But it is our wish to do full justice to Miss Barrett's extraordinary merits, and to convey to our readers a favourable impression of her powers; and therefore we shall say no more at present about the "Drama of Exile," but shall turn our attention to some of the fairer and less questionable manifestations of her genius. We shall commence with her sonnets; for these appear to us to be by far the most finished of her compositions in point of style; and in depth and purity of sentiment, we think that they surpass any thing she has ever written, with the exception of the poem entitled "Bertha in the Lane," which we shall quote hereafter. As our first specimen, we select one which she entitles DISCONTENT. "Light human nature is too lightly tost And ruffled without cause; complaining on-- Restless with rest--until, being overthrown, It learneth to lie quiet. Let a frost Or a small wasp have crept to the innermost Of our ripe peach; or let the wilful sun Shine westward of our window,--straight we run A furlong's sigh, as if the world were lost. But what time through the heart and through the brain God hath transfix'd us--we, so moved before, Attain to a calm! Ay, shouldering weights of pain, We anchor in deep waters, safe from shore; And hear, submissive, o'er the stormy main, God's charter'd judgments walk for evermore." Yes; we fear it is too true that the voice of God never speaks so articulately to man, as when it speaks in the desperate calm of a soul to which life or death has done its worst. The same solemn thought with which the sonnet concludes, forms the moral of her ballad entitled the "Lay of the Brown Rosary." It is thus that the heroine of that poem speaks-- "Then breaking into tears--'Dear God,' she cried, 'and must we see All blissful things depart from _us_, or ere we go to THEE? We cannot guess thee in the wood, or hear thee in the wind? Our cedars must fall round us, ere we see the light behind? Ay sooth, we feel too strong in weal, to need thee on that road; But woe being come, the soul is dumb that crieth not on 'God.'" Then it is that the despair which blackens the earth strikes clear the face of the sky. Listen again to Miss Barrett, when her soul is cheered by the promises of "Futurity:"-- FUTURITY.