Her fears were realized.  Some lines written by “the enthusiastic Sarah” on the death of Colman, met the eye of the “young man in Maine,” who was touched and interested by the spirit which breathes in them, and did not rest till he had formed an acquaintance with their author.  This acquaintance was followed by an engagement; and in about two years Sarah’s ardent aspirations were gratified—­she was a missionary to the heathen.

But we are anticipating events; and will close this chapter with extracts from the “Lines on the death of Colman,” of which we have spoken.

“’Tis the voice of deep sorrow from India’s shore
The flower of our churches is withered, is dead,
The gem that shone brightly will sparkle no more,
And the tears of the Christian profusely are shed
Two youths of Columbia, with hearts glowing warm
Embarked on the billows far distant to rove,
To bear to the nations all wrapp’d in thick gloom,
The lamp of the gospel—­the message of love. 
But Wheelock now slumbers beneath the cold wave,
And Colman lies low in the dark cheerless grave. 
Mourn, daughters of India, mourn! 
The rays of that star, clear and bright,
That so sweetly on Arracan shone
Are shrouded in black clouds of night,
For Colman is gone!

* * * * *

Oh Colman! thy father weeps not o’er thy grave;
Thy heart riven mother ne’er sighs o’er thy dust;
But the long Indian grass o’er thy far tomb shall wave,
And the drops of the evening descend on the just. 
Cold, silent and dark is thy narrow abode—­
But not long wilt thou sleep in that dwelling of gloom,
For soon shall be heard the great trump of our God
To summon all nations to hear their last doom;
A garland of amaranth then shall be thine,
And thy name on the martyrs’ bright register shine. 
O what glory will burst on thy view
When are placed by the Judge of the earth,
The flowers that in India grew
By thy care, in the never-pale wreath
Encircling thy brow!

CHAPTER III.

ACCOUNT OF GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN.

We need offer no apology for turning aside from the immediate subject of our narrative, in order to introduce to our readers one, who must henceforth share with her our sympathy and our affection; we mean George Dana Boardman—­the successor to Colman spoken of in the last chapter.

He was the son of a Baptist clergyman in Livermore, Maine, and was born in 1801.  Though feeble in body, he had an ardent thirst for knowledge, which often made him conceal illness for fear of being detained from school.  At a suitable age, he was sent to an academy in North Yarmouth, where he became distinguished for ardor in the pursuit of learning, and fine mental powers.  It is related, that he went through the Latin grammar with surprising rapidity, and then expected to be allowed to use the Lexicon, but was told he