V.
SARAH L. SMITH, OF SYRIA.
There are some spots on earth more hallowed than others. There are consecrated cities and towns, from which, as we approach them, we seem to hear a voice, saying, "Put off thy shoes; for the spot whereon thou treadest is holy ground."
Such are the places in which Christ our Savior lived, and preached, and suffered while incarnate. Such are the places where his immediate successors, the apostles and martyrs, contended so earnestly for the faith delivered to the saints. Jerusalem, Bethany, Bethlehem, Corinth, Ephesus, Antioch, and Rome will be associated forever, in the minds of Christians, with the early progress and triumphs of our holy religion; and the pious traveller will never visit those places without feeling his bosom thrill with tender and intense emotions.
On this account the mission in Syria is one of peculiar interest. Founded almost within sight of Calvary, it is surrounded with many scenes of dear and hallowed interest; and it requires but little effort of the imagination to recall the song of the infant church, as it arose from vale and glen, vibrating on the air and echoing back from hoary Lebanon. It was with the mission in this place that the amiable, talented, and beloved subject of this article was connected.
Sarah Lanman Huntington was the daughter of Jabez Huntington, Esq. She was born in Norwich, Connecticut, on the 18th of June, 1802, and in that beautiful town passed through the period of childhood. She was educated with missionary sympathies and feelings. All the circumstances under which she was placed were calculated to invest the holy enterprise with sacred pleasantness. In her father's house she never heard a word of reproach breathed forth against the cause itself or the devoted men and women engaged in it. She traced her descent from the famous John Robinson, of Leyden, whose blood came flowing down through a long missionary line until it coursed in her veins. Her grandfather was a member of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions; and all her relatives on the side of father and mother were active promoters of the work of God.
Under such influences Sarah grew up, believing that it was far more honorable to do good to man, to be the means of reclaiming the wanderer from the path of duty, or to bring a sinner back to God, than to found an empire, or establish a throne, or conquer an army of steel-clad warriors, or lead in triumph captive kings and princes. Before her conversion, she was aware of the divine character of the work which had just commenced; and doubtless her young heart responded to the appeals made by the death of Harriet Newell and the life of Ann H. Judson.
During the first twelve years of her life there appears to be nothing unusual in her history. She was like other thoughtful and pleasant girls of her age, and spent her time in the amusements and pursuits of youth. At school she was industrious, studious, but not remarkably rapid in her progress; at home she was fondly loved and cherished; but in the minds of her parents she never appeared to be a prodigy or a genius.
At the age of twelve she became the subject of the Spirit's influence. Her mind was drawn to divine things and her heart touched by the finger of God. On the 10th of August, 1820, she realized for the first time the blessedness of full and free forgiveness. The Savior was precious to her soul, and holy duties were pleasant and delightful. She had passed from the deep waters of conviction, and gladly placed her feet on the Rock of Ages, where she stood immovable. Her joy knew no bounds. Liberated from sin, free from the dreadful weight of guilt and condemnation, pardoned by God and loved by Christ, she deemed no praises too exalted, no trials too severe to endure in return. She immediately recognized the great principle that "we are not our own," and acted upon it; and life became from that hour devoted to holy employments and useful pursuits.
Writing to one of her friends about this time, she says, "All is changed. I am in a new world of thought and feeling. I begin to live anew. Even our beautiful Norwich has new charms, and, in sympathy with my joyousness, wears a new, a lovelier, aspect."
The vows which she made, as she passed through the "strait gate" and entered the kingdom of heaven, did not consist of words alone. They were engraven on her heart and carried out in her life as well as recorded on high. Ceaselessly she sought out ways in which she might do good to the bodies and the souls of her fellow-creatures; and what her hands found to do, she did with her might. In 1827 she formed a plan to benefit the Mohegan Indians, who lived a few miles from Norwich. These Indians were the remnant of a once mighty tribe; and the proud blood of some of their rude chieftains of former times coursed through the veins of these tattered and ragged descendants. From hut to hut she visited among these degraded children of the forest; started a Sabbath school, of which she and another young lady were the sole teachers; provided books for those who could read; and in many ways conferred benefits upon them. Not satisfied with this, she determined to build a church and secure the services of a missionary; and for this purpose wrote to several of her influential friends, to secure their coöperation and sympathy. For aid in her work of benevolence she also applied to the legislature of Connecticut and to the general government. To a considerable extent she was successful, and obtained the esteem and gratitude of that forlorn and oppressed people.
The manner in which she visited among the people gives us an insight into the character of the woman, and furnishes us with a clew to her future success. She usually rode from Norwich on horseback, and, taking a little girl with her into the saddle, passed from house to house, using the child as guide, interpreter, and adviser. When she met in the road a few ragged natives or a knot of men and women she would stop her horse and converse a while with them, and slip a tract into the hand of each, and with a smile pass on. In this way she gained the confidence and love of the poor people who lived in ignorance and degradation within sight of the towers and temples of New England towns and cities.
At times the mind of Miss H. was much exercised in relation to a mission in the western part of our own country. The gathering thousands who were pouring in from every quarter of the world, the future influence of the west upon the nation, the wide field of usefulness there presented, were all inducements for her to go forth and labor amid the mountains and on the broad prairies which extend towards the shores of the Pacific Ocean.
The idea of laboring in the west was abandoned in 1833, during which year she resolved to accompany Rev. Eli Smith to his field of toil in Syria. The opportunity presented by the offer of Mr. Smith was what Miss H. most earnestly desired. Her heart was set on doing good; and no spot on earth could have been selected more in accordance with her tastes and feelings. The long-cherished purpose could now be accomplished; and, after due consultation with her friends, she was married on the 21st of July, in the midst of her associates, at Norwich.
On the 29th of August the parting between child and parents took place, and Mrs. Smith left the home of her infancy forever, and, after visiting the friends of her husband in Boston, embarked from that place for Malta, on the 21st of September, in the brig George, commanded by Captain Hallet.
The scene on board the vessel was peculiarly solemn. After the missionaries had arrived and the people had assembled on the deck and on the wharf, all united in singing that grand hymn,—
"Roll on, thou mighty ocean;
And, as thy billows flow,
Bear messengers of mercy
To every land below."
Rev. Dr. Jenks then led in prayer, commending the servants of God to the gracious care of Him who sitteth on high; after which the brig was loosened from her moorings and floated down the harbor, while the little cluster of missionaries on board sung sweetly the beautiful hymn of Heber,—
"From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand."
The sorrowful friends remained standing upon the wharf until the vessel which contained the loved ones had faded from sight, and with its precious freight was far out upon the deceptive ocean.
After a fine voyage of fifty-four days the missionaries landed at Malta, and proceeded to Beyroot, via Alexandria. They arrived at Beyroot on the 28th of January, 1834. The sketch of their voyage, given by Mrs. Smith herself and found in her published memoir, is of intense interest. The objects of interest were so numerous, the mind of the voyager so well prepared to appreciate them, that a journey on land could scarcely have been more delightful. The heaving Atlantic; the calm, bright Mediterranean; the Azore Islands; the long coast of Africa; the Straits of Gibraltar; the stay at Malta; the visits to convents, temples, and other places of resort; the city of Alexandria; the Mahometan Sabbath; the grave of Parsons; the passage to Beyroot, and the safe arrival,—were all calculated to enlist the feelings of such a woman, with such a mind, as Mrs. Smith, She arrived at her new residence at Beyroot on the 28th of January, 1834. The town lies at the foot of the "goodly mountain," Lebanon, and, to the approaching traveller, presents a scene of beauty seldom equalled. Descending gently from the south, the whole town seems like one vast garden, with houses half covered by the thick foliage, and cottages of Oriental style, of brown or yellow appearance, peeping through the overhanging trees, or standing in the centre of a well-cultivated spot, like a temple in the heart of a city. Away beyond is Lebanon, stretching its sunny ridges from north to south, and lifting its peaks until they bathe their foreheads in the clouds. On its sides are seen the cottage, and here and there a cluster of human habitations, forming little villages, which delight the eye and give beauty to the prospect. Every thing, to a native of Europe or America, is unique and strange, and has an air of richness and productiveness which surprises while it charms. The birds, the beasts, the insects are, to a lover of natural beauty, sources of study and profit; and the refined mind could scarcely find a more delightful spot as a field of missionary exertion.
The inhabitants did not correspond with the outward scenery. Though the people kindly welcomed them, the missionaries found a wide difference in the habits and customs of the European and the Arab; and brought into connection with the latter, as they were every hour of the day, the contrast was continually before the mind.
Besides this, the missionary cannot live on the same equality with the people as can other classes of European or American residents. The trader can close his doors and have his family circles sacred from the intrusion of officious, meddlesome natives; but this course would defeat the very object which the missionary has in view. It would shut him out from the confidence and sympathy of those whose hearts he wished to reach. It would place between him and the heathen a barrier which would be insurmountable. So our sister found it at Beyroot. She had no house which she could properly call her own; for at times, while she was least prepared and while visits were least desirable, her house would be invaded by a company of five or six women, who would remain a long time, asking questions and prying into a hundred things which did not concern them.
And yet Mrs. Smith felt that these annoyances must be endured with cheerfulness; and when patience was almost wearied out, and time which belonged to herself and her family was taken up by such persons, she would console herself that such privations and trials were parts of the missionary work, which must be endured cheerfully for the sake of Jesus.
The manners, customs, and dresses of the people at Beyroot served to remind the Christian of the times of Christ, and led back the imagination through the lapse of eighteen hundred years to the thrilling events which transpired throughout the Holy Land.
So few are the improvements made in art and agriculture that one can easily fancy himself in the middle of the first century, gazing upon the people who from apostolic lips listened to the words of life and salvation; and under this almost irresistible impression the solemnity of Gethsemane and Calvary gathers over the soul, and throws a divine enchantment over the life and labors of the men of God. So our sister felt, as the Oriental costumes passed before her, as she looked out from her window upon the sides of the snow-covered Lebanon.
The situation of Mrs. Smith was not at all like that of many other devoted servants of God. She was not compelled to break up the fallow ground, or be the first to drop the Seed into the soil. Others had preceded her—they had prepared the way—they had erected the kindly shelter—they had opened the heathen mind to receive light and truth. Hence, on her arrival, she found all the comforts and conveniences of a civilized community—she found a most beautiful and romantic residence, a land teeming with all the hallowed associations of sacred history.
Called by God, not to the dungeons of Ava, not to the damp and monster-covered banks of the Irrawaddy, but to a more congenial field of labor, she toiled on in it with pleasure.
Mrs. Smith spent most of the time in her school, which was commenced soon after her arrival, and for a while was "the only schoolmistress in all Syria." The school house, which was erected upon a plan of her own, was filled by a large number of children of Egyptian, Arabian, and Turkish parents, who, under the care of their faithful teacher, made considerable progress. To instruct the little, ignorant children, explain to them the mysteries of science, and lead them upward to the God who made them, was a task for which she was well adapted. Being an ardent lover of the beautiful and grand in nature, she made the green fields, the blooming vineyards, the high, towering mountain all subservient to the purposes of instruction. Her residence among the Mohegans prepared her for her duties in Syria, and gave her the advantage of an experience which she could have acquired nowhere else. In the Sabbath school she was also most happily employed in instructing the fifteen or twenty children who attended in the path of holiness. Under her labors the school gradually and constantly increased, and a visible change for good was observed among the pupils. Her kindness and affection won the hearts even of the Moslem parents, who, in repeated instances, disobeyed the direction of their priests, and kept their children under her care after the school had been condemned.
One of the most pleasant circumstances connected with the missionary life of Mrs. Smith was her visit to the Holy Land in 1835. From early childhood she had regarded with a feeling of veneration the city of Jerusalem. That was the city in which many of the Savior's miracles were done; there he had healed the sick, cast out devils, raised the dead, and performed many other wonderful works; there was the temple; there the scene of trial, and the streets along which the cross was borne; there, near at hand, was the Garden of Gethsemane, the Mount of Olives, and on the other side of the city the Hill of Calvary on which the Savior was crucified. When, therefore, she found herself on her journey to the most noted spot in the wide world, emotions of solemn and pleasing interest crowded upon her mind. As she passed along, one object of interest after another presented itself. Tyre and Sidon were seen; and the spot whereon Sarepta once stood was crossed. Her feet traversed the mountains of Galilee, and stood upon the summit of Carmel, Gerizim, Tabor, Hermon, Lebanon, Olivet, and Calvary. She visited the spots where tradition tells us the Savior perished and where his sufferings were endured; and doubtless her imagination brought back the scenes of the past, and she might have heard the low, silvery tones of mercy and grace as they flowed from the lips of "Him who spake as never man spake."
After visiting the prominent places of the Holy Land, our missionary returned again to her station at Beyroot, where she labored with untiring diligence until June, 1836, when, her health failing, she set sail with her husband for Smyrna, with the delusive hope of regaining it. At this point her sufferings commenced. The vessel in which they sailed was old and uncomfortable; the crew and some of the passengers were any thing but agreeable; and horrid profanity was heard instead of prayer and praise. The fifth night after leaving Beyroot the vessel was wrecked on the north side of the Island of Cyprus, and the voyagers escaped with their lives. After many hardships and much danger they landed on a sandy shore in an almost destitute condition, and, after continuing on the island some days, obtained passage towards the place of their destination. The vessel on board which they sailed was a Turkish lumberman, and in no way adapted to the conveyance of passengers. But, submitting to stern necessity, they made the best improvement of the circumstances under which they were placed. Of the voyage Mr. Smith says, "The wind was high, and, being contrary to the current, raised a cross and troublous sea. The vessel was terribly tossed, and, being slightly put together, threatened to founder at almost every plunge. Mrs. Smith, besides rolling to and fro for want of something to support her against the motion, was writhing under violent seasickness, which, instead of allaying, served only to increase her cough. She had some fears that she should not survive the night; and for a time I did not know what would be the end of her sufferings."
They arrived at Smyrna in thirty-three days after they left Beyroot. Here her strength gradually failed. The consumption which was wasting her body and drawing her down to the grave made visible advances; and on the 30th of September, 1836, she died in the triumphs of faith, at Boojah, a quiet little village about five miles from Smyrna.
In her sickness she gave the most cheering illustrations of the power of the Christian faith to subdue fear and disarm death. Her mind was lifted up above the sufferings of her lot, and she held constant intercourse with the Savior of her soul. To a great extent she was free from pain, and enabled to converse with her husband upon the prospect before her. She waited for death with pleasure, and was ready at any hour to depart and be with Jesus. To die was gain, unspeakable gain; and she knew it well. Hence, when her physician and friends would whisper words of hope, she would plainly tell them that her work was done, her mission fulfilled, and the sand of her glass almost run out. It gave her more pleasure to look forward to a meeting with the loved men and women who had departed than to contemplate an existence on the earth, where storms will disturb the fairest prospect, and clouds will shut out the rays of the noonday sun.
On the Sabbath before her death she sung, in company with her husband, the hymn,—
"Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love;
But there's a nobler rest above;
To that our longing souls aspire
With cheerful hope and strong desire."
At twenty minutes before eight o'clock she died, with a countenance all illuminated with smiles, which, after she ceased to speak, played upon her features, and by their silent eloquence whispered to every beholder, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil."
On the following day, as the tidings spread through Smyrna that the sainted woman was at rest, the flags of the American vessels in the harbor were seen lowering to half mast, and that upon the dwelling of the consul was shrouded with the drapery of death.
On the 1st of October she was carried to the grave. The service of the English church was read beside the corpse, and in one common grief the people stood bending over it, while the beautiful hymn of Dr. Watts was sung:—
"Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb;
Take this new treasure to thy trust;
And give these sacred relics room
To slumber in the silent dust."
The tidings came echoing across the deep, and in our homes the story of death was told; and sadness filled the pious heart as the thought that another servant of God, another heroine of the church, had fallen at her post, a martyr in the cause of truth. The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions felt deeply the loss which had been sustained, and mourned for one whose piety, intellect, and labors were abundant.
Here endeth the missionary toils of two years and four months; and, uttering words of peace to the fallen, we bid farewell to her memory until death shall call us to join the blessed throng of the ransomed whose names are recorded on high.
"Who would not wish to die like those
Whom God's own Spirit deigns to bless?
To sink into that soft repose,
Then wake to perfect happiness."