"'Woman in the Nineteenth Century' is a book which few women in the country could have written, and no woman in the country would have published, with the exception of Miss Fuller. In the way of independence, of unmitigated radicalism, it is one of the 'Curiosities of American Literature,' and Doctor Griswold should include it in his book. I need scarcely say that the essay is nervous, forcible, suggestive, brilliant, and to a certain extent scholar-like--for all that Miss Fuller produces is entitled to these epithets--but I must say that the conclusions reached are only in part my own. Not that they are bold, by any means--too novel, too startling or too dangerous in their consequences, but that in their attainment too many premises have been distorted, and too many analogical inferences left altogether out of sight. I mean to say that the intention of the Deity as regards sexual differences--an intention which can be distinctly comprehended only by throwing the exterior (more sensitive) portions of the mental retina _casually_ over the wide field of universal _analogy_--I mean to say that this _intention_ has not been sufficiently considered. Miss Fuller has erred, too, through her own excessive objectiveness. She judges _woman_ by the heart and intellect of Miss Fuller, but there are not more than one or two dozen Miss Fullers on the whole face of the earth. Holding these opinions in regard to 'Woman in the Nineteenth Century,' I still feel myself called upon to disavow the silly, condemnatory criticism of the work which appeared in one of the earlier numbers of "_The Broadway Journal_." That article was _not_ written by myself, and _was_ written by my associate, Mr. Briggs. "The most favorable estimate of Miss Fuller's genius (for high genius she unquestionably possesses) is to be obtained, perhaps, from her contributions to 'The Dial,' and from her 'Summer on the Lakes.' Many of the _descriptions_ in this volume are unrivaled for _graphicality_, (why is there not such a word?) for the force with which they convey the true by the novel or unexpected, by the introduction of touches which other artists would be sure to omit as irrelevant to the subject. This faculty, too, springs from her subjectiveness, which leads her to paint a scene less by its features than by its effects. "Here, for example, is a portion of her account of Niagara:--