love of freedom, extreme susceptibility of impressions of beauty, and an imagination which bodies forth her feelings in forms of peculiar distinctness and freshness. Her works abound in bright pictures and fanciful thoughts, which seem to be of the atmosphere in which she lives. She transfuses into them something of her own spirit, which, though meditative and somewhat mystical, is always cheerful and radiant. In her revelation on music, illustrations of the doctrine of correspondence, and all the more speculative parts of her various writings, she has shown that fine perception of the mysterious analogy which exists between the physical and moral world, and of the mode in which the warp and woof of life are mingling, which is among the first attributes of the true poet.-GRISWOLD, RUFUS WILMOT, 1847, The Prose Writers of America, p. 427.

The design of the abolitionists, let us believe, is the improvement and happiness of the coloured race; for this end Mrs. Child devoted her noblest talents, her holiest aspirations. Seventeen years ago she consecrated her powers to this work. The result has been, that her fine genius, her soul's wealth has been wasted in the struggle which party politicians have used for their own selfish purposes. Had Mrs. Child taken the more quiet, but far more efficient mode of doing good to the coloured race by aiding to establish schools in Liberia-preparing and sending out free colored emigrants, who must there become teachers and exemplars to thousands and millions of the poor black heathen; if she had written for this mission of peace as she has poured her heart out in a cause only tending to strife, what blessed memorials of these long years would now be found to repay her disinterested exertions!-HALE, SARAH JOSEPHA, 1852, Woman's Record, p. 620.

Mrs. Child is a woman of strong and generous impulses, with a lively sense of beauty, especially fond of music, and of tracing fanciful analogies between its subtile suggestions and the sister arts, believing in absolute truth and justice, but somewhat too enthusiastic to preserve always the just balance of judgment. Her works apparently reflect her own nature, and bring the reader and author face to face. In the haste of composition there are occasional slips, and among so

many works there is not a uniform standard of merit; still there are few authors who have added so much to the pleasure and to the moral culture of our generation. It is to be hoped that a revised edition of her works may be published, as many of them are now out of print.-UNDERWOOD, FRANCIS H., 1872, A Hand-book of English Literature, American Authors, p. 220.

Whose "Letters from New York" were models in their kind; whose stories for young people have not been surpassed by any writer, except Andersen; whose more labored works have a quality that entitles them to a high place among the products of mind, is a devotee of the transcendental faith.-FROTHINGHAM, OCTAVIUS BROOKS, 1876, Transcendentalism in New England, p. 382.

In judging of this little book, ["Hobomok" it is to be remembered that it marked the very dawn of American imaginative literature. Irving had printed only his "Sketch Book;" Cooper only "Precaution." This new production was the hasty work of a young woman of nineteen-an Indian tale by one who had scarcely even seen an Indian. Accordingly "Hobomok" now seems very crude in execution, very improbable in plot; and is redeemed only by a certain earnestness which carries the reader along, and by a sincere attempt after local coloring. It is an Indian "Enoch Arden," with important modifications, which unfortunately all tend away from probability. . . . As the first work whose scene was laid in Puritan days, "Hobomok" will always have a historic interest, but it must be read in very early youth to give it any other attraction. . . . The "Frugal Housewife" now lies before me, after a great many years of abstinence from its appetizing pages. The words seem as familiar as when we children used to study them beside the kitchen fire, poring over them as if their very descriptions had power to allay an unquenched appetite or prolong the delights of one satiated. . . . As it ["Appeal"] was the first anti-slavery work ever printed in America in book form, so I have always thought it the ablest; that is, it covered the whole ground better than any other. I know that, on reading it for the first time, nearly ten years after its appearance, it had more formative influence on my mind in that direction than

any other, although of course the eloquence of public meetings was a more exciting stimulus. It never surprised me to hear that even Dr. Channing attributed a part of his own anti-slavery awakening to this admirable book. . . . I well remember the admiration with which this romance ["Philothea"] was hailed; and for me personally it was one of those delights of boyhood which the criticism of maturity cannot disturb. . . . She was one of those prominent instances in our literature of persons born for the pursuits of pure intellect, whose intellects were yet balanced by their hearts, both being absorbed in. the great moral agitations of the age. . . . She wrote better than most of her contemporaries, and well enough for her public, she did not, therefore, win that intellectual immortality which only the best writers command. . . . But she won a meed which she would value more highly, -that warmth of sympathy, that mingled gratitude of intellect and heart which men give to those who have faithfully served their day and generation.-HIGGINSON, THOMAS WENTWORTH, 1899, Contemporaries, pp. 114, 117, 123, 124, 140, 141.

As for the exact literary rank of this heroic woman, the critical scales must be

In

We

passed to younger and cooler hands. the homes of a few "original Garrisonians" her early books were still cherished. learned to read, that we might not be dependent on our busy elders for daily absorption in her "Flowers for Children." Our own offspring seem to detect a moral and Edgeworthian flavor in the cherished volume, and prefers "Little Women." We first heard the very names of Pericles and Plato in her Greek romance "Philothea." "The Letters from New York" widened the visa of a village street to our boyish eyes. Though not successful in rhythmical utterance, Mrs. Child had much of the poet's nature. Her "Philothea" is almost a rhapsody. Her firm faith in thoughttransference, her half-belief in metempsychosis, her mystical and ideal tendencies generally, unite with the frugality of the Yankee housewife even more grotesquely, at times, than the similar mixture in Emerson; and, like him, she is herself the first to laugh. Of all the picturesque figures among Transcendentalists and Abolitionists, there is perhaps not one so utterly lovable. Some of her books may yet regain their influence.-LAWTON, WILLIAM CRANSTON, 1902, Introduction to the Study of American Literature, p. 187.

PERSONAL

He was lacking in the gift of thrilling speech, his convictions did not fall glowing from his lips. His ideas, though clear, cogent, and earnestly put forth, did no execution. In a small room, among personal friends, on his own themes, and following his own impulse, he was eloquent, persuasive, enchanting; but in a meeting-house, on a formal occasion, before a mixed audience, on impersonal subjects, he was unimpassioned, almost cold. He must

have his hearer within arm's length; then his full power was felt. Individually his parishioners were much attached to him. They found him delightful in their homes; a true friend, sympathetic and consolating, more than ready in all cases of need with counsel and assistance. For many years after his ministry ceased, those who had known him as a pastor spoke of him with a depth of affection which nothing but faithful service could justify or explain. A few still live to speak tender words in

his memory. - FROTHINGHAM, OCTAVIUS BROOKS, 1882, George Ripley (American Men of Letters), p. 52.

The more the subject has been thought over, and long-buried memories of our dear friend reappear, the wider and richer the theme opens. And it would need many pages to present the least adequate portraits of George Ripley as a Christian minister, a scholar, an expounder of philosophy, a social reorganizer, a literary critic, an encyclopædist, a friend and a man. To me, in reviewing his diversified yet consistent, progressive and ascending career, he takes a front rank among the many leaders of thought whom it has been my rare privilege to know, in our own republic and in Europe. Especially would it gratify me to bear my testimony to the generous and quite heroic spirit, whereby he and his great souled wife were impelled to organize Brook Farm; and to the wise sagacity, genial good-heartedness, friendly sympathy, patience, persistency, and ideal hopefulness with which they energetically helped to carry out that romantic enterprise to the end.-CHANNING, WILLIAM HENRY, 1882, Letter to Mr. Frothingham, April 7; George Ripley by Octavius Brooks Frothingham (American Men of Letters), p. 302.

Although a scholar of great metaphysical and theological acuteness, and a critic of high rank exerting through the last years of his life a powerful influence as literary editor of the New York Tribune, George Ripley is chiefly remembered as the founder of the Brook Farm Community. Into this idea he threw all of his tremendous zeal and energy. He resigned his pulpit in Boston to devote his whole time to it, and for it he labored with earnestness and selfdenial. He was the motive power of the movement.-PATTEE, FRED LEWIS, 1896, A History of American Literature, p. 234.

Mr. Ripley, who sat at the head of the table, [Brook Farm, 1847] talked supremely well. He was a most striking figure, and every one was so intellectual and superior that one wished, had it been less warm and more fragrant, to stay there. Mr. Ripley, who afterwards became a very dear friend of mine in New York society, often spoke of that glimpse of mine at what had been to him a painful disappointment. He told me how badly some characters "panned out," how many illusions he lost. "It all

went up in smoke," he said; "and yet the theory seemed most plausible."-SHERWOOD, MARY E. W., 1897, An Epistle to Posterity, p. 37.

To the last there was a merry twinkle under the gold-bowed spectacles of Dr. Ripley. For all this I think the BrookFarm failure left a sore place in his heart. Later reform projects seemed to him, I feel sure, artificial, dishonest-as compared with that first out-put of the seeds of justice and brotherhood; always (for him) there was a rhythmic beat of celestial music in that far away choir of workers and singers brought together by his agency, bonded by his affectionate serenities and put upon the road-amidst rural beatitudestoward the Delectable Mountains and the heights of Beulah. . . . If an honest purethoughted man ever lived 'twas George Ripley; and he carried a beautiful zeal and earnestness into that Brook-Farm undertaking. Much as he enjoyed the genius of Hawthorne, I do not think he had kindly thought of the "Blithedale Romance": not indeed blind to its extraordinary merit, or counting it an ugly picture-but as one throwing a quasi pagan glamour over a holy undertaking.-MITCHELL, DONALD G., 1899, American Lands and Letters, Leather-Stocking to Poe's "Raven," pp. 161, 162.

Ripley discharged all the obligations resting on the Brook Farm Phalanx at the time of its dissolution. Although these did not amount to more than one thousand dollars, the last receipt was dated December 22, 1862, and was an acknowledgment of payment, partly in money and partly by a copy of the "Cyclopædia," received for groceries. No sharper comment is necessary on the deprivations of his first years in New York. It has been felt that nobody gained less from the Brook Farm experiment than did Ripley, and although that surmise must in many ways be true, it cannot, in the largest sense, be accepted by those who have followed carefully the man's after life. The blows of the hammer may harden the metal into a rail or temper it into a Damascus blade. Both the bludgeon and the blade are useful, but the latter does the finer work. So when courage becomes not defiance but fortitude; when endurance does not allow itself to sink into stoicism at the death of that in which belief has been deepest, there is good certainty that much besides

a crushing impact has accrued to the victim of fate.-SWIFT, LINDSAY, 1900, Brook Farm, Its Members, Scholars and Visitors, p. 145.

GENERAL

He wrote from observation, reading, knowledge, not from feeling or fancy. From the first he did this. His training at school and college; his years of experience in an exacting profession; his exercise in reviews and controversies; his familiarity with the best productions of American, English, German and French genius; the severe mental and moral discipline of Brook Farm, all conspired with a remarkable firmness and moderation of temperament, to repress any impulse towards affectation or undue exhilaration of judgment, while his natural buoyancy of spirits, his inborn kindness of heart, his knowledge of intellectual difficulties, and his sympathy with even modest aspirations, saved him from moroseness, and rendered it impossible for him to ply with severity the scourage of criticism. . . . The competency of Mr. Ripley's literary judgments has often been remarked on. He did not wait till others had spoken, and then venture an opinion. He spoke at once, and he spoke with confidence, as one who had good reason for what he said. Whether the book in question was the "Scarlet Letter," the "Origin of Species," or the "Light of Asia," the verdict was equally prompt and decided. There was no dogmatism, no boasting, no claim to special insight, no affectation of patronage; simply a quiet recognition of talent and an appreciation of its value in the world of letters. That his judgments were generally confirmed by specialists is an evidence of their intrinsic worth; that they were usually ratified by the public testifies to his knowledge of the public taste. . . . His intellectual temperament aided him. in his task. The absence of passion was a great advantage. The lack of ardent partisan feeling made possible the calm, clear, judicial temper so necessary to the critic. The want of what may be called the "artistic constitution" which delights in music, painting, sculpture, architecture, did something to insure the equability of his poise. His mental force was not wasted by emotion or attenuated by distraction. He was no dreamer, no visionary, no enthusiast, no creature of

The wisest, most equitable, and keenly discriminating while generous critic of his nation. . . . These masterly essays, which have never been surpassed in America, for thoroughness of scholarship, massive argument and loftiness of appeal. And, indeed, it would be difficult, anywhere to find a more lucid exposition of the highest Spiritual Philosophy,—a more profound and penetrating while sympathetic interpretation of Spinoza's speculative and ethical System,-or a more touchingly reverent, while finely discriminating, analysis of Schleiermacher's inspiring doctrine, than can be found in these admirably composed "Three Letters of an Alumnus," each of which in temper, thought, and style, might serve as a model of philosophical discussion, vitalised and sanctified by religious fervour and magnanimous humanity. These "Letters" clearly indicate that, if their writer had felt free in conscience to consecrate his life to scholarship, he would have found no superior and but few peers among his countrymen, as a Philosopher, a Theologian, or a Religious Historian and Critic.-CHANNING, WILLIAM HENRY, 1883, George Ripley, The Modern Review, vol. 4, pp. 521, 534.

.

It seems to me, one can hardly assign to this veteran American critic a high or permanent place in our literary history. He was equipped with a wide knowledge, including philosophy and theology, as well as belles-lettres; contemporary European literature was familiar to him; his tastes and sympathies were, as a rule, both kindly and catholic; he had few hobbies to ride or rancors to exhibit; no trace of embittering personal dissappointment appeared in his reviews; and he did not yield, as far as I know, to individual. dislikes or petty spites. But his critical work could not be compared, in merit, with that of such an essayist as Mr. Lowell, nor with the unsigned and unrecognized reviews of some less known writers.

It

lacked grasp; the points Dr. Ripley sought to make must be found by the readers at some cost of time and trouble. His writing was, as a rule, diffuse; terse or remarkable characterizations were lacking; nor did one often find a sentence that went straight to the heart of a book. Dr. Ripley was considered to have an unusual ability as a summarizer of the books he reviewed, but summarizing by paraphrase or by scissors-work, is the easiest kind of criticism. Again, his use of adjectives, was sometimes deemed a merit; but these adjectives were generally used to round

out a style perpetually "balanced" or Johnsonian. The writer evidently sought to leave an impression of profundity and nice analytical power; but this impression was produced upon those who delighted in the literary habit of saying that, though B follows A in the alphabet, it undoubtedly precedes C. Dr. Ripley's reviews, as a rule, could have been divided into parallel columns, each sentence separated into halves by such words as, but, yet, though, notwithstanding.-RICHARDSON, CHARLES F., 1887, American Literature, 1607-1885, vol. I, p. 429.

PERSONAL

Jones Very came hither two days since. His position accuses society as much as society names that false and morbid. And much of his discourse concerning society, church and college was absolutely just. He says it is with him a day of hate: that he discerns the bad element in every person whom he meets, which repels him: he even shrinks a little to give the hand, that sign of receiving. The institutions, the cities which men have built the world over, look to him like a huge ink-blot. His only guard in going to see men is, that he goes to do them good, else they would injure him spiritually. He lives in the sight that He who made him, made the things he sees. He would as soon embrace a black Egyptian mummy as Socrates. He would obey,-obey. He is not disposed to attack religions or charities, though false. The bruised reed he would not break, smoking flax not quench. He had the manners of a man,-one, that is, to whom life was more than meat. He felt it, he said, an honour to wash his face, being, as it was, the temple of the spirit. I ought not to omit to record the astonish

ment which seized all the company when our brave Saint the other day fronted the presiding Preacher. The preacher began to tower and dogmatise with many words. Then I foresaw that his doom was fixed; and, as soon as he had ceased speaking, the Saint set him right, and blew away all his words in an instant,-unhorsed him, I may say, and tumbled him along the ground in utter dismay, like my angel of Heliodorus; never was discomfiture more complete. In tones of genuine pathos, he bid him wonder at the Love which suffered him to speak there in his chair of things he knew nothing of; one might expect to see the book taken from his hands and him thrust out of the room, and yet he was allowed to sit and talk, whilst every word he spoke was a step of departure from the truth; and of this he commanded himself to bear witness.-EMERSON, RALPH WALDO, 1838, Journal, Oct. 26.

He was good as goodness itself, true as truth. With his knowledge and wisdom he was as simple as a child-transparent and artless. He was the extremest possible distance from pomposity or pretension, and when he believed that poetry, which