* * * * *
I have no hope of conveying to readers my sense of the beauty of our
relation, as it lies in the past with brightness falling on it from
Margaret's risen spirit. It would be like printing a chapter of
autobiography, to describe what is so grateful in memory,
its influence upon one's self. And much of her inner life, as
confidentially disclosed, could not be represented without betraying
a sacred trust. All that can be done is to open the outer courts, and
give a clue for loving hearts to follow. To such these few sentences
may serve as a guide.
'When I feel, as I do this morning, the poem of existence, I
am repaid for all trial. The bitterness of wounded affection,
the disgust at unworthy care, the aching sense of how far
deeds are transcended by our lowest aspirations, pass away as
I lean on the bosom of Nature, and inhale new life from her
breath. Could but love, like knowledge, be its own reward!'
'Oftentimes I have found in those of my own sex more
gentleness, grace, and purity, than in myself; but seldom the
heroism which I feel within my own breast. I blame not those
who think the heart cannot bleed because it is so strong;
but little they dream of what lies concealed beneath the
determined courage. Yet mine has been the Spartan sternness,
smiling while it hides the wound. I long rather for the
Christian spirit, which even on the cross prays, "Father,
forgive them," and rises above fortitude to heavenly
satisfaction.'
* * * * *
'Remember that only through aspirations, which sometimes
make me what is called unreasonable, have I been enabled to
vanquish unpropitious circumstances, and save my soul alive.'
* * * * *
'All the good I have ever done has been by calling on every
nature for its highest. I will admit that sometimes I have
been wanting in gentleness, but never in tenderness, nor in
noble faith.'
* * * * *
'The heart which hopes and dares is also accessible to terror,
and this falls upon it like a thunderbolt. It can never defend
itself at the moment, it is so surprised. There is no defence
but to strive for an equable temper of courageous submission,
of obedient energy, that shall make assault less easy to the
foe.
'_This_ is the dart within the heart, as well as I can tell
it:--At moments, the music of the universe, which daily I am
upheld by hearing, seems to stop. I fall like a bird when the
sun is eclipsed, not looking for such darkness. The sense of
my individual law--that lamp of life--flickers. I am repelled
in what is most natural to me. I feel as, when a suffering
child, I would go and lie with my face to the ground, to sob
away my little life.'
* * * * *
'In early years, when, though so frank as to the thoughts of
the mind, I put no heart confidence in any human being, my
refuge was in my journal. I have burned those records of my
youth, with its bitter tears, and struggles, and aspirations.
Those aspirations were high, and have gained only broader
foundations and wider reach. But the leaves had done their
work. For years to write there, instead of speaking, had
enabled me to soothe myself; and the Spirit was often my
friend, when I sought no other. Once again I am willing to
take up the cross of loneliness. Resolves are idle, but the
anguish of my soul has been, deep. It will not be easy to
profane life by rhetoric.'
* * * * *
'I woke thinking of the monks of La Trappe;--how could they
bear their silence? When the game of life was lost for me, in
youthful anguish I knew well the desire for that vow; but if
I had taken it, my heart would have burned out my physical
existence long ago.'
* * * * *
'Save me from plunging into the depths to learn the worst, or
from being led astray by the winged joys of childish feeling.
I pray for truth in proportion as there is strength to
receive.'
* * * * *
'My law is incapable of a charter. I pass all bounds, and
cannot do otherwise. Those whom it seems to me I am to meet
again in the Ages, I meet, soul to soul, now. I have no
knowledge of any circumstances except the degree of affinity.'
* * * * *
'I feel that my impatient nature needs the dark days. I would
learn the art of limitation, without compromise, and act out
my faith with a delicate fidelity. When loneliness becomes too
oppressive, I feel Him drawing me nearer, to be soothed by
the smile of an All-Intelligent Love. He will not permit
the freedom essential to growth to be checked. If I can give
myself up to Him, I shall not be too proud, too impetuous,
neither too timid, and fearful of a wound or cloud.'