[CoMMUNICATED.l ]
OBITUARY.
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DIED, At the residence of her uncle, G. A.
Chandler, Esq, on Saturday morning, 18th
inst, Miss MARIA G. GOFFE. She had
lived twelve years and fourteen days. Short
indeed has been her earthly career. In the
very bloom of youth she has withered and died.
The flower had not yet eXfoliated, bat its rich
and brilliant tInts were already visible, and
promised TO exceed the expectations of those
who admired, and to meet the hopes of those
who loved. Her intellect was of high order,
active, vigorous, and brilliant. Her taste for
the beautiful, and her perceptions for the sub
lime were equally happy. Her sprlghtllness
of thought and felicity of expression partook
very much of the temperament and genius OF
the celebrated Md. Sevigne, and had she lived,
she would withom doubt, have displayed pow
ers of intellect and of heart similar to those of
that distinguished lady.


1t is only once in a great while that such
powers are granted 10 mortals; and when pos
sessed, alas, they are too often employed, and
consumed in the gay and thoughtless circles of
fashionable life, and too seldom devoted to The
infinitely important matters of the life to come.
In the circles that live for time, we find Mon
tague and a de Stael--ln those that live
for eternity, a Moore, and Judson. Had
Nara lived, she would be one of those stars
that cannot rise and shine without an influence
for good or for i'll. She would dazzle to bewil-
der in the pathway of forgetfulness food and
of Heaven, or shine to direct in the pathway
of life, hope and blessedness. The Judge OF
the whole earth has taken her to himself and
whatever he does is RIGHT.


A few days before her sickness, the writer
of this notice, had an interesting conversation
with her on the subject of religion. She ex-
pressed her admiration of its beauties, her
anxiety to possess its hope, and to live and die
under its influence. She also expressed de-
termination to yield no longer to the fascina-
tons of the gay world. But disease came,
made her its victim, blighted. blasted and sent
her to the grave. On Sabbath she was at
Church, listened to the instruction of her Sun
day School teacher, and heard her last sermon,
on Monday she was at school-on Saturday
in the grave.


For some hours before her death, her
thoughts were busy with her departure from
this world. She said 10 her uncle and aunt,
that she was going home, and regretted that
she could hot see her mother and sister. Aboet
an hour and half before her departure he
reused herself from apparent slumber, lo led
for moment at those around her, and oE er-
we'd, 1.-The following lines are by Richard. I
Wilde, of Georgia, ex-n ember of Congress-
and in applying them to herself she said
"How appropriated" She then repeated, Sotto
uoce, but SO distinctly that she was heard in the
adjacent room, these stanzas:


"My life is like the summer rose,


That opens to the morning sky;


And e'er the shades ofevenng close,


IsscatterOd on the ground to die.


Yet on tina; roses humble he'd,


The sotlest dews ofnight are shed,


AS though she wept such waste to see


But none shall drop The teal. for me.


My life is like the summer Leaf,


That trembles in the moons pale ray:


Its hold is fraIl-its date is BRIEF


RestLesS-and soon TO pass Gacay.


Here her voice faltered-death was folding
her in his icy embrace. The struggle was
severe-for it was youth in the arms of death
But who can long resist his grasp--the warm
current frOze and the heart was stilled. Mari:
now lies in our graveyard and waits the IS
loud trump, which shall wake up the dead
and her spirit, to use her own dying languag,
is at her good home.