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The baristical artifices employed to give a color to this charge are various, but the chief basis is an anonymous letter 'supposed to be writ by W. Penn'-(but never acknowleged by him)—and the report of an interview which Dr. Hough and the heads of the college sought and obtained of Penn. Dr. Hough's report in no way sanctions Mr. Macaulay's most intemperate accusation; brief as it is, it exhibits Penn in a noble light. He reports Penn as saying, 'Nothing in this world was worth a trick, or anything suffi cient to justify collusion or deceitful artifice '-(a dignified and sufficient denial of the letter) and adds-'I thank God he did not so much as offer at any proposal by way of accommodation-only once he said, smiling, If the Bishop of Oxford die, Dr. Hough may be made bishop.'

And this is what Mr. Macaulay calls, tempting to perjury! Poor Penn! Thy habitual gravity is hypocrisy-and thy occasional smile something worse! Prejudice is hard to please.

Mr. Macaulay represents W. Penn as having been 'employed to terrify or caress' in this business of the quarrel between the College aud the King. No proof is given.

He implies that he concealed 'part of his thoughts.' He did no such thing; but plainly told the fellows that they could not yield obedience' to the King without perjury.

The letter supposed to be written by W. Penn,' he attributes to him as a fact! Yet in the margin of the copy of this letter, preserved in the college archives, a MS. memorandum exists—' Mr. Penn disowned this'!-while the style and mode of address-'Sir, Majesty,' etc., are no way Pennish.

Moreover, the letter has no intimidating language in it. Its kindness was the only reason for Dr. Bailey's thinking it might be Penn's, whom he represents as appearing on their behalf,' and 'using his credit with his Majesty to undeceive him in any wrong impression.' Finally, his version of the Windsor audience is a complete tissue of perversions. Mr. Macaulay says, that Penn began to hint at a compromise'; Hough thanked God that he did nothing of the sort. Compare the historian' with the 'record.' He represents Penn as 'employed' to solicit the fellows-it says that they went forty miles to solicit him!

He represents Penn as urging certain topics to persuade them to compromise-it describes Penn as using these simply to convince the fellows that his intercession could scarcely be successful.

He represents Penn as trying to overcome their conscientious scruples-it says that Penn allowed their answers to be satisfactory. And so on to the end of the chapter.

Mr. Macaulay has brought up the reputation of the Dead Quaker to the bar of public opinion for Trial-he himself, however, playing rather the part of the hired Advocate than fulfilling the function of the impartial Judge. We are reminded of that other trial to which Penn himself was subjected in the body— nearly two centuries ago-when at the bar of the Old Bailey he asserted' The People's Ancient and Just Liberties'—and, thanks to his own courage and capacity, wrung an acquittal from the Jury. He bravely fought our battle-the battle of universal religious freedom-shall we not, in all truth, defend his name, ́and honor his memory?

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WOMAN IN OUR TIME.

Woman in the Nineteenth Century. BY S. MARGARET FULLER. New York, 1845, H. G. Clarke and Co., London.

F THE female writers of the day, no one is so little known, in this country, as Miss Fuller. This may arise, in some degree, from her works being metaphysical in their character: the exponents of thought more deep and spiritual than is generally to be met with in the productions of the female mind. Her books are by no means of that class called sofa reading; nor will they prove favorites with those who read for excitement: but to the student who has an aim and purpose in the perusal of a work, they will yield increase of mental power, and much food for reflection, even should he differ in sentiment from the writer, or fail to perceive the cogency and conclusiveness of her arguments.

"The herd of mankind," says Madame Roland, in her Appeal, "think but little, believe on the mere word of another, and act from instinct; so that there prevails a perpetual contradiction between the principles they admit, and the conduct they pursue. Strong minds proceed differently: they require consistency, and their actions are the index of their faith." This passage might be prefixed to Miss Fuller's book. It is a protest, and a right earnest one, against the inconsistency that exists at present in the mass of society, between the profession and the life. That which former writers have winked at in their enumeration of evils, or at most alluded to slightly, she stigmatizes openly and fearlessly; and, regardless of the censure that may fall upon herself, traces with determined assiduity the diseases of society to their real source.

Very different, of course, will be the impressions made on different minds by the perusal of this book; nay, very different on the same mind, at different stages of development. But let all remember, that in order to the due appreciation of a work of art, we must have undergone a certain degree of cultivation. We must have put our own hand to the plough, or at all events mingled much with those who have, ere we may presume to decide on a question of difficulty. Without such preparatory study there may be opinion, estimation, but no just judgment or criticism. Such can only result from a large and thoro experience, combined with powers of intellect capable of sifting and proving this experience, for not a few mistake the anomalous misgrowths of their own individuality' for the workings and phases of progression, and quarrel with every mind that partakes not of the same form and features as their own. We premize thus, because we suspect, from what we have heard of Miss Fuller in conversation, that she is one very likely to be misjudged, even by the charitable and worthy; her genius being of that marked and peculiar cast that perplexes and often baffles the mind that would draw sustenance from it: its soundings requiring a fathom line so much longer than theirs, at its utmost stretch, may measure,

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We well remember Emerson's reply when we spoke to him of Miss FullerMargaret is always a surprize: her heights are inexhaustible." This we think is the correct characterization of her mind-progression, and progression by height or depth, not by breadth. To penetrate to the springs of action, to teach us how to turn the mind in upon itself and bring up pearls from spiritual depths, is her province; but she is without that sweetness of nature that calls forth love. Her classification of woman- -borrowed so far from Göthe to be sure-is excellent; yet we know not where we should place herself. She has the wisdom of the Sibyl nature, but not the passion-the womanly emotion that, blending with aspiration, excites in us such deep and lasting interest. She is evidently a woman of high piety, and piety not of the formalistic kind, but vital and active,—yet she has nothing of the Saint; the sweetness, the perfect lowliness, are wanting. A friend of ours who met with her, and thought her a very extraordinary woman, writes:" She has gained her superiority at some expense to her femininity. It appears to me that whether married or unmarried, it is the greatest glory and beauty of a woman to be suffused and bedewed all over with that inexpressible Quality of Motherliness; it should surround their heads like the intangible Glories which Painters throw around the heads of Saints." She is calm and heroic fit to be a lady abbess to the young, and a counselor to the aged; yet aiding more by stoicism than sympathy.

George Sand, with her wealth of emotion and opulence of imagination, errs, suffers, aspires, and by all these gains large additions to her experience; and thrö her pallet's being thus replete with every shade of feeling, her painting is rich and effective. She fails where Miss Fuller would succeed. Her 'Spiridion' is, we think, a failure, because she has in it attempted to give the workings of a spiritual nature, in which region she is not at home. Emotion is her province, as the clear azure of the Ideal is Miss Fuller's. Her nature is lofty, intense, fervid, but not spiritual. She is one before whom we must pause and ponder, suspending our judgment. Passing rapidly thrö the earthquakes of progressive being, she is an enigma to the common mind. Their meagre theories are shivered before her force and freedom of nature. Her friends and sympathizers will be few, who, with less force of nature than herself, have still so much as to enable them to comprehend and excuse her. We know nothing more encouraging and beautiful belonging to this age than Miss Barret's fine Sonnets to George Sand. A kindred soul, endowed with quick and keen emotions, yet with these held in subjection by a higher spiritual development, and a pure practical piety, she greets this erring Magdalene as a very sister; and, where this world and its cold narrow bigotry frowns, speaks to her in a voice of mingled remonstrance and love.

A DESIRE.

Thou large-brained woman, and large-hearted man,
Self-called George Sand! whose soul, amid the lions
Of thy tumultuous senses, moans defiance,
And answers roar for roar, as spirits can;
I would some mild, miraculous thunder ran
Above the applauding circus, in appliance
Of thine own nobler nature's strength and science,

Drawing two pinions, white as wings of swan,
From thy strong shoulders, to amaze the place
With holier light; that thou to woman's claim
And man's might join, beside, the angel's grace,
Of a pure genius sanctified from blame;
Till child and maiden pressed to thine embrace
To kiss upon thy lips a stainless fame.

A RECOGNITION.

True genius, but true Woman! dost deny
Thy woman's nature with a manly scorn,
And break away the gauds and armlets worn
By weaker woman in captivity!
Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry

Is sobbed in by a woman's voice forlorn :-
Thy woman's hair, my sister, all unshorn,
Floats back disheveled strength in agony,
Disproving thy man's name, and while before
The world thou burnest in a poet-fire,

We see thy woman's heart beat evermore

Thro the large flame. Beat purer, heart, and higher,
Till God unsex thee on the spirit-shore,

To which alone unsexing, purely aspire.

With deeper insight, and intelligence equalling if not surpassing that of Miss Barret, Miss Fuller could not have made such a recognition. She does not dogmatize, for a nature so large and philosophical is incapable of dogmatizing; but she announces her plans of reformation in a dogmatic spirit, and lords it over the weak. We do not think this becoming: we have all met with natures beautiful, tho limited, and for this very beauty have been able to forgive the limitations. We all know that fervor and impetuosity have often led into error: yet who would condemn fervor and impetuosity? Who does not love Mary Magdalene? or who dares to despise Peter?

We think Miss Fuller has overlooked one thing in her classification of woman, which is, that one mind may, in the progress of development, pass thrö all, or nearly all, the types of feminine attainment. We do not say that the Sappho might pass into the Sibyl, or the Sibyl into the Saint; but, exclusive of these three, one mind might, in passing along the scale of Being, be nearly or altogether any of the others in succession. These three are elementarily distinct, and will for ever remain so. They are essentially distinct, tho having much in commonthe Platonic three-the Sibyl being a union of the suffering arising from earthly emotion, and of aspiration after the Divine. We know not which interests us most deeply the Saint leading on earth the course of the glorified without obstruction, her life-blood the spirit-wine of heaven;-the Sappho enchaining us by force and intensity, till she leads us to the very verge of forbidden ground;—or the essence, mysterious and incomprehensible, that dwells in and around the Sibyl, and binds with a halo of beauty that wasted, warring, isolated one.

In Archdeacon Hare's Life of John Sterling' there is a letter written by Sterling from Florence, in which is a passage describing the world famous Venus de Medici as a pretty

Several women might be named who have passed thrö all the types given by Miss Fuller, ending by becoming one or other of these three, yet preserving thröout perfect individuality of character.

Of Miss Fuller's strenuous efforts to induce a higher culture of the female mind, we cannot speak too highly. She sees the evil and states it with ability and force. She can trace the mischievous effects of ignorance and helplessness in woman thrö all their ramifications, and boldly pourtray all the wide-spread, injurious influences, and degrading consequences, that spring from these; keeping society unimproved and stagnant, ignoble in its motives, and low in its aims. With all the scorn of a lofty and powerful intellect, she denounces that seeming that unmakes our being'-that outward virtue that debases and debilitates the race, choking up the living fountains of the spirit. She would have a thoro cleansing, aud unhesitatingly points out and stigmatizes those chambers of pollution from which the diseases of society spring. All lovers of purity will own her to be in the right, even while they confess the difficulty of the system of reform that she proposes. They will venerate that daring fortitude, which, in a shallow and insincere age, gave utterance to a plan of amendment so comprehensive and efficient; and hail the period that produced such an heroic woman, as the dawn of a better and more spiritual era. They will pray that her suggestions and remonstrances may find their way to many hearts, making them hourly more alive to the sacred nature of virtue, and the debasing influence of vice, however fascinating the forms it may assume. In short, they will see in her the champion of Truth in the inner man; a preacher of that comprehensive conversion, that, originating in the region of the Soul, not in the empirical Understanding which looks only to utility and expediency, brings back the vagrant fancy to the old, stern, apostolic declaration, that whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap; for he that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the spirit, shall of the spirit reap life everlasting.

There is a remarkable article, published originally in The Dial, but republished by Mr. Chapman in his Characteristics of Genius. We were never told that it was Miss Fuller's, but we trust the testimony of internal evidence, and feel assured that we are not mistaken in ascribing it to her. The Article is on Göthe. In it we see the strong bent of her nature towards depth: its leaning towards that pure and absorbing spirituality which she sees to be the Bethesda that is to purify and heal a sinking race. The Editor, in his able Introductory Chapter,' speaks of the author of this essay as not sufficiently catholic in spirit to do justice to Göthe. We think he errs in so saying. That Göthe was selfishworldly in one sense of the word-is evident to his greatest admirers. Rahel's intuitive discernment causes her to exclaim-'I do not love him, I only adore him.' Here is a key put into our hands by a bystander, solving much that is

innocent, without either piety or passion. Never having seen this celebrated piece of art, save thro the medium of casts, we scarcely knew whether to conclude that we were altogether mad, for in us it never called up an emotion, either of one kind or another: there was neither passion to interest, nor piety to elevate-we stood before it altogether unmoved. Yet physical beauty delights us, and in this celebrated antique there is certainly perfect physical beauty; nevertheless to us it is without interest, having neither the expression of action, nor the dignity of repose.

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