with the greatest kindness; and their residence in Smyrna soon became
delightfully pleasant. One who loved the wonders of Nature, and could
appreciate the goodness of God in the works of his hands, the scenes of
natural beauty every where spread out, could not fail to be attracted by
so many displays of divine wisdom and power. To go from our cold, austere
climate, our bare fields and rock-ribbed mountains, to dwell amid the
luxurious vineyards and gardens of the south of Europe, seems like being
transported from a cheerless desert to a blooming paradise. Our beautiful
things are not connected with our climate or our unproductive fields, but
with our free institutions, our systems of education, our public morality,
our well-regulated government, our well-administered laws, and the
industry, intelligence, and religious habits of the people. Our fields and
vineyards, our rich groves and beautiful scenes, are our churches, our
schools, our colleges, our asylums for the poor, for the blind, for the
insane. These constitute the pride and glory of the land of the Pilgrims.
The glory of the East arises from the natural beauty of the country; from
the adornments of Nature; from the skill and care of God.
Early in August, 1844, she was afflicted with dysentery, which increased
upon, her gradually until all hope of life was taken away. Finding that she
could not live, she gave her time to meditation and prayer. The idea of
leaving earth and parting with her husband, and being buried in a strange
land, though terrible in some respects, did not alarm her. She wished to
live for her husband, for Jesus, for the souls of sinners; but if it was
the will of God she was ready--ready to die at anytime and be buried in any
place. During her sickness, her husband, alarmed at the prospect of his
loss, used all means to restore her wasting health; he remained by her
bedside, and with the most tender care endeavored to mitigate her sorrows
and lift her soul above the pains of sickness. He could not endure the idea
of a separation at the moment when she seemed most useful and best prepared
to labor with success. He had taken her from home, from loved scenes, to
die amid strangers; and the responsibility of his position made him, in
that period of anguish, a most tender nurse and a most faithful watcher.
Her last hours were spent in a manner which gave the brightest evidence of
her future bliss to all who saw her. With a firm hope in the merits of the
crucified One, she descended into the waters of the dark, deep Jordan,
whose billows broke upon the shores of human life with such melancholy
moanings. There was no fear; her soul was stayed on God; and a divine hand
lifted her heart in the last conflict.
About one o'clock, September 27, she breathed her last, and the spirit took
its everlasting flight from the abodes of flesh and the tenements of men.
Her last words were, "O, how happy!" and earth was exchanged for heaven.
She felt the tender and confiding spirit of that beautiful and touching
hymn of Wesley, and repeated it with dying voice and a countenance all
radiant with smiles:--
"Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly."
THE END.