him, him that spoke to him, and listened at the same keyhole with himself, cheek by jowl with him.
Not only must men talk, but for the most part must talk about talk; and scholars even about books, or dead and buried talk. Some times my friend expects a few periods from me; and is he exorbitant? He thinks he has delivered his opinions, and now it is my turn,—but I made no bargain. He thinks he has said a good thing; but I don't see the difference; he looks just as he did before. Well, if he has, it is no loss, I suppose,—he has plenty more.
Then I have seen very near and intimate, very old friends, introduced by very old strangers, with liberty given to talk,—for they did not happen to be present at each other's christening. The stranger, who knows only the countersign, says, "Jonas"—"Eldrad," giving those names which will make a title good in a court of law. (We may presume that God does not know the Christian names of men.) Then Jonas, like a ready soldier, makes a remark,—a benediction on the weather, it may be; and Eldrad swiftly re-
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