and musing upon them, I got through the
evening after all, and went to bed. I made
but one sleep of it—for which I have no
doubt I am also indebted to the plate—and
left the lonely Dodo in the morning, quite at
peace with it, before the bandy-legged baby
was up.

MARGARET FULLER

IN the year 1810, in the town of Cambridgeport,
Massachusetts, a child was born to a
pair named Fuller, whom they christened
Margaret. The father was a lawyer—a shrewd,
severe man; " a character," as the daughter
says, " quite of the common sort." He was,
however, a classical scholar, with a taste for
the poets of Queen Anne's time; though, even
in literature, a man of business. Margaret,
he determined, should be a youthful prodigy.
At six years old she could read Latin; and
she afterwards became thoroughly proficient
in that tongue, as well as in the Greek.
Hexameters had neither mystery nor terrors for
her; and the oldest " Dux " in the
Westminster School would have, probably, found
her a match for him with such missiles. Her
father, when dealing with her, was all method
and precision; but she describes her own
character as having been " fervent, and
disposed to infatuation and self-forgetfulness."
All this, however, failed to give her a distaste
for study. At eight years old, she found a
copy of Shakspeare, and greedily devoured it;
twice incurring her father's anger for being
found reading it on a Sunday.

At the age of thirteen, Margaret Fuller
was so advanced in mental development, that
she took her place in society as a full-grown
woman. At fifteen, she gave the following
account of her manner of passing the day:—
" I rise a little before five, walk an hour, and
then practise on the piano till seven; when
we breakfast. Next, I read French—
Sismondi's ' Literature of the South of Europe '
—till eight; then two or three lectures in
' Brown's Philosophy.' From half-past nine
till twelve I study Greek; when I recite,
and practise again till dinner, at two.
Sometimes, if the conversation is very agreeable,
I lounge for half-an-hour over the dessert,
though rarely so lavish of time. Then, when
I can, I read two hours in Italian. At six, I
walk or take a drive. Before going to bed,
I play or sing for half-an-hour or so; and,
about eleven, retire, to write a little while in
my journal, exercises on what I have read, or
a series of characteristics, which I am filling
up, according to advice." She was already
famous for her conversation. She satirised
her own sex, and they kept aloof from her.
At nineteen, there was scarcely a book of
note, in the Spanish, French, or Italian
languages, which she had not read and thoroughly
mastered. She soon after studied German,
and devoured all its writers in prose, poetry,
and metaphysics.

Kant and Novalis were among her favorites;
if we may judge from her journal, which
contains plentiful records of her "inner
life," "spiritual struggles," "self-wrestlings,"
'' appointed tasks," and " other things caviare
to the general." The " Boston School,"
or " Frogpondians " (as they are called in
the American dialect), of which Mr. Emerson
is the chief, took her to itself; and
she acquired the art of making a
profound thought look profounder, by only half
expressing it.

The person of Margaret Fuller is described
as being rather under the middle height,
extremely plain, with a trick of opening and
shutting her eyelids, and a nasal tone of voice,
which repelled. Mr. Emerson was decidedly
repelled. He said to himself, " We shall
never get far." But she quizzed him, and
flattered him, and disputed with him, until
he admitted that it was impossible to hold
out against such an urgent assault. He was
speedily drawn into the circle of her friends;
whom, with meek resignation, he says, " she
wore like a necklace." Meanwhile, her
industry in study was immense.

In 1843, she was editor of the " Dial," an
American Quarterly Review. In 1844 she
removed to New York, and endeavoured to
arouse the ladies of that city with lectures to
them, exclusively, on " The Family," " The
School," " Society," and " Literature." She
afterwards published " Women in the Nineteenth
Century," in which she demanded for her sex
the fullest recognition of social and political
equality. One of her male friends innocently
remarks, however, that, while she demanded
absolute equality for women, she exacted a
deference from men to women, entirely
inconsistent with that requirement. Poor,
unsuspecting, male friend! As time wore on, he
acknowledges himself drawn irresistibly into
the general current; or, to use the other
gentleman's metaphor, strung upon her
necklace.

Heralded by her reputation as a scholar
and talker, and continually before the public,
as a writer, in New York she became the
centre of attraction. All persons were curious
to see her; but her admirers state that most
seemed repelled, by what looked like conceit,
pedantry, and a harsh spirit of criticism;
while, on her part, she seemed to regard
those around her as frivolous, superficial, and
conventional.

In 1846, Margaret Fuller came to England,
and quizzed English society and English
writers. In Paris, she visited the famous
Madame Dudevant, otherwise George Sand,
and found her smoking the little cigarette, of
which all the world has heard. She states
that she never liked a woman better than
the female George, and gives some reasons
for her affection, which would seem to few
people reasons for liking anybody. At
Boulogne, she said, " All women should love
that city; for there the intelligence of women