w regular attendants at our church."

The veteran missionary pays a noble tribute to the wives of the
missionaries at the several stations of the central mission: "I felt
myself rebuked when I saw the earnest, self-devoted spirit of my
missionary sisters, who are laboring in Aintab, in Marash, in
Antioch, in Aleppo, and in Oorfa, for the salvation of their
degraded sex; thinking little of the sacrifices they have made in
leaving America, to live in such a country as Turkey. It would be
difficult to find in Christendom a more happy class than these, our
helpers in Christ Jesus. The holy object which fills their hearts
lifts them above the distracting and embittering influences of
external circumstances."

The change at Diarbekir, during the score of years since Dr. Grant
and Mr. Homes barely escaped with their lives, had been truly
wonderful. Drs. Dwight and Schneider and Mr. Nutting, on their
approach from Oorfa, were met, eighteen miles out, by a deputation
of Protestant brethren on horseback; and, a few miles further on, by
another detachment, headed by Mr. Walker and the native pastor; and
when near the city, by a third on foot, thus giving them a sort of
triumphal entry. Nor, during their whole stay, was there anything to
awaken a feeling of insecurity, but convincing evidence, that
Protestantism had a strong hold on many minds.

Dr. Dwight noticed a decline of the Turkish population in the region
of the Euphrates. Several entire quarters in Diarbekir, formerly
Turkish, had passed into Christian hands, and the process was going
on. Armenians, Jacobites, and Protestants were buying Turkish
houses, but seldom did a Turk buy one of theirs; and around the
outskirts of the city there were extensive Turkish quarters all in
ruins.

Mrs. Dunmore had come to the United States in 1856, in consequence
of the failure of her health, and was never able to return. Her
husband continued his self-denying labors four years longer, until,
seeing no prospect of her recovery, he believed his duty required
him to follow her. It was then a time of civil war in his native
land, and his public spirit led him to accept an invitation from a
regiment of cavalry to be their chaplain. A detachment, with which
he was connected, was surprised early in the morning of August 3,
1861, and he fell, shot in the head before he was fairly out of his
tent.[1]

[1] See _Missionary Herald_, 1862, p. 321.

In courage, enterprise, tact, and efficacy,