Others

that of many other devoted servants of God. She was not compelled to break up the fallow ground, or be the first to drop the seed into the soil. had preceded her they had prepared the way they had erected the kindly shelter they had opened the heathen mind to receive light and truth. Hence, on her arrival, she found all the comforts and conveniences of a civilized community-she found a most beautiful and romantic residence, a land teeming with all the hallowed associations of sacred history.

Called by God, not to the dungeons of Ava, not to the damp and monster-covered banks of the Irrawaddy, but to a more congenial field of labor, she toiled on in it with pleasure.

Mrs. Smith spent most of the time in her school, which was commenced soon after her arrival, and for a while was "the only schoolmistress in all Syria." The school house, which was erected upon a plan of her own, was filled by a large number of children of Egyptian, Arabian, and Turkish parents, who, under the care of their faithful teacher, made considerable progress. To instruct the little, ignorant children, explain to them the mysteries of science, and lead them upward to the God who made them, was a task for which she was well adapted. Being an ardent lover of the beautiful and grand in nature, she made the green fields, the blooming vineyards, the high, towering mountain all subservient

to the purposes of instruction. Her residence among the Mohegans prepared her for her duties in Syria, and gave her the advantage of an experience which she could have acquired nowhere else. In the Sabbath school she was also most happily employed in instructing the fifteen or twenty children who attended in the path of holiness. Under her labors the school gradually and constantly increased, and a visible change for good was observed among the pupils. Her kindness and affection won the hearts even of the Moslem parents, who, in repeated instances, disobeyed the direction of their priests, and kept their children under her care after the school had been condemned.

One of the most pleasant circumstances connected with the missionary life of Mrs. Smith was her visit to the Holy Land in 1835. From early childhood she had regarded with a feeling of veneration the city of Jerusalem. That was the city in which many of the Savior's miracles were done; there he had healed the sick, cast out devils, raised the dead, and performed many other wonderful works; there was the temple; there the scene of trial, and the streets along which the cross was borne; there, near at hand, was the Garden of Gethsemane, the Mount of Olives, and on the other side of the city the Hill of Calvary on which the Savior was crucified. When, therefore, she found herself on her journey to the most noted spot in the wide world,

emotions of solemn and pleasing interest crowded upon her mind. As she passed along, one object of interest after another presented itself. Tyre and Sidon were seen; and the spot whereon Sarepta once stood was crossed. Her feet traversed the mountains of Galilee, and stood upon the summit of Carmel, Gerizim, Tabor, Hermon, Lebanon, Olivet, and Calvary. She visited the spots where tradition tells us the Savior perished and where his sufferings were endured; and doubtless her imagination brought back the scenes of the past, and she might have heard the low, silvery tones of mercy and grace as they flowed from the lips of "Him who spake as never man spake."

After visiting the prominent places of the Holy Land, our missionary returned again to her station at Beyroot, where she labored with untiring diligence until June, 1836, when, her health failing, she set sail with her husband for Smyrna, with the delusive hope of regaining it. At this point her sufferings commenced. The vessel in which they sailed was old and uncomfortable; the crew and some of the passengers were any thing but agreeable; and horrid profanity was heard instead of prayer and praise. The fifth night after leaving Beyroot the vessel was wrecked on the north side of the Island of Cyprus, and the voyagers escaped with their lives. After many hardships and much danger they landed on a sandy shore in an almost

destitute condition, and, after continuing on the island some days, obtained passage towards the place of their destination. The vessel on board which they sailed was a Turkish lumberman, and in no way adapted to the conveyance of passengers. But, submitting to stern necessity, they made the best improvement of the circumstances under which they were placed. Of the voyage Mr.

Smith says, "The wind was high, and, being contrary to the current, raised a cross and troublous sea. The vessel was terribly tossed, and, being slightly put together, threatened to founder at almost every plunge. Mrs. Smith, besides rolling to and fro for want of something to support her against the motion, was writhing under violent seasickness, which, instead of allaying, served only to increase her cough. She had some fears that she should not survive the night; and for a time I did not know what would be the end of her sufferings."

They arrived at Smyrna in thirty-three days after they left Beyroot. Here her strength gradually failed. The consumption which was wasting her body and drawing her down to the grave made visible advances; and on the 30th of September, 1836, she died in the triumphs of faith, at Boojah, a quiet little village about five miles from Smyrna.

In her sickness she gave the most cheering

illustrations of the power of the Christian faith to subdue fear and disarm death. Her mind was lifted up above the sufferings of her lot, and she held constant intercourse with the Savior of her soul. To a great extent she was free from pain, and enabled to converse with her husband upon the prospect before her. She waited for death with pleasure, and was ready at any hour to depart and be with Jesus. To die was gain, unspeakable gain; and she knew it well. Hence, when her physician and friends would whisper words of hope, she would plainly tell them that her work was done, her mission fulfilled, and the sand of her glass almost run out. It gave her more pleasure to look forward to a meeting with the loved men and women who had departed than to contemplate an existence on the earth, where storms will disturb the fairest prospect, and clouds will shut out the rays of the noonday. sun.

On the Sabbath before her death she sung, in company with her husband, the hymn,

"Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love;

But there's a nobler rest above;

To that our longing souls aspire

With cheerful hope and strong desire."

At twenty minutes before eight o'clock she died, with a countenance all illuminated with smiles, which, after she ceased to speak, played upon her