sisters, in Boston. At that period she was considered a prodigy of
talent and accomplishment; but a sad feeling prevailed, that she had
been overtasked by her father, who wished to train her like a boy,
and that she was paying the penalty for undue application, in
nearsightedness, awkward manners, extravagant tendencies of thought,
and a pedantic style of talk, that made her a butt for the ridicule
of frivolous companions. Some seasons later, I call to mind seeing, at
the "Commencements" and "Exhibitions" of Harvard University, a girl,
plain in appearance, but of dashing air, who was invariably the centre
of a listening group, and kept their merry interest alive by sparkles
of wit and incessant small-talk. The bystanders called her familiarly,
"Margaret," "Margaret Fuller;" for, though young, she was already
noted for conversational gifts, and had the rare skill of attracting
to her society, not spirited collegians only, but men mature in
culture and of established reputation. It was impossible not to admire
her fluency and fun; yet, though curiosity was piqued as to this
entertaining personage, I never sought an introduction, but, on the
contrary, rather shunned encounter with one so armed from head to foot
in saucy sprightliness.

About 1830, however, we often met in the social circles of Cambridge,
and I began to observe her more nearly. At first, her vivacity,
decisive tone, downrightness, and contempt of conventional standards,
continued to repel. She appeared too _intense_ in expression, action,
emphasis, to be pleasing, and wanting in that _retenue_ which we
associate with delicate dignity. Occasionally, also, words flashed
from her of such scathing satire, that prudence counselled the keeping
at safe distance from a body so surcharged with electricity. Then,
again, there was an imperial--shall it be said imperious?--air,
exacting deference to her judgments and loyalty to her behests,