energies of a powerful will, and the fidelity of the strictest conscientiousness. This fidelity to her own sense of duty had led her most carefully to cultivate all of her talents; and it is no exaggeration to say that she was among the most accomplished young women we have ever seen among us. "She was, for her years, uncommonly familiar with English literature; spoke the French language with ease and elegance, was well versed in Italian, and had lately made great progress in her German studies. She had much taste in drawing, but had mostly abandoned that accomplishment for music; because, as she said, the latter gave greater pleasure to her friends, and she was a skilful performer both upon the piano and the harp. Shortly before her death, she had begun to pay some attention to sculpture, and had got her materials together for self-instruction in this highest branch of art. It affords an instructive lesson upon the use of time to know, that she had perfected herself in all these studies and accomplishments since her father's accession to the Presidency, and in the leisure moments of a life almost devoted to society. In Washington, the etiquette of the place and her mother's feeble health combined to devolve upon her, almost unaided, the entire performance of the social duties incident to her father's station. She was but a young girl fresh from school; but all admired the self-possession, the tact, and the kindness with which she filled the position allotted to her; and how, young and retired as she was, society in her presence became something more genuine and hearty, as if ashamed of its false mockeries in the light of her sagacious mind. and honest heart. "She was eminently social, and latterly her conversational powers were of the first order. She had read much; her advantages had been great, and she had reaped their entire fruit. She was a keen but kind observer of character, had been familiar with men and women of very various ranks and descriptions, and she would paint to the life the very interesting events which she had witnessed, and the character of the many distinguished persons with whom her fortune had made her acquainted. Full of information and of spirits, more anxious always to listen than to talk, yet never at a loss, even with the dullest, for something pleasant and entertaining to say, with a countenance beaming with honesty and intellect, and with a sweet cordiality of manners which invited at once confidence, affection, and respect. No wonder that wherever she went she became the centre of a circle of friends who loved her most tenderly, and at the same time looked up to her as one of a stronger mind and heart, as a guide and confidante. "She was a genuine tender-hearted woman. Observant of all the forms of elegant life, yet with the most utter contempt for its mere fashions; kind and attentive to all, yet without one point of sympathy with merely worldly people, she loved her friends with all the affection of a strong and ardent nature. She never saw or read of a kind or noble deed that her eyes did not fill with tears. "She clung to her old friends without regard to their position in life, and her time and talents seemed devoted to their happiness; she was thinking constantly of some little surprise, some gift, some journey, some pleasure, by which she could contribute to the enjoyment of others. 'Blessing she was, God made her so;' and with her death, with many of her friends is dried up forever the richest fountain of their happiness. "She was reserved in the expression of her religious views. As is natural with youthful and independent minds, she had little comparative respect for creeds and forms, perhaps less than she would have manifested in maturer years, but her intimate friends knew that she was always governed by a sense of religious duty, that her relations to her Creator and her Saviour were the subject of her constant thought, and that she trusted for her future happiness to the kind mercies of a benevolent Father, to the conscientious improvement of all her talents, to a life devoted to deeds of kindness, and to a heart as pure and unspotted as a child's. At home-ah! that house, all 'emptied of delight,' over which she presided with so much dignity and kindness, that forsaken parlor where all the happiness that social life can give was wont to be so freely and hospitably enjoyed; the weeping servants-those bleeding and broken heartslet these tell what she was at home! CONCLUSION OF OBITUARY. 483 "But she is gone! and young though she was, she has accomplished much. She has done much to lay the foundation in our midst of a mode of social life more kind, genuine, and cultivated than most of what is called society; and she has left behind her the example of her life, which, though most private and retired, will always be a blessing to her friends, and through them, we trust, to a wider circle for many coming years. "Farewell! 66 'Forgive our tears for one removed, XIX. JANE APPLETON PIERCE. THERE are two classes of ladies of whom the biographer is compelled to write, and both are alike interesting. One includes those whose lives have been passed in the sunshine of prosperity and allurements of fashionable society, who have been widely known, and who have mingled with the leading characters of this country. The lives of such women include innumerable incidents of public and private interest, and are, in fact, necessary to a perfect history of their time. They are a part of the great world about them, and it as easy to gather the facts of their careers, as of the great men with whom they have been associated nearly or remotely. The other class is composed of those of whom the world knows little; whose perfect seclusion even in a public position has given but little evidence of their abilities, and the world, with its eager curiosity, has been but imperfectly apprised of their merits. Such natures, howsoever cultivated and developed, receive but a small portion of that admiration awarded to the first-mentioned class. Their lives are known only to the inmates of their homes, and though cherished there as a beautiful harmony, and their memory as a holy, sealed book, the inquirer after facts and incidents is dismayed by the |