paid, all but one to the Emperor, who had ever treated him as a
friend; the day before his intended journey he went to the palace, was
graciously received, and then drove home, but when the servant opened
the carriage-door at his own residence he was dead! One sorrow after
another pressed heavily upon her; yet she was still the same sweet,
gentle, holy-minded woman she had ever been, bending with Christian
faith to the will of the Almighty,--"biding her time".

How differently would she have "watched and waited" had she been
tainted by vanity, or fixed her soul on the mere triumphs of "literary
reputation". While firm to her own creed, she fully enjoyed the
success of those who scramble up--where she bore the standard to the
heights of Parnassus; she was never more happy than when introducing
some literary "Tyro" to those who could aid or advise a future career.
We can speak from experience of the warm interest she took in the
Hospital for the cure of Consumption, and the Governesses' Benevolent
Institution; during the progress of the latter, her health was
painfully feeble, yet she used her personal influence for its success,
and worked with her own hands for its bazaars. She was ever aiding
those who could not aid themselves; and all her thoughts, words, and
deeds, were evidence of her clear, powerful mind and kindly loving
heart; her appearance in the London _coteries_ was always hailed with
interest and pleasure; to the young she was especially affectionate;
but it was in the quiet mornings, or in the long twilight evenings
of summer, when visiting her cherished friends at Shirley Park, in
Kensington Square, or wherever she might be located for the time--it
was then that her former spirit revived, and she poured forth anecdote
and illustration, and the store of many years' observation, filtered
by experience and purified by that delightful faith to which she
held,--that "all things work together for good to them that love the