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woman's character, often developing new talents and energies, chastening the spirit of youthful hope for its tasks of duty. Miss Cook's home, after the loss of her beloved mother, was neither pleasant nor happy, and the young girl was compelled to find in intellectual pursuits her means of contentment. She gave expression to her earnest thought and generous feelings, in rhyme, which seems to have flowed spontaneously, for there is hardly a trace of labour or study in her poetry. But there is that which is perhaps, better than extreme polish; as an elegant critic has well observed—"There is a heartiness and truthful sympathy with human kind, a love of freedom and of nature, in this lady's productions, which, more even than their grace and melody, charms her readers. She writes like a whole-souled woman, earnestly and unaffectedly, evidently giving her actual thoughts, but never transcending the limits of taste or delicacy."

Miss Cook's poetry began to appear in various London journals about 1836. In 1840, the poems were collected and published under the title of "Melaia, and other Poems." This beautiful volume was soon re-published in America; and, with many additions from the fertile mind of the author, these poems have passed through a variety of editions both in England and America.

In September, 1849, the poetess made her appearance in a new, character, as editor of a weekly publication, entitled "Eliza Cook's' Journal." The introductory paper from her pen, has some remarks which so clearly describe the feelings of this interesting and noble-minded woman, that we must give them, while thanking her for this daguerreotype sketch of her inner self. She says—"I have been too long known by those whom I address, to feel strange in addressing them. My earliest rhymes, written from intuitive impulse, before hackneyed experience or politic judgment could dictate their tendency, were accepted and responded to by those whose good word is a 'tower of strength.' The first active breath of nature that swept over my heart-strings, awoke wild but earnest melodies, which I dotted down in simple notes; and when I found that others thought the tune worth learning—when I heard my strains hummed about the sacred altars of domestic firesides, and saw old men, bright women, and young children scanning my ballad strains, then was I made to think that my burning desire to pour out my soul's measure of music was given for a purpose My young bosom throbbed with rapture, for my feelings had met with responsive echoes from honest and genuine Humanity, and the glory of heaven seemed partially revealed, when I discovered that I held power over the affections of earth. ****** "I am anxious to give my feeble aid to the gigantic struggle for intellectual elevation now going on, and fling my energies and will into a cause where my heart will zealously animate my duty.

"It is too true, that there are dense clouds of Ignorance yet to be dissipated—huge mountains of Error yet to be removed; but there is a stirring development of progressive mind in 'the mass,' which only requires steady and free communion with Truth to expand itself into that enlightened and practical wisdom, on which ever rests the perfection of social and political civilization; and I believe that all who work in the field of Literature with sincere desire to serve the many, by arousing generous sympathies and