BLTC Press Titles

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Esoteric Buddhism

A. P. Sinnett

The Secret Doctrine, Volume II Anthropogenesis

H. P. Blavatsky

Leaves of Grass

Walt Whitman

The Pictorial Key to the Tarot

Arthur Edward Waite

In the land of Ararat

by John Otis Barrows


It seems to us to be an inexplicable providence that demanded that her young but fruitful life be laid upon the altar of God so near the close of a series of events full of peril to all. It is a providence we do not need to try to understand, but one that puts new emphasis upon the story of this brave and consecrated life, so admirably presented in this little volume prepared by the devoted father. The story of this life is not only a demonstration of the faith and courage and triumph of one who gave herself without reserve to her Lord, but it carries with it an inspiration to others who would make their lives count in the hard places of the world, revealing the opportunities for service so little grasped by those who live in the comfort and enjoy the privileges of a great free country like America. One can not read this volume without raising the question as to who will take up the task and earry on this work to

its inevitable triumph. In the language of the poet,

" He who, in fealty to the truth,
And counting all the cost,
Doth consecrate his generous youth—
He joins the noble host.

He who, with calm, undaunted will,

Ne'er counts the battle lost,
But, though defeated, battles still—

He joins the faithful host.

He who is ready for the cross,

The cause despised loves most,
And shuns not pain or shame or loss—

He joins the martyr host.

God's trumpet wakes the slumbering world;

Now each man to his post!
The red-cross banner is unfurled;

We join the glorious host."



IN this little volume I have attempted to gather up some of the salient features of the life of my daughter, who, in Turkish Armenia, in the summer of 1915, literally gave herself, and all that was dearest to herself, in the endeavour to save, from the wretchedness of death by starvation, Mohammedan mothers and their little children, gathered in crowds about her door. And this in the hope that others, incited by the spirit of her example, may, when necessity calls, he ready to undertake some similar work for suffering humanity, even though they must face perils as great as were hers. Such have only to remember that " God stands within the shadow, keeping watch above his own."

In this narrative I have included some things which, in recalling them, have sometimes made it necessary for me to wait till the blur should pass from my eyes. That one of our children, who had been together for so long time the light and joy of our home, must now be left in a lone, unmarked grave, in a strange and far-away land—in a grave on which no tear of affection would ever fall—this was a

While we were rejoicing that the members of the Van station had been freed from the terrors of the siege and their relentless foes, and that all, as we supposed, were safe and well, suddenly sad news came to the American Board. It was sent to us by telegraph, and repeated to our home by telephone. Its words were few, but freighted with a startling meaning. In slowly measured accents, as if the speaker at the end of the line was fearing to tell us what she knew, she at last gave her message: Mrs. Ussher had entered into rest! So sudden was the blow that it fell with well-nigh crushing weight upon us all; but especially did her older sister feel it. It seemed to her that it must not be so. The burden became so great as to deprive her of needed sleep and rest. But in regard to an experience that she then had, she may be introduced, and so speak for herself. " A little time after we had received the news of my sister's death, one night, when I had retired, I began to wonder, with a feeling akin to rebellion, why this cruel war should be, and why my sister must be taken from us, and why my father and mother, in their last days, must carry such a burden of sorrow, when suddenly my sister herself seemed to be close beside me! She looked up, but oh, so beautiful she was! She had not changed in appearance except that there was a beauty which is not of this world, a beauty that neither tongue nor pen can describe. She pronounced my name so distinctly that it startled me; yet I was so awed that I could do nothing but just lie perfectly quiet and listen. She said: ' You are grieving for me; don't grieve. You do not know God's plan; I do. I can see from the beginning to the end; you can not. There is a veil before the eyes of the people on your earth; they can not now see what the end is to be.'

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