The old Anaximenes, seeking, I suppose, for a source sufficiently diffusive, said, that Mind must be in the air, which, when all men breathed, they were filled with one intelligence.  And when men have larger measures of reason, as AEsop, Cervantes, Franklin, Scott, they gain in universality, or are no longer confined to a few associates, but are good company for all persons,—­philosophers, women, men of fashion, tradesmen, and servants.  Indeed, an older philosopher than Anaximenes, namely, language itself, had taught to distinguish superior or purer sense as common sense.

Margaret had, with certain limitations, or, must we say, strictures, these larger lungs, inhaling this universal element, and could speak to Jew and Greek, free and bond, to each in his own tongue.  The Concord stage-coachman distinguished her by his respect, and the chambermaid was pretty sure to confide to her, on the second day, her homely romance.

I regret that it is not in my power to give any true report of Margaret’s conversation.  She soon became an established friend and frequent inmate of our house, and continued, thenceforward, for years, to come, once in three or four months, to spend a week or a fortnight with us.  She adopted all the people and all the interests she found here.  Your people shall be my people, and yonder darling boy I shall cherish as my own.  Her ready sympathies endeared her to my wife and my mother, each of whom highly esteemed her good sense and sincerity.  She suited each, and all.  Yet, she was not a person to be suspected of complaisance, and her attachments, one might say, were chemical.

She had so many tasks of her own, that she was a very easy guest to entertain, as she could be left to herself, day after day, without apology.  According to our usual habit, we seldom met in the forenoon.  After dinner, we read something together, or walked, or rode.  In the evening, she came to the library, and many and many a conversation was there held, whose details, if they could be preserved, would justify all encomiums.  They interested me in every manner;—­talent, memory, wit, stern introspection, poetic play, religion, the finest personal feeling, the aspects of the future, each followed each in full activity, and left me, I remember, enriched and sometimes astonished by the gifts of my guest.  Her topics were numerous, but the cardinal points of poetry, love, and religion, were never far off.  She was a student of art, and, though untravelled, knew, much better than most persons who had been abroad, the conventional reputation of each of the masters.  She was familiar with all the field of elegant criticism in literature.  Among the problems of the day, these two attracted her chiefly, Mythology and Demonology; then, also, French Socialism, especially as it concerned woman; the whole prolific family of reforms, and, of course, the genius and career of each remarkable person.