h a
consciousness that a few civilities were now their due.

"I fear, Miss Effingham, after the elaborate _soirees_ of the
literary circles in Paris, you will find our _reunions_ of the same
sort, a little dull; and yet I flatter myself with having assembled
most of the talents of New-York on this memorable occasion, to do
honour to your friend. Are you acquainted with many of the company?"

Now, Eve had never seen nor ever heard of a single being in the room,
with the exception of Mr. Dodge and her own party, before this night,
although most of them had been so laboriously employed in puffing
each other into celebrity, for many weary years; and, as for
elaborate _soirees_, she thought she had never seen one half as
elaborate as this of Mrs. Legend's. As it would not very well do,
however, to express all this in words, she civilly desired the lady
to point out to her some of the most distinguished of the company.

"With the greatest pleasure, Miss Effingham," Mrs. Legend taking
pride in dwelling on the merits of her guests.--"This heavy, grand-
looking personage, in whose air one sees refinement and modesty at a
glance, is Captain Kant, the editor of one of our most decidedly
pious newspapers. His mind is distinguished for its intuitive
perception of all that is delicate, reserved and finished in the
intellectual world, while, in opposition to this quality, which is
almost feminine, his character is just as remarkable for its
unflinching love of truth. He was never known to publish a falsehood,
and of his foreign correspondence, in particular, he is so
exceedingly careful, that he assures me he has every word of it
written under his own eye."

"On the subject of his religious scruples," added John Effingham, "he
is so fastidiously exact, that I hear he 'says grace' over every
thing that goes _from_ his press, and 'returns thanks' for every
thing that comes _to_ it."

"You know him, Mr. Effingham, by this remark? Is he not, truly, a man
of a vocation?"

"That, indeed, he is, ma'am. He may be succinctly said to have a
newspaper mind, as he reduces every thing in nature or art to news,
and commonly imparts to it so much of his own peculiar character,
that it loses all identity with the subjects to which it originally
belonged. One scarcely knows which to admire most about this man, the
atmospheric transparency of his motives, for he is so disinterested
as seldom even to think of paying for a dinner when travelling,