scholar, a man of character, and of eminent powers of conversation, and already then deeply engaged in plans of an expansive practical bearing, of which the first fruit was the little community which nourished for a few years at Brook Farm.  Margaret presently became connected with him in literary labors, and, as long as she remained in this vicinity, kept up her habits of intimacy with the colonists of Brook Farm.  At West-Roxbury, too, she knew and prized the heroic heart, the learning and wit of Theodore Parker, whose literary aid was, subsequently, of the first importance to her.  She had an acquaintance, for many years,—­subject, no doubt, to alternations of sun and shade,—­with Mr. Alcott.  There was much antagonism in their habitual views, but each learned to respect the genius of the other.  She had more sympathy with Mr. Alcott’s English friend, Charles Lane, an ingenious mystic, and bold experimenter in practical reforms, whose dexterity and temper in debate she frankly admired, whilst his asceticism engaged her reverence.  Neither could some marked difference of temperament remove her from the beneficent influences of Miss Elizabeth Peabody, who, by her constitutional hospitality to excellence, whether mental or moral, has made her modest abode for so many years the inevitable resort of studious feet, and a private theatre for the exposition of every question of letters, of philosophy, of ethics, and of art.

The events in Margaret’s life, up to the year 1840, were few, and not of that dramatic interest which readers love.  Of the few events of her bright and blameless years, how many are private, and must remain so.  In reciting the story of an affectionate and passionate woman, the voice lowers itself to a whisper, and becomes inaudible.  A woman in our society finds her safety and happiness in exclusions and privacies.  She congratulates herself when she is not called to the market, to the courts, to the polls, to the stage, or to the orchestra.  Only the most extraordinary genius can make the career of an artist secure and agreeable to her.  Prescriptions almost invincible the female lecturer or professor of any science must encounter; and, except on points where the charities which are left to women as their legitimate province interpose against the ferocity of laws, with us a female politician is unknown.  Perhaps this fact, which so dangerously narrows the career of a woman, accuses the tardiness of our civility, and many signs show that a revolution is already on foot.

Margaret had no love of notoriety, or taste for eccentricity, to goad her, and no weak fear of either.  Willingly she was confined to the usual circles and methods of female talent.  She had no false shame.  Any task that called out her powers was good and desirable.  She wished to live by her strength.  She could converse, and teach, and write.  She took private classes of pupils at her own house.  She organized, with great success, a school for young ladies at Providence, and gave four hours a day to it, during two years.  She translated Eckermann’s Conversations with Goethe, and published in 1839.  In 1841, she translated the Letters of Gunderode and Bettine, and published them as far as the sale warranted the work.  In 1843, she made a tour to Lake Superior and to Michigan, and published an agreeable narrative of it, called “Summer on the Lakes.”