“My friends told me of a similar verdict, pronounced upon Mr. ——­, at Paris, which they said was perfectly tremendous.  They themselves sat breathless; Mr. ——­ was struck dumb; his eyes fixed on her with wonder and amazement, yet gazing too with an attention which seemed like fascination.  When she had done, he still looked to see if she was to say more, and when he found she had really finished, he arose, took his hat, said faintly, ‘I thank you.’ and left the room.  He afterwards said to Mr. ——­, ’I never shall speak ill of her.  She has done me good.’  And this was the greater triumph, for this man had no theories of impersonality, and was the most egotistical and irritable of self-lovers, and was so unveracious, that one had to hope in charity that his organ for apprehending truth was deficient.”

ECSTASY.

I have alluded to the fact, that, in the summer of 1840, Margaret underwent some change in the tone and the direction of her thoughts, to which she attributed a high importance.  I remember, at an earlier period, when in earnest conversation with her, she seemed to have that height and daring, that I saw she was ready to do whatever she thought; and I observed that, with her literary riches, her invention and wit, her boundless fun and drollery, her light satire, and the most entertaining conversation in America, consisted a certain pathos of sentiment, and a march of character, threatening to arrive presently at the shores and plunge into the sea of Buddhism and mystical trances.  The literature of asceticism and rapturous piety was familiar to her.  The conversation of certain mystics, who had appeared in Boston about this time, had interested her, but in no commanding degree.  But in this year, 1840, in which events occurred which combined great happiness and pain for her affections, she remained for some time in a sort of ecstatic solitude.  She made many attempts to describe her frame of mind to me, but did not inspire me with confidence that she had now come to any experiences that were profound or permanent.  She was vexed at the want of sympathy on my part, and I again felt that this craving for sympathy did not prove the inspiration.  There was a certain restlessness and fever, which I did not like should deceive a soul which was capable of greatness.  But jets of magnanimity were always natural to her; and her aspiring mind, eager for a higher and still a higher ground, made her gradually familiar with the range of the mystics, and, though never herself laid in the chamber called Peace, never quite authentically and originally speaking from the absolute or prophetic mount, yet she borrowed from her frequent visits to its precincts an occasional enthusiasm, which gave a religious dignity to her thought.

    ’I have plagues about me, but they don’t touch me now.  I thank
    nightly the benignant Spirit, for the unaccustomed serenity in
    which it enfolds me.