containing American Female writers, with whose various efforts even our own public are not so well acquainted as with those of English women. We are familiar with the exuberant names of Lætitia Elizabeth Landon and Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton; but how many ever heard of Frances Sargent Osgood, and of Anna Peyre Dinnies; both of whom, by the way, have made very pretty and graceful verses? Mrs. Hale has, nevertheless, revealed one English poetess, of the measure of whose excellence we have until now been entirely uninformed. We allude to Miss Mary-Anne Browne, who, we are told, is the daughter of the Vicar of Twickenham; and, from her verses, we should suppose that she might also be a near connection of "The Twickenham Ghost," celebrated in a modern London ballad as

"A lovely young ghost that's allowed

To go by the river Police,

Serenading about in his shroud."

At the age of fifteen, Mary-Anne published "Ada and other poems,' which were kindly received." It must have been out of sheer kindness. In "The Winter's Wreath," she twined an evergreen poem, entitled "A World without Water," (the title makes one thirsty,) which Mrs. Hale too favourably apprehends that the critic, seeking for resemblances, may call a suggestion from Byron's "Darkness." Now, as for ourselves, we should never have imagined that the darkness about the poem was Byron's. "It is certainly," continues Mrs. Hale, "equal to Campbell's Last Man.'" Well, we thank Heaven that we are philosophers; but we cannot avoid remarking that we think the fair commentator unnecessarily polite; and that, to borrow Mrs. Malaprop's expression, her comparison is altogether too odoriferous. Let us look at some of the lines which are to eclipse Mr. Campbell

"I had a dream in the dead of night,
A dream of agony;

I thought the world stood in affright
Beneath the hot and parching light
Of an unclouded sky;

I thought there had fallen no cooling rain
For months, upon the feverish plain,
And that all the springs were dry.

And I was standing on a hill
And looking all around;

I know not how it was-but still
Strength in my limbs was found;
As with a spell of threefold life
My destinies were bound.

For there was not one breath to sweep
The leaves from each perishing tree;

And there they hung dead, motionless;
They hung there day by day,

As though Death were too busy with other things
To sweep their corpses away." (!!)

From such samples of Miss Mary-Anne's poetry, as well as others which are open to the inspection of the curious, we think that the young lady ought to have an unusually beautiful face to cause one by gazing on it to forget or forgive her errors. By thus freely advancing our opinion, we do not mean to impugn Mrs. Hale's; on the contrary, we know of no one to whom we should sooner defer in matters of taste; but we think that while she intended to be scrupulously

just, her decision was given by the heart and not by the head in the case of Mary-Anne Brown versus The Nine Muses.

We turn with much pleasure from Miss Brown to the two American ladies, whose names we mentioned above as new to most readers. Mrs. Osgood possesses superior talents for poetry. Her versification is peculiarly melodious, and her thoughts float along, one after another, as easily and gracefully as a line of birds in autumn flying southward. She is the wife of a young artist of promise, and is now with her husband in London, where it will be her own fault if she is not soon very favourably appreciated. The following verses are as natural, as free from effort and affectation, and as beautiful as the motions of happy children at play :

"I found the stream-the woodland stream,
I lingered by its golden gleam,
While softly, in the luminous air,

The dream-like clouds were floating fair;
And, all serene as seraph's eye,
The waters went in beauty by.
I laid me on the pleasant green-
The graceful slope that bends between,
In one sweet, sunny nook of love,
The fir-trees of the darkling grove.
Oh! 'tis a gem, that lone retreat!
A fairy gift by Nature wrought
To lay at laughing Summer's feet-

An emerald with her bright smile fraught,
An emerald set in sapphire light

And hidden in the woods from sight!
Fair Summer hung her prize above,
And lent it light from looks of love,
And pressed it with her fondling hand,
And blessed it with her breezes bland,
Till, smiling back that radiant gaze,
The wave its fairy music plays.
And gaily from the grove are heard
The warblings of the woodland bird.
At times she weeps her softest tears,
When dim decay is near her treasure;
And then, again, in joy appears

Her fond and sunlight smile of pleasure;
While born in beauty 'neath her eyes

And wreathed around, on shrub and tree,
She sees her forest-blossoms rise,

And lists her forest-melody."

With Mrs. Anna Peyre Dinnies, there is connected a delightful bit of the romance of reality. She was a Miss Shackleford, and resided in Charleston, S. C., and became engaged in a literary correspondence with Mr. John C. Dinnies, who resided in St. Louis, Missouri. This strangely commenced correspondence lasted four years, and the result was their marriage," though they never met till one week before their nuptials. The contract was made long before, entered into solely from the sympathy and congeniality of mind and taste." "That in their estimate of each other," continues Mrs. Hale, “they have not been disappointed, we may infer from her songs; for there cannot be domestic confidence, such as these portray, unless both are happy." We have ventured to give this pleasant picture of Love and the Muse at home as a hint to our young men and maidens, that, to insure a happy marriage, higher requisites than personal beauty and bank stock are necessary. There must be intellectual charms and moral wealth to insure that sentiment which will

"Live on through each change, and love to the last."

We like all this mightily, and perfectly agree with Mrs. Hale in thinking that Mrs. Dinnies' poetry "is characterized by vigour of thought and delicate tenderness of feeling." Every selection from her poems would prove this, but the following touches our sensibilities most nearly :

I could-I think I could have brooked
E'en for a time that thou

Upon my fading face had'st looked
With less of love than now;

For then I should at least have felt
The sweet hope still my own,
To win thee back, and, whilst I dwelt
On earth, not been 'alone.'

But thus to see, from day to day,

Thy brightening eye and cheek,
And watch thy life-sands waste away,
Unnumbered, slowly, meek;

To meet thy smiles of tenderness,
And catch the feeble tone

Of kindness, ever breathed to bless,
And feel I'll be alone.'

To mark thy strength each hour decay,
And yet thy hopes grow stronger,
As, filled with heavenward trust, they say
"Earth may not claim thee longer;'
Nay, dearest, 'tis too much-this heart
Must break when thou art gone;
It must not be; we may not part;
I could not live' alone!'"

We have not specified other poetesses, because they are too generally admired to need our merd of praise. We should be glad to quote some of the very beautiful verses from Mrs. Hale's own pen, which close her volume, and to extract her admirable autobiography by which they are preceded; but we have already taken several steps beyond our limits, and are allowed by Messrs. Scatcherd and Adams only to add, that "The Ladies' Wreath" is the most valuable compilation of the kind that has been made in our country; and that every young gentleman should present it to every young lady, if but to convince her that, as a good deal of nice poetry has already been written by ladies, there is no need of her contributing to the store.

1

A Pebble against the Tide: a Sermon preached to the Second Church,
on Sunday, November 6, 1836, by its minister, Chandler Robbins.
Published by request. Boston. S. G. Simpkins. pp. 21.
The Signs of the Times: A Sermon preached Sunday, March 6, 1836,
by George Putnam, minister of the First Church in Roxbury. Print-
ed by request. Boston. Charles J. Hendee. pp. 24.

THE title of the first-named of these two valuable discourses is very happily
chosen, and in quaintness resembles those formerly adopted by the old fathers of
the church. The second-named, though with a less original and attractive title,
is
upon the same important subject ; and they are both worthy of serious perusal
and meditation. The practice of giving publicity, through the press, to sermons
like these, (not occasional, but delivered in the regular course of religious instruc-
tion,) at the request of the congregation of which the author is the spiritual
guide, cannot be too highly commended. Although the reader cannot be so deeply
impressed with the vital truths and warnings contained in such discourses, as the
hearer of them, when delivered in a sincere and fervid style of eloquence, still
much good may be effected by the simple imparting of timely admonition. A
word in season" may prevent the occurrence of a long series of calamities, and
be more precious to a man of understanding than a newly-discovered mine of
gold. "A pebble against the tide" may turn the course of the impetuous torrent
of human passion into an even and safe channel. “The Signs of the Times,"
if pointed out with a steady hand, may show to the reckless adventurer that there
is a goal, beyond which it will be dangerous for him to proceed,—a step, which
it will be as destructive for him to take, as that of a blind man who has walked,
and is walking, without staff or guide, towards the very edge of a precipice.

The aim of these two discourses is to arrest that unholy spirit of gain, which, like the raging lion of Scripture, is going about in our country seeking whom it may devour; that spirit which urges men into mad schemes and speculations, which, though sometimes attended with temporary success, are sure, sooner or later, to induce calamity and the wretchedness of destitution; a spirit which resembles its parent, the devil, in more respects than one,-tempting men to seek its aid, so that it may give them wealth and power in exchange for their everlasting souls,-taking them up into an excceding high mountain, and showing them, as it were, all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them, and saying to them, "All these things will I give ye, if you will fall down and worship me!" Alas! how few are gifted with a power like that of the Son of God, to exclaim, "Get thee hence, Satan!" How few follow so closely His holy example, as to be endowed, in seasons of temptation, with the ability to resist evil! Is it not important, then, that we should have our understandings bent to the contemplation of those dangers which surround us? Is it not important that the ministers of Christ should "cry aloud and spare not," against this destroyer of peace-this unholy spirit of gain?

We wish that the principles inculcated in these discourses could be sown with a wide hand throughout the community. Such good seed must spring up,—for the ground is not yet so stony as to defy all efforts at moral cultivation.

We give an eloquent extract from the sermon of Mr. Robbins :—

"Our country enjoys-alas! let not true wisdom have cause to say suffers unparalleled prosperity; unnumbered means for the sudden accumulation of wealth; incalculable resources, in its soil, its natural facilities, its rapid increase of population, its free institutions, to feed the spirit of an enterprising people. It offers continual opportunities, and ample room for changes in abode and occupa

tion; with thousand allurements to attempt new paths to fortune, fame, and rest. The very dust and stones of our soil are transformed into gold, in a single day, by the fast multiplying wants of a growing community, or at one touch of the speculator's mighty wand. The old, and more lengthy road to property, by the way of strict economy and patient industry, is almost deserted; while men are every where striking into new and easier avenues, along which they are rushing with infatuated zeal and most appalling haste. A cry cometh suddenly from the East, Behold the very forests are silver;' and the whole land is in commotion at the startling news. And a voice calleth from the mighty West, Come ye, and buy corn and milk without money and without toil;' and the echoes of the Alleghanies slumber not, day nor night, as they answer to the ceaseless tramp of the endless army of Emigrants.

"Thousand airy schemes---bubbles coloured by the excited fancy with rainbow hues-are hatched from busy brains, and skilfully held up before the attracted gaze of the multitude; while the ignorant are entrapped, the credulous deluded, the avaricious caught, with the false hope that that which is essentially empty can fill the coffers of them all; and that, which is uncertain as the wind, cannot fail to return them for their mite a hundred fold.

"The state of our country, with the general character of our people, invites, tempts, urges our citizens to leave their old business, and homes, and especially to desert the quiet pursuits of agriculture, and the toilsome labours of the workshop, to engage in various speculations, to venture their all upon the fluctuating tide of the stocks, and to roam the earth over in search of some Philosopher's Stone.

"And this condition of things is easily accounted for. The very flood of our prosperity, at first, took up some of our fellow-citizens, and without any previous desire or especial effort of their own, bore them on to fortune. The quiet and unambitious proprietors of soil, which formerly had been of trifling worth, by the rapid spread of the population or some sudden turn of business, became instantly the possessors of abundant wealth. Others, witnessing their rapid promotion, naturally longed to keep even pace with it; and soon began to task their ingenuity to invent and compass means of similar elevation. There is something so extremely fascinating in the gathering up a sudden harvest of gold; there is something so exciting in the dream of going to sleep a beggar, and awaking a prince; that it is hardly a matter of surprise, if a few instances of such rare good fortune in a community should turn the heads of half its members.

"Now, therefore, more than perhaps ever before, the great moving principle of society is wealth-the great struggle is for accumulation-the continual strife, who shall amass the largest fortune in the shortest time-the great danger and sin of our times, is the making haste to be rich. All wants, with a large portion of the community, seem to be swallowed up in the burning thirst for gold; and that, whose only value is that it can purchase good things for one's self and his neighbour, is itself made the great end, for whose price both one's own and his neighbour's comfort, peace, health-aye, and even virtue-are unreservedly paid. Men seem to say we read it in their countenances-we see it in their whole bearing-we hear it from Maine to Florida, wherever we go--' Let us be rich, let us be rich. We will be wretched to-day; we will be sleepless to-night, if we can but be wealthy to-morrow. We will cheerfully sacrifice all the happiness of the present, because the treasures of the future can buy every thing that 'Alas!'-doth not a deep-toned voice sometimes whisper from the awful trust within, responsive to the kind warning of the Son of God--'Alas, foolish and vain man. Who art thou, that thou shouldest so account of the future? this night thy soul may be required of thee. Who art thou, that thou canst afford to cast away one real comfort, one substantial joy, one emotion of purity, one opportunity of doing good, from to-day's blessings, for the sake of adding another grain to that heap, which thou knowest not who shall gather on the morrow! Who art thou, that thou canst ever trust to the dust of this earth for one hour's enjoyment to thine immortal soul, when the very suns and stars of the illimitable heavens, with all their untold treasures, are less than the inheritance which thou shouldest desire and mayest win! Give over, give over thy miserable seeking blind worshipper of Mammon; and provide for thyself bags that wax not old, a treasure in the Heavens that shall fail thee not.'"

we want.'

Mr. Putnam writes in a style which is less impulsive than that of Mr. Robbins, but more philosophical, and more easy of practical application. We con