ills, that she wrote the poem entitled "Sketch
of a Landscape," which no doubt was inspired by the beauty of the
surrounding scenery and the fine view of the "Modest Octoraro," which
may be had from the porch of the old historic mansion in which she
resided.

After a residence of about eight years in Cecil county the family
removed to Philadelphia, where Mr. Hall successively filled the offices
of Secretary of the Land Office, and United States Marshal for the
District of Pennsylvania. The family returned to Maryland in 1805, and
resided on Mr. Hall's paternal estate for about six years.

Mrs. Hall's literary career commenced with the publication of her
writings in the _Port Folio_, a literary magazine published in
Philadelphia about the beginning of this century, and of which her son,
John E. Hall, subsequently became the editor. She soon attained high
rank as a magazine writer, and, until the time of her death, occupied a
position second to none of the female writers of this country.

Mrs. Hall is best known in the literary world by her book entitled
"Conversations on the Bible." It was written after she was fifty years
of age and the mother of eleven children, and was so popular as to
astonish its author by the rapidity of its sale.

SKETCH OF A LANDSCAPE

In Cecil county, Maryland, at the junction of the Octoraro creek
with the Susquehanna, suggested by hearing the birds sing during the
remarkably warm weather in February, 1806.

What joyous notes are those, so soft, so sweet,
That unexpected, strike my charmed ear!
They are the Robin's song! This genial morn
Deceives the feathered tribe: for yet the sun
In Pisces holds his course; nor yet has Spring
Advanc'd one legal claim; but though oblique
So mild, so warm, descend his cheering rays,
Impris'ning winter seems subdued. No dread
Of change retards their wing; but off they soar
Triumphing in the fancied dawn of Spring.
Advent'rous birds, and rash! ye little think,
Though lilacs bud, and early willows burst.
How soon the blasts of March--the snowy sleets,
May turn your hasty flight, to seek again
Your wonted warm abodes. Thus prone is youth,
Thus easily allured, to put his trust
In fair appearance; and with hope elate,
And naught suspecting, thus he sallies forth,
To earn experience in the storms of life!
But why thus chide--why not with gratitude
Receive and cherish ev'ry gleam of joy?
For many an hour can witness, that not oft,