‘It will be happiness indeed, if, on passing this first stage, we are permitted, in some degree, to alleviate the ills of those we love, to lead them on a little way; to aid them when they call. Often it seems to me, it would be sweet to feel that I had certainly conferred one benefit. All my poor little schemes for others are apparently blighted, and now, as ever, I am referred to the Secular year for the interpretation of my moments.’
In one of Margaret’s manuscripts is found this beautiful
symbol: — ‘There is a species of Cactus, from whose
outer bark, if torn by an ignorant person, there exudes
a poisonous liquid; but the natives, who know the
plant, strike to the core, and there find a sweet, refreshing
juice, that renews their strength.’ Surely the
preceding extracts prove that she was learning how to draw
life-giving virtue from the very heart of evil. No
superficial experience of sorrow embittered her with angry
despair; but through profound acceptance, she sought to
imbibe, from every ill, peace, purity and gentleness.
The two fiery trials through which she had been
made to pass, and through which she was yet to pass
again and again, — obstruction to the development of
her genius, and loneliness of heart, — were the very
furnace needed to burn the dross from her gold, till it could
fitly image the Heavenly Refiner. By inherited traits,
and indiscreet treatment, self-love had early become so
excessive that only severest discipline could transmute
it to disinterestedness. Pity for her own misfortunes
had, indeed, taught her to curb her youthful scorn for
mediocrity, and filled her with considerateness and delicate
sensibility. Constant experience, too, of the won-