see the sun."

Many plans were made for leaving Paris, but it was finally decided
to risk the ocean voyage and bring her home, and accordingly she
sailed July 23rd, arriving in New York on the last day of that month.

She did not rally after this; and now began her long agony, full
of every kind of suffering, mental and physical. Only her intellect
seemed kindled anew, and none but those who saw her during the last
supreme ordeal can realize that wonderful flash and fire of the
spirit before its extinction. Never did she appear so brilliant.
Wasted to a shadow, and between acute attacks of pain, she talked
about art, poetry, the scenes of travel, of which her brain was so
full, and the phases of her own condition, with an eloquence for
which even those who knew her best were quite unprepared. Every
faculty seemed sharpened and every sense quickened as the "strong
deliveress" approached, and the ardent soul was released from the
frame that could no longer contain it.

We cannot restrain a feeling of suddenness and incompleteness and
a natural pang of wonder and regret for a life so richly and so
vitally endowed thus cut off in its prime. But for us it is not
fitting to question or repine, but rather to rejoice in the rare
possession that we hold. What is any life, even the most rounded
and complete, but a fragment and a hint? What Emma Lazarus might
have accomplished, had she been spared, it is idle and even
ungrateful to speculate. What she did accomplish has real and
peculiar significance. It is the privilege of a favored few that
every fact and circumstance of their individuality shall add lustre
and value to what they achieve. To be born a Jewess was a distinction