church, and a curse pronounced upon the man, woman or child, who shall know of any persons coming to our house, or speaking to us, without immediately informing against him. We have just taken an interesting young Armenian into our family, whom Mr. H. hopes to train for a translator, and for usefulness to his nation.

“You are all remembered with an affection that I cannot express to you upon paper, even if I had ever so much of it, and ever so much time to write in.

"I should have been quite grieved if mother had forgotten to tell me of the flowers.

August 13.-I can see what a lovely afternoon this is with you, and how pleasant everything looks about you. I imagine it to be one of those delightful afternoons which remind us that autumn is coming, with its fruits and flowers, and its fine, bracing air. I shall visit you after next month, to enjoy those beautiful days that I have always loved so well. We see nothing to remind us of them here. We hardly notice the progress of the seasons, except as we feel the cold,- being so closely walled around that there is nowhere to look, and nothing to see but the walls that enclose us, and a little of the sky above. You don't know much about such an imprisonment as this, having never seen, in an American city, so narrow, dirty and noisy a street as this in which we live. But we have much to be thankful for every day, and I have thus far experienced less of hardship, of toil and privation, than I was looking forward to in the missionary life. I feel that it would be wrong for me to complain, when my situation is so comfortable compared with that of many missionaries who are deserving of more, much more, than myself.

"Into whose hands the government of this empire is to fall is not yet known. Everybody seems to be quietly waiting for what is to come; and, seeing everybody about me so quiet, I keep so myself.

"I shall expect mother to write often, whatever the rest do, because she is ever ready for letter-writing."

FROM HER MOTHER.

"Dorset, Sept. 6th, 1839.

DEAR HENRIETTA: It is one year this morning since I heard from your lips the last sentence that will ever greet my ears where earthly ties are felt. How often do those words thrill my heart through and through! O, could you know how my tears flow when I see the many mementoes you have left behind, and think of the unknown trials that may surround you, you would know that your mother remembered you with a stronger and tenderer affection than ever before! But, much as I long to see you, do not think I wish you to return, unless Τ God prepares the way and bids you enter it.

"If you do in any measure feel as the Saviour did when he left his Father's court and all the joys of the celestial world, and took upon him the form of a servant, that from among the ignorant and the opposing he might bring many sons and daughters unto glory, if you have this holy compassion for souls, and this unquenchable love to God, it is enough. I can have no painful forebodings, and you can have nothing to fear. Should you be cast into a furnace seven times heated, your Saviour would walk with you there, and preserve you. And should death make you his victim, He can put joy and gladness into your heart, and a song of victory into your mouth.

"I had been longing with unquenchable desire to hear from you before I received your letter by the last mail.

"We had taken a great deal of pleasure in thinking how much comfort you would have in our letters; but when you told us the sad story, our disappointment and grief were almost equal to yours, and we could hardly forbear weeping for you. 'S. and his family were here in July. The old hive was rather full, and somewhat noisy for a little while, but it was pleasant. You know there are no roses without thorns, but it does not spoil them.

"We all thank you a thousand times for writing so often. Do continue to make glad our hearts. W. lives in hopes he shall again see you. Jane would hardly care what event brought you to America, if you would only come.

"That the word of God may ever abide in you, and the teachings of the Holy Spirit fill you with consolation, that you may have that hope which shall be as an anchor to your soul, is the prayer of

"Your affectionate and sympathizing

"MOTHER.

"Dear child, how hard to bid you adieu, when you are always in my mind!"

TO HER FAMILY FRIENDS AT DORSET.

"Constantinople, Sept. 11, 1839.

"My thoughts and heart have been much with you since the arrival of the letters. It was almost too much excitement for one afternoon, and I am hardly recovered from it yet. I laughed and cried, and laughed and cried, till I was well-nigh exhausted. Then followed a sleepless night, because I was too happy to sleep, after having heard from you all.

"I am in great need of my pillows, having only a pair of old ones that we brought with us, and one which I have borrowed. With these I now make up three beds for company. For ourselves, we have learned to make a comforter answer for bolster and pillows too. Once in a while we get the privilege of sleeping on a pillow, but it is not often spared to us for more than a few days at a time.

"I thank you for such a particular description of things. A picture of home is what we want in every letter. It will ever be the most delightful and interesting of pictures to me.

"Nothing here is in harmony with the tastes and feelings that have grown in such a country as ours, There is a rude and semi-barbarian look to everything, that carries us back an age from the advancement of the American world. Everything we see and hear gives an impression of ignorance, superstition and moral degradation, which disgusts as well as grieves us. I feel like an exile, and yet I am happy. My husband's home and work are here. I would be here rather than anywhere else in the world.

"It has troubled me that I find so little time for study.

There are so many interruptions of various kinds, that I have not felt at all like a student since the first four weeks. We have had almost constant company since we commenced housekeeping, and you know what an interruption that is to everything.

"We find the Armenians a very interesting and hopeful class of people; but they have suffered much, both in mind and morals, from the debasing slavery to which they are subjected. Their superiority to the Greeks is very marked.

"November 17.· We like Commodore Porter and his family very much. They have preserved their American character admirably, and would be fair specimens of it in any country. The missionary families are on very familiar terms with them, exchanging frequent calls and visits.

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We need much aid from above to strengthen us for all we may be called to pass through. Life hath its many sorrows, as well as its many joys. May each, in the portion in which they shall be meted out to us, prepare us for that world where sorrowing shall cease!

Things are now quiet among the Armenians. The prospect is that missionary schools may be revived before long."

TO HER BROTHER, MR. B.

"November 19.-I wish you would all come in and make me a call this afternoon in my little sitting-room, and see how nice and comfortable everything looks. There is a carpet on the floor now, which covers up the broad cracks; and a little fire in my pleasant Franklin stove keeps me quite warm,-- for the weather has not yet become very cold. I should ask you to sit down on the sofa, because there is but one chair in the room, besides the one in which I am sitting. Nor do I need more, for my sofa reaches across the whole of one side of the

room, and is long enough to seat several such families as yours. It is, to be sure, not so very soft, being filled with straw; but it makes a comfortable seat, and looks well enough, with its calico covering. I should invite you to stop to tea, for I have two squash pies in the cupboard, which I made yes

terday, so that I am quite prepared for company. The bread I fear you would not find so good as you have been accustomed to, it being both black and sour, having, besides, a sort of unwholesome taste that I cannot describe to you. The butter, too, is perhaps worse than what you have ever eaten upon your bread. But would not mind these things much, so long as you were taking tea with me. Our living is, on the whole, better than we expected, because we do have some butter, some milk, and potatoes, such as they are.

you

I wish you could look in and see my home as perfectly as 1 can yours. I have no pleasant views from my windows. Whichever way I look, walls are close upon me, and so high that I can only get a peep at the sky above them. Then there is constant noise and much dust, both of which are no small annoyances. It is very hard to be so shut away from all that is beautiful in this pleasant world. I feel a pining restlessness at times; but I drop my curtains, and keep my thoughts within, or send them to a distance as much as I can.

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“I am glad you sometimes sing and play the flute for me, You can't think what a longing I have to hear you sing 'The Landing of the Pilgrims' once more. I was rejoiced to hear

such an account of the flowers.

before

How I shall feel to be unpacking the things put up by your hands in that far-distant land! It will bring you all up me almost like the actual presence."

FROM HER MOTHER.

"Dorset, Dec. 25, 1839.

"It is safe trusting an Almighty arm, and serving a righteous God, whose treasures are infinite. What a precious consideration that God has ordained that blessings shall spring from crosses! Had it not been for that, on the 3d of December my heart would have broken. A whole year had passed since you left your native shores, and embarked on the tempestuous ocean for a strange land, a land where even yourself seemed not the same. Nothing but the Bible and its Divine Author remained unchanged, and that, I trust, was our consolation.