too many admirers in England, was extraordinary and unprecedented; for it is said that in one year one million copies of the work were sold. In 1799, appeared her "Strictures on the Modern System of Female Education," which led to an intention, warmly advocated by Porteus, the Bishop of London, of committing to her the education of Charlotte, Princess of Wales. This, however, was not effected, but it led to the publication of her "Hints towards Forming the Character of a Young Princess," in 1805. Then came what has, perhaps, been her most popular work, "Colebs in Search of a Wife," published in 1809, and which passed through at least six editions in one year. It is a very entertaining and instructive novel, full of striking remarks on men and manners, and portrays the kind of character which, in the estimation of our author, it is desirable that young ladies should possess.

In 1811 and 1812, appeared her "Practical Piety," and "Christian Morals;" and, in 1815, her "Essay on the Character and Writings of St. Paul,”—a far bolder undertaking than any in which she had previously been engaged, and which she has executed to the delight of every reader. Soon after the death of her sister Martha, in 1819, her literary career terminated with "Moral Sketches," and "Reflections on Prayer." She was now aged and infirm, but still continued to take a great interest in the welfare of charity schools, Bible and missionary societies, and other benevolent and religious institutions. In 1828, she left Barley Wood,2 where she had resided from the beginning of the century, and took up her abode at Clifton, very near Bristol, at both of which places she had many valuable friends, though she had outlived every known relation on the earth. Here she spent her last days, supported in the afflictions of age by the consolations of that religion to the service of which she had devoted the vigor of her life, and expired, with the calmness and full faith of the Christian, on the 7th of September, 1833.3

Few authors of any age or country have done more to improve mankind-to make them wiser and better for both worlds-than Hannah More. All her writings are devoted to the cause of sound Christian morals and practical righteousness. Her poetry, though it takes not a very high rank among the productions of the Muse, is easy in its versification, displays a considerable degree of imagination, and is full of excellent sentiments and judicious remarks upon men and

1 "Hannah More's eminently useful life manifested itself in nothing more than in the effort she made to instruct the ignorant, through the medium of moral and religious tracts, and by the establishment of schools. These were made a blessing on a wide scale, while their good effects are continued to this time, and are likely to be perpetuated."-COTTLE'S Reminiscences of Southey and Coleridge.

A cottage delightfully situated in the village of Wrington, in Somersetshire, a village renowned as the birthplace of John Locke. "Miss Hannah More lived with her four sisters, Mary, Elizabeth, Sarah, and Martha, after they quitted their school in Park Street, Bristol, at a small neat cottage in Somersetshire, called Cowslip Green. The Misses More, some years afterward, built a better house, and called it Barley Wood, on the side of a hill about a mile from Wrington. Here they all lived in the highest degree respected and beloved, their house the seat of piety, cheerfulness, literature, and hospitality; and they themselves receiving the honor of more visits from bishops, nobles, and persons of distinction than, perhaps, any private family in the kingdom."-Ibid.

Read an excellent article on Hannah More's writings and life, in "American Quarterly Review," xvi. 519. Also, "London Quarterly," lii. 416.

A writer, in an article in the fifty-second volume of the "Quarterly Review," thus strongly remarks: How many have thanked God for the hour that first made them acquainted with the writings of Hannah More! She did as much real good in her generation as any woman that ever held the pen."

manners. Her prose is justly admired for its sententious wisdom, its practical good sense, its masculine vigor, and the elevated, moral, and religious tone that pervades it.2

WAR.

O war, what art thou?

After the brightest conquest, what appears
Of all thy glories? For the vanquish'd-chains;
For the proud victor-what? Alas! to reign
O'er desolated nations-a drear waste,

By one man's crime, by one man's lust of power,
Unpeopled! Ravaged fields assume the place
Of smiling harvests; and uncultured plains
Succeed the fertile vineyard; barren waste
Deforms the spot once rich with luscious fig
And the fat olive.-Devastation reigns.
Here-rifled temples are the cavern'd dens
Of savage beasts, or haunt of birds obscene;
There-populous cities blacken in the sun,
And in the general wreck proud palaces
Lie undistinguish'd save by the dull smoke
Of recent conflagration! When the song

Of dear-bought joy, with many a triumph swell'd,
Salutes the victor's ear, and soothes his pride,
How is the grateful harmony profaned

With the sad dissonance of virgins' cries,

Who mourn their brothers slain!-of matrons hoar,
Who clasp their wither'd hands, and fondly ask,
With iteration shrill--their slaughter'd sons!
How is the laurel's verdure stain'd with blood,
And soil'd with widows' tears!

OPPRESSION.3

What wrongs, what injuries does oppression plead,
To smooth the crime and sanctify the deed?
What strange offence, what aggravated sin?
They stand convicted-of a darker skin!

Barbarians, hold! the opprobrious commerce spare;
Respect His sacred image which they bear.
Though dark and savage, ignorant and blind,
They claim the common privilege of kind;
Let Malice strip them of each other plea,
They still are men, and men should still be free.
Insulted Reason loathes the inverted trade-
Loathes, as she views the human purchase made;
The outraged Goddess, with abhorrent eyes,
Sees MAN the traffic, SOULS the merchandise!

In the house of Garrick, where she was a constant visitor in the earlier part of her life, she was called "The Tenth Muse," and then for shortness, and still more refinedly, "MISS NINE." 2 Horace Walpole used to call her his "Holy Hannah'

In one of his addresses, preceding the Revolution, John Adams, afterward the second President of the United States, nobly said: "Let the colleges impress on the tender mind the beauty of Liberty and Virtue, and the deformity and turpitude of Slavery and Vice, and spread far and wide the ideas of Right and the sentiments of Freedom."

Man, whom fair Commerce taught with judging eye,
And liberal hand, to barter or to buy,
Indignant Nature blushes to behold,

Degraded Man himself, truck'd, barter'd, sold;
Of every native privilege bereft,

Yet cursed with every wounded feeling left.
Hard lot! each brutal suffering to sustain,

Yet keep the sense acute of human pain.

Who makes the sum of human blessings less,
Or sinks the stock of general happiness,

Though erring fame may grace, though false renown
His life may blazon or his memory crown,
Yet the last audit shall reverse the cause,
And God shall vindicate his broken laws.

The purest wreaths which hang on glory's shrine,
For empires founded, peaceful PENN! are thine;
No blood-stain'd laurels crown'd thy virtuous toil,
No slaughter'd natives drench'd thy fair-earn'd soil.
Still thy meek spirit in thy flock' survives;
Consistent still, their doctrines rule their lives;
Thy followers only have effaced the shame
Inscribed by SLAVERY on the Christian name.
What page of human annals can record
A deed so bright as human rights restored?
Oh may that godlike deed, that shining page,
Redeem OUR fame, and consecrate OUR age!

WISDOM.

Ah! when did Wisdom covet length of days.
Or seek its bliss in pleasure, wealth, or praise?
No: Wisdom views with an indifferent eye,
All finite joys, all blessings born to die;
The soul on earth is an immortal guest,
Compell'd to starve at an unreal feast:

A spark which upward tends by nature's force;
A stream diverted from its parent source;
A drop dissever'd from the boundless sea;

A moment parted from eternity;

A pilgrim panting for a rest to come;

An exile anxious for his native home.

FAITH IN HUMBLE LIFE.

Thy triumphs, Faith, we need not take
Alone from the blest martyr's stake;
In scenes obscure, no less we see

That Faith is a reality;

An evidence of things not seen,

A substance firm whereon to lean.

Tae Quakers have emancipated all their slaves throughout America.-II. M.

Go, search the cottager's low room,

The day scarce piercing through the gloom;
The Christian on his dying bed,
Unknown, unletter'd, hardly fed;
No flattering witnesses attend,
To tell how glorious was his end;
Save in the Book of Life, his name
Unheard; he never dream'd of fame:
No human consolation near,

No voice to soothe, no friend to cheer;
Of every earthly stay bereft,
And nothing but his Saviour left;
Fast sinking to his kindred dust,
The Word of Life is still his trust;
The joy God's promises impart
Lies like a cordial at his heart;
Unshaken faith its strength supplies,
He loves, believes, adores, and dies!

THE TWO WEAVERS.

As at their work two weavers sat,
Beguiling time with friendly chat,
They touch'd upon the price of meat,
So high, a weaver scarce could eat.
"What with my brats and sickly wife,"
Quoth Dick, "I'm almost tired of life;
So hard my work, so poor my fare,
'Tis more than mortal man can bear.

"How glorious is the rich man's state!
His house so fine! his wealth so great!
Heaven is unjust, you must agree:
Why all to him? why none to me?

"In spite of what the Scripture teaches
In spite of all the parson preaches,
This world (indeed I've thought so long)
Is ruled, methinks, extremely wrong.
"Where'er I look, howe'er I range,
"Tis all confused, and hard, and strange;
The good are troubled and oppress'd,
And all the wicked are the bless'd."

Quoth John, "Our ignorance is the cause
Why thus we blame our Maker's laws;
Parts of his ways alone we know;

'Tis all that man can see below.

"Seest thou that carpet, not half done, Which thou, dear Dick, hast well begun? Behold the wild confusion there,

So rude the mass it makes one stare!

"A stranger, ignorant of the trade,

Would say, no meaning's there convey'd;

For where's the middle, where's the border?
Thy carpet now is all disorder."

Quoth Dick, "My work is yet in bits,
But still in every part it fits;
Besides, you reason like a lout-
Why, man, that carpet's inside out."

Says John, "Thou say'st the thing I mean,
And now I hope to cure thy spleen;

This world, which clouds thy soul with doubt,
Is but a carpet inside out.

"As when we view these shreds and ends,
We know not what the whole intends;
So, when on earth things look but odd,
They're working still some scheme of GOD.

"No plan, no pattern, can we trace;
All wants proportion, truth, and grace;
The motley mixture we deride,
Nor see the beauteous upper side.

"But when we reach that world of light,
And view those works of God aright,
Then shall we see the whole design,
And own the workman is divine.

"What now seem random strokes, will there
All order and design appear;

Then shall we praise what here we spurn'd,
For then the carpet shall be turn'd."

"Thou'rt right," quoth Dick; "no more I'll grumble That this sad world's so strange a jumble;

My impious doubts are put to flight,
For my own carpet sets me right."

IMPORTANCE OF TRIFLES.

Since trifles make the sum of human things, And half our misery from our foibles springs; Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease, And though but few can serve, yet all may please; Oh let the ungentle spirit learn from hence,

A small unkindness is a great offence!

To spread large bounties though we wish in vain, Yet all may shun the guilt of giving pain.

To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth,

With rank to grace them, or to crown with health,
Our little lot denies; yet, liberal still,

God gives its counterpoise to every ill;
Nor let us murmur at our stinted powers,

When kindness, love, and concord may be ours.

The gift of ministering to others' ease
To all her sons impartial Heaven decrees;