e. It was the
crowning work of her life, and it was completed; and thus, at the same
hour, this earthly crown was laid upon her dying brow, and the freed
soul put on the crown of a glorious immortality.

Her funeral was attended by a sorrowing multitude, all of whom had
known, and many, yea, most of whom, had been blest by her labors. For
even they are blest to whom it has happened to know and appreciate a
character like hers.

They made her a tomb, in the beautiful Monument Cemetery, beneath the
shadow of a stately cedar. Nature itself, in the desolation of advancing
winter, seemed to join in the lament that such loveliness and worth was
lost to earth.

But with returning summer, the branches of her overshadowing cedar are
melodious with the song of birds, while roses and many flowering plants
scatter fragrance to every passing breeze as their petals falling hide
the dark soil beneath. The hands of friends have planted these--an
odorous tribute to the memory of her they loved and mourn, and have
raised beside, in the enduring marble, a more lasting testimony of her
worth.

The tomb is of pure white marble, surmounted by a tablet of the same,
which in alto relievo, represents a female figure ministering to a
soldier, who lies upon a couch. Beneath, is this inscription:

ERECTED BY HER FRIENDS

IN MEMORY OF
ANNA M. ROSS,
DIED, DECEMBER 22, 1863.

Her piety was fruitful of good works. The friendless child, the fugitive
slave, and the victim of intemperance were ever objects of her tenderest
solicitude.

When civil war disclosed its horrors, she dedicated her life to the sick
and wounded soldiers of her country, and died a martyr to Humanity and
Patriotism.

So closes the brief and imperfect record of a beautiful life; but the
light of its lovely example yet remains.

MRS. G. T. M. DAVIS.

Among the large number of the ladies of New York city who distinguished
themselves for their devotion to the welfare of the soldiers of our
army, of whom so many in all forms of suffering were brought there
during the war, it seems almost invidious to select any individual. But
it is perhaps less so in the case of the subject of this sketch, than of
many others, since from the very beginning of the war till long after
its close, she quietly sacrificed the ease and luxury of her life to
devote herself untiringly, and almost without respite, to the duties
thus voluntarily assumed and fait