taken this passage for her daily resting-place,—"Be careful for nothing." Of nothing that pertained to herself—ease, strength, or health—was she careful. The cause of the poor, and those spiritually perishing, she made her own. She gathered, and chiefly maintained, two or more series of weekly prayer-meetings, and a mother's meeting; she taught a Bible-class in the mission Sabbath school; and that school, by their tearful presence, now attest the deep regard which they entertain for her.

A sewing school, during the colder season, was one favorite method of usefulness. The first intimation of her coming in was the signal of a general brightening of faces, and her smiles, bestowed upon all, gave fullest satisfaction. While

interested in providing employment for each scholar during the session, her chief thought seemed to be, "How can I benefit these immortal souls?" To the utmost would she strive to win their attention to God's Word, to a hymn, or valuable story. Though coming to the school, often weary with labors elsewhere, she would still listen with great patience to the many questions asked, and would bear up cheerfully under the multiplied cares of the hour.

But her chief vocation was to visit from house to house. Go out with her into the region assigned. It is no fancy sketch that I draw. Those who have accompanied Mrs. Marsh supply the materials, if not the colors. In her walks through by-ways, after her character had become manifest, words of greeting would everywhere meet her from the little child and from older persons. The young were drawn to her, and for all she had a kind word and a wise word. In the sick-room her presence acted like a charm; the languid eye would brighten, and the name of Jesus was sure to be whispered in the ear. It was as easy for her to pray to our heavenly Father as to speak to any friend; her prayers were earnest, simple, confiding, and appropriate to the occasion and the person.

Her peculiar field presents phases quite varied, and which quite decisively test character. The concurrent testimony of those who have been associated with Mrs. Marsh more or less intimately, and have seen her in the different departments of Christian work, is that they cannot name a fault in her; that they have been deeply impressed with her singular fitness for such service; that they have found her always calm and

collected; that she never seemed surprised at any scene of destitution, or any amount of complaint poured into her patient ear; that she showed herself forbearing and sympathizing, yet watchful and decided; and that, if occasion required,—as occasion sometimes did require,—they found she could be stern.

She understood human nature well; character seemed to lie open to her eye. Attempts at concealment or deceit were almost always futile. One had need be master of chicanery to impose upon her.

Very few here know what courage there was in that heart. Never otherwise than womanly, never weakly feminine, she exhibited, when there was need, true heroism, a masculine daring of benevolence. She never boasted,—no truly courageous person is ever boastful,—she seldom spoke of what she had done; but there are persons living who know somewhat of a history, in former years especially, that shows the highest style of undaunted, self-forgetting intrepidity.

Another characteristic of Mrs. Marsh—and far from being unimportant—was her habit of great exactness in making a written record of articles sent in for gratuitous distribution, and in keeping a detailed account, even to every two-cent purchase, from her "Poor's Purse," which was entirely separate from the mission treasury.

Her industry was remarkable. It was not fragmentary, occasional, spasmodic; but maintained month by month, year after year, in heat and cold, in rain, snow, and tempest, in weariness,