Life without and life within

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Preface

Every person, who can be said to really live at all, leads two lives during this period of mortal existence. The one life is outward; it is passed in reading the thoughts of others ; in contemplating the struggles, the defeats, the victories, the virtues, the sins, in fine, all things which make the history of those who surround us ; and in gazing upon the structures which Art has reared, or paintings which she hath inscribed on the canvas ; or looking upon the grand temple of the material universe, and beholding scenes painted by a hand more skilled, more wondrous, in its creative power, than ever can be human hand. The life passed in examining what other minds have produced, or living other men's lives by looking at their deeds, or in any way discerning what addresses the bodily eye or the physical ear, — this is often wise and well ; essential, indeed, to any inner life; but it is outward, not selfcentred, not the product of our own individual natures.

But the thought of others suggests or develops thought of our own — the history of other men, as it is writing itself imperishably every day upon their souls, or already has written itself in letters of living light or lines of gloomy blackness — gives rise to internal sympathy or abhorrence on the part of us who look on and read what is thus writing and written. Our own spirits are stirred within us : our passions, which have been sleeping lions, our affections and aspirations, before angels with folded wings, — these are awakened by what others are doing, and then we struggle with the bad or yield to it ; we obey or disobey the good, and our internal moral life begins ; the outward universe or the Great Spirit in our hearts speaks to our souls, leading first to inward dissatisfaction, then to aspiration for and attainment of holiness, and now the inner spiritual life, which shall transfigure all outward life, and throw its own light and give its own hue to all the outward universe, has begun. These two lives are parallel streams ; often they mingle their waters, and each imparts its own hue and characteristic to the other. Sometimes the outer life is the main stream ; men live only in other men's thoughts and deeds — look only upon the material universe, and retire but seldom within: the inner life is but a silver thread — a little rill, scarce discoverable save by the eye of God. Again, with many the outer life is but little; the passing scene, the din of the battle which humanity is ever waging, the one scarce is gazed upon or the other heard

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by those who retire much from the outward world, and live almost exclusively upon their own thoughts, and in an ideal realm of fancy, or a real one of internal conflict, which is hidden from the outer vision. Better is it when the stream of outward and inner life are both full and broad — when the glories of the material universe attract the gaze, the realm of literature and learning invite the willing feet to wander in paths where poetry has planted many flowers, philosophy many a sturdy oak of truth, which centuries cannot overthrow — and when, on the other hand, men do not forget to retire often within, and find their own minds kingdoms, where many a noble thought spontaneously grows ; their own souls heavens, where, the busy world withdrawn, they commune much with their own aspirations, fight many a noble battle with whatever hinders their spiritual peace, and where they commune yet more with that Comforter, the Divine Spirit, and Christ, that Friend and Helper of all who are seeking to make the life of thought and desire, as well as outward word and deed, high and holy.

It is not a brother's part to pass critical judgment upon a sister's literary attainments, or mental and spiritual gifts, nor is it needful in reference to Madame Ossoli. The world never has questioned her great learning or rich and varied culture ; these have been ^uniformly acknowledged. As a keen and sagacious critic of literature, as an admirer of whatever was noble, an 1*

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abhorrer of all low and mean, this she was early, and is, so far as we know, without any question regarded. That her judgments have always been acquiesced in is far from true ; but the public has ever believed them alike sincere and fearless. The life without, — that of culture and intelligent, careful observation, — all know that stream to have been full to overflowing.

More and more, too, every year, the public are beginning to recognize and appreciate the richness and the beauty of her inner life. The very keenness of her critical acumen, — the very boldness of her rebuke of all she deemed petty and base — the very truthfulness of her conformity to her own standard — her very abhorrence of all cant and mere conformity, long prevented, and even yet somewhat hinder, many from adequately recognizing the loving spirit, the sympathetic nature, the Christian faith, and spiritual devoutness which made her domestic and social life, her action amid her own kindred and nation, and in Rome, for those not allied to her by birth and lineage, at once kindly, noble, and full of holy self-sacrifice. Yet continually the world is learning these things : the history of her life, as her memoirs reveal it, the testimony of so many witnesses here and in other lands, a more careful study and a wider reading of her works, are leading, perhaps rapidly cnqngh, to a true appreciation of the spiritual beauty of her soul, and men see that the waters of

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her inner life form a stream at once clear and pure, deep and broad.

In presenting to the public the last volume of Margaret Fuller's works, the Editor is encouraged to hope for them a candid, cordial reception. It has been a work of love on his part, for which he has ever felt inadequate, and from it for a time shrunk. But each volume has had a wider and more cordial welcome than its predecessor, and works received by the great public almost with coldness when first published, have, when republished, had a large and cheering circulation, and, what is far better, a kindly appreciation not only by the few, but even by the many. This is evidence enough that the progress of time has brought the public and my sister into closer sympathy and agreement, and a better understanding on its part of her true views and character.

The present volume is less than any of its predecessors a republication. Only one of its articles has ever appeared before in book form. As a book, it is, then, essentially new, though some of its reviews and essays have appeared in the columns of the Tribune and Dial. A large portion of it has never appeared at all in print, especially its poetical portions. The work of collecting these essays, reviews, and poems has been a difficult one, much more than attended the preparation of the previous volumes. Unable, of course, to consult their author as to any of them, the revision I have given is doubtless very imperfect, and requires large allowance. It is even possible that among the poems one or more written by friends and sent her, or copied from some other author, may have crept in unawares ; but this all possible pains have been taken to prevent. Such as it is, the volume is now before the public ; it truly reveals her inner and outer life, and is doubtless the last of the volumes containing the writings of Margaret Fuller Ossoli.

PART I.— REVIEWS. Page

Menzel's "View of Gcethe 13

Letters from a Landscape Painter 69

Brown's Novels 83

Edgar A. Poe 87

Italy. — Cart's Dante 102

American Facts 108

Napoleon and his Marshals 110

Physical Education 116

Frederick. Douglass 121

Philip Van Arteyelde 127

United States Exploring Expedition 141

Story Books for the Hot Weather 143

Shelley's Poems 149

Festus 153

The New Science, or the Philosophy of Mesmerism or

Animal Magnetism 169

10 CONTENTS.

Deutsche Schxellpost 174

PART IL-MISCELLANEOUS.

New Year's Day 219

Fourth of July 232

First of August 236

Sunday Meditations on Various Texts. — First 277

" " " Second 280

Appeal for an Asylum for Discharged Female Convicts. . 283

The Rich Man. — An Ideal Sketch 287

The Poor Man. — An Ideal Sketch 297

The Celestial Empire 304

What fits a Man to be a Voter. — A Fable 314

Discoveries 319

Politeness too great a Luxury to be given to the Poor. . 322

Cassius M. Clay 326

The Magnolia of Lake Pontchartrain 330

Late Aspirations 314

Fragmentary Thoughts, from Margaret Fuller's Journal. 348

Farewell to New York 354

CONTENTS. 11

PART III. -POEMS. Freedom and Truth 357

Description" of a Portion of the Journey to Trenton

Falls 357

Journey to Trenton Falls 361

Sub Rosa Crux 365

The Dahlia, the Rose, and the Heliotrope 367

To my Friends, (translation.) 368

Stanzas written at the Age of Seventeen 370

Flaxman 371

Thoughts on Sunday Morning, when prevented by a Snowstorm FROM GOING TO CHURCH 371

To a Golden Heart worn round the Neck 374

Lines accompanying a Bouquet of wild Columbine. . . . 375

Dissatisfaction, (translation.) 377

My Seal-ring 378

The Consolers, (translation.) 379

Absence of Love • 380

Meditations ._ 381

Richter 383

The Thankful and the Thankless 384

Prophecy and Fulfilment 385

Verses given to "W. C, with a Blank Book 3S5

Eagles and Doves, (translation.) 387

To a Friend, with Heartsease 3S8

Aspiration 3S9

The One in All 390

A Greeting 393

Lines to Edith, on her Birthday 394

12 CONTENTS.

Lines written* in her Brother R. F. F's Journal 395

On a Picture representing the Descent from the Cross. . 396

The Captured Wild Horse 397

Epilogue to the Tragedy of Essex, (translation.) . . . 400

Hymn written for a Sunday School 404

Desertion, (translation.) 405

Song written for a May-day Festival 406

Caradori singing 409

Lines in Answer to Stanzas containing several Passages

of distinguished beauty 409

Influence of the Outward 410

SlSTRUM 413

Imperfect Thoughts 414

Sadness 414

Lines written in an Album 416

To S. C 417

Lines written in Boston on a beautiful Autumnal Day. . 420

To E. C, with Herbert's Poems 422