yon horrid shrine;
Madness pictured in their faces,
Emblems of the frantic mind;
They have never heard of Jesus,
Never to th' Eternal prayed;
Paths of death and woe they're treading,
Christian! Christian! come and aid!

By that rending shriek of horror
Issuing from the flaming pile,
By the bursts of mirth that follow,
By that Brahmin's fiend-like smile
By the infant's piercing cry,
Drowned in Ganges' rolling wave;
By the mother's tearful eye,
Friends of Jesus, come and save!

By that pilgrim, weak and hoary,
Wandering far from friends and home
Vainly seeking endless glory
At the false Mahomet's tomb;
By that blind, derided nation,
Murderers of the Son of God,
Christians, grant us our petition,
Ere we lie beneath the sod!

By the Afric's hopes so wretched,
Which at death's approach shall fly
By the scalding tears that trickle
From the slave's wild sunken eye
By the terrors of that judgment,
Which shall fix our final doom;
Listen to our cry so earnest;--
Friends of Jesus, come, oh, come

By the martyrs' toils and sufferings,
By their patience, zeal, and love;
By the promise of the Mighty,
Bending from His throne above;
By the last command so precious,
Issued by the risen God;
Christians! Christians! come and help us,
Ere we lie beneath the sod!"

Sarah, from her earliest years took great delight in reading. At four
years, says her brother, she could read readily in any common book. Her
rank in her classes in school was always high, and her teachers felt a
pleasure in instructing her. On one occasion, when about thirteen, she
was compelled to signify to the principal of a female seminary, that her
circumstances would no longer permit her to enjoy its advantages. The
teacher, unwilling to lose a pupil who was an honor to the school, and
who so highly appreciated its privileges, remonstrated with her upon her
intention, and finally prevailed on her to remain. Soon after she
commenced instructing a class of small children, and was thus enabled to
keep her situation in the seminary, without sacrificing her feelings of
independence.

Her earliest journals, fragmentary as they are, disclose a zeal and
ardor in self-improvement exceedingly unusual. "My mother cannot spare
me to attend school this winter, but I have begun