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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Trials came to her, trials of a kind especially fitted
to break her faith in humankind, and to alloy the
sweetness of her character. People whom she had
befriended showed themselves ungrateful; some
whom she had aided to rise from a low estate showed
themselves, when arrived at higher things, forgetful
and supercilious.
But she cared for none of these things. When some
flagrant instances of this kind were referred to in her
presence, her answer was: "I What I was able to do
for them I enjoyed then, and the remembrance of it I
enjoy now.
Her death came unexpectedly to all her friends.
Although she had lived to a ripe age, she seemed
ever youthful, so that the news of her death came as
a great surprise to all who had known her.
Her heart, and mind, and soul seemed so young I
Beautiful and touching was her funeral. Means
had been taken to prevent any large concourse; there
were gathered a few of her nearest friends-perhaps
a score; they represented all classes of those whom
she had befriended.
On their way to and from her grave, exchanging
reminiscences of one so dear, each revealed the fact
that he or she had found Mrs. Botta a friend in need
-a friend when friends were few. There was no
loud panegyric: there was the simple, loving recital
of what each had seen and known of a most beautiful
life; and there came back to me what her old friend
Horace Greeley had once said to me: "I Anne Lynch
is the best woman that God ever made."
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