which make us shrink with fear, and which, for very shame for the
century in which we live, we try hard not to believe? It is as if with
eyes open she walked into a den of lions and expected them to give her a
loving welcome and a free egress.

Heaven help her, for she is in the midst of it and has begun her work;
the result of her fearlessness remains to be seen. I doubt greatly
whether we shall be allowed to receive reports of her daily life out
there, even where postal regulations are in force. We can but follow
her on her way from Moscow to Tomsk in thought, and picture to ourselves
the thousands of exiles she will find waiting there herded together like
brute beasts. She will not turn from them, even though typhoid be raging
amongst them--one can see her moving in and out among these miserable,
debased human beings, who lie tossing on those terrible wooden shelves,
helping them according to their needs; for she carries with her remedies
for pain and disease of body, and her simple faith will find means of
comforting heart and soul.

If any of those twenty thousand exiles who have this year trod the weary
way between Petersburg and Tomsk, and on again to the far-off districts
of Siberia, should hear of the coming of this gentle woman, strong only
in her love for them, I think it would kindle a spark of hope again in
their hearts. They would know that at least they were remembered by
someone in the land of the living.

Miss Kate Marsden has dared so much for these poor suffering ones that
she will not easily be turned aside by excessive politeness or brutality
on the part of officials from seeing the actual state of things. She
will not, I think, be content with viewing the Provincial Prison at
Tomsk, which is light and airy and occupied by local offenders, instead