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The request that I would give you some account of the writer of the Poems about to be published, is cheerfully granted.

For some years past, I have spent a few weeks in autumn, on the southeastern extremity of Rhode Island.

While there in the autumn of 1832, I heard of an afflicted family in the neighbourhood; and, learning that a visit of condolence would be very acceptable, I determined to make one. I was directed to a small house, far from any road, on the side of a hill descending precipitately to an arm of the sea, which separates this Island from the adjoining State. The first person I saw, on approaching the house, was a young woman at the door, who, as soon as she perceived me, uttered some incoherent words and disappeared. I knocked, was admitted, and soon introduced to the family.

It was composed of a venerable old man, his wife, and three daughters. Here I found sickness, distress, and poverty, in conflict with religion, peace, and purity; and I rejoice to say the latter appeared to triumph.

The old man was feeble, and broken in constitution and health. His "hoary head," however, was "a crown of glory," for it was found in "the way of righteousness."

He had been an officer in the Revolutionary war, and his last days were made anxious by endeavours to obtain a pension. He succeeded about a year since; but has now gone to serve a more generous Master.