ntered into political life. He has since filled
many eminent stations with credit to himself and advantage to the
country, and only delicacy restrains us from naming the high position
he now occupies, of course under a different name from that we have
chosen to give him. But he has never found another being to fill the
void in his affections, and remains unmarried, the most graceful and
attractive of old bachelors.

And what shall we say of Faith, the pure, the high souled the devoted
Faith? As long as her father lived, he continued to be the object of
her incessant solicitude. She watched him with a tenderness like that
of a mother hovering about her sick infant, devoting her whole life
to his service, and when he died, the tears she shed were not those of
complaining grief, but of a sad thankfulness. Sad was she that no more
in this world should she behold him whom she had ever treasured in her
inner heart; thankful that with unclouded reason and resigned trust,
he had returned to the Source whence he came. Soon after his death,
she joined her uncle in his labors among the Indians, abandoning her
home and devoting the whole of her large income to the promotion of
their interests. There was much in her character that resembled that
of George Armstrong, and notwithstanding the disparity of years,
caused each to find an attractive counterpart in the other. There was
the same enthusiasm, trespassing from constitutional tendencies,
upon the very verge of reason; the same contempt of the world and
its allurements; the same reaching forward toward the invisible. Her
surpassing beauty, her accomplishments and great wealth, brought many
suitors to her feet, but she had a heart for none. She turned a deaf
ear to their pleadings, and "in maiden meditation fancy free," pursued
her course like the pale moon through heaven. Perhaps the awful shock
which she received on the terrible day when the appearance of her
uncle saved her life, working on a temperament so exalted, may
have contributed to confirm and strengthen what was at first only a
tendency, and so decided the character of her life. She died as such
gifted beings are wont to do, young, breathing out her delicate soul
with a smile, upon the bosom of her faithful friend, Anne Armstrong.
A purer spirit, and one better fitted to join the bright array of the
blessed, never left the earth, and to those who knew her, it looked
dark and desolate when she departed.

We have thus