ints but to the grave.'
"But lo, with hasty step a female form
Glides through the wind and braves the chilling storm,
With eager hand now shakes the tottering door,
Now rushes breathless o'er the snow-clad floor.
Her tongue soft comfort to the mourner speaks,
Her silver voice with soft emotion breaks;
Round the drear hovel roves her moistened eye,
Her graceful bosom heaves the lengthened sigh.
"I know thee now--I know that angel frame--
O that the muse might dare to breathe thy name:
Nor thine alone, but all that sister-band
Who scatter gladness o'er a weeping land;
Who comfort to the infant sufferer bring,
And 'teach with joy the widow's heart to sing.'
"For this, no noisy honors fame shall give,
In your own breasts your gentle virtues live;
No sounding numbers shall your names reveal,
But your own hearts the rich reward shall feel.
"ALBERT."

In the month of August, 1805, Mrs. Graham paid another visit to
her friends in Boston, of whom she spoke with much affection and
esteem. She used to mention, with peculiar approbation, a society of
pious ladies there, who met once in every week for prayer and mutual
edification.

On returning to New York, she again wrote to her friend Mrs.
C----, renewing her endeavors for her consolation and establishment in
the faith of Christ; and soon after informed her of the dangerous
illness of two of her grandchildren, one of whom, in the righteous
dispensations of an unerring Providence, was taken, and the
other left.

To Mrs. C----, Boston.

"GREENWICH, N.Y., Sept. 26, 1805.

"MY DEAR FRIEND--I arrived here on Monday. I found my children in
health, but much affected with the death of the amiable youth M----,
and the melancholy situation of his bereaved parents.

"The epidemic spreads over the city in every direction among the
few remaining in it. All the public offices are here; crowds of the
citizens, and houses and stores spring up in a day; all is bustle and
confusion, and all seem mad on business.

"Parting with my dear friend was most painful, so painful that
nothing could alleviate it but the presence of my own