rality she
evinced was fully paralleled by the liberality she experienced
at the hands of others. Had she needed thousands, and made
her wants known, she had friends who would have cheerfully
supplied her. I think few persons, in their pecuniary
dealings, have experienced and evinced more of the better
qualities of human nature than Margaret Fuller. She seemed to
inspire those who approached her with that generosity which
was a part of her nature.

"Of her writings I do not purpose to speak critically. I think
most of her contributions to the Tribune, while she remained
with us, were characterized by a directness, terseness,
and practicality, which are wanting in some of her earlier
productions. Good judges have confirmed my own opinion, that,
while her essays in the Dial are more elaborate and ambitious,
her reviews in the Tribune are far better adapted to win the
favor and sway the judgment of the great majority of readers.
But, one characteristic of her writings I feel bound to
commend,--their absolute truthfulness. She never asked how
this would sound, nor whether that would do, nor what would be
the effect of saying anything; but simply, 'Is it the truth?
Is it such as the public should know?' And if her judgment
answered, 'Yes,' she uttered it; no matter what turmoil it
might excite, nor what odium it might draw down on her
own head. Perfect conscientiousness was an unfailing
characteristic of her literary efforts. Even the severest
of her critiques,--that on Longfellow's Poems,--for which
an impulse in personal pique has been alleged, I happen with
certainty to know had no such origin. When I first handed her
the book to review, she excused herself, assigning the wide
divergence of her views of Poetry from those of the author and
his school, as her reason. She thus induced me to attempt the
task of reviewing it myself. But day after day sped by, and
I could find no hour that was not absolutely required for
the performance of some duty that _would not_ be put off, nor
turned over to another. At length I carried the book back to
her in utter despair of ever finding an hour in which even to
look through it; and, at my renewed and earnest request, she
reluctantly undertook its discussion. The statement of these
facts is but an act of justice to her memory.