a more unbiassed criticism.
The Greek mythology, instinct with the genius of a wonderful people,
afforded her the desired theme. With its help she would introduce her
pupils to a sphere of serenest contemplation, in which Religion and
Beauty had become wedded through immortal types.

Margaret was not able to do this without awakening some orthodox
suspicion. This she knew how to allay; for when one of the class
demurred at the supposition that a Christian nation could have anything
to envy in the religion of a heathen one, Margaret said that she had no
desire to go back, and believed we have the elements of a deeper
civilization; yet the Christian was in its infancy, the Greek in its
maturity, nor could she look on the expression of a great nation's
intellect as insignificant. These fables of the gods were the result of
the universal sentiments of religion, aspiration, intellectual action,
of a people whose political and aesthetic life had become immortal.

Margaret's good hopes were justified by the success of her undertaking.
The value of what she had to impart was felt by her class from the
first. It was not received in a passive and compliant manner, but with
the earnest questioning which she had wished to awaken, and which she
was so well able both to promote and to satisfy.

In the first of her conversations ten of the twenty-five persons present
took part, and this number continued to increase in later meetings. Some
of these ladies had been bred in the ways of liberal thought, some held
fast to the formal limits of the old theology. The extremes of bigotry
and scepticism were probably not unrepresented among them. From these
differences and dissidences Margaret was able to combine the elements of
a wider agreement. A common ground of interest was found in the range of
topics presented by her, and in her manner of presenting them. The
enlargement of a new sympathy was made to modify the intense and narrow
interests in which women, as a class, are apt to abide.

Margaret's journal and letters to friends give some accounts of the
first meetings. She finds her circle, from the start, devoutly
thoughtful, and feels herself, not "a paid Corinne," but a teacher and a
guide. The bright minds respond to her appeal, as half-kindled coals
glow beneath a strong and sudden breath. The present, always arid if
exclusively dwelt in, is enriched by the treasures of the past and
animated by the great hopes of the future.

Re