the two participants. Through the whole dialogue we see two persons, not merely one person speaking through two mouths. For instance, Laurie asks Aglauron: —
“But have I not seemed heartless to you at times?”
and Aglauron replies: —
“In the moment, perhaps, but quiet thought always showed me the difference between heartlessness and the want of a deep heart.”
Here we have not only an admirable glimpse into the recesses of human character, but we have a sharp demarkation between the two friends. Here and elsewhere, the conversation is a real interchange of thoughts and not a disguised monologue.
Margaret Fuller’s career as a critic encountered, at two points, the sincere opposition and even hostility of many readers, especially in her own home; in relation, namely, to her fellow-townsmen Longfellow and Lowell. It may readily be admitted at this time that she did less than justice to them both. This admitted, the fact remains that there was not a trace of personal rancor or grievance in either case; her whole career, indeed, being singularly free from this lowest of literary vices. In regard to Longfellow, she in the first place, as Horace Greeley tells us, wished to be excused from reviewing him; and then stated without disguise why she criticised him so frankly: because he seemed to her over-praised, and because she thought him exotic. This she
