Volume II Part 8 (1/2)

”In native worth and honor clad.”

Yes; even so would I ever see man. I will wait, and never despair, through all the dull years.'

'I am ”too fiery.” Even so. Ceres put her foster child in the fire because she loved him. If they thought so before, will they not far more now? Yet I wish to be seen as I am, and would lose all rather than soften away anything. Let my friends be patient and gentle, and teach me to be so. I never promised any one patience or gentleness, for those beautiful traits are not natural to me; but I would learn them. Can I not?'

'Of all the books, and men, and women, that have touched me these weeks past, what has most entered my soul is the music I have heard,--the masterly expression from that violin; the triumph of the orchestra, after the exploits on the piano; Braham, in his best efforts, when he kept true to the dignity of art; the Messiah, which has been given on two successive Sundays, and the last time in a way that deeply expressed its divine life; but above all, Beethoven's seventh symphony. What majesty! what depth! what tearful sweetness! what victory!

This was truly a fire upon an altar. There are a succession of soaring pa.s.sages, near the end of the third movement, which touch me most deeply. Though soaring, they hold on with a stress which almost breaks the chains of matter to the hearer.

O, how refres.h.i.+ng, after polemics and philosophy, to soar thus on strong wings! Yes, Father, I will wander in dark ways with the crowd, since thou seest best for me to be tied down.

But only in thy free ether do I know myself. When I read Beethoven's life, I said, ”I will never repine.” When I heard this symphony, I said, ”I will triumph.”

'To-day I have finished the life of Raphael, by Quatremere de Quincy, which has so long engaged me. It scarce goes deeper than a _catalogue raisonnee_, but is very complete in its way.

I could make all that splendid era alive to me, and inhale the full flower of the Sanzio. Easily one soars to wors.h.i.+p these angels of Genius. To venerate the Saints you must well nigh be one.

'I went out upon the lonely rock which commands so delicious a panoramic view. A very mild breeze had sprung up after the extreme heat. A sunset of the melting kind was succeeded by a perfectly clear moon-rise. Here I sat, and thought of Raphael.

I was drawn high up in the heaven of beauty, and the mists were dried from the white plumes of contemplation.'#/

'Only by emotion do we know thee, Nature. To lean upon thy heart, and feel its pulses vibrate to our own;--that is knowledge, for that is love, the love of infinite beauty, of infinite love. Thought will never make us be born again.

'My fault is that I think I feel _too much_. O that my friends would teach me that ”simple art of not too much!” How can I expect them to bear the ceaseless eloquence of my nature?'

'Often it has seemed that I have come near enough to the limits to see what they are. But suddenly arises afar the Fata Morgana, and tells of new Sicilies, of their flowery valleys and fields of golden grain. Then, as I would draw near, my little bark is shattered on the rock, and I am left on the cold wave. Yet with my island in sight I do not sink.'

'I look not fairly to myself, at the present moment. If n.o.ble growths are always slow, others may ripen far worthier fruit than is permitted to my tropical heats and tornadoes. Let me clasp the cross on my breast, as I have done a thousand times before.'

'Let me but gather from the earth one full-grown fragrant flower; Within my bosom let it bloom through, its one blooming hour; Within my bosom let it die, and to its latest breath My own shall answer, ”Having lived, I shrink not now from death.”

It is this n.i.g.g.ard halfness that turns my heart to stone; 'T is the cup seen, not tasted, that makes the infant moan.

For once let me press firm my lips upon the moment's brow, For once let me distinctly feel I am all happy now, And bliss shall seal a blessing upon that moment's brow.'

'I was in a state of celestial happiness, which lasted a great while. For months I was all radiant with faith, and love, and life. I began to be myself. Night and day were equally beautiful, and the lowest and highest equally holy. Before, it had seemed as if the Divine only gleamed upon me; but then it poured into and through me a tide of light. I have pa.s.sed down from the rosy mountain, now; but I do not forget its pure air, nor how the storms looked as they rolled beneath my feet. I have received my a.s.surance, and if the shadows should lie upon me for a century, they could never make me forgetful of the true hour. Patiently I bide my time.'

The last pa.s.sage describes a peculiar illumination, to which Margaret often referred as the period when her earthly being culminated, and when, in the noon-tide of loving enthusiasm, she felt wholly at one with G.o.d, with Man, and the Universe. It was ever after, to her, an earnest that she was of the Elect. In a letter to one of her confidential female friends, she thus fondly looks back to this experience on the mount of transfiguration:--

'You know how, when the leadings of my life found their interpretation, I longed to share my joy with those I prized most; for I felt that if they could but understand the past we should meet entirely. They received me, some more, some less, according to the degree of intimacy between our natures. But now I have done with the past, and again move forward. The path looks more difficult, but I am better able to bear its trials. We shall have much communion, even if not in the deepest places. I feel no need of isolation, but only of temperance in thought and speech, that the essence may not evaporate in words, but grow plenteous within. The Life will give me to my own. I am not yet so worthy to love as some others are, because my manifold nature is not yet harmonized enough to be faithful, and I begin, to see how much it was the want of a pure music in me that has made the good doubt me.