to submit to it. I think wisdom may wear motley; and truth, unlike man, be born laughing. Genius ought every where to be true to itself, and to its origin, the Divine Mind; to its home, the undying spirit; to its power, that of being a blessing; to its reward, that of being remembered."
"The speaker to whom you have been listening with such attention is Miss Amesbury; to use a very fine phrase from some magazine, 'a brilliant star in our brilliant galaxy of female writers.' I characterise her conversation by a fine line from Marlow,
'A frosty night, when heaven is lined with stars.'
I recall a thousand such beautiful expressions. I remember her comparing society 'to a honey-comb, sweet but hollow.' Again, she calls friendship's memory 'the fame of the heart.' Her last work is my favourite. The character in the second tale called Egeria is meant for Mrs. Hemans—a most exquisite sketch, written with all the delicacy of feminine tact, and all the warmth of feminine feeling. It is a beautiful answer to that false reproach, that one woman cannot praise another.
"Miss Amesbury is especially happy in the
