“I remember noting at this time a trait which continued to be a prominent one through life,—­I mean, a passionate love for the beautiful, which comprehended all the kingdoms of nature and art.  I have never known one who seemed to derive such satisfaction from the contemplation of lovely forms.

“Her intercourse with girls of her own age and standing was frank and excellent.  Personal attractions, and the homage which they received, awakened in her no jealousy.  She envied not their success, though vividly aware of the worth of beauty, and inclined to exaggerate her own deficiencies in that kind.  On the contrary, she loved to draw these fair girls to herself, and to make them her guests, and was never so happy as when surrounded, in company, with such a bevy.  This attraction was mutual, as, according to Goethe, every attraction is.  Where she felt an interest, she awakened an interest.  Without flattery or art, by the truth and nobleness of her nature, she won the confidence, and made herself the friend and intimate, of a large number of young ladies,—­the belles of their day,—­with most of whom she remained in correspondence during the greater part of her life.

“In our evening re-unions she was always conspicuous by the brilliancy of her wit, which needed but little provocation to break forth in exuberant sallies, that drew around her a knot of listeners, and made her the central attraction of the hour.  Rarely did she enter a company in which she was not a prominent object.

“I have spoken of her conversational talent.  It continued to develop itself in these years, and was certainly her most decided gift.  One could form no adequate idea of her ability without hearing her converse.  She did many things well, but nothing so well as she talked.  It is the opinion of all her friends, that her writings do her very imperfect justice.  For some reason or other, she could never deliver herself in print as she did with her lips.  She required the stimulus of attentive ears, and answering eyes, to bring out all her power.  She must have her auditory about her.

“Her conversation, as it was then, I have seldom heard equalled.  It was not so much attractive as commanding.  Though remarkably fluent and select, it was neither fluency, nor choice diction, nor wit, nor sentiment, that gave it its peculiar power, but accuracy of statement, keen discrimination, and a certain weight of judgment, which contrasted strongly and charmingly with the youth and sex of the speaker.  I do not remember that the vulgar charge of talking ’like a book’ was ever fastened upon her, although, by her precision, she might seem to have incurred it.  The fact was, her speech, though finished and true as the most deliberate rhetoric of the pen, had always an air of spontaneity which made it seem the grace of the moment,—­the result of some organic provision that made finished sentences as natural to her as blundering and hesitation are to most of us.  With a little more imagination, she would have made an excellent improvisatrice.