e, while the sister was married,
and the mother felt calls to visit in turn her scattered children, it
was determined to break up the "Home." 'As a family,' Margaret writes,

'we are henceforth to be parted. But though for months I had
been preparing for this separation, the last moments were very
sad. Such tears are childish tears, I know, and belie a deeper
wisdom. It is foolish in me to be so anxious about my family.
As I went along, it seemed as if all I did was for God's sake;
but if it had been, could I now thus fear? My relations to
them are altogether fair, so far as they go. 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. They were bright to the last, though
she was ninety. It is a great loss to mother, who felt a large
place warmed in her heart by the fond and grateful love of
this aged parent.'

'We cannot be sufficiently grateful for our mother,--so so
fair a blossom of the white amaranth; truly to us a mother
in this, that we can venerate her piety. Our relations to her
have known no jar. Nothing vulgar has sullied them; and in
this respect life has been truly domesticated. Indeed, when I
compare my lot with others, it seems to have had a more than