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 American fiercest* 
 
 ON 
 
 MISSION FIELDS. 
 
 WILLIAM GOODELL, D. D. 
 
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“They counted not their lives dear unto them¬ 
 selves.” 
 
 -» . 
 
 American Heroes 
 
 ON 
 
 MISSION FIELDS. 
 
 BRIEF MISSIONARY BIOGRAPHIES. 
 
 H. C. HAYDN, D. D., EDITOR. 
 
 NO. 5. 
 
 WILLIAM GOODELL, D. D. 
 
 BY 
 
 PRESIDENT S. C. BARTLETT, D. D. 
 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
 
 150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
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AMERICAN HEROES 
 
 ON 
 
 MISSION FIELDS. 
 
 ■ * ■ — 
 
 V. WILLIAM GOODELL.* 
 
 Many years ago nothing could be found that marked 
 the birthplace of William Goodell in the little town of 
 Templeton, Mass., but the traces of a cellar-hole on a 
 hillside. But in the year 1792 there stood on that spot 
 a one-story house, containing a garret floored with 
 rough boards, and two rooms below. One of these 
 rooms answered all the purposes of kitchen, dining¬ 
 room, family room, and parlor; the other, reached by 
 passing through the first, was a small bedroom, con¬ 
 taining a bed for the parents, and beneath it a trundle- 
 bed that was rolled out at night for the children. It 
 was three miles from the Congregational church and 
 from the family physician, but not far, apparently, from 
 
 * The materials for this sketch have been drawn almost wholly 
 from the ample store contained in the volume, “ Forty Years in 
 the Turkish Empire,” by E. D. G. Prime, D. D., often in the words 
 of the author, and, when practicable, in Mr. Goodell’s own lan¬ 
 guage. 
 
4 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES'. 
 
 the district school. In this little cottage was raised up 
 to maturity a family of eight children, of whom William 
 Goodell was one. There was no lock or bolt on any 
 door, and no key to any trunk or drawer, so little was 
 there to protect. The family library consisted chiefly, 
 if not solely, of the family Bible, “ Watts’ Psalms and 
 Hymns,” Doddridge’s “ Rise and Progress,” Pike’s 
 “ Cases of Conscience,” the second volume of “ Fox’s 
 Book of Martyrs,” and the “Assembly’s Catechism.” 
 But this scanty religious aliment nourished a most no¬ 
 ble and godly father and mother. 
 
 Mrs. Goodell, the mother, though called to a life of 
 pinching economy, and at length of protracted and 
 painful illness, was the embodiment of delicacy, neat¬ 
 ness, taste, and industry, as well as of meekness, kind¬ 
 ness, and devoted piety. Her son used in after days to 
 remember her as she sat carding wool by the light of a 
 pine knot and singing “ beautiful hymns ” to her chil¬ 
 dren; as ministering to the needy from her scanty 
 means, and governed in all her speech by the law of 
 love; as absorbed with the desire that her children 
 might be the children of God; and as passing away at 
 last from her bed of suffering in triumph, with a “ halle¬ 
 lujah ” on her lips, interrupted in the midst, and “ fin¬ 
 ished on the other side of Jordan.” “ O my kind 
 mother,” exclaimed the son a generation later, “what 
 would I not give to see thy gentle face once more, and 
 on my knees to ask ten thousand pardons for every 
 unkind word I ever answered thee and for every grief 
 or pain I unnecessarily caused thee!” 
 
WILLIAM GOODELL 
 
 5 
 
 The piety of Mr. Goodell, the father, was of the 
 rarest type. He seemed literally to meditate day and 
 night in God’s law. He was a man of prayer—praying 
 aloud as he rode on horseback, praying in his heart for 
 the stranger whom he met, praying over every rod of 
 ground he cultivated. He was also full of the mission¬ 
 ary spirit before the full time of missions was come. 
 Every Sunday, whatever might be the weather, found 
 him and his on the way to the distant church. He sat 
 on the stout old family horse, holding one child in his 
 arms, the wife sat on a pillion behind him with another 
 child in her arms, and still a third child clung to her. 
 After the Sunday dinner, which had been cooked the 
 day before, the family were summoned to the catechism, 
 which they were expected to have learned by heart. 
 When they slept in the trundle-bed, the children were 
 taught to close their day with the Lord’s Prayer and 
 “ Now I lay me down to sleep.” Mr. Goodell was so 
 conscientious in his dealings that he often seemed to be 
 more careful for the interests of others than for his own. 
 The world did not go smoothly with him. There had 
 been a time when he owned a hundred acres free from 
 encumbrance. But a lung-fever, which laid him aside 
 from his work for a year, was followed by long-contin¬ 
 ued illness in the family. His property melted away, 
 till in the later years of his life he lived on a pension of 
 ninety-six dollars a year, paid him as a soldier of the 
 Revolution. “And though to his children he left no 
 inheritance, no, not so much as a cent, yet,” said his 
 son William, “ in his godly example and prayers he has 
 
6 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 left them the very richest legacy which any father ever 
 
 ♦ 
 
 left to his children.” When he died at the venerable 
 age of eighty-six, his intercourse with heaven had be¬ 
 come so constant in his later years that “ we can hardly 
 suppose,” says the same son, “ it was ever interrupted 
 in his waking hours fifteen minutes at a time.” 
 
 In such a home as this was William Goodell born, 
 in the midst of a furious snowstorm, on the 14th day of 
 February, 1792. The boy early proved to be full of 
 vivacity and humor and to have a remarkably retentive 
 memory. But his constitution was delicate. It was evi¬ 
 dent that he never could endure a life of manual labor, 
 and no higher expectation was entertained for him than 
 that he might become a teacher in the lower branches 
 of education. He was always a conscientious boy, but 
 not a professor of religion till the age of nineteen. In a 
 revival of religion at that time (A. D. 1811), the faithful 
 prayers of his “gentle mother” were answered, and 
 very likely her blessed memory honored—for she had 
 passed away two years before—by his public avowal of 
 faith in Christ. He had then no purpose to be either a 
 missionary or a preacher. But the Lord led him on 
 step by step. It had become the intense desire of the 
 father’s heart that he should be a minister of the gospel. 
 He encouraged the son to attempt an education, although 
 he had no money and knew no way to bring it about. 
 At length they heard that beneficiary aid was given at 
 Phillips Academy, and the son caught at the hope. 
 He walked and rode sixty miles to Andover, and “ foot¬ 
 ed it the whole distance ” home again, weary and foot- 
 
WIEEIAM GOODKUy. 
 
 7 
 
 sore, with little encouragement and a heavy heart. The 
 charity fund was overloaded, other applicants were 
 waiting, and he must in any case get on for one quar¬ 
 ter without help. But how? And on this question 
 they prayed and thought, and thought and prayed, till 
 the time came for the term to begin. Then, “ without 
 money, without credit, and without any plan,” he put 
 his books and clothing into his trunk, strapped it upon 
 his back, and took up his march. 
 
 GETTING AN EDUCATION. 
 
 There is no braver or more pathetic sight than that 
 of William Goodell plodding through that sixty miles, 
 with the trunk chafing his back to the permanent injury 
 of his spine, the boys hooting at him in the str ets, and 
 he, weary and silent, steadily holding the middle of the 
 road to save extra steps till he stood on Andover hill; 
 depositing his trunk in the entry of the Principal, going 
 forth with list after list of licensed boarding-places, to 
 be -refused by every one, and bursting into tears on his 
 fruitless return; then afterwards stealing out unper¬ 
 ceived to find a home in an unlicensed house, that of a 
 profane and intemperate shoemaker with an earnest 
 Christian wife. It makes one’s heart ache to think 
 of it. 
 
 His first lesson showed the quality of the youth. It 
 was in the Latin Grammar. When called on, he recited 
 the first page verbatim , coarse print and fine, notes and 
 all, then the next page, and the third in like manner, 
 more in extent than was assigned, and much that was 
 
8 
 
 American heroes. 
 
 only to be read and not recited. Said Mr. Adams, the 
 Principal, “You must have studied this before.” Said 
 young Goodell, “ I never saw a Latin Grammar till you 
 gave me this.” He had made his mark. He was put 
 in a class with two other choice boys, and the three be¬ 
 came the delight of Mr. Adams; never absent, never 
 tardy or unprepared, and mastering their lessons “ till 
 it seemed real fun for him to hear us.” Near the end 
 of the quarter Lieutenant-Governor Phillips volun¬ 
 teered to bear the expenses of the three, to their inex¬ 
 pressible relief. 
 
 In his second year at Andover his uncle, Solomon 
 Goodell, of Jamaica, Vt., had written to Preceptor 
 Adams to know if the young man was “ worth raising,” 
 and received such a reply that he sent him a fine yoke 
 of oxen. These were sold next day for money enough 
 to pay the bills of the year. So had a good Provi¬ 
 dence smoothed the way of the penniless boy. 
 
 Here the influence of that admirable teacher, Mr. 
 John Adams, the preaching of Porter, Woods, and 
 Stuart, and all the new surroundings gradually and 
 greatly changed the thoughts and purposes of this boy 
 “just out of the woods.” But the most memorable 
 event in his experience at this time, perhaps, was his 
 attendance on the ordination of the first young Ameri¬ 
 can missionaries, Judson, Newell, Hall, Nott, and Rice, 
 at Salem. The day was bitterly cold, the way slippery, 
 and the young men, of whom he was one, walked twenty 
 miles, straining every muscle to arrive in time. The 
 new and solemn service made a profound impression. 
 
WILLIAM GOODEN. ‘ 9 
 
 At the close he started for Andover without rest or re¬ 
 freshment, but became so worn out as to need the sup¬ 
 port of his friends, and reached home so exhausted as 
 to lie down before the fire in an alarming state of ex¬ 
 haustion. But he felt amply repaid, for it filled his 
 heart for life with the missionary spirit. 
 
 From Phillips Academy he entered Dartmouth 
 College in company with his friend, Daniel Temple, 
 each induced by the offer of a hundred dollars a year 
 from the beneficiary funds of Kimball Union Academy, 
 at Meriden, N. H. Every winter he taught school. In 
 every school he aimed to secure the spiritual good of 
 his pupils, and in Keene, N. H., his efforts were attend¬ 
 ed with very deep religious interest. 
 
 While in college he was wholly unambitious, never 
 spending a thought on college honors. He was hin¬ 
 dered by his delicate health, which limited his time of 
 actual study to little more than three hours a day. But 
 those were hours of intense and earnest concentration. 
 And he graduated with the third appointment—Presi¬ 
 dent James Marsh and Bishop Carlton Chase outranking 
 him. The glimpses that we get of his college life reveal 
 the same mingling of genial humor, intense earnestness, 
 activity, and piety which characterized his whole subse¬ 
 quent life. A letter from Temple—his academy, college, 
 and seminary chum, his fellow-missionary, and life-long 
 friend—written December 21, 1816, while Temple was 
 teaching at Boscawen and Goodell at Keene, incident¬ 
 ally implies all this and more. Temple opens with a 
 subject that lay near both their hearts, “ the proceed- 
 
IO 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 ings of the infatuated Legislature of this State,” which 
 “ with gigantic strides directs its course towards Dart¬ 
 mouth,” to “ transform our good old Alma Mater and 
 stuff their evanescent university with professorships as 
 fugitive as the gales of autumn.” But he trusts “ the 
 same Providence which has hitherto blasted their pur¬ 
 poses and turned their designs into foolishness.” It 
 was the famous Dartmouth College case. Temple is 
 boarding with a physician “as risible as yourself,” and 
 thinks of his friend on a certain occasion as “walking 
 with a ‘ lady by your side.’ ” He himself would gladly 
 “ dispense with about a score of giggling boys from his 
 school.” Their friend Boardman, of Norwich, had 
 “ brought a piece of cloth, a present to Goodell and 
 Temple” from certain ladies of his and their acquaint¬ 
 ance, enough for two pairs of trousers. Temple antici¬ 
 pates longingly a return to their “beloved scenes of 
 mutual friendship and colloquial felicity,” inquires ear¬ 
 nestly for the religious aspect of things at Keene, re¬ 
 ports the spiritual condition at Boscawen, laments his 
 own unworthiness, and invites his friend to meet him 
 often before the throne of their Father. 
 
 During their college course (in 1815) occurred the 
 most powerful revival ever witnessed in the institution, 
 the most remarkable indeed that Goodell ever knew. 
 The number of pious students in the upper classes had 
 been very small—only one in the Senior class. There 
 was no prayer-meeting conducted by students. The 
 Theological Society, apparently just formed, held its 
 sessions with locked doors and barred windows, to se- 
 
WIIrlylAM GOODELL. 
 
 II 
 
 cure itself against interruption. But about this time the 
 society unanimously voted that each member should, 
 during the coming week, converse with at least three 
 fellow-students on personal religion. They did so— 
 “ some of them with thirty times three,” for at once the 
 Spirit descended in a most remarkable manner. Many 
 of the finest scholars in college and many of the young 
 people of the village were converted. The room of 
 Temple and Goodell was thronged from morning till 
 night with inquirers. Goodell never wearied of recall¬ 
 ing that precious time and its bright array of converts, 
 among whom he specially enumerates Professors Tor- 
 rey, Fisk, Bush, Upham, and Haddock (and Miss Lang, 
 afterwards his wife), Presidents Wheeler, Marsh, and 
 Cushing, Bishop Chase, and “ the beloved missionary, 
 Levi Spaulding,” who “ gave his heart to God under a 
 pine-tree that will be remembered in heaven.” In his 
 old age Goodell wrote, “ I do not know that we were 
 ever more honored of God as his instruments of doing 
 good than during those blessed years.” 
 
 - MISSIONARY IMPULSES. 
 
 Near the close of his Freshman year he seems first 
 to have raised the question of entering the missionary 
 work. He was profoundly stirred by the life of Harriet 
 Newell. “ I could not restrain my tears while looking 
 on her likeness.” In July the following year he was 
 present at the ordination of six missionaries at New- 
 buryport—Mills, Richards, Meigs, Warren, Bardwell, 
 and Poor—and we learn nothing further of the leadings 
 
12 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 of his mind in this direction till we find him at Ando¬ 
 ver (in 1817), a member of that “sacred band”—with 
 its secret constitution written in cipher—the missionary- 
 band. Here the personal contact with Fisk, Parsons, 
 and Spaulding pressed home the question of duty, till 
 he adopted their determination “ to stop his ears against 
 all the apparently restricted calls of duty to remain at 
 home.” One difficulty remained—the dependent con¬ 
 dition of his father. This he removed by leaving the 
 seminary long enough to secure for him a pension as a 
 soldier of the Revolution, after which, receiving his 
 father’s approval and blessing, he recorded, Feb. 12, 
 1818, “And now’t is done.... Send me where Thou 
 wilt.” 
 
 During this year his heart was cheered by another 
 missionary ordination at Salem, where, he records of a 
 little company of ordained and expectant missionaries, 
 “there were eleven of us together, a number equal to 
 that of the apostles when they returned to Jerusalem 
 from Olivet.” It would seem to have been in this year 
 that another great life-question was virtually settled for 
 him. He had been greatly exercised as to a suitable 
 companion, “ had prayed more in reference to this sub¬ 
 ject than in reference to any other temporal subject 
 whatever,” and had often wished that some maternal 
 association or Moravian church would settle the matter 
 for him. But at length, in passing through the town of 
 Holden one Vacation, he was “providentially introduced 
 to a lady of singularly sweet disposition, modest appear¬ 
 ance, and dignified demeanor, bearing the name of Abi- 
 
Wily 1,1 AM GOODKlyly. 
 
 *3 
 
 gail P. Davis.” And from that day till the week before 
 his death, when he penned these words, he had “ been 
 so thankful that the business was not left to any mater¬ 
 nal association or to any church or to any other organ¬ 
 ization under heaven.” His last writing was an expres¬ 
 sion of love and commendation for this wife of his youth 
 and his old age. His own personal success, however, 
 did not prevent him from offering his services to his 
 friend Thurston in an emergency—suggesting the lady, 
 bringing about an introduction, securing the publish¬ 
 ment of the banns, and, in company with a lady friend, 
 visiting Boston to procure the outfit—all within the 
 space of three weeks before Thurston sailed for the 
 Sandwich Islands. 
 
 While in the theological seminary he spent his va¬ 
 cations in evangelistic work, visiting from house to 
 house, distributing tracts, and holding religious meet¬ 
 ings. His labors at Newcastle, N. H., were especially 
 blessed. After his graduation he made an engagement 
 to visit the churches and awaken an interest in foreign 
 missions. He began in the towns upon the Hudson 
 River, in one of which, the town of Catskill, he was 
 thrown from a carriage, and the beginning of his mis¬ 
 sionary labors came near being the end. He travelled 
 thence westward through the then almost unsettled por¬ 
 tions of New York, Ohio, and Indiana, and afterwards, 
 at the request of Secretary Evarts, visited the Indian 
 missions at the Southwest, travelling on horseback 
 much of the way through a wilderness. 
 
i4 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 IN MALTA AND BEIRUT. 
 
 On the 9th of December, 1822, Mr. Goodell, with 
 his wife, to whom he had been united three weeks pre¬ 
 viously, set sail, appointed to the mission in Palestine, 
 and expecting to labor at Jerusalem. But they never 
 saw the Holy City. For when, long afterwards, a friend 
 invited him to take the journey without expense, though 
 Jerusalem had been the dream and goal of his early 
 life, he would not leave his work to enjoy the gratifica¬ 
 tion. 
 
 They landed first at Malta, as was then the custom, 
 to commence the study of the languages, and, after a few 
 months, at Beirut. Here, though their stay was intend¬ 
 ed to be but temporary, they entered at once on active 
 labors, meanwhile pursuing the study of the Turkish, 
 Arabic, and Armenian languages. The polyglot con¬ 
 dition of the missionary company then gathered in Bei- 
 rut is illustrated by a remark in one of his letters: “We 
 almost daily read the Scriptures in ancient Greek, mod¬ 
 ern Greek, ancient Armenian, modern Armenian, Ar- 
 meno-Turkish, Arabic, Italian, and English, and fre¬ 
 quently hear them read in Syriac, Hebrew, and French.” 
 It was in the midst of the war between Greece and Tur¬ 
 key. Here came their first trial. A band of Greek 
 sailors landed on a pillaging expedition, and came to 
 his door, but left him unmolested. On their departure 
 the Albanians and Bedouins rushed in, terrified his fam¬ 
 ily, threatened his life, and committed violence and dep¬ 
 redations. By the ingenious device of sending a pic- 
 
WILLIAM GOODElyly. 15 
 
 ture of the scene to the Pasha of St. Jean D’Acre, how¬ 
 ever he obtained redress. 
 
 Soon after this commotion was fairly over persecu¬ 
 tion commenced. It was made by the ecclesiastics a 
 penal offence to salute the missionaries or render them 
 any service whatever. The Turks joined the combina¬ 
 tion. The missionaries were in constant apprehension 
 of personal violence when abroad, and at night knew 
 not what assaults might be made on them before morn¬ 
 ing. For two years Mr. Goodell seldom closed his eyes 
 to sleep without first thinking over the means of escape, 
 and seldom walked abroad without looking for places 
 of refuge. 
 
 At length new complications arose from the Greco- 
 Turkish war. The Turks were exasperated against all 
 Europeans, and the situation of the missionaries be¬ 
 came so perilous that, as Mr. Goodell wrote, “we almost 
 nod now and then to see whether our heads are on our 
 shoulders.” His family were sent for safety to the 
 mountains, where he could visit them only by stealth. 
 The continuance of the troubles determined them (in 
 1828) to withdraw for a time to Malta, where then, for 
 similar reasons, nearly all the American missionaries on 
 the Mediterranean were gathered. But already he had 
 commenced the great work of translating the Bible into 
 Armeno-Turkish, and while at Malta issued the entire 
 New Testament and sent it forth with a characteristic 
 prayer and benediction. 
 
i6 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 TRANSFER TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 
 
 And now, at length (in 1831), the American Board 
 sent him to the chief scene of his life-long labors, that 
 city of unrivalled situation, Constantinople. His wife 
 and the ladies who accompanied her were supposed to 
 be the first American ladies who ever visited that fa¬ 
 mous city, as Dr. Schauffler, who arrived a year later, 
 was the first person to introduce a cooking-stove and a 
 rocking-chair into the Turkish Empire.* Two months 
 after Goodell’s arrival in Constantinople, just as he was 
 established in his house and ready for work, came that 
 terrible conflagration which swept more than a square 
 mile of the city with indiscriminate destruction. It not 
 only consumed nearly every article of his property, in¬ 
 cluding grammars, dictionaries, commentaries, transla¬ 
 tions and manuscripts of every kind, but brought him 
 at last a narrow escape with his life. “ It reminded one 
 of the fires of the last day.” His losses were eventually, 
 in great measure, made up by friends. But he was for 
 a time a wanderer, and three weeks later found himself 
 in the vicinity of the plague and the cholera with a new¬ 
 born son in the family. At this time Commodore Por¬ 
 ter, our excellent charge d’ affaires, kindly offered him a 
 home for the winter, which was gratefully accepted; and 
 thus commenced an intimacy terminated only by the 
 death of Porter. He entered at once on his work with 
 that mingled activity, devotedness, and conciliation 
 
 * This was said to the writer by Dr. Schauffler in Constantino¬ 
 ple in 1874. 
 
WIIXIAM GOODI^RR. 
 
 17 
 
 which followed him throughout life. Within a few 
 weeks he had established among the Greeks four so- 
 called Lancasterian schools, which were soon largely 
 increased in number, and was engaged in his personal 
 work with the Armenians. 
 
 His principles were to prosecute his work diligently 
 but quietly, to avoid mere controversy and all move¬ 
 ments which would invite opposition, to leaven individ¬ 
 uals and communities with the gospel, and to aim at no 
 outward changes, except as the way was clearly pre¬ 
 pared by Providence. His ready wit and humor often 
 served him a good turn. Thus when the Patriarch’s 
 vicar was determined to force him into a dispute on the 
 eucharist, which would have frustrated the object of his 
 visit, he twice parried the effort with a pleasantry which 
 produced a general laugh, ended the discussion, and 
 kept all serene. 
 
 SICKNESS AND PERSECUTION. 
 
 His first school for girls, in May, 1832, created a 
 commotion which had hardly subsided when, in the 
 same summer, the city was visited with the plague, the 
 cholera, and rumors of war—the decisive war between 
 the Sultan and Ibrahim Pasha, the Viceroy of Egypt. 
 Many of his neighbors were carried off by the cholera, 
 and he did not escape without an attack. 
 
 The gospel began to take effect. The conversion of 
 Hohannes and Senakerim began the good work and the 
 counter-excitement, both of which went on by a kind of 
 action and reaction, intensifying as they went, until the 
 
i8 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 opposition became (in 1839) persecution, attended with 
 exile and imprisonment of the converts. But before 
 this persecution culminated he was again surrounded 
 by the plague in its most frightful form. The reported 
 victims for a time averaged from six to ten thousand a 
 week. All ordinary intercourse was broken off. Every 
 thing and person was fumigated. Letters were received 
 with tongs, and then disinfected. Families dared not 
 make purchases. Everything was suspended but sick¬ 
 ness and death. Mrs. Dwight and her son died, the 
 only ones of the missionary band. But they were all in 
 danger; indeed, all were in a very unusual manner ex¬ 
 posed to it. Goodell wrote: “ How many of us or who 
 of us may be alive after another week no man can tell.” 
 But he also wrote, not long before, while in the midst 
 of all the frightful precautions they were obliged to take, 
 “You would see us generally cheerful and happy, at¬ 
 tending to our translations, having our precious little 
 meetings together, and sometimes feeling that we were 
 probably within a day or two of heaven.” They were 
 then in the habit of often reading the ninety-first Psalm. 
 
 The persecution did not abate with the cholera. It 
 grew fiercer and fiercer, not only expending itself upon 
 the native converts and friends of the missionaries, but 
 threatening to break up all missionary operations and 
 banish the missionaries. Mr. Goodell calmly awaited 
 the expected order to leave, after having secreted in dif¬ 
 ferent places all his papers. But at the darkest moment 
 God interposed in the defeat of the Sultan’s army at 
 Aleppo, the sudden death of Sultan Mahmoud himself. 
 
WIL,L,IAM GOODE} L, I,. 
 
 *9 
 
 a great fire in Constantinople, and the impoverishment 
 and overthrow of many leading persecutors. The hand 
 of violence was arrested. 
 
 Other trials followed; indeed, they were scarcely in¬ 
 termitted. For two years there was uninterrupted ill¬ 
 ness in the home, and a beloved son, the firstborn of 
 Americans in Constantinople, was called away. There 
 are few tenderer and more touching tributes than his 
 account of the child’s sufferings, patience, and death. To 
 recount all the heavy and almost overwhelming strains 
 upon his faith, patience, and Christian courage would be 
 to follow him through most of his missionary life. But 
 no trials or afflictions seemed to depress his spirits or 
 to hinder his work. 
 
 THE ARMENO-TURKISH BIBLE. 
 
 In the year 1841 he had accomplished what may be 
 considered his one greatest achievement—the translation 
 of the entire Bible into the Armeno-Turkish language. 
 It was the toilsome but loving labor of many years, and 
 was revised again and again, to become one of the 
 great landmarks of missionary effort in Turkey and a 
 perpetual fountain of life. Eighteen years before its 
 publication the work had been urged upon him by Rev. 
 Pliny Fisk, and only his determination to make it as 
 perfect as possible, a permanent acquisition to a great 
 nation, prevented the issue of it long before. No one 
 can appreciate, without reading his own account, the 
 painstaking diligence, the conscientious use of helps, 
 printed and oral, far and near, the elaborate and oft- 
 
20 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 repeated scrutiny of individual passages, and, above all, 
 the devout and absorbing love with which the work was 
 carried through. “ My feelings have gone along with 
 those of the sacred writers to such a degree that often, 
 when alone in my study I have been reading a page 
 perhaps for the seventh time, I have had to stop to wipe^ 
 away the fast-flowing tears or to offer up such prayers 
 and praises as the subject called forth.” At this time 
 he spoke of it as the work of “ eight years.” But for 
 twelve years more he was engaged from time to time in 
 revising it, “with as much painstaking and prayerful¬ 
 ness as the original translation;” and it was only in 
 1863, four years before his death, that it finally left his 
 hands. 
 
 During much of the time, while engaged on this 
 translation, he found it necessary, after repeated trials 
 of a different course, to withdraw from active labors 
 abroad and devote himself “ to this and nothing else.” 
 And nothing is more noteworthy than the quiet resolu¬ 
 tion with which he steadily followed his own conscien¬ 
 tious convictions, and the unfaltering, genial good-na¬ 
 ture with which he received all manner of inconsiderate 
 advice and undiscerning criticism. He hardly ever al¬ 
 luded to the subject. But once, a few months before 
 this translation was published, he wrote to a fellow-mis¬ 
 sionary some of the conflicting suggestions which were 
 made to him: to give more time to his family; to work 
 more vigorously in translating; to do nothing but 
 “preach, preach, preach;” to write more letters to mis¬ 
 sionary stations and to all parts of America; to be more 
 
WILLIAM GOODELL. 
 
 21 
 
 constant in his correspondence with his many friends, 
 who say hard things about him. “ Now what to do I 
 know not. I would most gladly give my time to my 
 friends; I would give it all to my family; I would de¬ 
 vote it all to translating the Word of God; and I would 
 with all my heart spend it in publishing the good news. 
 But to devote the whole of it to each one of these ob¬ 
 jects is an impossibility. ... I must try more to please 
 my blessed Lord, and let the whole world go.” 
 
 A striking instance of mistaken criticism by an in¬ 
 telligent and friendly person occurred some years be¬ 
 fore. While at Beirut Mr. Goodell had translated 
 some tracts, and among them the “ Dairyman’s Daugh¬ 
 ter.” Just after the fire at Constantinople a distin¬ 
 guished medical gentleman from New York had spent 
 some months in the same house with Mr. Goodell and 
 in the pleasantest of relations. This gentleman, on his 
 return, published a volume in which, while commending 
 the activity of the missions, he regretted that “ such be¬ 
 nevolent efforts should in some instances have taken a 
 wrong direction.” And he mentioned,as a specific case 
 in point, this tract the “ Dairyman’s Daughter.” Now 
 it so happened that about the very time, 1832, when 
 this remark was published in New York, Mr. Goodell, 
 on a journey to Brusa, had passed through Nicomedia, 
 and at the door of a church had put this tract into the 
 hands of a boy and passed on. The boy carried it to 
 the priest, and he to another priest, and both these men, 
 Vertanes and Harutun, were converted by means of it; 
 a company of believers was organized by their efforts, 
 
AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 and the revival spread into the neighboring villages. 
 Long ago this tract was circulating in twenty languages. 
 
 OTHER LABORS. 
 
 After the publication of the Armeno-Turkish Bible, 
 Mr. Goodell was enabled to engage in a greater variety 
 of labors, and to exert a steadily growing influence 
 within and without the missionary circle. Those who 
 would fully understand the work, or appreciate the rare 
 spirit and the marvellous buoyancy and brightness of 
 the man, must be referred to the excellent narrative of 
 his life, entitled “ Forty Years in the Turkish Empire.” 
 His letters present a combination of devoutness, tender¬ 
 ness, quaintness, wisdom, wit, and facility seldom 
 equalled. They are remarkable alike for their inimita¬ 
 ble naturalness of style, their almost unconscious Scrip¬ 
 turalness of phraseology, their unfailing vivacity of 
 thought, and the genial humor that never could be 
 long repressed. They redeem the art of letter-writing 
 in modern times. Not the least pleasant aspect of his 
 correspondence is the thoughtfulness and love with 
 which, in their times of special joy or sorrow, or of his 
 own impulse, he remembers his old and distant friends: 
 his preceptor, Adams, his college classmate, Haddock, 
 his fellow-students Sidney E. Morse and the mission¬ 
 aries Winslow and Spaulding, his old friend Judge 
 Cooke, his long-time associate, Temple, his afflicted 
 missionary “sister” at Brusa, Mrs. Thurston, of the 
 Sandwich Islands, the widowed mother of a missionary 
 to Constantinople, Drs. Anderson, Schauffler, and many 
 
WIL, 1,1AM GOODKl,!,. 
 
 23 
 
 others. His affectionate interest and sympathy flowed 
 out in every direction. His letters to the Society of 
 Inquiry at Andover, “ to the children of America/’ to 
 his “ dear Cherokee daughters,” to his “ dear children 
 and grandchildren in Constantinople, Harpoot, and 
 America,” and his farewell letter to the evangelical 
 churches of Turkey, breathe the apostolic spirit. 
 
 To follow him through the details of his missionary 
 life and experiences would be to give a history of the 
 mission in Constantinople for a generation. It would 
 show how with a constitution always feeble, by his in¬ 
 dustry, promptness, and method he accomplished a vast 
 amount of labor; by his unselfish disinterestedness he 
 gained and wielded great influence; by his peace-lov¬ 
 ing spirit he ever advocated and maintained friendly 
 relations, and commanded universal love and respect; 
 by his modest sagacity he helped solve many a perplex¬ 
 ity; by his cheerful courage he passed happily through 
 what he well called a “ stormy life;” by his simple, fer¬ 
 vent piety he helped many souls towards heaven; by 
 his untiring industry he preached the gospel in six dif¬ 
 ferent languages; and by his conscientiousness and 
 unwearied scholarship he achieved “ a work that fairly 
 places his name beside that of Wicklif and Tyndale.” 
 All this he did amid constant hindrances and interrup¬ 
 tions, among which may be mentioned the fact that he 
 speaks of having been obliged to change his residence 
 “ dozens of times.” 
 
 But without dwelling on the long catalogue of trials 
 by sickness, fire, alarms of plague and cholera, embar- 
 
24 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 rassments of all kinds, manifold oppositions and perse¬ 
 cutions, often distressing and violent, proceeding to 
 imprisonments, and in one instance to the public execu¬ 
 tion of an Armenian convert, he lived to rejoice abun¬ 
 dantly in what he had been permitted to do and to be¬ 
 hold—“ much greater things than we had ever expected 
 in our brightest days of hope and anticipation.” In one 
 of his last letters to the Board before the termination of 
 his labors, he says (March 2, 1865), “ The work of mis¬ 
 sions appears to me more excellent and glorious as I 
 begin to feel that my connection with it is drawing to a 
 close. I bless God for the great privilege of being con¬ 
 nected with it for so long a time.” 
 
 The changes he had seen were great indeed. He 
 had arrived in Constantinople when the opinion had 
 been recently expressed that a Protestant service in any 
 language would not be tolerated, except in the palaces 
 of the foreign legations, when the Armenians were 
 wholly inaccessible, and there was not a European in 
 the city who could fully sympathize with him in his 
 work, and but “a single native found whose heart 
 seemed at all moved by the Holy Spirit.” It was with 
 the utmost difficulty he could even gain a residence in 
 Bebek, not being permitted to live in Constantinople 
 proper or any of its suburbs, except Pera. Schools and 
 religious assemblies, though held in private apartments, 
 were liable at any time to be interrupted. He was en¬ 
 veloped in an atmosphere of misrepresentation and of 
 opposition on every hand, stronger from nominal Chris¬ 
 tians than even from the Turks. It seemed a forlorn hope. 
 
WILLIAM GOODKlfl*. 
 
 25 
 
 He lived to see the Turkish Government steadily 
 changing its attitude; induced or constrained to issue a 
 formal Bill of Rights in 1839 (the Hatti Sheriff of Gul 
 Hane); to give the personal pledge of the Sultan in 
 1844 against persecution; to issue in 1847 an d I ^5o a 
 charter for the Protestant Church, in 1853 the firman 
 of protection to Protestants, and in 1856 the celebrated 
 Hatti Humayoun, declaring—however imperfect the 
 subsequent fulfilment—that “no subject of the empire 
 shall be hindered in the exercise of the religion that he 
 professes, nor shall be in any way annoyed on this ac¬ 
 count.” He lived to see schools for girls, colleges, and 
 theological seminaries flourishing in the Turkish Em¬ 
 pire, and a noble band of churches organized with all 
 the agencies of life and growth and inextinguishable 
 power. He lived to see the American mission work in 
 Turkey profoundly respected and extolled by the high¬ 
 est European authorities for its singular wisdom, catho¬ 
 licity, and efficiency, and himself beloved and honored 
 as one of its noblest representatives and patriarchs. 
 
 VISIT TO AMERICA. 
 
 Nor was he less honored and beloved in his native 
 land by thousands that never had seen his face, but 
 knew him by his charming letters and noble labors. 
 After nearly thirty years of voluntary exile, by special 
 request of the Prudential Committee of the American 
 Board, in 1851, he and Mrs. Goodell visited their native 
 land. He came, in the fulfilment of his own prayer, 
 that “ it may be both to receive and to impart a bless- 
 
26 
 
 AMERICAN HLROKS. 
 
 ing.” He reached Boston just in season to be at the 
 dying bed and to attend the funeral of his beloved 
 friend Temple. He visited his native town to look 
 upon a Sabbath congregation where he could not rec¬ 
 ognize one countenance, and to search in vain for the 
 grave of his “ gentle mother.” He then visited his rela¬ 
 tives scattered over the country, who in every instance 
 failed to recognize him till he made himself known, 
 often in his own humorous way. But they were joyful 
 meetings. 
 
 After thus gratifying the yearnings of his warm fam¬ 
 ily affection, he gave himself for two years almost in¬ 
 cessantly to travelling the country in aid of the cause 
 of missions. During this period he “travelled about 
 twenty-five thousand miles, addressed more than four 
 hundred congregations, speaking on an average about 
 an hour each time,” besides meeting “ students of col¬ 
 leges and theological seminaries, Sabbath and select 
 schools, all over the country.” It refreshed him. “ In¬ 
 stead of being worn down, I feel all the fresher and the 
 better for it.” While thus doing good, he was also 
 getting good. Everywhere he was welcomed, and he 
 enjoyed everything. It was a perpetual delight. “We 
 have loved to look upon the greenness, the freshness, 
 and the verdure of your meadows, so different from the 
 East, and to think what a good land it is which the 
 Lord God of your fathers has given unto you. We 
 have loved to look upon your godly-minded farms, as 
 they might almost be called, that is, farms cultivated 
 with honesty, industry, and economy, and in many 
 
WIIylylAM GOOD^Iyly. 
 
 27 
 
 cases ‘sanctified by the Word of God and prayer.’ 
 And after having for so many years seen scarcely a face 
 which was not distorted more or less by arrogance or 
 cringing servility, by intolerance, bigotry, selfishness, 
 or unjust suffering, we have gazed with delight on the 
 tens of thousands of happy countenances in this happy 
 land which are lighted up with such bright expres¬ 
 sions of kindness, benevolence, and Christian hope. . . . 
 These pleasant fields and beautiful gardens, with all 
 their fragrant flowers, and the cattle upon a thousand 
 hills, we have enjoyed them all. In all our travels 
 through this good land we have met with the most 
 hearty welcome and have had the best of accommoda¬ 
 tions. We have had no taxes to pay and no trouble 
 with domestics, nor have we been burdened with any 
 care or responsibility; and yet, during all our sojourn 
 here, we have been like the possessor of a great estate, 
 having ‘servants and maidens, and men-singers and 
 women-singers, musical instruments, and that of all 
 sorts,’ for our special entertainment. The Bible prom¬ 
 ises a hundred-fold to those who suffer any loss for the 
 truth’s sake; but this good Bible always does better 
 than it promises; and we here publicly acknowledge, 
 for the encouragement of all others, that we ourselves, 
 however unworthy to suffer or to speak of suffering, 
 have already received ten times nearer a thousand-fold 
 than a hundred.” 
 
28 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 HIS LAST TWELVE YEARS. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. Goodell returned in 1853 t° the field 
 of their life-work in Constantinople,-where he continued 
 with increasing influence and honor till his advancing 
 years and failing strength admonished him that his 
 work was nearly done. He then gathered up forty- 
 eight of his sermons and published them in the Turk¬ 
 ish language, with a farewell letter to the Protestant 
 churches, and in 1865 requested of the Board a release. 
 “ It is,” said he, “ a sad conclusion to which we have 
 come, but after much thought and consultation we are 
 unable to come to any other. When we left America 
 the first time, in 1822, I do not recollect that either of 
 us shed a tear. When we sailed the second time, in 
 1853, and left five children standing on the wharf in 
 Boston, not one of whom had yet found a home, we sat 
 down and wept. But at the very thought of leaving 
 our work in Constantinople, together with our beloved 
 associates and all the dear objects of our prayers and 
 labors in the East, our head seems ready at once to be¬ 
 come waters and our eyes a fountain of tears. Of all 
 our separations this seems the hardest to bear.” 
 
 The parting was almost equally sad to a large circle 
 of friends, English and American, by whom he was 
 tenderly beloved. They held a public meeting to pre¬ 
 pare an address and make him a present. Various fam¬ 
 ilies and individuals, including a company of the mis¬ 
 sionary children, sent him testimonials of their affection. 
 The United States Ambassador, Hon. E. J. Morris, 
 
W3XUAM GOODEkb. 
 
 29 
 
 wrote him a letter of regret, in which he said, “ In my 
 intercourse with men I have never met with one who, 
 in his actions, speech, and manner of life, more truly 
 represented the excellences of the Christian character.” 
 He spent several days in visiting from house to house, 
 conversing, singing, and praying with the families. A 
 hundred of the people came the evening before his de¬ 
 parture to sing a farewell hymn, and “ among the crowd 
 that followed him weeping to the wharf were some who 
 had stoned and spat upon him in the days of the perse¬ 
 cution.” His heart lingered behind as he left for ever 
 the scene of his labors. “As we swept around Seraglio 
 Point, and I caught the last glimpse of Constantinople 
 and its magnificent surroundings, I kept saying in my 
 heart, ‘ Farewell, thou beautiful city. May thy moral 
 beauties soon equal all thy natural. I should love to 
 preach the gospel to thy people once more.’ ” 
 
 The remainder is soon told. But about eighteen 
 months were left. He preached and delivered various 
 addresses, and gave accounts of the work in the East. 
 He addressed the students of Auburn Theological Sem¬ 
 inary and conversed with individuals who looked to 
 the missionary work. He spoke at South Hadley Sem¬ 
 inary, and finally made his home with his son in Phila¬ 
 delphia, where he took charge of a Bible-class of busi¬ 
 ness men and entered into all the Christian activities of 
 the church. 
 
 The most striking of all his appearances in public 
 was when, in October, 1865, he attended the meeting of 
 the American Bo^:d in Chicago. No one will ever for- 
 
3° 
 
 AMERICAN HEROES. 
 
 get him who saw him there, with his flowing white 
 beard and the velvet cap wrought with Arabic sentences 
 by the schoolgirls of Aleppo, or who felt the hush when 
 he rose and with feeble voice addressed the great as¬ 
 sembly thus: “ When I went from my native country in 
 1822, it was to go to Jerusalem; that was my destina¬ 
 tion. There I expected to live and labor and to die 
 and be buried, arising again at the resurrection of the 
 just. I have never been there. I have now set my 
 face towards the New Jerusalem, taking Chicago on my 
 way.” 
 
 He was not far from his second goal. For a little 
 more than a year he continued the labors that have 
 been indicated, including a five months’ tour, in which 
 he preached every Sabbath but one, and made public 
 addresses nearly every day, spoke to the students of 
 Amherst College, attended the Andover anniversaries 
 and one more meeting of the American Board, at Pitts¬ 
 field. It was so ordered in the good providence of 
 God that on his return his final and delighted occupa¬ 
 tion was, in compliance with his children’s earnest re¬ 
 quest, to write out the precious reminiscences of his 
 early life ; and the very latest thing he wrote was the 
 letter telling “ how he found a wife.” One full day 
 more was given, the Sabbath day, on which he attended 
 church, conducted his Bible-class, came home “so 
 happy,” in his evening prayer mentioned all his chil¬ 
 dren by name, asked God’s blessing on all “ Eastern 
 and Western ” friends, and retired in apparent health. 
 
 At midnight he awoke in great distress, which con- 
 
"WT 1,1,1 AM GOODEhh. 
 
 31 
 
 tinued unabated; and though he said he had never been 
 so ill before, he also said later in the day that this, 
 which was his birthday, had been “ one continued 
 psalm of thanksgiving.” Towards evening he was re¬ 
 lieved of pain, slept a little, awoke with the words, “ I 
 am so tired,” and in a few minutes more had gone up 
 to the New Jerusalem. A blessed life and a blessed 
 death. May his mantle rest on many a young Elisha! 
 

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