Relict of that eminent anatomist, Dr. John Hunter. Most of Mrs. Hunter's poetical effusions were composed some years ago, though but recently collected into a volume, and were deservedly the admiration of her extensive and intelligent circle of friends. This lady is entitled to very high rank among the fair cultivators of literature. Her poems discover a strength of judgment, a delicacy and simplicity of feeling, and a classical sweetness of style, not only seldom to be found in the productions of the female pen, but rarely rivalled by the established male writers of the present age. For the melancholy observable in her writings, it would be presumption to endeavour to account: her sorrows, however, appear to have sprung from a source more affecting than imagination.