have often erred, I have not clung willingly to error; and that while I may have failed, in representing, I have never ceased to love Truth. If there be much to condemn in the following pages, let my narrow capacity, as opposed to the infinite object it would embrace, be generously considered; if there be anything to approve, I am ready to acknowledge the assistance which my illustrations have received from the exalting nature of their subject—as the waters of Halys acquire a peculiar taste from the soil over which they flow."
Besides the Essay on Mind, preface, analyses, and notes, the little book contained fourteen short pieces pretty equally divided between Byronic and domestic themes. Whilst none of these verses gave cause to believe in the advent of a great poetess, some of them, notably those beginning "Mine is a wayward lay," were skilfully handled and were not barren of felicitous turns of thought.
Reverting to the more personal history of the young poetess, we arrive at what may be deemed the first, and probably the greatest, real trouble she ever had to endure. For some time past Mrs. Barrett had had a continuance of ill-health, and eventually, on the 1st of October 1828, she died, at the comparatively early age of forty-eight. Elizabeth, herself an invalid, was left by her mother's death not only the chief consoler of her widowed father, but, to some extent, the guardian and guide of her seven brothers and sisters.
How Elizabeth managed to bear her grief, or what part she took in household affairs, are mysteries which have not been revealed, but she continued to seek consolation for human trouble, and an outlet for her
