mmmmBB mMummmmm,i _, ot *t ®1'^«%M ^^^^^^.^ i£^'' '^ PRINCETON, N. J. "S Division. Shelf.. .B.y. Section .., : .Ca^W .Ti . . # / i ..^ iV«w ^ . '> v/"/ V, t./ . ^ \\iITH ILLUSTRATIONS. PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1874- Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. Methought that of these visionary flowers I made a nosegay, bound in such a way That the same hues, which in their natural bowers Were mingled or opposed, the like array Kept these imprisoned children of the Hours Within my hand ; and then, .... I hastened to the spot whence I had come That I might there present it," — on her tomb. DEDICATORY. INSCRIBED TO MRS. DR. WILLIAM C. THOMSON, OF GLASGOW, SCOTLAND, WHO DIED NOVEMBER 28, 1872. I cannot thank her now, but I pray that, if consistent with His holy will, the Omniscient Elder Brother may cause her (whatever now her angel name) who bore on earth the name of Margaret (Frame) Thomson, to know that the completion of this labor of love, whose inception she first suggested, is not only pursuant of her wish, but responsive to foreign missionary interest and personal sympathy, centring from wide-spread sources around my wife's grave, and assurmg me that grave was not wastefully made. R. H. NASSAU. Peekskill-on-the-Hudson, November, 1873. CONTENTS. PAGE Dedicatory 5 Introductory ..... ... 9 Genealocucal 13 CHAPTER I. A Picture 15 C PI A P T E R 1 1. A Homestead 17 CHAPTER III. A Child 25 CHAPTER IV. A School-Girl . . ;i^ CHAPTER V. A Teacher . . . -41 CHAPTER VI. A MiS.SlONARY 51 CHAPTER VII. To Africa 65 7 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE CoRisco Girls' School 82 - CHAPTER IX. A Romance » . . 105 CHAPTER X. A WlKK, AND TIIK ScHO(M I ID CHAPTER XI. A MoTiiLR. — Rkturn to the School .... 150 CHAPTER XII. PlONEERINO 188 CHAPTER XIII. Little Paull 232 CPIAPTER XIV. I.N' THE Wilderness 254 CHAPTER XV. JOURNEYINGS OFT 29I CHAPTER XVI. I'ADiNcj Away 313 CHAPTER XVII. Throu(;h the Waters 332 CHAPTER XVIII. Cairn-Stones 355 CHAPTER XIX. Cytress Leaves 573 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. INTRODUCTORY. UNDER THE DAISIES. " Though they smile in vain for what once was ours, They are love's last gift, — bring ye flowers, pale flowers ! " It is far away, — that grave. Yet, looking across these brown November fields to-day, it seems near. As if I could touch it. As I did when, with two-year-old baby Char- ley's toddling steps at my side, I took — at his wish to "go mamma" — that sunset walk before each day's tropic twilight fell, and his little hands with mine gathered the white daisy-like flowers that humbly grew in the coarse, white sand, and laid them on her grave. Only white flowers then. Gaudy tints hung from vine and branch over the path. They were not chosen. Their odors, like tuberosefs, were too fl/ 7] / voluptuous for loneliness. Only white flowers and green grasses then. 10 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. But now, for the sake of the many who have thrown their fragrant thoughts about her name, that daisy monotone may swell into a harmony of sounds culled from the many-hued " alphabet of angels ;" and I gather, — " With all the pale flowers of the vernal woods, White violets, and the mournful hyacinth. And frail anemone," cinquefoil and weeping-willow mourning for the dead; pine-leaves, mournfully musical, sighing pitifully for life so early ended ; olive-sprigs and amaranths of thanks for the peace and rest found in the immortality "where we lay our burdens down;" roses, withered, — only memory recalling their loveliness ; water-lilies, not purer than the heart that has at last by the sight of God realized His beatitude; tall reeds, — musical reeds, — recall- ing happy voices ; and clinging, twining, friendly ivy ; hopeful verbenas, and coreopses, and chrysan- themums, cheerful as the merry thought and sun- like spirit that shone no less even when the days were " cold and dark ;" red sepals of pine-apple- blossoms, and leaflets of palms, feathery and grace- ful as the footstep that drew its lightness from an upright and perfect heart; and cross-bearing pas- sion-flowers, — the cross of an unswervinsf faith ; thoughtful pansies and forget-me-nots ; submissive blue violets of meek regrets, and asphodels of re- INTRO D UCTOR Y. I i grets vain unless to purify; and red poppies and hyacinths, consoling with a faith in the develop- ments of a future, and in the God who, though He makes pasts and has made futures, gives for actual duty only presents. " By all those token-flowers that tell What words can ne'er express so M'ell." tGENEALOGICAL. MARY CLOYD (lATTA) NASSAU. "Every family is a history in itself, and even a poem, to those who know how to search its pages." 1732. *REV. JAMES LATTA, D.D. Born in the winter of 1732, died January 29, iSoi; Pastor at Chestnut Level, Lancaster County, Pa. ; and his wife, *Mary McCalla, and their ten children, of whom eight survived them, viz., *Francis Alison, — Rev. F. A. Latta, Chestnut Level, Pa. ; un- married. *Wi7/iam,—Rev. W. Latta, D.D., Great Valley, Chester County, Pa., to whom Xi"** Dorn two sons and two daughters. *John Ewing, — Rev. J. E. Latta, D.D., Newcastle, Del., to whom •vsJAS born two sons and five daughters. *Mai7, — Miss Mary Latta. *Margaret, — Miss Margaret Latta. *Elizabeth, — Miss Elizabeth Latta. *Sarah, — Mrs. Rev. Thomas Love, Red Clay Creek, Del., to whom was born one daughter. *James, — Rev. J. Latta, Upper Octorara, Chester County, Pa., to whom ASMts Born one son and five daughters. ^See Sprague's " Annals" of Presbyterianism, vol. 3, names Latta, p. 199, and McCalla, p. 320. 2* 13 14 GENEALOGICAL. 1769. *REV. WILLIAM LATTA, D.D. Born May — , 1769, died February 19, 1847; Tastor at Great Valley, Chester County, Pa. ; and his wife, *Mary Ci.oyd, and their four children, viz., Mary Ann, — Miss M. A. Latla. *Margaretta, — Miss M. Latta. * James Francis, — J. F. Latta, M.D., Chester County, Pa., to whom wfts Dorn one daughter and two sons. William Wilson, — Rev. W. W. Latta, Honeybrook, Chester County, Pa., to whom survives one daughter. 1808. *JAMES FRANCIS LATTA, M.D. Born May 8, 180S, died December 26, 1841 ; Great Valley, Ches- ter County, Pa. ; and his wife, *Lydia Ledley Moore, and their three children, viz., *Mary Cloyd, — Mrs. Rev. R. H. Nassau, Benita, West Africa. \-* Samuel Moore, — S. M. Latta, died September 16, 1856, aged eighteen years. *William James, — Capt. W. J. Latta, Eighth Regiment Penna. Cavaliy ; died October 5, 1862, aged twenty- two years. 1837. *MARY CLOYD (LATTA) NASSAU. Born Februai-y 20, 1837, died September 10, 1870, at Benita, West Africa; and her three boys. " And I will establish my Covenant between me and thee, and thy seed after thee in their generations, for an everlasting Cove- nant, to be a God unto thee and to thy seed after thee." "•"SCc N«tc, prcecdiagTWtge. CHAPTER I. A PICTURE. " And then I tliink of one who, in Her youthful beauty, died; The fair, meek blossom that grew up And faded by my side." Two locks of hair. One, fair and golden, cut when she . No one can tell me now just when or by whom. Perhaps by a mother's hand. Perhaps in one of childhood's sicknesses, and laid away in this old family Bible of her maternal grandfather. Perhaps as a me- mento of happy youth, when that mother may have looked, in natural solicitude, to the possibilities of the future. One hand after another has preserved it from loss, hidden safely, — perhaps in this very Bible, — and there it has lain for a quarter of a century. While the light of youth that shines in these silken threads grew, beaming on the years of girlhood and womanhood, and — like the light of stars before the sun — has gone out in the glory of eternity, the little lock still lies here with the hue and coil of those little years, to tell of the form and features whose spirit gave it life. 15 l6 CROWNED IN PALM'LAND. The other, a heavy tress, in which the color of infancy has darkened, in a casket with the faded bridal wreath of buds from the orange groves of Corisco, cut off as a burden under Africa's fevers, before its mass had borne a single " almond" blossom. How much the light-golden hairs could tell of the thought of the brain that pulsed beneath the wide temple, that spoke through the large gener- ous mouth, or that glanced through the blue eyes under the high, wide, open forehead ! The after- years, that darkened this tress to its ruddy auburn, only added to the vivacity that gleamed in those eyes when they were no longer a quiet, studious little girl's, but a sprightly woman's. Each braid recalls a memory, and has a voice to speak for some special feature. This, for the lithe form that, in spite of a forward inclination of head and shoulder induced by the close observation of near-sightedness, was taller than medium stature. This, for the graceful neck over which it played, tossed by the fresh western breeze that came with the swell of the Atlantic on Corisco's strand. This, for the white cheek, — never ruddy, — in whose skin's fair delicacy, even before tropic heat had played on it, the freckled foot- prints of the sun's rays had impressed themselves. And this, for the mobile lips playing with quick flow of words in animated conversation ; or, from A HOMESTEAD. 17 their quiet line of repose, springing into curved life in sudden repartee. And tJiis, that played loose, either in accustomed negligence or in permitted enjoyment of its escape from restraint of netting or pin, recalls the agile step that on the sands sought with her native girls for shell, or coral, or weed, treading with no less lightness and elasticity than their own feet. Lay them away again, — the golden lock in the old family Bible, and the auburn tress in the casket by the faded wreath. Their silent voices, though they recall a picture of the mortal lineaments, can not recall what has put on immortality. " Her memory is the shrine Of pleasant thoughts, soft as the scent of flowers." CHAPTER II. A HOMESTEAD. 1837-1842. In tlie Valley. " There were flowers beside the brooklet ; There were colors on the meadow " That was a pleasant ride, one August day, when her two boys went to see the place where their mother had lived when younger even than they. The cars had brought us through the valley of 1 8 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. the Schuylkill from Philadelphia and Norristown up into the Great Valley of Chester County. Rest- ing there, about the middle of the valley at a small way-station, among connections of the Latta family, we shared the easy hospitality of a Pennsylvania farm-house of the kind that, with the refinements of education and the comforts due proximity to the city, unites rural true-heartedness and freedom from restraint. The next day, with the family carriage and "old Mose," — a relic whose age released him from the labors of the plow, but which better fitted him for safe driving by hands unskilled, or young, or timid, — we started on a pilgrimage to the various localities, within a radius of five miles, where Mrs. Nassau's infancy had been passed. A pilgrimage to a Mecca. But whatever the sad- ness it might have for the older ones of the party, for the children it was to be as happy as had been their mother in those same scenes. Here, in the midst of " Chester's storied vales and hills," a painter-poet has laid some of the scenes of the " Wild Wagoner of the Alleghanies ;" and, only a few miles distant, patriotism had suffered in the snows of Valley Forge. What a picture of loveli- ness, as we jogged along, gathering the view from either side! Under the burdened apple-trees of the orchard, — stopping under a neighbor's pear-tree to listen to a reminiscence of the Doctor, who "knew A HOMESTEAD. 19 her from a child," — winding from side to side of the valley as the land-swales followed the course of the errant stream. Those gently-sloping hills, the stone-walled roadsides, the low-roofed dairy- houses trying to hide themselves on the edges of charming meadows, the short, steep ascents and descents, till we came on our westward way up the valley to the Latta homestead. Up that steep ascent how the horses must have panted in sum- mer! Down it, how the boys' coursing sleds must have sped in winter ! There had lived the Rev. William Latt-a, D.D., while pastor, for almost half a century, of the Great Valley and Charlestown churches. " He was a fine scholar, was skilled in the use of his pen, and was occasionally occupied in teaching. The General Assembly, in 1847, P^i^ ^ tribute to his memory, by speaking of him as ' one of the venerable fathers of the Presbyterian Church.' " The trees in the door-yard — those spruces and maples — he had planted. Sitting on the ample porch of the front door-way he could doubtless have looked over their top or through their vistas as their lines sloped down to the foot of the hill, and could see across and down the valley. But their tall tops and densely-interlaced branches, riot- ing in neglected wildness, shut out sight now. The simple-hearted foreign woman, who boarded and lodged the employees of the adjacent stone- 20 CROWNED IN PALM- LAND. quarry, kindly opened the house for us, and showed the neglected rooms where once courtesy, and talent, and patriarchial dignity of the ministry of a past generation had shed light on the now dusty walls. The two boys saw, but felt none of these things. True, it was where their great-grandfather had lived, but, out o' doors were the trees to climb, and the hillside to romp on, and the quaint dairy- house at the foot, by which sped the brook that, though generations had come and gone, still sang the same song as it flowed " on forever, ever." Then, a few miles east, down the valley, we passed the old stone church with its open, square vestibule. Its door was locked, but the new lecture-room, close ■by, was open. In the sisterhood of churches of that region, how that Great Valley Church has sadly lost its eminence ! Once strong and vigor- ous and famous ; now, as the children of the old families of the valley moved to the cities, carrying with them their ancestral wealth, their broad lands, passing into less cultured hands, were cut up into smaller farms for foreigners, often ignorant or irre- ligious, or others not of the once-dominant Presby- terian element. And the strong old church has become weak under an inevitable decay which Dr, Latta's able successors could not stop. But the graveyard was there, with its precious record of the work of tlic past. And we entered it, while the boys played hide-and-seek in and A HOMESTEAD. 21 around the benches of the lecture-room, with the daughter of a physician Hving hard by, — a little Mary, whose vivacity strangely recalled another little Mary, whose ancestors lay buried there. There was Rev. Dr. Win. Latta's pulpit-shaped monument covered by an open Bible, on whose two pages were carved the entire twenty-third Psalm. "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want," was a promise of covenant grace his own ancestors had well proved. This tall obelisk is a memorial of one of his sons, Mrs. Nassau's father, Dr. James F. Latta, — a genial, ambitious, talented student and honored graduate of Dickinson Col- lege, — an enthusiast in his profession at the medical department of the University of Pennsylvania, a heart tender and loving and poetic, but brave for everything that was manly, and true for everything that was Christian. There, too, were the graves of Mrs. Nassau's mother and two brothers, Samuel and William. Then we turned up a road by one side of the valley toward a rough-cast stone house, about five miles from the old Latta homestead. This was Dr. J. F. Latta's residence, prepared for his bride, Miss Lydia Ledley Moore, only child of Jonathan Moore, M.D., of Deerfield, Cumberland Co., N. J., who had been brought up in Philadelphia in the family of her paternal uncle, Samuel Moore, M.D., late director of the United States Mint, in the com- 3 22 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. pany of her cousins, Mrs. Mary Finlcy and Mrs. Surgeon-General C. L. Finley. This was Mrs. Nassau's first home ; not indeed her birth-place, for she was born in Philadelphia, during her parents' temporary stay there (as a relic visiting-card describes), at the " corner of Madison and Vine, near Twelfth Street," whence they had returned to the valley when she was a few months old. And that stone house, with the willows in front, was the home of her earliest infancy. The trees are the same, — her little hands had probably clutched the sweeping branches of these willows as did her children this day. They peeped down the deep, unfailing well, and twirled the handle to see the evolution of the rope, and drank from the bucket the ice-cold water, all as she had done. There were the fruit-trees, and perhaps some of those peonies in the back garden she may have plucked " in childish glee." But everything else offence, or path, or adornment of window, cornice, or door was changed; and the denial of our request to enter farther than the front door probably saved the revelation of greater alteration in that early home. Here her affectionate parents had lived, — her father, devoted to his profession, successfully practiced his skill, — here her two brothers were born; and that father, from the effects of exposure in the beginning of his practice, had early died, when she was in her fifth year. A HOMESTEAD. 23 The widowed mother, with her three little ones and her own aged mother, remained for two years on the farm at the stone house, and then disposing of the property rented the " Academy" building. This was a select school located some five miles, up the valley, from Dr. J. F, Latta's house, and a mile beyond the Latta homestead. It was used as a dwelling successively by different persons, who, like Mrs. Latta, without having any connection with the institution, boarded the teacher, whose school-room occupied one-half of the first floor. It stands on the old Lancaster turnpike ; a strong stone double house, with lindens and paper-mul- berries in front. We entered what was once the school- room; half of it was partitioned off as a kitchen. We went into the room where she had sat as a day-scholar, and stood where her little feet had stood in the spelling-class, and spoke to the walls that had responded to the first literary utterances of a mind whose after-accomplishments gilded every life touched by her own. Thus we lingered during two days, about spots so changed in outward form that some of them, like withered roses, had only their memories to make them beautiful, and in the evenings sat on the piazza of our hospitable friends' house, where, while the children played about the roots of the huge, ivy-clad sycamores, tales were told of their mother's childhood in that " Happy Valley." 24 CROWNED IN PALM- LAND. In that brook down in the meadow, — shallow in summer, a torrent in spring, — divested of shoes and stockings she had waded, splashed the cobble- stones in its pebbly bed, and built mud-dams. One of those cherry-trees in front of the porch had its story of climbings; for, even when she was no longer a child but a young lady at school, her heart had all the freshness and mirth of childhood, and on occasions, or in company where permis- sible, would enjoy itself unrestrained. Of that cool dairy, where the water bubbled up as joyously as did the merry laugh that even in Africa never failed, she herself had often told me. The privations of our African home and table were often enlivened by descriptions, not regretful or complaining, of the luxuries of Pennsylvania coun- try milk and cream, its generous slices of fresh wheat-bread and unstinted spread of sweet yellow butter. And among the plannings for that mythical time " when we should be sick enough to have to go to America," was a visit to hospitable Chester County homes and their appetizing bread and butter. " like a just-departing child, Who lingers on the threshold of his home, Strive, with vague murmurings and lingering looks, To store up what were sweetest to recall." A CHILD. 25 CHAPTER III. A CHILD. 1842-1852. At Honeybrook. " Light, winged Hopes, that come when bid, And rainbow Joys that end in weeping." Children make history; but it is mostly un- written. Therefore, whether it be only as trifling as a feather, or as valuable as an Alexandrian Library, it is unknown or forgotten. And it passes away with those who loved, — and therefore would be most interested in its preservation, — as one by one they enter their graves. Childhood's thoughts prresage its future. They should not be regarded as insignificant, unless they fail either to be recog- nized by every child as its own, or to serve as indices of opening character. After his death some of Dr. Latta's poor patients, from force of habit and sure of a kindly word, continued to go to " the Doctor's house" with their minor wounds or other small ailments ; and the physician's widow, under the stress of a sym- pathizing nature, would apply a bandage or give some simple remedy. Little Mary, or — as her 3* 26 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. relations called her — " Molly," sharing in this sympathy and desire to relieve pain, would assist. Doubtless in this slight beginning was laid the taste and tact and skfll in therapeutic knowledge which, enlarging itself afterward by medical read- ing, enabled her, in Africa, to guard her own health and relieve the sicknesses of others. Riding with her paternal uncle, Rev. W. W. Latta, one day, she startled him with a question whose defective theology must be laid to a child's logic and not to her Westminster Catechism : "Uncle, didn't God make all things?" " Yes, Molly, all things." " Didn't He make people ?" " Yes, all people." "Well, uncle, what will people do when God dies ?" One day, while reading aloud, she came upon the word " laugh" in the middle of a sentence, a part of which might be something like, " love to laugh and play." She had been reading in the droning monotone of a beginner, hesitating on almost every word, and stopping to spell the larger ones. The looks of the word ImigJi did not suit her ideas of orthography, and she interjected into the reading a criticism, — letters, and words, and criticism being uttered without notice of punctua- tion, and in the same unvaried tone, as if they were all one long word: — " Love-to-1-a-u-g-h-but- A CHILD. V it-ought-to-be-1-a-f-f-and-play." — ^Her face, mean- while, as imperturbed and serious as if she were announcing a new discovery in philology. Quiet Molly at the day-school would probably not be remembered among the mass of his pupils by her teacher (who is now an Episcopal clergy- man) ; but she was a favorite among her young playmates. Once, when either neglectfully she had failed to write in her copy-book or heedlessly had blotted it, he required her as a punishment to carry the book around the room to each pupil and show the faulty page. She obeyed. But most of the children, particularly the boys, lightened the ordeal for her by keeping on at their own tasks, quietly refusing to look on her disgrace. One of childhood's pleasures was to visit on Saturdays at the homestead, — enjoy the indul- gences of aunts, — and ride with her grandfather Latta on his afternoon preaching services in the school-houses. The feet of life's travelers may have trod a long way between the termini of the journey, but life's track turns on itself and brings the grave near the cradle, so that the last words of the aged entering the one are often the first that were uttered when leaving the other. In the last weary year of her life Mrs. Nassau's memory turned brightly and lovingly to those days with her grandfather ; I remember her recounting in detail the visits and rides and chats, — not forget- 28 CROWNED IN PALM- LAND. ting the cakes that served as lunch on the way to meeting. Calmness in danger was marked even in child- hood. Riding with her uncle, who was driving a horse in whose acquaintance with railroad cars he had not confidence, as the carriage approached a train at a crossing, he said, with some anxiety himself, and to. prepare her for any supposed alarm on her part, " Now, Molly, I fear we'll have a little trouble here." " Why, uncle, perhaps it won't be as bad as you think." In 1844, when Molly was seven years old, her mother, after occupying " the Academy" for a year, left it, and with her children removed to Waynesburg, Honeybrook P.O., some twenty-two miles distant, in the same county; where she built a home opposite the parsonage of the Presbyterian church, of which Rev. W, W. Latta was then pastor. There the little girl's uneventful life was filled by childhood's joys and sorrows; roving with her brothers and cousins on their jaunts through the woods and meadows; with them jumping ditches, and mounting fences, and climbing trees. She bore conspicuously through all her after-life a scar that marked where, in falling from a tree-top, a lower limb had cut her under-jaw. But her cousins remember her not so much for her own merriment A CHILD. 29 in those days, as for being leader and inventor of plans in which they found theirs. And often, in- stead of joining in their romping play, she pre- ferred to sit down with an interesting story-book. Her studiousness was gathering that fund of in- formation which, with a retentive memory and ready utterance, afterward made her a centre of attraction to children listening to her narrations. Her widowed mother's self-reliance in the direc- tion of her house and family seems to have impressed itself, so that on occasions when other children would have been discomposed or power- less through fear, she was self-possessed. When she was about eight years old she was returning with a family party consisting, besides herself and Grandmother Latta, of some married cousins and their children. They were on the railway from the Valley to Downingtown, whence they were to proceed by stage to Waynesburg, — the present branch road thither not then having been built. In the confusion of the change at Downingtown, her aged grandmother, supposing her, like the Virgin's Child eighteen hundred years ago at Jerusalem, " to have been in the company," alighted, and little Molly was carried on by the train on its way to Parkesburg. She was imme- diately followed by telegram, and was returned by the next train to Downingtown and her distressed grandparent. The rest of the party had already 30 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. n left on the stage for Waynesburg, where they judi- ciously concealed the exact cause of delay from her most affectionate mother, and her uncle drove over to the station for her. She narrated that, when the train moved away with her, she recalling the localities on the road, and the fact that her grand-uncle. Rev. James Latta, was residing at Parkesburg, had felt at ease, determining to alight there and find her way to his house, and so had "just sat still in my seat" until the conductor, in making his rounds, had discovered her situation. In after-years in Africa, on a two-months' jour- ney at sea to England on the way to America, comforting herself for the discomforts of the voy- age, she wrote in her journal, under date of August 14, 1863, an incident of this period of her life: " When I was a little girl and visited with my mother in Philadelphia, we always stayed at the Misses Hardie's. There was an old lady living with them named Miss Margaret , for whom I had little fondness, and who had little fondness for children. Observing my dislike of many kinds of food, she used to tell me, by way of reproof and warning, the sad story of a gentleman whom she had known. This gentleman had been used to say that of all things he would or could never cat fat pork or cold potatoes. The British took him prisoner, and he was confined in one of their dread- ful prison-ships, and he was so reduced by starva- A CHILD. 31 tion that he became thankful even for bits of salt pork and cold potato. I suppose I never made any reply to the story, but I know I thought in my own mind that cold potatoes were not very dreadful things ; but as for fat pork or any other kind of fat I never should be brought to touching it. Yet here I am eating every day fat beef or pork as a relish to my baked potato. I take very little bits I can assure you ; but still I like the fat for dinner with my potato. Poor Miss Margaret ! She had her room in the third story, and I used to look with dread on the very stairs that led up to it. She is dead now ; but the Misses Hardie are living in West Philadelphia, and I expect they will be delighted to see me for my mother's sake, if not my own." At Waynesburg, she with her brothers and cousins were under the private tuition of Miss Maria Irvine, now Mrs. Rev. George Matthews of New York City. This protected period of life, which any child in a similarly privileged station can fill from its own history, occupied the eight years of girlhood, so formative for good or evil. The modest, studious little Molly had grown up under the careful, judicious, tender hands of gov- erness, uncle, and mother, into the young girl of fifteen, intelligent, well-read, vivacious. Orphanage might be called hereditary to Mrs. Nassau. Her mother, an only child, was fatherless 32 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. in earliest infancy. And the same shadow of orphanage was about to fall on her daughter's life. In ]\Iay, 1852, Mrs. Latta took Molly and her brother Samuel through Philadelphia on a western journey to visit cousins in Hannibal, Mo. There, while in the family of a distant connection, Mr. Meredith, Mrs. Latta was seized with dysentery, and, after an illness of two weeks, died peacefully June 25, 1852. The children received the care of their mother's relative, Clement L. Finley, late Sur- geon-General U.S.A., then stationed at St. Louis. In the following September Mary returned east to Waynesburg, where — though in the family and care of her uncle, to whom she afterward looked and felt as to a father — she was the nominal ward of Mr. David Buchanan, the executor of her mother's property. The effects of this orphanage, occurring at the limit of her girlhood life, was felt in the immedi- ately subsequent years, while that girlhood was rising into womanhood, when the judicious counsel and advice of a prudent mother are so much needed. She saw the need herself; and often in Africa referred to events in which she had sadly felt their want. A constant Psalm with her was the twenty-seventh. " Visions of Childhood ! stay, oh, stay ! j Ye were so sweet and wild ! And distant voices seem to say, ' It cannot be ! They jiabs away !' " A SCHOOL-GIRL. 33 CHAPTER IV. A SCHOOL-GIRL. 1852-1855. At Norristown. " Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, In thy heart the dew of youth. On thy lips the smile of truth." In November, 1852, orphan Mary took her place with other young ladies as a pupil in the Oakland Female Institute of Rev. J. Grier Ralston, D.D., LL.D., Norristown, Pennsylvania. The impression received of her by her school- mates differed on some points, according to their degree of intimacy, or as they saw her in the rela- tions of classmate, playmate, or room-mate. A lady in Chester, Delaware county, Pennsylvania, sought me after a public missionary address and made herself known as a school- (not class-) mate of Mary Latta, and said that, though so immersed in the occupations of her household that she had forgotten even the names of some of her own class, she remembered Mary's face distinctly. Not being so intimate with her as were others, she was not impressed with a memory of her as a special lover 4 34 CROWNED IN PALM' LAND. of frolic, at least of tricks that were " mean," nor as confining herself to cliques, but as having kind- ness for all. She remembered her as a close and diligent student in the school-room. To Mary's room she and others used to go on Sabbath morn- ing to study the Bible-lesson together. She spoke of her conscientiousness, and had, until I in- formed her otherwise, always supposed she was then a professing Christian ; and had looked on her as one whom she would have supposed might choose a missionary life. Another lady, during part of the school-course a classmate, who knew Mary more intimately, spoke much in the same strain, especially of the easy precedence that was taken in the recitation- room, but was aware of her not being at that time a professing Christian. Another, who sat on the opposite side, but at the same end of the school-room, spoke of the " sunlight face" Mary bore as she entered the rooms ; of her vivacity ; and of the wonderful tales she invented for the amusement of the younger pupils. The picture of her character, as reported by her mates, could not be true if it did not admit that this vivacity sometimes forgot time and place, and left a mark on the teacher's record-book. But fault was coupled only with truth and candor, never with subterfuge or malice. A SCHOOL-GIRL. 35 Mary Latta's after-success in Africa as a trans- lator of poetry showed her possession of musical taste, and she had an ear that enjoyed and com- mended some as distinctly as it condemned other music without being able to tell why ; but she could not sing at all. This her school-companions well knew, and it often afforded them amusement in their recreation-hours, when, after others had been using piano or voice, she would say, " Now, girls, I am a-going to sing !" Thereupon seating herself at the piano she would improvise rhymes, singing and accompanying herself in a manner in- imitable. Her vacations were passed at her uncle's home, in Waynesburg, or with school-mates, visiting their homes (numerous visits at Abington, Penn- sylvania, and one at Trenton, New Jersey, in De- cember, 1853, being pleasantly remembered); and with her relations in the Valley. On one of these visits to the Valley in company of two of her anxiously-careful aunts, the pre- scribed time for return to school had come. Not quite satisfied with the day's enjoyment, she wanted more. Another relation gave friendly connivance to a plan to accomplish that object. The railroad track passed only a few rods from the front of the house, and at the little way-station the train barely stopped before it would be again in motion. Her aunts were ready at the gate and anxiously urging 36 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. against her apparent slowness. The slowness was necessitated by a search in the house for her watch, which, according to plan, was discovered just in time for her to see her aunts step on the train and herself left behind. Then back to her room to doff the city garb and don a dress that thorns could not spoil nor stains ruin, and in a trice she was up a cherry-tree, disputing its fruit with the merry robins. The after-confession of her ruse gave to her aunts as much pleasure as its successful con- summation afforded herself One of Mary's room-mates has kindly permitted the insertion of portions of a letter (the only one in her possession of many received), written to herself during a vacation. It is characteristic, and — as intended — well burlesques school-girl ex- travagance of language. " Waynesburg, April 12, 1854. " My Lovely, Adorable, Charming, Darling, Dearest, Precious, Bewitching L (Did you ever peruse that enchanting work * Mary De Clif- ford ?') : " Having finished a letter to Hannah , taken passage on the sofa to ' the land of Nod,' inter- rupted in my journey by a knock at the door; in- formed my aunt that there was a woman (I did not think her a lady) to see her ; put on a hat of in- describable color, which one of brothers had cast A SCHOOL-GIRL. )7 aside as unfit for use, and which I had fished out of a dark hole, and decorated with ribbons, rosette, and a feather ; started for the store in quest of paper; astonished the natives by singular head- dress ; came home again ; went in the study, and that ivoinan was introduced to me (imagine my surprise) as my cousin, Mrs. ; whereupon I seized pen and ink and made a more hasty than polite retreat to the kitchen, as the only other place where I could find a comfortable fire (there comes my brother for me to commence him a fish- ing-net), wrote a letter to M H ; and now I am seated on a step of the stairs writing on a tall bench (at least I was when I commenced this sentence), being prevented from retreating to the study after my cousin of the forty-second degree had left, by hearing some one say they were going to wash the windows, which was my first disagree- able reminder that there was a kind of half house- cleaning going on in preparing for Presbytery, which meets here next week ; but since I bestowed that long string of adjectives on your name, I have commenced a net for Samuel, eaten mj' supper, and removed to the room where they are all talk- ing about funerals, — which is enough to give one the blues ; and having no doubt pleased you by writing such a long sentence, and thereby remind- ing you of 's composition that you hon- ored by reading, and having violated all the rules of 38 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. rhetoric, and of everything else, it would be better to have a period somewhere on the second page. " My head is never very full of ideas, and at pres- ent it is peculiarly empty, but as neither pen nor ink has the happy faculty of suggesting anything to say, and on asking some one what to put in a letter, she said, tell you there had been seven funerals, four on the other side and three on this ; on inquiry, the line that divided the deaths proved to be the Welsh Mountain, which you need not take the map to find, as it would be too much trouble, though I ought not to think your inquir- ing mind would suffer any obstacle to " impede your search after truth." Aunt Mary Ann is telling a long story about some good boy that would not not fight, which I suppose is intended for the benefit of my brother Sam, who listens very patiently until she is done, and then asks ' how the man who makes those stories can manufacture such a variety.' . . . Now, L , what in the world am I to say, and how are these four pages to be filled up ? Oh, dear ! you are not here to answer the question, and if you were there would be no need of an answer. " I hope Mrs. Brown will have our matting down, and we can decide when we get there which curtain will be put up first, though I think your white one will look the prettiest. Then we must certainly have a-towel-rack,and our spread is to be white. I A SCHOOL-GIRL. 39 bought three plates to-day, one common-sized tea- plate, and two smaller ones. Will you bring a saucer, if you think we need it? and a knife — and don't forget that Commentary, whatever you do. " Imagine our being detained in Bible-class, and having to spend Sabbath afternoon in the study : * Miss , how was the world created ?' 'Out of the dust of the earth.' ' Miss Latta, what is the Sixth Commandment ?' ' Multiply and replenish the earth.' I think, on the whole, we would have an exceedingly interesting time. . . . If you have given up the ghost when this arrives at W , just send it back again, for no other eyes than yours are worthy to decipher these hieroglyphics. . . . Good-night, I am going to sleep on this. " Another twenty-four hours have passed, and neither night-time nor the daylight had any more tendency to breed ideas than the sun's rays have to breed eyes. My thoughts rest ever most assur- edly on my dearest L , and my earnest desire is to gaze with rapture once more on thy beauti- ful countenance. . . . Verily, I will corrupt your morals before long, and it is well that my paper is nearly out. "Yours, most devotedly, " Mary." The accurate fac-simile of her autograph reveals a trait that, in dress and manner, appeared, in 40 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. womanhood, as a freshness and charming unre- straint, but in school-days some would have called neglif^ence or recklessness. Her room-mates re- membered that, perhaps when dusting the room, or arranging the bed, she might, as likely as not, be found attired in her best dress. On one of her vacation visits to Waynesburg there was a Sabbath-school picnic, attended by all the children of the church, and many others not connected with any church organization. Teach- ers with their several classes were to form in pro- cession at a certain grove, and there was a friendly rivalry among the children to see which class should have the finest flags and banners. One unfortunate class, which either had no teacher to aid them, or were too poor to obtain any decora- tions, were, of course, wishing to share in the feast, but were in despair as to their personal appear- ance. Mary heard of it on the morning of the very day, and with the aid of one of her cousins concocted a gay banner that entirely filled the best wishes of that class. The fame of that banner was spoken of many years afterward, linked with the name of the good fairy who had sped to the rescue of the distressed little ones. " Where'er I tro I've a smile for all." A TEACHER. 41 CHAPTER V. A TEACHER. 1855-1860. Trenton. Chestnut Hill. " Dreamt out the scholar's dream, and then away On troubled seas went voyaging with Care." Having completed the three years' course of study at Oakland, Miss Latta graduated in Sep- tember, 1855; and in the October immediately succeeding, her energy seeking work, her taste for books and her love for youth selected a teacher's task as assistant in the Female Boarding-School of the Misses Beatty in Trenton, New Jersey, her attention being directed to that city by the resi- dence there of distant relatives of her mother, and also of two or three of her Oakland companions. Beyond these, confinement to her duties prevented the making of new acquaintances ; so that prob- ably few in Trenton, other than her pupils, remem- ber her year's stay there. Her very few new acquaintances were among the teachers of the Nor- mal School, whose cultivated society she sought, and others, members of the Third Presbyterian 42 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. Church, under the pastoral care of Rev. Jacob Kirk- patrick, Jr., on whose ministrations she attended. Some of those who saw her there as a faithful and regular worker in Sabbath-school, prayer- meeting, district-collecting, and other church work, may be surprised to learn that she was not then a professing Christian. Even had she been, her out- ward life could have shown to others in no respects a more consistent and conscientious walk. But to approach or be approached in conversation on per- sonal religion was difficult. She remembered and ever spoke with affection of the faithful and judi- cious words of Mr. Kirkpatrick's dealing with her as a pastor. In April, 1856, she was led to see the obligation of publicly acknowledging the Saviour whom se- cretly she loved. Circumstances prevented com- pliance with this duty until a year and a half later. The pall of sorrow again fell on her. Her " dear brother" Samuel died in his eighteenth year, on the i6th of September, 1856, from the results of an accidental internal injury received from a playmate at school in Chester County, Pennsyl- vania. He had been her companion and favorite brother. To her younger and only remaining brother, " dear Willie," her affection partook somewhat of a mother's thoughtfulness ; and her sisterly tendrils sought and received sympathy from, and clung to others. A TEACHER. 43 Miss Latta closed her connection with the Misses Beatty's school about January, 1857, and, returning to her uncle's home, was for the next six months in various places for rest and recreation : in Feb- ruary, at her maternal cousins Finley's, in Philadel- phia ; in March, at Lawrenceville, New Jersey, to see her brother William in the semi-annual exam- inations and declamations of the Rev. Dr. Hamill's Classical and Commercial High School. During the religious interest in her uncle's Waynesburg charge in the following summer, she took her stand for Christ ; and on November i of the following autumn claimed, for the first time, her right to the Lord's Table. Her own record is, — " November 9. — Yesterday week I united with the church ;" though the entry on the session book of the Waynesburg church is made under date of November 17. From this point began the happy two and a half years at Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, in charge of a small school under the care of the Presbyterian church of Rev. Roger Owen, D.D. Its privacy, its infantile character, — a day-school, attended only by the children of the residents of " the Hill," — its somewhat parochial character, the respon- sibility resting with the church session, while the actual control lay in her own hands, fulfilled all the conditions of success for her special taste and adaptations. Her little pupils, — now the 44 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. young gentlemen and ladies on the Hill, — as well as their parents, remember her most warmly. A correspondence, from which I am permitted to make extracts, will best tell the story of her life at Chestnut Hill. '* HONEYBROOK, October 9, 1857. "... The day I came home from Philadel- phia, a letter came from Mr. Owen at Chestnut Hill, asking if I would be willing to take charge of a small school there. I had intended remain- ing at home this winter, and I hardly knew what to say or do; but finally I concluded it would be better to reply in the affirmative. I am now ex- pecting a letter every mail containing particulars which will enable me to decide fully as to whether I go there or not," A journal letter, to the same friend, begun at " Honeybrook, October — ," and continued at " The Hill, November — ," says, — " Were I to give you the full benefit of the mood I am in to-night, I am afraid you would not thank me for writing. But, nevertheless, as the experiment is beginning to work a cure already, you cannot blame mc much more than you would thank. ... I am now, I trust, in winter quarters, and ere the first night is passed in my new home I want to talk a little while with you. I am in no A TEACHER. 45 light mood, but for the present you shall be trou- bled with few grave thoughts. . . . Last night and to-day I spent at Mr. Owen's." . . . " Chestnut Hill, November 9, 1S57. " Oh, if you only knew how lonely I am, you would surely sit right down and make such good use of your pen, that a letter would reach me ere many days. . . . The family of Mr. H., though I would like to see more of the married daughter, seem to expect that I sit in the parlor all alone, while they occupy the sitting-room. It is so odd, — I never lived so before ; but maybe I shall learn to love solitude after awhile. As far as I have been able to discover, there is no such thing as family-prayers, and that is the only arrangement or non-arrangement which suits me badly. Mr. H. is Episcopal, . . . the daughter a Baptist, and her husband too, I think; while, I am happy to say, I am a Presbyterian." " November 1 1 . " I have ended my second day's trial of teaching here, and if it is not too soon to form an opinion, I think I shall like the school very well. There were seven scholars present to-day, — two of them boys not yet out of the alphabet. The younger is very stubborn, and has his tears stored up in a very convenient place for use ; but I would be better 5 46 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. satisfied if he did not feel the want of producing them so frequently. One of the Httle girls wrig- gles about as if quicksilver were an item — and a pretty large one, too — of her daily food ; but then, she's so chubby, maybe she can't stand still. Mr. • Owen is so very kind, attending himself to what- ever might give me the least trouble; and I find his wife and sister-in-law very pleasant, too. The latter lady, Miss Lily McCorkle, was seated but two seats from me in the cars the day I came to Chestnut Hill. I wonder whether she considered me sufficiently dignified to take charge of her nieces. She asked me no questions and I volun- teered no information. When the cars stopped at Germantown, she came and stated she was Mr. Owen's sister-in-law, supposing me to be Miss Latta. As I had nothing to say to the contrary, we kept up a little conversation whenever the cars stopped, — which was about all the time. " I don't know the way from the depot to the church, but if you are once in sight of the church, — Presbyterian, and it is not far, — any one can tell you the way to Mr. H.'s ... I have an indefinite idea that the contents of these sheets don't resemble each other very much. Which do you prefer? Do you know I have four places in my room in which to look for robbers before I go to bed, — five, counting a closet with shelves ? It is very incon- venient; but as I didn't make the room, I haven't A TEACHER. 47 myself to blame. Our front door is actually just like the kind they have on mills; but if I want to look out I can shut the lower half and lean over, so that is quite a convenience." "Chestnut Hill, November 12, 1857. "... The first hour after tea I generally try to do something useful, or that ought to be done. The occupation of the next depends on circum- stances ; and the last I do as I please. I have about three hours and a half or four of fluid-light, and I do wish I had something to do. Were I more of an adept in self-discipline I might study, but I don't take any particular interest in prepar- ing lessons not to be recited. You know my reso- lution not to read any more novels this year; broke it lately, now (read one and a half) feel bad, and so on. Don't you think I deserve reproof? I wish you would bestow a little sometimes. ... I had a stove put up in my room to-day, and it is one of the most excitable little things you ever saw. It heats and cools so quickly that I must get up every few moments to open or shut the door. I don't know exactly how to manage it, but I believe Mrs. H. thinks that the girl's business, and I am heartily glad she does. . . . When I first ' moved in,' I had to write on the window-seat (a high one), or make a writing-desk of my lap, as I did the first time I wrote — which was to you. Mr. H. supplied 48 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. mc with a table, and it's so little T have to put it in a little corner by the fire-place for fear it will upset when I sit close by it in writing. Before I left home I was telling them I wanted in my room a big easy-chair, an arm-chair, a rocking-chair, a lounge, and a footstool. Not having any of the five, I am very well satisfied without them ; if I only had four pretty curtains that weren't made of paper! Don't you sympathize with me in my dif- ficulties ? I don't know what I shall do with that fire. It's rather under my management just now. I've tried to fix it for the night, but I reckon it won't stay fixed, — it will go out." " Nm-emher 15. "... I had not intended writing thus to-night, for I certainly felt in no sad mood when I com- menced. I had been sewing on some charity work, for more than two hours, and, after writing a letter of duty, wanted some little recreation. But it is Saturday night, and I may not wait to finish this; besides, you don't deserve it. . . . Do you not feel conscience-stricken in glancing at the several dates of my letters, and remembering you have not written me a word since the first of the month ?" " Chest.nut Hill, February i, 1S5S. "... I wish you could have come in the a.ler- noon. I had much to say, but the children kept me A TEACHER. 49 from collecting my thoughts. ... I am writing down-stairs, and the folks are talking about rob- beries, one having been committed next door to us a few nights ago. I am not as timid as many, but still I should feel rather uncomfortable to have any one enter without leave or license after honest folk are all abed, that is if I should hear them, — a doubtful case." In the vacation months of July and August, Miss Latta was with relatives in Lancaster County, and in after-years spoke of having attended an interest- ing open-air revival meeting at Piquea in a- grove of trees, some of which at least were growths on the same spot from trees under which Whitefield had once preached. Returning to her school, the jour- nal continues : " Chestnut Hill, October 27, 1858. " Writing to you has of late been quite an un- usual thing, but not altogether for want of thinking of you. The recollection of your last visit gives me pain, lest you should have thought I did not care as much to see you as formerly. The truth of the matter was, that Mrs. Ottinger being sick, and all of the nursing falling on me, I was tired out. At least I supposed myself very tired then ; but I have learned since what real weariness of body is. Last week Mrs. Ottinger was sick again, and, besides teaching, I was chief nurse and house- s' 50 CROWNED IN PALM- LAND. keeper too. We had no girl, and I had not much help with the work. It seemed as if the last day of school — Friday — never would come; but it did, and by Monday my patient was much better. My uncle, with whom I make my home, has given up preaching for the present on account of ill health, and will probably spend the winter in the city. If so, I shall be in very often. My brother expects to be in Philadelphia, too, if he can get a situation to suit him. Should Willie be in the city, I should like him to be acquainted with you ; and will you not try to lead him, to influence him aright? He is my only brother, and very dear to me." Her uncle's residence in Philadelphia led Miss Latta there often, and she spent her vacations there with her brother William 'during 1859. In the month of March, i860, she had to leave her school temporarily to accompany to Jackson- ville, Fla., her brother, who was threatened with pulmonary disease. His rapid recovery enabled her to return North in May. But her happy work at the Hill was not resumed, she being called in July hastily to complete preparations for the voyage to her longed-for work in Africa. " Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or w.iy ; But to act that each to-morrow Find us furtlier tliau today." A MISSIONARY. 51 CHAPTER VI. A MISSIONARY. " My soul is not at rest ; There comes a strange and secret whisper to My spirit, like a dream of night, that tells Me I am on enchanted ground." Miss Latta scarcely remembered a time when she had not thought of becoming a foreign mis- sionary. And I cannot find, in the record of let- ters, or the testimony of acquaintances, a time, even in the extravagances of school-girl life, when she was not a Christian. Many children of the Abrahamic covenant, standing, even before their birth, in its precious stream of blessing, — carefully trained and conscientious in life, — cannot name the day when they first knew the Lord. Imper- fect fulfillment of that covenant by parents or church-sessions, and sinful indulgence of delay by the baptized church-members themselves, may de- fer the claiming of covenant-rights until there come those " searchings of heart" that compel to duty. But their Christian birth-day even then should take a much earlier date than the formal 52 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. sessional examination or the first communion season. The story of Miss Latta's Christian and mission- ary thought properly belongs to all the previous eras of her life as child, school-girl, and teacher, and might have been left there in bright thoughts scattered here and there as we passed along. In- deed, in so doing the picture of early life would have been true. But I chose to gather in one bouquet, from all along the paths, whatever relates to the Christian and missionary aspects of her life previous to her departure for Africa. When she was a child at Waynesburg, visitors to her mother's had seen her and been amused to hear her mother tell of "Molly's" liking for the negroes of the village, and of her talks even then about African missions. Herself had told me that she had felt a special interest, not in the compan- ionship of, but in the endeavor to help the despised and neglected; and in any community, naturally found such among the negro population. As she grew older, the going to Africa in 1849 of Rev. J. L. and Mrs. Mackey from New London, in her own county, and of Rev. G. W. and Mrs. Simpson, from her uncle's congregation, probably directed her interest toward that country. Her contributions of aid early went there, and her own name and her brother William's preceded her to Corisco ; hers (as contained in an aunt's) being A MISSIONARY. 53 adopted by a native teacher in Mrs. Mackey's school, who still retains her Christian profession in spite of her husband's opposition ; and her bro- ther's, by a young man who died while studying for the ministry. At Oakland, her school-mates remember her telling them she was to be a foreign missionary. Some regarded it only as one of her sallies of wit. At other times she was quiet and sad, and even dejected, and not until long after would give any reason to her companions, and then would ad- mit only to her room-mate that the depressing thoughts arose from her neglect of religious duty. How seriously she thought may be judged by the closing stanza of verses composed by her for a school-mate's album. Instead of the usual hope of meeting in Heaven that even the godless express in parting, or other tender hours, hers was laid on the "faith" in a Saviour's blood: " Or, if God's dark-eyed angel should pause at our side, To loosen, in youlh, life's quivering cord, May we hope that through faith in Him who has died, Our spirits sliall rise to the courts of the Lord. " Cloyd. "Sept. 17th, 1855." Sometimes a reckless feeling would respond to an inquiry from a sympathizing Christian school- mate in such a way as to permit her alarmed 54 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. friend to think she doubted all religion. Her soul was fighting with itself, and was not at rest while it failed to acknowledge its Saviour. A letter of Rev. J. Kirkpatrick, Jr., evidently one of a series, the others of which are lost, show how this conflict, under procrastinated perform- ance of duty, was continued while at Trenton. It tells her own story as truly as if written by her- self, and therefore I copy it almost entire. As a skillful physician, he was applying a medicine ; from the adaptations of a medicine may be judged the symptoms that indicated it. REV. JACOB KIRKPATRICK, JR., TO MISS MARY C. LATTA. Trenton, Apr. 28, '56. My dear Friend : You know already why I have not answered your note of the i8th inst. before, so I will rest assured that you do not attribute the delay to any indifference to your spiritual welfare upon my part. With much solicitude I have waited for an interview with you. And yet, with the expression of your feelings now before me, I hardly know what it will be best for me to say in reply. You speak of one thing as " the test," and the cross which you have hitherto refused to take up, your " only cross ;" now, dear friend, I tremble for you while you stand at that critical point, so near to A MISSIONARY. 55 the kingdom of God, yet standing still upon the \&xy probability of sinking to a condemnation pro- portionately deep. You know it is a most fearful thing to fall from such a height. I will not dwell upon this most solemn consideration, — it is too painful. May 5. — Three times, while writing the fore- going, I was interrupted and obliged to postpone it. Still, I confess that I could have finished this some days ago, but was induced to wait by the hope of soon having an opportunity of conversing with you. It seems to be manifest from your note that the " only cross" of which you speak, and of which you have spoken before, is the chief hin- drance to your conversion ; this supposition is confirmed in my mind by the acknowledgment that when you did write to your uncle it was with great reluctance, and only because of my urgency, and that under the consciousness of this you re- tained the letter after it was finished. Now let me say that I " urged" you, not because I thought it would be sufficient to communicate your feelings to him, nor because I thought the mere act of writing would answer any good purpose, but be- cause I desired you to attain the spirit of self- denial which was requisite, and because I judged that the effort to write would assist you in acquir- ing that spirit. What I urged you to was the exercise of self-denial, for the sake of your own 56 CROWNED IN FALM-LAND. soul ; and that seemed, according to your own acknowledgment, to be the proper test. What I still feel bound to do, my dear friend, is to press upon you the duty — the necessity — of humbling and denying yourself; and as long as you con- tinue to acknowledge that that is your " cross," I must continue to urge you to stoop down and take it up, and bear it though you be bowed down under it. Ah ! if Jesus had not taken up His cross what would have become of the world ? What would have become of you? Consider the cross He bore, yea, the cross upon which He died. You " have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin," you are not required to, and can you not make so small a sacrifice for Him who shed His blood for you ? What I refer to now is not writing to your uncle upon the subject, — that is a secondary mat- ter, — but prostrating yourself in thorough humil- ity at the feet of Christ, surrendering yourself without reserve to Him ; denying yourself in every respect in which it may be necessary, so as to become wholly His, in truthfulness and devo- tion. . . . You say you sometimes feel new confidence, but it soon vanishes.' You cannot expect true peace to take up its abode in your breast, and re- main there, while you confess that you " have refused to take up" your " only cross." " Patient waiting" till God sees fit to give you A MISSIONARY. 57 peace, let me remind you, is not incompatible with persevering, unceasing, and most ardent supplica- tions. You speak of a long-cherished desire to carry "the glad tidings" to the heathen; I am sincerely glad that such a desire has taken possession of your heart. Do you not regard that as a special call of God to become a true follower of Christ ? ... Be not desponding ; you are " not far from the kingdom" of God. After leaving Trenton, in the beginning of 1857, there must have been some correspondence with Mr. and Mrs. Mackey in Africa. They had been in this country on furlough in 1855, were at Rev. W. W. Latta's church, and Mrs. Mackey, just two years after her return to Africa, wrote, — " EVANGASIMBA, February 17, 1858. " My dear Miss Latta : " We received the box about a month ago ; and the variety and value of its contents make us feel that we are neither forgotten nor neglected by our friends at home. "We have never before received a box so well suited to all our wants as this. " Mr. Mackey wrote to Mr. Latta by the same vessel that brought the box, acknowledging its re- ception. I write this to yourself, having a pleasant 58 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. recollection of meeting with you at your uncle's. The box in which I found your letter I gratefully accept as coming from yourself, and I do think that you have shown a great amount of ingenuity in selecting so many small articles, each one of which is of great use to us. " The black sewing-silk was most seasonable, for I was just in want of some. The black coats in our mission often need darning, and sometimes a patch is necessary. ... I astonished the girls yes- terday with the counters. I told them that if they would recite their geography well, I would make their arithmetic easy. When they had done re- citing, I laid them on the table. They admired their pretty colors, but could not contrive how they could count a sum in simple addition with them. When this was explained they seemed quite de- lighted in experimenting with them. . . . One of our best scholars among our largest girls is now teacher of the smaller girls. Her native name is Mabwami, and her English name is Mary Jenkins Latta. ... I am glad to learn that your mind has been exercised on the subject of missions. If, in the providence of God, your lot should ever be cast among us, we would be most happy to greet you. I trust, in the first place, you have made a full, free, and unreserved consecration of yourself to the service of God, and then you will be ready to go wherever in Flis providence He nuiy call you." A MISSIONARY. 59 In the summer of 1857, during the revival at Waynesburg, before she had yet acknowledged the possession of Christ in her heart, she was earnestly seeking the conversion of others. A response to some remark of her correspondent in the series already mentioned, in a lead-pencil note written from " Willow Grove," the home of a schoolmate near Abington, Pa., says : "August — , 1857. " No, I have seen nothing like insanity in you, unless it be your insanity in refusing to come to Christ as an able and willing Saviour. Why will you not come ? Come now. In the sight of God there is none good, no, not one : and to you He says freely, earnestly, lovingly, ' Give me thy heart.' You must not refuse One who has done so much for you. ... If your desire is to be at peace with God, let that desire absorb every other; do not think of what you have done, but of what you ought to do. . . . If you think my practice accords not with my precept, I own it. May our Father God grant that I be not a hindrance to you ! I pray for you, I pray for myself" "September i, 1857. " To-day commenced our protracted meeting, of which you probably heard me speak. Before the afternoon services were closed, one of the clergy- 6o CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. men rose and appointed an hour at which he requested all to retire and pray for some loved one. I had two for whom to pray, and you will not doubt that I remembered you earnestly. You have been much in my mind through the day, and will be through the week, . . . " Thursday. — It is not quite church time, and I wish to say a few words to you this evening. I fear you live carelessly for the very purpose of drowning thought; have you not told me as much ? . . . "Friday. — Yesterday all who felt any concern for the salvation of their souls were invited to remain. I could not stay ; but last night they persuaded me and I remained. At least, one clergyman for whom I have great respect and affection urged me to do so, if I could consistently, for others might follow my example in turning away. Sometimes I feel as if I had given up all to Christ; if I really have, then all is safe in His hands; but doubts will arise. There afe many who seem to be seeking the Saviour, but how much of it is excitement we cannot tell. But it matters little what others are doing, so long as we feel ourselves to be out of the ark." . . . " IIONKYBROOK, Chester Co. "September 17, 1857. "... Do you remember asking me the last day in the woods but one, whether I really was going A MISSIONARY. 6 1 to Africa? My reply may not have been much to the purpose, but let me tell you now that ere an- other autumn has come and gone it is my wish to be on heathen ground. Doubtless I may have to wait, owing to circumstances of which I know not now, a much longer time; but such is not the desire of my heart, unless it be God's will. " If it is not His will that I go at all, I trust I may be so convinced ; but it is in reliance on His arm I would leave both home and friends, and with full faith on His promise, 'As thy day, so shall thy strength be.' I hope now that I am a child of God, adopted, through faith in Jesus, into His family on earth, and by the Saviour's atonement made heir to His kingdom in Heaven. If I am called to foreign lands, how much more gladly would I go knowing that you too had a personal interest in this great atonement." . . . " HONEYBROOK, Oct. 9, 1857. " How shall I tell you the joy with which I read the glad tidings of your new-found peace ? Tears of heart-felt pleasure spring to my eyes, and I pause to thank our Heavenly Father for His abundant grace. ... I hardly think that I said to any one that I expected certainly to go to Corisco, only that I wanted to very much. I wrote several weeks ago to Mr. Lowrie on the subject, but he either has not received my letter, or is not ready 6* 62 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. to answer it. At that time I was all impatience to go ere another summer should be passed ; but, though my views as to becoming a missionary are unaltered, I trust I am willing to wait a longer period if such be God's will." . . . " Chestnut Hill, Nov. 9, '57. "... You remember the last evening we spent together? Can you tell me or do you know why, of all the subjects mentioned, the one more im- portant by far than any other was so passed over ? I cannot think it was absent from your thoughts the whole time; it certainly was not from mine. Do not let it be so again. I was doubtless in fault; but to speak on religious subjects is to me yet a trial. " Yesterday week I united with the church ; but the day brought me little peace, excepting that which arose from the hope I was doing my duty. Since then, however, I have felt a firmer trust in God as my only Father, in Christ as my all-suffi- cient Saviour, and* in the Holy Spirit as a sure Sanctifier. . . . And let me beg of you to abandon the habit of quoting Scripture lightly; it pains me to hear it, as you surely would be pained to hear from one you esteemed or loved. My brother Willie, in answering one of my letters long ago, made the modest request that I 'would stop lectur- ing.' Whenever you have the same request to prefer, it shall be attended to." A MISSIONARY. 63 "Nov. 23, '57. "... The letter contained sad tidings, for it told of t|ie death of John Newton's mother. The family are all in India, excepting John and Charley, and they, too, have not seen their mother for five years. . . . My very heart aches for her sons left mother- less in a foreign land. " I heard a missionary from Africa preach last night in the Episcopal church, and it was the first time I had ever left my own church for that of another denomination. Mr. Rambo, however, was a teacher of mine many years ago, and I could not resist the temptation. I stopped to speak to him after church, and he walked home with me, and sat a little while. I was so glad to see him." " Chestnut Hill, Oct. 27, '58. "... What are you doing now? . . . Has God in any sense seen fit to lay His chastening hand upon you? You must believe in the perseverance of the saints, — we look at the good afar off, and it seems impossible for us to attain thereunto, but our present concern is not with the length of the road, but obstacles immediately in our path. True,, we must look to Jesus, but looking unto Him does not imply a summing up of all that is to be over- come. Grace will be given as manna to the Israelites, sufficient only for the day; but iox tliat day an ample provision. Why ask more ? 64 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. " I sec Mrs. Ogden's name mentioned occasion- ally in the Home and Foreign Record. At one time I prayed earnestly that God would open the way for me without delay to enter upon the missionary work, but I am beginning to feel, as well as know, that God's time is always best. " It is hardly necessary to inform you that this pen is not the best in the world. I hope your eye- sight is not injured." ... Rev. Dr. R. Owen; of Chestnut Hill, to whose pastoral care her name had been transferred from Waynesburg, speaks of Miss Latta's coming to his study sometimes with questions of duty ; and, in the conversation which would follow, he noticed her difficulty about religious talk. She listened but did not respond, except to assure him that *' she liked to hear him speak." In his Sabbath-school her work was marked by cheerfulness and faithfulness. And he remembers the joy with which she hastened to him with open letter to show him her appointment by the Foreign Board, sharing with him her joy " because it was too good." That appointment by the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, as a missionary to Corisco, had been applied for in September, 1857, but in those days of reaching Africa only by sailing-vessels, which had no proper arrangements for female TO AFRICA. 65 passengers without escort, she was delayed for company, and the appointment was not actually made until June, i860; she, in the meanwhile, re- maining at her school in Chestnut Hill. And in July, i860, an excellent opportunity and escort presented itself, in the company of Rev. William and Mrs. Walker, of the American Board of Foreign Missions, returning to their station at Gaboon. " It is the voice Of millions starving for the bread of life. With gasping breath they send the cry abroad, ' Tell us, O Christian, tell us of thy God !' " CHAPTER VII. TO AFRICA. August-November, i860. Atlantic Ocean. " Go ! may Jesus guide thy going. May He be where'er thou art : May His love, forever flowing, Cheer, refresh, and warm thy heart !" Miss Latta sailed from New York August i, i860, in the brig "Ocean Eagle," Captain P. D. Yates. The passengers, besides herself, were Rev. William and Mrs. Walker and two Liberians, and. 66 CROWNED IN PAUf-LAND. after leaving Monrovia, two Liberian girls, Waneta Alvareze, in Mrs.Walker's service, and Julia Goods, an orphan, taken by Miss Lattaas her ward. From the following journal, and, indeed, from all of Mrs. Nassau's subsequent letters, I have purposely omit- ted sentences containing religious meditations and aspirations, assuming that their absence would leave no doubt on her missionary piety, and de- siring to present especially the picture of missionary real-life not usually met with in formal memoirs. MISS LATTA TO HER UNCLE's FAMILY. Brk; "Ocean Eagle," Aug. 21, i860, Atlantic Ocean, Lat. 37° 18^, Lon. 37° 18''. This is not meant for a journal, nor even an apology for one; but if I do not write you a few lines occasionally, how will you ever learn any- thing about my voyage to Africa ? It will be three weeks to-morrow since we left New York, and this is only my second attempt to handle a pen ; so you will scarcely expect me to say much between this and Monrovia, our first stopping-place. My industry depends on the waves. To-day we arc becalmed, — not exactly, either, as the vessel moves slowly backward ; we are drifting in nearly the right direction, as I understand the vessel heads towards the United States, Greenland, or some other such out-of-the-way place. There! I just missed killing a mosquito; partly from motives of ccon- TO AFRICA. 67 omy, as he was resting on my page, and partly from stopping to observe his beautiful colors, — a bright crimson body and delicate wings of shaded brown. Some of the crimson, I am sure, was ex- tracted from my little finger. The mosquitoes disappeared entirely after we had been a few days at sea ; but some uncommonly large ones have been flying about of late, which had been put up at New York in the water-casks, and just released by the captain. Oh, how they do bite ! Now there is an appearance of rain, and windows must be closed ; but no one thinks I am able to screw up the little round piece of glass in my stateroom, so I continue my writing, leaving Mr. Walker or the captain to attend to it. I did shut it the other night for the second time since coming aboard, and Mrs. Walker opened it for me in the morning, remarking, at the same time, she could neither open nor shut the window in her stateroom. Captain asked how it came to be closed, and I said I had fastened it in the night to keep out the sea when the vessel was rolling; but I only got laughed at for the explanation, the gentlemen thinking "a window Miss Latta had shut and Mrs. Walker could open would not keep out much water." Steward says he knew it was going to rain, for his " chronojneters have been paining" him several days ; but the rain is still in the clouds. 68 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. They arc " tacking ship," for the second time in tlie last half-hour, which will change our course a little ; but the captain says the wind is " dead ahead," and he " don't believe it will ever be fair again." Excuse his want of faith, as he is not well, and our passage thus far has not been the most prosperous. We had head winds and calms for more than a week. Three of the passengers are overhauling their trunks, and the fourth, after turning about uneasily in his berth for some time, has just turned out and put on his coat, preparatory to taking an observa- tion of the weather, I suppose. There are but five in all. You shall hear somethir^ about them some other time ; but to-day I am not in a particularly descriptive mood. There is likely to be sufficient spare time to say all that is worth saying, and much more besides, before we reach Liberia. A quick passage is not to be expected this time of year. Friday, August 24. — Nothing of interest has happened to-day, and nothing is expected to hap- pen. The wind and the sea and the ship and its passengers all seem in a peculiarly inactive con- dition, and I suppose I should be on the sofa if the tincture of cinchona had not been got out of the medicine-chest for my benefit. Mr. Walker kindly searched for and prepared it ; all I had to do was to swallow the mixture, — and it might be worse certainly. TO AFRICA. 69 I believe I will go and read Mpongwe with Mr. and Mrs. Walker. That is the language at the Gaboon, but I only translate for amusement, never expecting to have any use for it. Dr. Wilson gave me a grammar of the Benga language, spoken at Corisco ; but it is dull work studying alone, as well as very slow. The conju- gation of the regular verb kalaka (to speak), in all the voices, moods, and tenses, negative and affirm- ative, occupies some twenty pages ; but, fortunately, there are few irregular verbs, — none given in the grammar. . . . MISS LATTA TO HER BROTHER, W. J. LATTA. Monrovia, West Africa, Sept. 18, i860. Since coming on shore this morning we have learned that a vessel leaves to-morrow for the United States, and whatever we may have time to write may reach you earlier than by the regular mail. The vessel came in yesterday, and is the one sent out by our government with the recap- tured slaves. It had conveyed them to Cape Mount, a short distance north of Monrovia. Had we known of this before, we might have had letters ready, but we are thankful for time, to write even a few lines home, that may assure you a little sooner of our safe arrival and good health. We reached Monrovia on Saturday, September 7 70 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. 15, just forty-five days from the time we left New York. We had no very rough weather, but I was sea-sick the most of the voyage ; not sick enough to be confined to my berth more than a iaw days, but unable to write or sew much, or do anything else in a useful way. It was such an effort to write that I could not have sent you anything of interest in the shape of a sea-journal. I made the attempt several times, but was obliged to give up in despair. The last week of the voyage I was not very well, but am better now, and think another day or two will cure me. Mr. and Mrs. Walker were very kind all through the passage ; took every care of me, and paid me every attention possible. I could not have had kinder friends than they have proved. Truly, God has been very good in bringing us thus far in safety. Do you remember the young colored man who was pointed out to us as one of the passengers ? He had the stateroom opposite mine, and the seat opposite me at table. I believe it seemed strange the first day or two to have him mingling with us all ; but, if that impression did exist, it has so com- pletely worn away that I can scarcely recall it. His father. Rev. Francis Burns, is bishop of the Methodist Church in West Africa ; and to-day I write from the bishop's study, as we have been spending the day and dining with them. Mr. Burns is a veritable African in color, but his first TO AFRICA. 71 wife was almost white ; so the children are very light mulattoes. His second wife is very young in appearance ; she is a mulatto, very lady-like in her manner, and seems to understand the art of mak- ing one feel at home. When I have finished this letter it will, I sup- pose, soon be time to go on board ; this is the second day we have spent ashore, but I expect to sleep on the vessel until I reach Corisco, in accord- ance with Dr. Wilson's advice (indeed, no one advises me differently), especially during the rainy season, which is not yet quite over. . . . Rev. John Seys, one of the principal men here, is in the parlor, and I must go for awhile. There is a delightful breeze here from the sea. Well, I have seen Mr. and Mrs. Seys, the first white persons to whom I have had the pleasure of speaking since coming to Africa. (Mr. S. is the agent in charge of recaptured slaves.) They re- gretted not being at housekeeping, therefore not able to have us spend a day with them ; and I am sorry, too, for I liked them both very much. And now, Willie, dear, I must say good-by for the present. I hope this will reach you before the mail. Give a great deal of love to everybody, — uncles, aunts, and cousins. I thought of you all very often on the voyage, and would like to see you for a little while now, if possible, — but that cannot be. I have had nothing yet to discourage 72 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. me, except at times a feeling of my own unfitness for the work before me; but I must go on, trusting to God for all needful strength. I would not re- turn yet, if I could ; but it is rather early to be making assertions of that kind. Remember me in your prayers, as I always remember you. God bless you, and all my dear friends. . . . MISS LATTA TO THE SAME. Brig "Ocean Eagle," West Africa, October i, iS6o. Just two months ago to-day I bade you good-by in this same cabin from which I write. Docs the time seem to be long to you ? I hope you have not put off writing until you would have a letter from me, because then I will not hear from home till near the close of this year, — perhaps not until the beginning of next. Will you not try and write every month ? Any letters that I inclose to you for others, you can read before forwarding; and this time I want you to take my letter for Uncle William to Aunt Moore to read, before you send it to him. If uncle is in the city, give it to him first, of course ; let aunties see it, too, if they are in Philadelphia. I wonder where you all are, where you all will be through this winter? The days must be getting cool now; but it is hard for us to realize that. We had some very hot days at sea, but have not suffered from the heat since reaching- the African TO AFRICA. 7': coast, — indeed, the rain has been our principal trouble for the last two weeks. The sea was quite rough yesterday; and to-day there is so much motion that I can scarcely write, but it does not make me sea-sick, fortunately. A week's stay in Monrovia cured me, and gave me a good appetite, so that I am ready to eat almost any time of day. The sweet potatoes we get here are the best I ever tasted ; they are very white (one kind), and more mealy than any potato I ever saw at home, whether Irish or sweet. They have, be- sides, yellow ones (about as good as ours), and red, which I have not yet seen. My other letters, which you will read, will give an account of my stay in Monrovia. We left there last Wednesday, — reached Bassa on Thursday, and stayed until Saturday. I did not go ashore, as the bar was bad and sharks very plentiful. While we were at Monrovia a Krooboy was killed by a shark, — bitten right in two. Captain Yates asked our head Krooman, " Who got the body ?" and was told, " Shark got half, we got half" Oct. II, Cape Palmas, IV. A. — I am writing to- day from the Episcopal Orphan Asylum at Cape Palmas, at present under the superintendence of our old teacher, Rev. J. Rambo. It is very pleas- ant to be here. Mrs. Rambo is a sweet woman, and very kind ; and I was very glad to see any one I had known in America. This is the first 7* 74 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. time wc had been entertained by wliite persons since leaving home, and I enjoy it even more than I had expected. There is here, besides, a Miss Ball, teacher of the school, making three mission- aries at this place ; and there are others at stations not very far distant. This is the third day I have been ashore, but I go on board every night as a matter of prudence. Mr. Walker goes to take care of me ; but Mrs. Walker sleeps on land, as it is so much pleasanter than being rolled from side to side in the vessel. The rolling and pitching of the ship does not dis- turb me, as I seem to have bid farewell to sea- sickness since our arrival at Monrovia. Mrs. Walker does not mind sleeping in the vessel so much as she does going back and forth in the boat, — being a little timid. The last day we went ashore at Sinoe, it began to rain before we started for the boat, or rather before the boat reached the landing, and we did not get off until nearly dark. We waited awhile until the rain came down more gently, and then two native cloths were wrapped around me, a handkerchief tied on my head, and a new velvet and oil-cloth hat put over that. Mr. Payne, into whose house we had gone to wait, lent me the cloth and cap from his store, and I left my bonnet behind for the captain to bring next morning. Mr. Walker tied his handkerchief over the hat to TO AFRICA. 75 make it keep its place, Mr. Payne not appearing to have thought about my unusual allowance of brains, — skull, — or something else. A big Kroo- man took me in his arms and carried me to the boat, and the captain held a large umbrella over me, so that I did not get much wet; and then our men began to row. Wind and tide were against us, and we had the bar to cross, but it was not a bad one. Fortunately, Mrs. Walker was not with us, for we had rather an unpleasant time. On reaching the bar, or just after crossing it, the Kroo- men rowed for nearly half an hour without making any sensible progress. One time, when the men changed oars, I thought the boat was getting ready to capsize; and again I was a little startled by a large sea striking us. But I cannot say that I felt any fear, — indeed, we were in no danger that we knew of. We were an hour and a half in reaching the ship, and when I walked into the cabin Mrs. Walker began to laugh and cry. She had not ex- pected us, and Mr. Walker had wanted me to sleep on shore, but I preferred going to the ship. Had we capsized, sharks would have been the chief trouble perhaps. However, a merciful God watched over us ; and without His care we could not be secure at any time, — with it we should never fear. , . . Cape Palmas, Oct. 15. — . . , The Ocean Eagle will sail in a couple of days, and I may be 76 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. in Corisco in three weeks from to-day, or even sooner. . . . MISS LATTA TO THE SAME. " OcKAN Eagle," West Anica, Oct. 22, i860. It seems scarcely possible that only a week ago we mailed our letters home, and now we must begin to write again for the next month's mail. In a few days we will be at Cape Coast, and I must leave letters for the steamer there, which you will be glad to receive, I suppose, though the date be not much later than the last. We are anchored off the coast some twenty miles below Cape Palmas, and the natives have been bringing palm-oil on board to trade with the captain. I made the acquaintance to-day of " King George," but was not riiuch overawed at being in the presence of royalty for the first time. His majesty came on board early this morning with some of his men, and did not leave until after dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Walker and myself dined first, then the mates, and finally the " king" with one of his "head men." His back was to- wards us, so I cannot inform you whether he used his knife or his fork, or either. His dress was different from any I have yet seen. A cap of dark cloth, pointed at the top and decorated with sev- eral colors, and drawn on like a night-cap and TO AFRICA. yy confined by a long band under the chin. A cloth cloak, with sleeves slightly flowing, reached from his neck to his feet ; the sleeves were trimmed with a ruffle of the same. The coat was cut some- thing like a sacque, and, being fastened only at the neck, disclosed a dirty white shirt, or something I took for one. Around his waist was fastened a very pretty red cotton cloth that fell a little below the knees. That is the manner in which the cloth is worn by the most respectable, but many wear only a small piece fastened around the loins. King George was brought into the cabin and introduced by the captain ; after shaking hands with us all, he took a seat at the upper end of the small apartment. Another man followed and sat down near him, after giving us each a shake of the hand. After a little conversation in broken English, I was going on with my sewing when I heard the king trying to attract my attention by calling, " My fren, my fren" (friend). I turned to him, when he partly closed his hand, raised it to his mouth, throwing back his head a little, at the same time saying something I did not understand. I smiled and said, " I no hear," meaning I did not under- stand; though I must confess the action spoke pretty plainly for itself The other man laughed and said, " Whisky." I told him, "Oh, that be bad. I no have whisky. / no drink it." Then 78 CROWNED IN PALM- LAND. added, " You want drink ?" " Yes, ma'am." " \ give you water." He laughed, and said, " No, no." So I informed him that was all I had to drink my- self, and could give him nothing else. In talking with them, we have to imitate their manner of speaking as much as possible, or they could not understand. The natives are continually wanting you to " dash" them, — that is, make a present of some kind. Here come the hot biscuit and tea ! I have been sharing the table with the plates and mugs for some time. October 23. — Good-morning, dear Willie. Our vessel is still at anchor, which does not mean at rest, but rolling from side to side; and the more quiet I wish to be, the more apparent that motion becomes. While reading, sewing, or eating, I am not much troubled by the rocking, but when I attempt to use my pen it is a little unpleasant, — not much after all. This morning we had cakes and lemonade, — limeade rather. Our drinking-cups were cocoa- nut-shells, nicely prepared by Mr. Walker — after he had taken out the meat — for our use. The fresh nuts are very good, though not quite as soft as I had supposed they would be, after hearing that they could be scraped out with a spoon. Occasionally you might get one that could be TO AFRICA. 79 eaten in that way, but it must be quite young. Mr. Walker intended putting a handle on mine to make a dipper of it, but cannot supply himself with materials very well on board ship. Do you remember the cups we sometimes had at home ? Fruit is not so plenty as you may suppose along the coast, as some attention must be paid to its cultivation, and the natives seldom take that trou- ble. Some of the colonists have a great variety of fruit, but the most of them little or none. We are out of Liberia now, and I do not know that we shall go ashore again, except at Cape Coast, before reaching Corisco. . . . Don't be troubled if letters do not always come when you are looking for them. The Corisco mail is sent by boat some distance to meet the steamer, and occasionally arrives too late. In that case two months would go by without your hearing from me. . . . MISS LATTA TO THE SAME. EVANGASIMBA, W. A., Nov. 1 9, 1860. Most probably a sheet of note-paper will hold all that I ought to write to-night, but Nov. 20. — Well, Willie, dear, you will see I did not make much progress in my letter last evening, and now Dr. Loomis tells me that we must hurry with our letters for the mail. So CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. Wc reached here last Friday, November i6, after a voyage of exactly three and a half months. The next day the vessel left for Gaboon, and I suppose Mr. and Mrs, Walker are home by this time. We were sixteen days in coming from Cape Coast, a distance that might have been made in a week without any difficulty, and indeed in less time, with favorable winds and current. That tried our patience a little, especially when we were three days in coming the last forty miles. We ought to be very thankful, however, for such a pleasant voyage as ours has been. A little time we suffered from the heat while crossing the Atlantic ; and on the coast we were several times kept close prison- ers in the cabin by a day of heavy rain; but our ship was a comfortable one, and we have not had any severe storms. One tornado, which came before we were quite ready for it, sent the ship pretty far on one side, and tore one of the sails into so many pieces that it was past mending. The mate stood ready to cut away the ropes attached to the foremast if neces- sary, but it was not done. One of the Kroomen cried out, " I am dead, I am dead !" and another, " O, I shall never see my mother any more !" But we did not hear of that until the storm was over, not understanding their language. The stools moved from one side of the cabin to PLANTAIN-TREE. TO AFRICA. 8 1 the other without any apparent exertion on their part. Under the berth in which Mrs. Walker's girl slept were a number of wooden pails, for trade with the natives. A nest of three or four rolled out, and Wana started after them with more haste than carefulness. The buckets rolled into the cap- tain's stateroom, and Wana, stooping at the door to seize them quickly, was, by a sudden lurch of the vessel, pitched headlong into the captain's berth, while another lot of pails came rolling after her with all possible speed. As I stood at the cabin door watching the storm and hurrying sailors, the head Krooman threw me his old blue flannel shirt, to preserve it from the rain. The tornado was not a severe one, and soon over ; if the ship had not been so light, and the sails could have been taken in in time, there would have been no trouble. I knew there might be danger, but prayed to Him who ruleth the winds and the waves, and He kept me from all fear. God has indeed been merciful to me in all my way, even until this present time. " . . . it will be sweet That 1 have toiled for other worlds than this." 82 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. CHAPTER VIII. coKisco girls' school, 1860-1862. Corisco. *' Yes, the tiny coral insects, by their slow liut constant motion, Have formed those lovely islands in the distant, dark-blue ocean ; And the noblest undertakings that man's wisdom hath conceived, By oft-repealed efforts have been patiently achieved." The missionary force which Miss Latta found at Corisco was distributed at three locaHties : at Ugobi,* on the southern end of the island, Rev. C. * The following rules for the pronunciation of the Benga words as they occur in the following pages are equally applicable to all the dialects of Equatorial Africa. 1. Give their English sounds to all consonants except ^^'j which is always hardy — as " Tanganyika." 2. Give the vowel a the force of a in a\i ! or father, — for exam- ple, " Baraka," " mwanga;" give the vowel a the force of a in Irtw orsrtw, — forexample, " maldnga," " tandaka;" give the vowel e the force of ^ in th^y, or of « in fate, — forexample, " Nengenenge," *' ejaka ;" give the vowel S the force of e in m^t or ev^ry, — for ex- ample, " mbadS," " nygngSle ;" give the vowel i the force of/ in machine, or of ee in s^m, — for example, " Benita," "ikenga;" give the vowel o the force of o in b^jne or ^wn, — for example, "Alongo," "konongo;" give the vowel u the force oi ti in r«de, or ol 00 in moon, — for example, " Ujiji," " ukiiku." COR IS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 83 De Heer, with his Benga boys' school ; at Evan- gasimba, two miles distant, on the western side, Rev. and Mrs. T. S. Ogden, stated supply of the church ; C. L. Loomis, M.D., and Mrs. Loomis, superintendent during the absence of Rev. J. L. and Mrs. Mackey in America; and Miss M. M. Jackson, in charge of Mrs. Mackey's school-girls. Messrs," Loomis and Ogden were building a commodious frame house only a few hunded feet from the Evangasimba house, and distinguished from it by a name "Itandiluku" (Sister-love), which the natives contracted to " Maluku" (Sisters). At Alongo, three miles farther, on the northern end, Miss Jackson's brother-in-law. Rev. W. Clemens, and his mainland boys' school. Writing from Evangasimba, on November 20, i860, to her brother. Miss Latta continues : " I am staying now with Dr. Loomis and his wife at the principal station, but will be in Mr. Ogden's family as soon as their new house has another room completed. Dr. Loomis is very kind and thoughtful. I like him very much, as I do all the other missionaries. Miss Jackson, with whom I am to be associated, is rather quiet, but very kind, pleasant, and lovable. I have not yet 3. Close every syllable with a vowel, — as " Bo-lo-ndo," "bwe- a-kwe." 4. Accent (with an exception not necessary here to mention) the next to the last syllable, — as " Evangaj/mba," " iivanda." 84 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. commenced on any of my new duties, as they wish me to rest a short time. "The first night I was here several red spots ap- peared on the back of my hands, which I supposed to be the bite of some insect, and congratulated myself that they gave mc no uneasiness. Sunday morning Dn Loomis observed them, and asked me what I thought had caused them. When I told him, he said, no, it was a mark of fever; but he was glad to see them, as they showed the fever was coming to the surface. He said the spots might appear and disappear half a dozen times before I would have an attack. They were about the size of a three-cent piece, or smaller, and were gone the next day, except a purplish spot that had marked the centre. Doctor says, ' Let the fever come; do not be troubled about it ;' and I am sure I am not troubled in the least. If it comes, well ; if it stays away, perhaps better. I am very well now, and I know that if careful I shall continue so as long as it is the will of my heavenly Father that I "should." . . . Opportunities for sending mails were rare, na- tive boat-crews expensive and difficult to be ob- tained because of tribal quarrels; so that casual opportunities of passing trading vessels were used. Miss Latta's slight knowledge of medicine soon came into use for herself and others. Though the COR IS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 85 presence of Dr. Loomis was a great advantage, she had come to the country with a well-selected chest of medicines from her brother's employers, Ellis & Co., Philadelphia, and with prescriptions from Dr. Clement L. Finley, which she herself could fill out. MISS LATTA TO HER BROTHER, W. J. LATTA. CoRisco, Dec. 26, i860, 9 P.M. This writing at night is one thing I had resolved never to do if it could possibly be avoided ; but at the present time I am scarcely breaking my reso- lution, for I do not know what other opportunity I shall have to get letters ready for the " Homer." A boat leaves for Gaboon, where the vessel is lying, early on the morning of the 28th, and I shall have no more time to write to-morrow than I have had to-day, and it was only yesterday even- ing we received the word. This may reach you before the letters sent by mail last week ; and, if so, you will be spared some anxiety. I was sick with the fever all last week, and had to beg hard to be allowed to put in the few lines I added to the close of your letter. Miss Jackson wanted to write them for me; but I knew that would alarm you needlessly. It was my first attack of fever, and not very serious. Dr. Loomis was very sick when I was taken, and Miss Jackson not at all well ; but she was able to attend to me and prepare my medicines. I followed Cousin 8* 86 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. Clement's prescription in part, but could not adhere to it strictly, as Miss Jackson could not find the bottle of comp. cath. pills. I sent to Mrs. Looniis for some ; but she gave me something else which did as well. Thursday afternoon I was carried up here toMrs. Ogden's in a hammock, as we had in- tended moving the girls' school the beginning of the week. The station is near and connected with Evangasimba. Mrs. Ogden was not well, and went to Gaboon on a visit the day we moved up ; so Miss Jackson was nurse and housekeeper, besides having charge of the girls. Now that I am pretty well, she keeps house, and I keep the children. I have just let five of them go to bed for the second time to- night ; they kept up such a talking that I made the larger ones put on their dresses and come down into this room for a little while, till they would be tired and sleepy enough to let their tongues rest. As this is a new house, and not yet completed, I am not yet settled in my own room. As soon as the boards are laid on the floor above, I can move in and leave Miss Jackson sole occupant of this apartment. The house is frame, no ceilings, and no plastering ; but we hope to cover the sides of our rooms with paper as soon as it arrives from America. Parlor, dining-room (a very little one), study, and sleeping apartment are all on the first floor. The house is raised on COR IS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 87 posts some eight feet from the ground ; it is thought to be healthier. I have amused the children sometimes telling them ^ibout my brother Willie when he was a little fellow, and they all think he must be something remarkable. Behali, one of the little girls, beo-o-ed me to tell you that you are her " biggest friend," and she would like you to write her a letter. Several of them were in my room a k\v weeks ago, looking at some pictures, when Matuku, one of my favor- ites, said, " Eh, mamma, I want to see my friend Willie." When I showed them your photograph, they were very much pleased, except one child, who said, in a disappointed tone of voice, " Eh, mamma, I thought Willie wore frocks." Perhaps you will not be much flattered by the admiration of my children ; but they are pretty fine little girls for the most part. They all call me " Mamma Latta;" and I am quite proud of the title. Here comes Miss Jackson; I must not write much longer now, because I ought to be to bed and rest. We rise at six, have half an hour to dress, and then the bell rings for prayers. Breakfast at seven. I told this' to some one before, — was it you ? We dine at twelve, or a few minutes after, and take tea at five. The bell rings for worship again at half-past six; and then some one must keep the girls until eight, their bed-time. The rest of us retire when we please. 88 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. A change was made in the school arrangements by the marriage of Miss Jackson, in January, i86i, with Rev. W. H. Clark, of Gaboon, and their transfer to Alongo. Mrs. Clark, writing from Alongo, February 12, 1861, to Miss Jenny W. Baird, of Washington, Pa., says : " You are perhaps aware that, by the ' Ocean Eagle,' another young lady assistant was added to our number, in the person of Miss Latta, from Chestnut Hill, Pa. She is a dear, sweet sister ; but I fear her .strength will prove insufficient to her cares in this trying climate. She is now feeble, and it is not quite three months since her arrival. The girls' school was removed to the new building, a short distance from Mr. Mackey's, which was built by Mr. Ogden for the girls' school; and it is now under his care. That station is manned by Mr, and Mrs. Ogden and Miss Latta." Years later, Mrs, Nassau wrote, of an experience at this period, thus : " Shortly after my arrival, one of the young girls asked me about the shirts she was sewing, and I replied, * I don't know any more than you do.' She opened her big eyes very wide indeed, and said, in English, ' Mamma, you don't know shirts?' '"Yes, Matuku ; I don't know shirts.' " ' Mamma, what will you do ?' (Sewing shirts was one of their constant occupations.) " ' Well, Matuku, I suppose I must learn.' And C ORIS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 89 I have long ago learned the mysteries of collars and gussets, and yokes and bands." Miss Latta took up her work cheerfully, — not unmindful of its responsibility, but with a light- heartedness that threw aside anxiety, and a bravery that overcame trouble. On the death of Mr. Ogden, May 12, 1861, she disbanded her school, to aid, with young Charity Sneed (Mrs. Ogden's Liberian assistant), in the care of little fatherless Spencer, and in the household arrangements of kitchen, payments of natives, etc. In paying employees, and in buying native provisions, all sums are reckoned not in money, but in goods, — e.g. beads, crockery, hardware, cloths, etc. MISS LATTA TO MR. W. J. LATTA. CoRisco, West Africa. Maluku, June 10, 1S61. Where do you find time to write me such good, long letters as you send me every month ? Why, the mere sight of this, my extensive sheet, is almost enough to bring on a small fever. No, I feel better now, after taking the scissors and clip- ping off a few lines at the lower end. . , . Willie, you ought to make some inquiries in regard to my children (your little nieces), my occupations, etc., because I never know what to tell you would be particularly interesting. One piece of information I can give you : no letters came for me last mail, 90 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. and I was disappointed ; but it is the first time that I have been disappointed, so I should not com- plain. They are looking for a vessel at Gaboon, which may have our mail on board. I wish it a speedy passage. We are hoping Mr. and Mrs. Mackey have sailed ; but we cannot look for them before Sep- tember, I suppose. It will be a joyful day in the mission when we can welcome them back. Mrs. Ogden and I am still at this station, but we have not taken back the girls yet, on account of the continued sickness of Mrs. Ogden's babe. He seems better now, and I informed her at dinner that I was ready for the school to com- mence again next week, if she would be ready. Of course, I could not expect any assistance from her in the care of the girls. One of the men has come to recite; please excuse me a little while. Willie, do you know that Corisco snails are desti- tute of any sense of honor? A woman brought me some snails several weeks ago, which I bought, as the shells were pretty, and deposited them on the porch. The next day, when I went to take a look at my purchase, — would you believe it? — they had all crawled away ; money gone, snails gone ! That same week a woman bought a pineapple to sell, for which I offered her a small article. While I went to get it she sold the pineapple to Ibolo (the native who buys for Mrs, Ogden), and then asked me to COR IS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 91 give her the article for " a dash" (present). When I tell you I gave it, you will not be disposed to think very highly of my trading faculties. I do not get tired of Corisco, of the trees that never lose their green, or of the natives who are always black, but I do get //rtv/ of writing the same things over and over again to so many different individuals. Mr. Walker told me if I wanted to write a book, I should do it the first year, — I would find so much more to say. Well, I don't want to write a book ; and, besides, the year is almost ended ; it will be nine months on Saturday since the stormy day we anchored off Monrovia. yujic II. — Here are Mrs. Ogden and the baby, come to pay me a visit ; so I don't know how I shall talk to you and entertain them at the same time, — that is, in a sensible manner. You must go and see Mrs, Ogden when she goes home ; she will be in Philadelphia for a time. I think you will like her very much, if she should be cheerful as she sometin:ies is ; but her heart is heavy yet from the great loss she has sustained. Perhaps she may tell you how troubled she used to be at times, because there was no fresh meat to be had, and I would not eat salt beef and mackerel. Chickens are scarce now, and the natives will bring a little one, not fit to kill, and ask the price of a good-sized fowl. You tell them it is not worth so much, but they reply, " Oh, it will grow !" Sup- 92 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. pose you buy it with the understanding tliat it is to grow ; perhaps it lives, perhaps a snake will kill it, or it may wander off to town, and never wander back again. Sometimes we have a young kid, and that is pretty good, only I should prefer it without the slight flavor of mutton. We have several goats, but each mother-goat has two or three young kids the greater part of the time, so that they are not worth much for their supply of milk. As I have learned to prefer coffee without milk, and I don't like puddings, I rarely miss the milk. It would be good with mush; but mush is good seasoned with salt, if one only thinks so. You must call Aunt Margaretta's attention to this letter particularly; let me think if I can recall any more inconveniences for her benefit. Our but- ter is soft, but not so soft as to drop ofT the knife, as it sometimes did on shipboard, when we were not careful. The last Mrs. Ogden got from the store-house was sixty cents a pound, but it usually is fifty cents. Our flour is almost done; but, if the supply is exhausted before another ship arrives, we must live on our corn-bread. Sugar is also nearly out, but I shall only miss that in limeade, not being fond of cakes, custards, or preserves. As the lime- trees are not bearing very plentifully just now, perhaps I shall be so fortunate as not to miss the sugar at all. Mrs. Ogden makes corn-coffee for CORISCO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 93 me every day, as I thought the other did not agree with me very well. You might think the other missionaries could use molasses to sweeten their coffee ; but the only cask of molasses (syrup, I be- lieve) that is on hand went to work on its own account before it was opened, and it is too sour to sweeten coffee ; otherwise, I believe, it tastes very well, and Dr. Loomis says I will like it ; but we have not had any yet. My dear Willie, have I said enough about provisions for one letter ? One of my scholars (I have but two now) is waiting to recite his lesson. As he doesn't know English, and I don't know Benga (though I can pronounce it tolerably), you may imagine what progress a dull pupil would make. A youthful missionary is often placed in situa- tions where inexperience is tried in responsible offices, and tender women bear and do what might appal strong manhood. Within a year after her arrival at Corisco, Miss Latta, under stress of duty, shared, as nurse and assistant in surgery, in a scene whose remembrance, though her part was acted bravely and efficiently, she never willingly recalled. Her work was increasing as the missionary com- pany was diminishing in strength and numbers. She attended to the remnant of her school ; and then, mounted on the mission Yoruba pony " Charley," would visit her native friends in the 9 94 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. villages, or recreate herself by a call at Alongo, on her dear friend, Mrs. Clark, who, in July, i86i,was about leaving for a furlough in America. The rebellion had broken out in America; Miss Latta's brother had enlisted as lieutenant in the Eighth Pennsylvania Cavalry, and the stress of patriotism and sisterly affection were added to her mission work. The destructions by the "Alabama" and other cruisers made the reception of supplies and even of letters thenceforward for years irregu- lar and scanty. T/ MISS LATTA io LIEUTENANT ^V. J. LATTA. CoRisco, W. A., July 30, 1861. I fear if I tell you I do not love to write short and hasty letters, you will be tempted to doubt my veracity, for here is another of that kind. There is a vessel in Gaboon expecting to sail to- morrow for New York ; and should she sail to- morrow, the boat leaving here in the morning will not take my letter in time. Mrs. Loomis is still very sick, and Dr. Loomis, I fear, may have a bad attack of fever. Other mis- sionaries are pretty well. The American mail came to-night, but letters that I expected from you have probably been sent out on the "Ocean Eagle." I received letters from Aunt Mary Ann and you, dated March, which would have reached me just two months ago if sent CORISCO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 95 by mail ; but they had been put on a schooner at the Mission House, and were four months on their way. You do not know what a disappointment it is when the mail brings me no letter. Oh, my brother, I wish there was peace at home! If it were not that I trust in the goodness of God, I should feel much troubled about you ; but I know that " He doeth all things well." Still, I can- not help wishing some word had come by this mail. War had not commenced at the last dates, but it may be raging now. MISS LATTA TO HER AUNT, MISS M. A. LATTA. CoRlsco, W. A., July 30, 1861. Your letter, of March 22, made its appearance this evening, and if it had come by mail you might have been reading the reply to-night. Letters are so frequently delayed from one cause and another, that you must never think it strange if you get no answer for a long time to some things you wonder I should neglect. In the first place, now I do thank you very much for the aprons and the dark dress that I learn are on the way for my children. You could not please me better than by sending such things to my numerous family. I am glad the dress is dark, as Julia is rather hard on her clothes and I like her to look respectable, — at least if clean clothes would make her so. » 96 CROWNED JN PALM-LAND. I\Irs. Clark has gone to America. Mr. Clark accompanied her to Fernando Po, where she was to take the steamer, and meet Mr. and Mrs. Bush- nell of the Gaboon Mission. You wonder I wanted new things so soon. Well, they will not reach me until I have been here nearly a year. Some things I gave away and some I sold, — not as a money-making speculation, but because others needed them more than I did, and they would not take them as a gift. I don't know what to say about quilts. The children use them. Not very large size; but any you would make would be too good to give them. I generally prefer spreads for myself I sleep under a blanket the most of the year, occasionally two. To compensate the loss of frequent sight of each others' faces, tied as the mission company were by their local duties, they would let scarcely a day pass without sending pupils as messengers with letters and notes of salutation, or exchange of some dainty received from American homes or purchased from some chance native opportunity. MISS LATTA TO REV. WM. CLEMENS. Mai.ukit, Aug. 5, 1861. Your boys have come, and I put aside a very uninteresting letter I am trying to write to America, to send you a few lines. COR IS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 97 Thank you for your care of " Polly ;" I don't know what we should have done with her while Mrs. Ogden was sick. We have not heard from Evangasimba this morning. Mrs. Ogden was down there yesterday afternoon. Mrs. Loomis still had fever, but her pulse was 109 ; lower than it had been, though not so low as at one time. Dr. Loomis said it was malignant or continued fever, which lasts from seven to thirty-five days, and that she had passed the first crisis. I had a short note from Brother De Heer on Saturday night; he was not at all well; but we have heard since that he preached yesterday. His boys have not been over to-day. Dr. L. was not out yesterday. Ib;z5pe took c\l charge of the meeting, and it was conducted as a prayer-meeting. Ibolo would not take charge. Andeke was absent, and Ubengi was the only other one present who could read. IbcJpe, Imunga, ci/ and Ubengi spoke; they all lamented much that a Sabbath should have come on which there was no white missionary able to address them ; and one of them remarked it was probably a judgment from God on Benga Christians. All seemed to feel a desire that religion might be revived in their midst; and Ubengi proposed that they should have a prayer-meeting in the afternoon, if the bell did not ring for Sabbath-school. In the evening monthly concert was held, and 9* 98 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. Andcke conducted the exercises. Many of the young men were present, and the meeting was quite interesting. I suppose they met for prayer in the afternoon, as there was no Sunday-school in the church. Mrs. Ogden and the baby are well. I am con- tented and happy in my work ; but very unfaithful to the souls committed to my charge. After a protracted illness, Mrs. Loomis^ died in the middle of August, i86i. The mission was re- inforced by the landing, on the 12th of September, of Rev. J. L.and Mrs. Mackey.Mrs.G. M. McQueen, and Rev. R. H. Nassau, M.D. The latter two were located at Maluku ; the former two resumed their work at Evangasimba; and in October Dr. Loomis and Mrs. Ogden, with her baby and Charity Sneed, returned to America. The girls' school was en- larged in the number of pupils. Miss Latta entered on the second year of her mission life. The young ladies of a Sabbath-school class at Washington, Pa., had supported Ijule, a most interesting pupil of the school, while it was in Miss Jackson's (Mrs. Clark) care, naming her, for their teacher, "Jennie Baird." Ijule had been removed by her parents; and Miss Baird's class wrote to have the name and support given to another child. CORISCO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 99 MISS LATTA TO MISS J. W. BAIRD. CoRisco, W. A. Itandii.uku, Dec. 19, '61. Our letters must be ready in less than an hour, and I do not like the mail to go without an answer to the one you sent Mrs. Clark. I am trying to write in the midst of my little flock. It is after evening prayers, when the larger girls study a hymn for Sabbath, and the small ones are taught, sometimes orally, and sometimes called to recite by myself. The hymn this week was " Rock of Ages," and, though this is only Thursday night, they all know it, having learned it in part before, I think. Mrs. McQueen, Mr. Clark, and Dr. Nassau are writing in " the big house" (as we say), and all seemed a little surprised that I should make an attempt to write while taking care of the girls. I told the children I was going to write to a lady who liked to hear about girls ; and so they are all on their good behavior, that I may send a pleasant report of my children. The. one we have chosen to take the name of "Jennie Baird" is a little girl of a bright, happy temper, and a favorite with all. Her native name is Elungu, and she seemed quite pleased with the new one, though she keeps forgetting it all the time. She is just beginning to read and talk Eng- lish ; but we hope she will be one of our best lOO CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. scholars, as she comes from a good famil}'. You would like to hear her talk English. Sometimes she puts her arm beside mine and says, " Give me white ; you take my black." When I asked her what word I should send, she hesitated, and the others began to answer for her, " Elungu sews good ;" " Elungu is a good girl ;" and one little child said tell you that " Elungu is a velly (very) little girl." She is about eight years old, and sews better than most girls in America of her age : she can make her dresses very well when the work is basted, excepting gathering the skirt. To be sure, she has been longer in school than many of the other little ones. A younger sister came a ^^^^ weeks ago, and it was quite pretty to see the motherly way in which Elungu took the little one around for the first few days. Jennie Raird (Clark) is back in school, and very anxious to stay, but we fear she will not be with us long. Her father has betrothed her to a polygamist on the island of Elobi, and the man says she must go to his home soon. We are all very sorry, especially as Ijule herself is so much opposed to it ; but " the things" have all been paid, and I suppose there is no escape. It is a sin and a shame! . . . We have twenty-three girls in school at present. Tell the young friends they must pray that God will bless the dear little girl COR IS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. loi they have chosen to support ; and I pray that they may give their own hearts to the Lord, who rules over all. Within a year Ijule was dragged away by three drunken men, — her father, uncle, and betrothed, A maddening scene, that burned itself into memory. More than nine years afterward, when Mrs. Nassau was in her grave, Ijule was brought to light as a Christian inquirer in a manner that shamed our weaker faith, that had given her up for lost, or that looked upon her education as wasted. In January, 1862, came one of those events which test strength, and which revealed Miss Latta's calm- ness in danger, decision, and versatility of resource. UkukiL means a departed spirit (plural, viekuhi). It also means a secret society, into which all males are initiated at puberty, whose proceedings may not be seen by females, nor its laws disobeyed by any one under pain of death, — commuted, occa- sionally, to a heavy fine. Its decisions are uttered as an oracle from any secluded spot by some man appointed for the purpose. On trivial occasions any man may personate Ukuku, and issue com- mands for his family. On other occasions, as in strikes to raise prices, this society lays its com- mands on foreign traders, and other white men. Sometimes representatives of the fraternity from several tribes discuss inter-tribal difficulties. 102 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. The Ukuku of Kombe, a tribe forty miles north of Corisco, was angry at the spread of Christianity there, and came to Corisco to consult with the "sons of Belial" there against our work and schools. It came in a company of forty or fifty men, on the evening of January lo, filing in front of the Maluku school-house, and the children fled in dread to hide their faces in their bedroom. The next morning two old Benga men from the village of Esowc, who were respectively father and step-father of two of the girls, hastily came to the front yard, and entered the house excitedly. Instead of coming in deliberately, sitting down, arranging their persons, and then awaiting the salutation, " Albold" (May you live to be old), they, without seating themselves, said, " Ndakiya inzvan^ ame" (Call my child). This being a demand, and not a respectful request, as would be indicated by the usual addition '"ivc?" (please), it was not com- plied with promptly. The elder of the two started to go through the hall to seize his daughter. They were induced to sit ; and then they told the excited rumors that were flying of danger to our house, and their desire to remove their children from that danger. The children were brought, and the father unceremoniously marched off with his, without the courteous intimation, ^^ Mb' 'alandi; zvi'.'"' (I am going), or even the final word, "Mbi valiiidi'' (I am gone). COR IS CO GIRLS' SCHOOL. 103 Mrs. McQueen and Miss Latta were both present; the latter had acted as interpreter during the con- versation, with her rapidly-acquired knowledge of the language, and now interfered with the step- father, induced him to sit again, represented the foolishness of the fear he was impressing on the child's mind, laughed at Ukuku with an audacity that amazed him, flatly said (what for a native to say would be death), " Ukiikii a ndi vionw, pa" (Ukuku is only a man), added some entreaties, and enforced them with a small gift, until the man him- self laughed, and went away satisfied, leaving the child in her hands. About noon of the same day, just as school was closed, another cry of fear was raised, — the children scattered in all directions. Some immediately re- turned after the first paroxysm of fear; others were apprehended and brought back by the more faithful of our native assistants; others had fled to their villages. Miss Latta rose from a couch of weakness to meet the trying circumstances, and, gathering the returning children, locked them in her own room, partly for retention and partly to gratify their own wish to escape the light of day and Ukuku's face. While at dinner, three women, belonging to a man who had three girls in the school, came and demanded their children. These being safely locked up, Miss Latta told them she would yield them only to their father. They 104 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. reviled her, but the dinner was proceeded with. Presently their husband came, in blustering, drunken haste. Miss Latta knew him well, and hinted that when drunk his vanity was man- ageable. He drew a long knife and plunged at our dog that had sprung at him. The dog was bidden down, the angry man appeased; Mrs. McQueen adroitly invited him to the table at the best seat, and his plate was heaped with yams, and bread, and chicken, and plantain. He became voluble, friendly, and witty ; dismissed his women; requested to see his two younger children; with a face terrible in passion ordered them to remain at school ; passed his knife across his own throat as a threat of what he would do if they disobeyed, and handed them back to Miss Latta. Before she had been two years on the island, the mission was indebted to her for valuable assistance in unraveling some knots in the incomplete Benga grammar. Though she did not know as many words as older missionaries, she knew as much of the idioms, and could at that time talk almost as well as any. Outside of the school her interest was drawn especially to the women, slaves, and children. The common phrase, as they entered the public reception-room of the Maluku house, was, " Mbi ma viyandi ka yene Mama Lata' (I have come to see Miss Latta). The mission force was still further reduced, May 20, 1862, by the de- A ROMANCE. 105 parture of Rev. Messrs. Clemens and De Heer to Gaboon, for America; the former to find an ocean burial on the way. Some portions of the Corisco work suffered by their absence. But the girls' school continued to flourish ; no change in Miss Latta's work or position being made by her change of name to Mrs. Nassau, on September 17, 1862, as she entered the third year of her African life. • " There blend the ties that strengthen Our hearts in hours of gnrief, The silver links that lengthen Joy's visits when most brief." CHAPTER IX. A ROMANCE. 9 1862. Corisco. " Responds, — as if, with unseen wings, An angel touched its quivering strings ; And whispers, in its song, ' Where hast thou stayed so long ?' " Ancestral associations, similar in birth, station, culture, and family covenant blessing : early co- residence in State and town : paths of life that had often approached in curves parabolic, or crossed 10 I06 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. in lines eccentric during academic training, by town, on streets, and at public gatherings : only- names known while yet there was no acquaint- ance, until a passing introduction, by what people call chance, on the eve of her sailing to Africa ; almost the entire conversation at which could be comprised in, "I shall see you again in Africa:" hands that worked together in mission-house and church : feet that together led the merry school- girls, and with them romped the Esowe beach, or clambered Ugoni's tangled path, or raced on Kam- ba's sands, or clambered Upe's gnarled trees, or exulted in excursion to Leva, or Alongo, or Ugobi, or Elwe : tastes consonant : dispositions unlike, not contrary, and therefore complementary: lone- liness that sought in all these one of God's com- pensations for what had been left in dear homes six thousand miles away : sentiments that found congenial soil in the beauty of tropic light and leaf and flower : respect and deference born of characters tested by storm, wild adventure, and trying ordeal : two lives twining like tropic con- volvuli in a common dependence that was unrecog- <^ I nized — unless to woman's finer intuitions — until one said, — " I was not playing. But perhaps presuming. 1 had heard your affections were engaged in America. Will forgiving the presumption imply forgetting the presumer ?" yl ROMANCE. 107 " You were misinformed. And the forgiveness is as you please." So the little three-cornered note replied, — " Yours, " Mary." The school-girls did not receive the announce- ment with satisfaction. Looking on betrothal from their heathen stand-point in woman's lot, it meant to them surveillance, restriction, and an end to personal liberty. One of them, with too full a knowledge of heathen ways, looking upon it as an expression by their loved teacher of an intention in reference to another, and not as a contract between two, asked curiously, as if it were an intrusted secret, "And does Dr. Nassau know?" In others jealousy was aroused. Judging their teacher by the measure of the little love they had seen in their own villages, they imagined that the affection plighted was just so much to be ab- stracted from themselves. Her native female friends in the villages were disposed to object. One of them made a formal call at Maluku, and in a set speech warned her of the trials of married life, asking her whether she did not know how much accustomed men were to beat their wives. The laugh that could scarcely restrain itself courteously till the speech was done, and then resounded through the house as her best response to such dismal warnings, seemed to the I08 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. prophetess of evil a strange fatuity that was' ex- pHcable only by a native's usual reference to " iitcm- T{gaui's'" (foreigner's) incomprehensible ways. But all were soon satisfied when they found that instead of losing one friend they had intensified another. And they were not slow, in their knowl- edge of human nature, to point requests for small favors by ''o nymiga ya Mtiina Lata" (for the sake of Miss Latta), and to add unnecessary assurances of their own love for her. During the mail's delay of several months, until the 17th of September, 1862, waiting for responses of welcome from respective friends in America, the prospective ceremony was made — like everything else in the missionary life, even things which in civilization would be secluded in the sacredness of x/ home privacy — a te^t, in frequent conversations with natives, to mark the dignity and honor that Christianity put on marriage in contrast with the entire absence of contract and almost of ceremony in heathenism. To the same end, on the eve of the day, messen- gers were sent all over the island to the headmen of the villages to notify them of the " white man's" wedding that was to be held in the church on the next evening. A German botanist, Herr Mann, a Christian gentleman who was staying with the mission at the time, exercised his skill and taste in the selection A ROMANCE. 109 and arrangement of flowers and 'orange-blossom wreaths. The Rev. William Walker, of Gaboon, made the usual tedious journey to Corisco to per- form the ceremony. The nativ^e employees of the several stations drew on their monthly earnings wherewith to in- dulge in new suits of a shirt and five yards of calico to grace the feast, provided by Mrs. Mc- Queen, that was to follow. Just after sunset, the low-roofed bamboo church of Evangasimba was filled with several hundred curious spectators. Some of them had seen the ceremony performed for native Christians in pri- vate houses, but only once before had they wit- nessed it in the church and for missionaries. On the dark forms of some, and on the brilliant- colored cloths of others, the dim light from a few impromptu lanterns made of tin cracker-boxes, aided by the rays of flaring candles, contrasted strangely with the civilized dress of the missionary pair, who, under the shadows of the limes, and cocoas, and oranges, and guavas that arched the front door, had awaited a signal to advance to the brighter light of the pulpit kerosene-lamp, where Mr. Mackey had meanwhile been improving the occasion by some preliminary religious services. " It was the time of roses." no CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. CHAPTER X. A W I F E, AND THE SCHOOL. 1863-1864. Corisco. The Sea. " ' Go, little boat ; go, soft and safe, And guard the symbol spark !' Soft, safe, doth float the little boat Across the waters dark. The river floweth on." The Maluku house, though the same that Mrs. Nassau had occupied for two years before her marriage, was invested, as she entered the third year of her African life, with the new interest of Home. It was a story-and-a-half frame house, thatched with palm-leaf (?;^77 our best, and most devoted sister has been taken. We can say of her, as of but few, she had not an enemy ; but, oh, how many friends ! Says one, " I never so felt the death of a comparative stranger before." And, indeed, no one felt her long to be a stranger. I can see the tears spring to the eyes of the dark-browed sons and daughters of Ethi- opia, for whom she lived and died, as they repeat, in subdued tones, "Mama N'assd a zvcjidi" (Our mother is dead). And well they may feel it, for they are orphans, indeed. Years ago she turned away from all the allure- ments of home, friends, position, and influence, and, at her Saviour's bidding, turned her glad and eager footsteps to the darkest of all lands, — and there she lived, loved, labored, and died; and from thence she went to her reward. Ere this she has cast her bright crown at the Saviour's feet, with many jewels. She heard the voice and followed the footsteps of the Good Shepherd, though the path lay through much trial and self-sacrifice; but, when the way became too rugged, and her strength exhausted, He has taken her to His bosom. Oh, that we were all thus " meet for the inherit- ance of the saints in light !" And how shall we become so ? By following the noble example she has left, and which can never be forgotten by those who knew her. Let this Mary, like Mary of Bethany, be a leading star to guide wise women 378 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. to Christ, — to teach them, not like the pensive recluse, to live only in and for themselves, but to go forth, as did she, to bless the perishing and unpitied of earth, — to give to the Saviour, as did she, the dew of her youth ; and God will accept the sacrifice. God has taken her from us, and we can only say, as she was wont to, under circumstances of trial, " He doeth all things well." " Go, gentle spirit, to thy wished-for rest ; Thy work was done ; thy Saviour's will obeyed ; His presence was with thee in every scene Of duty and of trial, and when He Saw fit that thou should'st leave thy toils and come To Him, 'twas best, 'twas infinitely best To change the dimmer sphere of earth for Heaven." FROM MRS. ISABELLA S. MACKEY. New London, Pa., January 24, 1 87 1. ... I could weep with you more easily than try to comfort you. What a host of memories crowd upon me when I think of Evangasimba, and the dear ones with whom we had such companionship there ! But they are gone, to occupy a higher station. What a happy company they must make in Heaven ! — your sainted wife, and my dear, de- parted husband, and Mr. Paull, and Mr. Ogden, and all the others who have labored and loved in that far-off land. How happy they will be ! CYPRESS LEAVES. 379 It is comforting that any of the natives are qualified to fill stations left vacant. . . . FROM REV. VV. H. CLARK. PoNCA, Dixon Co., Nebraska, Jan. 25, 1 87 1. ... It cast a heavy gloom upon us, and vividly recalled the years of unbroken friendship and sweet intercourse with her that we enjoyed. Though Heaven is the richer for her transfer, earth, and especially poor Africa, is sadly poorer. . . . Our hearts go out in sympathy with you and your sis- ter, left so alone, and with so much resting on you. How you must miss her cheerful smile, her words of encouragement in hours of darkness. She knew how to cast her burdens upon the Lord, and her cheerfulness had a real and proper basis. Her faith was not misplaced, for Africa shall be redeemed ; and her example and influence will, I feel assured, play no mean part in the great work. You, dear brother, especially, and we all, have been highly privileged in being allowed communion so long with such a lovely spirit, such a great and noble heart, so full of charity, or rather so full of " the mind of Jesus." . . . OBITUARY. The following outlines are extracted from a sketch of Mrs. Nassau's life and character, in the Presbyterian oi^Qhrxidixy 11, 1871. 38o CROWNED IN PALM- LAND. Gifted with a quick and comprehensive intelli- gence, she had improved it well by study. At the Academy, as a child, her spelling was perfect. Her letters and other writings, written with flow- ing pen, and without laborious reference to a dic- tionary, are marred by few inaccuracies. Geometry was play ; languages recreation. With only an imperfect grammar, and slight occasional assist- ance from a native interpreter and others, she rapidly acquired the Benga by chatting with her little pupils, learning to speak almost as fast as she did to read. One-third of the first edition of the Benga Hymns is her translation or original composition ; and it was principally her zeal that incited others to the addition of the other hymns of the second edition. The selection and com- pilation of the spelling- and small reading-lessons of the Benga Primer are almost entirely her un- aided work. She even began the study of He- brew, that a contemplated translation of Ruth and Jonah might conform to the rule of the Bible Society, requiring a translator to read from the original. This she did at Benita as a recreation, at irregular times, when wearied by other work. With Tregelles and Gesenius in her hand she be- came able to read fairly. Teaching never was a tedious work, nor did she do any duty as if it was a labor. Everything was entered on in a spirit of light-heartedness. The CYPRESS LEA VES. 3 8 1 ease with which her own mind grasped any study, and her love for youth, made her choose a teacher's Hfe at Trenton, and afterward at Chest- nut HilL At the latter place she was particularly successful ; the school, without the necessary re- strictions of boarding, suited her freedom of man- ner, and it being her own little dominion, she governed readily by love. Freshness of heart, in- terest in childhood, vivid presentations of truth, made her apt to " teach." At the Corisco Girls' School her pupils never were " glad to get away from teacher," but on the playground, in the house, and even pursuing her to her own room, and breaking needed rest and privacy, they clung to her lively descriptions of other lands, and Bible scenes and history. At Benita, in the confusion of a first settlement, before there was time to establish a day-school, and where there were but two completed rooms, the evening was taken up by teaching the alphabet and spelling. Scores of young men in church and trade owe their reading to her. She seemed to move in an atmosphere whose magnetism drew all classes, especially of children and women. None were afraid of her; all were at once at ease in her presence. An affectionate heart, that had been early deprived of the love of parents and brothers, and had never known a sister's, took in its warm embrace all who were 33 382 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. thrown into her sphere. Pupils, husband, children — the poor, the afflicted, the oppressed, all rested in a love that was not demonstrative or violent, but sunshiny, deep, constant. With this gentle tone and manner, there were not wanting firmness and decision. Having had only brothers for home playmates gave her fear- lessness; bereft of parents, she had learned, in thought and action, independence. These lent to her manners a piquant simplicity that was exceed- ingly refreshing in its disregard of forms and con- ventionalisms ; and to her decisions a promptness that was quick, and, for a pupil or other subordin- ate who would attempt rebellion, could be start- ling — particularly when accompanied by an un- usual tone and gesture of command. A distinguishing trait of Mrs. Nassau was her generosity ; she was perfectly unselfish. She sac- rificed herself for any and all. In school recita- tions, so that an ambitious friend should take the honor which she seemed just to fail to attain. In private the poor and the suppliant received from her hand — not in the charity that gives to get rid of importunity, but because, in the charity in which "judgment hath no part," she pitied. The mission- ary salar>' was each year supplemented from her little patrimony, to obtain comforts, conveniences, or a few luxuries, the enjoyment of which helped to stand up against the climate, and without which CYPRESS LEAVES. 383 she would either sooner have fallen or had to re- turn. In her benefactions one hand so literally knew not what the other did, that her memory would be offended if they were detailed. Her excellence in attending the sick, and especially in- fants, made frequent calls for her help both in the mission and among the natives, A slight acquaint- ance with her father's medical books, increased by subsequent study, with a desire to help the suffer- ing, and a quick judgment to diagnose and to de- cide on the indicated remedy, made her a good physician. She read regularly the Medical and Surgical Reporter, and studied combinations with clearness. Her babes found in their fond mother a most skillful nurse. There was a quiet patience in submission to trial, meek endurance of wrong, and a sweet forgiveness that was Christ-like. With decided views, and a keen sense for and love of justice that made her cordially hate wrong and all meanness, she was tolerant of others, and charitable to the tempted and fallen. Indeed, one sometimes wondered to see her, like her Master, eating with publicans and sinners. Mrs. Nassau was eminently fitted for the new scenes and emergencies of pioneer life. She adapted herself to circumstances, and, not fasti- dious, her cultivated tastes did not make necessity bitter. Though not strong in body, she had great 384 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. self-command. Sudden danger made her calm, and an alert perception suggested resource. When Ukuku (the spirit whose oracles govern the native tribes, and whose frown is sometimes death) tried to frighten away the school-girls at Corisco, she quietly locked them in her room, and faced the raging women and drunken men who were press- ing into the house. When that same spirit assailed the Benita house, she, pale but calm, sat listening to the musket-shots of the fight outside. But the mission will most miss her for her judg- ment — impartial, wise, and, by close observation and long experience among the natives, almost unerring. EvcrytJiing at Benita tells of her. She had a keen interest in all that was done, from the building of a chicken-coop to the cutting of a sail — from the giving of a book to a new pupil to the examination of a candidate before session, she, either as interested spectator or trusted counsellor, knew of everything. She had wonderful insight into character, and was rarely deceived by the fairest pretences of the sharpest natives. Her piety lay in the deep convictions of the heart, and was realized in her life of devotion to humanity. Though her letters and fond notes are warmed and lighted by her love to the Saviour, she did not in conversation speak of thoughts and feelings — rarely spoke even of religion as a topic ; but the daily retiring to the closet, the Bible a con- CYPRESS LEAVES. 385 stant companion in her room, and the often-suffused eye, told of communings with Jesus, ReHgion was so lived by her, and her peace flowed so like a river absent of tides, that it was unmarked because without fluctuation. This appearance of quiet waiting grew in this last year of her life, 1870, the close of which she, in its beginning, said she did not expect to see. On her death-bed she uttered no fears, nor breathed excited aspirations. She quietly remarked that she understood, by the de- pression disease makes, how unfit a place a death- bed is for preparation ; and this not in the despair of one failing in an attempt to prepare, but in the calm survey of one prepared. Her trust in God was complete, and she had no words of anxiety for her two boys, saying they would be well cared for. Some who knew Mary Latta as a merry school- girl may not recognize this portrait. They did not know her truly. Some did wonder that the witty girl, whose laugh or practical (never unkind) joke had so delighted, was going as a missionary to Africa. Though that cheerful disposition and light heart were chastened by the burdens and weariness of uninterrupted years, they never were crushed. They were the life of the missionary company ; were one reason of her so long sustain- ing herself. A noble woman, a devoted wife and fond mother, a skillful teacher, an accomplished missionary, a sincere Christian. 33* 386 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. FROM MRS. GEORGIANNA M. m'qUEEN. LONGMEADOW, MASS., February 26, 1871. . . . How sudden to you Mrs. Nassau's death ; for, although you can look back nozv and see that her health was failing month by month, at the time you could not realize it. . . . God has ordered it otherwise. It is a comfort to you, as you think of her last hours, that they were so free from pain. You needed not dying testimony to be assured that she was ready to go, — that her lamp was trimmed and burning. What a change for her, — lying down in weak- ness, awakening in Heaven ! As you bore her life- less body back to her African home, she would not have returned to it and to her husband and chil- dren, whom she loved so tenderly, could she have done so, for she had seen her Saviour, — the King in His glory, — which was far better. But you and your sister, in your loneliness and sorrow, need sympathy ; and you have it, not only from your family and friends, from your missionary associates, but from those who, not knowing you personally, love the work in which you are en- gaged, and are saddened when a beloved laborer falls. Mrs. Nassau was unusually well qualified for her work, — cheerful, hopeful, and inspired others. CYPRESS LEAVES. 387 Should the mission be reinforced, it will be a long time before another lady can be competent to do the work Mrs. Nassau could do, or can obtain the influence over the natives which she had. Her cheerful, pleasant words attracted them, and her kind words made them friends. . . . Mrs. Walker, writing to Miss I. A. Nassau, from Bloomfield, N. J., Nov. 22, 1872, about the two boys' photographs, says, — " I delight to trace the lineaments of their sainted mother in their dear faces. How precious her memory to us ! I love to tell the story of her life to those who love the cause of missions, and love to work for Jesus. But there is no circum- stance of her life that impresses me more than that peaceful death, on the open sea, during the silent watches of the night. I seem to see the very spot, — the boat gliding along. And that anxious com- pany. Each one. The dead ; the stricken hus- band; poor motherly Mrs. Sneed, with Charley; darling Charley, so precious to his mother in life ! And that sympathizing company of boatmen, " Strange that one so tender and delicate as she should cross and recross the ocean, and pass away 388 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. from earth to her home on high in such a manner! How little those who were training her so care- fully in her childhood imagined such a thing ! But I have often thought, knowing, as I did, Mrs. Nas- sau's beautiful character and noble mind, if she could have known or thought there was a possibility of her dying just as she did, she would not have hesitated a moment to have entered that path in life's journey, ending as it did. It was sad for the loved ones she left ; but, oh, not for her, — not for her. ..." Miss Sue F. Campbell, — a schoolmate of Mrs. Nassau, — of Rock Spring, Centre Co., Pa., wrote, February 25, 1873, to Miss I. A. Nassau, of an article in Woman's Work for Woman: " I, too, dear friend, mourned for Africa when, as you say to the ladies of Marion, ' one beloved work after another was abandoned.' I have vivid recol- lections of earnest seasons at the throne of grace as sickness or death removed the laborers, till you and your brother were the only representatives of the church in America. I rejoice that a brighter day has dawned ; new laborers in the field ; our dark-browed sisters arousing to the gospel call. . . . An item in the Presbyterian, some weeks CYPRESS LEA VES. 389 since, from 'An African Missionary,' respecting * Woodstock,' moistened my eyes, I can name him, for I know who made ' two mounds in the white sands of Benita.' " Some verses that I addressed to Mrs. Nassau in America, in 1863, ehcited a request for the com- position of an extended article, with "Africa" as the theme. Occasion for compHance with her wish was not presented until my own return, in 1872, by a formal invitation to address a literary society, in March of that year. The following extract alludes to the cemetery in which she lies : 'Tis chosen well, that little yard Of missionary graves, . Just near the house they liked on earth. And by the ocean's waves. The forest trees are undisturbed By axe or Art's curt style, Save where a winding path pursues Nature's own wooded aisle. The vines may clamber unrestrained, And light fall cheerily O'er grass and bush, where birds untamed Still twitter merrily. 390 CROWNED IN PALM-LAND. But Art its ^(/i/tv/ hand has set (Not taken aught away) Where Love has sought, on marble fair To save from Time's decay Dear names, whose lives and mem'ries rare We cannot willingly forget. There Infancy was laid to rest, And Manhood in his strength, And patient Womanhood. How blest To reach their Home at length ! There, too, beneath the fervid sky, \\Tiere sunbeams blaze by day ; Or, when the moon is mounted high, Cool mystic shadows play ; Where stars so silently look down Through vistas of the night. From Southern Cross and Southern Crown, On marble cold and white ; The light of sun and moon and star On tablet-sculptured cross rests calm, — Benita's brave-borne cross of Jier Who wears Benita's Crown and Palm. " Lone midnight hour on the sea, what watchers were with thee ? What step divine walked on the wave? What angel ministry? Would not our loved have chosen thus, all in the holy night. Up that star-lighted tropic sky, to pass tke realms of light? Bear back the dear unbrcathing clay! Benita's dark-browed band Will lay it tenderly away in their own Palmy land." THE END. DATE DUE __^« •HlfMPP^ r* IWWU'II w ^dftut^r^ >S5!a«*' "'^ISJwi^Ji 1?, ■^wf^lWNP^Vf »«»-, V GAYLORD FHINTED IN U.S.A.