Memoirs of Anne C.L. Botta,: written by her friends. With selections from her correspondence and from her writings in prose and poetry.

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Our proudest monuments no more
May rise to meet the sky;
The stately Capitol, o'erthrown,
Low in the dust may lie:
But mind, sublime above the wreck,
Immortal, cannot die!
The payment of her mother's claim having been
received, she was quite anxious about the investment
of the money. Many withheld their advice for fear of
making a mistake. In this embarrassment a friend
introduced Miss Lynch to Mr. Charles Butler of NewYork city, who at that time was extensively engaged
in railroads and lands in the West. He kindly and
wisely invested the money. From that time he became her constant adviser and warm friend. His
friendship for her, as hers for him, was sentimental
and beautiful as it was disinterested and pure. For
more than forty years he managed your affairs with
skilful and generous hands; and this brought you
both into constant relations with him -an intimacy
which grew into a noble, ever-living affection and into
an unremitting mutual devotion. She never allowed
a year to pass without sending him a few original
lines in commemoration of his birthday, expressing
in affectionate rhymes her reverence for his generous
nature, and his sympathy for all who were in need
of it, and her admiration for the distinguished traits
of his character as a man, as a Christian, and as
a friend. The following are two of these sweet
remembrances:
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