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Her parents were in straitened circumstances, and it was necessary, from an early age, that much of her time should be devoted to domestic employments: for these she had no inclination, but she. performed them with that alacrity which always accompanies good will; and, when her work was done, retired to enjoy those intellectual and imaginative pursuits in which her whole heart was engaged. This predilection for studious retirement she is said to have manifested at the early age of four years. Reports, and even recollections of this kind, are to be received, the one with some distrust, the other with some allowance; but when that allowance is made, the genius of this child still appears to have been as precocious as it was extraordinary. Instead of playing with her schoolmates, she generally got to some secluded place, with her little books, and with pen, ink, and paper; and the consumption which she made of paper was such as to excite the curiosity of her parents, from whom she kept secret the use to which she applied it. If any one came upon her retirement, she would conceal or hastily destroy what she was employed upon; and, instead of satisfying the enquiries of her father and mother, replied to them only by tears. The mother, at length, when searching for something in a dark and unfrequented closet, found a considerable number of little books, made of this writing-paper, and filled with rude drawings, and with strange and apparently illegible characters, which, however, were at once seen to be the child's work. Upon closer inspection, the characters were found to consist of the printed alphabet; some of the letters being formed backwards, some sideways, and there being no spaces between the words. These writings were decyphered, not without much difficulty; and it then appeared that they consisted of regular VOL. XLI. NO. LXXXII. U verses, verses, generally in explanation of a rude drawing, sketched on the opposite page. When she found that her treasures had been discovered, she was greatly distressed, and could not be pacified till they were restored; and as soon as they were in her possession, she took the first opportunity of secretly burning them. For it had not been in fear of discouragement or prohibition from her parents that she had concealed her childish compositions; but because there is a sensitiveness in true genius which shrinks at first, as if instinctively, from exposure. Where there is no indication of this intellectual modesty, there is but too much reason for apprehending that the moral sense to which it is akin, is wantng also. These books having thus been destroyed, the earliest remaining specimen of her verse is an epitaph, composed in her ninth year, upon an unfledged robin, killed in the attempt at rearing it. The editor has not thought proper to insert it: such things are invaluable, as relics, to those who knew and loved the departed; but, from public curiosity it is always better that they should be withheld. When she was eleven years of age, her father took her to see the decorations of a room in which Washington's birthday was to be celebrated. Neither the novelty nor the gaiety of what she saw attracted her attention; she thought of Washington alone, whose life she had read, and for whom she entertained the proper feelings of an American; and as soon as she returned home, she took paper, sketched a funeral urn, and wrote under it a few stanzas, which were shown to her friends. Common as the talent of versifying is, any early manifestation of it will always be regarded as extraordinary by those who possess it not themselves; and these verses, though no otherwise remarkable, were deemed so surprising for a child of her age, that an aunt of hers could not believe they were original, and hinted that they might have been copied. The child wept at this suspicion, as if her heart would break; but as soon as she recovered from that fit of indignant grief, she indited a remonstrance to her aunt, in verse, which put an end to such incredulity. Proud as her parents were of so hopeful a child, they never attempted to impede her in her endeavours to improve herself; and all the time that could be spared from her indispensable domestic avocations was given to reading. We are told that, before she was twelve years of age, she had read most of the standard English poetsa vague term, excluding, no doubt, much that is of real worth, and including more that is worth little or nothing, and yet implying a wholesome course of reading for such a mind. Much history she had also read, both sacred and profane; the whole of Shakspeare's, Kotzebue's, and Gold smith's smith's dramatic works;' (oddly consorted names!) and many of the popular novels and romances of the day:' of the latter, she threw aside at once those which at first sight appeared worthless. As for what is called 'directing the taste' of youthful genius, this is so much more likely (we had almost said so sure) to be injurious rather than useful, that in a case like this it is fortunate when an ardent mind is left to itself, and allowed, like the bee, to suck honey from weeds and flowers indiscriminately. The vigorous mind, like the healthy stomach, can digest and assimilate coarse food. This girl is said to have observed every thing: 'frequently she has been known to watch the storm, and the retiring clouds, and the rainbow, and the setting sun, for hours.' An English reader is not prepared to hear of distress arising from straitened circumstances in America-the land of promise, where there is room enough for all, and employment for every body. Yet even in that new country, man, it appears, is born not only to those ills which flesh is heir to, but to those which are entailed upon him by the institutions of society. Lucretia's mother was confined by illness to her room and bed for many months; and this child, then about twelve years old, instead of profiting under her mother's care, had in a certain degree to supply her place in the business of the family, and to attend, which she did dutifully and devotedly, to her sick bed. At this time, a gentleman who had heard much of her verses, and expressed a wish to see some of them, was so much gratified on perusing them, that he sent her a complimentary note, enclosing a bank-bill for twenty dollars. The girl's first joyful thought was that she had now the means, which she had so often longed for, of increasing her little stock of books; but, looking towards the sick bed; tears came in her eyes, and she instantly put the bill into her father's hands, saying, 'Take it, father; it will buy many comforts for mother; I can do without the books,' To relate this anecdote as an extraordinary instance of duty or sensibility, would be as unfitting as to leave it untold. If there had been no such outward manifestation, the inward grace must have been wanting; but it may well be conceived how these parents must have doated upon such a child, whose person, moreover, was as beautiful as her disposition and her mind. Yet there were friends, as they are called, who remonstrated with them on the course, they were pursuing in her education, and advised that she should be deprived of books, pen, ink, and paper, Her parents and rigorously confined to domestic concerns. loved her both too wisely and too well to be guided by such counsellors, and they anxiously kept the advice secret from Lucretia, lest it should wound her feelings-perhaps, also, lest it U 2 should : should give her, as it properly might, a rooted dislike to these misjudging and unfeeling persons. But she discovered it by accident, and its effect upon her was such as could little have been foreseen instead of exciting resentment, it produced acquiescence in the prudential reasons which had been urged, and a persevering effort of self-denial, the greatest which could be made. Without declaring any such intention, she gave up her pen and her books, and applied herself exclusively to household business, for several months, till her body as well as her spirits failed. She became emaciated, her countenance bore marks of deep dejection, and often, while actively employed in domestic duties, she could neither restrain nor conceal her tears. The mother seems to have been slower in perceiving this than she would have been had it not been for her own state of confinement; she noticed it at length, and said, Lucretia, it is a long time since you have written any thing.' The girl then burst into tears, and replied, 'O mother, I have given that up long ago.' But why?' said her mother. After much emotion, she answered, 'I am convinced from what my friends have said, and from what I see, that I have done wrong in pursuing the course I have. I well know the circumstances of the family are such, that it requires the united efforts of every member to sustain it; and since my eldest sister is now gone, it becomes my duty to do every thing in my power to lighten the cares of my parents.' On this occasion, Mrs. Davidson acted with equal discretion and tenderness; she advised her to take a middle course, neither to forsake her favourite pursuits, nor devote herself to them, but use them in that wholesome alternation with the everyday business of the world, which is alike salutary for the body and the mind. 'She therefore occasionally resumed her pen, and seemed comparatively happy.' Let no parent wish for a child of precocious genius, nor rejoice over such a one without fear and trembling! Great endowments, whether of nature or of fortune, bring with them their full proportion of temptations and dangers; and perhaps in the endowments of nature the danger is greatest because there is most at stake. In most cases it seems as if the seeds of moral and intellectual excellence were not designed to bring forth fruits on earth, but that they are brought into existence and developed here only for transplantation to a world where there shall be nothing to corrupt or hurt them, nothing to impede their growth in goodness, and their progress toward perfection. This is a consideration which may prepare the parent's heart, or console it. Such a plant was Lucretia Davidson. Under the most favourable circumstances, and with the most judicious culture, it seems hardly possible that she could have been reared; an intellectual fever seems to |