"But what shall I do, when you are gone? How can I bear the separation?” "Jesus will be your best friend, and our separation will be short. We shall soon, very soon, meet in a better world; if I thought we should not, it would be painful indeed to part with you." "How does your past life appear to you now?" "Bad enough, but that only makes the grace of Christ appear the more glorious, "Jesus, thy blood and righteousness "As I stood by her bedside, about nine in the evening previous to her decease, perceiving that she was failing very fast, I told her I wished to take my leave of her before her speech and recollection left her. She raised her eyes to look at me once more, gave me her hand, already chilled with death, and with a feeble voice said, "Farewell-we shall soon meet again-Jesus will be your friend." When I told her that she could not live through the next day, she replied, "O joyful news; I long to depart." Sometime after, I asked her, "How does death appear to you Low?" She replied; Glorious; truly welcome." During Sabbath night she seemed to be a little wandering, but the next morning she had her recollection perfectly. As I stood by her, I asked if she knew me. At first she nade no answer. I said to her again, "My dear Harriet, do you know who I am." "My dear Mr. Newell, my husband," was her re ply; but in broken accents and a voice faltering in death. "The last words which I remember, and which I think were the last she uttered relative to her departure were thesc-"The pains, the groans, the dying strife." "How long, O Lord, how long!"" "But I must stop; for I have already exceeded the bounds of a letter, though I have come far short of doing justice to the dying deportment of this dear friend. O may my last end be like hers. I would now proceed to discharge the duty, which Harriet's dying request imposed on me, of administering consolation to you, and of beseeching the dear chil. dren to make a right improvement of this afflicting dispensation; but I hope the God of all consolation will himself wipe away your tears, and fill your heart with comfort, and that Harriet's dying intreaties, and tears and sighs, may be carried by the Spirit of truth to the hearts of the children, and of her other young friends, and may fasten conviction on their minds, and engage them to follow her so far as she followed Christ. With these hopes I must at present bid them all an affectionate farewelk "Harriet offered to give me her property by will, but I declined accepting it. She then proposed bequeathing a part of it to the Board of Commissioners, but my time was so completely taken up in attending on her, that I had "Perhaps you may censure me, my dear mother, for leaving Serampore before Harriet's confinement. I wish I had time to answer you fully on this head; but I can only say, that she did not expect to be confined short of three or four months from the time of our departure; that the usual length of a voyage to the Isle of France is not half that period; that Bengal is the most sickly place in all India, and this the most healthy spot in the eastern world; and that it was the unanimous advice of all our friends that we should go. Brother Judson would then have embraced the opportunity had I declined it. "I have now one request to make, and then I will close. Dr. Woods and Dr. Griffin will both see this letter. I wish one of them to preach a sermon on this occasion,-that it be published, and that an engraving, prepared from Harriet's miniature, be prefixed, and a short account of her sickness and death be added. Do let my request be granted. It will do good. It may be the means of converting many of Harriet's dear young friends, and it will, I hope, some time or other reach me. "I thank Dr. Woods a thousand times for his Sermon on the death of Mrs. Church, as well as for his missionary sermon, which last I received by way of Calcutta. My dear, dear mother I must bid you farewell. God Almighty bless you, and reward you a hundred fold for all your kindness to me. Do not forget me; I shall never forget you. Write whenever you have opportunity. I send my love to friends, for her sake. My ever dear mother, I remain your's affectionately, Mrs. M. Atwood. SAMUEL NEWELL." Mr. Newell enclosed a fragment, (from which the following sentences are taken) in Mrs. N's own hand. It is the commencement of a letter which she began to write to her mother, but which she was never able to Nesume. Port Louis, Isle of France, Nov. 3, 1812. "My ever dear Mother, SINCE I wrote you last I have been called by God to rejoice and weep; for afflictions and mercies have both alternately fallen to my lot. I address you now from a bed of great weakness-perhaps for the last time. Yes, my dear mama, I feel this mud-walled cottage shake, and expect ere long to become an inhabitant of the world of spirits. Eternity I feel is just at hand. But let me give you some account of God's dealings with me, which I shall do at intervals, as strength will admit.” [After mentioning the birth of a daughter, with fond anticipations of happiness, she adds the following sentences, which are the last she wrote.] We could weep for joy-and call ourselves the happiest of the happy. But alas! on the evening of the fifth day the dear object of our love was snatched from us by death, and on the Mr. Newell, apprehending that the forego ing letter might not reach America, wrote a letter to Mr. A. Hardy, with a view to repeat the substance of what he had before written. Extracts from this letter are here added. Port Louis, Isle of France, Feb. 23, 1813. My dear Brother, ment. "I WROTE to our dear mother, Mrs. Atwood, in December, by way of London. As that may fail, I shall briefly recapitulate some things which in that I stated at length--We were all ordered away from India by GovernI embarked with Harriet for this place in August. We had a most disastrous voyage; on the 8th of October, H. was delivered of a daughter, three weeks before we arrived here. Our dear babe took cold and died suddenly on the 13th, five days old. Harriet took cold at the same time, being exposed to a violent storm of wind and rain. The cold settled on her lungs, and terminated in a consumption. She rapidly wasted away, and on the 30th of November ended her days in this place. Two physicians beside myself attended her during her sickness It would be gratifying here to relate the exercises of her mind during her illness and at the hour of death;but I have time only to say, that she died rejoicing in the sure prospect of eternal life through the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ-Thus, my dear brother, I have been called to lay my beloved Harriet in her lowly bed, within the short period of ten months from the day of our marriage. I have buried both my parents, and several pear relatives; but I never new the bitterness * |