And Maria Brooks, admitted by Southey, Wordsworth, Charles Lamb, Fitz Greene Halleck, and many other masters of literary art, to have been the greatest poet of her sex who ever wrote in any language or in any age, though she was born and educated in the shadow of the college in which more than one of the editors of the _North American_ have been professors, was never once honored with its recognition. We do not know that it will strike others so, but it seems to us that John Quincy Adams, John C. Calhoun, Hugh S. Legaré, R. H. Wilde, J. J. Audubon, Mathew L. Davis, Albert Gallatin, Henry Inman, Chancellor Kent, Dr. Judson, Dr. Jarvis, Dr. Morton, Dr. Troost, M. M. Noah, Mrs. Osgood, and many other Americans who have recently completed variously illustrious lives, and so come before the world for a final judgment, are subjects quite as deserving and appropriate for the _North American Review_, as those which it has been accustomed to pick up in the byways of the literary world abroad; and we cannot understand why the facts connected with our own development and destiny, facts which engross and baffle the attention of the profoundest thinkers in the older nations, should give place in the only Review we possess, to such foreign, antiquated, and altogether unimportant topics as continually occupy its pages. * * * * * MR. JAMES W. WARD, of Cincinnati, a short time ago delivered before one of the literary institutions of Ohio, a poem on _Woman_, which has been noticed in terms of high commendation. A correspondent who heard it says it was devoted in about equal parts to the foibles and the virtues of the sex, the former of which it laid bare with a most trenchant blade, while the latter it portrayed with elegance of diction, and an evident love for all that is pure, elevated, and beautiful in woman's proper character. The slave of fashion, the politician in petticoats, and the "bloomer" in br---- pettiloons, the female "progressive," the scold, the slattern, and the butterfly, were all held up to merited rebuke: then came "the true woman," whose character as sister, wife, mother, friend, and "comforter," was dwelt on long and fondly, and portrayed in the language of true poetry and manly devotion. Mr. Ward is not much known out of the literary circles of the West, but several of his short poems have had a wide circulation in this country and in England. * * * * * A volume entitled _Novellettes of the Musicians_, has been published by Cornish, Lamport, & Co., with Mrs. ELLET's name on the title-page as its author, but most of its contents are translated from the German, and the rest are hardly worth claiming. Yet the book altogether is entertaining, and is handsomely executed, with several striking portraits. * * * * *