CHAPTER LXII.

The manuscript now reverts to another, and a much more modern period, and

speaks of an individual, surely not less entitled both to admiration and

esteem, than any who have preceded.

When the name of J⸺ B⸺ is introduced, we do not apprehend that our friend

will incur the suspicion of being too lavish in his commendation, or will

be censured for being too circumstantial in his communication.

Unfortunately, there exist too few sources of intelligence. There is

but little more to detail, than that at a very early period, and long

before she was a candidate for literary fame and distinction, our

Sexagenarian met her familiarly at the house of her very excellent,

amiable, and accomplished brother, Dr. B.; as well as at other social

places of intercourse, where literary people were made welcome. The

great characteristic by which she was pre-eminently distinguished, was

an unaffected diffidence and modest reserve; not at all prominent in

conversation, always desirous of information, never making display of the

powers she herself possessed, but courteously and agreeably inviting the

unfolding of those sources of instruction, which she knew appertained to

others.

It does not appear that the high reputation she has deservedly acquired,

has in this particular at all diminished her claims to respect and

esteem. She bears her faculties meekly; or at least she did, when he who

writes had the opportunity of duly appreciating her estimable qualities.

Her talents are before the public; and if this work were intended as an

arena for the display of critical acumen, the opportunity would readily

be embraced, of paying the tribute of esteem which is most unaffectedly

felt, and in this place sincerely acknowledged. But we must be satisfied

with the declaration, that the short and passing acquaintance with J⸺ B⸺,

was a circumstance upon which the Sexagenarian has, in his manuscript

notices, expressed himself with particular earnestness of satisfaction.

Les passions les plus violentes nous laissent quelquefois du

relache, mais la vanité nous agite toujours.

The sexagenarian; or, the recollections of a literary life (Volume 1 of 2) · 第 41 / 45 章