n the dark
background of my dreams) the imperfect lineaments of the awful sisters.
These sisters--by what name shall we call them?

If I say simply--"The Sorrows," there will be a chance of mistaking the
term; it might be understood of individual sorrow--separate cases of
sorrow,--whereas I want term expressing the mighty abstractions that
incarnate themselves in all individual sufferings of man's heart; and I
wish to have these abstractions presented as impersonations, that is, as
clothed with human attributes of life, and with functions pointing to
flesh. Let us call them, therefore, _Our Ladies of Sorrow_. I know them
thoroughly, and have walked in all their kingdoms. Three sisters they
are, of one mysterious household; and their paths are wide apart; but of
their dominion there is no end. Them I saw often conversing with Levana,
and sometimes about myself. Do they talk, then? Oh, no! Mighty phantoms
like these disdain the infirmities of language. They may utter voices
through the organs of man when they dwell in human hearts, but amongst
themselves is no voice nor sound--eternal silence reigns in _their_
kingdoms. _They_ spoke not as they talked with Levana. _They_ whispered
not. _They_ sang not. Though oftentimes methought they _might_ have
sung; for I upon earth had heard their mysteries oftentimes deciphered
by harp and timbrel, by dulcimer and organ. Like God, whose servants
they are, they utter their pleasure, not by sounds that perish, or by
words that go astray, but by signs in heaven--by changes on earth--by
pulses in secret rivers--heraldries painted on darkness--and
hieroglyphics written on the tablets of the brain. _They_ wheeled in
mazes; _I_ spelled the steps. _They_ telegraphed from afar; _I_ read the
signals. _They_ conspired together; and on the mirrors of darkness _my_
eye traced the plots. _Theirs_ were the symbols,--_mine_ are the words.

What is it the sisters are? What is it that they do? Let me describe
their form, and their presence; if form it were that still fluctuated in
its outline; or presence it were that for ever advanced to the front, or
for ever receded amongst shades.

The eldest of the three is named _Mater Lachrymarum_, Our Lady of Tears.
She it is that night and day raves and moans, calling for vanished
faces. She stood in Rama, when a voice was heard of lamentation--Rachel
weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted. She it was that
stood in Bethlehem on the night wh