This characteristic self-esteem determined the quality of Margaret’s influence, which was singularly penetrating, and most beneficent where most deeply and continuously felt.  Chance acquaintance with her, like a breath from the tropics, might have prematurely burst the buds of feeling in sensitive hearts, leaving after blight and barrenness.  Natures, small in compass and of fragile substance, might have been distorted and shattered by attempts to mould themselves on her grand model.  And in her seeming unchartered impulses,—­whose latent law was honorable integrity,—­eccentric spirits might have found encouragement for capricious license.  Her morbid subjectivity, too, might, by contagion, have affected others with undue self-consciousness.  And, finally, even intimate friends might have been tempted, by her flattering love, to exaggerate their own importance, until they recognized that her regard for them was but one niche in a Pantheon at whose every shrine she offered incense.  But these ill effects were superficial accidents.  The peculiarity of her power was to make all who were in concert with her feel the miracle of existence.  She lived herself with such concentrated force in the moments, that she was always effulgent with thought and affection,—­with conscience, courage, resource, decision, a penetrating and forecasting wisdom.  Hence, to associates, her presence seemed to touch even common scenes and drudging cares with splendor, as when, through the scud of a rain-storm, sunbeams break from serene blue openings, crowning familiar things with sudden glory.  By manifold sympathies, yet central unity, she seemed in herself to be a goodly company, and her words and deeds imparted the virtue of a collective life.  So tender was her affection, that, like a guardian genius, she made her friends’ souls her own, and identified herself with their fortunes; and yet, so pure and high withal was her justice, that, in her recognition of their past success and present claims, there came a summons for fresh endeavor after the perfect.  The very thought of her roused manliness to emulate the vigorous freedom, with which one was assured, that wherever placed she was that instant acting; and the mere mention of her name was an inspiration of magnanimity, and faithfulness, and truth.

  ’"Sincere has been their striving; great their love,”

‘is a sufficient apology for any life,’ wrote Margaret; and how preeminently were these words descriptive of herself.  Hers was indeed

  “The equal temper of heroic hearts,
  Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will,
  To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

This indomitable aspiration found utterance in the following verses, on

  ’SUB ROSA CRUX.

  ’In times of old, as we are told,
      When men more childlike at the feet
    Of Jesus sat than now,
  A chivalry was known, more bold
  Than ours, and yet of stricter vow,
      And worship more complete.