With this great heart, and these attractions, it was easy to add daily to the number of her friends.  With her practical talent, her counsel and energy, she was pretty sure to find clients and sufferers enough, who wished to be guided and supported.  ‘Others,’ she said, ’lean on this arm, which I have found so frail.  Perhaps it is strong enough to have drawn a sword, but no better suited to be used as a bolt, than that of Lady Catharine Douglas, of loyal memory.’  She could not make a journey, or go to an evening party, without meeting a new person, who wished presently to impart his history to her.  Very early, she had written to ——­, ’My museum is so well furnished, that I grow lazy about collecting new specimens of human nature.’  She had soon enough examples of the historic development of rude intellect under the first rays of culture.  But, in a thousand individuals, the process is much the same; and, like a professor too long pent in his college, she rejoiced in encountering persons of untutored grace and strength, and felt no wish to prolong the intercourse when culture began to have its effect I find in her journal a characteristic note, on receiving a letter on books and speculations, from one whom she had valued for his heroic qualities in a life of adventure:—­

’These letters of ——­ are beautiful, and moved me deeply.  It looks like the birth of a soul.  But I loved thee, fair, rich earth,—­and all that is gone forever.  This that comes now, we know in much farther stages.  Yet there is silver sweet in the tone, generous nobility in the impulses.’

* * * * *

’Poor Tasso in the play offered his love and service too officiously to all.  They all rejected it, and declared him mad, because he made statements too emphatic of his feelings.  If I wanted only ideal figures to think about, there are those in literature I like better than any of your living ones.  But I want far more.  I want habitual intercourse, cheer, inspiration, tenderness.  I want these for myself; I want to impart them.  I have done as Timon did, for these last eight years.  My early intercourses were more equal, because more natural.  Since I took on me the vows of renunciation, I have acted like a prodigal.  Like Timon, I have loved to give, perhaps not from beneficence, but from restless love.  Now, like Fortunatus, I find my mistresses will not thank me for fires made of cinnamon; rather they run from too rich an odor.  What shall I do? not curse, like him, (oh base!) nor dig my grave in the marge of the salt tide.  Give an answer to my questions, daemon!  Give a rock for my feet, a bird of peaceful and sufficient song within my breast!  I return to thee, my Father, from the husks that have been offered me.  But I return as one who meant not to leave Thee.’

Of course, she made large demands on her companions, and would soon come to sound their knowledge, and