some hill
was between us, and we neither saw nor heard one another."

Margaret now made many attempts to extricate herself from her dangerous
situation, and at last attained a point from which she could see the
lake, and the inn from which she had started in the morning. But the
mountain paths were crossed by watercourses, and hemmed in by bogs.
After much climbing up and down, Margaret, already wet, very weary, and
thinly clad, saw that she must pass the night on the mountain. The spot
at which the light forsook her was of so precipitous a character as to
leave her, in the dark, no liberty of movement. Yet she did keep in
motion of some sort through the whole of that weary night; and this, she
supposes, saved her life. The stars kept her company for two hours, when
the mist fell and hid them. The moon rose late, and was but dimly
discernible. At length morning came, and Margaret, starting homeward
once more, came upon a company of shepherds, who carried her, exhausted,
to the inn, where her distressed friends were waiting for news of her.
Such was the extent of the mountain, that a party of twenty men, with
dogs, sent in search of the missing one, were not heard by her, and did
not hear her voice, which she raised from time to time, hoping to call
some one to her rescue. The strength of Margaret's much-abused
constitution was made evident by her speedy recovery from the effects
of this severe exposure. A fit vigil, this, for one who was about to
witness the scenes of 1848. She speaks of the experience as "sublime
indeed, a never-to-be-forgotten presentation of stern, serene
realities.... I had had my grand solitude, my Ossianic visions, and the
pleasure of sustaining myself." After visiting Glasgow and Stirling,
Margaret and her friends returned to England by Abbotsford and Melrose.

In Birmingham Margaret heard two discourses from George Dawson, then
considered a young man of much promise. In Liverpool she had already
heard James Martineau, and in London she listened to William Fox. She
compares these men with William Henry Channing and Theodore Parker:--

"None of them compare in the symmetrical arrangement of extempore
discourse, or in pure eloquence and communication of spiritual beauty,
with Channing, nor in fulness and sustained flow with Parker."

Margaret's estimate of Martineau is interesting:--

"Mr. Martineau looks like the over-intellectual, the partially developed
man, and his speech confirms this imp