and feelings by which masses are swayed, become eminent politicians, sagacious leaders, and eminent in all political affairs,— a few, like Margaret, study character, and acquire the power of exerting profoundest influence on individual souls.
I had expressed to her my desire to know something of the history of her mind,—to understand her aims, her hopes, her views of life. In a note written in reply, she answered me thus:—
‘I cannot bring myself to write you what you wished.
You would be disappointed, at any rate, after all the
solemn note of preparation; the consciousness of this
would chill me now. Besides, I cannot be willing to
leave with you such absolute vagaries in a tangible,
examinable shape. I think of your after-smiles, of
your colder moods. But I will tell you, when a fitting
opportunity presents, all that can interest you, and
perhaps more. And excuse my caution. I do not profess,
I may not dare, to be generous in these matters.’
To this I replied to the effect that, “in my coldest
mood I could not criticize words written in a confiding
spirit;” and that, at all events, she must not expect of
me a confidence which she dared not return. This was
the substance of a note to which Margaret thus replied:—
‘I thank you for your note. Ten minutes before I
received it, I scarcely thought that anything again
would make my stifled heart throb so warm a pulse of
pleasure. Excuse my cold doubts, my selfish arrogance,
— you will, when I tell you that this experiment has
before had such uniform results; those who professed
