Island Book,” consisting of selections of prose and verse from the writers of that State, and including several pieces of her own. She subsequently spent some time in Philadelphia, where her poetical abilities attracted much attention, and gained for her the friendship and encouragement of many persons of distinction; among others, of Fanny Kemble, then in the zenith of her popularity. Several of her poems were contributed to the “Gift” in 1845, also a long chapter in prose called “Leaves from the Diary of a Recluse.”
For the last eight or nine years she has lived in the city of New York. In this period she has contributed to the current literature of the day, both in prose and verse. A collection of her poems was published in 1848, in a small quarto, elegantly illustrated with original designs by Huntington, Cheney, Darley, Durand, Rothermel, Rossiter, Cushman, Brown, and Winner.
The combination of the social element with the pursuits of literature and art, is a problem to which Miss Lynch has given a practical solution, and by which she has gained her chief celebrity. She has for many years opened her house on every Saturday evening to ladies and gentlemen of her acquaintance, connected with literature or the fine arts. Men and women of genius here meet, very much as merchants meet on ’Change, without ceremony, and for the exchange of thought. They pass together two hours in conversation, music, song, sometimes recitation, and disperse without eating or drinking, nothing in the shape of material refreshment being ever offered. At no place of concourse, it is said, is one so sure to see the leading celebrities of the town. I give two sketches of these soirées, the first from a writer—evidently a woman—in Neal’s Gazette, the second from the pen of Miss Sedgwick:
“At her brilliant Saturday evening reunions one may see all who are in any way distinguished for scientific, artistic, or literary attainments, mingled with a band of fine appreciating spirits, who are content with that power of appreciation, and whose social position shows at once the high station which Miss Lynch has won by her merits as a woman and a scholar.
“One of these same reunions would be the realization of many a schoolgirl’s dream of happiness. We can almost see the young neophyte of authorland nestled in some sheltering recess, or shrouded by benevolent drapery, and gazing with wonder and admiration on those whose words have long been the companions of her solitary hours.
“‘Can that really be Mrs. Osgood?’ she would exclaim, as a light figure glided before her retirement.
“‘Is that truly Mrs. Oakes Smith on the sofa beside Mrs. Hewitt? Grace Greenwood! how I have longed to see her, and Darley, Willis, Bayard Taylor, ah! me,’ and the sweet eyes would grow weary with watching the bright constellation, and the little hands clasp each other
