urther:--

"Phoebus! you know
That the infinite Soul has its infinite woe,
As I ought to know, having lived cheek by jowl,
Since the day I was born, with the Infinite Soul."

But people who knew her well soon lost this unfavorable impression, and
she was almost idolized by her real friends. Mr. Emerson thus records
his first impressions of her: "She had a face and frame that would
indicate fulness and tenacity of life. . . . She was then, as always,
carefully and becomingly dressed, and of lady-like self-possession. For
the rest, her appearance had nothing pre-possessing. Her extreme
plainness, a trick of incessantly opening and shutting her eyelids, the
nasal tone of her voice,--all repelled; and I said to myself, 'We shall
never get far.'" He adds: "I believe I fancied her too much interested
in personal history; and her talk was a comedy in which dramatic justice
was done to everybody's foibles. I remember she made me laugh more than
I liked." But, "soon her wit had effaced the impression of her personal
unattractiveness, and the eyes, which were so plain at first, swam with
fun and drolleries and the very tides of joy and superabundant life,"
and he saw "that her satire was only the pastime and necessity of her
talent;" and as he came to know her better, "her plane of character rose
constantly in my estimation, disclosing many moods and powers in
successive platforms or terraces, each above each." All superior women
were drawn to her at once, and even those noted only for beauty or
social talent vied in their devotion to her. A few years later, it was
for this circle that her famous conversation classes were held in
Boston; and so great was their popularity that she continued them for
six years. These conversations were entirely unique in character, and
attracted great attention in their day. The novelty of such a departure
in the Boston of forty years ago may be imagined, and the criticism
drawn upon a woman who should inaugurate such an innovation was in some
cases very severe. In regard to these same conversations, as in other
things, the impression she made was twofold. Mrs. Howe says: "Without
the fold of her admirers stood carping, unkind critics; within were
enthusiastic and grateful friends." But as to her great eloquence and
ability, there was but one opinion. Even critics admitted that no woman
had spoken like this before. And she addressed her fine audience of
Boston's most cul