fyxmll Hmverjsiitg Jibavg 6603 Cornell University Library PS 2236.L483A17 3 1924 022 064 277 The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022064277 '////J, /^' /ry^'-Jr^/f-^'^' ,^ // // / ■ /i THE POETICAL REMAINS OK THE LATE MAEY ELIZABETH LEE. BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIE. BY S. GILMAN, D.D. CHABLESTON, S. C. : WALKER & RICHARDS. 1851. Entered according to the Act of Congi*ess, in the year 185J, by WALKER & RICHARDS, In the Clerk's Office of the District Coui-t, for the District of South-Carolina. CHARLESTON : Steam-power Press of Walker & James. No. 101 East-Bay. CONTENTS. Pnge. A Memorial, . . . . . iii Biographical Memoir, . . . xi Three Sonnets "written during illness, . xxviii The Hour of Death, . . 1 Smiles, ... .3 Summer Clouds, . . .4 Light, . 5 Where are Ye '. . .6 To My Cousin, . 7 A Sister's Love, . . 8 They Led Me On, . . . 9 Sabbath Evening, . . 10 Sabbath Bells, . 12 To Summer, . . 13 The Division of the Earth, ... 15 Matthew Xm.,2— 3, . . . . .16 Saturday Evening Reflections, . . 18 The Deathbed of Prince Henry, . 19 Hymn, for the Temperance Cause, . . 22 Stanzas— Oh Not For Me, ... 22 Meeting, . . 24 Hymn for a Young Men's Temperance Society, 25 The Corner Stone, ... . 25 Eternity, ....... 26 Thoughts during the Conflagration of St. Philip's Church, 27 Stanzas — Two Years Have Passed Away, . . 28 A Sketch, ... .30 VI CONTENTS. Page. To Twilight, . 32 Choice of Flowers, . 33 " Follow Me," . 34 The Boy of Scio, . 36 To One Who Had " Nothing to Love," 39 The Family Parting, . 40 Midnight— Dec. 31, . . .43 The Brave Volunteers, . . 45 Correggio's Holy Family, . . 47 The Winter Evening's Fireside, . 48 A Farewell, . 51 The Babe's First Laugh, . 52 Hymn — Jesus, . . 55 Human Joys, . . 55 The Burial of Dade and his Comrades, . 56 Hymn — From the Geraian, 61 To my Mother, . . 62 The Tree of Life, . . .65 The World— From the German, . 67 Why do we fear to die ? . 68 My Peace I Give Unto You, . 70 A Sketch from Life, . 72 Where Shall My Grave be? . 76 To the Memory of Rev. D. Cobia, . . .78 Expectation — A Fragment, . . 79 Spring Flowers, . 81 Centennial Ode for the S. C. Society, 84 Sonnet — The Evening Shades, . . 85 Life, . . . 86 The Blind Negro Communicant, . 89 The Dead! . . . ,92 Hymn to Jehovah, . . . . 96 The Dying Girl, . . . .98 To October, . . • . . . 101 To the Huma, . . . 103 A Vision, . 105 The Invalid Stranger — A Sketch, . HO To my Father, 112 CONTENTS. va A Ballad of the Old Dominion, Page' 116 Thouglitiess Words, . . ■ 117 The Boy among Primroses, . 120 The Sabbath a Delight, . 122 The Coronation of Victoria, . . . . 194 Susan, .... . 128 The Voice in the Wilderness, 130 The Broken-hearted, 132 The Blind Pastor, .138 The Skies, .... . 143 Vespers at the Orphan House, 145 Hymn — Alas ! amid this wide spread earth. . 148 The Church by Moonlight, . 149 " There is a Time to Die," . 150 Song, .... . 151 Line.s on the Burial of an Infant, . 152 The Morning Hour, .... . 152 The Fairy Butterfly, .... . 154 Illustration of Luke VIII., 40, 155 The Last Place of Sleep, . 167 The Blind Boy, .... . 158 Written beneath Withered Violets, . 160 The Dying Christian, . 161 Sonnet — To Poesy, . 162 Lay — Summer Rain, . . * . . 162 To a Departing Friend, . 163 Ode to the Memory of Mrs. Hemans, . 165 Koerner's Prayer during the Battle, . ■ . 166 To the Memory of a Friend, . . . 168 The Lone Star, . . -• ., - . I'ZO Convalescence, lYl Washington's Day, . . ." 176 The Pastor's Recovery, . 178 Summer's Eve, .... . 179 To the Memoiy of a Relative, . 181 The Temple, 182 A Mother's Joy, .... . 184 Commencement, . 186 CONTENTS. Bertrand du Guesclin, The Bridal, The Striped Flag of Bethel, Liove and Death, Lines to an Invalid Stranger, Night, Sonnet — To my New Fen, Anna's Question about God, Klopstock and Meta, The Rainy Day, . The Wish, The Poets, . . ■* The Spring, Fpge. 191 196 199 201 204 206 208 209 212 217 219 220 222 BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. BIOGEAPHICAI. MEMOIK. The author of the poems in this volume is her own best biographer. In these she has transcribed and presented to the world her thoughts, feelings, and experiences, as they arose. She is thus, in a good degree, the historian of her own mind, — while the professed writer of her life can do little more than supply names, dates, and barren facts, to serve as a frame for the speaking picture. No extraordinary or outstanding incidents marked her career. She sought, with a passionate eagerness, the shades of retirement. She shrank, almost morbidly, from personal distinction and notoriety, even while seeming to affect them by the will- ing publication of her compositions. She was long disabled by disease from mingling in the usual transactions and enjoyments of hfe. Thus, no eventful story can be told of her ; she was the leader of no social circle ; she undertook no project of reform ; she started on no pilgrim- ages ; nor did outward romance or glare of any kind attend her quiet path. Her existence was, indeed, in some respects, a busy and heroic one ; she achieved great tasks ; she fought mighty battles ; she endured and welcomed dreadful sufferings ; yet these conflicts passed within ; the scene of their commotions was the depth of her own spirit, and it scarcely transmitted a ripple to the surface of the world's affairs. Notwithstanding, however, this obscure and most unpretending lot, it is certain that she made on a large number of her contemporaries a vivid and profound impression. She commenced writing about the time when the Southern literature of our country was awaking to the asser- tion of an independent existence, and the decided attention and success which waited on her efforts, encouraged and stimulated other minds to share in the auspicious movement. The very few persons who enjoyed her intimate acquaintance — the very rare occasions on which she ap- Xll BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. peared in society — were yet sufficiently numerous to extend the persua- sion that she was indeed a superior and interesting woman, of exalted virtue, of commanding talents, of lovely person,* and of refined and attractive manners. The lyrical excellence of many of her composi- tions, as they successively came before the public, had united with her secluded life, in throwing a sort of mystery around her name, and just enough was altogether known of her to excite and attract the homage of an admiring imagination. When her premature, but long threatened and expected decease, had at last startled the wide circle of her admirers, and plunged into no common sadness her immediate friends, the wish was soon expressed, that a collection of her poems should be published, accompanied by some memorials of her life and character. The present writer, who had sustained towards her, from her earliest childhood, a relation inspir- ing nearly as much of parental as of pastoral attachment, was easily prevailed upon to undertake the task. He felt a strong confidence that the general excellence of her poems abundantly justified their repubUca- tion, although he well foresaw the difficulties of tbe biographical part of the project, arising from the scantiness of interesting materials. But, conscious that he could not thus erect an imposing monument to her name, he was at least glad of the opportunity to throw a loving flower into her grave. Mary Elizabeth Lee was born on the 23d of March, 1813, at Charles- ton, which her own writings have contributed something to render classic ground. Her parents were William and Elizabeth Lee. Her father practised the profession of the law in early life, and sat for a period as member of the State Legislature. Her uncle. Judge Thomas Lee, was, for many years and in several respects, one of the most dis- tinguished citizens of South-Carolina. Several others of her connexions were ardently devoted to intellectual cultivation, and thus Mary's lot fell in a family where every literary tendency was sure to be kindly en- couraged and happily- developed. Scarcely emerging from infancy , she was impelled by some conge- nial instinct to find her chief employment and delight in reading. She would quit every amusement designed to engage her attention, and would bring her book, uncalled, as soon as she saw her mother eom- *The engi-aved portrait, prefixed to this volume, is from a daguerreotype taken towards the close of her life, and under some disadvantages. It preserves, however something of her expression. BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIE. Xlll mence her needle-work, and placing herself at her feet, would long continue to read aloud, frequently looking up to judge by her counte- nance if she felt interested in what gave pleasure or pain to herself What kindlings of literary taste and sympathy were here! As an instance of the remarkable retentiveness of her memory, a quality so^ften the accompaniment of superior minds, after she had perused the same book two or three times, she would repeat aloud page after page, amounting perhaps to twenty, entering with as much interest into all the variations of tone and emphasis, as if she were attracted by it for the first time. On these occasions, she exhibited a curious mental peculiarity, somewhat indicative of her habits of extreme literary accu- racy at later periods in life, as well as showing the tenacious grasp of her juvenile memory. While thus repeatmg the pages she had read, on coming, memoriter, to a word which had before cost her some trouble to spell, she would invariably stop to spell it over again, as if the book were actually before her, and then proceed to the end of her recitation. This looks as if she had in a manner unconsciously determined, even at that early day, to be thoroughly faithful to her own powers, and well did she retain and develope this germ of self-fidelity as long as she continued to breathe. When about five years of age, in order to vary her employments and divert her mind from a too exclusive attention to books, a complete little establishment for a doll was furnished, for her use, with every article that could attract her fancy. But she soon tired of companion- ship with such inanimate objects, and although proud and anxious to be employed above her ability in work about the family, she could be inspired with no sort of interest in manufacturing finery for a baby-house. The extreme susceptibility of her feelings prevented her parents from placing her at school until after her tenth year. She was then con- signed to the tuition of A. Bolles, Esq., the most distinguished male teacher of young ladies in Charleston. Here she availed herself with much diligence of her advantages, and laid the foundation of a solid, and accurate education. But the competitions of a school, and the necessarily rigid exactions of its discipline, brought to a temperament like hers more pamful experiences than either pleasures or advantages. She took her fair stand -in a class that had long been initiated in a wide range of studies, preparing her lessons with anxious assiduity. But exer- cises and struggles like these were not the sphere for her timid, sensitive nature. They were found to prey upon her health and to depress her XIV BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. spirits. After remaining about two years at school, she was taken home, where she voluntarily attended to all her le^cons with the most scrupulous exactness, and the family were comforted by seeing her countenance again beam with happiness. Here, then, she began the system of educating herself — a system which every strong mind more or less pursues, and which she exclu- sively prosecuted for several years with uncommon energy and success. Before completing the usual elementary studies, she found herself ac- tuated by an inextinguishable thirst for a far higher character of reading than is generally fancied by young ladies of her age. Her power of application was intense, and soon grew into systematic habit. These passions and tastes increased by continual exercise, and never forsook her until they were driven out by the superior energy of disease and approaching death. She exhibited early a love for the acquisition of foreign languages. A decisive instance at once of her taste and talent consists in the fact that when only about sixteen years of age, she had, with very shght assistance from either friend or teacher, perused in the original, and appreciated with keen satisfaction, the whole four volumes of Sismondi's Ve la Litterature du Midi de I' Europe. These studies Saturally opened the way for others of kindred elevation. She determined on mastering the Italian and the German. While still in appearance but the mere unformed school-giil, she took her long semi-weekly walks to the house of her pastor, who communicated to her the little in those two languages that he possessed. She required no regular tasks or lessons, but grasped at rules and idioms and constructions with her own self-imposing freedom, seeking aid only in occasional niceties and difficulties. Thus passed away the early periods of her sedate and studious youth. Supremely happy in the retreats of her home, where domestic duties engaged her willing hands, and where her interest was constantly grati- fied by the intellectual conversation of friends and visiters, she never manifested a desire for gay society, though it would gladly have wel- comed her Efccession to its fluttering mazes. Among the books she had read, was the Memoir of the celebrated Elizabeth Smith. She devoured it with great delight, and surrendered her imagination and feelings to an example in her own sex so eminently captivating. I am informed by her surviving parent, that Mary once unfolded to her the resolve to take Elizabeth Smith as her pattern in BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. XV life, so far as her circumstances and ability would permit. The knowl- edge of such a resolution gives us, in fact, a key to the peculiarities of her character and the history of her life. It was no mere fit of girlish emulation, but a sympathetic and well-founded consciousness of kindred qualities, that prompted her to adopt so exalted a model. Her aspira- tions were followed up by a steady and persevering course of corres- ponding action. She made the Uterature of the world in large measure tributary to the purposes of her holy ambition, and while furnishing herself with a splendid wealth of accomplishments, she sought to shed forth on other minds the light which she had borrowed, assimilated, or kindled in her own. Genius is seldom destitute of some channel through which to commu- nicate its inspirations to the world. It so happened, that when about twenty years had matured the mind of Mary Lee, and had stored it vrith a wide range of suggestive acquisitions, a little periodical for youth, edited by Mrs. Caroline Oilman, had been recently started in Charleston, under the title oiThe Rose £urf,' which soon after changed its name to The Southern Kose;and aspired to some rank of literary pretension. To the pages of this publication Miss Lee contri- buted her earliest productions, prompted alike by the dictates of generous friendship and of tremulous ambition. Her communications to the Rose Bud for some time attracted no special attention, although they cer- tainly shed here and there uiiquestionable gleams of high poetical merit. They are inserted in the following collection for the most part in the order in which they were originally written and published. The series as it stands has been adopted rather for the sake of indicating the pro- gress of the writer's mind, than of challenging in behalf of them all a uniform degree of admiration. Miss Lee, at all events, escaped the dangers and trials attending a precocious exhibition of talents, and felt her way slowly and securely to that point of progress which she at length happily attained. .,._^ For a considerable time, the signature attached to her pieces was the modest and general one, " A Friend." As they increased in merit, inquiries as to the authorship began to be multiplied, and^^at last her personal relationship to them became so well and favorably knovni, that she discarded the timid disguise, and adopted ever after as a signature in the Rose, the initials " M. E, L." In all other pubhcations, I believe, it was expanded into her full name. Several brilliant and beautiful efiusions now continued to increase her XVI BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. reputation. Among others, "The Lone Star" was admired by every one, so that for a long time the authoress herself, when she was men- tioned in her native city, received generally the name of " The Lone Star." "The BUnd Negro Communican*" gave her something of a national fame, and was copied into religious and other newspapers in every part of the country. /A little note on business, now lying before me, addressed by her to Miss Leslie of Philadelphia, furnishes quite an undesigned evidence of the notice, which was then singling her out from the ordinary mass of contributors to periodicals. She writes — " My Dear Miss Leslie : As you gave place to two rather lengthened poems of mine, in your beautiful "Gift" for 1842, and as the same have received frequent and very flattering mention from several public and many private sources, (among others, I received a letter of commendation from an entire stranger in the Far West,) which I refer to, not in egotism, but because I think you will be glad to feel somewhat warranted for your ready admission of my former attempts, I now enclose a poem foi your next year's Gift," &c. The lines, " To My Father," possess no peculiar brilliancy or con- densation, and are only remarkable lor a sweet and smooth flow of thought, feeling, and versification, inspired by the depth of a most con- fiding alTectiOu. But they are mentioned here, for the sake of introducing the following extract from a billet, written by Miss Lee a few years after their publication, and jugt subsequently to her father's death. It presents so beautiful and unique a picture of paternal fondness, well reciprocated, and is so closely connected with the writings compiled in the present volume, as fairly to deserve a place in this Memoir. Both of the parties concerned being nov/ decea.sed, there can be no indelicacy in publishing it. Wishing to pay some public tribute, from his own pulpit, to the memory of Mr. Lee, who had long been a devoted mem- ber and officer of his church, the writer requested the family, in one of his visits at the time, to furnish him with any facts, incidents or impres- sions, that might give him a more exact insight into the character of the deceased. Soon after, Mary wrote to him as follows: " Sacurday Evening. I felt as if I could not speak freely, this afternoon, of the one subject that engrosses all my sleeping as well as waking moments, but my dear father's spirit seems so very near me, that I teel as if I did wrong to tell as yet many little incidents, which are continually rising in the light of memory, and which might help to elucidate his character. '-«-y-'-* and I were conversmg this morning on one characteristic which was BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIK. XVU Strikingly evolved in him, his extreme modesty and utter distrust of his own goodness ; and we both dwelt, with mournful pleasure, on one little fact which never struck me so strongly as since his loss. You may perhaps remember some lines entitled ' To ^ly Father,' in the Rose a few years back. When they were published, I myself shrunk from having ventured so far as to make him so public, and with deep anxiety waited the issue. Father read the piece when only mother was present, and she told me that he shed many tears over it, remarking that I was too kind, that I estimated him too highly ; but such was his shrinking nature, that he never mentioned it to me, though I saw his emotion in the softened and quivering tones with which he accosted me when we met in the evening circle. Since then, I am led to believe that that piece was secretly very precious to him, for only a few months ago I foimd it in one of his private drawers, put away no doubt by himself Oh I Mr. G., these little memories are nothing to tell of, but very, very precious to me now ; in truth I do not think that I shall ever enjoy writing as I have done ; since father was always the first to praise, and to discover beauties where perhaps there were none ; and constantly, on the publication of any of my pieces, poetry particularly, he would take the first glance at the article before any of us ; then, when all had read it, would take it to his chamber, and then read it over in different modulations of voice, as if to know how best it sounded. Ah ! how often has my heart swelled with delight, when I saw how much my humble efforts pleased him ; and I feel that your kind, trae heart sym- pathises with me, when I thus refer to these domestic scenes ; which are gone never to be again enjoyed save in the blessed privilege of memory. Who would drink, if they could, of the waters of Lethe ? Yours, in joy and sorrow. Mart E. Lee." One disparaging criticism that has been passed upon her poetry, has charged it with too closely rescmbhngthat of Mrs. Hemans. A few of her pieces may give some plausibility to the suggestion, but a discerning examination of all her writings will detect, generally, no closer resem- blance to those of Mrs. Hemans, than would be merely sufficient to rank her in the same poetical school. The truth is, when Miss Lee commenced writing, Mrs. Hemans was at the height of her resplendent fame. Her productions were welcomed and admired by every house- hold in this country. It would, therefore, be strange if a youthful begin- ner in the same art, of a highly susceptible temperament, should not have caught something of the tone, and even some of the expressions, of so popular and captivating a model. .Tohnson and Goldsmith themselves were in a certain degree the imitators of Pope. But each of them pos- sessed, in addition, an individual style of his own. I should say, that XVIU BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. the writers who seemeJ to exert the greatest influence in moulding the mind and forming the style of Miss Lee, were "Wordsworth, Mrs. He- mans, and Mrs. Sigourney. Traces of their manner and spirit are to be found throughout her compositions ; but there is, besides, a certain melancholy and impassioned stiain, breathing forth from the unmingled depths of her heart, which is quite enough her own to separate her from the ordinary herd of imitators. Her cultivation was too wide, her read- ing too multifarious and fervent, to admit of her adopting any exclusive model. After rising from n penisal of her volume, no discriminating reader can imagine that he has been breathing the atmosphere ot Wordsworth, or Mrs. Hemans, or any writer but Mary Lee herself — the accomplished, the elegant, the tender, the lofty aimed, the poetical, the successful votary of English undefiled. On several of her pieces, even among the earliest, there is as pure a stamp of creative originality as is to be found in the effusions of writers of much higher fame. Surely no borrowed tone signahzes that delineation from the 13th chapter of Matthew, and begmning with the line — " Was it on that sacred height ?"* nor from that exquisite gem of poetry, " Corregio's Holy Family," bursting forth with " Picture, why is it that I love thee so ?"t nor from the address "To my Mother,";]; which strikes me as more origi- nal, simple, and touching than the lines " To my Father" before alluded to. A certain lyrical roundness and completeness belonged to the poetical side of her mind, which is plainly evinced in " The Hour of Death,"** the first of her published, and as the family believe, the first of her written pieces, although singularly superior to several that followed. In this she illustrates her subject, to which she clings as fire to the wood, by three happily chosen instances — the powerful monarch, the aged miser, and the innocent young maiden ; and she concludes by compactly summing up the impressions deiived from the several scenes de- scribed, and enforcing an appropriate and wholesome reflection. Who can read " The Babe's First Laugh,"tt and be reminded by it of any author or of any school ? " Why do we fear to die?"tt is also conceived in a pecuharly bold, lyrical, and original vein. The plastic genius of the writer is further evinced in the wide variety of her metres, and the happy adaptation of each to the subject in hand. See, for instance, ♦Page 16. tP. 47. JP. 62. »*P. 1. ftP. 52. XfP- 68. BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIK. XIX " Sabbath Bells," " Summer Clouds," " Light," " They led me on," The Sketch from Matthew XIII., all the Blank Verse Sketches, " The Burial of Dade and his Companions," &c., &c. The very breaks and blanks which occasionally occur, are graceful and expressive. They imply that the writer has given herself up to a train of silent thought, with which we sympathise until she resumes her communications. To quit the topic of mere general form and mould, it may be fiirther asserted, that many a sparkling gem of thought and poetry will well repay a candid perusal of these writings. Several expressions might bear to be minted for common quotation. How speaking is the phrase, " grief's first, endless day," as uttered by a young person called for the first time to mourn ! How strong the image describing the dying exer- cises of Prince Henry — " And memories, intensely cleaj*, advanced in phantura train." How afiecting but delicate is the Prince's rebuke of his absent mother — " My mother, though thou hast misled, I would that I could lie Upon thy breast, and hear thee breathe one prayer before I die." Every person must feel the force of the epigrammatic expression in the same poem — " Alas ! e'en sadder than to part, to be forgot by all." In fact, the whole of " The Deathbed of Prince Henry " is felicitously executed, and treats a well-selected' subject with no small dramatic ability. Only a poetic vision, again, could have conceived the distinct shadowings of reflection, united with a remarkably true description, in these four Unes from " Thoughts during the conflagration of St. Philip's Church"— " Memoilal of my countiy ! sainted pile ! That rearedst thy golden summit to the day, And wor'st on thy pure brow lime's mellow smile, With scarce enough to tell of sad decay." There is a solemn philosophy in the following, from " Stanzas" addressed to a departed friend : — " Grief hath no record, but its coui-se is told By one unceasing gush of silent wo ; And though perchance it yields to time's strong hold, Yet in the soul's deep cell 'twill ever flow, With murmm'3 low." Here is an image from the same, which, if not altogether new, cannot be charged with imitation or triteness. " As some mighty swell Doth part two vessels to one haven bound, So death has come between us." — XX BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. The two subjoined lines from the " Family Parting/' touch the feelings, like a sudden spring, with pensive surprise : " The waniing clock struck nine, the dreaded horn-, That told that all was ready— save their hearts." I remember few invocations to the Deity more sublime than the follow- ing, addressed to Him at Midnight on the last day of the year : " Thou ! that dost sit, Wrapt in thy floating garments of dense cloud And solemn grandeur, on the boundless height Of heaven's majestic summit, at whose base Rolls ever onward, with imceasing force. Eternity's strong current : Thou ! whose name la Love, who dwells't in Love !" In a pictured group of two youthful brothers, there is a very fine dis- crimination of character, and of the respective feelings with which the author regarded them both. For the one, she experienced a trembling anxiety, but in the future course and well-being of the other she had instinctively a sure and pleasing confidence. How often have such contrasted feelings mingled, unexpressed, within all our hearts! This is the passage — and observe, in the image at its close, the transmuting power of tme poetry to dignify the most trivial and familiar topic : " Noble boy ! I never look upon the joyousness That wraps thee, like a sunbeam, but there spring Amid bright fancy's flowers, some thonis of care. Some restless and distuj'bing consciousness. Of what may yet befal thee —But for him. The fawnlike child, that kneels with clustering hair, Of silken texture, parted on his brow, Low at his mother's knee, all must be well ! Over the perfect lustre of his soul. Each stain of earth shall pass, as a soft breath Wiped from the crystal pane, making it seem Yet clearer than before.'' These criticisms are confined to the authors earlier efforts, and are intended to justify what might seem rather an itidiscriminate compila- tion here of her remains. As she advanced in the practice of her favorite art, it will be found that her effusions less needed vindication, and they shall be left to speak for themselves. Not that the compiler is so far blinded by his partiality, as to claim for Miss Lee a rank in the highest order of genius, or that he is insensible to several instances of vagueness and feebleness which might be charged upon her writings. She herself was more conscious of their defects than any one else, and she labored, with the enthusiasm of a true artist, to approach that ideal standard of excellence which shone on her vision from afar. She seems to have BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. XXJt made a conscientious study of her powers, and was anxious to explore those literary veins for which she was best adapted, and to listen to suggestions from every quarter likely to furnish her with profitable advice. The following extract irom one of her letters to a female friend, will explain her feelings on this point, besides demonstrating that she, at least, had formed no overweening estimate of her own produc- tions, but rather, that she placed her estimate too low. " Thanks for some long retained volumes. If you have any new work, large or small, do lend it to me, for I have read nothing for several weeks, being constantly occupied in assisting some needy friends, and just now even a folio would not alarm me. Mr. ***** sent me a message, advising me to write no more on scripture-texts, as I had too long been doing, but pointed out the simple ballad style as being very superiour. Now I have tried one at his suggestion, and want you to say whether I ought ever to try another. It seems to me that my poetry, havmg few new ideas, depends too much on the tinsel of words to risk the unadorned but most expressive ballad. How I dislike to have anybody advise me against my own favorite tastes, and I do like writing from those texts." The predominance of serious and melancholy subjects among the author's themes, may be dismissed with a single remark. No writer throws around such subjects the light of a more cheerful hope, or more habitually reveals the lustre of their bjighter sides. In making the selections for the present volume, the compiler has been in a good degree governed by several lists of her poems, which the authoress herself drew up at different times with an ultimate view to publication. He has omitted a number of fragments and off-hand effusions, which, if they could have been completed by her own polish- ing hand, would have added much to her poetical reputation. There is reason, also, to lament that some of the best, because the latest, of her productions, will have escaped compilation, in consequence of the difficulty of recovering them from the numerous periodicals and deposi- tories where they are buried. They may yet appear in a small volume. Miss Lee's incessant aspirations after perfection in every accomplish- ment, were in nothing more signal than in her studied efforts to acquire a correct style of writing. For many years she published no poem before exhibiting it to the literary friend of her early youth. His criti- cisms were always unsparing ; each questionable phrase, or halting line, or ambiguous rhyme, was faithfully pointed out, and surprising often were the patience, talent, and ingenuity, with which, in availing hersel XXU BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. of his suggestions, she Buiinounted every difficulty and remedied every defect. To prose composition she devoted as much attention as to poetical. Many prefer her writings in the former department, and an edition of them vi^ould no doubt prove alike acceptable to the public and honorable to her name. Her style is characterised by graceful ease and well chosen expressions. /Almost as soon as her first lines had been pub- lished in the Rose Bud, she communicated to that paper the following short essay, which is inserted here as a part of the history of her mind, and to show the practical benevolence and iustructiveness of her aims. •■ A Plan foe Readincj the Sckiptukes. I would ask permission through the medium of your interesting paper, to call the attention of its youthful readers to a careful perusal of the Scriptures ; not as they have been accustomed to read them, (for I trust there are few who allow a single day to pass, without adding one fresh leaf to the plant of piety, whose genial soil is the youthful heart,) but to do so, searching at the same time on their atlases for every place which may be mentioned. In following this plan, they cannot imagine how strongly facts would be impressed on their memories, and how entirely it would remove from the Scriptures all appearance of fiction. I would mention an instance in an intelligent child, who perused with a cheek bathed with tears, the simple yet deeply affecting story of Lazarus ; but whose eye glistened with delight on being shown the very spot where Jesus stood and cried, " Lazarus, come forth." — And such would be the emotions of every child. As they travelled with the youthful Jesus, from Nazareth to Jerusalem ; or stood by the Sea of Galilee and watched the poor fishermen, in that conflict, in which they resolved to leave all, and follow him ; or entered into Jerusalem, and exclaimed with the multitudes, ' Hosannah in the highest ;' as they ascended the Mount of Olives, and heard his meek prayer, * Father, forgive them ;' or stood in the gloom and silence ot Calvary, and witnessed that most sublime instance of fihal affection, exhibited for their feeble imitation, in those touching words, ' Woman, behold thy Son ;' or in every other spot, connected with events the most affecting and astonishing, their hearts would be doubly impressed with the truths and realities of the Gospel, and in a short time they would be able to trace the exact route of the Saviour's journeyings. Let them be persuaded, then, to attempt the plan pro- posed, assured that it has proved, hijghly advantageous to oney-wh»-ean cordially^ubseribe herself u rCf Cifif'l ' ffv«. k^J" A -F-KHSB." This was followed by several other essays in the same periodical, among which were a few original tales and well executed translations. About this time, the Board of Education for the enlightened State of Massachusetts, were ctisirous of introducing into the school-libraries of that commonwealth a series of original works on various subje^s of BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. XXUl science, literature, and art. They tendered, either in their own name, or in that of their agents, considerable compensations for the best written books adapted to the end in view. Miss Lee's attention was no sooner drawn to this proposal, than she resolved to become a candidate for one of the offered prizes. The idea was particularly attractive to her, as it involved ber possible usefulness to others, and might connect her with the cause of improvement in education. She chose for the form of her lucubrations a series of narrative sketches from history, and she had the happiness of finding her effort crowned with success. Her book, which was entitled " Social Evenings, or 4Iistorical Tales for Youth," was received and placed upon the Catalogue of the Massachusetts School Library, and I have been informed by the publishers that it is one of the most popular and useful on their list. Thousands of juvenile readers, in Massachusetts and elsewhere, who probably never heard of Miss Lee as a poetess, have derived gratification and amusement from this merit- orious little production bearing her name, ^..^fie siyle is at biice cEaite and vivacious, the topics are selected from a wide range of national histories, indicating a great amount of reading, the poetical illustrations, chiefly by the writer herself, are numerous and beautiful, the pathos is genuine, the characters are marked, and the whole structure of the work exhibits talents of a high order. Eight evenings are supposed to be occupied by a little youthful circle in listening to an experienced friend, who reads to them the successive tales. Each "Evening" is preceded by some animated, descriptive scene, involving throughout the book n. separate narrative thread of affecting interest, thus serving to vary the attention, to make the necessary transitions from subject to subject, an4. to combine the different parts into one harmonious whole^TISaow no book of the class, more likely to inaintain a lasting reputation, or better adapted to convey a mingled entertainment and instruction to the youth- ful mind. These are the titles of the different evenings : — FmsT Evening, — The Good Protestants — an English Tale. Second Evening, — The Young Botanist — a Swedish Tale. Third Evening, — ^The Little Greeks — a Turkish Tale. FotTRTH Evening, — The Patriot's Trial-^a Swiss Tale. Fifth Evening, — The Stolen Boy — an Austrian Tale. Sixth Evening, — The Captive Pair — a Spanish Tale. Seventh Evening, — The Golden Arrow — a Russian Tale. Eighth Evening, — The Unfortunate Prince — a French Tale. These are preceded by " The Vacation," and terminated by ■' The XxiV BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. Conclusion." The following extract from near the beginning, will ( an idea of the book, and justify, it is believed, the foregoing favor! ... ' r'y-^ ^ criticisms. / < V n :.•. ■ '. i ^ A ,1 " God meant that each family on earth should be a small plane system in itself. The parents may be compared to the blessed, giving sun, diffusing animation throughout ; the dder children, to primary pUinets, which move so lovingly arounfl that sun ; and younger, those troublesome but precious playthings, what should ) be, but the little asteroids, travelling in eccentric orbits, and ha counted at all, but which really dj'ink in as much life and light aa of the superior planets? Such a family was Mr. Seymour's. ' parents were never so happy as when they were imparting pleasuri their children ; and the>children, on their part, though^often giddy careless, were so affectionate, loving, and united ; so cheerful and of intelligence, that Mrs. Seymour, when once asked by a visiter wh er she cultivated choice flowers, pointed to the merry group, who spo in the garden, and, with a moistened glance, replied, ' Yonder are most precious flowers ; they form a bouquet that will never fade.' j truly she had a treasure in her young Julia. She was not beauti indeed, a passing stranger would have called her homely ; but no could look on her rounded, rosy face ; her loving, laughing eyes; good-natured smile that continually nestled in a dimple on either ch like a dew-drop in a rose's cup ; and, more than all, the ever-wa' hands, that seemed eager to lend aid to any body that needed, and 1 not say, ' She is lovely.' Yes ! young readers, although ray heroine's eyes were gray, and complexion rather dark, and her mouth rather large, yet I assure y' once heard a gentleman, and a good judge of beauty too, exclain he watched my sweet friend, busily engaged in dressing the little I with her name-sakes, roses, ' What a beautiful countenance Juha 1: And often/now, when she visits me, I find soraething, ' In her clear and ready smile, Unshatlowed by athoucjht of guile, And unrepressed by sadness, — Which brings me to ray cljildhood back, As if I trod its very track, And felt Its veiy gladness.' And at such times I cannot help ownli^ that there is a loveliness, li lier far than that of form or feature, the charm produced by a g€ spirit and kindly feelings." In the mean time, her literary labors and successes were advancin every direction. As she was desirous of maintaining for herseli honorable independence, she supplied continual contributions to sev widely circulated magazines. rThis may to some appear, at first si BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. XXV no very signal mark of literary merit. But when we recollect that most of these magazines have generally on hand a full year's supply of accepted matter, and that they have favorite writers who are always ready to labor for the forthcoming reward, it surely implies consider- able ability in an unknown young lady, from a remote part of ihe country, to have become in a short time a successful competitor against such heavy odds, and to have found herself received and recorded as a regular contributor among the most popular essayists of the time. From an account kept in 1845, it appears that the sum received by her in that yearfrom the editors of different journals, represented an hun- dred large pages of prose and poetry, at a time, too, wheu constant and intense pain prevented the free use of her hands. In some preceding years, when her health was less impaired, and her industry less inter- rupted, her receipts must have swollen to considerably more than that amount/ The journals and annuals for which she wrote in 1 846 , were, tGraliam's Magazine, Godey's Lady's Book, New-Orleans Miscellany, ^Philadelphia Courier, Token, Gem, Gift, Mr. Whitaker's Journal, Southern Literary Messenger, and Orion Magazine,*^he wrote much for which she never received any compensation, having her full and strange share of that experience, which discovers a wide chasm between promise and performance. Her favorite field of toil in the direction just indicated, was that of translation. In this she brought to available use her original propensity for the study of foreign languages, which had so early engaged her mental activity. She ransacked the stores of modem French, Italian, and German literature, to furnish fitting material for her industrious pen. With her usual conscientious disdain of being superficial, she engaged a teacher in the German language, although her knowledge of It was already sufficient for the purpose of translating popular tales, which not one reader in a thousand would ever think of comparing with the originals. Under the direction of this teacher, she labored assiduously for one or two years, not satisfied with reading German into English, but critically studying the grammar of the language, learning to speak it with some fluency, and even going so far as to practise the peculiar German chirography. One of her notes written at this period concludes thus :—" Won't you excuse this badly written note, when I tell you that I have been plunged, since five this morning, deep in the intiicacies of German syntax and German current-hand? B XXrl BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. I am coming on so delightfully, that I want to read ior you, as my J teacher, some of these days, one of Uh land's beautiful ballads."* These incessant, but practical strivings after an ideal, minute per: tion so essentially formed the individuality of Miss Lee's character, 1 I cannot forbear recording here a few other instances of the same ti unconnected with literature, not doubting that they will meet the gee ous sympathy of the reader, and awaken similar elevated breathing many a kindred bosom. While to all appearance entirely absorbed literary pursuits, she devoted much of her attention to painting, ; became no slight proficient in that engaging art. Despite the us prejudice regarding literary ladies, she was a thorough adept in mysteries of housekeeping, and no professed artiste ever prepared m exquisite conserves than those which proceeded from her skilful hat Even as to the article of dress the same tendency in her was ohserva for without indulging in gaudiness or extravagance, she exhibited, in apparel, a studied richness and elegance, which, without encroach on an entire simplicity and propriety, savored at once of her poeti nature and her habitual aspirings after the perfect. To every useful economic art within the compass of a lady's capacity, she turned hand with admirable adroitness. Her achievements with the nee especially, extended far beyond the usual routine of that busy implem( In conversation, her manner, which was rather rapid, was sprightly ; interesting. Her observations were full of enthusiasm for everyth beautiful and good ; and a keen sense of the ludicrous, with wh nature had endowed her, was employed hut rarely and in very seclui intimacy. She was a successful cultivator of the finest fruits and flc *An aflFecting testimony was rendered at once to her memoiy and to her ] ficiency in the German, by a letter received by the family some months after death, from a German, who had been in the habit of loaning her books in language to read. The writer of it was othenvise an entire stranger to the fan The letter encloses a poetical tribute to his friend, with a request that, since had conferred so much honor on his native language, it might be inserted in of the interesting German vohunes of her library. He at the same time ackm edges his indebtedness to her own writings in impaj'ting to him an acquaintn with the English tongue. The following translation of the lines, which were wri in German, may convey something of the tone of the original, as well as betra some degi'ee also their national origin. Mary, too soon, too soon, thou wing'st thy flight, And leav'st full many a heart in deepest gloom ; Soft be thy rest, and let thy turf lie light, Till thou Shalt gi-asp yon crown beyond the tomb. Bui-sts on oui- vision, like the morning star. The blessed thought, we yet shall see thy face ; Heaven opes, and lo ! fair gl aming from afar, Our angel " JVIaiy " in her Lord's embrace ! BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. XXVii ers, and as it would have been a questionable approach to perfection to cultivate these only for her home, we find her almost daily sending them to friends, neighbors, and acquaintances, as far as this horizon of kind attentions could well extend. Many a little note from her has been treasured up, couched in such expressions as these : — " I hope my flow- ers will reach you as fresh as the love I send along with them." It was her constant habit to inquire into the condition of the sick poor in her neighborhood, and a portion of each day, particularly during the sickly season, was employed in preparing for them, with her own hands, both sustenance and comforts, which she usually distributed under the direc- tion of thejr physician. Such is the history of her promising and beautiful life, until she arrived at the age of about thirty years. She had established an enviable repu- tation in literature, and she saw it annually extending and rising, so as to gratify every reasonable wish of her heart. She was in the possession of an elegant and increasing library, the fruit of her own talents and menial exertions. Thus she had every inducement and encouragement to devote herself specifically to a life of literature, had she been sum- moned to it by the voice of Providence. Her expectations were also kindled by plans of more direct usefulness, among which was the most thorough education, by herself, of a lovely juvenile relative. Hitherto, her health had in general been sound, with the exception of some ner- vous derangements, which occasionally became positively neuralgic. These affeetions had no doubt concurred with her naturally retiring disposition to create in her a distaste for general society. Yet still she vividly sympathised in all that interested the busy world around her, and she formed the delight and pride of the more contracted circle in which she chose to move. And now commenced the inroads of a most painful and mysterious disease, which baffled the skill of the ablest physicians, and after re- peated attacks and retreats, sometimes reducing her to the very verge of dissolution, and then permitting her partially to resume her ordinary occupations and enjoyments, at length conquered her exhausted nature, and released her from the agonizing warfare. Her character, however, in every respect, seemed to rise with these intensities of pressure. They only called out from it new and unex- pected beauties and energies. She still prosecuted her literary engage- ments with a vigour which she could scarcely have surpassed in perfect health. We have already seen how much she accomplished in a single XXVlll BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. year (1845) while laboring under disease, and even when deprived of the use of her hands. As an instance of her indomitable resolution, it deserves to be recorded that the progress of her malady having paralys- ed or otherwise disabled her right arm and hand, she immediately com- menced the practice of writing with her left, and in that way covered many quires of paper with the mute but expressive memorials of her suffering. She had, indeed, u faithful and loving amanuensis besides, who assisted in her larger tasks of writing and transcribing. I have in my possession three Sonnets written by Miss Lee under these cir- cumstances, and sent to me, not to correct or criticise, for she had now arrived at a stage of culture which no longer required that kind of as- sistance, but simply as an expression of her friendship, and an appeal to my solemn sympathy. By -the favour of the publishers, I am enabled to present a facsimile of the chirography of the first, believing that the reader will be interested in witnessing her mode of mechanically conquering difficulty. The whole of them are subjoined in ordinary type, since the three together constitute the most speaking illustration I could present of this period of her life. I need suggest to no reader of taste and sensibility the sublime pathos, the profoundly religious spirit, the nearly perfect flow of diction and of poetry, condensed into this exqui- site trio of sonnets, nor the consequent value of the precious relique to its possessor. SONNETS WRITTEN DURING ILLNESS. Oh, gladsome Health ! host thou no bright smile left For me, whom sickness hath so harshly wrung? Nowhispei-ed hope to speak me notberort Of all, th.-it makes the inner spij-it young 1 Wears my life's sky forG\ er on its lace, Clouds, seldom by joy's blessed sunshine riven ? Have the rich summer flowei's for me no grace, Is there no freshness in the breath of heaven? Alas for my sad lot, if it must be That health, that angel robed in earthly guise, No longer heeds my cry of iigony. Nor longer turns on me her radiant eyes, But hurries by, with li'.,'ht, elastic tread, Careless of one, perchance soon to be numbered with the dead. II. Away, despondent thought ! I will not yield My gift of being to this blank despaii', Noi- have each gushing fount of feeling sealed To the sweel influence of hope's wholesome ail- • * See autograph of this Sozmet on opposite page. W- m^ IjlaJo 'Vf^JAjksJ^ W^ vwuuw >6laTa^/K yp*^ / lUfiAii WM^i t|