As to their being
no more to me than others of my kind, there is surely a mystic
thrill betwixt children of one mother, which can never cease
to be felt till the soul is quite born anew. The earthly
family is the scaffold whereby we build the spiritual one. The
glimpses we here obtain of what such relations should be are
to me an earnest that the family is of Divine Order, and not a
mere school of preparation. And in the state of perfect being
which we call Heaven, I am assured that family ties will
attain to that glorified beauty of harmonious adaptation,
which stellar groups in the pure blue typify.'
Margaret's admirable fidelity, as daughter and sister,--amidst her
incessant literary pursuits, and her far-reaching friendships,--can be
justly appreciated by those only who were in her confidence; but from
the following slight sketches generous hearts can readily infer what
was the quality of her home-affections.
'Mother writes from Canton that my dear old grandmother is
dead. I regret that you never saw her. She was a picture of
primitive piety, as she sat holding the "Saint's Rest" in her
hand, with her bowed, trembling figure, and her emphatic nods,
and her sweet blue eyes.
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