We hope it may not be deemed improper to mention one other friend, whose life was a series of benevolent and disinterested exertions. Immediately previous to Miss Adams’s illness, she spoke of this friend with her accustomed interest; and with an anticipation that they should be fellow-travellers to the land of spirits. Mrs Codman’s death took place a few days after that of Miss Adams. She has left to her friends those sweet and sacred remembrances, that soften and elevate the heart; while the influence of her intelligent, and liberal mind, will long be felt in the society in which she lived. The most prominent trait in Miss Adams’s character was sensibility. It was impossible to converse with her any length of time, without touching some of the numerous chords that vibrated through her system. An instrument thus organized did not require the skill of an artist to set it in motion. The feeblest hand could extract notes of joy, sorrow, or apprehension. It responded to every breath that passed over it. This sensitiveness sometimes put her at the mercy of the unfeeling and obtrusive. But, generally speaking, her sensibility was a source of great enjoyment. Towards her friends it flowed forth in an affection fervent and enthusiastic. ‘The sight of them,’ to use her own expression, ‘was like the sun and air of Heaven.’ All that was remotely connected with them became important to her. Those who have heard her speak of Mr Thacher, the eloquent and feeling historian of her friend Mr Buckminster, understood the nature of her emotions. She almost identified him with the being that he so beautifully and justly delineated. Brothers indeed they were in the sacred ties of love and harmony, and in those qualities of mind that emanate from the source of perfect wisdom and goodness. There are many who may apply to both that touching sentence the survivor applied to his friend; ‘Even now, when time has interposed to subdue all the more powerful emotions of grief, there are those who delight to recall the hours we have passed with _them_, and to dwell on those traits, which we loved while living, and which death cannot efface from our memories.’ Mr Thacher, unlike his friend, was doomed to see death approach by slow and faltering steps. If there is a trial on earth that mocks the power of human fortitude, it is to feel the usefulness of life cut off, and to be compelled to remain idle during the toils of the day, while cares and labors are thronging around. How nobly he endured this affliction, how justly he reasoned that the part assigned him was to _wait_, must be well remembered. The teachings of Heaven are as various as our wants. This sublime example of patient endurance has found its way to many a heart, and spoken more forcibly than the services even of an active ministry could have done. His fervent prayer is now accomplished. He has gone to that world where ‘friendship is uninterrupted, and virtue eternal.’