rst realized conceptions."

Early in her New York residence must also have occurred that rather
mysterious love affair with the young Hebrew, Mr. Nathan, who seems
first to have charmed her with his music and then with his heart.
After nearly sixty years, the letters which she wrote him, full of
consuming fire, have at last seen the light. From a passage in one of
them, it would seem that marriage was not contemplated by either
party, that in theory at least they took no thought of the morrow, the
bliss of the moment being held sufficient. Evidently there was no
engagement, but no one can doubt that on her part there was love. Of
course in this changing world, no such relations can be maintained for
ever, and in the end there will be an awakening, and then pain.

In 1846, Margaret realized her life-dream and went to Europe. Destined
to a life of adventure, she was accidently separated from her party,
and spent a perilous night on Ben Lomond, without a particle of
shelter, in a drenching rain, a thrilling account of which she has
written. She visited Carlyle and, for a wonder, he let her take a
share in the conversation. To Mr. Emerson he wrote, Margaret "is very
narrow sometimes, but she is truly high."

On her way to Italy, the goal of her ambition, she visited George Sand
and they had such a meeting as two women of genius might. She sailed
from Genoa for Naples in February, 1847, and arrived in Rome in May
following. There is much to interest a reader in her Italian life, but
the one thing which cannot be omitted is the story of her marriage to
the Marquis Ossoli. Soon after her arrival in Rome, on a visit to St.
Peter's, Margaret became separated from her friends, whom she did not
again discover at the place appointed for meeting. A gentleman seeing
her distress, offered to get her a carriage and, not finding one,
walked home with her. This was the young Marquis Ossoli, and thus
fortuitously the acquaintance began, which was continued by occasional
meetings. The summer Margaret spent in the north of Italy, and when
she returned to Rome, she took modest apartments in which she received
her friends every Monday evening, and the Marquis came very regularly.

It was not long however before he confessed his love for her and asked
her hand in marriage. He was gently rejected, being told that he ought
to marry a younger woman, and that she would be his friend but not
his wife. He however persisted, at length won her cons