of every polite accomplishment,
and to a cheerful and sincere piety, she was deeply
imbued with the love of literature and of science. In these, her
Lectures on the Physiology of the External Senses exhibit a
splendid proof of her acquirements in their highest walks, and
are an imperishable memorial of her patient and laborious research.
They who were present at the delivery of these Lectures
will not soon forget the effect of her impressive elocution,
chastened as it was by as unaffected modesty as ever adorned
and dignified a woman. I speak of that which she performed--that
which her capacious mind had meditated I forbear to mention.
For the advancement of her sex in pursuits that are intellectual
she made many sacrifices, both of her feelings and her
time; yet, in all she did, and in all she contemplated, usefulness
was her end and aim--but I must not proceed; less than this I
could not say--more than this might be deemed ostentatious.

What earthly tongue, and, oh! what human pen
Can tell that scene of suffering, too severe.
'Tis ever present to my sight, oh! when
Will the sound cease its torture on mine ear?

Oh! my lost love, thou patient Being, never!
Thy dying look of love can I forget;
The last fond pressure of thy hand, _for ever!_
Thrills in my veins, I see thy struggles yet.

Thy sculptured beauty is before me now:
In thy calm dignity, and sweet repose,
Alas! sad memory re-invests thy brow,
With death's stern agony, and pain's last throes.

Desolate heart be still--forgive, oh God!
The cries of feeble nature stricken sore.
Father! assuage the terrors of thy rod.
Teach me to see thy wisdom--and adore!

[Footnote 1: I cannot resist the melancholy gratification of quoting
from the Literary Gazette, of August 18, in which the death of Mrs. Gent
was announced to the public.--"Science has, since our last, suffered a
severe lost by the death of this accomplished lady; she was well known
for her high attainments as a Lecturer, and her Course on the Physiology
of the External Senses was a perfect model of elegant composition and
refined oratory. Mrs. Gent died at the residence of her husband, Thomas
Gent, Esq. Doctor's Commons, after a month of severe suffering, which
she bore with singular fortitude, and the most pious resignation. There
is a fine bust of her, by Behnes; it was in the Exhibition two years
since, and, from its intrinsic simplicity and beauty alone, has had many
casts m