versation, fly from mind to mind, and from generation to generation; and though losing in a little time the least traditionary vestige of their origin, and all possible identification with the forms of their first existence, they travel onward under the charm of a perpetuum mobile, the unpublished, invisible, anonymous benefactors of the human race. The influence which the illustrious men already mentioned, and many others whose coversational talents were of a high order, exerted in the private circle, by the brilliant corruscations of their wit, genius, and learning, is by no means a perishing one. It cannot die. Not subject to the opium of time, which temporally considereth all' books—i. e. most books—it is incorporated with living masses of mind, and acts, and will ever continue to act, with a refining and beneficent energy upon the moral and intellectual elements of the world.

But we proceed to mention other eminent individuals who excelled in the colloquial art. There was that paragon of learning, the justlycelebrated and excellent Dr. Parr, who stands among the first on the list. He resembled, not copied, his gigantic predecessor, Dr. Johnson, in the finished elegance, the promptitude and massive construction of his remarks, felicitousness of his illustrations and learned allusions, and in the poignancy and force of his sarcasm. His greatest powers,' says his accomplished biographer, even greater, often, than those exhibited in his labored compositions, were called forth by conversation.' Sir Humphrey Davy-himself a splendid instance in point-relates of Humbolt, that he was too fluent;' a very imaginable sort of supererogation, but not an entirely immaculate one, if carried to the point of gross infringement of the interlocutory rights of others. There is a 'copia verborum,' which ought to be carefully eschewed by all who would not themselves be eschewed by society.

But to return. Gibbon's conversation is said to have been unconstrained, easy, and instructive, free from ostentation of manner, and all affectation of superior learning. Dr. Robertson was most attractive in 'the moments of social ease.' The 'splended variety' of his conversation was particularly striking to strangers who enjoyed his company, and was the 'chief circumstance on which they dwelt, in enumerating his talents.' Every one has heard of the conversations of Coleridge. They partook largely of all the idiosyncrasies of that extraordinary man, and were probably as highly charged with the metaphysical brilliancies of his genius, as any of his printed works. 'His conversation at all times required attention, and the demand on the intellect of the hearer was oftentimes very great; when he got into his huge circuit,' and large illustrations, most people had lost him, and naturally enough supposed that he had lost himself.' But the philosopher of Highgate was not always obscure. His illustrations were sometimes luminously clear and powerful; and there is a point, pith, and a clear-sighted practicalness in some of his recorded table-talk' - remarks which contrast strangely with the unearthly transcendentalism, that characterized the great mass both of his written and unwritten effusions. Familiar access to such a mind could not have been any ordinary treat. It was a luxurious banquet, at which, if the guest was at a loss to call the names, or imagine the meats of some mysterious dishes, he was nevertheless regaled with a plentiful supply of others more familiar to his palate, and could not but wonder at the affluence

of his entertainer, and feel gratified with the magnificence of his preparations. Coleridge, then, may be set down without any hesitation as having possessed high conversational powers, unsurpassed by few, or any, since Johnson's time. And here, perhaps, we should turn to the question before started: whether great men are always great in the art of expressing their thoughts in the easy collocution of social intercourse. Omnes non possumus omnia, is a maxim which may throw some light on its solution. The good-natured Goldsmith was particularly distinguished for the blundering awkwardness of his conversational efforts. Probably he suffered from such close juxtaposition with his colossal guide, philosopher, and friend.' It might at first sight be supposed that as man is an imitative animal, no one could enjoy an unreserved and long-continued intimacy with so great a master of colloquial eloquence, without acquiring some inkling of the art- quite an ore rotundo use of his own vernacular. The tendency of like to beget like, cannot be denied. But that tendency may be neutralized by counteracting causes. We can find no difficulty in conceiving of sensitive and timid minds, which, in the presence of abilities so transcendantly superior, forever shooting above and around them its broad streams of intellectual light, would be overawed and paralyzed, instead of spirited on to similar feats. Such might have been the case with Goldsmith. Johnson was indeed the luminary of the privileged circle in which he revolved, dispensing the rays of knowledge and intellect in every direction around him: but then those rays were sometimes so bright as to be dazzling, and so strong as to be overpowering.

The next great man on our list, coming under the same unfortunate category, is Dryden, the princely leader of early English poetry, and an eloquent prose writer. In conversation, however, if we may believe his own words, he was decidedly minus. They are as follow: My conversation is slow and dull, my humor saturnine and reserved. In short, I am none of those who endeavor to break jests in company, or make repartees.' Corneille, La Bruyere, Descartes-all' names known to fame-swell the catalogue. Of Corneille it was said, that 'he could not even speak correctly that language in which, as a writer, he had no equal.' Of that ancient captain of metaphysicians, Descartes, it is a famous remark, that he received his intellectual coin in solid bars, and not in current coin. Addison was naturally timid, and apt to be reserved in promiscuous company; but when once excited, his conversation is reported to have been very lively and entertaining, and agreeably spiced with the easy and natural humor of his unrivalled

essays.

Without proceeding farther in the citation of either of those who have excelled, or those who have failed, in the article of conversation, we think we may venture to lay down the doctrine that this accomplishment is not by any means an innate one, given as a matter of course to every body, or necessarily accompanying the highest qualities of intel

On the contrary, the presumption is, that like almost any other good thing in man, it requires the steady application of appropriate means, as the necessary condition of its development and growth.

Cicero, in his Offices,' has not thought it derogatory from the dignity of his subject, to offer several miscellaneous remarks and directions for the benefit of those who would cultivate a talent for conversation. His

observations are not unworthy of the attention of the most enlightened mind, and cannot but benefit those whose thoughts have seldom or never been directed to this subject, as a matter of reflection and forethought, and who may perhaps, at first, be disposed to view all advice on so simple and every-day an affair as conversation, as a positive superfluity, if not a downright absurdity. With such, the very respectable authority of the great Roman orator and philosopher may not be without its due influence.

After distinguishing between conversation, and public orations, debates, etc., and mentioning the peculiar occasions or scenes of each, he adds, that there are rhetorical precepts for the former, but none for the latter of these exercises — admitting at the same time that he is not sure that there can be any drawn up for the latter—that is, conversation. This doubt, however, is probably not levelled at the possibility or propriety of the thing itself, but only, in an inquiring tone, at the particular manner in which it should be accomplished. But he proceeds to remark: Were there persons desirous of receiving rules to enable them to excel in conversation, instructors would not be wanting and farther, that whatever precepts the rhetoricians give concerning words and sentences, are applicable also to that art. We will merely append here a nearly literal translation of two or three of his practical hints - we may call them canons for conversation. That their obviousness should procure for them the go-by of some, would not be surprising. That, however, they find their application in those everyday scenes of human existence, where duty, if well performed, is most pleasing if neglected, most disagreeable where minute things frequently turn the scale of happiness or misery is reason enough for securing for them a kind reception. We should take particular notice of the nature of the subject upon which we are about to converse, and studiously adapt our manner accordingly: a grave subject, demanding gravity-a jocose, liveliness of manner. Care should also be taken that our conversation does not indicate some defect in our own characters; a thing which is most of all likely to occur, when we show a disposition to speak harshly, contemptuously, or in detracting and ridiculing terms, of the absent. With due consideration for the persons present, we should observe up to what point the conversation is agreeable, and when it ceases to be so; (for we are not all pleased with the same things, either on every occasion, or in a similar way;) and as there was reason in beginning, so let there be moderation in ending it. It is another highly important duty, that we appear both sincerely to reverence, and warmly to respect, those with whom we are conversing.' Rules that show so much genuine regard for human nature, and human feelings, as these, would have done honor to any Christian author, and proclaim, more than labored arguments, the amiableness and worth of the mind from which they emanated.

How many egregious errors in society result from the neglect of these simple principles ! - practical errors, by which the rights and feelings of others are invaded, the pleasures of refined intercourse lessened, and our own acquirements and abilities made to appear to disadvantage in the sight of those whose good opinion and respect it may be at once our interest and our ambition to secure. It might be easy to produce quite an extended classification of individuals, according

to the prominent imperfections of the conversational habits of each. We will attempt, however, to characterize but a few, and that but briefly. There is the pompous genus, that speak great swelling words,' and look, or strive to look, wondrous wise.' They commonly affect to be deep-yea, very deep. Having, perhaps, sonorous and grandiloquent voices, they are very careful to take the full benefit of them. Their thoughts, expressed in a deliberate and oracular manner, are ushered into existence with a parade and ceremony, that form quite a contrast with the intrinsic mediocrity of their character. But with many persons of defective visions, and a little extra credulity, the artifice succeeds, and begets in their minds a becoming degree of admiration and reverence for such favored sons of wisdom. Another class is, the dogmatic and positive. These expect all they say to be meekly received, and unhesitatingly believed. There are also the metaphysical, forever splitting hairs; the inquisitive, always asking questions, the hobbied, forever boring you with some favorite theory; the bunglers, who have a passion for floundering through half-finished sentences; the scandal, or news-monger, ever ready to undo his pack, and sell at wholesale and retail, in lots to suit purchasers; the hesitating, who can never decide to say what they want to say; the vain and praiseseeking, who say and do every thing for effect. But we forbear. Faults are mentioned, only that they may be faults no more.

W. H.

THE VICTIMS OF CONSUMPTION.

SKETCHED FROM REAL LIFE: BY THE AUTHOR OF AMERICAN SOCIETY.'

AFTER reading an article on Pulmonary Consumption, in a late number of the Knickerbocker, my mind reverted to the many victims I had seen, during even a short pilgrimage along the pathway of life. Strange and sad disease! How melancholy is it to mark thy slow yet sure advances to know that thou wilt throw coil after coil around thy captive, until thou hast drawn her into the cold and clasping arms of Death to see that she alone is unconscious of thy thraldom, and reaches forth her taper fingers to gather the flowers of love and hope, that others are placing in their bosoms, or twining around their brows. But these blossom not for her; the devotion of the lover the tenderness of the husband - the soft caresses of infantile love - she must not dream of these for the grave has claimed her as its own!

Poor Caroline B! Hers was a sad and an early fate. She passed away like the morning cloud, before the blush of life's dawn had faded from her heart. Timid and gentle as a fawn, she was one of those who seem as if they can only live in the atmosphere of affection. She withered and shrank from the least breath of unkindness; and so great was her sensitiveness, that it became necessary to remove her from the care of an instructress who followed a stern and rigid system of government, as the fear with which she inspired her became a disease, that was preying on her spirits and her health.

At this time, we were school-mates; and years passed ere I saw her again. But I heard her history from one who knew her well. She became a lovely woman —a creature of smiles and tears of softness and sensibility. With strangers, she was timid and reserved, but when with those who loved her, she had all the caressing fondness, the sportiveness and simplicity, of a child. She could not have been happy without something to love; her heart was full of tenderness - full to overflowing. Seldom were mother and sisters loved as she loved hers; and when her young affections were sought by one who had given her his heart, she yielded them up, in all their fullness. She became devoted to him. The tendrils of her love twined so closely around him, that not only her happiness, but even her life, was dependent on his welfare and his existence.

He was worthy of her, and loved her as man seldom loves. He was yet in the dew of his youth,' with a heart full of virtuous impulses, and untainted principles for he had not entered into the dissipations of the world. He was actively engaged in a business that secured a competence, which, with the simplicity of their tastes, would have been affluence to them. The time of their union drew near, and he furnished a home to which he was shortly to take his Caroline as his bride the wife of his bosom. But sickness came over him—a malignant fever, so violent and dangerous, that his physician gave no hope of recovery. Where was his betrothed? His family had sent for her, at his request; but before she could reach the house, he was raving in a delirium, and knew her not. She hung over him in all the distraction of hope and fear; and who can imagine the wild agony that