The Portland daily press., 1866-11-16

they would injure like any other missile. But
the rarity of their falling makes them practi-
cally harmless. More than ALL the aeroites
do not come down with the grand star-showers.
The meteors are so intensely heated as to be
entirely liquifed, and thus do not contain the
solid substance of which the aerolites are COM
posed.
Sean IngeIOw and Miss CObbe.
Miss Louisa M. Alcott is writing "Glimpses
of Eminent Persons for the Independent
We copy below what she says of two female
authors, well known on this side of the Allan
tic:
JEAN INGELow.
"Will you come and call on Jean Ingelow?"
said my hostess, one fine day. OF course l
would; so away we went along shady lane,
with the old oaks of Holland Park on one
side and the ivy-colored walls of Aubury House
on the other; for, though part of London,
Noting Hill is rich in gardens, lawns and
parks, such as one sees only in England. Our
way led us by Kensington Palace, the residen-
ces of Addison, the Duke of Argyle, Macaulay,
and, better than all the rest to me, the house of
Thackeray. A low, long brick house, covered
with ivy to the chimney top; sunny bit of
lawn in front, trees and flowers all about and,
though no longer haunted by the genial pres
ence of its former master, this unpretending
place is to many eyes more attractive than any
palace in the land looked long and lovingly
at it, feeling strong desire to enter its hospi-
tably open door, recalling with ever fresh de-
Light the evening spent in listening to the lee
ture on Swift, long ago in America, and expe-
riencing again the sense of heavy loss which
came to me with the tidings that the novelist
whom most loved and admired would never
write again. Leaving my tribute of affection
and respect in q look, smile, and sigh, l
gathered leaf of ivy as relic, and went on
my way.
Coming at last to quiet street, where all
the houses were gay with window boxes full OF
flowers, we reached Miss Ingelow's. In the
drawing room we found the mother of the po-
eteSs, truly beautiful old lady, in widows cap
and gown, with the sweetest, serenest face I
ever saw. Two daughters sat with her. both
older thanI had -fancied them to be, but both
very attractive women Eliza looked as if she
wrote the poetry, Jean the prose,-for the for
mer wore cIrls, had a delicate face, fine eyes,
and that Undesirable something which sug-
gests genius; the latter was plain, rather stout,
hair touched with gray, shy, yet cordial man.
ners, aud clear, straightforward glance,
which l liked so much that forgave her on
| the spot for writing those dull stories.
Gerald Massey was with them, dapper lit
| tie man, with large, fine head, and very I'M
English manners. Being oppressed with "the
| mountainous me" he rather bored the compa-
ny with "my poems, my plans, and my pub
lishers," till Miss Eliza politely devoted herself
| to him, leaving my friend to chat with the love-
| ly old lady, and myself with Jean. Both be-
| ing bashfnl, and both laboring under the delu-
| sion that it was proper to allude to each others
| works, we tried to exchange few compI-
ments, blushed, laughed, and wisely took
refuge in safer subject. Jean had been
| abroad; SO we pleasantly compared notes, and
I enjoyed the sound of her peculiarly musical
voice, in which seemed to hear the breezy
rythm of some of her charming songs. The
| ice which surrounds every English man and
woman was beginning to melt, when Massey
| ~ hot fNfI
books in America. As really had not the re-
hottest idea said so; whereat he looked blank,
and tell upon Longfellow, who seems to be the
| only one of our poets whom the English know
or care much about The conversation became
general, and soon after, it was necessary to
leave, lest the safety of the nation should be
| endangered by overstepping the fixed limits OF
| q morning call
Later, 1 learned that Miss Ingelow was ex-
| tremely conservative, and was very indignant
| when a petition for woman's right to vote was
offered for her signature. A rampant radical
told me this, and shook her handsome head pa
thetically oyer jeans narrown9ss; but when
heard that once week several poor souls din
ed comfortably in the pleasant home of the po-
etess, lorgave her conservatism, and regret
ted that an unconquerabe aversion TO dinner
| parties made me decline her invitation.
MISS coBBE.
As sat porting over Gustave Dore's illustra-
| tions of Dante one morning, the door suddenly
opened, and in rolled an immensely stout lady,
with skirts killed up cane in her hand, a fly
away green bonnet on her head, and a loud
| laugh issuing from her lips, as she cast herself
upon sofa, exclaiming breathlessly,
my dear creature, if We love me, glass of
sherry"
The wine being ordered, was called from
my nook, and introduced to Miss Cobbe L
had imagined the author of "Intuitive Morals
to be serious, severe lady, of the "Cornelia
BIiInlDeT school, and was much surprised to
see this merry, witty, Falstaffan parsonage
For half an hour she entertained us with all
manner of droll sayings, as full of sense as of
humor, one minute talking earnestly and
gravely of the suffrage question, which lust
then absorbed the circle in which found my
self the next criticisng an amateur poem in
way that convulsed her hearers, and in the
middle OF 1t jumping up to admire picture, or
trot about the room, enthusiastically applaud
ing some welcome bit of news about Our pc
tition."
CHEEKY, sensible, kindly and keen she SEEM
ed; and when she went away, talking hard till
out of the gate, and vanishing with a hearty
laugh, ii was as if a great sunbeam had left
the room, SO genial and friendly was the i'm
preston she made saw her several times
afterward, and always found her the same.
Wherever she was people gathered a. out her
as if she were social fire, and every one seem
ed to find warmth and pleasure in the attract
i've circle which surrounded her. 1t was truly
delightful to see a woman SO useful, happy,
wise and beloved; and it confirmed still more
my belief that single women are a valuable
and honorable portion of the human race, in
spite of the sneers over "old maids" and lamen-
tations over their unhappy lot