tings and her
manners, bespoke the advantage of a respectable family &
good education. Her person was agreeable; her deportment,
amiable & engaging; and, though in a state of anxiety and
suspense, she preserved a cheerfulness, which seemed to be
not the effect of insensibility, but of a firm and patient
temper. She was supposed to be about 35 years old. Copies of
letters, of her writing, dated at Hartford, Springfield, and
other places, were left among her things.--This account is
given by the family in which she resided; and it is hoped
the publication of it will be a means of her friends'
ascertaining her fate.

Elizabeth Whitman was the real name of the stranger, and the following
was the inscription on the stone:--

"This humble stone, in Memory of Elizabeth Whitman, is
inscribed by her weeping friends, to whom she endeared
herself by uncommon tenderness and affection. Endowed with
superior genius and acquirements, she was still more
endeared by humility and benevolence. Let candour throw a
veil over her frailities, for great was her charity to
others.--She sustained the last painful scene far from
every friend, and exhibited an example of calm resignation.
Her departure was on the 25th of July, A.D. 1788, in the
37th year of her age, and the tears of strangers watered her
grave."

Although we recollect seeing the stone some years ago, when the whole
inscription could be read, we visited the spot in April, 1885, and found
only a small portion left,--a triangular piece, perhaps a foot and a
half high on one side, at the bottom of which we could only make out:
"A.D. 1788, ... the tears of strangers watered her grave." For years,
young persons of a romantic turn of mind have visited the grave and
chipped off small pieces of the freestone for relics. This modern habit
of chipping monumental stones for relics is inexcusable; for it is not
done by ignorant or otherwise lawless persons, but too often by the
educated, who carry their mawkish sentiment to such an extreme as to
deface and sometimes, as in the present case, entirely to ruin a
monument. It is in vain to urge that this was only a stranger's stone,
and that there were none to care. It was all the more an outrage, if
there were no friends to protect it. We are glad to learn that there
were people in the town who did what they could to prevent this
sacrilege.

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