No thought of flight, None of retreat, no unbecoming deed
That argued fear.
Milton.
We have elsewhere in this work spoken of the perils necessary to be encountered by Christian missionaries, and particularly those who connect themselves with stations in Africa. The history of the Methodist Episcopal mission in that quarter of the globe, presents a noble, if not a long, list of soldiers who early fell there while contending with Error. They sank upon the battle field, with their armor on and covered with glory. They fell not before the hosts of paganism; they were conquered by the climate. Most of those who have not died on the field, have been obliged to shortly flee to their native land for the restoration of health. Here and there one has withstood the adverse nature of the climate, toiled for years, and done a noble work, which has caused rejoicing in Heaven and honored the name of Christ on earth.
Few persons, whose names are connected with the history of modern missions, have displayed a more devoted, self-sacrificing spirit, or greater moral courage, than Miss Sophronia Farrington. Prior to the autumn of 1834, of six missionaries who had entered the field in Africa under the patronage of American Methodists, three[64] were in their graves, and two[65] had returned to the United States for health. Miss Farrington stood alone, and the question arose, what she should do. The officers of the Missionary Society were willing she should return home, and her friends were urging it upon her. With her co-laborers all dead or fled, she seemed herself to be left to the alternative either to flee or fall. Should she choose the former course, the mission would be wholly, and, for ought she knew, for ever, abandoned. What then should she do? Like a hero, to use her own words, she had "offered her soul upon the altar of her God, for the salvation of that long benighted continent," and with courage that shames the facer of the cannon's mouth, she resolved to remain and toil alone, beside the graves of her fallen companions till more help should come or the Divine Husbandman close the labors of the lone vine-dresser. More help arrived in a few months, and, according to the annual report of 1836, the mission, of whose history she formed at one time the connecting link, "continued to loom up in bright perspective, and promise a rich reward for all the labors and sufferings of the faithful missionaries."
THE DAUGHTER OF AARON BURR.
'Tis thine on every heart to 'grave thy praise,
A monument which Worth alone can raise.
Broome.
Theodosia, the only daughter of Aaron Burr, was a woman of superior mental accomplishments, and very strong affections. She was married to Joseph Alston, Esq., afterwards Governor of South Carolina, in 1801. She was then in her eighteenth year. That she was an excellent wife may be gathered, not merely from the story of her life, but from the testimony of her husband. Writing to her father in 1813—soon after her death—he says, "The man who has been deemed worthy of the heart of Theodosia Burr, and has felt what it was to be blest with such a woman's, will never forget his elevation."[66]
In regard to her attachment to her father, a writer, quoted in the appendix to Safford's Life of Blennerhassett, remarks as follows: "Her love for her father partook of the purity of a better world; holy, deep, unchanging; it reminds us of the affection which a celestial spirit might be supposed to entertain for a parent cast down from heaven, for sharing in the sin of the 'Son of the Morning.' No sooner did she hear of the arrest of her father, than she fled to his side.[67] There is nothing in human history more touching than the hurried letters, blotted with tears, in which she announced her daily progress to Richmond; for she was too weak to travel with the rapidity of the mail."
Had her health permitted, and occasion presented itself, she would have matched in heroism any act in the life of Margaret Roper or Elizabeth Cazotte.[68]