and fluency as if it had been her native tongue. Nor did these acquisitions absorb her whole attention; a nobler field was opened to the exercise of her mental faculties. She now began to read Euclid's Elements, and proceeded in algebra as far as quadratic equations. Thus prepared, she advanced with ardour to the study of natural philosophy; but, not content with the sober truths there unfolded, she soared to the heights of metaphysics, and engaged in the most abstruse and intricate disquisitions of that contentious science.

After the young lady had attained the age of fourteen, her father, anxious to second her ardour for improvement, and willing to gratify her ambition for literary distinction, invited occasionally to his house a number of persons, the most respectable in Milan by their rank and learning. In the midst of this grave auditory, Donna Agnesi made her appearance, and without resigning the native delicacy of her sex, she maintained a new thesis on various difficult parts of philosophy, and handled the arguments with such dexterity and commanding eloquence, as singly to vanquish every opponent that entered the field of controversy. These disputations were carried on, all of them, in the Latin language, which she spoke with the utmost ease, purity, and copious elegance. Everything conspired to heighten the impression produced on the admiring spectators. In the full bloom of youth, her person agreeable, her manner graceful, an air of gentleness and modesty gave irresistible charms to her whole demeanour.

Such, for several years, was the great theatre of her glory. But having nearly completed the circle of philosophy, and exhausted the chief topics of discussion, she resolved at length to close that career with a solemnity suitable to the occasion. In the year 1738, at the age of twenty, Agnesi made her last brilliant display before an august assembly, composed of the most learned and illustrious of the Milanese nobility, the senators and foreign ministers, with the most distinguished professors in all the branches of science and literature. The substance of these philosophical conferences was afterwards published in a quarto volume, in Latin.

Agnesi now bent her whole attention to the culture of mathematics; and without guide or assistance, she composed a very useful commentary on L'Hospital's Conic Sections, which is said still to exist in manuscript. In the sublimer departments of that science, her studies were directed by the matured experience of Rampinelli, Professor of Mathematics in the University of Pisa; but she soon gave proofs of her amazing proficiency in digesting a complete body of the modern calculus. This excellent work, entitled, "Analytical Institutions for the Use of the Italian Youth," appeared in 1748, in two volumes, quarto, and was highly esteemed by the judges, and justly regarded as exhibiting the fullest and clearest views of the state of the science at that period. She was, in consequence, elected by acclamation a member of the Institute of Science of Bologna; and the Pope farther conferred on her the title of Professor of Mathematics in the university of that city.

But Agnesi was already sated with literary fame. That sun which in its ascent had shone forth with such dazzling radiance, was, through the rest of its course, shrouded in clouds and darkness. The fever of genius had preyed on her mind, and the high fit of excitement was quickly succeeded by a hopeless depression of spirits. She repelled the seductions of human learning, and abandoned for ever her favourite mathematical pursuits. Renouncing the vanities of this world, she withdrew from society, embraced a life of religious seclusion, and sunk by degrees into the languor of religious melancholy. She studied nothing but Hebrew, and the rhapsodies of the Greek fathers of the Church. For upwards of twenty years she denied all access to strangers. Indulging that gloomy temper, she retired into a convent, and assumed the habit of a nun. She sought to forget the world, and was herself forgotten.

"And what, alas! is human fame

To woman's heart? A cold, vain word,
Impalpable as air—a name

For feeling blighted, hope deferred,
Visions o'crshaded, thoughts that steal

The secrets of the Leart away;

For all that lofty souls may feel
When, in their prison-house of clay,
They half reveal their holier light,

And cast abroad the splendour given
To burn but in the Giver's sight,

Upon the altar-shrine of heaven."

Let us hope that Maria Agnesi, with her wonderful talents, was not left without the consolations of true religion. Let us believe, that during that long and gloomy seclusion, there were occasional bright revealings of a world of purity and happiness, and that her clear and comprehensive mind, though shackled by a false and erring creed, shook off at last its trammels, and rejoiced in the glorious liberty of a true follower of Jesus Christ.

To this bright but melancholy example of genius, we add one from our own age, far more lovely and attractive, and worthier of imitation-one "early loved, and early lost;" whose memory has been embalmed in a sweet memorial, written by a lady, her intimate friend. The close of her life furnishes a striking contrast to that of the gifted Maria Agnesi.

"Hers was a mind entirely unlike that of common characters, peculiarly individual in its nature. It was a clear, vigorous, and well-balanced mind. There was great maturity, independence, and discrimination, in her habits of thought; and an enlargement of views, that led her to examine a subject in all its bearings.

"She had true poetic genius, and early manifested it. The world in which her imagination lived was altogether a different place from that inhabited by common minds, for it was peopled with the bright and beautiful creations of her own genius.

"But, notwithstanding her poetic temperament, she applied herself closely to study, and made high and various attainments. And she preferred those studies that taxed her powers to the utmost, and required the deepest reflection.

"Some have supposed that she studied so hard as to injure her health; her friends consider this a mistake.

She almost invariably exercised great judgment and discretion in regard to the amount of time she devoted to study. She did not spend so great a proportion of each day in study as many scholars do; but she had an uncommon power of abstraction, and when she studied, she applied herself to it closely and in earnest.

"She never entertained that absurd notion, which is too prevalent among young ladies, that her education was completed when she left school. She felt then that she had taken only the first step in the pursuit of knowledge, and saw before her with delight—

'The varied fields of science, ever new,

Opening, and wider opening to the view;'

and she went on, through life, with unwearied perseverance in the acquisition of valuable knowledge. Mathematics and mental philosophy were decidedly her favourite early studies. In mathematics she had pursued a very thorough course through trigonometry. In mental phi

losophy she had studied with care the works of Stewart and Brown, and in the latter part of her life, Edwards on the Will, and some of the works of Coleridge. From the last mentioned author she thought she derived much more benefit than from either of the others. But her study of mental philosophy did not consist merely in collecting various opinions and theories from books. It was rather deep and patient thought, enlivened occasionally by an animated discussion of difficult points with some intimate friend.

"She had a good knowledge of Latin, and had read numerous authors in that language. Those who are best qualified to judge, spoke of her knowledge of Greek as being considerable. She had studied with great interest a part of the works of Xenophon, Homer, and Plato, and parts of the Greek New Testament. She read French with great ease. During the last few months of her life, she acquired some knowledge of German, and was greatly interested in and delighted with this language. She said, in a letter to a friend, written shortly after she commenced the study-'I

do not know why it is, but the German words are completely fixed in my memory. Indeed, there is something in the German that fastens itself upon the mind strangely.'

"She occasionally had some doubts in regard to the utility of her studies; and, once or twice, thought of giving them up partially or entirely.

"These scruples soon vanished. She thus writes to her friend: You will smile when I tell you that I have commenced studying again, with great zeal. I have discovered one thing, at least: that is, that some hard study, every day, is absolutely necessary for my health; and while I study Phædo and the Tusculan Questions, I think my conscience will not trouble me any more on that score. The more I read Plato and Cicero, the more I am convinced that I may study them with profit.'

"In another letter she writes:-'I lately met with a sentiment, in a piece of Dana's, which I know will delight you; at least if you dwell upon it a moment or two, for its most obvious meaning is not the most striking: "Religion ought to be the home of our thoughts." Is it not beautiful? How like the sweet soothing feelings, which fill our hearts when we return to our homes, are those which steal upon us with the thoughts of the love and mercy of our Almighty Father! There is rest and peace for the weary mind, and balm and warmth for the chilled and wounded affections.' It was but a few weeks after she wrote this, that she went to dwell for ever among the invisible realities that had long been the home of her thoughts.

'So should we live, that every hour
May die as dies the natural flower-
A self-reviving thing of power;

That every thought and every deed
May hold within itself the seed
Of future good and future meed.""