more sedative influences-and while her poetry at that period was deeper, tenderer, more touching than ever, it was like the pelican's heart-blood, poured forth (if naturalists would let these pretty stories pass) to feed her brood." One of the peculiar features of the increased sensitiveness of her temperament at this time, was an awakened enthusiasm for music, which amounted to an absolute passion. "I do not think," she wrote, "that I can bear the burthen of my life without music for more than two or three days." Yet, with sensibilities so exquisite as hers, this melomania was a source of far more pain than pleasure; it was so impossible for any earthly strains to approach that ideal and unattainable standard of perfection which existed within her mind, and which she has shadowed forth with a mournful energy in " Mozart's Requiem." Like perfumes on the wind, Which none may stay or bind, The beautiful comes rushing through my soul; The spirit to detain, Of the deep harmonies that past me roll. Therefore disturbing dreams Trouble the secret streams And founts of music that o'erflow my breast; Than may on earth be mine, Haunts my worn heart, and will not let me rest. From time to time, however, she had enjoyment of music of a very high character, for much of which she was indebted to her acquaintance with Mr. Lodge, the distinguished amateur, by whom so many of her VOL. I. 16 songs have been set to melodies of infinite beauty and feeling. At a somewhat later period she derived much delight from the talents of Mr. James Zengheer Herrmann, from whom, for a time, she took lessons, for the express purpose of studying, and fully understanding, the Stabat Mater of Pergolesi, which had taken an extraordinary hold of her imagination. This fine composition was first brought to her notice by Mr. Lodge, to whom she thus expressed her appreciation of it:—"It is quite impossible for me to tell you the impression I have received from that most spiritual music of Pergolesi's, which really haunted me the whole night. How much I have to thank you for introducing me, in such a manner, to so new and glorious a world of musical thought and feeling!" And she wrote of it again, some time after, with no less deep a feeling. "I am learning Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, which realizes all that I could dream of religious music, and which derives additional interest from its being the last work in which the master-spirit breathed forth its enthusiasm." The state of her health had long obliged her to discontinue the practice of her harp, but the same friend whose recollections have been already quoted from, recalls a singular instance of sudden and transient return to it. "I remember," she writes, "her stringing and tuning it one day, just after she settled at Wavertree, and pouring forth a full tide of music all without notes, and with as much facility of execution as if she had had the instrument daily under her hand for years. Having listened and wondered for about half an hour. I said, 'Really. Felicia, it seems to me that there is something not quite canny in this; so, especially as it is beginning to be twilight, I shall think it prudent to take my departure.' The harp, however, required more physical exertion than she could well afford, and it soon fell into neglect again." The "brightly associated hours" she passed with Mrs. Lawrence, have been alluded to by Mrs. Hemans, in the dedication to the National Lyrics, and recorded by "her friend, and the sister of her friend, Colonel D'Aguilar," in her own affectionate Recollections. The "Books and Flowers" of Wavertree Hall, were ever fondly identified with their dear mistress; and years after the enjoyment of them had passed away from all senses but memory, she who was then herself, too," passing away," thus tenderly alluded to them from her sick couch at Redesdale. "When I write to you, my imagination always brightens, and pleasant thoughts of lovely flowers, and dear old books, and strains of antique Italian melody, come floating over me, as Bacon says, the rich scents go 'to and fro like music in the air." " The reviving influences of these intellectual enjoyments were, however, but too powerfully counterbalanced by the constant pressure of inward sorrows, and daily anxieties. The experience of a first winter, moreover, occasioned Mrs. Hemans many misgivings as to the healthiness of her new residence; and the illness of her three boys, who were seized with the hooping cough, very soon after their establishment at Wavertree, was anything but an encouraging inauguration to one so new to the cares of household management. The fatigue she endured in nursing them, was far more than she was equal to; and at length it proved, by way of climax, that she had actually caught this harassing and tedious complaint herself. Change of air was, of course, recommended; and early in the spring, the whole party of invalids repaired for a short time to Seacombe, a small bathingplace on the Cheshire side of the Mersey. Here they speedily derived all the benefits anticipated from the sea air; and the cheerful tone of some of the following extracts, exhibits once more the naturally elastic spirits of the writer. "You will rejoice to hear that we are going on extremely well, and are able to be out a great deal. It is very strange to me to be here. You know how rapidly my thoughts and feelings chase each other, like shadows of clouds over the mountains; sometimes I feel quite forlorn-at others, and those, I think, the most frequent, enjoying with child-like pleasure, the moving picture of the waters, the thousand sails and streamers glancing and gleaming past like things of life.' I can hardly leave this animated sea-beach, when once I have reached it; and at this distance "The city's voice itself Is soft as Solitude's." " "The boys and I passed a most comic yesterday, sitting in a sort of verdant twilight, as we were obliged to have the outworks of green blinds fastened over the windows, to keep them from blowing in. Then the wind kept lifting the knocker, and performing such human knocks all day, that we thought friends must be coming to see us in the shape of meteoric stones-for certainly in no other could they have approached us. However, Charles cut out and painted what he pleases to call the Weird Sisters from Macbeth; and Henry set to music The Homes of England,' in a style only to be paralleled by Charles's painting; and I read The Robbers; and the knocks at the door were thought so full of happy humour, that they made us laugh aux eclats.' "Last Sunday I visited a very interesting scenethe Mariners' Church, on the Liverpool side of the water. It is the hulk of a ship of war, now fitted up for divine service, which is performed by Mr. Scoresby. The earnest attention of the hardy, weather-beaten countenances, all steadfastly fixed upon the preacher, connected with the images of past danger by flood and fire, which such a scene would naturally call up- these things were very deeply impressive, and I am glad to have borne away a recollection of them. I had a good deal of conversation with Mr. Scoresby, in the vestry (the ci-devant powder-room, I suppose) of his church. "We are very dissipated indeed, as far as receiving visiters can make us so, for we have only been alone two evenings since we came here. Our guests, to be sure, are obliged to depart at most patriarchal hours, having to set off with the speed of Harold Harefoot, at eight o'clock in the evening, in order to be in time for the steam-boat which is to convey them back, and which they do not always overtake. Charlie's despatch, which I have left open for your amusement, will, I think, rather entertain you. His |