In 1839, Margaret Fuller, delicate in health and much overtaxed, consented to gratify many who loved her by opening in Boston a series of “Conversations for Women.” In a Circular quoted by Emerson, she says to Mrs. Sophia Ripley:—

This was certainly the original intent of the famous “Fuller Conversations,” which, beginning then, were continued at intervals, until Margaret left Boston for New York in 1844.

It seems a little singular, therefore, to find her writing to Ralph Waldo Emerson of this series, Nov. 25, 1839, as follows:—

Under the forms suggested by Mythology, Margaret proceeded to open all the great questions of life. In a literary sense, she distinctly stated that she knew little about the doings on Olympus, nor had she received any help from German critical works,—of which at the present day she would have found many.

These Conversations owed their attraction first to the absolute novelty of her theme to many of those she addressed, and still more to the variety and freshness of her own treatment. The opening, at the Boston AthenÆum, of the splendid collection of casts presented by Thomas Handasyd Perkins, and many private collections of pictures, engravings, gems, and miniature casts, had interested her intensely, and both mind and fancy were absorbed in the contemplation of their themes. In these Conversations she depicted what she had gained from Art, rather than the little that she had acquired through study. If I may judge from a later experience, her Latin studies rather injured than developed her brilliant fancies. She never could remember what she had said, never could repeat a brilliant saying, and, if obliged to read any illustration, read it, as all her friends admitted, very badly. From a statement made to Emerson, I quote the following:—

The communication of which the above is a sample I have always read with amazement, for I never knew a person of whom it would seem less true. When conversing with one sympathetic person, it was undoubtedly true; when resting upon the affection and loyalty of her young women,—a most gifted and extraordinary circle,—it was doubtless equally so; but when the class of March, 1841, was formed, a very different aspect of herself appeared.

The fame of her “talks” had spread. She had great need of money, and some of the gentlemen who were accustomed to talk with her, and some of the ladies of her day-class, suggested an evening class, to be composed of both ladies and gentlemen, and to meet at the house of the Rev. George Ripley in Bedford Place. Ten Conversations were to be held, and the tickets of admission cost twenty dollars each, a very high price for that time. It was in the book-room of Elisabeth Peabody that I first heard them discussed. I was very young to join such a circle; and when she invited me, Elisabeth had more regard, I think, to Margaret’s purse, than to my fitness for the company. But it was a great opportunity. The members were full of excitement over the projected opening of Brook Farm. All were in good spirits, and bright sayings ran back and forth. I had been carefully trained in the Art of Reporting, and at that time made careful abstracts on the following day of any lecture that had interested me. In these I trusted to my memory. It was not possible to do this with the Conversations; so I invented a sort of short-hand, and carried note-book and pencil with me. I sat a little out of sight that I might not embarrass Margaret, but Elisabeth Peabody and Mrs. Farrar found me out. Elisabeth wrote what she called an abstract, every night; but an examination of her abstracts quoted by Mr. Emerson shows that what she wrote was not what any one said, but the impression made upon her own mind by it. These abstracts she always read to me, the next morning. I wrote out my short-hand notes before breakfast and carried them down to her about noon. I greatly enjoyed listening to her papers, and she was so absorbed in them that she often forgot to ask for mine, which was a great relief to me.

So far as I know, these Reports of mine are the only attempt ever made deliberately to represent these or any of Margaret’s “Conversations” word for word. Of course, much was omitted as not worth recording, nor did I ever write down anything that I could not understand. Many of the members I knew intimately, and fell naturally into writing of them by initials and first names, as they always spoke to and of each other. At times I fell back into the Mr., Mrs., or Miss, which was my own habit. It is well to call those we love by any name they will permit, but the familiar habit of the Transcendental circle was full of social peril to the younger members, who, conceiving it a proof of genius, followed it, when its origin was forgotten, and were much misunderstood in consequence in later years.

I offer the Reports exactly as they were written. I should like to alter them in several small ways if I could do it honestly. We met to discuss Grecian Mythology as interpreted to Margaret’s mind by Art; but Latin and Greek names were used as if they were synonymous, and Latin poems were quoted, as well as Greek traditions. This confused my mind then, and does still. Athene and Minerva, Zeus and Jupiter, are by no means the same persons to me, Art or no Art.

It may be thought by those who cannot remember the persons who enacted this little drama, or by those who do remember and know well how very distinguished a company this was, that I should have eliminated my own reflections, and dropped out of the story.

This would I think have been greatly unjust to Margaret, who never enjoyed this mixed class, and considered it a failure so far as her own power was concerned. She and Mr. Emerson met like Pyramus and Thisbe, a blank wall between. With Mr. Alcott she had no patience, and no one of the class seemed to understand how sincere and deep was her interest in the theme. In no way was Margaret’s supremacy so evident as in the impulse she gave to the minds of younger women.

It was the wish of Margaret’s mother and brothers, as it is also the wish of her surviving relatives, that I should print these pages. After Arthur’s death, Richard Fuller undertook to carry out a plan to which both had agreed, and which Margaret’s mother had greatly at heart. They desired that I should write a simple, straightforward account of Margaret, including her residence in Italy, her marriage, the birth of her child, and her death. This they intended to print at their own expense, and they thought it might be so written as to put an end to many absurd and painful rumors which had followed the publication of the first Memoir. That I might prepare for this, all Margaret’s manuscripts were in my custody for more than a year. The completion of the work was prevented by Richard Fuller’s unexpected death. No surviving member of the family was able to carry out his intention.

I still have in my possession the estimate of his sister’s character which Richard made for my use.

I should like to add, that the scholar will see that the stories from Apuleius and Novalis do not exactly correspond to the originals. They were reported exactly as they were told.

CAROLINE HEALEY DALL.

Sept. 1, 1895,
Washington, D. C.