son, it would have simply amounted to turning one’s back on all the experience of the elder world. Coming from the most cultivated American woman of her day, it meant that there was something worth more than culture — namely, original thoughts and free action. Whatever else she was, she was an American.
These are the reasons for thinking that neither the change of vanity nor of undue self-culture can be sustained against Margaret Fuller. And this is said after reading many hundred pages of her letters and journals. They are clearly written, in a hand quite peculiar, not a little formal, and as it were jointed rather than flowing, and not greatly varying throughout her whole life. She is always clear in style where she takes pains to be clear, is even business-like where she aims at that, and knows how to make herself emphatic without the aid of underscoring; indeed she abstains from this to an extent which would quite amaze Mr. Howells. To be sure, she was not at all one of those charming, helpless, inconsequent creatures whom he so exquisitely depicts; she demanded a great deal from life, but generally knew what she wanted, stated it effectively, and at last obtained it. It was indeed fortunate for her younger brothers and sisters that she was of this constitution. She lived at a time when life in America was hard for all literary people, from the absence of remuneration, the small supply of books, the habit of jealousy among authors, and
