The bar then boasted of many vigorous minds; but, excepting her relative, John Adams, but few had written to enlighten mankind. There was a good share of talent shown in the dissertations of the great political questions, which then agitated the colonies; but this could not interest very deeply a young woman, as she was then. Most lawyers had confined themselves to the strict duties of their profession, and to constitutional questions; and physicians had ventured but a few steps beyond their prescribed bounds. A few literary men had just risen above the horizon. Dwight, Trumbull, Green, Mrs. Warren, and some others, had written some popular works, but still there was no literary community; she had, of course no school to follow, and never thought of imitating any one, in the republic of letters. The English classics, which she read, formed her style, and whoever has passed his days and nights upon Milton, Young, Pope, Addison, Thomson, and others of that school, has seldom made a bad writer. Although she never did, yet she had a right to ascribe her fortune to her merits, virtue, and mind; she had no beauty or sprightliness to set off her acquirements. Her face was intellectual, and her head well formed, but her person could never have been commanding. That one of no graces of person, or charm of manners, should have inspired so much respect and deference, could only be accounted for by the fact, that she lived among those who would, and did, appreciate talents, acquirements, and moral worth. Her prudence was her greatest characteristic, and she was so entirely under the control of this often neglected divinity, that it is doubtful whether she ever uttered an offensive sentence in her life, however much excited by plagiarists or rivals. In her religious opinions she was sincere and circumspect. She gives her creed in her autobiography, a most modest production, with singular felicity, and so precisely in keeping with her char acter, that we cannot refrain from making the extract.

"I have already mentioned the perplexity and embarrassment of my mind, while writing my views of religion. After coming to Boston and residing in that city, while the disputes upon unitarian sentiments were warmly agitated, I read all that came in my way, upon both sides of the question, and carefully examined

the New Testament, with, I think, a sincere and ardent desire to know the truth. I deeply felt the difficulties on both sides of the question, yet prevailingly gave the preference to that class of unitarians who adopt the highest ideas of the greatness and dignity of the Son of God. I have never arrived to that degree of decision which some have attained on this subject. In this, and every other disputable subject, I would adopt the following lines.

'If I am right, thy grace impart,

Still in the right to stay,

If I am wrong, O teach my heart
To find the better way.'

The future traveller as he pauses to mourn over the remains of Hannah Adams, the first inhabitant of Mount Auburn, the new city of the dead, will go back to the age in which she flourished, and while calling to mind her merits, his bosom will thrill with gratitude to those who saw and cherished them.

MARIA CAJETANA AGNESI, an Italian lady of great learning, was born at Milan, March 16th, 1718. Her inclinations, from her earliest youth, led her to the study of science; and at an age when young persons of her sex attend only to frivolous pursuits, she had made such astonishing progress in mathematics, that when, in 1750, her father, professor in the university of Bologna, was unable to continue his lectures, from infirm health, she obtained permission from the pope, Benedict XIV., to fill his chair. Before this, at the early age of nineteen, she had supported one hundred and ninety-one theses, which were published, in 1738, under the title "Propositiones Philosophicæ." She was mistress of Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, German, and Spanish. At length she gave up her studies, and went into the monastery of the Blue Nuns, at Milan, where she died, January 9th, 1799. In 1740, she published a discourse, tending to prove, "that the study of the liberal arts is not incompatable with the understandings of women.' This was written when she was very young; she wrote upon mathematics of a high order; fluxions and analytics. The commentators of Newton were acquainted with her mathe

matical works, while they were in manuscript. In 1801, these works were published in two volumes, at the expense of Mr. Baron Maseres, to do honor to her memory, and to prove that women have minds capable of comprehending the most abstruse studies. Her eulogy was pronounced by Frisi, and translated into French by Boulard. It should be translated into English; there are now many young ladies in our schools, capable of the task.

HARRIET ACLAND, wife of Major Acland, an officer in Burgoyne's army, is a name familiar to the ear of American readers. Lady Harriet accompanied her husband in the disastrous campaign of 1777, from Canada to Saratoga. In the battle of Stillwater, October 7th, 1777, her husband commanded the grenadiers of the British army, and bravely sustained the attack upon his forces, until he was overpowered by numbers; his corps retreated, and left him wounded on the field, he having been shot through the legs. While in this situation, he was saved from an American soldier, who had marked him for plunder, by General, then Major, Wilkinson, who had the gallant officer removed to a place of safety, and medical care. His noble' wife, hearing that he was wounded, sought the American camp in an open boat, attended only by the chaplain of her husband's regiment, and the oarsmen of the boat. She came with a letter from General Burgoyne, stating her character, and her wishes. This letter from the commander of the British forces, considering the time and circumstances in which it was written, has been considered a most elegant composition. She was with her husband at Cambridge, when the troops were quartered in that place, under the convention of surrender, made between the two forces at Saratoga. Lady Harriet was much admired for the ease and elegance of her manners, and assisted to settle many little dif ferences, which arose between the conquerors and the captives, springing, probably, from the irritation of those who were mortified at their situation.

She returned to England with her husband, where new evils awaited her. The officers in England, who had never fought in America, had the same opinion of the want of courage and

ability in the colonial forces, as Burgoyne had before he had tested their prowess. The brave officers who had the misfortune to be taken with this army, were often annoyed by indirect aspersion upon themselves, in the form of attacks upon the bra very of American troops. It was felt and resented by every one of that army, from the highest to the lowest. A lieutenant Lloyd, at some convivial party, rung the changes upon American cowardice, which Major Acland, both in justice to the corps he had commanded at Stillwater, and to the brave foe he encoun tered, gave the lieutenant the lie direct. A duel was the consequence; and Major Acland fell at the first fire of his antagonist, deeply lamented at home and abroad. On the reception of this sad news, lady Harriet lost her senses, and life became a blank to her for two years or more; when, by reason of the strength of her constitution, she recovered, and was again restored to society. The good man, who had accompanied her when she sought her wounded husband on the night of the seventh of October 1777, never deserted her in this great misfortune; and on her recovery she left the gay world, and in gratitude, gave her hand to Mr. Brudenell, a very worthy clergyman. Lady Har riet outlived her second husband for many years, and died not long since, in a good old age. The anecdotes of that campaign would fill many volumes. The baroness of Reidesel has published a graphic account of the battle. Her husband com manded the German troops under Burgoyne. The foreign troops had been led to think that the American war would be only a pastime; and when it was over, and that would be speedily, the lands and other property of their foes, would be shared among them for their valor. They were taught a sad lesson by experience.

PHEBE H. ABBOT, wife of Captain Henry Abbot, of Andover, in Massachusetts, was born in that place in 1746. Her maiden name was Abbot. Those of the name were descendants of the first settlers of the town. She was much younger than her husband, who died in 1805, in the eighty sixth year of his age. He was a wealthy yeoman, and a fine specimen of New England

commonwealths-men in her former days. He did many things because his father had done them; and he did many others, because he thought them among his duties, as a freeman, inheriting the property of a freeman. He commanded a militia company, and marched with spirit and alacrity, when he heard that the Indians had invaded the frontiers, to chastise their insolence; and during the revolutionary war, he was ready to take his part in the deliverence of his country. He paid his taxes cheerfully, when his property was assessed; and he turned all he had to the best account for himself and his country. He, like others, lost the earnings of many hard days labor, by the depreciation of continental money, a stain on the name of our、 country's justice; but after the peace, his industry soon made him forget his losses. Mrs. Abbot managed her household affairs with great exactness and economy, but still with liberality. Her table was bountiful, without any parade. Not a crumb was lost, not an ingredient misapplied. Her eye was upon every thing; every measure of meal was weighed, every flask of oil was measured, and her calculations never failed. She had not a large family of her own, only two sons and one daughter; and the eldest son was not much at home, having been educated at Harvard University: but their large farm and mansion house was fitted for boarders, and when Phillips founded his academy in that town, he stipulated with the best families of the parish, that each should receive students as boarders, according to the accommodations they possessed. Captain Abbot had the means of accommodating a half dozen, or more, without any inconvenience, and he paid a most religious regard to his engagement. In this family, students were provided with good and wholesome food, spacious rooms, and plenty of fuel; and they were taken care of as children. No fond mother could be more attentive to the health, morals, and habits of her offspring, than Mrs. Abbot was to those under her care. It was considered a fortunate affair to get into her family. She was exact, but not rigid; economical, but liberal. The household affairs were all managed without bustle, that no boy might plead an excuse that he was interrupted in his studies by the noise of the spinning