Lucretia Maria Davidson, the subject of the memoir now before us, and the elder of the two sweet sisters who have acquired so much of fame prematurely, had not, like Margaret, an object of poetical emulation in her own family. In her genius, be it what it may, there is more of self-dependence—less of the imitative. Her mother’s generous romance of soul may have stimulated, but did not instruct. Thus although she has actually given less _evidence_ of power (in our opinion) than Margaret—less written proof—still its _indication_ must be considered at higher value. Both perished at sixteen. Margaret, we think, has left the better poems—certainly the more precocious—while Lucretia evinces more unequivocally the soul of the poet. In our August number we quoted in full some stanzas composed by the former at eight years of age. The latter’s earliest effusions are dated at fourteen. Yet the first compositions of the two seem to us of nearly equal merit. The most elaborate production of Margaret is “Lenore,” of which we have just now spoken. It was written not long before her death, at the age of fifteen, after patient reflection, with much care, and with all that high resolve to do something for fame with which the reputation of her sister had inspired her. Under such circumstances, and with the early poetical education which she could not have failed to receive, we confess that, granting her a trifle more than average talent, it would have been rather a matter for surprise had she produced a worse, than had she produced a better poem than “Lenore.” Its _length_, viewed in connexion with its keeping, its unity, its adaptation, and its completeness (and all these are points having reference to artistical _knowledge_ and perseverance) will impress the critic more favorably than its fancy, or any other indication of poetic power. In all the more important qualities we have seen far—very far finer poems than “Lenore” written at a much earlier age than fifteen.