over, the school-children and mistresses sent a message to her poor sick paupers, that they would be glad to hear that their kind friend had been as gently laid in her grave as an infant laid to rest in its mother's arms.
It is proposed to erect on the spot where she died perhaps the grandest religious statue ever sculptured by mortal hands, Tenerani's "Angel of the Resurrection," as a fitting memorial of her work, and a type of the hope to come. Shall we not also build up living statues to her? Let us add living flowers to her grave, "lilies with full hands,"—not fleeting primroses, not dying flowers. Let us bring the work of our hands, and our heads, and hearts, to finish her work which God has so blessed. Let her not merely "rest in peace," but let hers be the life which stirs up to fight the good fight against vice, and sin, and misery, and wretchedness, as she did—the call to arms, which she was ever obeying.
"The Son of God goes forth to war:
Who follows in his train?"
O daughters of God, are there so few to answer?
London, 1868.
