She answered, none of her people slept there; she had nothing of herself to do with graves; it was Marie's mother's grave, and Marie had gone far away--to England. Marie was her friend, and she had promised her that she would deck that grave, and pray beside it; and all for the love she bore her friend. We asked if she was certain Marie would return: "No, there was no certainty; but she would watch the grave, and deck it, and say the prayers Marie would have said, all the same; she loved Marie, and had promised her." There was something very tender in this friendly fidelity, this tending the dead for the sake of the living--the living, dead to her. For ourselves, the place of tombs has rarely been one of sorrow; we have loved to visit the last dwellings of those who have gone home before us. We have thought of the enjoyment of re-union; and dwelt upon the delight of an eternity of harmony and love--that "perfect love which casteth out fear." We have speculated on seeing Milton in the company of angels; on recognizing Bunyan with the faithful; on beholding Fenelon at the "right hand," and Mendelssohn among the chosen! Knowing that God is a more merciful judge than man, we believe that there we shall see many faiths prostrate in adoration of the one great LORD, who is for all, and "above all, and in us all." We have looked to the higher nature, the divine essence of those we have honored; and when noble deeds have been done, or lofty genius has triumphed, we have listened with more than doubt to the insinuations of those who, in former, as in present times, aim to detract from the excellence it is not given them to understand. We do not cater for the prejudices of sects or parties, but simply desire to lay our tribute of homage on the graves of those who seem to us most worthy, and have been most useful. We have enjoyed the high privilege of knowing many remarkable people who have passed from among us during the last twenty years,--having won for themselves a glorious immortality by the exercise of talents which, in any other country, would have led to national distinctions. Yet they are well remembered! and to them be _all_ the glory of success. The memory of these great lights,--great authors, great statesmen, great philosophers, great warriors,--is still "Green in our souls." But there were some stars of lesser magnitude, who, if longer spared among us, would have become luminaries of power; some who were summoned, when, according to our finite views, they had arrived at the period for their faculties to expand, and they were about to reap the harvest of long years of labor and of care; such was Mrs. Fletcher, better known as Miss Jewsbury, one of the chosen friends of Mrs. Hemans, who passed away in a foreign land, far from all who loved her.