xl 
A FEW MEMOIRS OF 
regret, as well as causing the grief of those associates 
who might well say, in old Roman style,— 
“ Friends, I owe more tears 
To this dead man than thou shalt see me pay.” 
Mr. Thos. T. Kinney, the talented editor of the “ New¬ 
ark Daily Advertiser,” seems to have been a constant and 
particular friend of the lamented Herbert. The most 
authentic statements of Herbert’s last troubles may be 
found in the columns of that admirable journal, and Mr. 
Kinney now has in his possession the little black-and-tan 
terrier, Yixen, poor “Frank Forester’s” true friend, who 
remained faithful to the last, winning from him the title 
of his “ only comfort.” Many persons connected with the 
New York book-trade reside in that part of New Jersey, 
and were, more or less, acquainted with Herbert, but we 
know of no one who has not acknowledged a pang of 
grief on learning the untimely end of “ Frank Forester,” 
the gay and rollicking preceptor of Young America in 
the “ gentle science of woodcraft,” that science which is 
always ancient and ever new to youthful hearts and em¬ 
ulative spirits. 
The omission of certain ceremonies at the grave of 
poor Herbert may furnish some satisfaction to the vul¬ 
tures of vituperation. Herbert well knew this. His 
words to Rev. Mr. Shackleford were, “ Do the best you 
can for me.” But, that Herbert’s friends were numerous 
and enthusiastic in the place of his residence, may be in¬ 
ferred from the fact that when Rev. Henry B. Sherman, 
Rector of Christ Church, Belleville, N. J., offered to 
second any judicious compromise which might be sug¬ 
gested to save Herbert’s body from being consigned to 
the grave without some token of Christian burial, the 
reverend gentleman’s kindness met with a prompt response 
