Of sleeping infancy's light dream;
Like lightning on a summer's eve,
It sheds a soft and pensive gleam.
And tells of happiness within;
It smiles what it can never speak,—
A human heart devoid of sin."
"Soon after her marriage," says Mrs. Davidson, "her sister, Mrs. Townsend, removed to Canada; and many circumstances combined to interrupt her literary pursuits, and call forth, not only the energies of her mind but to develop the filial devotion and total sacrifice of all selfish feelings, which gave a new and elevated tone to her character, and showed us that there was no gratification, either in pursuance of mental improvement, or personal ease, but must bend to her high standard of filial duty." Her mother was very ill, and to add to the calamity, her monthly nurse was taken sick, and left her; the infant, too, was ill. Lucretia sustained her multiplied cares with firmness and efficiency: the conviction that she was doing her duty gave her strength almost preternatural. I shall again quote her mother's words, for I fear to enfeeble, by any version of my own, the beautiful example of this conscientious little being. "Lucretia astonished us all; she took her station in my sick-room, and devoted herself wholly to the mother and the child; and when my recovery became doubtful, instead of resigning herself to grief, her exertions were redoubled, not only for the comfort of the sick, but she was an angel of conso-
