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112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
She was, and is still, one of the few friends whom ‘God
has given me, and to whom I can say: “ Go,” and she
goes ; “come,” and she comes ; “do this,” and she does it.
T felt that it was only through the ennobling of my own
being that I had gained this power over her, and I rose
accordingly still more in my own estimation. ‘To describe
all my own feelings would be impossible. ‘There is some-
thing so gigantic and so full of the infinite in every deep
feeling which fills my soul, that words cannot express it.
A medical treatment, which I prescribed for myself during
this time, contributed essentially to restore the equilibrium
of my whole being, and to make me find some comfort in
myself. I bathed frequently in lukewarm water, which
had an inexpressibly beneficial effect upon me; and I was
repeatedly bled. ‘This drew from my poor head the quan-
tity of blood which used to rush into it, and which caused
all my uneasiness. At last I applied a seton to each arm.
They made the eruption in my face disappear, and drew
out of my body the humors which had accumulated therein
for years. My complexion became clear, and I became
bodily like one new-born.
During the last winter which I spent alone in the coun-
try, I wrote the first volume of the “Sketches of Every-
day Life.” It afforded me pleasure; but I felt, while try-
ing to produce something as an authoress, how very chaotic
was my whole world of imagination, and I had no idea that
within me could lie any talent in that way. The chief
motive for having my little book printed, was the hope of
getting a little money to assist the poor in the country.
When my brother August wrote to me from Upsala that
Mr. Palmblad, the publisher, was willing to pay for it one
hundred rix dollars, my sisters and I danced with delight.
I now accompanied Agatha to town to spend the winter
there. I had determined to go nowhere, and obtained at
last perniission, althaugh with infinite difficulty, to live
quietly.
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