oyer. Mr. Chambers said he
trusted they should never look on publishing _chiefly_ as _business_,
or a lucrative and respectable employment, but as the means of mental
and moral benefit to their countrymen. To one so wearied and disgusted
as I have been by vulgar and base avowals on such subjects, it was
very refreshing to hear this from the lips of a successful publisher.

Dr. Combe spoke with high praise of Mr. Hurlbart's book, "Human Rights
and their Political Guaranties," which was published at the Tribune
office. He observed that it was the work of a real thinker, and
extremely well written. It is to be republished here. Dr. Combe said
that it must make its way slowly, as it could interest those only who
were willing to read thoughtfully; but its success was sure at last.

He also spoke with, great interest and respect of Mrs. Farnham,
of whose character and the influence she has exerted on the female
prisoners at Sing Sing he had heard some account.

A person of a quite different character and celebrity is De Quincey,
the English Opium-Eater, and who lately has delighted us again with
the papers in Blackwood headed "Suspiria de Profundis." I had the
satisfaction, not easily attainable now, of seeing him for some hours,
and in the mood of conversation. As one belonging to the Wordsworth,
and Coleridge constellation, (he too is now seventy-six years of age,)
the thoughts and knowledge of Mr. De Quincey lie in the past; and
oftentimes he spoke of matters now become trite to one of a later
culture. But to all that fell from his lips, his eloquence, subtile
and forcible as the wind, full and gently falling as the evening dew,
lent a peculiar charm. He is an admirable narrator, not rapid, but
gliding along like a rivulet through a green meadow, giving and taking
a thousand little beauties not absolutely required to give his story
due relief, but each, in itself, a separate boon.

I admired, too, his urbanity, so opposite to the rapid, slang,
Vivian-Greyish style current in the literary conversation of the
day. "Sixty years since," men had time to do things better and more
gracefully than now.

With Dr. Chalmers we passed a couple of hours. He is old now, but
still full of vigor and fire. We had an opportunity of hearing a
fine burst of indignant eloquence from him. "I shall blush to my very
bones," said he, "if the _Chaarrch_"--(sound these two _rr_'s with
as much burr as possible and you will get at an idea of his