thoughts. I had a curious mode of impressing on my memory what had been read, namely, lying awake, in the silence of the night, and repeating it all over to myself. To that habit I probably owe the extreme tenacity of memory which I now possess; but, like all other good things, it had its attendant evil, for I have often thought it curious that, whilst I never forgot any scrap of knowledge collected, however small, yet the common events of daily life slip from my memory so quickly, that I can scarcely find anything again which I have once laid aside."

His

Miss Brown had now reached a period in life, when dreams of love and romance lose much of their interest, and fancies gradually give place to facts. torical novels were laid aside, and the more wonderful romance of history itself now attracted her attention. Baine's History of the French War, and Hume's History of England, were read by her with avidity. About this time, a friend presented her with that voluminous work, the "Universal History," in twentytwo volumes, which made her acquainted with the histories of Greece and Rome, and other ancient nations. The fund of information thus acquired was afterwards increased from many other sources. These historical studies making a knowledge of geography necessary, she began to acquire this in the mode already indicated, viz. by learning the lessons of her brothers and sisters. In order to obtain a more perfect knowledge of the relative situation of distant places, she sometimes requested a friend who could

trace maps, to place her finger upon some well known spot, the situation of which was already known to her, and then conduct the fingers of the other hand to any place in the map, the situation of which she desired to ascertain. By this plan, having previously known how the cardinal points were placed, she was enabled to form a tolerably correct idea, not only of the boundaries and magnitude of various countries, but also of the courses of rivers and mountain chains. In her eagerness to gain a knowledge of geography, it seems rather surprising that the present plan of constructing maps for the blind, did not suggest itself to her mind. Had some friend glued upon her map tangible lines, marking the boundaries of the different divisions, and by other elevations indicating the course of rivers, mountain chains, and the localities of principal towns, it would have enabled her to pursue the study of geography with little or no inconvenience.

It may be well to remark here, in this connection, (and perhaps be better understood,) that blind persons find no difficulty in retaining images, or ideas of the form of bodies, if their true shape has been once positively ascertained by the sense of touch. Hence, it will be seen that ideal maps and diagrams may be drawn by them, and impressed upon the memory with all their lines and angles distinctly marked. Though these images present no differences in color, there are marked differences in the smoothness, or asperity, of their surfaces. Those who can only retain the im

pression of objects they have once seen, by their peculiar color, or, in other words, by the contrast of light and shade, will hardly understand how it is that one who has never seen color, and consequently can have no conceptions of the outlines of objects as they appear to the eye, can picture to himself the relative distance of bodies, their magnitude and different proportions, and more particularly, bodies in motion. At a casual glance at the subject, it no doubt appears wonderful that a person entirely depending upon the sense of touch, should be able to form any idea of extent beyond the space he occupies. But it should be remembered that all knowledge was first gained by repeated experiment. Some writers on optics claim that the infant first sees every object inverted; but that the delusion vanishes when he has once ascertained by the sense of touch their true position. Whether this be true or not, it is certain that the most experienced observer cannot always determine the true distances of objects from the eye by their apparent magnitude. Hence, in order to gain a knowledge of extent, figure, and the real magnitude of bodies, a series of experiments seem requisite for the seeing, as well as for the blind.

By a few of Miss Brown's poems, which we propose to subjoin presently, the reader will be able to judge whether their learned authoress was ignorant of the scenes she so vividly describes. Although she could have retained no recollection of visible objects, her imagery is perfect, and her descriptions by no

means deficient in warmth and color. Her first poetical efforts were but feeble imitations of everything she knew from the Psalms to Gray's Elegy. Depending upon the eyes of others for much of her information, Miss Brown had, up to this time, been able only to manage the lighter kinds of reading, by the aid of her young relatives, who took great pleasure in reading to her such publications as most amused and interested themselves. As this kind of reading did not greatly elevate her standard of taste, her powers of invention, for a time, kept pace with her imperfect ideas of poetry.

In a few years her compositions had accumulated into a considerable manuscript. But having read the poems of Burns, and Pope's translation of Homer's Iliad, she became so disgusted with her own feeble attempts at versification, that in a fit of sovereign contempt she committed her whole manuscript to the flames, and resolved never again to insult the muses. In this resolution she persevered for several years. Byron's Childe Harold next made a deep impression on her mind, and served greatly to strengthen her resolution. Her strong inclinations, however, for writing verse, together with the influence of her friends, at length induced her to break the rash promise she had made, and become a contributor to the "Irish Penny Journal." In 1841 she sent a few small poems to the editor of the London Atheneum, with the offer of further contributions, and solicited that a copy of the journal might be sent to her in

return. After waiting in anxious suspense some acknowledgment of her voluntary contributions, she had nearly given up as lost her long cherished object, when to her great delight, several numbers of the journal arrived. This encouragement gave a new impulse to her efforts; and with it dawned a brighter day in her life than had hitherto cheered her solitary way, lighting up a fairer prospect in the future than she had yet anticipated.

From that time Miss Brown's writings have been more before the public, and never failed to attract favorable notice. She is at present well known in the literary world as an authoress of some very creditable verse. Her long poem, "The Star of Attigher," is thought by some less meritorious than many of her smaller productions. Her style is brilliant, and her poems abound in metaphor. If they have a fault, it is the sudden transition from one simile to another, illustrating the same idea, somewhat analagous to a rapid modulation in musical composition: a new key is introduced, before the ear is prepared for a new succession of sounds. Her themes, however, are happily chosen, and the construction of her verse is fluent and musical.

To those who see, like herself, by the light which fancy kindles in the imagination, creating for the blind an artificial day, her poems cannot fail to be peculiarly attractive. It is most remarkable that, in her whole collection of poems, there is not a word about blindness. The most probable reason that we