the unworthy, to rouse each generous impulse, to invigorate thought
by truth incarnate in beauty, and with unfelt ministry to weave bright
threads in her web of fate. Thus more and more Margaret became
an object of respectful interest, in whose honor, magnanimity and
strength I learned implicitly to trust.

Separation, however, hindered our growing acquaintance, as we both
left Cambridge, and, with the exception of a few chance meetings in
Boston and a ramble or two in the glens and on the beaches of Rhode
Island, held no further intercourse till the summer of 1839, when, as
has been already said, the friendship, long before rooted, grew up and
leafed and bloomed.




II.

A CLUE.

* * * * *


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