'The circle I meet interests me. So even devoutly thoughtful
seems their spirit, that, from the very first, I took my
proper place, and never had the feeling I dreaded, of display,
of a paid Corinne. I feel as I would, truly a teacher and a
guide. All are intelligent; five or six have talent. But I am
never driven home for ammunition; never put to any expense;
never truly called out. What I have is always enough; though I
feel how superficially I am treating my subject.'
Here is an extract from the letter of a lady, who joined the class,
for the first time, at the eighth meeting, to her friend in New
Haven:--
"Christmas made a holiday for Miss Fuller's class, but it met
on Saturday, at noon. As I sat there, my heart overflowed with
joy at the sight of the bright circle, and I longed to have
you by my side, for I know not where to look for so much
character, culture, and so much love of truth and beauty, in
any other circle of women and girls. The names and faces would
not mean so much to you as to me, who have seen more of the
lives, of which they are the sign. Margaret, beautifully
dressed, (don't despise that, for it made a fine picture,)
presided with more dignity and grace than I had thought
possible. The subject was Beauty. Each had written her
definition, and Margaret began with reading her own. This
called forth questions, comments, and illustrations, on all
sides. The style and manner, of course, in this age, are
different, but the question, the high point from which it
was considered, and the earnestness and simplicity of the
discussion, as well as the gifts and graces of the speakers,
gave it the charm of a Platonic dialogue. There was no
pretension or pedantry in a word that was said. The tone of
remark and question was simple as that of children in a school
class; and, I believe, every one was gratified."
The conversations thus opened proceeded with spirit and success.
Under the mythological forms, room was found for opening all the
great questions, on which Margaret and her friends wished to converse.
Prometheus was made the type of Pure Reason; Jupiter, of Will; Juno,
the passive side of the same, or Obstinacy; Minerva, Intellectual
Power, Practical Reason; Mercury, Executive Power, Understanding;
Apollo was Genius, the Sun; Bacchus was Geniality, the Earth's answer.
"Apollo and Bacchus were contrasted," says the reporter. "Margaret
unfolded her idea of Bacchus. His whole life was triumph. Born from
fire; a divine frenzy; the answer of the earth to the sun,--of the
warmth of joy to the light of genius. He is beautiful, also; not
severe in youthful beauty, like Apollo; but exuberant,--liable to
excess. She spoke of the fables of his destroying Pentheus, &c., and
suggested the interpretations. This Bacchus was found in Scripture.
The Indian Bacchus is glowing; he is the genial apprehensive power;
the glow of existence; mere joy."
Venus was Grecian womanhood, instinctive; Diana, chastity; Mars,
Grecian manhood, instinctive. Venus made the name for a conversation
on Beauty, which was extended through four meetings, as it brought in
irresistibly the related topics of poetry, genius, and taste. Neptune
was Circumstance; Pluto, the Abyss, the Undeveloped; Pan, the glow
and sportiveness and music of Nature; Ceres, the productive power of
Nature; Proserpine, the Phenomenon.
Under the head of Venus, in the fifth conversation, the story of Cupid
and Psyche was told with fitting beauty, by Margaret; and many fine
conjectural interpretations suggested from all parts of the room.
The ninth conversation turned on the distinctive qualities of poetry,
discriminating it from the other fine arts. Rhythm and Imagery, it
was agreed, were distinctive. An episode to dancing, which the
conversation took, led Miss Fuller to give the thought that lies
at the bottom of different dances. Of her lively description the
following record is preserved:--
'Gavottes, shawl dances, and all of that kind, are intended
merely to exhibit the figure in as many attitudes as possible.
They have no character, and say nothing, except, Look! how
graceful I am!
'The minuet is conjugal; but the wedlock is chivalric. Even
so would Amadis wind slow, stately, calm, through the mazes of
life, with Oriana, when he had made obeisances enough to win
her for a partner.
'English, German, Swiss, French, and Spanish dances all
express the same things, though in very different ways. Love
and its life are still the theme.
'In the English country dance, the pair who have chosen one
another, submit decorously to the restraints of courtship
and frequent separations, cross hands, four go round, down
outside, in the most earnest, lively, complacent fashion. If
they join hands to go down the middle, and exhibit their
union to all spectators, they part almost as soon as meet,
and disdain not to give hands right and left to the most
indifferent persons, like marriage in its daily routine.
'In the Swiss, the man pursues, stamping with energy, marking
the time by exulting flings, or snapping of the fingers, in
delighted confidence of succeeding at last; but the maiden
coyly, demurely, foots it round, yet never gets out of the
way, intending to be won.
'The German asks his _madchen_ if she will, with him, for an
hour forget the cares and common-places of life in a tumult
of rapturous sympathy, and she smiles with Saxon modesty her
_Ja_. He sustains her in his arms; the music begins. At first,
in willing mazes they calmly imitate the planetary orbs, but
the melodies flow quicker, their accordant hearts beat
higher, and they whirl at last into giddy raptures, and
dizzy evolutions, which steal from life its free-will and
self-collection, till nothing is left but mere sensation.
'The French couple are somewhat engaged with one another, but
almost equally so with the world around them. They think it
well to vary existence with plenty of coquetry and display.
First, the graceful reverence to one another, then to
their neighbors. Exhibit your grace in the _chassé_,--made
apparently solely for the purpose of _déchasséing_;--then
civil intimacy between the ladies, in _la chaine_, then a
decorous promenade of partners, then right and left with
all the world, and balance, &c. The quadrille also offers
opportunity for talk. Looks and sympathetic motions are not
enough for our Parisian friends, unless eked out by words.
'The impassioned bolero and fandango are the dances for me.
They are not merely loving, but living; they express the sweet
Southern ecstasy at the mere gift of existence. These persons
are together, they live, they are beautiful; how can they
say this in sufficiently plain terms?--I love, I live, I
am beautiful!--I put on my festal dress to do honor to my
happiness; I shake my castanets, that my hands, too, may be
busy; I _felice,--felicissima_!'
This first series of conversations extended to thirteen, the class
meeting once a week at noon, and remaining together for two hours. The
class were happy, and the interest increased. A new series of thirteen
more weeks followed, and the general subject of the new course was
"the Fine Arts." A few fragmentary notes only of these hours have been
shown me, but all those who bore any part in them testify to their
entire success. A very competent witness has given me some interesting
particulars:--
"Margaret used to come to the conversations very well dressed, and,
altogether, looked sumptuously. She began them with an exordium, in
which she gave her leading views; and those exordiums were excellent,
from the elevation of the tone, the ease and flow of discourse, and
from the tact with which they were kept aloof from any excess, and
from the gracefulness with which they were brought down, at last, to a
possible level for others to follow. She made a pause, and invited the
others to come in. Of course, it was not easy for every one to venture
her remark, after an eloquent discourse, and in the presence of twenty
superior women, who were all inspired. But whatever was said, Margaret
knew how to seize the good meaning of it with hospitality, and to make
the speaker feel glad, and not sorry, that she had spoken. She showed
herself thereby fit to preside at such meetings, and imparted to the
susceptible a wonderful reliance on her genius."
In her writing she was prone to spin her sentences without a sure
guidance, and beyond the sympathy of her reader. But in discourse, she
was quick, conscious of power, in perfect tune with her company, and
would pause and turn the stream with grace and adroitness, and with
so much spirit, that her face beamed, and the young people came away
delighted, among other things, with "her beautiful looks." When
she was intellectually excited, or in high animal spirits, as often
happened, all deformity of features was dissolved in the power of the
expression. So I interpret this repeated story of sumptuousness of
dress, that this appearance, like her reported beauty, was simply an
effect of a general impression of magnificence made by her genius, and
mistakenly attributed to some external elegance; for I have been told
by her most intimate friend, who knew every particular of her conduct
at that time, that there was nothing of special expense or splendor in
her toilette.
The effect of the winter's work was happiest. Margaret was made
intimately known to many excellent persons.[A] In this company of
matrons and maids, many tender spirits had been set in ferment. A new
day had dawned for them; new thoughts had opened; the secret of life
was shown, or, at least, that life had a secret. They could not forget
what they had heard, and what they had been surprised into saying.
A true refinement had begun to work in many who had been slaves
to trifles. They went home thoughtful and happy, since the steady
elevation of Margaret's aim had infused a certain unexpected greatness
of tone into the conversation. It was, I believe, only an expression
of the feeling of the class, the remark made, perhaps at the next
year's course, by a lady of eminent powers, previously by no means
partial to Margaret, and who expressed her frank admiration on leaving
the house:--"I never heard, read of, or imagined a conversation at all
equal to this we have now heard."
The strongest wishes were expressed, on all sides, that the
conversations should be renewed at the beginning of the following
winter. Margaret willingly consented; but, as I have already
intimated, in the summer and autumn of 1840, she had retreated to some
interior shrine, and believed that she came into life and society with
some advantage from this devotion.
Of this feeling the new discussion bore evident traces. Most of the
last year's class returned, and new members gave in their names. The
first meeting was holden on the twenty-second of November, 1840. By
all accounts it was the best of all her days. I have again the notes,
taken at the time, of the excellent lady at whose house it was
held, to furnish the following sketch of the first and the following
meetings. I preface these notes by an extract from a letter of
Margaret.