And then those true sad pale lines of Martineau’s (‘Child’s Thought’) about youth’s eagerness for truth, sometimes productive of dark agonies of doubt and loneliness drearier than death,—leaving the soul exposed upon the field of conflict without a God to strive for or a weapon for the fight. Yesterday his ‘Immortality’ helped me again to seize that idea,— apprehend, ‘hang on to’ (Trench). That the negative testimony was stronger for than against—far harder to realize soul extinct than immortal,—that instinct for immortality grows stronger in sorrow, bereavements and on confines of death,—more likely teachers than the dust and glare of Vanity Fair. That the strange ‘caprice of death’ in selection, etc., inexplicable except in belief of future to which this is the ante-chamber. ‘Simply migrations of mind.’” Of course the outward stagnation of life, the want of a definite object and purpose, renewed the old regrets for the friendship by means of which “we might have done anything together, we two.” “Feb. 3rd. 4 p.m. ‘Are not the letters coming? The sun has almost set.’ I seem to have two such abiding ideas (presentiments?—hopes?) 1st. That somehow, somewhen the old door must be reopened,—light in the eventide,... 2nd. That some medical way will open—perhaps in Scotland,—and at length some one take pity on me and really teach me and push me. Oh, dear, how I wish I had anyone with whom I could really take counsel and make common cause. Well, I believe I am learning silence and patience at least somewhat, but how ‘bleak and bare’! Everything so grey and so dim. Feb. 4th. In the night I woke and found M.’s head was ‘dreadful.’ So I laid one hand on her forehead and one on her hand and willed and willed the pain away,—till she slept quietly. Curious how weary and achy that arm was even next morning,—how ‘washed out’ I was! She says,—‘How do you explain it?’ ‘Nohow.’” CHAPTER II AT THE GATES OF THE CITADEL In any case S. J.-B. was not to wait long for those “with whom she could take counsel.” In the autumn of 1867 Mr. Alexander Macmillan appears to have discussed with her the projected publication of a volume of essays on questions relating to modern women, and in January 1869 he writes in answer to an enquiry from her: “DEAR MADAM, Mrs. Butler, 280 South Hill Park Road, Liverpool, is the address. There has been nothing done about the proposed volume yet. But I have by no means abandoned the hope of having it done, and shall not be sorry if you allude to it in writing to Mrs. Butler.