"_March 17, 1836_.--I think Herschel will be very valuable to me, from the slight glance I have taken of it, and I thank Mr.
F.; but do not let him expect anything of me because I have ventured on a book so profound as the Novum Organum. I have been examining myself with severity, intellectually as well as morally, and am shocked to find how vague and superficial is all my knowledge. I am no longer surprised that I should have appeared harsh and arrogant in my strictures to one who, having a better-disciplined mind, is more sensible of the difficulties in the way of really knowing and doing anything, and who, having more Wisdom, has more Reverence too. All that pa.s.sed at your house will prove very useful to me; and I trust that I am approximating somewhat to that genuine humility which is so indispensable to true regeneration. But do not speak of this to--, for I am not yet sure of the state of my mind."
"1836.--I have, for the time, laid aside _De Stael_ and _Bacon_, for _Martineau_ and _Southey_. I find, with delight, that the former has written on the very subjects I wished most to talk out with her, and probably I shall receive more from her in this way than by personal intercourse,--for I think more of her character when with her, and am stimulated through my affections. As to Southey, I am steeped to the lips in enjoyment. I am glad I did not know this poet earlier; for I am now just ready to receive his truly exalting influences in some degree. I think, in reading, I shall place him next to Wordsworth. I have finished Herschel, and really believe I am a little wiser. I have read, too, Heyne"s letters twice, Sartor Resartus once, some of Goethe"s late diaries, Coleridge"s Literary Remains, and drank a great deal from Wordsworth. By the way, do you know his "Happy Warrior"? I find my insight of this sublime poet perpetually deepening."
"Mr. ---- says the Wanderjahre is "_wise._" It must be presumed so; and yet one is not satisfied. I was perfectly so with my manner of interpreting the Lehrjahre; but this sequel keeps jerking my clue, and threatens to break it. I do not know our Goethe yet. I have changed my opinion about his religious views many times. Sometimes I am tempted to think that it is only his wonderful knowledge of human nature which has excited in me such reverence for his philosophy, and that no worthy fabric has been elevated on this broad foundation.
Yet often, when suspecting that I have found a huge gap, the next turning it appears that it was but an air-hole, and there is a brick all ready to stop it. On the whole, though my enthusiasm for the Goetherian philosophy is checked, my admiration for the genius of Goethe is in nowise lessened, and I stand in a sceptical att.i.tude, ready to try his philosophy, and, if needs must, play the Eclectic."
"Did I write that a kind-hearted neighbor, fearing I might be _dull_, sent to offer me the use of a _book-caseful_ of Souvenirs, Gems, and such-like glittering ware? I took a two or three year old "Token," and chanced on a story, called the "Gentle Boy," which I remembered to have heard was written by somebody in Salem. It is marked by so much grace and delicacy of feeling, that I am very desirous to know the author, whom I take to be a lady." * *
"With regard to what you say about the American Monthly, my answer is, I would gladly sell some part of my mind for lucre, to get the command of time; but I will not sell my soul: that is, I am perfectly willing to take the trouble of writing for money to pay the seamstress; but I am _not_ willing to have what I write mutilated, or what I ought to say dictated to suit the public taste. You speak of my writing about Tieck. It is my earnest wish to interpret the German authors of whom I am most fond to such Americans as are ready to receive.
Perhaps some might sneer at the notion of my becoming a teacher; but where I love so much, surely I might inspire others to love a little; and I think this kind of culture would be precisely the counterpoise required by the utilitarian tendencies of our day and place. My very imperfections may be of value. While enthusiasm is yet fresh, while I am still a novice, it may be more easy to communicate with those quite uninitiated, than when I shall have attained to a higher and calmer state of knowledge. I hope a periodical may arise, by and by, which may think me worthy to furnish a series of articles on German literature, giving room enough and perfect freedom to say what I please. In this case, I should wish to devote at least eight numbers to Tieck, and should use the Garden of Poesy, and my other translations.
"I have sometimes thought of translating his Little Red Riding Hood, for children. If it could be adorned with ill.u.s.trations, like those in the "Story without an End," it would make a beautiful little book; but I do not know that this could be done in Boston. There is much meaning that children could not take in; but, as they would never discover this till able to receive the whole, the book corresponds exactly with my notions of what a child"s book should be.
"I should like to begin the proposed series with a review of Heyne"s letters on German Literature, which afford excellent opportunity for some preparatory hints. My plans are so undecided for several coming months, that I cannot yet tell whether I shall have the time and tranquillity needed to write out the whole course, though much tempted by the promise of perfect liberty. I could engage, however, to furnish at least two articles on Novalis and Korner. I trust you will be interested in my favorite Korner. Great is my love for both of them. But I wish to write something which shall not only _be_ free from exaggeration, but which shall _seem_ so, to those unacquainted with their works.
"I have so much reading to go through with this month, that I have but few hours for correspondents. I have already discussed five volumes in German, two in French, three in English, and not without thought and examination.
"Tell--that I read "t.i.tan" by myself, in the afternoons and evenings of about three weeks. She need not be afraid to undertake it. Difficulties of detail may, perhaps, not be entirely conquered without a master or a good commentary, but she could enjoy all that is most valuable alone. I should be very unwilling to read it with a person of narrow or unrefined mind; for it is a n.o.ble work, and fit to raise a reader into that high serene of thought where pedants cannot enter."
FAREWELL TO GROTON.
"The place is beautiful, in its way, but its scenery is too tamely smiling and sleeping. My a.s.sociations with it are most painful. There darkened round us the effects of my father"s ill-judged exchange,--ill-judged, so far at least as regarded himself, mother, and me,--all violently rent from the habits of our former life, and cast upon toils for which we were unprepared: there my mother"s health was impaired, and mine destroyed; there my father died; there were undergone the miserable perplexities of a family that has lost its head; there I pa.s.sed through the conflicts needed to give up all which my heart had for years desired, and to tread a path for which I had no skill, and no-call, except that it must be trodden by some one, and I alone was ready. Wachuset and the Peterboro" hills are blended in my memory with hours of anguish as great as I am capable of suffering. I used to look at them towering to the sky, and feel that I, too, from birth, had longed to rise, and, though for the moment crushed, was not subdued.
"But if those beautiful hills, and wide, rich fields, saw this sad lore well learned, they also saw some precious lessons given in faith, fort.i.tude, self-command, and unselfish love.
There too, in solitude, the mind acquired more power of concentration, and discerned the beauty of strict method; there too, more than all, the heart was awakened to sympathize with the ignorant, to pity the vulgar, to hope for the seemingly worthless, and to commune with the Divine Spirit of Creation, which cannot err, which never sleeps, which will not permit evil to be permanent, nor its aim of beauty in the smallest particular eventually to fail."
WINTER IN BOSTON.
In the autumn of 1836 Margaret went to Boston, with the two-fold design of teaching Latin and French in Mr. Alcott"s school, which was then highly prosperous, and of forming cla.s.ses of young ladies in French, German, and Italian.
Her view of Mr. Alcott"s plan of education was thus hinted in a journal, one day, after she had been talking with him, and trying to place herself in his mental position:--
_Mr. A._ "O for the safe and natural way of Intuition! I cannot grope like a mole in the gloomy pa.s.sages of experience.
To the attentive spirit, the revelation contained in books is only so far valuable as it comments upon, and corresponds with, the universal revelation. Yet to me, a being social and sympathetic by natural impulse, though recluse and contemplative by training and philosophy, the character and life of Jesus have spoken more forcibly than any fact recorded in human history. This story of incarnate Love has given me the key to all mysteries, and showed me what path should be taken in returning to the Fountain of Spirit. Seeing that other redeemers have imperfectly fulfilled their tasks, I have sought a new way. They all, it seemed to me, had tried to influence the human being at too late a day, and had laid their plans too wide. They began with men; I will begin with babes. They began with the world; I will begin with the family. So I preach the Gospel of the Nineteenth Century."
_M_. "But, preacher, you make _three_ mistakes.
"You do not understand the nature of Genius or creative power.
"You do not understand the reaction of matter on spirit.
"You are too impatient of the complex; and, not enjoying variety in unity, you become lost in abstractions, and cannot ill.u.s.trate your principles."
On the other hand, Mr. Alcott"s impressions of Margaret were thus noted in his diaries:--
"She is clearly a person given to the boldest speculation, and of liberal and varied acquirements. Not wanting in imaginative power, she has the rarest good sense and discretion. She adopts the Spiritual Philosophy, and has the subtlest perception of its bearings. She takes large and generous views of all subjects, and her disposition is singularly catholic.
The blending of sentiment and of wisdom in her is most remarkable; and her taste is as fine as her prudence. I think her the most brilliant talker of the day. She has a quick and comprehensive wit, a firm command of her thoughts, and a speech to win the ear of the most cultivated."
In her own cla.s.ses Margaret was very successful, and thus in a letter sums up the results:--
"I am still quite unwell, and all my pursuits and propensities have a tendency to make my head worse. It is but a bad head,--as bad as if I were a great man! I am not ent.i.tled to so bad a head by anything I have done; but I flatter myself it is very interesting to suffer so much, and a fair excuse for not writing pretty letters, and saying to my friends the good things I think about them.
"I was so desirous of doing all I could, that I took a great deal more upon myself than I was able to bear. Yet now that the twenty-five weeks of incessant toil are over, I rejoice in it all, and would not have done an iota less. I have fulfilled all my engagements faithfully; have acquired more power of attention, self-command, and fort.i.tude; have acted in life as I thought I would in my lonely meditations; and have gained some knowledge of means. Above all,--blessed be the Father of our spirits!--my aims are the same as they were in the happiest flight of youthful fancy. I have learned too, at last, to rejoice in all past pain, and to see that my spirit has been judiciously tempered for its work. In future I may sorrow, but can I ever despair?
"The beginning of the winter was forlorn. I was always ill; and often thought I might not live, though the work was but just begun. The usual disappointments, too, were about me.
Those from whom aid was expected failed, and others who aided did not understand my aims. Enthusiasm for the things loved best fled when I seemed to be buying and selling them. I could not get the proper point of view, and could not keep a healthful state of mind. Mysteriously a gulf seemed to have opened between me and most intimate friends, and for the first time for many years I was entirely, absolutely, alone.
Finally, my own character and designs lost all romantic interest, and I felt vulgarized, profaned, forsaken,--though obliged to smile brightly and talk wisely all the while. But these clouds at length pa.s.sed away.
"And now let me try to tell you what has been done. To one cla.s.s I taught the German language, and thought it good success, when, at the end of three months, they could read twenty pages of German at a lesson, and very well. This cla.s.s, of course, was not interesting, except in the way of observation and a.n.a.lysis of language.
"With more advanced pupils I read, in twenty-four weeks, Schiller"s Don Carlos, Artists, and Song of the Bell, besides giving a sort of general lecture on Schiller; Goethe"s Hermann and Dorothea, Goetz von Berlichingen, Iphigenia, first part of Faust,--three weeks of thorough study this, as valuable to me as to them,--and Clavigo,--thus comprehending samples of all his efforts in poetry, and bringing forward some of his prominent opinions; Lessing"s Nathan, Minna, Emilia Galeotti; parts of Tieck"s Phantasus, and nearly the whole first volume of Richter"s t.i.tan.
"With the Italian cla.s.s, I read parts of Ta.s.so, Petrarch--whom they came to almost adore,--Ariosto, Alfieri, and the whole hundred cantos of the Divina Commedia, with the aid of the fine Athenaeum copy, Flaxman"s designs, and all the best commentaries. This last piece of work was and will be truly valuable to myself.
"I had, besides, three private pupils, Mrs. ----, who became very attractive to me, ----, and little ----, who had not the use of his eyes. I taught him Latin orally, and read the History of England and Shakspeare"s historical plays in connection. This lesson was given every day for ten weeks, and was very interesting, though very fatiguing. The labor in Mr.
Alcott"s school was also quite exhausting. I, however, loved the children, and had many valuable thoughts suggested, and Mr. A."s society was much to me.
"As you may imagine, the Life of Goethe is not yet written; but I have studied and thought about it much. It grows in my mind with everything that does grow there. My friends in Europe have sent me the needed books on the subject, and I am now beginning to work in good earnest. It is very possible that the task may be taken from me by somebody in England, or that in doing it I may find myself incompetent; but I go on in hope, secure, at all events, that it will be the means of the highest culture."
In addition to other labors, Margaret translated, one evening every week, German authors into English, for the gratification of Dr.
Channing; their chief reading being in De Wette and Herder.
"It was not very pleasant," she writes, "for Dr. C. takes in subjects more deliberately than is conceivable to us feminine people, with our habits of ducking, diving, or flying for truth. Doubtless, however, he makes better use of what he gets, and if his sympathies were livelier he would not view certain truths in so steady a light. But there is much more talking than reading; and I like talking with him. I do not feel that constraint which some persons complain of, but am perfectly free, though less called out than by other intellects of inferior power. I get too much food for thought from him, and am not bound to any tiresome formality of respect on account of his age and rank in the world of intellect. He seems desirous to meet even one young and obscure as myself on equal terms, and trusts to the elevation of his thoughts to keep him in his place."
She found higher satisfaction still in his preaching:--
"A discourse from Dr. C. on the spirituality of man"s nature.
This was delightful! I came away in the most happy, hopeful, and heroic mood. The tone of the discourse was so dignified, his manner was so benignant and solemnly earnest, in his voice there was such a concentration of all his force, physical and moral, to give utterance to divine truth, that I felt purged as by fire. If some speakers feed intellect more, Dr. C. feeds the whole spirit. O for a more calm, more pervading faith in the divinity of my own nature! I am so far from being thoroughly tempered and seasoned, and am sometimes so presumptuous, at others so depressed. Why cannot I lay more to heart the text, "G.o.d is never in a hurry: let man be patient and confident"?
PROVIDENCE.