neighbour of the Landons, and to him, as an arbiter of the destinies of young authors, and a man of the kindliest disposition, admitted even in quarters where the utmost difference of literary opinion prevailed, an introduction was, without much difficulty, obtained. Fragments of romance, snatches of song, "fancies and good nights," pieces composed with about as much art as a young bird might exhibit in its first chirpings—were submitted with mingled hope and fear for the critic's judgment, and this was speedily given in a form of frank and strong encouragement. In some of the earliest verses that were shown to him, Mr. Jerdan had the taste and feeling to perceive the faint colourings of a dawn that was to resemble
"The uncertain glory of an April day."
If he could not pronounce every set of verses to be a poem, he could well discern that nobody but a poet had written them. If there were not evidences of the power and mastery of the divine art, they were proofs of a love of it too intense to fail in working out some of the sweetest of its objects. As he felt he spoke; the encouragement had an instant effect; and the "Child of Song" had the delight, not long after, of seeing some of her verses included among the original poetry of the influential and fame-dispensing "Literary Gazette."
The effect of this editorial compliment, and the praise that accompanied it, remained long upon her mind, comforting her under some trials to which her family were about that time subjected, by feeding her enthusiastic hopes of being able, in after years, to attach honour to their name, and to aid their fortunes. When she was about eighteen years old, she commenced a letter to her cousin,
