The last four were fellow-students at the Young Ladie’s Academy of New London, under the instruction of Mr. Amos Perry, afterwards consul to Tunis, and now (1894) Secretary of the Rhode Island Historical Society. They were members of an advanced class formed by him, of which, as the names are now recalled, we discover that nearly all were of Rogerene descent, viz.: John Bolles, John Rogers, or both. Goodness should not less receive its meed of praise. We present in this place the name of one who from childhood was called to display sweet ministries in all the walks of life, and by gentlest influence to lead the hearts of others to that which is purest and best. We speak of our own sister, Delight Rogers Bolles, admired and loved by all, and whose influence ceases not to be felt at the present day. When about twenty years of age, she listened to a discourse delivered by a preacher of some eminence, which was praised by all who heard it. After returning home, for her own benefit and that of others, she wrote down the sermon as nearly as possible as it was delivered, which was read by many. Fifty years afterwards, Mr. Charles Johnson, President of the Norwich Bank, formerly a resident of the town of Griswold, in which she resided at the time, spoke of it to us with fresh admiration, saying, “Every word of the sermon was written to a dot.” Afterwards she married and lived in Hampton for several years, where her excellence of character won for her hosts of friends. Although a Baptist by profession, she uniformly partook of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper with the Congregational Church on Hampton Hill, no Baptist meeting being within several miles of that place, for which she received no censure from the church to which she belonged, to their praise be it spoken. Goodness and love overshadowed all distinction. We should remember that the robe of Christ was seamless. Having so beautifully served her day and generation, she still lives, though her obsequies were celebrated at the Congregational church at Hampton seventy years ago. We never heard an unpleasant word spoken to or by the subject of this memoir. She kept a diary. When eleven years of age, we cast a glance upon one of its pages and read these words: “What shall I do to glorify Thee this day?” This awakened in me a little surprise at the time, wondering what a person in so small a sphere could do to glorify the great God of the universe. But we have long since found that the smallest offerings are acceptable to Him who makes his abode with the humble and the contrite. The list of persons of Rogerene descent might be much enlarged, even within the limits of New London. Outside of this city, it might be almost indefinitely extended. But we have here given enough, we think, to show that Mr. McEwen’s words, “a small remnant,” were not well chosen.