soon surrounded herself with a little mythology of her own. She had a series of anniversaries, which she kept. Her seal-ring of the flying Mercury had its legend. She chose the Sistrum for her emblem, and had it carefully drawn with a view to its being engraved on a gem. And I know not how many verses and legends came recommended to her by this symbolism. Her dreams, of course, partook of this symmetry. The same dream returns to her periodically, annually, and punctual to its night. One dream she marks in her journal as repeated for the fourth time: —
‘In C., I at last distinctly recognized the figure of the
early vision, whom I found after I had left A., who led
me, on the bridge, towards the city, glittering in sunset,
but, midway, the bridge went under water. I have
often seen in her face that it was she, but refused to
believe it.’
She valued, of course, the significance of flowers, and
chose emblems for her friends from her garden.
‘TO ————, WITH HEARTSEASE.
‘Content, in purple lustre clad,
Kingly serene, and golden glad,
No demi-hues of sad contrition,
No pallors of enforced submission; —
Give me such content as this,
And keep awhile the rosy bliss.’
DÆMONOLOGY.
This catching at straws of coincidence, where all is geometrical, seems the necessity of certain natures. It
