when measured by her conscious aim; and experience had brought out to consciousness excesses and defects, which humbled pride while shaming self-confidence. But suffering as she did with all the intensity of so passionate a nature, Margaret still welcomed the searching discipline. ‘It is only when Persephone returns from lower earth that she weds Dyonysos, and passes from central sadness into glowing joy,’ she writes. And again: ‘I have no belief in beautiful lives; we are born to be mutilated; and the blood must flow till in every vein its place is supplied by the Divine ichor.’ And she reiterates: ‘The method of Providence with me is evidently that of “cross-biassing,” as Herbert hath it.’ In a word, to her own conscience and to intimate friends she avowed, without reserve, that there was in her much rude matter that needed to be spiritualized.’ Comment would but weaken the pathos of the following passages, in which so plainly appears a once wilful temper striving, with child-like faith, to obey: —
‘I have been a chosen one; the lesson of renunciation
was early, fully taught, and the heart of stone
quite broken through. The Great Spirit wished to
leave me no refuge but itself. Convictions have been
given, enough to guide me many years if I am steadfast.
How deeply, how gratefully I feel this blessing,
as the fabric of others’ hopes are shivering round me.
Peace will not always flow thus softly in my life; but,
O, our Father! how many hours has He consecrated
to Himself. How often has the Spirit chosen the
time, when no ray came from without, to descend
upon the orphan life!’
