called some years later to Constantinople to be punished for having spoken disrespectfully of Queen Victoria.  These little princesses were regular attendants at the school, and learned to read in the New Testament, and studied Watts’ Catechism with the rest of the Christian children.  I had also charge of a Bible class for women, who used to meet once a week in the Protestant Church.  This was before the massacre of 1860.  The rest of my life has been spent in teaching in Beirut.  Since the massacres, I have been teaching the orphans in the Prussian School, where I at present reside.  Indeed it has been my home ever since I undertook this work which I love dearly, and which I hope to continue so long as the Lord sees fit, and gives me strength to work for Him.”

I am permitted to make the following extract from a letter written by Melita to Mrs. Whiting, in February, 1868.  I give the exact language, as the letter is written in English: 

                                         Prussian Institution, Beirut,
          
                                        February 23, 1868.

My Dear Mrs. Whiting—­

It is so cold this morning that I can with difficulty hold my pen.  It has been a very cold and stormy month, and there seems no prospect of fair weather yet.  The snow on the mountains is as low as the lowest hills, and I pity the poor creatures who must be suffering in consequence.  J. enjoys the weather very much; indeed he seems so exhilarated and invigorated by it that one could almost wish it to last on his account, but I must say that I wish it was over, and the warm sunbeams shedding their genial rays again upon the cold frozen earth.

Trouble and grief are such a common complaint at present that you will not be surprised to hear me relate my share of them.  I have indeed had my full share, and you would say so too had you seen how I was occupied during my holidays last summer, in taking care of my ill and suffering brother.  And aside from my fatigue, for I was always on my feet until two or three hours after midnight, quite alone with him—­merely to witness such indescribable suffering as he went through, was more than is generally allotted to human beings on earth.  He had been unwell for some time previous, and had been advised by the Doctor to go up to the mountains, so Mr. Calhoun kindly offered him a place in the Seminary, where he could stop until his health was recruited, and in the meantime give a couple of English lessons during the day to the boys in the Seminary.  He lodged with the Theological students in a little room above the school, but he had not been up there more than a week, when his whole body became suddenly covered with a burning eruption that was always spreading and increasing in size.  He could neither lie nor sit in any possible position, and was racked with pains that seemed at times well nigh driving him mad.  I trembled for his