The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1895-11-22

To the Editor OF the Press:
The readers of the PRESS who have
followed the fortunes of the three heroic
missionaries, SO well known to Portland
people, who left America for the Soudan
last January, will be interested, vet
Nsaddened to learn that the last of the
number, the beloved and gifted Edna
j. Luscomb, has entered into rest. She
PASSED away October 16 after great suffer-
ing. For several months the conviction
had been growing on her that only a
return to her land would save her life.
For although not what they term in
Africa ga good fever patient" she yet
was subject to frequent attacks of ma
laria, about every three weeks, which left
her almost PROSTATE, and unable to en-
dure the least exertion without relapse.
At last quite sure she could not endure
the climate, she, with two faithful
missionaries at Makom, Mr.. and Mrs.
Shoobridge, started toward the coast.
At the end of the second days journey
they stopped at Robethel, the nearest
station toward the coast where Mrs.
Luscomb was taken ill with blaokwater
fever.
From the first she felt her end was
near, saying, perhaps the Lord would
have her buried at Robethel She told
the friends her last wishes and made
every prepar alton for departure, though
her attendants were not at all sure her
case was hopeless, as her fever soon
abated and the hemorhages ceased.
On the fifth day she appeared to be dy-
ing and seemed to catch glimpses of the
Beyond Land.
sob, I hear the sweetest music" she
exclaimed, and again, "Oh, how lovely.
Bye and bye, she said, referring Ito her
departed husband, ~ see Ben with the
same sweet look, and Philip, little son
she had buried years ago)looking through
the gates.
Mrs. S. E. Graham Clark
Once exclaimed, "Only mar
row sea remains, Jesus will
goBwith me-. Yea, though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil.''
Afterward, when she seemed to revive
for time, she said, Is it possible l am
|scoming back again?' But it was not
for long. She had no strength to rally.
She had pleasant words and thanks to
God for all about her. So gratefully,
gently like herself she passed onward,
and Africa holds another consecrated
grave, and America another orphan.
What awful waste of life! are you
tempted to exclaim, readers? Oh, say
it not. Measured even by the balances
of time, would dare assert that those
six months of patient waiting and suffer-
ing and prayer were lost? and who can
measure any act by the balances of
eternity? Surely no love, no sacrifice is
wasted, nothing ever thrown away that
is unreservely yielded to God. 'sHe that
loseth his life for my sake shall fnd
it." But surely if the preciousness of
seed sown enhances the value of the soil
that holds it, Africa is one of the richest
lands of earth, since in her bosom cradles
such heroes and heroines the stories of
whose lives will make Heavens inhab-
itants wonder some day when they are
told in their fullnoss and their fruitful
ness. Remember in your prayers, o
Christian, the orphaned boy of this
crowned saint and the one solitary
white woman left to labor with the
missionaries in that dark reign-Mrs. w.
E. Shoobridge.