'Oftentimes I have found in those of my own sex more 'gentleness, grace, and purity, than in myself; but seldom 'the heroism which I feel within my own breast. I 'blame not those who think the heart cannot bleed be'cause it is so strong; but little they dream of what lies 'concealed beneath the determined courage. Yet mine 'has been the Spartan sternness, smiling while it hides 'the wound. I long rather for the Christian spirit, which 'even on the cross prays, "Father, forgive them," and 'rises above fortitude to heavenly satisfaction.'

'Remember that only through aspirations, which some'times make me what is called unreasonable, have I been 'enabled to vanquish unpropitious circumstances, and 'save my soul alive.'

'All the good I have ever done has been by calling on 'every nature for its highest. I will admit that some'times I have been wanting in gentleness, but never in 'tenderness, nor in noble faith.'

'The heart which hopes and dares is also accessible 'to terror, and this falls upon it like a thunderbolt. It 'can never defend itself at the moment, it is so surprised. "There is no defence but to strive for an equable temper 'of courageous submission, of obedient energy, that shall 'make assault less easy to the foe.

'This is the dart within the heart, as well as I can tell 'it: At moments, the music of the universe, which 'daily I am upheld by hearing, seems to stop. I fall 'like a bird when the sun is eclipsed, not looking for 'such darkness. The sense of my individual law 'that lamp of life-flickers. I am repelled in what is

'most natural to me. I feel as, when a suffering child, 'I would go and lie with my face to the ground, to sob 'away my little life.'

'In early years, when, though so frank as to the 'thoughts of the mind, I put no heart confidence in 'any human being, my refuge was in my journal. I 'have burned those records of my youth, with its bitter 'tears, and struggles, and aspirations. Those aspira'tions were high, and have gained only broader foundaเ tions and wider reach. But the leaves had done their 'work. For years to write there, instead of speaking, 'had enabled me to soothe myself; and the Spirit was 'often my friend, when I sought no other. Once again 'I am willing to take up the cross of loneliness. Re'solves are idle, but the anguish of my soul has been 'deep. It will not be easy to profane life by rhetoric.'

'I woke thinking of the monks of La Trappe; — how 'could they bear their silence? When the game of life 'was lost for me, in youthful anguish I knew well the 'desire for that vow; but if I had taken it, my heart 'would have burned out my physical existence long ago.'

'Save me from plunging into the depths to learn the 'worst, or from being led astray by the winged joys of 'childish feeling. I pray for truth in proportion as there 'is strength to receive.'

'My law is incapable of a charter. I pass all bounds, 'and cannot do otherwise. Those whom it seems to me 'I am to meet again in the Ages, I meet, soul to soul, 'now. I have no knowledge of any circumstances ex'cept the degree of affinity.'

'I feel that my impatient nature needs the dark days. 'I would learn the art of limitation, without compro'mise, and act out my faith with a delicate fidelity. 'When loneliness becomes too oppressive, I feel Him 'drawing me nearer, to be soothed by the smile of an 'All-Intelligent Love. He will not permit the freedom 'essential to growth to be checked. If I can give myself 'up to Him, I shall not be too proud, too impetuous, 'neither too timid, and fearful of a wound or cloud.'

III.

TRANSCENDENTALISM.

THE summer of 1839 saw the full dawn of the Transcendental movement in New England. The rise of this enthusiasm was as mysterious as that of any form of revival; and only they who were of the faith could comprehend how bright was this morning-time of a new hope. Transcendentalism was an assertion of the | inalienable integrity of man, of the immanence of Divinity in instinct. In part, it was a reaction against Puritan Orthodoxy; in part, an effect of renewed study of the ancients, of Oriental Pantheists, of Plato and the Alexandrians, of Plutarch's Morals, Seneca and Epictetus; in part, the natural product of the culture of the place and time. On the somewhat stunted stock of Unitarianism, whose characteristic dogma was trust in individual reason as correlative to Supreme Wisdom,had been grafted German Idealism, as taught by masters of most various schools, by Kant and Jacobi, Fichte

and Novalis, Schelling and Hegel, Schleiermacher and De Wette, by Madame de Stael, Cousin, Coleridge, and Carlyle; and the result was a vague yet exalting conception of the godlike nature of the human spirit. Transcendentalism, as viewed by its disciples, was a pilgrimage from the idolatrous world of creeds and rituals to the temple of the Living God in the soul. It was a putting to silence of tradition and formulas, that the Sacred Oracle might be heard through intuitions of the single-eyed and pure-hearted. Amidst materialists, zealots, and sceptics, the Transcendentalist believed in perpetual inspiration, the miraculous power of will, and a birthright to universal good. He sought to hold communion face to face with the unnameable Spirit of his spirit, and gave himself up to the embrace of nature's beautiful joy, as a babe seeks the breast of a mother. To him the curse seemed past; and love was without fear. "All mine is thine" sounded forth to him in ceaseless benediction, from flowers and stars, through the poetry, art, heroism of all ages, in the aspirations of his own genius, and the budding promise of the time. His work was to be faithful, as all saints, sages, and lovers of man had been, to Truth, as the very Word of God. His maxims were, "Trust, dare and be; infinite good is ready for your asking; seek and find. All that your fellows can claim or need is that you should become, in fact, your highest self; fulfil, then, your ideal." Hence, among the strong, withdrawal to private study and contemplation, that they might be "alone with the Alone;" solemn yet glad devotedness to the Divine leadings in the inmost will; calm concentration of thought to wait for and receive wisdom; dignified independence, stern yet sweet, of fashion and public opinion; honest originality

VOL. II.

2

of speech and conduct, exempt alike from apology or dictation, from servility or scorn. Hence, too, among the weak, whimsies, affectation, rude disregard of proprieties, slothful neglect of common duties, surrender to the claims of natural appetite, self-indulgence, self-absorption, and self-idolatry.

66

By their very posture of mind, as seekers of the new, the Transcendentalists were critics and come-outers from the old. Neither the church, the state, the college, society, nor even reform associations, had a hold upon. their hearts. The past might be well enough for those who, without make-belief, could yet put faith in common dogmas and usages; but for them the matin-bells of a new day were chiming, and the herald-trump of freedom was heard upon the mountains. Hence, leaving ecclesiastical organizations, political parties, and familiar circles, which to them were brown with drought, they sought in covert nooks of friendship for running waters, and fruit from the tree of life. The journal, the letter, became of greater worth than the printed page; for they felt that systematic results were not yet to be looked for, and that in sallies of conjecture, glimpses and flights of ecstasy, the "Newness" lifted her veil to her votaries. Thus, by mere attraction of affinity, grew together the brotherhood of the "Like-minded," as they were pleasantly nicknamed by outsiders, and by themselves, on the ground that no two were of the same opinion. The only password of membership to this association, which had no compact, records, or officers, was a hopeful and liberal spirit; and its chance conventions were determined merely by the desire of the caller for a "talk," or by the arrival of some guest from a distance with a budget of presumptive novelties. Its "symposium" was a pic-nic,