The warm friendship of the Bishop of St. Asaph, Dr. Luxmoore, was a great boon to Mrs. Hemans.  He was always ready with his advice and his support; and she found them of singular benefit in her comparatively lonely position.  The bishop’s palace was like a second home.  There she and her children were always welcome.  Of like value was the friendship of another who was also destined to have a place on the episcopal bench.  Reginald Heber was a frequent visitor at the residence of his father-in-law, the Dean of St. Asaph.  He soon became deeply interested in the welfare of Mrs. Hemans.  She found in him one whose counsel, especially in literary matters, was of the utmost value.  His suggestions and encouragement supplied just what she wanted.  Any one who reads his hints with regard to her contemplated poem “Superstition and Revelation” will know how full and painstaking was the trouble he took to assist his friend.

The design of the poem to which reference has just been made was a grand one.  It is best described in her own words:  “Might not a poem of some extent and importance, if the execution were at all equal to the design, be produced, from contrasting the spirit and tenets of Paganism with those of Christianity?  It would contain, of course, much classical allusion; and all the graceful and sportive fictions of ancient Greece and Italy, as well as the superstitions of more barbarous climes, might be introduced, to prove how little consolation they could convey in the hour of affliction, or hope in that of death.  Many scenes from history might be portrayed in illustration of this idea; and the certainty of a future state, and of the immortality of the soul, which we derive from revelation, are surely subjects for poetry of the highest class.”  The poem was commenced, but never completed.  It was pressed out by other undertakings.

V.

THE HOME IN WALES.

Mrs. Hemans found peculiar pleasure in reading and speaking German.  “I am so delighted,” she wrote, “when I meet with any one who knows and loves my favourite scelenvolle (full of soul) German, that I believe I could talk of it for ever.”  Her sister remarks that her knowledge of the language seemed almost as if it had been born with her.

The poetess could write humorous prose as well as serious verse.  Some of her letters written in 1822 give a very amusing description of the inconveniences she had to put up with whilst certain alterations were being made at Bronwylfa.  She describes how at last she was driven to seek refuge in the laundry, from which classical locality, she was wont to say, it could be no wonder if sadly mangled lines were to issue.  “I entreat you to pity me.  I am actually in the melancholy situation of Lord Byron’s ’scorpion girt by fire’—­her circle narrowing as she goes—­for I have been pursued by the household troops through every room successively, and begin to think of establishing