upon the boundless sea of metaphysical vagaries. Lamb being a salaried clerk engaged in the employ of the East India Company, in whose service punctuality was a requisite, was eager to hasten to his business, but was greatly at a loss how to free himself from his loquacious friend. At last a happy expedient sug gested itself, he took out his penknife, carefully cut the button from his coat which Coleridge had seized, and noiselessly slipped away, leaving him fully engrossed with his theme. At noon he returned that way to dinner, and there was Coleridge still standing in the same attitude, holding the button, and threading with unabated ardor the bewildering mazes of his subtle theme.

Better than such a habit of substituting monologue for dialogue, was the rule followed by a certain ecclesiastical dignitary who was himself a splendid talker, but who made it a point to draw people out to talk of themselves, while he with all the art of a skillful talker would become listener. To engage the attention of such a listener was a source of self-satisfaction which gave them greater pleasure than to hear his eloquence; and thus their favor was won and their friendship secured more effectively, than by all the blandishments of discourse.

That wise man, Sir Matthew Hale, laid down this excellent rule, which every young person would do well to bear in mind:

"Let your words be few, espe

cially when your betters, or strangers, or men of more

experience or understanding, are in the place; for you do yourself at once two great mischiefs; you betray and discover your own weakness and folly, and you rob yourself of that opportunity which you might otherwise have, to gain knowledge, wisdom and experience by hearing those that you silence by your im pertinent talking."

An eminent clergyman once administered this wellmerited rebuke to a young lady, who had absorbed the entire time of the company by her small talk: "Madam, before you withdraw, I have one piece of advice to give you; and that is, when you go into company again, after you have talked half an hour without intermission, I recommend it to you to stop awhile, and see if any other of the company has anything to say.' But there are a few persons of such rare learning and ability that one can well afford, when in their company, to be only a listener. Such an one was our gifted countrywoman, Margaret Fuller D' Ossoli, whose sad end will ever awaken a sympathetic interest in her career. We quote this description of her power and genius, given by a brilliant journalist: "What a wonderful improvisatrice was she! How all knowledge appeared to be hers, and all the variations of human thought, and all the unreckoned opulence of language! Something was there of the queenly and tyrannic in her social sway; something of monopoly in her monologue: but who was not content to listen and to learn? Only the weak and the witless signified

their impatience in that presence! Some said that it was lecturing, and some that it was speech making; this one hinted at vanity, and the other at an ungracious engrossment of the time; but after all was over, however silent we might have been, we seemed to have been asking all the while, and she only gra ciously answering."

The benefits of well-directed conversation, who can estimate? There is a Chinese proverb that "a single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten years' study with books." While this may be an Oriental exaggeration of statement, for no social discourse can take the place of a judicious study of books, yet it is nevertheless true, that nothing sharpens our intellects, and gives us the facility to use our mental resources, more than the contact of mind with mind.

But how comparatively few good talkers there are, and how lightly is the art esteemed. And yet, will it not always be true that "Words fitly spoken are like apples of gold in pictures of silver"?

CONSOLATION FOR THE DULL.

A

CELEBRATED philosopher used to say: "The favors of fortune are like steep rocks; only eagles and creeping things mount to the summit." The first, with daring pinions, mount to the heights with a few vigorous wing-strokes, but they only reach it after all; and the slow creeping things do as much; and although their way is infinitely more tiresome, yet the same goal is gained at last.

There are few who do not at some time come to the deliberate conclusion that they are hopelessly dull. Perhaps, away back in the memories of school life, they have a distinct remembrance of how, with swimming eyes and choking throat, they were mortified because they were not able to comprehend their lessons, while their seat-mate with glib tongue could rattle it off as if it were a holiday pastime. And, later in life, how often they look back and see in numberless instances the blunders they have made, and the mishaps they brought on themselves, because they had not the acute perceptions, and the intuitive sharpness of their more fortunate neighbors. And yet, in the great harvest of life, the substantial successes are oftenest reaped, not by those whose early precociousness gave promise of

wonderful powers in maturity, but rather by those who were looked upon as dull and stupid; but who made up by persistent application, what they lacked in keenness of perception and readiness of comprehension.

Lord Campbell, who became Chief Justice and Lord Chancellor of England, and amassed a large fortune, began life as a drudge in a printing office. A vigorous constitution and sound health was his capital in starting in the world, and these, with constant labor and unflagging energy, brought him up, step by step, from the drudgery of the printing office to the magnificent position of a counselor of royalty and a peer among peers.

A close observer thus gives his impressions on this subject: "My own personal observation bears me out in saying, that persons of moderate mental calibre and medium capacity are most likely to live long, healthfully, happily and successfully, whether as to making a comfortable livelihood, or having a solid influence in society."

Old Roger Ascham, who became famous as the tutor of the unfortunate Lady Jane Grey, thus quaintly says: "In wood and stone, not the softest, but hardest, be always aptest for portraiture; both fairest for pleasure, and most durable for profit. Hard wits be

hard to receive, but sure to keep; painful without weari ness, heedful without wavering, constant without new fangleness; bearing heavy things, though not lightly, yet willingly; entering hard things, though not easily, yet deeply; and so come to that perfectness of learning