*~ ~ ~ M
W.             W,             ii~~
M. MEN MI
Wl-j
KEN
g\A~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~g, ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ —~
go,~~~~~~~~~~~,
KK: xK:
Im~~~~~~
N'KKKK~~~~~~~~~~~~~  ~            "N'AK~
Xg




MEMORIES OF MY LIFE  WORK.
TH E
AUTOBIOGRAPHY
OF
1IRS. HARRIET B. COOKE.
"With invocations to the living God,
I twisted every slender reed together,
And with a prayer, did every osier weave."
NEW  YORK:
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
No. 530 BROADWAY.
1858.




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of
New York.
STEREOTYPED BY                                 PRINTED BY
THOMAS B. SMeITH & SON,                        E. O. J ENKINS,
82 & 84 Beeklman-street.                        28 Frankfort-st.




11.tn  aMI;OR








PREFACE.
I OFFER no apology for the subject-matter of this
work. The truth is exhibited in a plain, unvarnished
statement of facts. For the manner in which these
delineations have been made, I am in a measure responsible; but, standing as I do upon the threshold
of the eternal world, the fear of criticism  should not
make me shrink from  any attempt to glorify my
heavenly Father. Had the reputation of authorship
been my only incentive for bringing these pages
before the public, they would long since have been
consigned to oblivion. Often, as I have reviewed
the dealings of God with me, I have desired to leave
my testimony to His mercy and faithfulness; but the
thought of sending it fbrth in the form of a printed
book never entered into my mind till it was suggested
by a few pupils and afterwards urged by several
Christian friends, who felt that a record of such an
experience might tend to strengthen many weary,
sinking pilgrims, and encourage them in their efforts
to educate our youth for God's service; and that by
this testimony I might leave
"Footprints that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.




vi                   PREFACE.
I have, with this view I trust, prepared this record
of God's dealings with His most unworthy servant;
and if I have been permitted to be the instrument of
good to any, to Him  be all the glory.  And while I
bless Him for the grace that enabled me to "go forward," trusting to His promise, and clinging to the
crucified One, I praise Him  for the fulfillment of
those promises, and look back upon the precious seasons of light upon my pathway as oases in the dreary
desert of the lonely pilgrim's life.
And thus I commend this simple effort to God's
blessing, with the prayer that in it I may not have
" labored in vain, or spent my strength for naught."
I trust that these sketches will not be unwelcome
to many who have listened but are now far away, but
will prove
"As pleasant books that silently among
Our household treasures take familiar places,
And are to us as if a living tongue
Spake from the printed leaves, as pictured faces.
Therefore, I hope, as no unwelcome guest
At your warm fireside when the lamps are lighted,
To have my place reserved among the rest,
Nor stand as one unsought and uninvited."




CONTENTS.
CHAPTElR                                          PAGE
I.-EARLY LIFE,........  9
II.-TEACHING,........   14
III.-MY CONVERSION,...... 17
IV.-MY MARRIAGE.  TRAINING OF CHILDREN. — THE
COVENANT,.                            23
V.-PECUNIARY EMBARRASSMENT).. 37
VI. —M  BROTHER'S DEATH,.....   42
VII.-REUNION WITH MY HutSBAND.-HIS DEATH,         53
VIII.-MY ILLNESS,....                  64
IX.-WIDOWOOD,........ 66
X. —VOYAGE TO NEW YORK. —THE SABBATH,..   7
XI. —VISIT TO MY EARLY HOME,..... 81
XII. —TEACHING IN VERGENNES,.....   84
XIII. —ATTENTION TO RELIGION.-OPPOSITION,... 90
XIV.-REMOVAL TO MIDDLEBURY,....                 96
XV.-REVIVAL OF 1830,..                99
XVI.-REVIVAL CONTINUED.-HEART SEARCHINGS,.  108
XVII. —INTERESTING CASES.-A SISTER'S INFLUENCE,. 114
XVIII.-REVIVAL OF 1831.-CONVERSION OF R. S.,.  117
XIX.-REVIVAL CONTINUED.-R.'S CONVERSION,.. 124
XX.-WILLIAM AND HIS R00OM-MATE...   133
XXI. —THE VARIOLOID,. 139
XXII.-MARIA'S ILLNESS AND DEATH,...      144
XXIII.-WILLIAM'S REMOVAL TO VIRGINIA-CHANGES,.. 167
XXIV.-RRESIDENCE IN WOODSTOCK. -REMOVAL TO NEW
YORKE,                                   169
XXV.-REMOVAL TO BLOOMFIELD.-VISIT TO VIRGINIA.REVIVAL,.                               173
XXVI.-ESTABLISHMENT OF BLOOMFIELD FEMALE SEMINARY.iREVIVAL OF THAT YEAR,..           178




Vii1                C O N T E N T S.
CHAPTER                                            PAGE
XXVII.-SCOTCH ELLEN.-ALICE E.-A COLORED CONVERT,..   184
XXVIII.-SUMMER OF 1838.-MISS A. J.,...  194
XXIX.-PROFESSOR P.'s DEATH.-MY OWN ILLNESS,. 196
XXX.-INTERESTING CASES-W. J. —H. T.-M. J.,.  201
XXXI.-REVIVAL OF 1839-40.-R. E.-L. A.-RESULTS, 207
XXXII. —ELIZA'S ILLNESS AND DEATH,...        217
XXXIII.-WINTER OF 1840-41,.                        232
XXXIV.-PERSONAL TRIALS.-DOCTOR ATWATER,. 235
XXXV.-REVIVAL OF 1843,.238
XXXVI.-LEILA's DEATH-WILLIAM'S CHILD,.. 246
XXXVII.-DEPARTURE OF MRS. WHITTLESEY FOR THE SANDWICH ISLANDS,....  250
XXXVIII.-VISIT OF MR. AND MRS. HUTCHINGS. —REVIVAL, 253
XXXIX. —DEPARTURE OF MR. AND MRS. BALDWIN FOR CHINA, 257
XL.-REVIVAL OF 1847-48.-CASE OF H. M.-CONVERSION AND DEATH OF H. C.,... 260
XLI.-M. M.-MISSIONARY Box,...  267
XLII.-VISIT TO MY YOUNGEST SON. —DEAF AND DUMB
INSTITUTION,...271
XLIII.-SUNSHINE AND SHADOWS,....  278
XLIV.-THE HEART UNVEILED.-POWER OF DIVINE
GRACE,.284
XLV.-FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER,.. 291
XLVI.-EARLY DEATHS.-MARRIAGE OF A TEACHER.REVIVAL.-TEMPTATION,....  298
XLVII. —RIDE IN THE CARS.-NIAGARA.-REMINISCENCES-DEPARTURE OF MR. D.-OUR NEW PASTOR, 307
XLVIII.-SUMMER OF 1852.-VISIT TO PHILADELPHIA.ILLNESS OF C. M.-REVIVAL,... 316
XLIX. —ENLARGEMENT OF THE CHURCH.-MR. D.'S MISSIONARY ADDRESS.-REVIVAL IN THE WINTER
OF 1854.-DEATH OF FRIENDS,...  330
L.-VISIT TO IMVENDHAM.-MEETING IN THE STUDY
HALL.-ITS RESULTS.-REVIVAL OF 1854-55, 336
LI.-TiRIALS OF TEACHERS.-WANT OF DISCIPLINE AT
HOME.-ILLUSTRATIONS,.... 348




AUTOBIOGRAP HY,
CHAPTER I.
EARLY  LIFE.
Our early days —How often back
We turn on life's bewildering track,
To where o'er hill and valley, plays
The sunlight of our early days.
I NEVER was a child. Trained by an ambitious
father, and an industrious and intellectual mother, my
earliest recollections find me at the age of four, seated
in my little chair, beside my mother, learning  "to
make papa's shirts," and committing to memory from
her lips, interesting passages from': Thomson's Seasons," and other favorite authors.  She was fond of
poetry, and from her I soon learned to love the early
writers of her ancestral home. Indeed so far as reading was concerned, it was these or nothing. Moore,
Byron, and Bulwer had not cast their blighting influence over the youthful mind, nor had the teeming
press disgorged its "millions of yellow  trash," to
pollute and destroy the intellect and the heart.
1:




10           AUTO B IOGRAPH Y.
True, there were romances in rich abundance, but
so extravagant were they in their exhibition of character, and in their developement of life scenes, that a
reflecting mind could hardly fail to become satiated
and disgusted in their perusal. Such was my experience as I turned from them to the study of History
and the English classics.
My early religious education was confined to a
strict observance of rites and ceremonies; but although I read the bible occasionally, of its precious
truth and doctrines, I was entirely ignorant. Proud,
vain, and self-conceited, it was my boast that II my
heart was good;" my motto, "' the generous, love and
hate with all their heart," and well did I honor this
motto.
At the early age of twelve, I was deprived of the
care and protection of a father, whom I almost idolized.  I well remember with what pride I looked
upon his manly form and noble bearing. In my view
he was no common man. With the enthusiastic ardor
of youth and the generous confidence of a sailor's
daughter, I regarded my father as a being, far above
his kind-my beau ideal of perfection.  I never dared
to disobey him, and yet there was no terror mingled
with my affection. Even now I can almost hear his
voice in song, or the soft tones of his flute, as they
melted the soul to tenderness and love.
Never shall I forget the morning of that day which
brought the sad intelligence, that my mother was a




MY FATHER AND MOTHER.   11
widow,-that I was fatherless.  He died far from
home, from friends and sympathy, and his body was
committed to ocean's waves to rest amid its waters,'till the morning of the resurrection:
"With white upturned brow,
He lies where pearls, lie deep;
And the wild winds rave, and ocean waves
Sing requiems o'er his sleep.
No tidings respecting his illness-no last words, or
messages of affection, ever reached our ears; —they
were all buried with him in the deep. The circumstances attending and succeeding his death were such
as for a long time to occasion peculiar emotions,
amounting sometimes almost to the hope that we
might yet possibly see his face again. A passing
barque that had spoken his ship, was greeted with the
intelligence of the death of its captain, but the ship
itself was never heard of more. Undoubtedly it
foundered at sea, and none survived to tell the story
of his death or of their own calamity, yet often afterwards, in the stillness of the night would the thought
find indulgence that the passing greeting of the two
vessels might have been misunderstood, and that he
might yet be restored to us.
O what trials then came over my young heart;
what blighting of bright prospects, what crushed
affections, what disappointed hopes and dark days followed. Wonderful was the mercy of God, in those
seasons of trial and poverty. My poor mother was




12            AUTOBIO G R APH Y.
strengthened for her trying duties. The widow's God
was near to help her, and through His blessing on her
unwearied efforts,'her children were educated for respectability and usefulness. Thanks be to God for
such a mother: her children do, indeed, call her
blessed, and they praise the Lord that she was spared
to them and to the Church of Christ. " The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance."  "The
memory of the just is blessed."  They rest in heaven.
Just fifty years after the death of my father, I unexpectedly came across a letter which he had written
to me, when I was but ten years of age. With what
mingled emotions did I look upon the sacred relic,
and in its expressions of earnest affection recall the
oft repeated admonition, " My dear H. love and obey
your mother; imitate her example; I ask no greater
boon for my child."
Much responsibility rested on me, as the eldest of
four children, and the dependence of my mother on me
for comfort, companionship, and assistance in training
her young charge, gave, perhaps, a maturity to my
character, that did me good service in after life.
Possessing a bold, ardent and independent mind, I
was generally the leader in every daring enterprise.
Once I remember being in imminent danger of drowning, through one of my youthful impulses. A few of
us-school girls —had wandered along the banks of
the Connecticut, in search of recreation. Seeing a
boat most invitingly empty, we agreed to take posses



ESCAPE  FROM  DROWNING.              13
sion of it, and have a sail. I volunteered to loosen
the rope, and push it from the shore. I succeeded
admirably in this attempt, but losing my balance, I
was compelled to spring into the water. The assistance of a kind sailor saved me from being swept away
by the current, and probably from being drowned.




CHAPTER II.
TEACHIN G.
"There's a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough hew them as we will.'
AT the age of sixteen I commenced my pedagogical career. Allured by the glowing representations
of interested seekers for teachers, then not so easily
obtained as now, and by a desire to " see the world,"
I was induced, in the year 1802, to exile myself
from my early home and take up my residence in the
Green Mountain State.  There I became acquainted
with character in all i's varieties, native and cultivated. Very different was the new world into which
I was now introduced, from the sober, staid habits of
old Connecticut.  My mind and character were affected by the change. The descendants of the Allen's
of revolutionary history were among my tried
friends, and with a new zest, and with a fresh accession of patriotic zeal, did I listen to the recital of the
thrilling scenes connected with the early story of that
enterprising portion of independent America.
Here my whole mind was given to worldly influences and pursuits. While kindness and affection
shed their sunlight around me, I gave myself up to




TEACHING.                   15
the enjoyment of the passing hour. No one cared
for my soul! no friendly voice whispered " prepare
to meet thy God." Separated from all the restraints
of home, and the tender watchfulness of maternal solicitude, "why," I have often asked, "was I preserved from ruin, when so many, in similar circumstances, make shipwreck of character and future
happiness?" It was the God of the widow who
followed me with His blessing; it was the Father of
the orphan who watched over my youthful steps.
Fearless of the future, and reckless of consequences,
while suffering, on one occasion, from a distressing
headache, which unfitted me for the duties of school,
I was induced, by the advice of an indiscreet companion, to try the effect of opium. Ignorant of the
quantity that might be taken with impunity, I ate, in
the course of the morning, a piece equalling a hazel
nut in size. Strange feelings warned me of my
danger, and I sought sleep at the house of a friend.
Scarcely had my eyes closed upon what threatened to
prove my last sleep, when the alarm was communicated by the thoughtless friend whose suggestion had
induced the dangerous remedy, and the efforts of the
physician and neighbors were put in requisition to
preserve a life that I had so carelessly jeopardized.
For twelve hours these efforts seemed unavailing.
I was not permitted to recline on a couch or bed. I
slept as they dragged me from place to place. It was
the depth of winter-snow was plentifully applied,




16           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
and yet I slept.  Emetics were administered, but
without effect, and not until the midnight hour was
any relief obtained. Then I awoke from my long,
restless sleep, in such a bewildered state that weeks
elapsed ere the faculties of my mind resumed their
natural powers.
A few days previous to this occurrence, a man lost
his life in consequence of taking, by mistake, a much
smaller quantity of the drug than I had eaten.
Thus, again, the orphan's Father watched over the
thoughtless one. But even this warning excited no
apprehensions respecting the life beyond the grave.
Truly of me it might be said, " She obeyed not the
voice; she received not correction; she trusted not in
the Lord; she drew not near to her God."




CHAPTER III.
MY  CONVERSION.
"Sower Divine!
Sow the good seed in me,
Seed for eternity.'Tis a rough, barren soil,
Yet, by thy care and toil
Make it a fruitful field,
An hundred-fold to yield.
Sower Divine?
Plough up this heart of mine."
MY removal to Middlebury, in 1805, to join my
mother, who had previously removed from Connecticut, and thus once more to complete the family circle,
was an important era in my life.  Here I found a
general interest awakened in the minds of the people
on the great subject of the soul's salvation, an interest
so new and strange to me that I resolved to keep
aloof from every effort to affect my feelings. Up to
this time I had never attended an evening meeting,
unless on some great saint's day, when, though there
was much to please the eye and the ear, there was
little, under the presiding administration, to touch
the heart. I say this with no sectarian feeling, for
if I know my own heart, I believe I can truly say,
" I love the church of God in all its branches."
A few friends had been for a long time in the prac



18           A UTO B I OG R A    P H Y.
tice of collecting at my mother's, to spend the Sabbath
evening, as we said, in rational conversation.  As
the religious interest in town increased, the question
arose among the female portion of our party, " is it
right for us to spend our Sabbath evenings in visiting, when there are those collected for prayer who
would rejoice to see us with them?"  Influenced by
the urgent invitation of a friend who had herself been
benefited by these meetings, we resolved henceforth to
spend the Sabbath evening in a manner more befitting
holy time, and promised to accompany her to the
house of prayer.  Our friend Catharine met us at the
appointed hour, and we went like strangers going to
a strange place. Half way there, we espied the
little company of our male friends, who had formed a
part of our Sabbath evening circle, as we thought,
approaching us, and not having sufficient independence to invite them to accompany us, or perhaps fearing that they would persuade us to a walk, we turned
from the public road, and passed unnoticed to the
place of meeting.
We were scarcely seated before those same friends
whom we had sought to avoid, entered the room.
Had Van Amburgh let loose half his menagerie upon
us, it could scarcely have created a greater sensation.
Looks of gratified surprise, passed from eye to eye,
and the beaming countenance of Dr. A., who was
then acting as our pastor, spoke his delight. With
the affectionate solicitude of a father did his earnest




THE PRA YER MEETING.              19
gaze rest on the youthful band, while all his energies
seemed aroused and concentrated on this one pointto attract our attention and to effect our hearts. The
words chosen as the basis of his remarks accorded
well with my feelings.  HIad he placed before me the
threatenings of the law against sinners-had he dwelt
on the misery of the lost, I should have listened calm
and unmoved. I had been baptized and confirmed,
and in accordance with my early instructions I was
prepared for the Kingdom of heaven; but when the
man of God arose and repeated, with deep feeling and
solemnity, " God is love,"-when he spread out before
us the exhibition of that love in the forbearance and
patience manifested towards us-His watchful providence guiding our wayward and inexperienced stepsguarding us from dangers-supplying our wants,
and, above all, giving his only Son to suffer and to
die for us, and freely offering salvation to all who
would accept of this Saviour-when he contrasted
this exhibition of his love with our forgetfulness of
Him —our ingratitude, rebellion, and rejection of his
Son, my heart was touched; I felt that I was the one
to whom the words of this ministry had been sent.
From that moment a fire was kindled in my soul that
was not quenched till the blood of Jesus extinguished
it forever.
On questioning the young men of our party how
they were induced to attend the meeting that evening,
they frankly acknowledged that, influenced by similar




20           AUTO BIO G RAPH Y.
views of duty to our own, they had formed a similar
resolution; that when they first saw us they were on
their way to the place of prayer, and fearing that we
were out for a walk, and would expect them to attend
us, they turned into another street,'and were equally
surprised with us, when, on entering the room, they
saw us quietly seated there.
Before that revival of religion passed away, all the
members of our little party were, as they hoped,
adopted into the family of the Redeemer. But there
were some circumstances attending my own conversion too striking to be hastily passed by. My early
education'had made me an Arminian. I had no belief in the doctrine of native depravity. I felt no
need of regeneration; that work had been accomplished at the baptismal font! The reasonings of
sceptical relatives had made me almost a deist, and of
course the doctrines of justification by faith, and of
eternal punishment had no place in my creed.
But now the arrow entered into my soul, and I
knew not what it was that had barbed its point.  I
left my home for a six months' sojourn, in a neighboring town. Engaged in teaching, I felt that there
was something wanting to my instructions that I
could not impart. Often, as I returned to my room
at night, have I wept over the second chapter of
Romans —particularly the verses that reprove the unfaithful teacher — resolving to commence a new life on
the morrow, but the following night found me again




CONVICTIONS.                 21
weeping over the disappointment of my hopes, and
thus, week after week passed, and still I remained in
ignorance of the cause of my distress. I knew notat least I felt not-that I was an enemy to the God
who had made me, and who claimed the homage of
my best affections; that I was a despiser of the
salvation of Him who had died to redeem me; but I
experienced a continual dissatisfaction with every
thing that I attempted to do; nothing seemed to be
done aright if done by me.  No christian friend
whispered that there was help for me only through
the merits of the Redeemer; none pointed me to the
offers of salvation so freely bestowed, while pride kept
me from appealing to any one for direction, in this
time of need.
My return to Middlebury in the autumn, brought
my feelings to a crisis. I found my sister much in
the same state of mind with myself.  Our friend
Catherine, had yielded her heart to the Saviour, and
she was the only one who urged upon us the duty of
submission to God. At a communion season in September, my distress became insupportable. Then it
was that the horrors of eternal death, seized upon my
soul, and filled me with unutterable and fearful forebodings. My heart was filled with a deep sense of its
alienation from God; I felt that I was indeed a sinner
in His sight, miserable, blind, and wretched; and as
I looked into the dark " chambers of imagery" within
my heart, I became fully convinced that nothing but




22           A U T O B I O GR AP II Y.
the blood of Jesus could cleanse the pollution there.
I returned home to throw myself upon the mercy of
a crucified and divine Redeemer, and then in the solitude of my chamber, I found peace in believing.
During all this season of deep conviction, while debarred the privilege of christian counsel and encouragement, I read no book but my Bible, and when
my mind opened to the blessed assurance that the
blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin, all the doctrines
peczliar to our Holy Religion, which are essential to
salvation, were perfectly clear to my mind. I could
but feel, that I had been taught by the Holy Spirit,
through the word of God.  Truly, I might say with
the Apostle, "I neither received it of man, neither
was I taught it, but by the revelation of Jesus Christ.'
Gal. i. 12.
On the 7th of October, 1806, Catherine B., my
sister, and myself, with twelve others, united with
the church of Christ in Middlebury, and publicly
" avouched the Lord Jehovah to be our God forever."
"Not unto us-not unto us, O Lord, but unto Thy
name be the glory, for Thy mercy and for Thy truth's
sake."  The feelings of my heart were, "Let every
thing that hath breath, praise the Lord."'




CHAPTER IV.
MY MARRIAGE.-TRAINING OF CHILDREN.THE COVENANT.
"The children of our care,
We dedicate to God;
We plead the promise in our prayer,
We plead thy precious blood;
Thy goodness we adore,
We sing thy matchless grace,
The covenant forever sure,
To thy believing race."
Two years after the public consecration of myself
to the service of my Saviour, I made in my Journal
the following record. "A new era has commenced in
my life.  I have exchanged a single for a married
state; have left that home, in the bosom of which I
have enjoyed many happy hours, for a situation most
responsible. For the goodness of God in granting me
a companion, who, I have reason to hope, has sought
and obtained the pearl of great price,-an interest in
the Saviour, with whom I can journey through life,
in one mind, one faith, and one Lord, I hope I am
not wholly insensible."  He was one of the little
company of friends who so singularly met, early in
the revival of 1805, in that "' place where prayer was
wont to be made," and who dated from that evening
their first serious impressions.




24            A UT O BI O GR A P HY.
How necessary is it that a woman placed in the responsible situation of a head of a family, should possess firm and correct principles; a heart warm with
love to God and to her fellow creatures. Actuated
by that benevolence which seeketh not her own, but
the good of those around her, she will strive to imitate
her Divine Master. Continuing, fervent in spirit, and
faithful in the discharge of duty, she will fully prove
that' the price of a virtuous woman is far above
rubies." " The heart of her husbaud will safely trust
in her, she will do him good and not evil, all the days
of her life. Her children shall rise up and call her
blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."
Agreeably to the above representation of the inspired penman, is the description given by Wilberforce of a happy family. " Can a more pleasing
image be presented to a considerate mind," says he,
"than that of a couple happy in each other, uniting
in grateful adoration to the author of all their mercies, commending each other and the objects of their
common care, to the Divine protection, and repressing
the solicitude of conjugal and parental tenderness by
a confiding hope, that through all the changes of this
uncertain life, the Disposer of all events will assuredly
cause all things to work together for good to them
that love Him, and put their trust in Him; and that
after this uncertain state shall have passed away, they
shall be admitted to a joint participation of never ending happiness." If it is indeed true, that such a de



MARRIED  LIFE.                   25
gree of happiness is attainable in this imperfect state,
how interesting to us to consider the means by which
it is acquired.
The pathway of married life, is often beset with
difficulties, and many times there are'" fightings without and fears within," aye, and the rebellious feelings
of a proud unyielding spirit, will sometimes cast their
shadows athwart the hearth-stone of domestic affections, and darken the brightest sunlight of a happy
home.  There is one lesson often learned too late to
be of much benefit-too often, alas, it is never
learned-that to constitute real, substantial happiness
in married life, not only must perfect confidence between husband and wife be established, but they must
learn to assimilate themselves to each other's temperaments and feelings.  Too often, each expects the other
to conform to his, or her views of right and wrong.
They have come together to journey on through life,
forgetful that education has imparted different views;
that religion, even, does not entirely assimilate tastes,
and at once correct natural propensities, and unless
they can agree to yield in minor points, disagreements
persisted in, may finally produce estrangement and
dissensions, while a willingness in the wife, to yield to
the influence of a superior mind, will strengthen the
government of both, and produce a confidence and
affection, that will always cast light upon the family
circle.
One after another a little group gathered round
2




26            A U T O B I O G   AP H Y.
our fireside, filling their parents' hearts with bright
anticipations of future comfort, and demanding much
parental care and maternal solicitude. Those only
can sympathize in such solicitude who themselves
have watched over these opening "' buds of promise,"
who have felt the throbbings of the mother's heart, as
she brings her little ones and lays them on the altar
of sacrifice, and consecrates the young immortals to
the service of her heavenly Father —whose eyes have
pierced through the thick veil of coming years, and
shuddered at the thought of temptations to be resisted,
of struggles against the enemy of souls, of the power
of sin within and of the fearful influences clustering
around the pathway of the feeble pilgrim of earth.
The fairest and the frailest of the infant band soon
passed away from earth-transported, as, a tender
bud, to blossom in the paradise of God.
The work of training children for usefulness here
and happiness in the world to come, involves an
amount of responsibility which few mothers are suitably qualified to meet. It calls for self government,
for how can a mother govern her child who has yet
to learn to control her own feelings and temper? It
requires knowledge of mind, in order to discriminate
correctly, and understand thoroughly, the different
dispositions which will be exhibited in the family
circle. There is the impetuous one to be restrained,
the self-willed and the obstinate to be subdued, and
the timid, the mild and retiring, to be brought forward




CO-OPERATION OF PARENTS.    27
and encouraged.  To effect all this, various plans
must be devised, much perseverance and patience
exercised, and, above all, there must be a frm, unwavering faith in His promises who has said, " I will
be a God to thee, and to thy seed after thee," constantly animating to renewed efforts in the labor of
love.
Too often parents have no settled plan of action.
The father, immersed in business-his mind filled
with carking care, grows remiss in the performance of
his home duties. He passes by, as trivial offences,
faults in conduct and dispositions that are rapidly
making their impress for evil, on the future character
of his children, and perhaps leaves to an injudicious,
weak, and indulgent mother the training of the
youthful despot, or the victim of passion. A case in
point. Visiting, some years since, in the family of a
neighbor, I became deeply interested in the conversation of Mr.  -, an intelligent lawyer, whose remarks were always instructive.  His wife, unqualified
to enjoy or join in the conversation; sat evidently
annoyed that she was a cypher in the circle. Determined to disturb us, she called her little son to her,
and commenced a spirited discussion with "Young
America."  The boy became very noisy.' James,"
said his father, "sit down in this chair by me."  " I
don't want to-mother wants to talk with me." "' Sit
still, sir," reiterated papa. The mother's eyes flashed
unspeakable thought and feelings.'"Ma! I want




28           AUT O B G  A P THY.
some sugar plums; you promisedme some." "W hy,
Jemmy dear, so I did;" responded the mother,
" here, dearie, come to me and get some, and ma
owes Jemmy ten cents to buy some more with. Mr., give me ten cents for Jemmy-dear boy."
The pleasant interview was broken up, the poor
father evidently felt this interference with his authority, and I returned to my home to meditate on the
influence of such a training on the youthful mind.
Yet this woman claimed the promises of God for her
children, and was loud in'her denunciations of unfaithful parents.
Another instance may be mentioned. Seated at
my window in the house of a lady with whom I was
boarding, her son, a wild, ungoverned boy of twelve
years, was worrying the cook, who could neither by
threats nor kindness, control him. " I will tell your
mother, and she will punish you," said the incensed
woman.   "Punish  me! will she," replied  the'youthful patriarch," " do you think I'm afraid of
it? Why, she has promised to whip me a hundred
times, and she never does it —she daresn't do it!"
Such mothers as these have often expressed to me
their strong hopes that their children would become
Christians in early life. On what could they reasonably base such expectations? Certainly not on the
assurance, " Train up a child in the way he should
go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."
Children are quick to detect inconsistencies in those




PARENTAL DEFECTS.                 29
on whom they are dependent for example and instruction. " You must not camperdict and tease mamma,"
said a little lisper to her brothers, " don't you know
mamma never tells lies?"  What a testimony from
the lips of infancy to the firmness and truthfulness of
a parent! It matters not how much is said to children on the importance of loving the Saviour, on the
wickedness of neglecting their duty to God, on the
ingratitude of forgetting him who is the Bestower of
all their mercies, if they see the love of the world
predominate in the hearts of their mothers-if greater
anxiety is manifested by them for their personal appearance than for the cultivation of their hearts, pride
and vanity will be engendered in the youthful mind,
and a distaste for religion and a love for the world
will " grow with their growth," until it strengthens
and ripens into positive aversion to every serious
thought and feeling. The daughter of such a mother
once boldly asserted that her mother did not pray,
she knew she did not.  On being asked how she
knew it, she replied, " because I never see her go
away alone by herself."
The mother's influence-who can fathom its depths?
Who can estimate its effects upon the mind of the
poor prodigal, who has wandered far from his home
and from his God? Poets have spoken out the
heart's emotions at the recollection of the home scenes
of early childhood. With what feelings of awakened
sensibility have many in after life, who have broken




*30             AU TOBIO GR APIH Y.
through all restraints, and made shipwreck of character and bright hopes, recurred to the times when a
pious, perhaps a sainted mother, stood out on the
heart's memories the very embodiment of all that was
lovely and of good report.
" My mother's voice I how often creeps
Its cadence on my lonely hours,
Like healing, sent on wings of sleep,
Or dew to the unconscious flowers;
I can forget her melting prayer,
While leaping pulses madly fly,
But in the still, unbroken air
Her gentle note comes stealing by,
And years, and sin, and manhood flee
And leave me at my mother's knee."
Never was parent more abundantly repaid for all
her early trials and difficulties through years of widowhood and self-denial than was I when the remark
of a beloved son was repeated to me, made in reply to
a friend who was speaking of the temptations to
which young men were peculiarly exposed in our
cities.
"You and I, C," said the friend, "know well
what these temptations are, and how fearful their influence on the youthful mind."
"No, I do not," was the prompt reply, "I was
never led astray into such scenes."
" Is it possible? And what influence, let me ask,
preserved you from these temptations?"
"My mother's," was the ready response, " I can



A MOTHER'S FEELINGS.                31
not now recollect an instance when I was in danger
of committing outward sin but the thought of the
effect it would produce on my mother's happiness restrained me."
My feelings, views, and resolutions in relation to
my own children will be best exhibited by a recurrence to the records of their early days.  I read in
my journal, under date of "May, 1816," while all
of them were yet almost in their infancy, the oldest
being not eight years of age: "My feelings have
been greatly tried by the misconduct of our dear L.,
dear with all his faults. The Lord direct his parents
to the best means of correcting and instructing our
children. Suffer not our prayers in behalf of these
loved ones to ascend in vain; suffer not our warnings
and instructions, however unfaithfully given, to be
lost upon them. I have no greater joy than to see
my children walking in the truth. Oh, that they
all may be accepted ill the Beloved, and if their lives
are spared, prove a blessing to the church and to the
world." Often in their early years I was so much
affected with my great failures in duty to my children, that I felt that 1 was unfit to perform these
duties as a Christian mother, and I was ready to sink
into despondence and almost despair. When I read
that the Almighty had said of His faithful servant
Abraham, " I know him, that he will command his
children and his household after him, and they shall
keep the way of the Lord," and again, when the Di



32           A UTO B I  GRAP H Y.
vine direction sounded in my ears, " ye shall lay up
my words in your heart, and in your soul, and bind
them for a sign upon your hand, that they may be as
frontlets between your eyes. And ye shall teach
them to your children, speaking of them when thou
sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the
way, when thou liest down and when thou risest up.
And thou shalt write them upon the door-posts of
thine house, and upon thy gates, that your days may
be multiplied, and the days of your children." I
felt that there was great deficiency in the training of
my loved ones.
Impelled by this feeling, I then began to think
more earnestly upon the condition and privileges of
the Abrahamic covenant. The more intently I studied, the deeper was the impression, that parental obligation and responsibility were not sufficiently insisted
upon by the ministry of Christ,-that believers were
not enlightened as they should be, on the great subject of training the children of the church for the
Redeemer's service, —that while they thought and
talked much of the necessity of prayer for their conversion, they forgot that another duty was enforced
by the word of God: "Fathers, provoke not your
children to wrath, but bring them up iln the nurture
and admonition of the Lord."
Often have I heard parents, with sad disappointment, exclaim, "I feel sure that in his infancy, I consecrated my child to God —that I sought, by faith, to




VIEWS  OF THE  COVENANT.              33
secure the blessings of the covenant for his soul,"
while I well knew that the early education of that
son, had been one of worldliness and folly.
Says one, in a sermon on the influence of education, "Though men are never made Christians in
heart, merely by a course of early instruction, and
discipline, independently of the special influences of
the Holy Spirit; are they not frequently made so, by
a course, in connection with such influences? And
would they not uniformly be, if the instruction and
discipline in question, were not more or less neglected?
Is there not fulness and firmness enough in the promises of God, to furnish ground for such an opinion?
Can any thing be plainer than the language, "train
up a child in the way he should go, and when he is
old, he will not depart from it?" Has not God promised to bless the means of grace, when they are faithfully used? Has he not, by a particular covenant,
given such a promise to faithful parents, in relation to
their children? May they not plead that covenant,
and when they are unsuccessful in their plea, is it not
because they have broken their part of this covenant,
by not performing their whole duty?"
By baptism, the children of the believer are adopted
as the children of the Church; now, if the Church instructed these her children, as she should, and in this
were seconded by parental faithfulness, then, I believe
we might expect with great confidence, the very early
conversion of such children.
2*




34           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
One, whose memory is still precious to the hearts
of many, who daily listened with delight to his instructions, the late Dr. White, Professor in the Union
Theological Seminary of New York, in a discourse on
the Abrahamic covenant, remarks, I' that the promise
to be the God of Abraham, and his seed after him, implies that the promise is spiritual and its blessings
eternal," and adds, " it is the duty of christian
parents to train up their children strictly in the ways
of virtue; to restrain them from all courses of immorality, and sinful and dangerous pleasures, and to
cause them to conform their lives to all the requirements of the gospel.  Do any say, " this is too hard
a requirement, they can not do it? We can only
answer them by replying, "'it is their duty,-God
will strictly require it of them, and will admit of no
apology to justify or extenuate their failures."
In the days of primitive christianity, and even of
our pilgrim fathers, the children of the Church were
carefully instructed in their religious duties, and restrained from intercourse with the children of the
world, and the general result, was, a blessing on their
efforts, and their youth were distinguished for early
piety. Now, it is impossible to discriminate between
him who has been dedicated to the service of God, and
him who acknowledges no such allegiance, and thus,
the minds of our children are filled with worldliness
and pride, and they become an easy prey to the destroyer.




SEASON OF SPECIAL  PRAYER.   35
As my mind dwelt with increasing interest upon
these topics, and my soul became more deeply imbued
with a sense of responsibility, I sought to find those
among the people of God, who would freely enter into
my feelings and aid me with their counsel and sympathy.  Conversing with a christian friend one day,
on this subject, I] learned that her husband and herself had set apart a particular hour, for special prayer
for their children-it was the very hour chosen by
my husband and myself to commend our loved ones
to the fatherly care of our covenant God,-and we
then agreed that this hour should henceforth be remembered by us, as a time in which to plead for each
other's children, till a71- should be embraced in the
family of the Redeemer. This covenant was carefully
observed and its object was eventually fully attained.
Frequent allusions to these seasons in my journal,
show with what interest they were observed, and what
encouragement they afforded to the anxious mother.
Very interesting to me, were my stated seasons for
religious instruction and retirement. Every morning
I required each child to repeat a text, of his or her
selection, and to explain it as well as they were able.
This seemed much to interest their feelings and to
elicit thought. After giving my own views of the
verses selected, in as simple language as possible, I
would kneel with them before the mercy-seat, and supplicate the blessing of God upon their souls. If any
one had been refractory, the particular case was men



36           A UTO B I O G  AP HY.
tioned, and intercession made for the individual, by
name. This seldom failed of producing a good effect..
Often have I been solicited by the weeping offender
to go with him or her, to pray to God to forgive their
sins, and make them to love Jesus. Every Saturday
evening, I devoted an hour to instructing them in the
catechism, and I strove to make the explanations so
simple, that even children could understand them. In
after life, I saw the benefits resulting from this
course, in the ability exhibited by them, in their efforts
to defend the doctrines of salvation, and in their freedom from doubts, respecting their truth.




CHAPTER V.
PECUNIARY  EMBARRASSMENT.
"Adversity, sage, useful guest,
Severe instructor, but the best;
It is from thee alone we know,
Justly to value things below."
IN the winter of 1813, my husband was persuaded
to enter into mercantile business, and formed a partnership in trade, with my brother.  Many reasons
were urged, in favor of such a change. The place
first chosen as a residence, was peculiarly unpleasant,
from the fact that the church was in such a state of
dissension and declension, that we could not enjoy the
stated preaching of the gospel. We therefore removed
to Middlebury, and were for a time most happy in the
society of early friends. Business prospered at first,
but an unfortunate contract, made by my brother,
previous to his connection with my husband, to furnish supplies for the fleet, on Lake Champlain, during
the last war with England, for which, owing to governmental difficulties, he was never compensated, brought
disaster and failure. As my husband had endorsed
my brother's notes, he was involved in the common
ruin, and our family was thus at once reduced to comparative poverty.




38            A U T O B IO G R A P H Y.
Of the trials of that season, none can conceive, who
have not been placed in similar circumstances; it
proved a fitting discipline for the severer chastisements that were soon to succeed.  My brother sought
a home in a southern city, hoping there to retrieve his
shattered fortunes, but my husband remained for the
purpose of effecting, if possible, a compromise with
their creditors. After occupying several months, in
a vain attempt to accomplish this object-at the close
of a week spent in most agitating conflicts of feelingthere seemed no alternative, but that the doors of a
prison were to close upon him. The trial came at
last. An unfeeling creditor would make no compromise, and late one evening, having spent a day of
agonizing forebodings, my husband returned home, to
tell me that that night he must sleep in the debtor's
room. Oh, the distress of that hour! it seemed as
though my heart would surely burst; " the wormwood
and the gall, my soul hath them still in remembrance."
Oh, season stained with ingratitude, with repinings
and rebellion. Never, since I hoped in the mercy of
the Redeemer, had I been sensible of such irreconciliation to the government of God.  I could see
nothing but judgment-an angry God, chastening me
in wrath. I tried to pray, but my heart rebelled, and
I dared not repair to the mercy-seat for help. All
night, I struggled in this terrible conflict, " without
were fightings, within were fears." I finally became




MY HUSBAND IN PRISON.               39
alarmed at the state of my heart, so opposed to the
dealings of that Being, who had so long borne with
my waywardness, and who had bestowed so many
blessings upon me. I knelt before the mercy-seatI besought the Lord to turn from me his fierce angerto hush the storm within; to say to the overwhelming
billows, " peace! be still!"
I could not approach him with that filial confidence
which would enable me to look up and see the hand
of a Father directing the rod that smote me. All was
darkness within and without. I could only cry, in
the agony of my Spirit, "all Thy waves and Thy
billows have gone over me. Thou hast covered Thyself with a cloud, that my prayer should not pass
through. I have transgressed and have rebelledThou hast not pardoned."
Gradually light dawned upon my mind, and peace
again visited my soul. A sweet resignation to the
will of my Father succeeded this storm of passion,
and I was enabled to say and to feet, " Even so,
Father, if it so seemeth good in thy sight." Then I
ventured to seek an interview with my husband, and
found him calm, cheerful and trusting in God. Could
the sympathy of friends have compensated for the
severity of this trial, it would indeed have fallen
lightly upon us. They could not remove, but they
did much to alleviate the suffering. A remark, made
to me by a young friend who was at this time a member of my family, who afterwards labored as a mis



40            AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
sionary among the Choctaws, and whose dust reposes
upon their prairie grounds, long dwelt upon my mind
and influenced my feelings in after life.
" I know not, Mrs. C., what the Lord designs by
his dealings with you, but one thing I have observed
in Christian experience, that such distressing trials of
circumstances and feelings are generally a preparation
for some peculiar work to which God has appointed
His people."
Friends crowded around the " prison house," to
offer aid and sympathy, and by their efforts in a few
days the husband and father was restored to the bosom of his family. Again the journal of the past
speaks the language of the heart:
"And now what shall I render to the Lord for all
His benefits? He has restored the loved one to the
family circle, and again we bow together around the
family altar to offer our united praises to the Father
of all our mercies. But what an experience has been
mine! The' chambers of imagery' have been opened
to my inspection; the Searcher of hearts made me
sensible of deep and hidden iniquities. He showed
me my weakness, my inability, if left to myself, to
exercise one holy affection. He taught me from
whom cometh my help, and He made me willing that
He should direct all my concerns, and enabled me to
cast all my burdens and cares on Him."
Soon after this our family circle was again broken.
My husband journeyed to one of the Southern states




SEPARATION.                  41
in quest of business; and I, with my children, took
board in my mother's family till we should be summoned to join the absent one in the land of strangers.
Wearisome days and months were those, and yet much
mercy was mingled with the trials of our temporary
separation. My time was spent in instructing my
children, visiting the sick, and comforting the afflicted.
In the summer I taught school and thus was able,
by my own efforts, to remove from my husband during his absence the burden of supporting his family
from his slender means.




CHAPTER VI.
MY  BROTHER'S DEATH.
" I had a brother oncePeace to the memory of a man of worth."
"c We live in deeds, not years-in thoughts, not breathIn feelings, not in figures on a dialWe should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most-feels the noblest-acts the best."
AT the close of August, 1819, the dear brother
who had sought a southern home was called away
from earth to enter upon the rest prepared for the
people of God. The yellow fever, which had that
year clothed so many families in mourning, passed
not him by, and he, " the only son of his mother, and
she a widow,'" departed in the midst of his usefulness,
and left many mourning friends to weep over disappointed hopes, and high expectations of future good,
effected for the Christian church.
Generous, manly and ardent in his affections, he
early decided to relieve his widowed mother from the
charge of his support, and thus was he necessarily
deprived of much of the instruction and discipline of
school which he might otherwise have enjoyed. His
great desire was to acquire wealth, and for this purpose he entered a mercantile establishment where his
indefatigable labors were well appreciated.




WANDERINGS  FROM  GOD.                43
But years must elapse before his great object could
be attained. Thoughtless upon the great subject of
the soul's salvation, all his desires centered upon this
one engrossing object, and his sisters saw, with much
anxiety, the influence that it exerted upon all his actions. Expressing to them, one day, his determination to become a rich man, and his vexation that the
future did not open with brighter prospects, one of
them  said to him, "Brother, we should tremble to
see your wishes gratified. It is our desire that you
should become a Christian, and for this our petitions
ascend daily to our heavenly Father. We do not
believe that God will suffer you to prosper while your
heart is so bent on worldly prosperity."
" Well, then, sis," was his angry reply,'" I wish
you would stop praying for me."
But a few months had passed ere a deep and thrilling interest in the subject of religion pervaded the
minds of the community, and his own was soon affected
by the question, 1" what shall I do to be saved?" His
distress was at times almost insupportable, and one
night, so intense were his feelings, that, almost bereft
of reason, he bade farewell to his mother and sisters,
declaring that they would never see him more.
Friends followed and arrested his steps, as with wild
insanity he was hastening to the river to make the
fatal plunge. The voice of prayer prevailed; the
Holy Spirit subdued the proud heart, and he sat
meekly and humbly at the foot of the cross.




44           AUTO B IO G RAP HY.
A short time passed and I beheld him present
himself, in company with a younger sister, and eighty
companions, most of whom were in the morning of
life, in the house of God, to profess his faith in the
Redeemer.  Previous to their admission to the church
this interesting group united in singing the hymn,
" Grace,'tis a charming sound," etc.
For several years he pursued a consistent Christian
course. All the time that he could command4 when
not engaged in business he devoted to the improvement. of his mind, and so sedulously did he study, that
he became a cultivated and intelligent Christian.
Thrown much, however, into the society of men of the
world, he gradually relaxed his hold on the Saviour
and became worldly; feelings and pursuits were indulged that he had hitherto considered wrong for the
follower of Christ, and his friends often feared that
he was a stranger to the constraining love of Jesus.
But the eye of the compassionate Saviour still rested
on the wayward youth; he was arrested in his career
of worldly prosperity and at once plunged into pecuniary embarrassments from which no earthly hand
could extricate him.
By the failure of the Government to remunerate
him for advances made to supply McDonough's fleet
on Lake Champlain during the last war, he became a
ruined man. Determined to make a vigorous effort
to retrieve his great losses, he left his northern home,




CONVERSION.                  45
to seek, in a southern city, the means honorably to
discharge the heavy debt that burdened him.
Furnished with introductions from some of the first
merchants of New York and Philadelphia, he landed
in Charleston, South Carolina, in the year 18 —, and
took lodgings in a hotel adjoining a fashionable theatre. As he stood, one evening, debating in his mind
whether to indulge in the tempting pleasure, where no
earthly eye could recognize him, or to take his stand
at once decidedly for God and religion, the thought
was suggested to his mind, " I am now to commence
a new life-God has smitten me for the worldliness
of my spirit-shall I provoke Him to inflict severe
chastisements, or by prayer and penitence return
unto Him whom I have justly offended, and in the
strength of the Redeemer consecrate myself anew to
his service?" A moment sufficed for the decision;
raising his foot, he brought it with energy to the
ground, and with his accustomed decision said,
" Henceforth I will live for God.'
Retiring to his room to seek aid from on high, he
marked out his future pathway, and while life was
spared he never departed from it. The letters, which
were designed merely to introduce him to fashionable
society, he destroyed, and presented only those which
would assist him in his business. For two years he
labored unremittingly in the cause of his blessed
Master. In a letter addressed by his partner to our
mother, after his decease, the writer states that'" he




46           AUTOBIO GRAPHY.
devoted from four to five hours every Sabbath to the
instruction of children, and during the week many
hours were spent in teaching adult blacks to read; in
short, during the last year, his whole time, when
freed from the business of the firm-in which he was
truly faithful-was spent in doing good to others."
He was superintendent of two Sabbath schools, and
was unremitting in his efforts to devise means by
which the greatest amount of good might be effected.
Every' Saturday evening was devoted by him and his
teachers as a season of prayer for a blessing upon the
instructions of the coming Sabbath.
Said a friend who was present at the last meeting
he was permitted to attend, " He remarked the necessity of being prepared for death, and of being able
to give a faithful account of our charge, and observed
that some of us might be in eternity before the next
Saturday night. True; he who mingled his voice
with ours that evening in the praise of God, was mingling it in far more exalted strains with the spirits of
just men made perfect before another Saturday night
rolled around.
On the Sabbath he was unwell, but attended as
usual to his Sabbath school duties. A physician was
called in the evening and he was immediately placed
under medical treatment for fever. Said his pastor,
Dr. Palmer, of Charleston, who visited him on Monday, " I found him with a high fever, and in much
bodily pain, but comfortable in his mind. At his




MY BROTHER'S DEATH.                47
request I prayed with him, and my heart was enlarged in his behalf. On arising, I observed him in
the attitude of fervent devotion.  He afterwards told
me that on that occasion he felt a sudden and very
remarkable relief afforded to his bodily sufferings;
that they all left him, as it were, in the twinkling of
an eye, and that his spirit was remarkably composed
and tranquilized.  I saw him  again on Wednesday,
and found that his disease had considerably progressed, and that his physician had pronounced it one
of the most malignant and.alarming cases of yellow
fever that had come under his knowledge. He received my visit with peculiar gratification, and with
an animated smiling countenance grasped my hand
while I took a seat near his bedside.
" He then requested me to assure his dear mother
and sisters, that he was as affectionately attended, as
though he were under their roof; that his Christian
friends generally, and particularly, the affectionate
couple who had taken him into their family, were to
him mother and sisters. Repeatedly, during his sickness, he remarked on the goodness of God, in raising
up for him such friends, and he desired me further to
say, that in point of real Christian enjoyment, he was
as highly favored, and as happy, as though he was
surrounded by his numerous and valued christian
friends, in Middlebury.
"He laid-a solemn injunction on me, and even extorted a promise from me, which I gave very reluc



48            A UT OBIO GRAPH Y.
tantly, that I would not, in any public discourse, or in
print, utter any thing, in praise of what he was, or
what he had done, stating, as his reason, that such
notice was due only to grey-headed veterans in their
Master's service. I endeavored to convince him, that
good might be done to others, by stating some things
in relation to him, the praise of which we would still
ascribe to Divine grace. But his purpose was immovable, and he would allow me to say nothing more,
in any publication, than to state his name, his age,
and the fact that he was a teacher in the Sabbath
school.
" He requested me to address the teachers and pupils
of the schools of which he was the superintendent, on
the Sabbath morning after his decease, and make such
improvement of the event, as I thought would do them
good. On Thursday, I called to see him three times.
He expressed some doubts whether he would not yet
recover; said that there were some reasons why he
thought the Almighty might see fit to restore him,
and why he would desire it himself. He was perfectly
willing to depart, and hoped his life would not be
spared, and that his friends would not pray for its
continuance, with any other view, than that of his unreserved surrender of himself to his heavenly Master's
service.
" When I had prayed by his bed-side, around which
were collected a group of young Christians, chiefly
fellow-laborers in the Sabbath school, it was made a




HIS  HAPRPY  DEATH.                49
subject of special petition, that his useful life might
be spared, that he might have more opportunity for
doing good, &c. He gently reproved what I had
done, by observing that Christians ought to pray for
a brother present, in different terms, from what they
might use in his absence. I have never seen such
abhorrence expressed at every thing that looked like
self-approbation or self-exaltation.
"Disinterestedness appeared a peculiar trait in his
character. Throughout his illness, he preserved uniformly, a tranquil, happy, joyful frame of mind,
speaking of his own death, and all the circumstances
attending it, with the utmost calmness, and frequently
with a smiling countenance.
"Yesterday another physician was called in for
consultation, one of rather infidel sentiments. To him
Mr. L. said,' Doctor, I have had two physicians attending me ever since I was taken ill, one an infallible One,
whose prescriptions never fail;' then taking up a small
pocket testament that lay on his bed, and holding it
in his physician's view,'this' said he,' is His book
of receipts.' During the whole of yesterday, he
seemed to be impressed with an increasing conviction,
not only that his death was certain, but that his time
was short; several times in the course of the day he
affirmed that all would be over by ten o'clock this
morning. At nine o'clock this morning, I called to
see him; found him composed and in full possession
of his senses.  When I asked him if he knew me, he
3




50. AUTOBIOG RAPHY.
replied,' it is my dear Dr. Palmer.' I-e addressed
every one around him, with the utmost tenderness and
affection: he insisted that his shroud should be made
in his presence, and would not be satisfied, till it was
brought to him, that he might see it with his own
eyes.
" At a quarter past nine, he asked, what o'clock it
was. On being told, he replied,' the conflict will soon
be over.' We sang the hymn,' There is a land of pure
delight, &c.; he said that Jesus was on the other side
of Jordan, beckoning him to come, and frequently
prayed to God to take him, and then would ask forgiveness, if he was too impatient to be gone. We
knelt in prayer, and besought the Lord to afford
him a comfortable, speedy, and easy passage. After
a few gasps, his spirit fled, at the very moment at
which he had all along said his dismission from
the body would take place, precisely at 10 o'clock,
August 27, 1819.
" He was by strangers honored-he is by strangers
mourned; we knew his worth-we are drowned in
tears. To the Sabbath schools, it would seem, that
his loss is irreparable. It is a heavy stroke to our
religious community, of which he was a very active,
useful, and most exemplary member. Rich are the
comforts which his mother and sisters may enjoy, in
reflecting how he lived, and how he died-and how
he now reigns."
Such was the testimony of his pastor, concerning




CONSOLATION  IN  HIS  DEATH.    51
his life and his death, to which might be added similar
testimonials, from other friends, to the triumphs of
grace in giving him the victory.
" His entire exemption from delirium, was a remarkable circumstance in his case, as yellow fever is
almost uniformly attended by derangement of mind.
His skeptical physician, declared,'that it was the
greatest triumph of Philosophy he had ever witnessed,' and both of his medical attendants, asserted
that his was the only case that they had ever known
where the patient retained the full exercise of reason,
after the black vomit had commenced."
The friend who had taken him to his own home, at
the commencement of his illness, and who, with his
companion, were truly brother and sister to the dear
departed, gave us the above statement, with many
additional circumstances that cannot here be recorded.
One little incident deeply interested us. On the day
previous to his death, my brother took a piece of
paper, and wrote with his pencil, in large letters,
"GOD IS LOVE," and requested that it might be
placed opposite to his bed, where it would be constantly in view. Oh! what consolation was afforded
to his bereaved mother and sisters, by these precious
testimonies.  " He is not lost, but gone before,"' was
the language of our' hearts.
"There may we meet, when a few more suns or
seasons shall have cast their departing shadows upon
his silent grave. Death separates, but it can never




52              A U T OB I O G R A P HIIY.
disunite those who are bound together in Christ Jesus.
It is no more death but a sweet departure —a journey
from earth to heaven. We are yet one family,-one
in memory-one in hope-one in spirit."
"When no shadow shall bewilder,
When life's vain parade is o'er,
When the sleep of sin is broken,
And the dreamer, dreams no more
When the bond is never severedPartings, claspings, sobs and moans,
Midnight waking, twilight weeping,
Heavy noontide-all are done;
When the child has found its mother,
When the mother finds the child;'When dear families are gathered,
That were scattered on the wild;
Brother, we shall meet and rest,'Mid the Holy and the blest."




CHAPTER  VII.
REUNION  WITH  MY HUSBAND. —HIS DEATH.
/""Has sorrow's withering blight,
Your dearest hopes, in desolation laid,
And the once cheerful home, in gloom arrayed;
Yet pray, for He can turn the gloom to light.
So in the world above,.,
Kindred and friends inaty meet at last,
When this life's weary pilgrimage is past,
To mingle their rejoicing notes of love."
AND now came the trial of parting with a widowed
mother, with bereaved sisters, with the friends of
other days, to join my husband, in his far-off southern
home.   Many were the  conflicts, the  emotions of
sorrow and of joy, that agitated my heart, at this
time. I went forth as does the missionary to foreign
climes, with the expectation that I should return no
more to my own land. Traveling was then effected
by the slow progress of the weary stage-coach, or by
the tardy movement of the steamless vessel.
Previous to our departure, many Christian friends
assembled to commend us to the protection of our
heavenly Father.  The parting hour arrived, and sad
hearts and weeping eyes, testified that this was no
common trial. Our poor mother who had just consigned her only son to the silent tomb, as she bade
farewell to so many objects of fond affection, seemed




54            AUTOBIOGRAPH Y.
overwhelmed with the thought that the ties to earth
were fast being sundered.
For four weary days was our slow vehicle dragged
through mud and rain, e'er we reached a temporary
resting place, in the city of Troy.  Late, on the following day, we embarked on board a sloop for New
York,-the only steamboat that then plied upon the
waters of the Hudson, having been already carefully
packed away for the winter,-and eight dreary days
were spent in drifting along, at the mercy of the
wind and tide, before we reached that city. Disgusted with most of my associates; confined to a small
cabin, with few intellectual resources; how irksome
were the passing hours.  Still; I found our tiny
saloon, a fine place for the study of character-for
observing the different dispositions and propensities of
men-and above all for learning lessons of patience
and submission.
Our steward, —a Portuguese, in size, a  "son of
Anak " - disturbed me much by the repetition of profane expressions, to which my children were compelled to listen. In vain I expostulated with him, he
treated me with respect, but insisted that the habit
was too powerful to be overcome. Determined to
make another trial, I pleasantly offered, one day, to
wash his cups and saucers for him, morning and evening, if he would desist from the practice, and added
that it might prove a great relief to him, as we were




SETTLE IN  AUGUSTA.              55
probably embarked for a long voyage. The appeal
to his selfishness prevailed.
"Ah, madam," said he, in his broken English,
"you be so very good, I can deny you notting."
A week after my arrival in New York, when I
went on board the vessel that was to convey me to
Savannah, this same Portuguese was the first to greet
me.
" Why, Pedro, how came you here?"
" Ah, madam, you so very good, I follow you,"
and no more oaths were heard from his lips.
We embarked on board the Levant, and after a
stormy passage of eight days, reached Savannah in
safety. Here I left the friend who had thus far taken
charge of me and mine, and proceeding to Augusta,
the place of our final destination, arrived there on the
morning of December 25, 1819, in season to partake
of a Christmas dinner with my beloved husband.
How did my heart bound to meet him from whom I
had been so long separated. I hope I was thankfulI am certain I was rejoiced.
That winter passed happily away, in the society of
of my best earthly friend, and in efforts to train our
children for God. Many are the mournful records
in my Journal, of my forgetfulness of recorded vows;
of my worldliness and unfaithfulness in my Master's
service. I prayed to be delivered from this worldliness, that my soul might no more cleave to the dust.
My heavenly Father heard my prayer, and answered




56            AUTO B IO G R A P HY.
it by blighting all my earthly prospects.  The "desire of my eyes," was removed by a stroke,-my
"house was left unto me desolate,"-" widow and
orphans," was written against me and my bereaved
children. What a change did a few short days effect
in my situation. At one moment, I was blessed with
the affection of a worthy and beloved husband, whose
smiles brightened the dear domestic fireside —-the next,
solitary and sad, I was a stranger, in a strange landdestitute-desolate -afflicted.
During the summer, the fevers to which northern
constitutions are generally susceptible, laid many a
strong man low; and besides the care of our little
family, and the performance of my husband's duties
as an instructor of youth, we found our time fully
occupied in ministering to the sick, who, like ourselves, strangers from home, had none to care for them
in the hour of trial. Some we took into our dwelling,
and little did I imagine, while watching beside their
beds, how soon I must perform the same painful task,
for a far dearer friend.
But the trying hour drew near, and this friend,
who had never known what it was to be laid aside from
active duties, since my acquaintance with him, was
also visited by the fatal pestilence. Of his exposure
to sickness, I never dreamed; but I often thought of
the probability that to myself or to my children,
the change of climate might prove fatal. This fear
in my husband, turned all his solicitude from him



PROSPECTS FOR  HAPPINESS.    57
self, and he watched over us with the tenderest
anxiety.
How often did this beloved one speak of his present
happiness, and dwell upon the prospects opening for
future domestic comfort. A few evenings previous to
his illness, he said to me:
"We want nothing to add to our enjoyment but
the society of our northern friends."
He then made a calculation of the time it would
require to liquidate the heavy debt, with which he
was now wholly burdened, by the death of my brother,
but which he was fast diminishing, by frequent payments from a generous salary.
" In four years," he said, "I think it can be accomplished, and then we shall be free from this pecuniary trouble, and we may be reunited to those
whom we love."
"0 do not deceive yourself," I replied, "with
hopes that may never be realized. I feel, that with
us, every thing future is most uncertain."
"But you know, there can be no great danger in
planning, if we never execute. It is pleasant even
to talk of meeting friends again;"
Never shall I forget the deep emotions excited in
my breast, on the evening of the succeeding Sabbath,
as seated with him in our chamber, surrounded by
our little family group, enjoying a delightful moonlight scene, we sang at his request the hymn



58            AUTOBIOGRA PHY.
"Come we that love the Lord
And let our joys be known."
VWe conversed on the blessedness of those, who behold
the glories of Immanuel, and never, never sin." Our
souls were raised above the world, and I believe that
we enjoyed an elevation of feeling, a solemnity of
spirit, that was peculiarly calculated to prepare us for
the approaching trial.
On the next day, Mr. C. complained of feeling very
unwell, and consulted a physician.  Doctor S. seemed
anxious, and bade him attend carefully to his prescriptions. As I urged him to eat some food that I had
specially prepared for him, for which he had no appetite, I laughingly said: " 0 you must eat; I shall
not suffer you to be sick," the physician, with a look
and manner that struck to my heart, and which has
since convinced me that he was aware of the danger
that threatened him, said to me, "my dear friend, you
are not Omnipotent!"
For three days, my husband was able to walk about
the room, but complained much of his head. Some
circumstances, since recalled to mind, have led me to
believe that he was aware of his danger, though he
carefully concealed it from me. He was unwilling
that I should leave his room, even for a short time,
and when I urged the claims of the family, his reply
was,
"Let -them manage for themselves now, I can not
spare you, I want your society."




MY HUSBAND'S ILLNESS.               59
I did devote myself to him, and during this last
week of intercourse, it now seems strange, that not a
single word escaped us, respecting the probability of
a separation. I thought it scarcely possible. I considered his indisposition as the result of a cold, accompanied by a slight fever, which a few days of quiet
and seclusion from care, would entirely remove.
On Saturday, the distress in his head increased,
and he became delirious, but as the Doctor had said
that the fever would form a crisis on that day, or on
the following Monday, I was not alarmed. His situation distressed me, and the physician, deceived by my
appearance, supposed that I was aware of his danger,
and therefore did not speak of it to me.  Some favorable symptoms, awakened hopes in the mind of Doctor
S., that he might recover. A partial restoration to
reason, on Sabbath morning, gave me still greater
confidence, and I then resolved, that as soon as the
room should be cleared of visitors, and he had rested
from the fatigues of the morning's interruptions, I
would enjoy a conversation that I had desired to have
with him. I wished much, that we might both be
profited by this visitation, and both renew our consecration to God, and commence a new life. We did
each commence a new life indeed. He, I trust, entered into glory-and I was left a widow.
When our friends had gone, Mr. C. complained of
great exhaustion, gave his pet, as Maria called herself, a kiss, and fell asleep. I took my seat beside




60           AUTOBIOGRAP HY.
him, resolving to improve the first hours of his awaking. He did awake, but he knew me not-he knew
me no more, unless he recognized me in delirium, and
never again were the lips of my husband opened to
address me, in the language of affection. Though the
delirium continued, I entertained no apprehensions of
the result of that crisis on the nmbrrow to which I
was looking with so much anxiety, and so much
assurance that it would prove favorable.
Though many kind friends offered their services, I
preferred to be his only watcher through the hours
of that solitary night. As with the point of a diamond,
are the sensations of that watch graven on my soul.
No creature was near me, save a young servant, and
my children, who were all in a sound slumber, unconscious of my distress. Every noise reverberated
through the large building in which we dwelt, and as
my husband's delirium increased, the loud howling of
the watch dog, and the low moaning of the wind,
seemed to excite in him a distressing terror. It was
a night never to be forgotten; yet it seems strange
to me now, that through all those dismal hours, I
never revolved in my mind the probability of the
greater trial that awaited me; nor even when I collected my family in the morning, around the bed of
the dear unconscious sufferer, to beg for a blessing on
the means employed for his recovery, did I entreat for
peculiar support under peculiar trials.
I have since thought, that God in mercy prevented




THE FATAL CRISIS.                61
my suspicion of his danger, knowing that exhausted
nature would sink under the fatigues of incessant
watchings and distress of mind. lie continued insensible to the anxiety of friends, and unconscious of the
presence of the beloved ones, who gathered around his
bed until twelve o'clock. At that time, a friend who
had just entered, first conveyed to my mind the idea
of danger, and just at the moment that the spirit was
forsaking its earthly tenement, did I first learn that I
was about to be bereaved. Stunned by the blow, I
made no resistance to those who led me from the room
to my chamber, and there, on my knees, I awaited,
what even then, I hoped would be a favorable issue to
this terrible crisis. But when the words of Doctor
S. sunk into my heart," All human help has failed,'" I then -felt in all its
bitterness that I was indeed a widow.
I was, literally, alone, with no female friend to
comfort me in this time of trial, though surrounded by
many who knew and respected the departed, and who
would fain have sympathized with me, in the desolation which spread over my soul. Truly at such a
time " the heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a
stranger intermeddleth not with it." I was stricken
to the dust, but not forsaken; cast down, but not in
despair. Though the shock I received, from the suddenness of the blow, nearly dethroned reason, I was
not left comfortless. Heaven was now brought near
to earth; only a narrow passage-and it seemed very




62            AUTOBI OGIRAPHY.
narrow-separated me from the friend and companion
of my youth and riper years, whom I expected soon to
meet in our Father's home. Eternity seemed very
near, and so impressed was I with the belief that I
should very shortly follow the departed one to glory,
that the trial seemed more like the temporary separation of those who look forward to a speedy reunion.
O could I then have viewed the long and weary way
which lay before me; the privations and trials I was
to meet in educating my children, and in providing
for their support, surely heart and flesh would have
failed, and I should have sunk beneath the stroke.
On the morning after my husband's death, as I sat
weeping by the side of all that remained of him on
earth, my little M. entered the room, and in her
usually affectionate manner took my hand and said,
" Mamma, why do you cry?"
I pointed to her father, and spoke of the loss that
we had all sustained.
" Mamma," she said, "do you believe that Pa has
gone to Heaven?"
" Most assuredly, I do," was my reply.
"And are you crying because Pa has gone to
Heaven?"
The reproof of the child was not unregarded, and
often, in after times, when I have felt the bitterness
of my trial in all its freshness, has this question recalled to mind, made me ashamed of the selfishness of
my grief. Dear E. too, though but six years of age,




MY CHILD-COMFORTE R.                63
was made a comforter to me. Sitting with me a few
days afterwards, she asked permission to read the
Bible to me. I bade her choose a chapter for herself,
and she, opening the sacred volume, read the fiftyfourth chapter of Isaiah: "Thy maker is thy husband; the Lord of Hosts is his name; and thy
Redeemer the Holy One of Israel."' For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but
with great mercies will I gather thee.
" In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a
moment, but with everlasting kindness will I have
mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer," &c.
It seemed to me truly as though God was speaking
to me by the mouth of infancy. Again and again did
I peruse that chapter, and from it derive strength
that was to support me through new and trying
scenes.




CHAPTER VIII.
MY ILLNESS.
" When languor and disease invade,
This trembling house of clay;'Tis sweet to look beyond my pain,
And long to fly away."
IT was ascertained, that my husband's death was
directly owing to the influence of a miasma, generated
in a large marsh, which was about two miles distant
from the building that we occupied, and as the situation was pronounced unhealthy, we were in a few
days removed to the "' Sand Hills," to spend the remainder of the summer months in the family of
Colonel W.  Doctor S. had pronounced my husband's
illness a decided case of yellow fever, and I had
scarcely become settled in my new home, in the midst
of kind and attentive strangers, before the same disease
attacked me; but it came not to me like a "' thief in
the night," for judging from my feelings that disease
was approaching, I had taken such precautionary
measures as greatly diminished the violence of the
attack.  "But for this." said my physician, "humanly speaking, you would have been laid beside your
husband."
Never shall I forget my feelings at the commence



SUPPORT IN ILLNESS.               65
ment of this illness. I believed I was about to bid
farewell to earth, and I desired " to set my house in
order," while I had my reason. I examined anew the
foundation of my hope-and though I found much,
very much in my past life, that called for humiliation
and repentance, I felt that the blood of Christ could
and would cleanse me from all my sin. I felt assured
that I had put my trust in Him, and that I should not
be cast off. The promises of God seemed to be so
suitable for every condition, and to contain such a
pledge of covenant blessings to my dear children,
that I was enabled to cast them all upon His fatherly
care, and while they stood weeping around my bed, so
great was the peace and joy of my soul that I could
scarcely refrain from singing aloud,
" Arise, my soul, with joyful powers,
And triumph in my God."
For four weeks was I prostrated by extreme suffering. I was often deprived of my reason or was in a
state of entire insensibility, but when conscious of my
situation I fully expected to be summoned to join the
loved ones who had preceded me to their heavenly
home. Through the whole of this distressing sickness my blessed Father did not forsake me. His
comforts and promises refreshed my soul, and before
He brought me back to the activities of the world, He
made me willing to live, to suffer, or to die, as He
should direct.




CHAPTER IX,
WIDOWHOOD.
" The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide."
WITH returning health, the question presented itself, what shall I do? —in what business engage, in
order to support myself and my children?  After
much prayer and consultation with friends, I determined to open a boarding-house, and in October, with
my pecuniary resources reduced to nine dollars, my
health still feeble from my'severe and protracted illness, I commenced my new life of widowhood and responsibility.
The trustees of the Academy had kindly paid my
husband's salary to the close of the term, but this was
exhausted by the necessary funeral expenses, and by
my illness; and they also granted me the privilege of
educating my sons in the Institution, free of expense.
Now was the time to feel in its full force, the extent of my loss. Daily was I reminded by my ignorance of business, and my exposure to imposition of
every kind, of the affection of that dear husband, who
would never suffer me to be burdened by providing
for the family when he was near. The wants of a




TEACHINGS OF THE SANCTUARY.   67
large family of boarders to be supplied, and that liberally and satisfactorily-my children, too young to
appreciate their loss, or their mother's care or anxiety
on their account, —without resources, and in feeble
health, my faith, and hope, and spirits, would at times
all sink, and I could only cry out in my distress, " 0
that it were with me as in months that are past!"
Often did I, in the agony of my spirit and the rebellion of my heart, desire that God would prepare
my children and take us all to Himself.
One day-" a day of darkness and of gloom" —in
which I had been more than usually perplexed and.
tried, I had frequently exclaimed in the spirit of impatience, " Oh! that I had wings like a dove, I
would flee away and be at rest." The evening bell
reminded me that the hour for our weekly lecture had
arrived. I was too unhappy to desire to leave the
house, but something whispered to my heart that the
sanctuary was the place to find comfort, and I went.
The hymns selected spake reproof to my rebellious
heart, and I was awed in the presence of that God
who knew what'was in my heart; but when the
minister of God arose and repeated for his text the
very words that had so often risen to my lips through
the day,-" Oh! that I had wings like a dove, I
would flee away and be at rest," —I felt assured that
God had directed my steps to the sanctuary, and the
message to my soul; and when he feelingly spoke of
the cowardice and rebellion which often dictated that




68            A UTO B I O G RA PHY.
prayer; of our unwillingness to meet the discipline
which our heavenly Father sees we need, and applies
in parental love, my heart was humbled within me,
and I trust I returned home penitent and submissive.
Many were the trials I experienced, on account of
my children, and from anxiety, lest my sons should be
corrupted by intercourse with irreligious and immoral
companions; many the difficulties I passed through,
in providing for my large family, but I think that
after this reproof in the sanctuary I never suffered'
myself to sink so low in despondency. " Leave thy
fatherless children and I will preserve them, and let
thy widows trust in me," was a promise on which I
rested in confidence.
Often, in a wonderful manner, did my Father, who
beheld all my need, graciously supply my wants.
Accustomed to carry every burden and lay it at the
foot of the cross; to go and tell Jesus my every necessity and every trial, I was never sent from the
mercy-seat without some token of His love, while supplies would sometimes be granted in a way so unexpected that it seemed as though the windows of heaven were opened for my relief.
The two succeeding years were marked by events
of thrilling interest. They will ever live in remembrance, to awaken humility and gratitude; they were
preeminently years of preparation for my subsequent
career. I suffered much from pecuniary embarrassments, and often was so straitened for means that I




MY QUAKER FRIEND.                 69
could scarcely maintain abroad an appearance of respectability, and yet the fact was not suspected, as
economy and close calculation, aided by my mourning
garb, did me good service. My children had little
idea of the sacrifices and privations to which their
mother submitted that they might enjoy the advantages of good society, and the privileges of a good
education.
The example of Mrs. Graham, of sainted memory,
often inspired me with courage when heart and flesh
seemed failing, who, when sitting down to her frugal
meal of "potatoes and salt"' could say, " I delight to
do thy will, 0 my God."
" Peace with God," says her biographer, " and a
contented mind, supplied the lack of worldly prosperity, and she adverted to this, her humble fare, in
after life, to comfort the hearts of suffering sisters."
Her experience and submission did serve greatly to
encourage and strengthen mine.
Among the varied trials to which I was subject, was
one of no ordinary character. Most of the boarders
who resided with me during the winter, were accustomed to spend their summer months in traveling, or
at their northern homes.  Only two of the inmates of
my dwelling professed to love the Saviour, and they
kindly led in our family devotions, and asked the
blessing of God upon our daily meals. On the evening previous to their departure, I was conversing with
a Quaker gentleman, who was also a member of my




70           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
family, and proposed that he should perform the latter
service for us, as he did not hesitate to call himself
a Christian.
"Well, Harriet," said he, "I will see what I can
do for thee, the Spirit may not move me. I will
see."
"May I then call on you to perform this kind
office, and will you promise to oblige me?"
With one of his arch smiles, he nodded, as I thought,
his assent, and left me.
When summoned to dinner, we were all seated before he made his appearance, and as he passed to his
seat, which was always directly opposite to me, I cast
upon him an appealing look, which was answered by
an expressive bow, which quite assured me that he
would not refuse my request.
"Mr. L.," I said, "will you ask a blessing for
us?" With a most amusing smile, he fixed his eyes
steadily upon me, and replied,
" Thee will do it thyself, Harriet."
No levity marked the group that surrounded my
table, and no discomposure of spirit prevented me
from performing the duty thus suddenly imposed
upon me. God strengthened me for it, and I had no
foolish fears in attempting it.
In the evening I was again summoned to take up
the cross. As I was about to commend my family to
the care of our heavenly Father for the night, I was
interrupted by the entrance of several of my boarders;




THE FAMILY  ALTAR.                71
of course I did not suppose that duty required such a
sacrifice of feeling as would be involved in leading our
family devotions before such a household. The Bible
lay on the table beside me.  "Well, Mrs. C.," said a
young German, "who is to pray for us to-night?" I
was startled by the question: "I think, Mr. D.,"
was the agitated reply, "that we must do our own
praying."
" And why should not you do it for us?" said another, who was from  my own New England.  "I
never could see why the head of a family, if she is a
widow, should not take the lead in family worship;
I boarded," he continued, " for some time with a
widow lady who never omitted the duty, and her
boarders all respected her for her consistent Christian
conduct."
The approval of this course was unanimous, "and
now, Mrs. C.," persisted the German youth, "II do
not see but you must do our praying for us."
"I certainly can read the Bible," I said, with the
feeling that I could proceed no farther. I selected the
most devotional of the Psalms, and as I closed the
sacred volume, with a feeling that I could not-that
I dare not-resist, I kneeled in prayer in the midst
of these impenitent young men who had taught me
my duty, and,again was I strengthened and assisted
in the accomplishment of that which at first seemed
wholly impossible.
There are those who may be disposed to cavil and




72            AUTOBIO GRAPHY.
object to a female assuming such a responsibility; to
convince such of its propriety, I have only to wish
that a necessity as morally imperious may be laid
upon them.  The path of duty would be plain to them
then.
If our heavenly Father deprives our families of
their head and their guide, does He design to deprive
them of their religious privileges?-and what widowed
mother, deeply imbued with the spirit of her high obligations, can refuse to present her family to God for
His blessing?  Rather let her say with one of old,
"In the name of my God, will I set up my banner."
Thus saith the Lord, " Fear thou not for I am with
thee; I will strengthen thee, yea, I will help thee,
yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my
righteousness."
"Give to the winds thy fears;
Hope, and be undismayed;
God hears thy sighs and counts thy tears,
He shall lift up thy head."
After a trial of nearly three years, finding that if
I continued to seek a support from keeping boarders
I should only become more and more deeply involved
in debt, I resolved to change my plans of life. The
circumstances leading to this change were mortifying
and distressing. Here again was exhibited the evidence of a Father's care. I found that my expenses
exceeded my income. As my boarders were mostly




PROVIDENTIAL RELIEF.               73
northern men, they generally spent the summer months
at home, thus materially reducing my receipts while
the expense of house rent and servants' wages continued through the entire year. The cotton market
was not stationary, and unfortunately, in the autumn
of 1822, just as I was settled, as I supposed, in one of
the best locations in the city, I found on the return of
business men that I had entirely misjudged. The
market was removed to a distant point, and thither
went those who would otherwise have formed a part
of my family. Twelve boarders were all that were
left to me, and when at the expiration of the first
quarter the rent was demanded, I had not wherewith
to answer the demand. What was to be done?
Boarders were all located elsewhere. In what other
business could I engage? The prospect was appalling.
In the deep agony of my spirit I called upon the Lord,
"'when my heart is overwhelmed within me, lead me
to the rock that is higher than I. I cried unto the
Lord and He heard my prayer."
Though unwilling to make my situation known, as
I could not even seem to be soliciting relief, at the
earnest entreaties of a friend who had seen that my
spirit was burdened, I made known to her my circumstances.  She consulted her husband without my
knowledge, and immediately, as I afterwards learned,
a few kind friends met together and contributed an
offering for the widow and fatherless. After paying
the rent of a good house for a year, and providing me
4:




74           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
with many comforts they reserved the remainder for
a future supply.
My first intimation of their kindness was received
on the morning after taking possession of another
dwelling, which by the urgent advice of one of these
friends I had engaged,-though with many fears that
I would not be able to meet the rent-when a receipt
in full for a year's rent, which had been paid in advance, was placed in my hands by my landlord. I
burst into tears, and gave praise to God who still continued His mercy to His wayward child.
During the remainder of the winter I taught a
small school, and was thus enabled to furnish a scanty
support for myself and my children. On the marriage
of my mother, in the spring, I was urged to return to
my northern home, and the wish to educate my children in their fatherland led me seriously to consider
the practicability of such a removal. My eldest son
had been sent to Middlebury a year before, and was
preparing to enter college. My wish to return was
very great, but I had not the means of defraying my
expenses.  I had incurred heavy debts while endeavoring to support a boarding establishment, and there
seemed no probability that I should ever again see my
friends in the home of my youth.
I finally agreed to allow a test proposed by a few
friends, to decide the question. My furniture was
sold at auction, and a dividend was made of its proceeds among my creditors. By almost all of them, it




ARRIVAL IN  CHARLESTON.    75
was generously returned to me, so that abundant
means were thus supplied to defray the expenses of
my journey to the north, and I determined to depart.
In the month of May, 1823, I took passage for
Charleston, S. C., with my children and a small party
of friends, who were returning home.  That parting
hour lives in the memory of the past. Farewells
were exchanged with friends whom I expected to see
no more on earth, and I went forth full of demonstrations of their continued interest, deeply sensible of my
obligations to my heavenly Father, and more and
more impressed with the truth that:'here we have
no continuing city.": Pilgrim, is thy journey drear?
Are its lights extinct for ever?
Still suppress the rising fearGod forsakes the righteous-never
Storms may gather o'er thy path,
All the ties of life may sever;
Still amid the fearful scath,
God forsakes the righteous-never."
Our passage down the Savannah river was slow
and tedious, but early on Sabbath morning we anchored in the harbor of Charleston. Here the friends
of my departed brother soon surrounded and welcomed me. Three weeks were delightfully spent in
this interesting city, and here I found a band of
Christians, who, in their devotion to their Master's
cause and the hallowed influence of Christian affection,




76           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
fully answered my idea of the fellowship that existed
in the church in the days of its primitive simplicity.
I visited the grave of my beloved brother, whose
praise and whose memory were in the church, and in
the Sabbath schools of which he was a superintendent, and I formed many friendships among his friends,
that I trust will be perpetuated in eternity. With
much regret I parted from these interesting friends
and scenes, again to embark on my homeward voyage.




CHAPTER X.'
VOYAGE  TO. NEW  YORK.-THE  SABBATH.
"We need not go to open haunts of vice
To look for sin; the best of our frail race,
May find it shrined within the heart's recess,
Mingling with all his thoughts, his words and deeds.
Since man is sinful, sure we need
The Sabbath day to call us back to God;
By prayer and penitence to fit us,
To stand before Immanuel's throne."
A  CIRCUMSTANCE occurred in connection with this
voyage, which, as it is the second of the kind that has
come to my knowledge, I record for the encouragement of those who reverence the Sabbath. I had engaged and paid for my passage to New York, with the
understanding that the vessel would sail on the following Monday. Early on the morning of the Sabbath,
word came from the captain-himself professedly a
pious man,-that a favorable wind had sprung up,
and that all the passengers with the exception of our
party were on board, and we were urged to hasten our
departure. I decidedly refused compliance with the
request; referred to the agreement respecting the
time of sailing, and desired that if any change was
made my passage money should be returned. The
captain in great perplexity came to see me. He pleaded
his cause earnestly; the passengers were clamorous to




78           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
depart; a favorable wind promised a speedy passage;
a rival vessel, the "President," had hoisted her sails
and would reach the great city before them, and finally
he begged that I would be less scrupulous and depart
with him. I appealed to his religious principles, anid
to the command to "' keep the Sabbath," and asked,
" Why is it, Captain B., that more vessels go out
of port on the Lord's day than on any other?"
" Why,"' said he, with a smile, " it is a good day,
because there are more Christians praying for us on
this day."
" Those prayers," I replied, " are not offered for
the mariner's continuance in sin, but that he may repent and turn unto the Lord."
As I steadfastly refused compliance with his wishes,
he left me declaring that " he knew that I was a
Yankee, because I was so determined to have my own
way."~
While I was at the tea-table he again made his appearance.
" Now, Mrs. C., I have given you a whole day to
attend church, the President is on her way, out of
sight, and the passengers declare that they will be detained no longer.'
" Captain, I sincerely regret to be an annoyance to
you or your passengers, but with my present views
of duty I can not comply with your request."
" But some on board are so enraged that they are
actually swearing about you."




REMEMBER THE  SABBATH.               79
"That is an additional reason," I said, smiling,
"why I should fear to trust myself with them while
conscious of doing what I believe to be wrong. I
might meet the fate of the prophet of Nineveh. Now,
Captain, no persuasion that you can use will affect my
decision. If you feel that you must sail to-day, you
go without me and my friends, for they all approve
of this decision. If you choose to wait, you shall see
us with the early dawn on board your vessel."
"Well," said the Captain, with a long sigh, "I do
not intend to lose this company, so I will take up my
anchors and pretend that I am about to set sail, but
I shall only get my vessel out into the stream, and
wait till morning."
Many angry glances greeted us as we ascended the
vessel's side on the bright morning of Monday, but
the addition to our company of a clergyman and his
family, in consequence of the delay, quite restored the
Captain's good humor and we secured a pleasant party
of pious friends.
For six days no cloud obscured our sky; no unpleasant circumstance occurred to disturb our passage;
bright moonlight nights and a calm sea, gave us the
opportunity every evening, of collecting for the worship of God, and when Saturday night arrived we
retired to rest full of bright hopes of anchoring in the
habor of New York on the following morning, in
season to attend upon the worship of God in the sanctuary.  We were about entering the Narrows, and the




80           AUTO B IO G RA PH Y.
beautiful island of Manhattan was looming up in the
distance, when a violent gale drove us back to sea,
and our Sabbath proved a severely sick and turbulent
day. Early on Monday as with renewed hopes and
with joyful looks, we were again approaching the city,
the Captain summoned me on deck, and pointing to a
vessel in the distance that had just risen above the
horizon, exclaimed,
"There, Mrs. C., comes the President, still plodding her weary way along, while we are about to cast
anchor in the harbor."
"Now, Captain, what do you think of trusting
God, and obeying his commandments?"
"Ah," said he, "I see that it is the best way. I'll
remember this."
At this discovery, a shout went up from the passengers and crew for the triumph achieved over the tardy
vessel. We afterwards ascertained that contrary
winds, on the day of their departure from Charleston,
had driven them far to the south, and thus they were
disappointed in their expected victory over us.




CHAPTER XI.
VISIT TO MY EARLY HOME.
I miss the dear parental dwelling,
Which memory, still undimmed; recalls,
A thousand early stories telling,
I miss the venerable walls;
I miss the well-remembered faces,
The voices, forms of fresher days:
Time plows not up these deep drawn traces,
These lines, no ages can erase.
WE spent but one night in New York, and then
pursued our course towards my native state, to visit
my mother who had recently returned to her early
home. Language can not express my emotions, as I
approached the scenes of my childhood and youthscenes from which I had been exiled for more than
twenty years. The sad lament of Naomi was in my
heart: " I went out full but the Lord hath brought
me home empty. Call me Mara, for the Lord hath
dealt bitterly with me."
Change was written on all around me.  "I said of
the friends of my youth, where are they?"
"All scattered-all sundered, by mountain and wave,
And some, In the cold, silent womb of the grave,"
I looked for the pleasant grove where I had loved
to wander in school-day thoughtlessness, with com4*




82             A UT OB IO GRA PHY.
panions as full of glee as myself, and for the trees beneath whose venerable branches we had so often
united our carols with the sweet songsters, who nestled
unmolested in their leafy homes, and I hoped, even
though time might almost have effaced them, to find
some precious names inscribed on those trees, rendered
sacred by the associations of years passed away. The
grove " was not," for the axe of the woodman had not
spared a single tree.
"Not a token or trace could I view,
Of the names that I loved,-of the trees that I knew;
Like a tale that is told they had vanished away.
And I thought the lone river that murmured along,
Was more dull in its music, more sad in its song,Since the birds that had nestled and warbled above,
Had all fled from its banks, at the fall of the grove."
A few days after my arrival at my mother's, I was
taken violently ill with typhus fever, and for some
days no hope was entertained of my recovery. For
nearly three months I was confined to my room, much
of the time too delirious to be sensible of these apprehensions; but God in his merciful providence spared
me to my children, and to the work for which he had
been preparing me.
In September I returned to Middlebury, to a solitary home. Oh! how dark and desolate did every
thing appear to me as I entered the scene of former
joys and sorrows; how gloomy the prospect that
opened before me. Four years previous to this I had
left the place full of pleasant prospects, rejoicing in




HOME CHANGES.                 83
the expectation of being soon reunited to my husband;
but now I had laid him to rest and returned destitute,
with no earthly means of support but the labor of my
hands, dependent wholly on the promises of God. To
supply present necessities, I resorted once more to
keeping boarders, but the experience of one year, satisfied me that this was not my vocation, and I determined to abandon it.




CHAPTER XII.
TEACHING IN VERGENNES.
"Sow in the morn thy seed;
At eve hold not thy hand,
To doubt and fear, give thou no heed,
Broad-cast it o'er the land.
Thou know'st not which may thrive,
The late or early sown,
Grace keeps the precious germs alive
When and wherever strewn."
MY mind had become more and more impressed
with the belief, that it was my duty to teach, and as
circumstances all seemed to point to this as my future
employment, most willingly, though with much fear
and trembling, I assumed new responsibilities, and in
1825, commenced a school in the city of Vergennes.
Here I found many kind friends-and trials in abundance. For four years I toiled in the midst of cares,
and labors and sorrows of no trifling kind. My eldest
son, then a student in college, had been entered there
with the express assurance, that the expenses of his
education should be defrayed by a friend who had
voluntarily agreed to assume the responsibility, but by.
the removal of that friend from the post that he occupied, R. was cast upon me for support. This unexpected increase of expense continually weighed me
down, so that at times it seemed as though I must




DARK CLOUDS GATHERING.    85
sink under my difficulties. Anxiety lest his extreme
youth should expose him thoughtless as he was, to the
temptations that I knew surrounded him, added to my
distress, and without Divine support I could never
have sustained the burden. My health yielded to the
demands made upon my strength to such a degree,
that I passed day after day in such bodily anguish,
that death seemed the only relief. But my heavenly
Father did not forsake me-light was scattered in my
pathway.
Once when called upon for the payment of forty
dollars, for the board of my son, I had not even one
dollar to meet the demand, and the individual to whom
the sum was due, was like myself a widow dependent
on her own efforts for support. I had no earthly resource; I carried my burden to God and plead with
agonizing earnestness for a supply to meet the necessities of the present case. I do not think that the
idea of submission entered my mind. I felt that I
was pleading for the widow; that her wants must be
relieved, and that God was in a measure Fledged to
hear my cry.
As I rose uncomforted and sad, and sat pondering
upon my trials, rather suspecting that wrong feelings
had mingled with my prayer, I saw that I had been
dictating to my heavenly Father, instead of seeking
help as an unworthy suppliant. I was condemned at
my own tribunal, and again I implored not money,
but mercy at the throne of grace. I plead for sub



86           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
mission to the Divine will, and sought anew to cast all
my burdens on Him who had never forsaken me.
Peace of mind followed this renunciation of self, and I
returned to my children with a mind stayed on
God.
"Mamma," cried our youthful pet, as she came
bounding into the room in her usual joyous manner,
"' Mamma, here is a letter for you, a boy gave it to
me and then ran away,'tis a dirty looking thing
and I would not touch it."
It certainly was a " dirty looking thing." A sheet
of yellow foolscap paper, that might from its appearance have been exhumed from the ruins of antiquity,
contained these lines:
" Mrs C. —Enclosed you will find forty dollars
which is sent for the benefit of yourself and children.
Seek not to ascertain who is the donor, for you will
search in vain.                  A FRIEND."
As I removed from its soiled envelope, the sum that
would give relief, and enable me to meet a just demand, my soul bowed in gratitude and humiliation for
the aid imparted, and the lesson thus taught of the
dealings of God with his children. Long did I search
for the generous friend who had thus been employed
by the widows' God to extend relief in this time of
need; but to this day I am ignorant to whom under
Providence, I was indebted for the gift.
At the commencement of my new life, as the guide




MY WORK BEGUN.                   87
and instructor of youth, I solemnly consecrated myself to the work, resolving that while I would devote
my energies to the cultivation and discipline of mind,
a prominent object should be the education of conscience and the moral affections, and the formation of
such habits as should prepare for future usefulness.
In accordance with these resolutions, religious instruction and supplication for God's blessing on the labors
of the day, formed the first morning duty. Pupils
seemed interested in the simple and brief exposition
of the Bible and often evinced their interest by questions suggested to their minds while reading the Word
of God.
I had not pursued this course long, before I received
a visit from one of the trustees of the school. With
some degree of embarrassment and awkwardness he
said,
"He called to converse with me on the subject of
imparting religious instruction to the school. Some
persons, he found, objected to having the time which
should be occupied with the lessons thus employed.
Some were afraid of sectarian bigotry and influence."
He then hesitated as though seeking some more
weighty objections.
" Proceed, sir," I said,' say all that you wish on
this subject. Frankly state all your difficulties without any hesitancy."
Evidently afraid that I would consider him an opposer of religion, he very cautiously queried, " whether




88           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
it would not be for the best interest of the school, to
suspend for a while any remarks on the Bible and
confine the morning exercise to the reading of a few
verses, till the people had become better acquainted
with me and I had time to secure their confidence."
" Mr. H., when you invited me to take charge of
this school," I replied, " I presume that you understood what my character has been and what my
standing now is, in the church of Christ."
With somewhat heightened color he stammered out
that "he did not know, that he had not made any inquiry in regard to that matter."
" You certainly then neglected an important part
of your duty, in selecting a teacher for your children.
Allow me to ask you a few questions. I have no
doubt that you acknowledge God as the author of all
your mercies, "is it proper then to thank Him for
His goodness?"
"Certainly, certainly," was the ready response.
"We are daily dependent on this Benefactor, for
the mercies we need and the blessings we receive;How often should we return to Him thanks?"'Of course, each day," replied my censor.
"We are unworthy of these blessings and yet we
daily and hourly need them; should we not then, sir,
confess our unworthiness and supplicate for their continuance day by day?'
" Oh! yes, of course."
"As individuals and as families we ought to do
this; why not as a school?"




CAVIL J  CONFUTED.               89
"I can not see why we should not," was the reply,
after a moment's thought.
"When would be a suitable time to do this?"
"The morning seems to be the best time, but you
would yourself be the best judge as to the most convenient season."
"Just so. A few moments ago, Mr. H., you said
that the scriptures should be read in school; would
you think it proper to explain any thing difficult to
be understood-to give information respecting eastern
and ancient customs, &c., in order that a deeper interest in the Word of God may be excited?"' That is certainly important."
"Should not this be done when the Bible is
read?"
" Of course," was his reply.
"Now, Mr. H., you have conceded all I wish.
Liberty to read and explain the Scriptures and permission to praise God for his mercies, and to entreat
future blessings and guidance; and you have decided
that the first part of each day is the most suitable
portion of time for this duty. This is just what I
have done, just what I shall continue to do. I have
no sectarian bigotry-neither shall I impose my creed
or that of any denomination upon the minds of my
pupils; but I promise you to strive to be faithful to
the trust reposed in me, and to train your children
for usefulness and Heaven."
"Well, madam, I am satisfied to leave the decision
of this subject with you. Good morning."




CHAPTER XIII.
ATTENTION TO RELIGION.-OPPOSITION.
" Overwhelmed by many a care,
0 what course shall I pursue?
Now to Thee I lift my prayer,
Teach thy servant what to do.
Lord, in mercy, now appear,
Make the path of duty clear."
MANY and severe were the trials that clustered
around me during my residence in Vergennes. Every
attempt to excite an interest in the minds of my pupils,
on the great subject of the soul's salvation, was met
with decided opposition by a pleasure-loving group,
who were determined that nothing of a serious character should interrupt the hilarity of the season.
An incident in the experience of that winter will
illustrate my situation.  Among some of my pupils I
noticed a deeper feeling and more fixed attention to
religious instruction. The alarm was given and
speedily the watchword passed through the ranks of
the enemy; " thus far, but no farther."  A ball was
decided upon, as the most effectual means of driving
away serious thought. A morning or two previous to
the time fixed for the proposed amusement, while many
were expecting to hear me " come out in a severe
tirade against this terrible sin," I took my place as




OPPOSITION.                  91
usual at my desk, read a portion of Scripture and
made a few remarks upon the twelfth chapter of
Romans.  On the verse, " Be not conformed to this
world," I said, " it is sometimes difficult to satisfy
ourselves when we are in danger of too great conformity to the world. I will give you a test by which
you may always decide whether you are in the path
of duty. It is this, —never to engage in any employment or in any amusement, in pursuance of which
you dare not ask the blessing and the presence of
God " No allusion was made to the expected ball,
or to the efforts of the opposing party; the effect was
just what I wished.  But two or three from the school
attended the gay gathering and thus the design of its
projectors was frustrated.
Provoked at a discomfiture so unexpected they determined to persist in their opposition to the religious
influence that seemed to spread.  "Mrs. C.," said
they, " need not imagine she can control the young
people of Vergennes.  If she does not like a single
ball, we will give her a regular course for the season."
Then followed grave canvassings on the important
subject, and " committee meetings," and divers efforts
to accomplish their purposes but without success; the
affair ended with open expressions of animosity against
me as the cause of their failure, when my only cause
of offence in the matter was the giving of that simple
test to the school.
Several times I had been asked, if I disapproved




92           A lT O B I O R A PGRAPH Y.
entirely of worldly amusements; if I thought it wrong
to dance, but I answered all inquiries of this kind by
an appeal to my text.
In my journal for 1826, I find this experience recorded. "t How different have been my feelings since
this year. commenced from what they were for some
weeks previous. Then the darkness of midnight
brooded around me, wherever I turned my eyes I
found nothing to encourage me. Threatened with the
entire loss of health, I could only look forward to protracted illness, -a burden to my friends-my prospects
of usefulness as a teacher destroyed and my children
without protection and support. My very soul shrunk
from the trial, and like Jonah I gathered myself into
my own little world of selfishness and almost suffered
myself to cry out,'I do well to be angry.' But my
heavenly Father dealt not with me according to my
deserts; He pitied my sufferings; He listened to my
cries for help; He sent His spirit to show me the
depths of sin within, and He excited the tear of penitence and the supplication for forgiveness. He imparted peace to my soul-even that peace of which no
earthly trial can deprive us, and though afflicted with
unexpected and severe pecuniary troubles, and though
this clayey tenement oft threatened to drop into dissolution, and with difficulty I struggled through the
duties of each succeeding day, still He gave me such
a confidence that all these things would work for my
good-such a cheerful acquiescence in His holy will




CLOUDS DISPERSI N G.                   93
as almost made the trial sweet and turned the poison
into medicine.' Separated from my children, I find it sweet to
present them one by one, by name, and plead for God's
blessing upon them. He knows their various characters and their exposedness to dangers, and he can
do infinitely better for them than I can even desire.
He has said,' leave thy fatherless children and I will
preserve them and let thy widows trust in me,' and I
will cleave to this promise. I will continue to plead
it, until all my children are gathered into the family
of the Redeemer. It is sweet thus to commit them to
His care.
"Sweet on His faithfulness to rest,
Whose love can never end;
Sweet, on His covenant of grace,
For all things to depend.
Sweet in the confidence of faith,
To trust His firm decrees:
Sweet, to lie passive in His hand,
And know no will but His."
Weeks passed and an increasing interest in the subject of religion was manifest in the school. The tearful eye, the quivering lip, the anxious look, spoke
volumes to the teacher's heart. Inexperienced myself in the workings of the Holy Spirit on youthful
hearts, thus congregated together, I was afraid of myself.  Had this fear driven me to more entire dependence on my Saviour it had been well; but the " fightings without,"' alarmed me and so excited the "' fears
within," that all my efforts were neutralized.




94           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Another portion of my journal, which bears date a
few weeks later than the preceding extract, tells the
tale of my unbelief.
"This poor, beating heart, will soon cease its
struggles and this war of feeling cease. My heart
has been sadly torn by conflicting emotions. I retraced
the feelings and the experience of the winter; I
thought of the repeated instances in which I had earnestly asked direction of God and resolved to be willing,-His grace assisting me-to walk in the path
which He should point out, and of those seasons when
I thought my will was wholly resigned to the Lord's.
Were all these feelings delusive? I trust not wholly;
but I had calculated too much on the strength of religious feeling in my own heart, and the Lord showed
me that my strength is very weakness. I compared
my privations with those experienced by the early
missionaries. True, I am an isolated being, far fromthe friends that I love best; but I have many comforts denied to them-some dear and valued Christian
friends-religious privileges-and opportunities for
doing good; while those who go to heathen lands, are
called to surrender all the dear delights of social life
and refined society, the comforts of home and the commingling of the heart's best affections, and go forth to
expected danger and perhaps an early death. Then
I remembered my perverseness and was ashamed.
How mysterious have been the dealings of God with
me during the last twelve years, crosses and changes




RELIGIOUS  INTEREST.                95
have followed each other in quick succession;'waters
of a deep cup have been wrung out to me,' but my
God has not forgotten to be gracious, and He has
kindly led me thus far in safety. To Him be all the
praise."
The interest awakened in the school deepened.
Often the pupils were unable to recite their lessons.
Many in the town were distressed on account of their
sins; meetings for religious instruction were multiplied and Christians were looking with intense anxiety
to see the results of these efforts. Alas! it was soon
too evident that we were looking to the creature for
results, rather than in simple confidence to the Redeemer. And thus the enemy prevailed against us;
the deep solemnity passed away, and we were left to
mourn over our own fearfulness of opposition, and our
unbelief.
Relating to a clerical friend soon afterward the experience of this eventful period, his only reply was,
" Well, friends, I have but one thing to say to you;
according to your faith has it been unto you." What
a lesson of deep and thrilling import did I learn from
this first manifestation of the grace of God to my
school and of my own sinful distrust.




CHAPTER XIV,
REMOVAL TO MIDDLEBURY.
" Swiftly moving, upward, onward,
Let my soul in faith be borne;
Calmly gazing skyward, sunward,
Let my eye unshrinking turn;
Where the cross, God's love revealing,
Sets the fettered spirit free,
When it sheds its wondrous healing,
There, my soul, thy rest shall be."
SOON  after this another trial came.  Once and
again I had been solicited to transfer my residence to
Middlebury. This place had been for years the home
of my choice,-was the birthplace of my soul-the
spot where I had passed most of the years of my married life and where I should find, as I had no reason
to doubt, kind and sympathizing friends whose attachment had been often proved.
The first application had produced so favorable a
change in my pecuniary affairs at Vergennes, that
though my heart longed for the society of early friends
and shrunk with dread from a repetition of the trials
that had almost unfitted me for my work, I felt willing
to resign myself to the disposal of my heavenly Father. I certainly had no great cause for attachment
to the people generally. Good and noble ones I could
count as friends, but the many were too selfish, too




REMOVAL TO MIDDL EBURY.               97
groveling, to estimate the privileges of good literary
or religious institutions.  "He maketh haste to be
rich," seemed to be inscribed on every act; " who
will teach us the way?" was the great inquiry. On
this subject they were wide awake, ready to combine
the energies of mind and body for the accomplishnent of their object.
All things having been duly considered I determined to remain another year, but at the expiration
of that time the invitation which had previously been
extended to me to remove to Middlebury, was renewed. The prospects which such a change offered
were certainly tempting to the weary, harassed pilgrim.  Pecuniary embarrassments would be lessened;
a large circle of Christian friends stood ready to support me, and it seemed like returning to my own
home. Yet I must leave many to whom I had become
warmly attached, and dear pupils who still preserve
their places in my heart's, affections.  But now the
path of duty seemed plain and I accepted the proffered
situation.
Much opposition was made to this decision; urgent
intreaties and severe remarks followed, but I could say
"none of these things move me." I go at the bidding
of my Master, expecting to encounter responsibilities
and trials, but I go with the promise of my Father
graven on my heart, I" I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."  ": Let thy widows trust in me."
Very painful was the parting hour. Overcome by
4)




98           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the feeling manifested by many loved ones, I could
but exclaim, "what mean ye to weep and to break
my heart?"
With many cherished tokens of affection, I left
these beloved friends and pupils, and in December,
1829, commenced my school in Middlebury.  I was
accompanied only by my youngest child. My eldest
son had passed through his collegiate course and was
then engaged in teaching in a distant state. The
youngest was then connected with the college in
Middlebury. At the age of twelve he had been invited by a friend of my brother, to become a clerk in
a bookstore in Charleston, and there through the
faithful instructions of that friend he consecrated himself, at the age of fourteen, to his Redeemer. By the
aid of the friends of Christ in that city, he had been
enabled to prepare himself for college and had entered
the Institution where had graduated his father and
brother.  My eldest daughter, whose health required
a change, had been for more than three years with her
grand-parents in my native state, and there, in a season of deep religious interest, she had been received
into the fold of the great Shepherd.  Towards the
faithful pastor of the church which admitted her to its
communion, she ever expressed the warmest gratitude
and affection, and she often referred to him as a model
of Christian and pastoral fidelity.




CHAPTER XV.
REVIVAL  OF  1830.
"Till David touched his sacred lyre,
In silence lay the unbreathing wire;
But when he swept its chords along,
E'en angels stooped to hear the song.
So sleeps the soul, till thou, 0 Lord,
Shall deign to touch its lifeless chord;
Till waked by Thee, its breath shall rise
In music worthy of the skies."
THE winter of that year passed away pleasantly;
religious instruction was communicated to the pupils
daily, but no special seriousness was awakened until
towards the close of the term, when one individual
manifested deep anxiety respecting the salvation of
her soul. She resolved to remain in the family during the short vacation, that undisturbed by study or
new scenes, she might seek an interest in the Saviour.
With  much  anxiety I left her, to pass a week with
friends in Vergennes, but my heart was lifted continually in earnest supplication for the descent of God's
spirit on the members of the school that I had just
dismissed, and of that over which I had formerly presided in Vergennes.
I returned  to  Middlebury to find that the distress
of poor E. had greatly increased, and that she was
entirely unable to resume her studies. In view of her




100          AUTO B IO GRAPII Y.
great guilt in so long rejecting the Saviour, her soul
was agonized with the fear that there could be no hope
for her. I pointed her to the " Lamb of God, who
taketh away the sin of the world;" I read to her His
precious promises, "Him that cometh unto me I will
in no wise cast out."  " He that believeth on me hath
everlasting life."  " The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin," &c. Two days after this she cast
herself on the mercy of her Saviour and He spake
peace to her soul.
The effect on the school, was electrical, and with
trembling and in tears many inquired, " what do these
things mean?" It was evident that this and other circumstances were awakening an intense anxiety in the
minds of the pupils. There were at that time but four
professors of religion in the school, including two
teachers, but we commenced a prayer-meeting to be
observed on Saturday evenings by all who were disposed to attend.
The course adopted for religious instruction seemed
signally blessed.  God spake to the hearts of the
youth by His own word; often while repeating the
sacred Scriptures, were they so overcome as to be unable to proceed. A series of questions or subjects
were selected, and one was given out every day, for
each succeeding morning and the young ladies committed and repeated their answers from the Bible,
which were then explained and applied. The attributes of God were given: " If God is omnipotent and




THE FIRST  CONVERT.               101
omniscient, He must know the heart of man; what is
His testimony in regard to it?"
" What His sentence passed on such a character?"
"Is there no escape from this condemnation?"
"Is Christ able and willing to save all who trust in
His merits?"
" Is it your duty to make an immediate surrender
of yourself to His service?"
"' What is your determination respecting it?"
By the time that the questions had advanced thus far,
a deep solemnity prevailed throughout the Seminary.
My youngest daughter had spent her vacation with
worldly friends and had returned more trifling than I
had'ever known her. Evidently annoyed by the increasing seriousness exhibited in school, she avoided the
society of Christians, searched her music book for the
gayest airs and most trifling songs, and for a few days,
it seemed, as if she and her music teacher were resolved to close their hearts against the Holy Spirit.
A remark which I dropped concerning her and
which was repeated to her by a trifling companion,
first awakened her anxieties.  "If mother feels so
troubled about me ought I not to search my own heart
and see what is wrong there?" was the thought that
succeeded. She laid aside her books and studied only
her Bible, and for weeks no smile of peace beamed
from a face usually radiant with joyousness.
The solemnity of that morning when the answers to
the question, " what is your determination?" were to




102          AUTOBIOGRAPH Y.
be given, will never be forgotten by those who then
stood before God to make their decision for eternity.
One, who in the spirit of levity had boasted that she
had a verse to answer that question, when asked what
it was, replied,
" Go thy way for this time."
"You dare not repeat it," said her friend.' Listen, and see if I dare not,' was the boasting
response. This determination had been whispered to
me by a friend, and I was prepared to meet it. As she
arose from her seat to repeat the text that she had
selected, I fixed my eye upon her, deeply expressive
of the solemnity that filled my soul, and awaited her
decision. She hesitated, her lip quivered, the starting tear told the conflict that was passing within, she
sat down unable to utter a word and then the pent up
feelings of her soul burst forth in audible sobs.
The scene was perfectly overwhelming, and as with
the anxiety of a mother as well as of a, teacher, I followed one after another as they rose to express their
desires or their decision to live for God, no pen can
describe my feelings, and when my child with streaming eyes and with an agitation almost convulsive,
spoke forth her resolution, " I will arise and go to my
Father and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned
against heaven and before thee," my emotions were
irrepressible. Her whole appearance bespoke her sincerity, and her evident distress produced a great effect
on her companions. I could not add one remark; I




RELIGIOUS INTEREST.               103
could only offer a broken petition to our Father for
His blessing.
The attention of the pupils to this absorbing subject now became general, and nothing but strength
from God imparted at that time saved me from sinking under the weight of responsibility and the burden
of my labors. From the dawn. of day till the midnight hour, did these dear young friends crowd to my
room, to receive instruction and to entreat that prayer
might be offered for them. The distress of my own
child deepened: at times she seemed almost in despair.  Eternity opened upon her mind with new light
and force and viewing herself as a condemned sinner,
she could not believe that mercy could be extended to
one who had- so long resisted the warnings of an enlightened conscience, and the love of God manifested
through his son.
In the study of the Bible she sought for that peace
which cometh not to tiose who trust only in the means
of grace, for salvation. Driven from this stronghold,
she turned to the prayers of Christian friends, and
for a time there placed her confidence.  Sleep departed from her and the expression of her countenance, was a faithful index to the anguish of her
spirit.  In vain did I point her to the " Lamb of God,"'
whose " blood cleanseth from all sin;" in vain assure
her, that it was the unbelief of her heart, that deprived her of the peace which she so earnestly sought.
The proud heart, the unbelieving spirit, yielded not.




104          AUTO B IO G RA P H Y.
Finding that I could say nothing to induce her to
venture on the promises of God, I hazarded an experiment, with much fear and with many prayers. At
the close of a week in which my apprehensions concerning her had been greatly excited, after urging
upon her the freeness and the fullness of Christ's salvation, I said, "Well, Maria, I see that no motive,
nor persuasion from the Word of God, has had power
to move you to a decision. The spirit and the bride
say come, but you heed not the gracious invitation.
My children must not live in vain; God has done too
much for us to suffer this.  He demands the consecration of our souls and bodies to His service. If you
will not give the affections of your heart to Him, you
must give your life and improve your talents for His
service. You must resume your studies on Monday,
and endeavor to prepare yourself to aid me in doing
good." She cast a wild imploring look upon me and
without a word closed her Bible, laid her head upon it
and wept aloud.
On the evening of the succeeding Sabbath, my
spirits and strength were exhausted by intense anxiety for many, smitten to the soul on account of their
alienation from God, and for this child of prayer who
was still bowed down in distress.  I commended them
to the mercy of their Redeemer and sought rest upon
my bed; but could I sleep quietly while the agitated
footsteps over my head gave sure tokens of the distress of one who thus at the midnight hour held con



RIELIGIOUS INTEREST.               105
verse with her own soul, and while the imploring cry
for mercy from my own dear child reached me from
an adjoining room, as she sent up her petitions in the
stillness of the night?
"Mother, do pray for me," was again and again
repeated, during that season of anguish. At last in
agony of spirit she came once more:
"Mother," she said, with awful solemnity, "if
there is mercy in heaven or on earth, pray for me,
that I be not lost forever."  After uniting with her
again in prayer and listening to her heart-broken
cries for mercy, I persuaded her to retire and seek
rest and strength for the coming day.
On the evening of Monday, she with several others
was visited by our pastor, and she often recurred to
that conversation as the time when she first fully resolved to accept the offers of salvation and to consecrate herself to the service of her Redeemer.  The
affectionate interest manifested by her pastor for her
spiritual welfare and the remarks he made, encouraged her to hope that her heavenly Father might extend mercy to her, and as soon as she was alone she
gave herself to God in an everlasting covenant, trusting only to the merits of her Saviour for acceptance.
She now saw that a proud heart and an unsubdued
will, had held her thus long in slavery; that while her
almighty Friend had been inviting her by the still
small voice of the spirit, speaking by his word, to look
unto Christ and be saved, she had presumptuously




106          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
marked out her own way of salvation and virtually
taxed the Almighty with injustice, because in the way
of disobedience she found no peace or comfort.
Our music teacher, a young lady much devoted to
the world, had been for some time disturbed by the
appearance of the school.  She felt that it was evidently the work of the Iloly Spirit, but her heart
loved not the things of the spirit and she strove against
the convictions which agitated her mind. She determined that if others would be so foolish as to be influenced by the solemn considerations pressed upon the
conscience, she would not relinquish the pleasures of
the world for the gloom of religion.  It was very apparent that there was a great conflict in her mind.
She knew her duty but she had no heart to perform
it. Contrary to the advice of friends and the monitions of conscience, she attended a scene of amusement well calculated to divert her mind from every
serious thought, but this device of the adversary only
proved the means of deeper impressions.  Every day,
during the succeeding week, God spoke to her heart
by the faithful efforts of Christian friends. A letter
from a beloved sister, who had heard of the interest
excited in the school and whose prayers had long
ascended in her behalf, came home with powerful
effect to her soul.  Feeling that by her folly and
levity, this determined opposer was seeking to undermine all my efforts for the spiritual welfare of my
pupils, I also addressed a letter to her which alarmed




A TEACHER  CONVERTED.              107
her; and with no common interest and fervency did
the prayers of Christian friends petition the throne of
grace in behalf of the careless worldling. The Spirit
of God visited her soul, and on the succeeding Sabbath, the preaching of the word so powerfully affected
her, that the proud heart was humbled and she wept
aloud. Two days passed in agony of spirit, and while
bowed down in the dust at her Saviour's cross, He
cast a look of compassion upon her and gave her peace
in believing.
Her first anxiety when relieved from the distress
that filled her soul, was for the conversion of those
who had been influenced by her example. She spoke
to them of the preciousness of her Saviour, and urged
them to commence with her a life of devotion to God.
It was interesting to see those who had so recently
trifled together, now bending with one heart and one
spirit in supplication to their Redeemer; to hear their
voices unite in ascription of praise to God, who had
put a new song into their mouths.




CHAPTER XVI.
REVIVAL CONTINUED.-HEART SEARCHINGS.'Earnest, without delay, thy Maker's face
Seek, and the riches of his promised grace
Go ask in prayer: O never yet in vain,
Was bent the knee, His favor to obtain."
THE exercises of one day-the day succeeding that
in which my own beloved child and Miss A. had dedicated themselves to God,-comes up with ever living
interest to my mind. As I entered the school-room
in the morning, the solemnity of eternity rested upon
our souls. Every heart was full and every eye testi —
fied that God was there.  I called the classes to recitation, for I considered it important that there should
be no suspension of regular studies. As one after another rose to answer the questions put by their teachers, the falling tear and the troubled countenance,
too plainly showed their inability to give attention to
their lessons. As these nominal recitations passed
on, I was continually requested by the young ladies,
to permit them to retire to the private apartments
of the dwelling, for prayer with Christian friends,
for each convert had become a missionary in the
school.
After closing the morning exercises as best I could,




REVIVAL  CONTINUES.              109
I retired to my chamber to rest and pray; but
scarcely had I entered it ere Miss B., a teacher who
had aided me much in this great work, came to beg
me to visit a room where, she said, for nearly two
hours a little company had been praying with seven
impenitent friends and they felt that they could not
desist, until God had heard and answered their petitions. I entered the room and there they still kneeled,
pleading for their companions. Language can not
convey an adequate idea of the solemnity of the scene
which presented itself to me. Again and again, the
the voice of prayer ascended, succeeded by a pause
like the stillness of the grave, while heart met heart
in its silent aspiration for mercy on the sinner; and
still none could rise from her deep prostration.
After again commending them to the grace of God
and pointing them to Christ, who only can remove the
burden of sin, each of the little anxious group was
sent to commune in solitude, with her Bible and her
God.  None of them were boarders in the Seminary,
but they had come to school that morning, with the
determination not to leave the house till they had submitted to Jesus; and before the week closed, all those
dear ones were rejoicing in God their Saviour, and returned to their homes to I" tell their friends how great
things the Lord had done"' for their souls.
In the afternoon of the day to which I have just
alluded, as I stepped from my room to enter the study
hall, I could hear the voice of prayer from almost




110           AUTOBIOGRAPHIY.
every apartment. I entered the school-room and of
fifty or sixty pupils usually assembled there, only
eight or ten occupied their seats. There they sat still
and solemn, and yet ashamed to join their companions.
As I took my seat I said,
" How solemn is this place; this is none other than
the house of God."
Every head was bowed and the countenances of all
showed that their hearts responded to the remark.  I
followed it with a few observations and the feeling
which had hitherto been restrained by pride now burst
forth. It was no time for study,-a higher, holier
influence pervaded the minds of all. I felt that the
present moment might decide their destiny for
eternity.
" If," said I, " any here feel that they cannot attend to their studies and wish to seek their companions, where they are lifting up their hearts in supplication to the Father of mercies, they are permitted to
leave the room."
In a moment all had retired and it might truly be
said, that there was scarcely a room in the dwelling,
where the voice of prayer could not be heard.
At four o'clock our pastor visited the school at my
request, and the marked expression of solemnity and
grief depicted on the faces of the pupils as they entered the room, arm in arm, told more forcibly than
language the deep distress and conflict within. Doctor
Merrill could not repress the emotions of his soul; the




STUDIES RESUMED.                  111
strong man wept and it was some moments before he
could so control the agitated feelings of his heart, as
to be able to address his youthful congregation.
In the evening, as had been the case for some time
previous, the house was thronged with pupils and their
friends, who came to converse on the subject most interesting to them and to unite in prayer in their behalf. Our little prayer-meeting, which originally
consisted of four, increased to a great number of worshipers, so that often two or three rooms could not
contain all who crowded to the place of meeting. It
was the remark of one who spent a night in the Seminary at the time, when asked, if he had rested well,
"I  did not sleep at all for there was scarcely an
hour of the night that I could not hear the voice of
prayer in some room near me."
On Saturday morning the classes were again called
together for recitation, and again was it evident that
they felt too deeply the injunction of their Saviour,
"seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness," to attend to their studies.  A class had been
previously directed to select the first reading lesson
in Porter's Analysis, as an exercise in parsing.  On
opening the book, teacher and pupils were struck by
the appropriateness of the words to their present condition and feelings.
"What sinners value, I resign,
Lord,'tis enough that thou art mine,"




112          A U T O B I O G RA P HY.
" We will look at the nmeaning of these words," I
said. All felt their import too deeply to attend to
their grammatical construction.  " What shall we do
to be saved?" was the great inquiry, and this just then
was too absorbing a subject to permit attention, even
to intellectual improvement.
Though anxious for the salvation of the souls of
my pupils, I felt it to be very important that the
studies of the school should not be interrupted. This
discipline was necessary to prevent the mind from
exhausting itself by its own emotions. It would help
to counteract the tendency to substitute the mere impulses and sympathies of nature, for the sober decisions of judgment and the exercise of holy affections
and principles. They were accordingly resumed on
Monday, after an interruption of four days, and were
not again suspended. The revival continued throughout the term and was characterized by deep solemnity
and stillness. Day after day I trust, there was joy
in heaven, over souls renewed and pardoned.
O what a time to feel the impotency of all our
efforts without help from God,-and the necessity of
His grace to give efficacy to the means employed.
Never did I so sensibly feel that it was not by " might
or by power, but by the spirit of the living God,"
that this work was effected. It was a precious sea-.son of refreshing to my own soul; but such views as
I had of the utter worthlessness of my own works, the
awful neglect of duty, the sinfulness of my own heart




CLOSE OF THE SESSION.              113
pressed upon me with a weight, that but for the gracious displays of Divine love through a Mediator, I
could not have endured it. But unworthy as was the
instrument, God mercifully blessed the means employed; and during that interesting season about
thirty, it was hoped, became the followers of Jesus
and publicly consecrated themselves to His service.




CHAPTER XVII,
INTERESTING  CASES.-A  SISTER'S INFLUENCE.
" Take up your cross and say farewell;
Go forth without the camp to Him
Who left, heaven's throne, with men to dwell;
Who died, His murderers to redeem:
0 tell his name in every ear;Doubt not,-the dead themselves will hear."
MANY of the cases that occurred during this revival were very striking. A young lady in P. was just
preparing herself to attend school in Montreal, when
her parents heard of the revival in the Seminary. They
had devoted their children to God in baptism and felt
a desire that this child of prayer, might be placed in
a situation favorable for religious improvement. Like
many thoughtless ones her heart was too much attached to the world to desire such a privilege and she
came to us with evident reluctance.  She told me,
however, very frankly what were the motives of her
parents in sending her to Middlebury.  We have reason to believe that these parents, while they used the
means offered the prayer of faith. Every word of instruction seemed to produce effect. The young lady
became deeply impressed in view of her guilt and. danger, and in one week from the time that she entered




A SISTER'S INFLUENCE.              115
the school, she indulged a trembling hope of acceptance through a Mediator.
One of the little company like the woman of Samaria, full of the love of Jesus, called her brother to
her room and urged him to commence with her a life
of faith and holiness. Supremely devoted to the
world-thoughtless of the hereafter to which he was
hastening, and remembering that a few days previous
his sister seemed as careless as himself, he could not
understand the great change that had passed upon
her. He sought an interview with a pious friend
whom he loved and respected, and with much agitation asked him, what these things meant?-were they
growing mad at the Seminary? Had his sister become
a fanatic?  With the simplicity of a child of God, did
this faithful friend unfold the great plan of redemption-of its perfect adaptation to the necessities of
man as a sinner dependent on the mercy of God,
and exposed to eternal punishment; and urged him to
obey the heavenly call and trust in the Redeemer
alone for salvation. The word was blessed and the
man of the world became afterward a preacher of the
gospel to perishing sinners. Who can estimate the
extent and value of a sister's influence?
Another child of prayer and of early consecration,
was sent from parents who earnestly coveted the' best
gifts" for her and the same results followed. One
who was among the earliest of the convert band, afterwards entered on a life of missionary labor in Persia,




116             AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
where she fully justified the high hopes that her
friends entertained of her entire consecration to the
cause of her blessed Master.  She went forth to her
work as one who had fully counted the cost-who understood the sacrifices she was about to make, and
who cheerfully laid friends, home and native land,the enjoyments of refined society and religious privileges-all at the foot of the cross, as an offering to
her Saviour who gave Himself a sacrifice for sin.
In view of this visit of mercy to the school we were
all led to exclaim, " What hath God wrought?" " Not
unto us, 0 Lord, not unto us, but to thy name be all
the glory."
"Glory to God on high
Let earth and heaven reply,
Praise ye His name.
Angels His love adore,
Who all our sorrows bore,
And saints sing ever more,
Worthy the Lamb!
Ye who surround the throne,
Cheerfully join in one,
Praising His name.
Ye who have felt His blood
Sealing your peace with God,
Sound his dear name abroad,
Worthy the Lamb I




CHAPTER XVIII.
REVIVAL OF 1831.-CONVERSION  OF R. S.
"I was a wandering sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd's voice,
I would not be controlled.
I was a wayward child;
I once preferred to roam;
But now I love my Father's voice,I love, I love His home!
IN the spring of 1831, in consequence of encouraging appearances in the town, a series of meetings
were appointed, and again my school shared largely
in the blessing and my heavenly Father again brought
salvation to my own home.
My eldest born, —the son whom in early life I had
dedicated to God, hoping that he would become a
minister of the gospel-perhaps, a missionary of the
cross-was still living "without hope and without
God in the world."  Often had my soul been agonized on his account, and day and night had I presented his case before the mercy-seat. Five years before, while he was in college and I in Vergennes, a
revival of religion in the Institution of which he was
a member, in some measure affected his mind.  0
what days of distressing anxiety did I then pass
through. I went to Middlebury a few days previous




118           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
to the annual fast in April, and then sought to interest Christian friends to plead for him before the throne
of grace. Well do I remember the morning of that
day of fasting and agonizing prayer. I had written
to several Christian friends to unite with me in my
secret supplications, at the ringing of the first bell for
service; and to the pious members of the class with
which he was connected in college, I wrote, " If you
can exercise faith for one who has sinned against great
light, join a widowed mother in her supplicaitons this
morning, for this son of prayer and object of agonizing solicitude." The request was not unheeded. They
plead for the thoughtless one, and as I was afterwards
informed, they carried God's own promise to his
throne, " Leave thy fatherless children and I will
preserve them, and let thy widows trust in me."
So overpowering were my feelings as the hour for
the concert approached, that I could scarcely walk or
stand, and when the bell struck the first note for the
hour of prayer, I sank on my knees' in utter helplessness and wretchedness. From the depth of my distress, I cried unto God-unto him who had heard my
supplications in other days. All day did my prayer
ascend for this impenitent child, and the night still
found me pleading for his soul. So intense was my
anxiety, that a beloved sister now a saint in heaven,
said to me, " sister, you are wrong in indulging this
excessive and continual agitation of feeling,-it is
affecting your health. I would say to you as a friend




A MOTHER' S PRA Y EiRS.            119
did to Monica, the mother of Augustine,' It is not
possible that the child of so many tears and prayers
should perish.' 
But the harvest passed by and he was not saved.
Often since has the inquiry arisen in my mind, why
were not these prayers heard? They were earnestthey were continued- they were made in the full belief that God was able to fulfill His own promises.
The subject was perfectly absorbing. This one idea -
the salvation of that child's soul, filled all my thoughts
and was the burden of every prayer. In after times,
when God graciously answered my petitions, I was
able to see why the answer was then withheld.  My
prayers were seJfish.  I could not bear to be disappointed in the expectation in which I had indulged,
that in their earliest years my children should all be
the followers of the Saviour. This was mny son; I had
said much respecting my belief in the covenant, and I
felt in some measure pledged to show in the early conversion of my children, what that covenant had done
for me.  I could afterwards plainly see that my distress partook more of the nature of self-inflicted torture, than of an humble submissive spirit, desirous
only of the glory of God.  I felt with Israel of old,
" I can not let Thee go, except thou bless me;" but
I said it with a fretful, impatient spirit, that could not
be denied.
Time passed on and the thoughtless child continued
unmindful of his great obligations to his Redeemer,




120          A UTO B O G R APHY.
nor did a sudden and severe illness, that threatened
speedily to summon him into the presence of his rejected Saviour, serve to lead his thoughts to his own
danger or to God. When five years later, the protracted meeting to which I have alluded, commenced
in Middlebury-knowing that a vacation in the Institution with which R. was connected, would give him
an opportunity to journey —my prayer to my heavenly Father was earnestly raised, that his steps
might be directed to the home of his youth, and that
this might be the time of mercy to his soul. He was
the subject of prayer in the family circle and in the
social prayer-meeting.
My situation at this time was one of no common
anxiety and trial. A deep solemnity pervaded the
minds of my pupils.  Some were in great distress and
one, R. S., gave me no rest day or night. Orphaned
in early life, with an extreme degree of sensitiveness
and refinement of feeling, she had been cast upon the
world. with but one near relative who could sympathize with her in her youthful trials, and that one
younger than herself. Disappointed in her expectation of deriving happiness from the world, she shrank
into herself and became the subject of morbid sensibility. Henceforth, she determined to give her whole
attention to the cultivation of her mind, and to seek
within herself her resources for happiness.
When she looked around, upon her first entrance
into the Seminary, and observed the interest evinced




THE  ORPHAN.                121
by many in the great subject of their soul's salvation,
folding her arms and erecting her tall figure, in the
pride of her heart, she exclaimed,
"Mrs. C. need not expect to make a Christian of
me, I came here for intellectual improvement alone;"
and then she sat erect in her seat, when religious instruction was imparted, speaking with her piercing
eye, a meaning not to be misunderstood, "talk onyou can not move me. "
But One greater than her teacher did speak effectually to her soul, and the rebellious heart was humbled. She sought my room, my counsel and my
prayers. Very deep were her convictions of sin; very
unwilling was she to submit to the simple requisitions
of the gospel. Yet while her whole soul rose against
the plan of salvation, she thought that she desired an
interest in her Saviour, above all other things. Accustomed always to " write bitter things" against herself, it was sometime after her Christian friends had
hope for her that she indulged hope for herself. She
was " too vile to indulge such a hope." I pointed to
the Saviour's own words, " I am not come to call the
righteous, but sinners to repentance." But she did
"not feel this vileness, sufficiently."
" Show me the passage," I replied, "where Christ
has told the sinner the degree of conviction that he
must have, before he may apply to Him. If you are
convinced that you have forfeited all claim to His
mercy by your disobedience and rejection of His sal6




122          AUTO-BIOGRAP HY.
vation, that is all that he requires. You may fearlessly apply to Him, to cleanse your soul from all
pollution."
Sometimes it would seem as though she were just
stepping into the healing pool, and then retreating in
fearful agony, she would fly to me for direction and
prayer. But the God of the orphan did not forsake
her. She did at last cast herself, in all her helplessness and woe, upon His mercy, and the hope of sins
forgiven, sent rays of comfort through her soul.
I often recall a little incident of her after life, with
much interest. Her mother, whose memory she cherished with deep and sacred affection, while on her dying bed, called her to her side, and taking a string of
gold beads, which were then much in use and which
she had worn for many years, fastened them on the
neck of her child as her last gift. Treasured near her
heart, though unseen by human eye, they kept their
place for years. After her consecration to God's service, she told me, that if Jesus would accept of such
an unworthy laborer, she wished to devote herself to
missionary work, and to prepare herself for usefulness "somewhere in this wide world."  She remained
some time in the Seminary as a pupil and afterwards
as a teacher. As we sat side by side one day, in a
missionary convention, where the claims of a dying
world were urged upon us, I saw her loosen something
that seemed suspended from her neck, and gathering
the string of beads that had so often spoken to her of




A DAUGHTER'S OFFERING.    128
a mother's love, carefully wrap them in a paper on
which she wrote with a pencil these words, that I did
not hesitate to read as she sat beside me:
" The last gift of affection, from a dying mother to
her orphan child —now consecrated to God's service."
She was overcome by the effort and our tears
flowed together.
A few years afterwards this beloved friend might
be seen toiling beneath the scorching sun of India,
with a holy band who had gone forth to their labor of
love as pioneers in the great missionary work. Faithfully did R. perform her vow of consecration, until
her work was accomplished, and her beloved Redeemer
gave to her the welcome summons, I" Come up hither."
" Enter into thy rest." Her ashes repose far from
her natal soil; but her spirit rejoices in God her
Saviour.




CHAPTER XIX.
REVIVAL CONTINUED.-R. S CONVERSION.
"Say dost thou mark that beaming eye?
That countenance serene?
The smile of hope and love and joy,
Where gloom so late has been?
5More beautiful, that sight appears,
Than all the charms that nature wears."
AT the commencement of the revival, to which
reference has been made, my eldest daughter and
three pupils were all very ill with typhus and remittent fevers.  Anxiety on their account,-the care
that I was necessarily compelled to bestow on them,
and my great solicitude that this day of grace, might
-prove to the pupils the day of salvation, joined to my
anxiety respecting my son, would have proved too
heavy a burden, had I trusted only to human
strength.
On the Sabbath morning previous to the protracted meeting, I requested prayers for my impenitent son, that his steps might be directed to Middlebury at this juncture and that he might be brought to
repentance. The Spirit of God aided us, and we all
felt that we were near the mercy-seat. As I rose to
leave the room at the close of the exercises, one much
loved, who has since gone home to her Father in hea



THE  PRAYER-MEETING.              125
ven, took my hand and said, " Be of good courage
such prayers will be answered; your son will be made
whole."
The religious exercises commenced on Tuesday,
and continued with increasing interest for three days.
Some there were who inveighed loudly against' such a waste of timne;" —" the Sabbath was given
for religious instruction and that was sufficient for all
such purposes." These remarks reached the ears of
our pastor and he replied to them  by reading the
thirtieth chapter of the second book of Chronicles,
front the twenty-second to the twenty-seventh verse.
Such was the state of feeling in the Seminary, and
such the anxiety to attend, that I dismissed the school
during the public exercises and many of my pupils at
that interesting season, gave their hearts to God.
Dear Maria when not occupied in nursing her
sister, was constantly employed in efforts to lead her
young friends to her Saviour. Her drawers were
filled with notes, written in reply to her earnest entreaties to forsake all for Christ, and she labored not
in vain. One memorable evening when I had invited
our pastor to attend a meeting in the Seminary, the
dining room was filled, and so intensely solemn were
the minds of all and so deep the feelings of distress
exhibited by many, that Doctor M. proposed after the
services had continued for a while, to separate the assembly. He requested those who had no hope in the
Saviour, to retire to the parlor, where he and a Chris



126          A U T O B I O GR A PHY.
tian friend would meet them, while those who could
pray should unite in one or two rooms for that
purpose.
It was an affecting sight to witness the separation
of that little company.  Before they parted they sang
the eighty-third of the Village Hymns, and the suppressed sob and streaming tears, testified to the effect
produced.  They passed silently and sorrowfully to
the appointed place,-we retired to pray for a blessing on their souls.  The prayer of agonizing faith
was offered; —we expected and we received a blessing.
During a momentary pause, the door opened and
Mr. G. entered to say, that two of that little company had chosen Christ for their Saviour.  " Do not
cease to pray." 0 with what renewed animation did
the supplications of that little band ascend. Another
soul bowed in submission to Jesus and gave her heart
to him. The voice of praise and thanksgiving went
up from that dwelling that night. Every one felt
that God was there, of a truth.  When the minister
had departed, I entered the room-to me a holy
place-where souls had been born to God, and there
sat one convulsed with distress, who a few days before
could not be made to feel. She was one of the best
and the dearest in the school-a fine scholar and so
amiable and exemplary in all her deportment, that I
feared she would be wrecked on the quicksands of
morality. But here she was writhing under a sense
of the plague of a wicked and proud heart.  I urged




DECISION.                   127
her to retire to her room, and I would follow her
there; "never," she replied, with her accustomed
decision, " I vwill never leave this room, Mrs. C., till
I have submitted to God."
I was startled by the determined tone and look
that accompanied this resolution. "Why then, Helen,"
said I, "do you not now submit your heart and rebellious will to the Saviour?"' I have tried, but it won't yield; but it shall
yield, and this pride shall be subdued."
I told her that all her efforts would be powerless to
effect this great work, without the influence of God's
Holy Spirit. She must look to Him to accomplish it
and to lead her to the Lamb, whose blood cleanseth
from all sin; she must believe His promises and trust
wholly in Him for salvation. I prayed with her and
left her with her Bible to the mercy of God.
Again at the midnight hour I sought the solitary
suppliant:' Helen," I said, "are you still rebellious against your God?  Has not your proud heart
yielded to His claims?"
"No, Mrs. C., but it shall yield, I will never
leave this room till I love God.'"
Early and faithfully instructed by pious parents,
she was well aware of the requisitions of the gospel,
and of her obligations to Him who had sacrificed His
life for her. Again we prayed together, and exhausted by labor, anxiety and excitement, I retired to
bed, yet I could not sleep.




128          AUTOBI OGR APHY.
At two o'clock a gentle tap at my door, announced
to me a welcome visitant. She entered and throwing
her arms around my neck, she exclaimed,
" 0, Mrs. C., I believe God has forgiven my sins;
I do believe that I have given myself to the Saviour
forever. "
From that hour Helen B. became a decided Christian, and she has since been eminently useful as a
teacher of youth.
On Tuesday of the week following the series of
meetings, R. arrived.  A short time previous to the
closing of the term in the Institution with which he
was connected, much religious interest had manifested
itself among the pupils, and he bad been so much
affected by it, as to feel very uncomfortable under its
influence and to desire to be. beyond its reach. As
soon, therefore, as the close of the term released him
from his duties, he departed for New York with no
other design than to drive away the serious thoughts
that oppressed him. There he found no relief; a feeling of anxiety scarcely amounting to conviction for
sin, rendered him restless and unhappy. No change
of place or scene seemed to restore his peace of mind,
and he therefore suddenly resolved, contrary to his
previous intentions, to visit the scenes of his boyhood
and youth.
As he drew near to Middlebury a casual conversation in the stage coach, first revealed to him the fact
that a revival of religion was in progress in the Sem



R. IN MIDDLEBURY.                129
inary.  His first impression was to take the return
stage, and hasten back to New York without even letting
his mother know that he had been so near to her, but
sober second thoughts led him immediately to abandon
such a purpose, though he determined to manifest as
much indifference as possible to the subject that even
then engrossed his thoughts.
His arrival, though so unexpected, did not cause in
our minds much surprise; the supplications that had
been offered for the attainment of this very object
had prepared us for it.  Yet so affected was his sister
Maria at meeting him, that she could only give him
a kiss of welcome, and, bursting into tears, leave the
room.
"What is the matter with Maria?" said her
brother. I looked steadily at him and replied,'"R.
this visit is in answer to prayer, and so earnestly has
your sister pleaded for your conversion that her heart
is full, and can not repress its emotions. We hope
that you have been directed here to become a Christian." Such a greeting as this effectually repressed
every manifestation of indifference, and deepened the
impressions that had already been made upon his
mind.
We had one or two meetings every day of that
week, all of which he attended, but as yet I perceived
no deep anxiety on account of sin, though he was serious and attentive.  Friday was observed  as a
church fast, and there were religious exercises
6*




130          AUTO B I O   A P H Y.
throughout the day. I felt that the time was now
come that would decide his future destiny. I wish I
could describe my feelings in prayer at this season,
but language is inadequate.  It was all God's work
to show.me the difference between prayer that saves
the soul, and selfish supplications. God's glory was
the great object constantly and distinctly before my
mind. I believed that his glory would be promoted
by the conversion of one who had so long refused
subjection to the yoke of Christ, and therefore I laid
hold of the covenant. Here I had a strong hold. I
had God's promise to be, not only ~my God, but the
God of my children.  I felt that I did trust His
promise, and that his faithfulness would not fail. All
that day I was looking for its fulfillment; I knew it
would come, and I watched in silence.
At the close of the afternoon service R. and I
walked home together; not a word was spoken-my
heart was too full for utterance. I retired to pour
out its yearnings at the throne of grace. When I
descended to the parlor R. was not there; with anxiety that could not be repressed, I followed him to the
Music room, whither he had repaired with Miss A.
and his brother. Such were my feelings at the
moment, as I leaned unobserved against the door,
that I could scarcely withhold the bitter cry, " depart
hence," but a blessed Comforter whispered to my soul,
"trust him with Jesus."
T returned to my chamber, calmly resigning all my




A MOTHER' S EMOTIONS.               131
interests into His hands "who careth for us." When
we collected for family worship, as was our wont directly after tea, I requested that the second part of
the 119th Psalm might be sung. How did my heart
respond to every line of that beautiful song:
"My spirit faints to see thy grace,
Thy promise bears me up;
And while salvation long delays,
Thy Word supports my hope."
The younger members of the family attended a
meeting that evening designed expressly for youth,
and as R. lodged at his uncle's, I saw him no more
that night. In the morning he came not as usual,
but about eleven o'clock I was called to my room,
where I found him walking the room in considerable
agitation.  He handed me a note from our pastor,
whom he had just visited. It contained these words:
" My dear sister, have you faith to hope that the
last unconverted member of your family is now one
of God's dear children? I believe it is even so. I
have had a long conversation with R., and I trust
he has made an entire surrender of himself to God's
service. "
I could read no further before I bowed with the
returning prodigal before our heavenly Father, to
thank him for His great mercy to one who had so
long rejected Him.
That evening this new-born child of grace stood up
before the thoughtless companions of other days, and




132           AU TOBIO (G  A PH Y.
declared his resolution to serve God during the remainder of his life.
"Yes, I am thy servant, most bountiful Lord,
The son of thine handmaid so dear;
Who taught me the precepts contained in thy Word,
And gave me to God in her prayer;Yes, I am thy servant, eternally thine,
And thou art my heavenly King,
Of covenant mercy, transcendent, Divine,
My soul will eternally sing."
How did my obligations to my Father in heaven
press upon my soul as I looked upon all the loved
ones of my family, gathered for the first time in
many long, weary years, but now united by a double
tie, as the sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty.
Together we bowed before the widow's God, and the
Father of the fatherless, and then we felt the sweet
assurance that though separated on earth, though all
the attachments to home and native land, and dear
domestic comforts might be dissevered, and henceforth
we might be pilgrims on earth, the time would come
when we would meet, "an unbroken family, before
the throne of God —no wanderer lost."
In one year from that time my family was again
united around the bed of one of the loved number, to
witness her departure to another and a better world.




CHAPTER XX.
WILLIAM AND HIS ROOMMATE.
"Onward-for the truths of God,Onward for the right;
Firmly let the field be trod,
In life's coming fight:
Heaven's own hand will lead thee on;
Guard thee, till thy task is done."
DURING this season of deep interest, which extended to the town and the college, more than one
hundred, exclusive of those in the Seminary, expressed hope in the Redeemer.  One evening two
young friends from the college, sought my counsel and
sympathy.  Their minds were filled with doubtstheir souls with fears. They were both professing
Christians, but peace of mind had departed from them.
To my question,
"Do you pray?" their only reply was, "God has
covered himself with a cloud, that our prayers shall
not pass through."
" What efforts are you making for the conversion
of sinners around you?"
"We can do nothing; —we have no hope for ourselves,-how then can we direct the sinner to Jesus?"
"You have hoped in His mercy; you have labored




134          AUTOBIO GRAPHY.
in His cause; what has brought this darkness upon
your souls?"
"We can not tell?"'
" It is evident to me that the adversary has gained
some advantage over you. You have yielded to temptation, neglected duty, and God sees it necessary to
correct the wrong feeling or act. This want of evidence of your acceptance with Him, is the legitimate
result of a departure from God and calls for an humble and penitent spirit. Now, does a refusal to perform known duty imply a penitent spirit? and can
you expect God to restore to you the joys of His salvation, while you live in the violation of covenant
vows?  Did you make it a condition of obedience to
the command of your ascended Saviour, when you consecrated yourselves to His service, that you would be
diligent in His work just so long as He would impart
the comfort of a good hope to you?"
The questions startled them.  " Never!" was the
prompt reply.
" And yet this is the language of your conduct."
They acknowledged the correctness of the inference, but s'ill felt that their efforts were paralyzed by
the feeling that God would not accept their work.
Almost despairing of saying any thing to benefit them,
as they rose to depart I proposed that they should retire to their rooms, and write down a determination
to this effect; that if the Lord would give them peace
and comfort in believing, they would prove faithful




RECOLLECTIONS OF PUPILS.   135
disciples and laborers in His vineyard,-but if this
blessing was withheld, they must be excused from the
work. This proposal sent them with sad hearts to
their home.  God made it a word in season to them.
The morning found them at their work as followers
of Jesus, and I heard no more of dark distrust and
despondency.
About fifty individuals, we have reason to hope,
had during these two revivals in the school found a
personal interest in the great salvation. Many of
those who had been under my instruction in Vergennes partook of the blessing and referred to that memorable season, when the seed sown seemed to have been
scattered in stony places, but which in after time took
root and brought forth fruit to the glory of God.
Many were the letters that I received from beloved
pupils of other days, informing me of their resolutions
to serve the Lord.  One ascribed her first serious impressions to the morning instruction.  " It was never
forgotten," she said, " and though I never told you
of the effect upon my mind, —when I left school it
followed me, like an accusing conscience; till I cast
myself on the mercy of the Redeemer."
Another ascribed her convictions of sin to a parting word dropped as she left me, "! Remember, God is
love;" and still another, to a farewell charge given
with the parting kiss, —" Meet me in heaven." Some
referred to the recollections of disregarded instructions, and others to private conversations.




136          A UT OB I O G R A P IIY.
In the course of a few months my heart was rejoiced to hear of about one hundred and fifty dear
pupils, who had determined to live for God.
I would not speak boastingly of these mercies, for
the work was all of the Holy Spirit, —and to the
Triune God be all the glory; but these are bright
spots in my existence, upon which I delight to dwell.
Many sad hours have been cheered by the hope of
meeting these redeemed ones in the heavenly world,
and with them of praising our Father for His great
mercy forever and ever.
To a missionary friend, who was a teacher in my
school during the last revival, and who has for years
devoted her life to the cause of her blessed Master, in
the land of the Moslem, I wrote, requesting her to send
me any recollections of that season, so interesting in
its details to both of us. Her reply somewhat embarrassed me, for while I looked for a recital of her own
experience with the anxious, she gave me what she
considered the causes under Providence of the interesting work that had filled so many hearts with rejoicing and with hope. I give it in her own words.
" You ask me to mention any thing that particularly interested me in the Seminary, while we were
together in Middlebury.  With great pleasure I will
do so, but I only mention those things very briefly,
for were I to write out the impressions that I received
there, especially with respect to the religious instructions,-the manner and the character of them-which




MORNING INSTR UCTIONS.               137
are still clear and vivid in my mind, it would require
a much longer letter than you would care to read, or
I have time to write, just now.'" That morning hour for religious instruction and
prayer, was I am sure, to me the blessing, that went
with me through the whole day and was ever felt in
after life; there was in the method the plain, practical
instruction, adapted to the wants of each day, such
power and spirit, as I knew you could have received
only from on high, in the recesses of your closet, before you came in to us.
"' That hoar, I believe, the Lord will show in eternity to have been the beginning of eternal life to many
souls.  Before and after my connection with your
Seminary, I was accustomed to hear more or less
daily religious instruction at the family altar, and at
the opening hour of school, in different Institutions,
but it was usually such as did not prick the conscience.  The Lord, it seemed to me, enabled you to
bring truth to the conscience, so that the guilty soul
would feel, God knzows it- God sees me.  Hence,
sometimes I would hear it whispered, I Somebody has
been telling Mrs. C. about mze."
I'I recollect well the course of lectures that you
gave on the Ten Commandments.  Although I had
been a professor of religion for many years, it seemed
to me that these little daily lectures, stripped me of
every particle of goodness and showed me my heart
full of deformity and sin. Yet with hope they sent me




138          AUTO B I O GR A P HY.
to Christ, for cleansing and clothing.  I was well
aware that by my friends I had been considered a
model of filial piety, and thought myself very nearly
perfect on that head, but one morning in your lecture
on the fifth commandment, you told me how I had disobeyed mny mother and grieved her affectionate heart,
years and years ago. I knew that you could know
nothing about it; even I had forgotten it till that
memorable morning, when your words brought to my
mind every particular of the time, the place, and the
nzanner in which I did it. I never spoke of it to you,
but I wrote to my mother, and asked her forgiveness.
She, loving soul, did not remember the circumstance.
" The precious seasons of revival in your school,the teachers' and pupils' prayer-meetings-the recess,
five-minute gatherings for prayer-though not peculiar
to your Seminary-are still remembered with no common interest, and the benevolent society and missionary associations,-which, I believe, you have brought
to greater perfection in B.-I always felt were superior to any I had enjoyed any where else."




CHAPTER XXI.
THE  VARI:OLOID.
"Oh, there are moments for us here, when, seeing
Life's inequalities, and woe, and care,
The burdens laid upon one mortal being,
Seem heavier than the human heart can bear.
And for the evils that our race inherit,
What strength is given us that we may endure;
Surely the God and Father of our spirit
Sends not afflictions that He can not cure."
MY health had failed in consequence of too great
exertion and  anxiety  during  the summer  session;
i therefore, at its close, resorted to my usual restorative, and journeyed among friends.
I returned  to my dvities in  September, to enter
upon scenes, the remembrance of which still fills
my soul with  unspeakable  emotion.  The  Saturday
evening  meetings  were  continued, and  the  young
ladies of the family selected a season for prayer which
they found well calculated to repress the levity of the
thoughtless, and to assist the Christian in keeping her
heart fixed on God.  The time devoted to this exercise was the fifteen minutes that transpired betweet
the ringing of the bells that summoned the family to
the evening repast. As the warning bell sent forth
its pealing notes, they silently collected in one of
their "prayer rooms," and then bowed down before




140           AUTO B IOGRAPH Y
their Father in heaven, for a blessing. The second
bell was the signal to close their little meeting.
In December, two young ladies, members of the
seminary, were attacked with varioloid, which was
supposed for a time to be chicken-pox, and which
was so slight that it did not, for several days, prevent
their attendance at school.  In less than two weeks
another and another became ill.  The cases of Mliss
C., who boarded with a family very near to us, and
of Miss H., a resident in the seminary, became so
marked that suspicions were awakened, a council of
physicians was called, and to my utter amazement
and dismay, they pronounced them decided cases of
small-pox, introduced by varioloid.
The school and village were panic-stricken by the
intelligence. Every means in our power was resorted
to, to prevent its extension.  The pupils belonging to
town were immediately withdrawn from school, while
we, in the seminary, were for three weeks restricted
to a range, outside of the door, of only a few yards.
Bars were thrown across the street, above and below
us.  " Small Pox,"'in uvhitewvash purity, was blazoned on the walls and fences, warning the unwary
traveler to come not nigh the infected spot.
My situation at this time was most distressing.
Anxiety lest those in the family should be attackedfor they were not permitted to leave town-the necessity of keeping them cheerful and free from fear,
the extreme illness of Miss C. and Miss H., the




THE MIDNIGHT  BURIAL.              141
former of whom was gradually sinking to the grave,
forsaken by all save her own mother, and one attendant, the necessity imposed on me of confining my intercourse with her to notes, which I sent by her physician, joined to the apprehensions of the effect that
all this might have upon my school, pressed upon my
heart, and almost overwhelmed me.  The spiritual
enjoyment so lately imparted seemed to have forsaken
me; "All was dark, and vain, and wild."  The
judgments of God seemed impending over me, and
my feeling was that these were but the beginnings of
fiery wrath that would soon be poured out upon me
in full measure.
o how strange it was, that, having experienced so
much of the mercy of God, in times past, I should
now have sought any other refuge.  I could not bear
solitude; I could not endure my own gloomy forebodings. I flew to books, to anything, rather than
to God. Hle was far from mue, and I could not find
him in the darkness that enveloped my soul.
One infant child in the village had taken the smallpox from her sister, who had the varioloid. She died
and was buried in the stillness of the night. Noiselessly, and almost by stealth, the smitten father sought,
at the midnight hour, a resting-place for the dear one
among the graves of the household, when no eye was
upon him but that of God.
Miss IH. slowly recovered, but our young friend
Miss C., who had early given promise of devoted at



142           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
tachment to her Saviour's cause, and of mental preparation for a life of usefulness was called home ere
her labors and sacrifices on earth had commenced.
Distressed with agonizing pains, a loathsome object to
herself and to those who beheld her, she yet had
strong confidence in God, and great support in her
sufferings.  She died, triumphing in the hope of a
glorious immortality.
A  tarred wvinding-sheet prepared her for the
grave, and her ashes repose in a lonely corner of a
solitary field. Coffined in a rude box, we saw her
borne to her last resting-place on earth on the shoulders of four rough, unprincipled men, whose love of
money conquered the fear of death; but we might
not follow her to her rude grave.  When with sad
hearts and weeping eyes we looked away from the
melancholy spectacle, we saw the flames ascend that
consumed all the vestiges of her distressing sickness.
We witnessed it all —and 0, what a Sabbath morning
was that, when we stood and watched the remains of
our friend passing from our view, and felt that we
might not turn to the sanctuary of God for comfort.
During this gloomy season no friend was permitted
to cheer our solitude, and had any of us been called
into eternity, no minister of Christ would have sent
up a prayer from our deserted bier, or followed us to
our last home.
But not over us alone did the angel of death cast
his shadow.  Transmitted from one to another, the




THE PLAGUE  STAYED,               143
dreaded pestilence extended its baleful influence to
distant places, and many who had been exposed to its
infection while ignorant of its nature, fell victims to
its power.
By the commencement of the succeeding term, in
February, the clouds that had so long hung over us
seemed passing away. Health was restored to my
family; the embargo was removed, the destructive
plague was stayed, and once more our school was in
successful operation.




CHAPTER XXII.
MAiRIA  S  ILLNESS AND  DEATH.'60 weep not -for the dead,
No more for them the blighting chill,
The thousand shades of earthly ill,
The thousand thorns we tread;
Weep for the life-charm early flown,
The spirit broken, bleeding, lone,
Weep for the death-pangs of the heart,
Ere being from the bosom part;
But never be a tear-drop given
To those that rest in you blue heavenl'
THE week after the commencement of our term,
Maria had a slight attack of varioloid, but so carefully was she kept from intercourse with the family
that no alarm  was produced.  She apparently recovered, and  pursued  her preparations for an intended
visit to Princeton, where she designed spending several
months in the family of her uncle, and where she
anticipated much intellectual improvement and enjoyment from the privileges and the society that would
be afforded to her.
Her literary attainments, her energy and decision
of character seemed peculiarly to fit her for great
usefulness as a teacher in the seminary, and her active
and devoted life as a Christian, gave promise of no
common character. Her progress in her studies was
such that she always classed with pupils much older




A P PY CHI LDHOO D              145
than herself. No superficial knowledge of a subject
ever satisfied her mind. Study, with her, was a
passion, one that she never sought to restrain.  An
interdict upon her books was always a sufficient punishment for a fault, and she asked no greater reward
for any good accomplished than the privilege of
reading to her mother some book that interested her
own feelings.  She loved, even in childhood, to steal
away from the amusements suited to her age, to some
retired spot, to pore over the pages of some work far
beyond an infantile capacity.  Well do I remember
with what interest she twice read over an essay on the
subject of Philology, when she was but eight years
old, pointing out to the attention of a friend some
beautiful passages that greatly delighted her.
She possessed great quickness of apprehension,
which, while it enabled her to appreciate intellectual
beauty, rendered her keenly sensitive to the sufferings
of others.  Seldom  did the tale of sorrow fail to
awaken an answering sympathy in her breast, and
often, in the days of her childhood, when her mother
spoke to her of the distress of some suffering neighbor, has she voluntarily relinquished her own little
comforts, that she might carry the offering to the
abode of poverty.
She early imbibed a great reverence fbr the Word
of God; "from  a child she knew the Holy Scriptures,' and a  thuls saith the Lord," was always
sufficient to awaken in her attention to duty.




146          AU TO B IO GRA P HY.
Many Christian friends who noticed her strict observance of the Sabbath, and of her private devotions
while yet a mere child, thought she was, even then, a
babe in Christ. To uncommon penetration, she united
great quickness of thought, and she was always ready
with a suitable reply, perhaps serious, perhaps marked
by a shrewdness that made her the pet of the passing
hour.
When she was about three years old, at the time
that I was preparing for my journey to the south
to meet my beloved husband, many friends were desirous of retaining Maria with them.
"I must go," she said, " with my mother."' But," said her aunt, " you will be sick there."
" And mamma will take care of me."
"' But the doctor says you may have the fever and
die there."
" Well, Aunt E., can't I go to heaven just as well
from Georgia as I can from Middlebury?"
When reunited to her father, whom she scarcely
remembered, she seemed to exist in a new world. -The
varied scenery of a tropical latitude, the successive
presentation of new and interesting objects, the affection of friends-whose idolatrous attachment was soon
to be corrected-all contributed to increase her natural buoyancy of spirit, and the joyousness of her heart
was bursting forth continually in song.
But this brilliant morning of life, so rich in the
enjoyment of this purest and best affections, was soon




M A R I A' S JOURNAL.           147
succeeded by a bereavement which made desolate the
family circle. From this time, young as she was,
Maria searched the Scriptures, to select those promises that were particularly made to the widow and
fatherless, and with great propriety and earnestness would she "' pray them  in her own prayers'" to
God.
In a journal that she commenced at the age of
twelve, she writes, "I have formed some resolutions
which with God's help I mean to keep: to read my
Bible and to pray, morning and evening.  I have
begun to read the Bible in course, and I pray God
that some of its truths may impress themselves upon.my heart, and lead me to Him who is the sinner's
friend, and who has said,'They that seek me early
shall find me.' Sometimes, after mingling with the
world, and enjoying its pleasures, there is a hollowness in my heart which can not be filled, and yet my
hard and stony heart says,'I will not have the Lord
to reign over me.' Sometimes I determine that I
will fly to the Saviour, and make the Judge my
friend, but then the cares and pleasures of the world
take off my thoughts, and lead me to forget my best
interests.'
At another time she writes, "I have not read
much to-day. I am glad I obeyed my mother in this
respect; I hope that I shall be an obedient and dutiful child to her. 0, what should I do if I were deprived of my mother's counsel and instruction!"




148           AUTOB IOGRA PY.
On the Sabbath she writes,  I have been to-day
where I have seen books read which were not suitable
for this holy day. I am thankful that I have been
kept from sinning in this way, but it is not in my
own strength, but in the strength of the Lord. I read
Christ's Sermon on the Mount. IHe says that anger
towards a brother is murder; how often have I been
angry with my brother and sister without a cause.
May the Lord forgive me for it."
Again she writes, " I have not been very happy
during the past fortnight. The thoughts of my father,
so early removed from us, weighed upon me, and I
hlave thought, if my mother should be called away,
what I should do without the all-supporting love of
God.".On another day.  "I wish to record in my journal," she says, " that this morning I showed a very
improper spirit towards my mother, and I should
have persisted in having my own way, if she had
not prevented me, and made me ashamed of my conduct.  At noon I was rude to C. E.  I wonder that
everybody does not hate me for such things; and why
does God bear with me so patiently?"
These extracts, taken promiscuously from a diary,
which was kept during only two years of her life,
show the tenderness of her conscience at that early
age.
Over her defects-and she was not destitute of
faults-she often wept bitterly.  Again and again




HER  CONSECRATION.                149
would she entreat her mother to point out her failings, faithfully and particularly, that she might try
to correct them.  Perhaps her failings can all be
traced to one great defect-inattention to trifles.
Her's was a character strongly marked; her own
mind was a fountain whence she drew resources for
happiness which rendered her, in a measure, independent of the world, and this very independence, while
it preserved her from contamination, by withdrawing
her from the society of. the frivolous and worldly, led
her to neglect many of those little attentions, which,
as beings placed together on the great theatre of
action, it is our duty to bestow on those around us.
Singularly averse to deception, her soul spurned the
thought of sacrificing truth and conscience to popularity. Of her consecration to her Saviour's service
at the age of fourteen, an account has already been
given, in the history of that precious work in 1830,
which filled so many hearts with rejoicing. In this
surrender of herself to God, there was no sacrifice
of worldly pleasure, for she had never sought happiness in such pursuits, but her piety was strikingly
evinced by the difference in the motives which now
seemed to influence her.
She pursued her studies with the same untiring
zeal, but she cultivated her mind that she might
render herself more extensively useful. She interested herself more in the concerns of those around
her, but it was that she might be enabled to strengthen




150           AUTOBIO G RAPH PY.
a wavering resolution, or excite anxiety for the salvation of the soul. Arm in arm with a Christian friend,
has she gone forth to the abodes of want, distributing
those silent messages of pardon and love which have
filled so many hearts with joy and gladness.
The young friend who was the chosen companion
of these visits of mercy, once related a circumstance
which evinced Maria's moral courage and Christian
principle.  In one of their rambles they entered a
filthy hovel. where was seated a coarse, brazen-faced,
dirty woman, surrounded by a froup of children to
whom the blessings of clean garments and persons
were entire strangers.  Seating themselves on a rickety bedstead, Maria, who was usually the speaker on
such occasions, after inquiring after the health, etc.,
of the wondering occupant, asked if she would accept
of one or two tracts.
cWLTell, you may leave them, if you've a mind
to," was the rude reply. After a few minutes spent
in conversation, Maria said to her,
" Would you like to have a prayer made before we
leave?"
" And, pray," said the woman, " who will make it
here?"
"' I will," said the youthful disciple, " if you will
permit me."
" Well, I never," was the rough response, and down
she kneeled to listen to the supplication of this babe
in Christ, in behalf of herself and her children. Evi



OPEN PROFESSION.                 151
dently gratified by the visit, she thanked them for it,
and requested that it might be repeated.
Two months after she had indulged the hope of
acceptance through a Redeemer, Maria stood up in
the great congregation with a band of Christians, on
that day hallowed in the affections of every American
as the day of his country's freedom and glory, and
presented herself, as a " living sacrifice, holy," and,
as we trust, "acceptable to God, through Jesus
Christ,' and avouched the Lord Jehovah as her
God and Guide through life.
It was a pleasing sight to see this consecrated band
of youthful disciples, thus commemorating the day
that'" gave a living soul to a young nation's shapeless clay," by this thank offering of themselves, to
Him whose dying love bequeathed the blessings of salvation, to a world enslaved by sin.  From that time
it was evident to those who knew  her, that Maria's
course was onward.
Many there are who will long remember her labors
of love,-her disinterested efforts for their welfare,her engagedness in every work of benevolence,-her
life of prayer.  There was so much expression, in her
prayers, so much of the going forth of the soul, that
none who heard her could believe that she was a stranger at the throne of grace. At the weekly concert
for prayer on " preparation eve," she was always at
her place, and there. she loved to unite her heart




152           AUTOBIO G R A PH Y
and voice with the circle of Christian friends, who assembled to supplicate God's mercy on the school.
One little circumstance of the trying winter, that
preceded her departure from earth is indelibly impressed on my mind, as almost prophetic of her future
blessedness. Whenever she saw me weary and sad,
she would seat herself at the piano, and turning to me
with a smile, A' Come, Mother," she would say, " let
me sing my song to you," and her song was always,
"Jerusalem, my happy home,
Name ever dear to me.
Many prospects bright and beautiful opened on the
future, as she entered upon the spring of 1832. The
previous winter had been one of severe trial and to her
of intense application; and she was now preparing to
spend several months with friends in New Jersey,
where as she expressed it,'<she should be feasted
wvith books."'Returning    fronm a. meeting of the Education society,
exposure to dampness and cold, concentrated upon her
lungs an infl-ammation which baffled all the efforts of
medical skill to remove.  The severity of her disorder
arid the stupor that it produced, precluded all conversation with her during the first week of her illness.
On the fourth day after her attack, her physician,
Doctor B., stood by her bedside regarding her for
some time with intense interest, then turning much
affected from the room he requested me to follow him.




THE DEATH- KNELL.               153
Only those who are mothers-and widowed mothers, —
who have felt the death-knell of long cherished hopes
strike upon their hearts, can conceive the agony of
that moment, when with feelings that entirely overcame him, Doctor B. told me all his fears, and requested that a counsel of medical advisers might be
summoned.  They were soon in consultation, but gave
little hopes of her recovery, and when at evening they
again assembled around her bed they unanimously
pronounced her case to be hopeless.
I had watched every movement of the dear childevery look and word of kind friends who clustered
around her sick bed through that distressing day, at
one moment buoyed up by the hope, that youth and
kind care with God's blessing would gain the victory
over disease,-at another, sinking with apprehension
of the trial that might be in store for me. I dared
not look into my heart; I was afraid to analyze its
feelings, for I was conscious that there was no submission there. And now it came-the terrible truth sunk
into my heart, —she mutst die,-and she might be taken
from me that very night; so feared her medical attendants. - After this lapse of time, when years have
calmed the turbulence of feeling, I can not recall the
experience of that night without unutterable emotions.
They are graven upon my heart as with the point of
a diamond. Well, perhaps, was it for me that insensibility for a time, closed up every avenue to sorrow.
That was a night to be remembered through eternity.
7*




154           AUTOBIOGRAPI-IY
I was persuaded to retire and seek rest, while my
brother and sister with other friends, kindly watched
beside the sufferer.  In the silence of my chamber,
where the feelings of my heart were unveiled to no
eye but God's, did I unlock the prison house of my
soul, and read its secret anguish. I reviewed the
past,-the goodness of God to my school-to my
family,-the instructions that I had given to both —
how often I had insisted on the efficacy of religion to
hush every rising murmur, to give even cheerful acquiescence to trying dispensations.' Now I felt that
God was saying to me by this afflictive providence, let
your own example prove the truth of your assertions.
I had for some time indulged the hope, that this
loved one would devote herself to missionary life, and
I had often felt that cheerfully I could commit her to
the protection of her heavenly Father, should he call
her to this work; and I now asked myself if I should
repine that He spared her the trials of such a life and
called her to a holier employment? The promises of
God, rich and comforting, were all spread out before
my mind, and while my heart shrunk from the trial
of parting, as the image of my dear child in all her
loveliness of character and in all that she was to me,
rose before me, I turned me to this stronghold and
felt that if God would be with me and grant me the
supports of H- is grace, I could resign her submissively.
With the simple confidence of a child I laid hold of
those precious promises, and pleaded them before that




"THROUGH  NIGHT  TO LIGHT.'9  155
mercy-seat to which I had so often found access
through the crucified One. He heard my cries and
answered me in mercy, and I went forth from that
room in the morning, praising my Father for his wonderful grace to me. From that time no rebellious
feelings mingled with a mother's sorrow, and my
great desire was, that if my child must be removed
from me, her death and my submission might glorify
God.
Thus strengthened, I was enabled to attend to my
duties in school during the remainder of her life,
which continued for three weeks from this times
though often startled in the midst of a recitation lest
some approaching footstep was bringing the summons,
to go and receive the parting kiss.
In every former illness her impatience to recover,
that she might resume her favorite pursuits, manifested itself in all her actions and rendered her restless under her confinement; but from the commencement of this attack there was a resignation of spirit, a
passiveness and quietness visible in her whole appearance, altogether unlike her natural character. When
informed that no hopes were entertained of her recovery, no agitation of spirit betrayed itself in her
looks; she made no reply, but closing her eyes, lay
for a time as motionless as if the sleep of death had
already fallen upon her.
After many days of deep and distressing anxiety
to her friends, who earnestly desired that she might




156           A        U 1 o B I O GI R A PI:I.
be able to express her feelings in the near view of
eternity, she fully opened her heart to her mother;
and the only tear that bedewed her cheek while she
lay on her bed of death, she shed while lamenting her
past unfaithfulness in her Saviour's cause. When
asked if she was afraid to die, she replied, "It is a
solemn thing to go into eternity, to appear in the
presence of God."
"'But you have hope in his mercy through the
merits of your Saviour?"' Yes, I have hope in His mercy; —0 what should
I now do, without this hope to sustain me;" then after
a, pause she added,'but I am afraid of deception,I am afraid of my deceitful heart." Many passages
of Scripture were repeated to her, expressive of the
ability and willingness of her Redeemer to save all
that would come unto God through Him. She looked
up with an expression that seemed to say, "I receive
into my soul all the consolation and the strength
which these precious promises are calculated to impart."
"Are you willing," said her mother, "to leave
yourself in the hands of your heavenly Father, to live
or die as He sees best for you?"
" I hope I shall be," she replied impressively:'" Mother, there are many things for which I should
wish to live;I have very dear friends."
"4 You have often, my child, lamented that you were
so early deprived of your father's society and affec



RESTING ON  THE PROMII,SES.   157
tion; if you are one of the redeemed in Christ, you
will soon join him in his song of praise in heaven."
With an expressive look she replied, " But I leave
my mother here."
" If we are the children of God," said her mother,
"our scattered family shall e'er long all be gathered
into our Father's house in heaven, to go no more out
forever."' Pray with me, my dear mother, that I may be
entirely resigned to the will of God."
After this, her uniform answer to the question,
"Are you willing to leave yourself with God, to be
disposed of as shall be for His glory?" was, I' I trust
I am willing."
Her distress fbr breath was such that her friends
could converse with her only at intervals, and then
but for a moment; but it was interesting to witness
the patience and submission with which she bore her
sufferings.  When I said to her at one time,
" You suffer much, my child."
4' 0 no," she replied; " nothing to what I deserve,nothing to what my Saviour endured for me."'
At another time seeing her evidently in great distress, I said, "I wish I could bear some of these pains
for you."    I am  thankful that you can not; —not
one pain would I have you suffer."
She was much affected by the mercies granted to
her, and. often spoke with great gratitude of the kind
attention of friends, who were always ready to minis



~158          AUT O BIO GR APHY.
ter to her wants and to sympathize with her in her
sufferings.  " Mother," she said, "we shall never
forget this kindness. How merciful is God in granting to me so many blessings."
No murmur or complaint escaped her lips during
the distressing illness that was rapidly consuming her
vital energies.  No enrapturing joys or transporting
views of glory, marked her approach to the heavenly
world; but the calm confidence of the simple, trusting child, —the peaceful tranquility of the soul, sweetly
resting on the bosom of the Saviour, gave a cheering
hope to her afflicted friends that she had not been deceived in the great work of preparation for this hour
of trial,-that the hope which sustained her was sure
and steadfast, based upon the Reock of Ages.
A few evenings before her departure, while weeping friends stood around her bed, expecting each moment would be her last on earth, unable to speak in
an audible voice, she drew her mother toward her
and whispered, "M Mother, as thy day is so shall thy
strength be."' And as thy day is, my child, so I trust will be
thy strength.  Is Jesus precious to your soul?  Do
you feel that you can now commit yourself into His
hands without fear?"
"' I think I can trust Him.  Ile is precious to my
soul. "
I was much struck about this time with a singular
coincidence, in which I recognized a message of mercy




GOD TEMPERS THE FUIRNA CE.  159
from my heavenly Father. A few days previous to
dear Maria's death, a friend had brought to me the
explanation of the third verse of the third chapter of
Malachi, given by the silversmith of Dublin.  The
next day our pastor called, and in his prayer by the
bedside of the suffering one, while commending her
mother to God's supporting grace, he prayed that as
"God had now placed her in the furnace, He would
graciously fix his eye upon her and when He sees His
image reflected from her soul, say, it is enough and
spare the child.'
Again the message was repeated. A day or two
after, when my eldest son came as he hoped to accompany the loved one to her uncle's home, he brought
me a book of memorials, in which I had requested to
have some remembrancers inscribed by absent friends,
and there I found recorded by the hand of one of
them, this same message of mercy. I trust it was
not thrice sent in vain.
" Mother," said Maria to me, at a time when an
interval of ease enabled her to converse a little, "do
you remember that beautiful hymn, commencing with,
"When languor and disease invade,
This trembling house of clay."
I had begun to learn it just before I was taken sick,
and had committed four verses to memory. I think
there are two more and I wish you would repeat them
to me, that I may learn them, too."  I sought the




160            A. UT OB IO  R A P I Y.
hymn and the verses that she had yet to learn, were
strikingly suited to her present situation.' Sweet in the confidence of faith,
To trust His firm decrees;
Sweet to lie passive in His hand,
And know no will but His.
If such the sweetness of the streams,
What must the fountain be,
Where saints and angels draw their bliss,
Immediately from thee."
After complying with her request, I asked, "can
you say, my child,
"Sweet to lie passive in His hand,
And kn.ow no will, but His."
" O yes, mother, it is sweet to lie passive in His
hand."
On the morning of the 17th of April, it was evident that her sufferings would soon cease. Her mind
was wandering through the day; and if it is true that
derangement exhibits us as we really are, that it displays the ruling passion of the heart-then we might
almost envy the purity of mind and freedom  front
every taint of worldliness, indicated by the remarks of
that day.  She seemed to have acquired new strength
to make her last effort for the good of others.  She
addressed  conversation  to  different individuals, as
though they were present, expostulating with some,
and urging others to prepare for a dying hour.  She
repeated passages of Scripture often during the day,




WANDERINGS OF MIND  161
and seemed perfectly to understand and to be able to
apply those that were repeated to her.
At one time, supposing that she was addressing one
who was a member of the school, but who was not
present, she said, with great earnestness, "' Ann, let
me tell you that a sick bed is no place for repentance.
O the pains and sufferings of a dying hour. Jesus
can make a dying bed,' Feel soft as downy pillows
are,' but 0 the pains and sufferings of a dying hour.
I tell you, Ann, that you must not defer repentance
to a dying hour."  Then pausing, she uttered with
fearful solemnity, " Ann, were you ever so ill as to
look right into eternity?  I tell you, Ann, don't defezr repentance?"
In a few moments she' repeated the scripture, "I
am He that blotteth out thy transgressions, for mine
own sake."  "Do you hope," said her mother, " that
all your sins are blotted out for Jesus' sake?"
" 0 Frances," she replied, supposing that she was
speaking to an impenitent friend, in school, "if I did
not hope so, I should go crazy."  She remained quiet
for a while, and then repeated in a clear voice, "Hirm
that overcome-th will I make a pillar in the temple of
my God, and he shall go no more out."
Naming certain friends, for whose conversion to
God she had long felt most intense anxiety, she said,: Mother, I can not persuade them to embrace religion; 0 you can not think how determined they are.
What can this world do for them? What will it avail




162           AUTOBIO GRAP HY.
them, if they should gain the whole world and lose
their souls?  I urged the subject upon them, but they
turned away with indifference and contempt." The
lustre of her eye which seemed to kindle with new intelligence,-the animation of her countenance, almost
radiant with celestial beauty-and the impressiveness
and energy with which she spoke, gave inexpressible
interest to every word that she uttered.
Her last words showed the value that she attached
to prayer.  "Do they love to pray?" she enquired,
after a long silence.  Supposing that she referred to
the Saturday evening gathering for that purpose, I
replied, "'Yes, Maria, they love to meet for prayer
and there you are remembered."  " But do they love
to meet in the little family prayer-meetings? I hope
they love to pray there." This was a season that
had been proposed by herself, —one that had been
very precious to her.
Towards evening she ceased to speak or to notice
surrounding objects.  She lay in all the quietness of
infancy, her strength gradually failing till about eight
o'clock, when she breathed her life out sweetly on the
bosom of her Redeemer.
"Without a sighl
A change of feature, or a shadedl smile,
She gave her hand to the stern messenger,
And as the glad child seeks its. Father's house,
Went home."
She stands before the throne of God and strikes her




BEAUTIFUL IN DEATH.                163
harp in heaven, hymning high songs of everlasting
praise to Him, who bled and died for guilty man.
I wish it were possible to describe my feelings, as
her soul was departing. Many a Christian mother,
I doubt not could give a similar experience, but few
could fully sympathize with me in all the circumstances in which this sacrifice was made.  I wept, but
they were not tears of sorrow alone. The loved and
the cherished had departed from me, but in all the
dealings of our Father towards us, such mercy was
manifested- such support granted-such satisfactory
evidence imparted, that she was prepared for the
blessed society of heaven-that with Mrs. Graham I
could exclaim, "I give thee joy, my darling."  Oh,
what a holy place was that room,. whence the sainted
spirit ascended to her rest.
I was as sensible of the presence of my Saviour, as
though in the sympathy of His incarnation, He stood
before me. I felt that holy angels were on their
errand of mercy, to convoy the blessed spirit to her
eternal home, and while I experienced in all its bitterness the severity of the trial that was now brought
upon me, I found no place in my heart for murmurs
or complaints. She was beautiful in death; —for the
same serenity and peace that marked her whole appearance during her sickness, rested upon her lifeless
features.




164             AUTOB IO GRAPHY.
~LINES TO THE MEMORY  OF M. H. C. by H. D. K.
"They who have looked on death like thine,
No more should fear to die."
Within a quiet room a couch was spread;It was Death's altar, and the victim there
Was young and beautiful. It was the time
When the glad Spring looked warmly on the earth,
And round the opened window came its winds,
And shook its budded branches, and stole in
With whispers to her ear of bitter thoughts
Of many a bright scene she might see no more.
She turned away, and with her spirit's might,
Flingingl the young hopes from her heart, she looked,
With earnest purpose on her only task.
The promise of glad years was on her soul,
The holy loves of kindred, and the smiles
Of a bright world to her; and the kind thoughts
Of a live-hearted girl for her young friends;
And visions of strange brightness, springing up
In the far future; these had all been hers;
And now, she looked upon them one by one,
Yielding the tribute of a death-bed tear
For those sad comforts now, then tearing them
From out her being,. that she so might turn
Uncumbered to the strife and better die.
She had been lovely in her life, and when
The beautiful went thronging by, we marked
No look like hers, so speaking of the soul;
But now'twas more than beauty. Through the hall
Steps took a desolate hush, and words were breathed
With whispered earnestness that left no hope;
And those that saw the meek and holy calm
That reigned in her lit eye, and heard of peace
And hopes better than earth's, and of a home
Where she should soon find peace, while in her look
All that is this world's beauty took the light
Of heaven's irradiance; 0 they did feel
That death and loveliness are not sworn foes,




MO NODY  BY HI. D. K.                   165
Then came, while yet the parting pang was stayed,
A brighter hour-with fevered throb no more
The maddened pulse leapt on its burning way;
Bright with returning life the kindled eye
Beamed joyously, and hope half lit her torch
To mark the welcome change. Delusive spell I
So brighter beams, along the brow of heaven
The midnight meteor, ere it sinks in night.
With fitful ray, so shoots the farewell flash
From out the sepulcher of wasted fire.
In the deep, cloudless west, with holy light,
The deep-hued sunset burned, her last on earth;
So calmly turned her reverential eye
On the fast-fading glow; she seemed to gaze
On some near seraph band, and hold communion
With sister spirits of another sphere.
Her hour had come, and she was of the dead;
Yet o'er the ruins of her fallen hopes,
With warring life entombed, and loveliness,
Triumphant was the Christian's hope, and rose
On beauty's wreck, like star of morn on night,
Her hope of heaven and immortality.




CHAPTER XXIII.
WILLIAM'S REMOVAL TO VIRGINIA. —CHANGtES.
"Let our increasing, earnest prayer
Be e'er for light and strength to bear
Our portion of the weight of care
That crushes into dumb despair
One half the human race."
MANY hopes were entertained that Maria's death,
so suggestive, so triumphant, might prove a blessing
to the school, and be followed by a revival of religion.
There was much seriousness and solemnity for a time,
but the dreaded cholera then made its first appearance in the land, and though not in our immediate
neighborhood, all other subjects were forgotten, in
anxiety, or apprehensive terror, as it gradually
pursued its onward march. The impaired health of
my eldest and now only daughter, rendered change
of air and scene necessary, and she accepted an invitation to spend the summer with the friends in New
Jersey who had been disappointed in the visit that
they had expected from Maria.
A severe attack of what threatened to be cholera,
laid me on a bed of suffering for three weeks, but kind
and affectionate pupils watched -over me, allowing no'hired nurse" to bestow that care which they declared it was their privilege to share.




RESIGN  MY SITUATION.               167
My youngest son, having just completed his collegiate course, was now about to go forth to enter upon
life's struggles. It was necessary for him to assist
me in liquidating debts contracted during this period
of his life; he therefore concluded to seek some employment in one of our southern states. I indorsed
several notes for him, and hired money literally " on
usury, " in order to meet present demands.  This
necessity brought upon me new trials-trials which
sometimes threatened to cut the brittle thread of life.
They are past, and I thank God that such trials can
never again bring sleepless nights, and days of mortification, disappointment and anguish.
By hastening his journey William was enabled to
join his brother in Philadelphia on the morning of his
marriage, and to proceed with the newly-wedded pair
to Virginia, which had been selected as the place of
their future residence.
Dissatisfaction with the arrangements which the
trustees of the seminary had made respecting the
boarding department, decided me to relinquish my situnation in Middlebury, and accordingly, in the autumn
of 1833 I closed my connection with the institution.
During the previous summer, M. G., a former pupil,
visited me, and very precious is the remembrance of
the days that she passed with me. A few weeks
after, in the midst of her preparations for entering
upon a missionary life, she was suddenly called to her
rest. She had been for a long time under my in



168          A UTO B IO G RA P H Y.
struction, had been to me as a daughter, and her
death revived, in all its bitterness, my recent bereavement. Well prepared for the self-denying work to
which she had consecrated herself, she was expecting
to sail with Mr. A. for Borneo, in the spring.  The
Lord accepted the sacrifice and spared her the trials
to which she would have been subjected.
A. P., another loved and adopted one, who had
been recently married entered into her rest only two
weeks previous to dear Maria, and as I thought of
their youth and their prospects of usefulness, I
could scarcely repress the murmuring inquiry, " Lord,
why is the peace of a dear family invaded, the young
left motherless, and the missionary of the cross prevented from entering upon the work assigned to her,
while I, worn out with trials and almost useless, am
spared to be a burden to myself and to my friends?'
I knew such feelings were wrong, but these deaths
deeply affected me.




CHAPTER XXIV.
RESIDENCE IN WOODSTOCK.-REMOVAL TO NEW YORK.
"' Then come what may, we'll humbly wait 
His arm was never bared too late;
The promise will not, can not fail,
Though dark the night, the morn will break,
His own the Lord will not forsake;
The prayer of faith shall yet prevail,
And we shall deem the trial sweet
Tihat laid us waiting at his feet."
ELIZA had returned from her visit to New Jersey,
but her failing health again demanded a change of
climate, and she journeyed to the south, for a brief
sojourn with her married brother. We parted in great
sadness of spirit, she to pursue  her journey with
strangers, to her southern home, I to commence my
pilgrimage anew, to form  new acquaintances, a wanderer from the place that had so long been my home.
None knew, save Him who searcheth the depths of
the heart, what I endured, as I went forth on a dark,
rainy, gloomy morning, once more to abide among
strangers. I believe that, unsupported by the grace
of God, I should have sunk beneath the trial.
I spent one year in Woodstock, a year, like many
that preceded it, distinguished by trials and mercies.
Here I found myself in new circumstances. My school
was composed of those professing all creeds,  Many




170          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
of my pupils were from families who were decidedly
opposed to the great doctrines of evangelical truth.
With the peculiarities of the parents I was wholly
unacquainted, and though I soon found out that I was
watched by scrutinizing eyes, all united in endeavoring to make my residence among them comfortable
and happy.
Fully aware that my success as a teacher would
depend much on gaining the affection and confidence
of the children, I entered cautiously upon my work.
I had no sectarian feelings to gratify, for to such, I
trust, I have ever been a stranger. The Episcopalian, the Congregationalist and the Universalist was
before me, and I sought not to proselyte, but to instruct the mind, and to win the heart to Jesus.
- At the commencement of my term I gave no direct
religious instruction, but, while reading the Scriptures, I occasionally threw in explanatory remarksreligious anecdotes-illustrations of certain passages
-information respecting ancient customs, etc., till I
found that the pupils had become interested in the
morning exercises.  By degrees the truth was pressed
home upon the conscience, and evidently produced
some effect.
About this time, Mr. B. came to labor as an evangelist in Woodstock, by invitation from the Congregational church, and great was the blessing that descended
upon the people. My school shared largely in this
blessing, and several of my pupils consecrated them



REM OVNAL TO NEW  YORK.            171
selves to the service of God. The good work was not
confined to any denomination, but the inquiry,
"What must I do to be saved?" was heard in every
part of the town. I certainly did not approve of all
the measures adopted at this time by Mr. B., on account of which " there arose no small stir about that
way," but I could never unite with those who raised
the cry against him. After he had departed from
them, many of whom had enjoyed the benefits of his
ministry in their own souls or in their families, I
considered Mr. B. an injured man, and as such I defended him. An eccentric one he certainly was, and
yet God saw fit to bless his labors, and many, I have
no doubt, will, through his instrumentality, enter into
the kingdom of heaven.
I remained in Woodstock only one year, having
been induced, by the urgent entreaties of a suffering
sister, to consent to make my home with her during
the ensuing winter. Accordingly, in the autumn of
1885, I again changed my residence, feeling that
truly " Here I have no continuing city,"' and took up
my temporary abode in New York.
The nine months that I spent in that city were
employed in relieving my sister from her family cares
and burdens, in teaching her children, -and in seeking
to find my place among the benevolent operations of
the day.
In January, with my brother and sister, I united
with the church that had just been organized under




172           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
the pastoral charge of the Rev. Dr. Skinner, and rich
was the feast that I enjoyed from his preaching.
While in New York'I was urgently and repeatedly
solicited by a friend to undertake the editorship of a
magazine designed expressly for the improvement of
young ladies. Several of my friends were of opinion
that the experience I had acquired in my years of
teaching, aided by the multiplicity of facts that I
had collected during those years, peculiarly qualified
me for such a work.  After much deliberation and
prayer I came to the conclusion that God had not
then called me to engage in such an undertaking.
I was also invited to become a missionary teacher
in Illinois, but having been satisfied that the compensation offered could not meet necessary expenses, and
having no capital of my own on -which I could fall
back in trying emergencies, I was compelled to give
the negative to this plan.  When I left Woodstock
the promise had' been made to me that I should be
assisted to establish a school in New York in the
spring; the spring opened, but for reasons that I
never fully understood, and cared not to fathom, the
promise was not fulfilled.




CHAPTER XXV.
REMOVAL  TO  BLOOMFIELD. —VISIT  TO VIRGINIA. —
REVIVAL.
"L Spirit of everlasting graceInfinite source of life, come down,
These tombs unlock, these dead upraise,
Ty glorious power and love make known.
Breathe o'er the valley of this dead,
Send forth thy quick'ning might abroad,
Till rising from their tombs, they spread
In full array-the host of God."
WHILE preparing to visit my children in Virginia,
I received an invitation to spend a day or two in
Bloomfield, N. J., to ascertain the practicability of
opening a Seminary in that place. After complying
with the request, I concluded to make the experiment,
and in July, 1836, once more found myself a stranger in the midst of strangers.
My first term  of three months passed rapidly. by,
and at its close I received an " unanimous call," to
make a permanent settlement among that people.. I
accepted the propositions that were made and passed
the month of October, with my children. I proposed
to my eldest son to unite with me in what I felt would
be an arduous undertaking. He desired time for consideration and here for the time being the matter
rested.




174           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
During this visit, in company with a number of
friends, I made an excursion to Weyer's Ca.ve, which
was situated only a few miles from my son's residence.
This is one of the grandest productions of nature,
where man is emphatically taught his littleness and
impotency. The vast apartments, with their lofty
arches,  the deep, unfathomable abysses, that bid defiance to mortal vision,-the graceful drapery that
ornamented many of these halls, and the solid pillars,
which seemed like columns supporting the dome of
some gorgeous temple-all emphatically proclaim " the
hand that made us, is Divine."
On the first of November, I reopened my school in
Bloomfield, and soon after it was evident that the
HIoly Spirit was awakening in the minds of Christians
a spirit of prayer, for a blessing to descend upon the
church and people. I was rejoiced at the prospect,
and hoped much for the school.  Returning one evening from a prayer-meeting, which had been characterized by unusual solemnity, I resolved before I retired to rest to converse with one of three pupils, who
were members of the family in which I resided.  One
of these was so thoughtless —so very trifling-that
though I had repeatedly sought to impress religious
truth on her mind, it made no permanent impression.
I therefore determined to pass her by for this time,
and seek an interview with a more promising subject.
As I rose, at the sound of approaching footsteps, to
call one of her companions, I learned that both had




HOPE AWAKENED.                  175
retired for the night, and with a feeling of disappointment, I said, " Well, Mary, come in yourself; I wish
to converse with you a few moments."  Scarcely did
I ever before enter into conversation with an impenitent person with greater reluctance, for only two days
previous to this term, when I had remarked to her,
" Mary, you are so trifling in your manner, that
every word I speak seems to rebound," she laughingly made such a reply, as strikingly illustrated the
truth of the remark.
In the interview which had now as it were been
forced upon me, I determined, since she was the one
sent to me, to be faithful to her.  After much effort
to iimpress truth upon her heart, I prayed with her
and we retired to rest. For three days she scarcely
spoke or smiled, but evidently sought to be near me.
Her distress then could no longer be concealed, and
she came to me for coeunsel and for prayer.
One morning while in school her feelings became
so uncontrollable, that she requested permission to
leave the room. On her return, which was delayed
for some time, I perceived that the expression of her
face was wholly changed. Instead of the troubled,
anxious look, which had so vividly portrayed the conflict of her soul, a sweet peace and calm serenity assured us that whatever might be the cause of the
change, the terrible conflict was past, and from that
hour increasing evidence gave us the blessed assurance, that her hope was founded on the Rock of Ages.




176          A  T O B IO GR-A P  Y 
A  few days afterwards, having occasion to pass
through the place where her parents resided, at her
request I called to give them the welcome intelligence, which I knew would fill their hearts with
rejoicing.
The mother wept for joy;-the father, with eyes
filled with tears and with a quivering lip, exclaimed,
"' O how manifestly do I see the hand of God in all
this."  He then related to me the experience of a
night-the very night, on which I had my first conversation with his daughter.  Feeling unwell, he had
retired to rest at an early hour, but his slumbers were
disturbed by a distressing dream.  HIe supposed that
his child was drowning before his face and that he was
unable to rescue her.  Filled with terror for her and
exhausted with his own ineffectual efforts to save her,
he awoke, in great distress, and could sleep no more.
While pondering on the dream, he was led to the inquiry, " should she be called into eternity, unprepared as she now is, what would be my feelings in
view of her future condition, and what my anguish in
reviewing my own unfaithfulness?"  That night he
spent in meditation and prayer, and I have always
believed, that to those prayers I was indebted for the
necessity that compelled me, contrary to my previous
intention, to commence my efforts with her, and for
the blessing that followed those efforts.
The deep feeling of interest increased. At the
commencement of the session, only one of the mem



PECULIARITY -OF THE RENVIVALL.  177
bers of the school —which then numbered but twentyfive,-was a professed follower of Christ, but for
weeks before its close, every individual indulged the
hope of acceptance through the Redeemer, and with
the exception of two or three who were quite young,
all have since given satisfactory evidence that this-was
no delusive hope.
This revival was characterized by a peculiarity
worth noticing.  With the exception of the conversion of Miss L., almost all in town and school, seemed
for a time to walk in darkness.  Though apparently
willing to give up all for Christ, they did not at first
enjoy the blessed evidence imparted to the soul, of
peace with God, resulting from a belief of sins forgiven.  They desired and determined to serve the
Lord, but the resolution was made in much mental
darkness.  Gradually as they persistently walked in
the path of duty, light broke upon their minds —
beams of mercy shed their radiance over their souls —
and they became established in the faith.




CHAPTER XXVI.
ESTABLISHMENT OF THE BLOOMFIELD FEMALE SEMINARY. —REVIVAL OF THAT YEAR.
"What, though strong temptations rise,
Fiery darts my way'opposeThreatening storms ascend the skies,
Or affliction's furnace glows?
God is faithful, God is true,
He will still my strength renew."
MY son, having concluded to accept my proposition
to unite with me in the establishment of a boardingschool, in Bloomfield, I was joined by my children
in the spring of 1837, and we commenced our joint
labors in May with twenty boarders-.
In the arrangements and instructions of the school
a similar course was pursued to that adopted in Middlebury, and as we now had the control of the family,
a short season was set apart, morning and evening,
for private devotion. This season the pupils were
required to spend alone in their rooms, in the hope
that while it was gratefully improved by those who
loved to pray, such a retirement, even for a few moments, might lead the minds of the thoughtless to God.
Early in December, the increased attention of the
young ladies to the morning instructions, and the
solemnity that pervaded our weekly Saturday morn



UNSEASONABLE LEVITY.                179
ing prayer meeting, filled many hearts with the hope
that the Spirit of God was again about to descend,
with His blessed influences, upon the school. A few
moments were devoted, every afternoon, by Christians
in the family, to supplicate God for such a result. I
held conversations with many of the pupils; some in
the family seemed almost ready to yield their hearts
to the Saviour.  But the holidays approached, and
the interest excited by the expectation of a reunion
with friends, and of partaking in the festivities of this
annual recess drove from their minds all serious feeling, and they returned to their studies apparently
more thoughtless than ever.
I had requested the pupils to prepare a composition to be read on the Wednesday succeeding their return to school, on the theme, "The experience of a
week," hoping that, as during this short period of
separation, one year would close up its account for
eternity, and a new one commence its existence, they
would be led to serious thoughts and feelings. Instead of this almost every composition was marked
by a levity entirely unsuited to such a season.  On
this account I declined to read them, and occupied
the time in remarks upon the feelings with which we
should examine the transactions of the past year, and
enter upon the duties and responsibilities of the new one.
Christians in school became more and more solemn,
and more earnest in prayer; the interest'gradually
increased, and at family worship on Sabbath evening,




180           A. UT O B O G R A PH Y.
much feeling was manifested. As I met my Bibleclass, numbering between twenty and thirty, on the
first Sabbath in the year my heart was too full to pursue the usual course of instruction. I told them the
feelings of my soul, my solicitude respecting them; I
reminded them of God's visit of mercy to that class a
year before; that when the revival commenced at
that time there were eight impenitent members of the
class, and that before its close, as we had reason to
hope, all of that little company had chosen the Lord
Jesus as their Friend and Portion. Now: as I glanced
my eye over the class, to my surprise I again numbered eight impenitent members.  The coincidence
was striking to every mind, and this circumstance
gave rise to many remarks which could not but affect
the feelings.  f believe that each one of that little
circle, as the question was asked, " Christian, what
will you do for the conversion of your impenitent
companions?' " Sinner, what will you do for the salvation of your own soul?" silently resolved, in that
moment of deep solemnity, to awake from her sleep
and call upon her God.
During the succeeding week the children of God
bowed in penitence before the mercy-seat, and pleaded
most earnestly for a blessing upon their own souls
and the souls of those who had no interest at the
throne of grace.
The- quarterly meeting of the Maternal Association
came, in its course, this week, and it was deemed ad-z




A SOLEMN MEETING.               181
visable to give a general invitation to the young ladies
in town who might be disposed to meet with the
mothlers and children to listen to the instructions of
Dr. J. and the Rev. Mr. WV., who had been invited
to address them.  As the meeting was held in the
school-room of the Seminary, all our pupils were
present.  The room was crowded, and the fixed and
solemn attention of every hearer gave evidence that
the Spirit of God was there.
On the following Sabbath the usual winter arrangement, of having the morning service in the church
and the afternoon service at West Bloomfield, commenced.  I had always disliked this plan, and at this
time was particularly annoyed by it, from the fear
that many of the hours of God's holy day would be
unprofitably spent; but God overruled even this circumstance for the advancement of his cause.  After
dinner I invited all those young ladies who had no hope
in the Saviour to meet me at four o'clock in my room,
and requested those who had hearts to pray, to retire,
at the same hour, to entreat the blessing of God on the
effort.
At the appointed hour eight young friends came to
visit me, and scarcely had I commenced speaking to
them of the priceless value of their immortal souls,
when the silent tear and suppressed sob gave evident
tokens that God himself was speaking to their souls,
by the still small voice of his Holy Spirit.  I read
to them a portion of Dr. Scudder's address to youth,




182           A  T OB IOGRAP  Y.
Christ knocking at the door    o the door of the heart," and
urged upon them the duty of opening that door to
Him at once, and of an immediate surrender of their
whole souls to the Saviour.  We could not sing; the
feelings of that moment were too deep for any expression save that of prayer, and together we bowed
before God, and asked for mercy.  Solemn and silent
that weeping band retired to their solitary rooms,
feeling all the gloom and distress which arises from
the reception of the truth into the heart, that the
curse of the Almighty rests upon the soul of the sinner; and as the supplicating cry went up from many
hearts, thus smitten with a conviction of the evil of
sin and the fear of the wrath to come, every Christian
felt her soul go forth in earnest petitions to her heavenly Father for mercy and pardon on these wanderers
from God.  During these moments of deep solemnity
A. E., as she thought, submitted her heart to Jesus;
and as all assembled around the domestic altar for the
evening sacrifice, an infidel could not have doubted
that the Spirit of God was there.
Our Sabbaths were always solemn seasons, but the
solemnity of this day spoke to every heart.  A statement of the exercises of one Sabbath will show in
what manner truth was brought to bear upon the
mind.  After breakfast the members of the Bibleclass seated themselves around a table with a teacher
to aid them, and spent an hour in studying their
Bible lesson.  The class met for recitation in the




A HOLY WEEK.                  183
afternoon, and after its close I was employed, till
summoned to the evening repast, in conversation with
individuals, or with several together, as seemed most
desirable. At evening worship the pupils were examined by my son respecting the morning's sermon,
and such remarks were made as were naturally suggested by the subjects then presented. A hymn and
prayer closed the exercises. These frequent changes
prevented weariness, and at the same time truth was
continually impressed upon the mind.
These Sabbath exercises, in connection with the
preaching of the gospel, were greatly blessed to the
conviction and conversion of many dear youth to God,
and we generally found that their serious impressions
commenced during the hours of the holy day.
As day after day passed, on the following week,
the Spirit of God gave increasing evidence that He
was verily in our midst, making the most trifling solemn, and: leading others to cast themselves on the
Saviour for pardon and salvation.  With trembling
anxiety we watched the progress of the work, for
while truth was producing its legitimate effect upon
the hearts of some, we could not but fear that others
would be affected only by sympathy, and really suppose that they had feelings which existed more in the
imagination than the heart. The trial of another
week showed the reasonableness of our fears.  I look
back upon that week as one of the most remarkable in
its experience of any through which, in any revival,
IE ever passed.




CHAPTER XXVII.
SCOTCH ELLEN.-ALICE E. —COLORED  CONVERT.
"Yes, I will be forever thine,
Bought with the price of blood,
My feeble powers, shall all combine,
To serve the living God.
I consecrate my all to Thee,
Here at the mercy-seat,
Poor as the offering may be,
I lay it at thy feet."
A CIRCUMSTANCE that occurred at this time, led us
to fear for a while that God had forsaken us, and we
were consequently filled with dismay; but even this
was overruled for the furtherance of the blessed work.
We had in the family a Scotch servant girl,-a
chambermaid and waiter-whose very eccentric conduct and singular conversation, awakened our suspicions that she was under the influence of some powerful hallucination that had unsettled her mind. From
general remarks made by her,-for the truth of which
I can not vouch-I learned that she was living at
Rockaway on Long Island, when the Mexico was
wrecked on that coast;-that she witnessed the dead
bodies as they were washed ashore, strewed along the
beach and that she then determined to exert her influence to have a chapel erected on the spot, for poor
mariners.  But in this effort she had hitherto failed,




SCOTCH  ELLEN.                 185
and she now besought me to address a letter to Queen
Victoria, asking her to advance a sum sufficient for the
accomplishment of the work.  Disappointed in her
application to me, she persecuted the young missionary-who was during that winter performing pastoral
duty for Mr. S., while he was absent in a southern
city, seeking restoration to health, —and with urgent
solicitations sought to enlist him in this "' benevolent
object."  When repulsed by him she became very
anxious to unite with the church, repeatedly calling
upon him, until wearied with her importunities, he
was obliged to close his doors against her.  This excited her almost to frenzy, and for several days we
felt it necessary to watch her with careful attention.
It was our custom on the Sabbath, while at the teatable, for each one in turn, to repeat a verse from the
Bible, in proof of some subject proposed in the morning. As I was about to commence this exercise on
the succeeding Sabbath, noticing a general disposition
to levity, which the pupils seemed unable to repress,
I looked around to ascertain the cause, and as my
eye rested on Ellen, the picture she presented upset
my gravity and overcame the seriousness and sadness
of my own spirit.  She had dressed herself with most
elaborate care and appeared in flounces and furbelows.
Around her head she had wound a stiff white muslin
apron, with a broad full ruffle that encircled her face,
and which was fancifully arranged in a large bow on
one side, —the ruffle standing out around the ends,




186           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
while the top was surmounted with a huge bow of blue
ribbon.
This fixture, placed on a head by no means small,
with a face like a full blown red rose and ornamented
by two or three monstrous puffs of bright orange
colored hair,-all overtopping a body of no mean dimensions, as it was. poised on one foot, the better to
catch the voices of those most distant from her, presented a spectacle too striking for the gravity of any
at table, and for a few moments we were unable to
proceed.  At night she refused t6 retile to rest;-and
though she refused to the last, compliance with our
wishes that she would leave the family, the fear that
she would become a raving maniac, was sucLh that on
Monday morning my son compelled her to accompany
him to New York.  She refused to go directly to her
friends, but " would call," she said, "on the British
consul and request him to write to the Queen, in behalf of her new chapel."  After this she returned occasionally, and annoyed us by her visits.
Notwithstanding all our efforts to turn the minds of
the young ladies from  this subject, the oddities and
strange conduct of this girl, wholly absorbed their attention and thoughts, and I could but exclaim as I
looked upon their altered appearance after her departure, "And Satan came also among them,' — and
diligently had he performed his work.  There was a
general spirit of levity among those, who a few days
before were weeping and trembling on account of sin.




SEEMING  VICTORY  OF SATAN.  187
With but few exceptions I had little confidence in the
reality of the conversions of those, who a week before
had professed to love the Saviour. They were almost as
trifling in their conduct as they had ever been, and
exhibited little of the unction that distinguishes the
new born soul.
Christians were alarmedc-discouraged, —and my
own soul was oppressed with a burden that was almost insupportable.  " In my distress, I called upon
the Lord" for direction and assistance, but lIe did not
appear for our relief. The week passed without any
favorable change, though it produced the effect of
humbling the children of God.  I met them  at our
usual season for prayer on Saturday morning, and
read to them a few verses from the first part of the
fifth chapter of Isaiah;' Now will I sing to my wellbeloved, a song of my beloved touching his vineyard," &c., and then drew a comparison between that
and the preceding weeks; and endeavored to show
them the causes of this difference —directing their attention to the artifices of the adversary to turn their
thoughts from God, and the ease with which he had
succeeded in his efforts.  It was evident, I said, that
we had grieved the Holy Spirit and that he had departed,-and I earnestly besought Christians to examine their hearts anew, to ascertain what delayed the
blessing, and to feel more deeply that the situation of
their impenitent young friends was perilous. I then
proposed that all who could pray, should engage to




188           A UT OB IO GR A PHY.
spend all the time not necessarily devoted to other
duties, from  Saturday to Monday, in deep, fervent
and humble prayer, for the return of His Spirit to our
hearts, and requested all who were willing to do this,
to rise and sing with me, the following stanza:
"Here, in thy courts I leave my vow,
And Thy rich grace record;
Witness ye saints, who hear me now
If I forsake the Lord."
It was a moment of deep and portentous interest;
I felt that eternal destinies were involved in the fulfillment of that vow. From that morning all trifling
ceased. The Spirit of God drove out the tempter and
took possession of their hearts. Strengthened for the
work that I felt I was called upon to perform, I spent
all of Saturday afternoon and evening and a part of
the Sabbath, in visiting and conversing with every
pupil in the family, and in consequence of these conversations which were designed to search deeply into
the heart, five of their number relinquished the frail
hope to which they had clung, and which they now
saw had not produced the peaceable fruits of righteousness.
Among these were A. E., and L. E. Both had
again and again deceived themselves in their hope of
salvation, and when they were compelled once more
to admit that a deceitful heart had led them astray,
they could scarcely endure the thought. The effect
on L. E. was to rouse all the rebellious feelings of a




INDECISIO N.                 189
proud heart. The struggle was severe and long continued, but at last she yielded, and sat meek and
lowly at the feet of her Saviour.
For several days the feelings of A. E. were those
of utter hopelessness and wretchedness.  She wept
and prayed —but the gloom of midnight darkness was
gathered around her soul.  She dared not attempt to
trust her soul with God; she was sure that He would
not receive one who had so often mocked Him.  On
Monday morning Doctor J. visited the school, and the
Holy Spirit seemed to direct and bless- every word
that he uttered.  After he left us, the classes were
called as usual to their respective recitation rooms,
but each teacher felt constrained by the overwhelming
manifestation of feeling in her class, to close her book
and bow with them before the mercy-seat, to plead for
the salvation of souls.
On Tuesday morning Doctor J. again visited us,
accompanied by the Rev. Mr. W.  After addressing
the school, they conversed individually, with all whose
minds were deeply impressed.  Again we spent the
day in prayer,-and thus passed most of the week,occupying a few moments in attempts at recitations
and the remainder of the time in religious instruction
and prayer.  A. E.'s distress increased.  She felt as
though this was God's last call to her soul, —yet she
held back from the full surrender of herself to Him. I
shall not soon forget in what anguish of spirit she
sought my counsel and prayers, at the close of one of




190          A UT OB IOGRAPIY
these days of mental distress. After urging her to
come immediately to the fixed determination to cast
herself just as she was, on the mercy of her Saviour
for pardon, in the fullness of my heart I exclaimed,
"Oh, Alice, I feel as though I could take you in
my arms and carry you to the cross of Christ, to the
fountain which he hath opened for sin."
"Oh, do, Mrs. C.," said she, bursting aloud into
tears; "' take me there —oh, take me there."
"Christian friends," I replied, "can lead you to
the brink of the fountain, but you must step in. We
can not perform that work for you; but there is One
mighty and ready to help.";
With deep anxiety we watched the progress of conviction in her soul. Life or death depended upon the
choice that she was about to make. She knew this,
and yet she lingered and hesitated.
In a note which my son addressed to her, he urged
her no longer to " halt between two opinions," but to
come at once to somne decision-to commit that decision to writing-to sign her name to it, and then carry
it to Jesus, as the solemn, the final determination of
her soul.  In a conversation that he held with her
during the same evening, he presented her with two
resolutions, diametrically opposite in their character,
one of which she should adopt.  When he proposed
the decision to return to the world, to resist the influences of the Holy Spirit of God, to " cast away fear,
and restrain prayer," and to bid farewell for ever to




D EC iI S0.                191
heaven and her Redeemer, her whole soul shrank
from such a decision; " then," said he, C" why not at
once solemnly subscribe your name to the surrender
of yourself to the Lord for time and for eternity?
Choose which path you will henceforth pursue before
you retire to rest."
This startling proposition brought her at length to
feel her guilt and danger in delaying, and the necessity of immediate submission; and we trust that she
did then give herself to Christ, to be His for everwilling, as she expressed it, to do any thing, or to
be any thing, if she might be permitted to devote her
life to His service.  WYe trust she made this decision
in the sincerity of her soul, and her subsequent life
has confirmed this hope.
After this week of deep and powerful interest, the
feelings of the pupils subsided into a calm though serious state. They returned to their regular studies,
which had not been wholly neglected, but they found
time to attend two prayer-meetings every day. Many
indulged the hope, during this interesting season,
that they had begun to live the Christian life, and
most of them, by their subsequent course, gave
cheering evidence that the Holy Spirit had begun a
good work in their souls, that would be perfected in
heaven.  With the exception of a primary class of
little children, there was scarcely one in the school
who did not profess to love the Saviour.
Many cases might be recorded as interesting as




192           AUTOBI O B I RA PRY.
those already given, but with one other I close the
account of this blessed work.
P., a colored woman, had several months previous
to this, been a servant in our family, and for two
years had been a member of the church of Christ.
Her perfect indifference and inattention to family and
public worship during her residence with us, led me
often to expostulate with her, but without effect.
Soon after leaving the family her health failed, and
she had all the symptoms of confirmed consumption.
Alarmed at her danger, she was led to examine the
foundation of her hope, and found herself unsupported by. the sustaining grace that she expected;
her hope was like the spider's web; the fear of eternity destroyed it.  In her distress she came to us,
with the hope that " some of the meetings might do
her good."  I found her in great anxiety respecting
the salvation of her soul.  She had wandered from
God —was, as she apprehended, rapidly approaching
the grave, and feared she was unprepared to meet her
Judge. She remained in this state of mind through
the week, attending all the meetings, and listening
with fixed attention to every word of instruction,
when, at its close, she gave herself, as she hoped,
I" into the hands of her Saviour," to have Him do
with her just as He pleased.  She remained with us
some time, eagerly seizing every opportunity of listening to the Word of God, to religious books, and
tracts, and it was pleasant to see with how much in



GRATITUDE.                  193
terest, those who were commencing their Christian
course, sat down beside this poor ignorant girl, to
read to her the word of her God and their God, and
those little messengers of mercy that speak of their
common Saviour.  The health of P. was finally restored, and she still lives to honor her profession by a
consistent life and conversation.
With heartfelt gratitude to our heavenly Father,
for this merciful visitation did we unite in the song,' The Lord hath done great things for us,"  To Him
be all the glory. Here let my journal speak the
feelings of my heart recorded at that time.'' Truly my cup of blessings runneth over, and I
will praise the name of the Lord for ever. I have
earnestly desired that this Institution might be emphatically the Lord's school, and he has owned and
blessed it.  If He will permit me to be the instrument, in any way, of cultivating mind' for His service,
of leading the youthful wanderer to the fold of the
Great Shepherd, I will bless Him for all the trials by
the way, by which he has led me to such a service.
None who have not been placed in similar circumstances, can know the feelings of that teacher's heart,
who bows with her youthful charge before the throne
of grace, and listens to one and another of these loved
ones, as they come with their affecting errands, to
our common Father. These are among the sweetest
moments of my life, and here, in the midst of our interesting family my heart feels at home."
O




CHAPTER XXVIII.
SUMMER  OF 1838.-MISS  A. J.
"Not mnaky lives, but only one have we;
One, only one;Hlow sacred should that one life, ever be;That narrow span!
Day after day filled up with blessed toil,
Hour after hour, still bringing in new spoil.
DURING the summer of 1838, and the succeeding
winter, some of our pupils gave pleasing evidence of
consecration to the Saviour's service. Among them
was one, amiable in disposition and irreproachable in
conduct, who had not hitherto felt the necessity of the
application of Christ's blood to cleanse her soul from
sin. Informed by a young friend that her sister was
indulging the hope that her sins were forgiven for
Jesus' sake, in the midst of a conflict of contending
emotions, the great question arose in her mind,': what
must I do to be saved?"  She spent the sleepless
hours of the night in tears, in vain endeavoring to
solve the problem of acceptance with God. She saw
clearly that she was a sinner; —she felt too that she
was justly condemned by God's holy law.  "How
then can a man be just with God?" She turned to
her past life, but no beam of light irradiated the
darkness that filled her soul.  How could she make




CONVERSION  OF MISS J. A.    195
herself fit to approach a holy God, whose laws she
had so often violated? Her goodness on which she
had so confidently relied, had "passed away like the
morning cloud." Rising in the morning unrefreshed
and unhappy, she sought in a retired apartment, the
peace which none but a reconciled Father can impart.
Again and again she read His gracious promises and
implored His mercy. Discouraged at length by her
unsuccessful efforts to obtain the peace for which her
soul agonized and prayed, she burst into tears and
springing from her seat threw herself once more upon
her knees before God, with all the intensity of an earnest spirit, exclaiming, "Just as I am I come to theein all my vileness; —Lord take me and cleanse me in
the blood of the Redeemer, I give up all hope of making myself better; —I yield myself soul and body to
Thy service forever." This simple language of the
heart fulfilled the requirements of the gospel, and here
our young friend found the peace so long sought in
vain.
To how many souls does the very simplicity of the
salvation of Jesus prove an obstacle, sometimes almost
insurmountable.  We look for some great work to be
accomplished by us in the way of preparation, hoping
by such means to recommend ourselves to the favor
of our heavenly Father, but driven from our vain
refuges and dependencies, we at last turn to Jesus as
the only hope of the sinner, and trusting in the crucified One, find pardon and salvation.




CHAPTER XXIX.
PROFESSOR P.'S DEATH.-MY OWN ILLNESS.
"Saviour, I look to Thee,
Be not thou far from me,'Mid storms that lower;
On me Thy care bestow,
Thy loving-kindness show,
Thine arms around me throw
This trying hour.
Saviour, I look to Thee,
Thine shall the glory be,
Hearer of prayer I
Thou art my only aid,
On Thee my soul is stayed,
Nought can my heart invade,
While thou art near."
NECESSARY attention to domestic duties, during the
spring vacation of 1839, so exhausted my physical
strength that I was quite unfitted for my summer
work. I however entered upon it, but scarcely had
the examination of our pupils and the arrangement of
the classes been completed, e'er I was summoned to
the dying bed of my sister's husband. I found him
scarcely able to give me a sign of recognition. To
my remark, I" you are very near your rest, brother,"
his reply was, "Yes, —-sometimes light-sometimes
dark-heaven." To the question put by his pastor, " If
he felt that his trust was in Jesus?" he said, "' Yes,"
and these were apparently his only lucid intervals.




DEATH  OF PROFESSOR  P.              197
Just before his departure, he commenced singing a low
plaintive air so sweetly, that it seemed as if his spirit
had already parted from the body, to unite in the song
of praise in heaven. An hour passed and he was with
God.
As I stood by that bed of death, I could not but
think how perfectly adapted are the consolations of the
Christian religion to every class of men. The man
of learning, of towering intellect-the babe in Christthe illiterate son of poverty-all drink at the same
fount, all are supported and comforted by the same
simple truths. Jesus Christ and him crucified, is the
theme that imparts peace to every soul. Surely, this
speaks its Divine origin.
WVhat a breach was made in that domestic circle!
Who but God, could speak comfort to that widowed
heart?  Who but her heavenly Father who had inflicted the blow, enabled her to pass through those trying scenes, herself the victim of disease and suffering
of no ordinary character-her children left destitute —
bereft of father and home?  We laid the remains of
the beloved one in the narrow house,-left the eldest
son with friends in the city, and accompanied by the
afflicted widow and her remaining children, I hastened
back to Bloomfield, where my duties and responsibilities in the Seminary, demanded my presence. But
nature had been too severely taxed, and disease was
preying upon my system.
During the July recess, a small party of friends




198          AUTOBIO GRAP ITY
accompanied me to Boston, Nahant, &c., in hopes
that I might be recruited by change of air and scene,
but I returned little benefited by the excursion. For
three months I suffered intense agony from an abscess,
which sufferings but for the powerful anodynes that
were administered, would have destroyed this frail
tenement. My recovery was pronounced hopeless by
three attending physicians, and yet through the influence of disease and medicine, I was too much affected by delirium or stupor to be sensible of my
danger.  Sometimes, a lucid interval with a few moments' relief from pain would occur, and as the thought
of death would present itself to my mind, it was invariably met by the verse, " I shall not die, but live,
and declare the works of the Lord."' To the watchful care of my beloved children and friends, do I consider that under Providence I owe my recovery from
this distressing illness.
With an enfeebled frame I recommenced my duties
at the beginning of the next term, feeling more deeply
than ever my nearness to eternity, and my obligations
to my heavenly Father, and that what I expected to
do for the cause of Christ, must be done quickly. I
felt pressed on to new and continual efforts.  Soon
after the commencement of the term, my soul was
drawn out in frequent supplications to the throne of
grace, for the descent of the Holy Spirit on our school
and family, but none around me seemed to participate
in my feelings. Professors of religion as they looked
upon the thoughtless ones with whom they daily asso



RAST-DAY.                  199
ciated, appeared to forget that those friends so pleasant in their social intercourse, would soon have passed
their probationary season, and that then the redemption of their souls would cease forever. Day after
day I endeavored to impress religious truths on the
minds of our pupils, but the careless and indifferent
air of some and the impatience with which others listened, showed but too plainly that God was not in all
their thoughts. Often did I retire to my closet with
the melancholy exclamation of the Prophet, " If ye
will not hear me, my soul shall weep in secret places
for your pride."
Weeks passed on and there seemed to be a small
increase of feeling in the hearts of a few, but the holidays with all their frivolity and festivity, drove even
this little seriousness from their minds, and they returned so thoughtless that unbelief suggested that it
would be impossible during that winter, to excite any
interest in the subject of religion.  This desponding
feeling was, however, immediately met by the question, " Can it be that one who has been corrected
and disciplined as I have been, and who has access to
such precious promises for encouragement to perseverance, can now yield to the temptations of the adversary?"  I dared not do it, and again I sought
strength and aid from my heavenly Father.
The first Monday in January, 1840, was observed
by the church as a day of fasting and prayer, with
special reference to the expected Presbyterial visitation during the following week.  For three days of




200           AUTO B IO G R AP HY.
that week, we had preaching in the afternoon and
evening and a general solemnity pervaded the minds
of the community.  Christians in the family began to
awake from their spiritual sleep; there were deep
searchings of heart and renewed dedications to God;
and the minds of the impenitent were evidently open
to receive the truth.
It was at this moment so full of interest and importance, that again my heart began to fail and I found
myself shrinking from duty,-really fearing lest the
increased labors and excitement of such a season of
intense anxiety, should lay me in my grave. Every
feeling rose in opposition; unbelief suggested that my
life was too important to my family- to the school;that such a sacrifice could not be required. Well was
it for me, that my heavenly Father provoked at my
selfishness, did not set me aside and refuse me the
privilege of laboring in His blessed cause. I became
alarmed at my own selfish feelings, and in the retirement of my closet, searched into the inmost recesses
of my heart, and I trust repented of my great sin;nor did I leave the mercy-seat until I was willing to
sacrifice ease, health, and life itself if need be, that I
might be permitted to be the instrument of good to
one soul. From that time I felt impelled to " go forward," and I bless God that he enabled me continually to feel, that all my interests were committed entirely to His keeping and that while He should continue me on the earth, my work should be to do the
will of my Father in heaven.




CHAPTER XXX.
INTERESTING  CASES.-W. J. —H. T.-M. J.
"People of the living God,
I have sought the world around,
Paths of sin and sorrow trod,
Peace and comfort nowhere f6und;
Now to you my spirit turns,
Turns a fugitive unblest;
Brethren Il when your altar burns
Oh, receive me into rest."
I HAD, previously to this, conversed with several of
the pupils, but I now determined to endeavor to enter
the heart of every one in school. God blessed the first
effort, and three among the most interesting of our pupils, became exceedingly distressed on account of their
sins, coming, day after day, to be directed in the way
of life. The promises of the gospel-its urgent in-'vitations, were presented to them; their rebellion
against God, in rejecting the only atoning sacrifice,
and their consequent helplessness, was pressed upon
them; but to every entreaty to cast themselves at
once on the Saviour for pardon, their plea was, the
way to the cross was all dark, they could not find
the Saviour, they did not believe He would have
mercy on them.
After a Sabbath of much anxiety, I was requested
by a young friend to converse again with W. J., whom




202           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
she had left in great agitation; I found her alone, bowed
down before her God, and there she trusted that she
had found a Saviour. I had a long and interesting
conversation with her, and was much pleased with
the docility with which she received the message of
grace into her soul; and her conduct in after life
strengthened the hope that this was indeed an unreserved surrender of herself to her Redeemer's service.
I then sent for M. J.  Poor girl! No hope
dawned upon her mind; she could not believe that
Jesus would receive her if she made the attempt to
serve Him, and she seemed determined not to make
the attempt. She was greatly distressed, and when I
told her that W. J. had submitted to God, she wept
aloud. I prayed with her, and then urged her to
raise her own voice in supplication for pardon, through
the blood of the crucified One.  Instead of an audible
expression of her feelings, she prayed in a whisper,
and seemed to be earnestly crying for mercy. As she
ceased, from time to time, I repeated some promise
calculated to encourage her to trust in the Redeemer.
I continued with her an hour, and she still continued
kneeling, declaring that she could not retire to rest
with her present feelings. After again urging her
to faith in Jesus, I left her, and found a solemn company assembled in the study.
W. J. was weeping with a heart full of love for
her new found Saviour.  Near her sat H. T., with
her face buried in her hands, shaking with emotion,




THE UNPARDONABLE  SIN.    203
while two sympathizing teachers were seated beside
them, scarcely knowing what to do or say.
The distress of H. was almost agonizing. A sense
of her great sinfulness weighed upon her soul, and
she was sure that God would never pardon her; I
said to her, "' H., there is but one sin which shuts the
door of mercy upon the sinner's soul, and I trust that
you have not yet committed that sin."
" I don't know, Mrs. C., I am afraid I have."
She then related a circumstance of her early life
which had led her to indulge this fear. When about
nine years of age, she was one day reading her Bible,
and came to the verse " all manner of sin shall be
forgiven unto men, but the blasphemy against the
HIoly Ghost shall not be forgiven. And whosover
speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be
forgiven him; but whosoever speaketh against the
Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in
this world, neither in the world to come." After
reading it over, she said to herself,'" I dare commit this sin."
She was frightened at her own remark as soon as
it was uttered, but the circumstance soon passed from
her mind, and was not recalled till three or four
years afterwards, while listening to a sermon on the
sin of resisting the Spirit's influence. She then concluded that her condemnation was sealed, and the
effect on her mind was to close her heart to conviction,
and to produce misanthropic feelings.  To no individ



204          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
ual had she revealed the sin of her early days; had
she done so, she might have found relief, and repented
of her transgressions.  But now she felt certain, that
so long as she continued to indulge the belief that
mercy could not reach her case, there would be no
repentance; she therefore resolved to confide her secret to me. This communication gave me direct access to her heart, and I was soon enabled to convince
her that had she really committed the unpardonable
sin, instead of now mourning over its commission, she
she would be too hardened to fear deserved punishment, and too indifferent to seek for mercy. The
feelings of which she was then conscious were a sufficient refutation of the fears excited on that account.
This conversation in a measure relieved the terrible
distress that preyed upon her spirit, and gave her
some hope that even so great a sinner as she felt herself to be, might be benefited by the atonement of
Christ. It was a late hour when those two girls retired
to pass a sleepless night.
Monday came, and Tuesday passed, and still there
was no change of feeling. At evening gH. came to
my room and begged that she might speak to me.' O, tell me what I shall do, Mrs. C., I can not
live so.;'
I knew that her situation was perilous; she was
almost tempted, in despair, to drive away feeling,
and, as she vainly hoped, distress, from her mind. I
said to her,'; H., I have urged every argument that
the Bible presents, to induce you to trust in the Sa



SOLEMN COVENANT.                205
viour; I have repeated promises that might affect the
most unbelieving, but they have produced no effect upon
your heart; I have one plan more to propose, and with
God's blessing, it may lead you to the great decision.
Go to your room and read seriously and attentively
such and such promises (repeating several to her), read
till you do believe that God is able and willing to
perform them; then take the dedication of the returning penitent, in Doddridge's "Rise and Progress,'
and read it attentively; carefully count the cost of
giving up all for Christ, and settle the question seriously, whether you can relinquish every thing for
Him. If you feel that you can do this, then take
pen and paper, write down a dedication of yourself
to God, sign your name to it, as to a solemn covenant, and read it deliberately before your Father in
heaven, upon your bended knees, telling Him  that
with His help, you promise to serve Him for ever,
and asking, with confidence, for the influences of the
Holy Spirit to renew your heart."
She was struck by the singularity of the proposal,
and promised to attempt it; and her prayer, while
with me seemed to be an unreserved consecration of
herself to the Redeemer. The next day she came to
tell me that she had complied with my request, and
her smiling, speaking countenance assured me that
there was peace within.
In the meantime M. J. had become worn out with
intensity of feeling; sleepless nights and anxious
days almost laid her upon a bed of sickness. At my




206          A UT OB IO G R AP HY.
recommendation she followed the same course that H.
had adopted, with the same happy result; she also
found peace in believing.
C. L. had been for more than three weeks weeping
on account of her sins. The daughter of Christian
parents, her father a missionary to the dark and ignorant portions of our own land, I felt assured that
earnest prayer ascended daily from the domestic circle
for this child of the church, so far separated from
kindred and from home. When I urged her to trust
in the Redeemer, she would reply that she could not
find the way.  Once she said, " There is a mountain
between God and my soul so high and dark that my
weak faith can not surmount it." There she remained
-just there —day after day.  Nothing said to her
seemed to give her any assistance. I trembled lest,
discouraged, she should turn from God and salvation:
with much prayer, and with much anxiety as to the
result, I proposed to her also the plan that had been
so successful in the cases of M. and H.  She seemed
interested by the proposal, and taking a copy of Doddridge with her-for she was not at that time a
member of our family-she spent the whole of the
next day at home, in her chamber. When questioned
as to the cause of her absence, she replied, "I went
to my room, as you directed me, and there, I hope, I
gave myself to the Saviour, but I could not go to
school that day."  Her subsequent history gave
pleasing evidence that this was the work of the Holy
Spirit.




CHAPTER XXXI.
REVIVAL IN 1839-40.-R. E.-L. A. —  RESULTS.
"Serve God before the world; let Him not go,
Until thou hast a blessing; then resign
The whole unto him; and remember who
Prevailed by wrestling, e're the sun did shine;
Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sins,
Then journey on, and have an eye on heaven."
R. E., a young lady of thirteen, came to us at the
commencement of the session from  a family entirely
devoted to the world. She had passed much of her
time in the city of New York, though a resident of
the country, and for a season previous to her connection with our Institution, had attended a fashionable
boarding school, where once a week the pupils were
amused with fancy balls, for every one of which a new
dress must be prepared. At one of these balls she
was attired in the costume of a Turkish Sultana, and
the dress that she wore on that occasion cost, as she
said, one hundred dollars. On almost every evening
that she was not engaged at the ball, she was taken
to the theatre or some other place of amusement.
It may easily be imagined what was her preparation of mind and heart to enter into our family, and
listen to religious instruction; yet at an early stage
of the revival, her mind became impressed with the




208           AUTO B IO G R AP -I Y.
importance of the subject. It seemed to open a new
world to her view. She had lived, she said, long
enough for mere pleasure,-it was time that she began to think.  Of the plan of salvation through a
crucified Redeemer, she was wholly ignorant, and it
was very interesting to see with what child-like simplicity she listened to the simple truths of the gospel,
as they were unfolded to her mind. They came to
her with all the freshness of novelty. " The Lord
opened her heart to attend to the things spoken" to
her, and she did not delay to yield herself wholly to
the Saviour.  There were no excuses offered,-no
cavilings at the plan of salvation,-no fears expressed
lest she should not feel the requisite amount of conviction,-no doubts as to the power and willingness
of Jesus to save her. With the dependence of a child
she trusted in His promises and cast herself on His
mercy.
Before she had done this, and while her mind was
agitated by the thought, " what shall I do when I return home, if I become a Christian?" she wrote to
her mother and fully expressed her feelings. Her reply, dictated either by policy or respect for religion,
expressed her desire that her child might truly become a Christian, and R. was thereby greatly relieved
from much anxiety.
When one of her brothers heard of the change in
her feelings, —for as soon as she decided to live for
Christ she made it known to all her friends,-he wrote




OPPOSITION.                 209
her several letters expressive of his anger at the determination that she had avowed.  He warned her
" not to listen to the instruction of her fanatical priestridden teachers, who had their object in getting up
such a state of things," declaring that he would write
to her father, who was then absent, to remove her from
school. I was much pleased with her reply which she
requested me to read.  She spoke of her determination to live a Christian life, and assured him that she
did not act rashly or unadvisedly as her mother already knew and approved her choice: with affectionate earnestness she urged him to forsake the world,
and live for eternity. After this he wrote to her
mother, that we were intending "I to compel her to join
the church." This brought a letter to R. from her
mother, in which she referred to the information communicated by her son and hoped she would defer such
a step till time should test the sincerity of her conversion, then if she wished to make a profession of religion, she should not be opposed. She urged her to
be a Christian in heart, and begged that she would
not I"put her hand to the plow and look back."  I
was pleased with the letter and could not but hope
that the mother knew something of Christian feeling.
Letter after letter was received from irreligious
friends, yet she still held fast to the cross of her Redeemer.  A few days afterwards she said to me, " I
fear my brother will come and take me home, and he
will talk to me all the while about my religion, and I




210           AUTOBIO GRAPHY.
am afraid that I shall answer him in a wrong spirit;"
then after a pause, she said with a smile, "' But I can
take my Bible and read that, and then I shan't heed
him."
She remained until the close of the session, but was
not allowed to return to the Seminary. After her return home, all correspondence with teachers and pupils
was interdicted, and we saw her no more. Several
months afterwards I received a letter from her, declaring the continuance of her affection for me and her increasing love to the Saviour. I replied to this clandestine letter, as I believed it to be, exhorting her to
hold fast her confidence in God, and directed my reply
to the care of her father.  She never wrote again,
but I trust that she is now, as the head of her own
family, fulfilling her high duties and responsibilities.
L. A., an interesting pupil of eighteen, was of a
peculiarly amiable disposition, and during a season of
religious interest in the school the previous year,
evinced great tenderness of conscience and much feeling on the subject. From the commencement of this
revival, she had manifested great opposition of heart,
was unwilling to attend meetings or to hear conversation calculated to show her her character and situation.  Week after week she had been the subject of
earnest supplication, and as one after another had
yielded herself to her Saviour we almost feared that
L. had repulsed the Spirit of God from her heart. In
this state of feeling she visited New York. Her re



CHURCH-FAST.                 211
turn was anxiously expected as we feared that the little
impression made upon her mind would be certainly
obliterated. Another young lady had also eagerly accepted the invitation of friends and had gone to spend
a few days at home.
A church fast was appointed for the 18th of February.  Our pastor had proposed that each family, on
that day of fasting, should select certain individuals
as the subject of special prayer, and these two young
friends were among the number chosen by our family.
That was a solemn day,-a day to be remembered
through eternity. The morning was spent by the
several members of the family, in the retirement of
their chambers alone with God; —and God was verily
in our midst.  I had proposed to spend an hour previous to the public services that were to be held in the
afternoon, in prayer with the teacher and pupils.
Half an hour before the time for this meeting, the two
objects of our solicitude returned from different parts
of the country. The circumstance was too striking to
pass unnoticed, and when we met to offer our supplications at the throne of grace, with renewed earnestness did prayer ascend for these beloved ones.
M. was entirely overcome by her feelings and wept
aloud, while L. sat unmoved evidently struggling with
emotions that she was determined to repress.
The day passed, but no one of those for whom we
had made intercession had been given to our prayers.
My faith began to waver, and as I pondered on what




212          AU TO B IO GR A PI Y.
might be the cause of such a failure, I came to the
conclusion that my unfaithfulness had come up as a
mountain between God and their souls. I tried to
repent-to renew the dedication of myself to God.
Every effort plunged me deeper in darkness. I dared
not restrain prayer for those for whom I had felt so
much concern, and yet the fear haunted me that my
prayers would prove a curse to their souls. I believed
this revival would cease if I continued my efforts and
yet I was impelled to continue exertions. No one,
unless placed in similar circumstances, can have an
idea of the distress of my mind. To no earthly friend
did I dare to reveal it. I began to doubt the genuineness of every conversion in the family and school, and
though I did not relinquish hope for myself, I really
believed that unless I was removed no good could visit
any soul under my influence.
I continued in this state of mind for several days,
when I opened my whole heart to my pastor, for I felt
that I could not endure such distressing emotions another day.
After I had finished my "tale of woe," Mr. S.
laughed, and said, " I am rejoiced that you have told
me this; now I am convinced that this is Satan's
work, for I have had just such temptations during
the past week. Depend upon it, you have been
yielding to the Tempter's power." The long conversation that ensued, strengthened me much, and I was




L. S STRUG G LES.              213
from that time enabled to resist what I then saw was
sent as a trial of faith and patience.
That same day we learned that one of the number,
for whose salvation so much interest had been excited,
had become a child of God. Thursday, of the following week, was observed as a day of prayer for our
colleges and seminaries of learning, and then I noticed
a great struggle in L.'s feelings, in consequence of
which, after the evening meeting I sent for her. At
the first question that I put to her, " Are you yet
resisting the spirit of God?" she burst into tears, and
sobbed as if her heart would break. She was sure
that she had sinned beyond the reach of mercy; she
confessed the dreadful opposition of her heart to God.
cc Oh, said she, " I am not the same being that I
was last winter; then I was ready to listen to instruction-now my soul rises in rebellion." After endeavoring to make the plan of salvation plain and simple
to her mind, and to show the perfect adaptation of
this plan to her guilt and necessities, I said,
"' Now, L., can -you not trust such a Saviour, who
declares that His blood cleanseth from all sin?"
" I think I can," was the prompt reply.
"Will you do it?"
"; I will, Mrs. C., I will trust Him to-night."
I prayed with her, and she, in broken petitions,
attempted to cry for mercy. As she arose to leave the
room, she threw herself upon my neck in great agitation, kissed me, laid her head upon my shoulder, and




214           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
remained weeping for several minutes, and then, with
another kiss, she rushed from the room. She spent
the night, as her sister informed me, in prayer, in
weeping, and in reading the Bible.  In the morning
she was ready, for the first time, to attend the early
prayer-meeting, and as she was leaving the house of
prayer she approached the pastor, and offered him her
hand. To his question,
" Have you yet given your heart to the Saviour?"
she replied, very decidedly,' Yes, sir, I have."
From that time the change in her feelings was so
markedl that no one could doubt its reality.  Like
Mary, humbly she took her seat at the feet of Jesus,
to be instructed in the way of salvation.
She entered upon her Christian duties like one
who had " counted the cost," and knew where to apply for strength to perform them. No doubts clouded
her mind, for she trusted in her Saviour in the simplicity of faith, and seemed at all times to feel that
now, having cast her soul on Jesus for salvation, He
would not leave her to perish. In conversing with
her I was often reminded of the first verse of the fifth
chapter of Romans, "Therefore, being justified by
faith, ye have peace with God."
Many other interesting circumstances connected
with this revival might be named beside those already
related. Every case of conversion is interesting, and
well may there be joy in heaven and joy on earth,
when sinners estranged from God are led to submit




CHRISTIANS AROUSED.                215
to his government. About twenty young ladies in
the family and school, professed to consecrate themselves to the service of the Saviour, and gave us much
hope that they had indeed become the children of
God.
For ten weeks during that season of God's special
visitation, we had public meetings every evening, and
during three of those weeks there was preaching every
afternoon. Morning prayer-meetings at half-past six
o'clock were well attended in different parts of the
town. So great was the desire of the young ladies to
attend the public exercises, that they cheerfully devoted hours in which they had not been accustomed
to study, to the acquisition of their lessons, so that
few of the regular recitations of the school were
omitted.
There were many characteristics of this revival
that seemed to me to be particularly worthy of note.
There were deep searchings of heart, great fervency
in prayer, and much spirituality among Christians,
and all seemed to have been baptized anew with the
Holy Ghost. This was not a time for the children
of God to sleep at their posts, for the enemy of souls
was not idle.  Parents were warned that what they
did for their children, must be done quickly, for
many of the children of the church, one or two of
whom belonged to the Maternal Association of
Bloomfield, had, within a few weeks been called into
eternity.




216            A UT OB IOG RAP H Y.
O how can parents who themselves know something
of the priceless value of the immortal soul, live at
ease, while surrounded by impenitent children, who
are every moment exposed to eternal death. When
will they unite that fervent prayer, and lively faith,
and faithful discipline which will ensure obedience to
themselves, and submission to God?  When shall it
be said of the believing parent, as of Abraham of old,, I know him, that he will command his children,
and his household after him, and they shall keep the
way of the Lord."
At the first communion season that followed the
close of this memorable session, forty-six converts,
fruits of this revival, for the first time sat down to
the table of the Lord, to commemorate His dying
love.  Seven of that number were members of the
Seminary.
"When gathering round the Saviour's board,
Fair forms, and brows beloved, I see,
Who once the paths of peace explored,
And traced the studious page with me:
Father, I bless thy ceaseless care,
Which thus its holiest gifts hath shed,
Guide Thou their steps from every snare,
From every danger shield their head."




CHAPTER  XXXII.
ELIZA' S ILLNESS  AND  DEATH.
" Call her no longer thine;
Thou could'st not keep consumption's moth away,
From her frail web of life. Thol could'st not guard
Thy darling from the lion. All thy love,
In the best; armor of its sleepless might,
The spoiler trampled as a reed. Give thanks
That she is safe with Him who hath the power,
O'er pain, and sin, and death. Mourner, give thanksl"%
SCARCELY had the summer session commenced its
operations, e'er the Spirit of God was again manifest
in our midst. Several of the pupils listened with
earnest attention to the truths inculcated; and during
the term  ten or twelve gave evidence of faith in the
Redeemer.
As the summer advanced, it was evident that the
health of my only remaining daughter was rapidly den
clining. For years she had been a sufferer, and such
was her devotion to her mother during her long illness the preceding year, that nature overtasked
yielded to the demands made upon her strength, and
we felt that she would not long continue her ministries to her widowed parent.
Her disease baffled the skill of physicians, and as no
relief to severe bodily pain could be obtained, but by
the use of IMorphine, Iler mind was kept much of the
1(1




218           AU T OB IO G RA PH Y.
time in a state of stupor or excitement. In several
conversations which I had with her, respecting her religious feelings, her replies generally were, "I can
neither think nor feel, I am so stupid."
Her most alarming symptoms abated, and for a season she indulged a hope of recovery.  But these delusive promises of returning health soon vanished, and
she set herself in earnest to examine anew the foundation of her hopes for eternity. Notwithstanding the
effect of medicine and disease upon her mind, she felt
sure there were times when Christ was precious to her,
and she spoke of her wakeful hours at night as often
pleasant seasons of communion with her Saviour —
seasons when she enjoyed much from repeating hymns
and chapters from the Bible, when all around her
were asleep.  " But," she would add, with her usual
distrust of herself, " I am afraid that the enjoyment
arises more from the excitement of Morphine than
from really right feelings in the heart." She often
lamented her absence from her mother, when she commenced her Christian course.  " Could I have been
with you at that time," she once said with much feeling,'I should have been instructed in the nature and
duty of cultivating spirituality of mind, and how much
more devoted a life I might have led.'
She became a Christian as she hoped, at fourteen
years of age, while residing with her grand-parents in
my native state. They gave her good instruction, but
entered very little into her feelings or directed her ex



HOPES EXAMINED.                  219
perience. She returned to me two years after the
event, in such a state of health as precluded all active effort, and after her sister's death in 1832, she
spent a year in New Jersey, in the hope that change
of air and employment might prove beneficial to her.
There holy affections were not cultivated as they should
have been, and she came home to become the object of
much attention to many who loved her for her gentle,
quiet virtues. The circumstances attending a residence of four years in Virginia were also very injurious to her spiritual interests, and she felt that there
she laid the foundation work for bitter repentance.
To her worldliness and unfaithfulness in the cause of
her Redeemer during that period, she afterwards referred with deep emotions, and as the tears flowed
from her eyes, she expressed the fear that her past
hopes had all been delusive. I urged her if such
were her fears, to renew the dedication of herself to
the Saviour-to apply anew to the blood of atonement for pardon, and to the Spirit of God for His
sanctifying influences. The result of this conversation was salutary, and frequently after this she resumed the subject, seeming desirous to understand her
real situation and her prospects for eternity.
At times, she said, she was much distressed with
doubts and darkness of mind. To her, death had always been the king of terrors, and the idea of the
possibility of being called into eternity, without a wellgrounded hope in the Redeemer, was terrible to her




220           A UT O B IO GR   PH Y.
soul.  When asked -if upon a review of the exercises
of her mind, she could give no evidence of her interest in the atonement of Christ, she uniformly replied,
that she did; but she was so fearful of self-deception,
I have reason to believe that much of her time was
spent in self-examination; often when I was obliged
to leave her for a season, to discharge duties that imperiously claimed my attention, she would beg that no
one might be sent to fill my place-she preferred to
be alone.
During the last two months of her life it was interesting to see how subdued was her spirit-how patiently she bore her severe sufferings. Once after I
had engaged in prayer with her, she said, " Mother,
there is one expression which you use in prayer, that
I do not think is right."
"' What is it, Eliza?" I asked.
" You speak of the bitter cup that I am called to
drink, and it ought not, I am sure, to be called a bitter
cup."
" But, my dear child, is not such suffering as you
endure, bitter?"
"' Yes, Mother, perhaps so; but then I have so many
mercies-it seems all mercy."
I never again used that expression in prayer. She
spoke frequently of her enjoyment during her sleepless nights, when all was quiet around her.  She derived much profit and satisfaction from Philip's works,
especially his ": Eternity Realized;''-Mrs. Dwight's




READY  TO DEPART.               221
Memoirs, also deeply interested her. But the book
to which she loved most to listen was the Bible, and
often would she say to me, " 0 Mother, you always
select exactly the chapters that I love to hear."
On the 1st of November a new session in the
Seminary commenced, and for a few days the confusion unavoidable from  such a change, disturbed her
mind, but she soon regained composure. On the
evening of the 16th we perceived a very perceptible
change for the worse, and it became very apparent
to her friends that her departure was at hand. Although I had repeatedly conversed with her on the
state of her feelings in view of death, and told her
we had no hopes of her recovery, I dared not trust
myself to say that ere that week should close she
would probably be in eternity.
Day after day she grew more feeble, till, on the
20th, I requested her pastor to break to her the
opinion of her physician that she must soon leave us.
iHer aunt remained with her, while I retired to pour
out my full soul to God. She received the decision
of her physician with perfect calmness-told Mr. S.
she had no fear of death-that all anxiety on the
subject of her soul's salvation was entirely removed
from her mind, and that she was ready to depart whenever her Saviour should summon her away. She
had sometimes feared, she said, that mother supposed
she was reluctant to express her feelings, but it was
not so; her hesitancy arose from the fear of distress



222          AUTO B I O GRA P  Y.
ing me by expressing the belief that she was so soon
to be removed.  After Mr. S. had prayed with us
and departed, Eliza requested to see me alone.
" Mother," she said, fixing her eyes with deep interest upon me, and speaking with difficulty, for she
was much exhausted, "should I be suddenly taken
away, say in a few days, or to-night, could you follow
me, in your thoughts, to the throne of Godl, and feel
that I was among those who were engaged in singing
His praises?"
"Tell me, my child, whether, if God should remove you this night, you believe, that through the
merits of your Redeemer, you should join that happy
company?"
" Yes, mother, I believe that I should."
" Then, Eliza, I could think of you, and bless God,
as rejoicing in the presence of God and the Lamb."
"One question more, mother; do you feel that
you can give me up when the Saviour shall call me
away?"
" Yes, my child, I bless God that He enables me
to feel willing to resign you to Him; the struggle
has been severe, but He has supported me, and I feel
assured that He will not forsake me in the trying
hour."
" O0 I am so glad that you feel so, mother," she
said, "you have been a precious mother to me, but I
have often been an undutiful child, and I know I have
often tried your feelings."




FILIAL  FEELINGS.               223
I said to her, " my dear child, if it is any comfort
to you to hear me say it, I can tell you that you have
been a great comfort to me; in all my cares and trials
you have sought to lessen them by sympathy or participation. In sickness you have watched over me,
and I feel, that under Providence, I owe it to your
untiring efforts and watchful care that I survived my
last terrible illness; and I cannot but fear that your
present sufferings are the result of your faithful attendance on that sick bed."
"I can say, with Legh Richmond," she replied,
"when my heart is too cold to bless God for any
other mercy, I can thank him for giving me such a
mother."
I was too much overcome by my feelings to converse.
"Mother," she continued, "did you not tell me
you could resign me into the hands of God? Why,
then, do you feel thus?"
"I trust, Eliza, I am willing to submit to the will
of our heavenly Father, but nature will feel —my poor
heart deeply feels this trial."
"God will take care of you, mother; it seems
wonderful to me that I have so little anxiety respecting you, but I know that it will be but a little while
before we shall meet again.  I would not be selfish —I know that you are needed here —but 0, what a
joyful meeting that will be, and it will be so soon.
Mother, there is no time in heaven."




224           A UT O B I O G R A P H Y.
This, and the preceding conversation with Mr. S.,
entirely exhausted her, and she lay for some time
apparently unconscious.  Late in the evening she revived a little, but was soon so distressed that her
physician thought she could not survive till morning.
She was perfectly sensible-aware of her situationand entirely calm and composed.  Seeing me weeping, she called me to her,  Mother, do you remember
your promise?" she said, emphatically.  I asked her
if she could trust her soul without fear in the hands
of her Redeemer.  She assured me that she could do
it-that her Saviour was very near, and that she had
no fear of death.
Many friends watched by her bedside during the
hours of that weary, anxious night, every moment
expecting her departure; but the morning of Saturday dawned, and found her still an inhabitant of
earth; and there she lay, on that bed of suffering and
pain, till the following Thursday-spared, I have no
doubt, to enable her to exhibit the power of religion
to sustain and to fill the soul with joy unspeakable in
the midst of great bodily suffering.
I had many interesting conversations with her during those days of anxiety and watching. Never did
a cloud darken the bright prospects of eternal blessedness, never a doubt arise as to the reality of her trust
in the Redeemer.  She loved to talk with me respecting the angelic throng who surround the throne
of God.  "'0, mother,' she once said, with much




HEAVENLY ANTICIPATIONS.   225
animation, " do you think I shall know my father in
heaven? and Maria too-and other friends-what a
happy company I shall find in heaven!"  We then
had a long conversation on the recognition of friends
in the heavenly world.  "But," she said, at its close,
" this will not be necessary to constitute the happiness
of the Christian there-the presence of the Saviour
will be sufficient."'
She dwelt much on the great mercy of God, manifested to her-one who had served Him so unfaithfully-to be so blessed in a dying hour; it was wonderful, but she added, "it is all through the merits
and blood of Jesus."  Through her illness, and especially as she drew near to the close of life, she was
tenderly alive to the comfort of those around her,
and often expressed her fears that their attendance on
her would injure them. She earnestly desired once
more to see her brother William, and several times
expressed the wish that he might come; " but," said
she at one time, " I have so many mercies, that these
desires ought not to be named."
Speaking, at one time, of her great desire that her
death might be blessed to the good of the school, I
asked her if she had any message to leave for the
pupils. "I 0, yes," she replied, "I tell the impenitent,
from me, that I urge them to prepare for death while
they are in health.  On a dying bed they will need
all the support that religion can impart; let them
learn from me that they have no security for life.
10.




226          AUTOBIO GRAP HY.
Tell Christians to be faithful in the discharge of their
duties. 0, tell them, mother, not to neglect the duty
of conversing freely and frequently on the subject of
religion, as I have done. Tell them I consider it a
punishment from God for my backwardness in the
performance of this duty, that now, when I desire to
converse, I am unable to do it."
These remarks were made at different times, often
interrupted by severe returns of pain and exhaustion.
Respecting a young relative whom she had wished
much to see, and who visited her a few days previous
to her departure, she said, "R. cannot know how
much he has gratified me by this visit.  0 if I could
only say something that would affect his heart,"-then
after a few moments she added, "God can bless even
a few words. 0 mother, it would be worth dying
for if my death could produce any good effect on
him."
On the Wednesday afternoon preceding her death,
as she was reclining in her chair-my sister and myself seated by her side-Mrs. S. came in, and we had
some conversation on the blessedness of heaven and
the recognition of friends in that happy world. She
joined with much animation in the conversation and
expressed her full belief that such a recognition would
take place, and that they would remember the events
which had transpired on earth.  I said to her, " Eliza,
this is the afternoon for the meeting of the Maternal
Association; you would like to be remembered there?"




INTERVIEWS  WITH  FRIENDS.   227
0' O yes," she replied, " I have a right you know,
to be remembered there?"
"' And have you not," said Mrs. S., "' some message
to send to mothers?"
"Yes," was her ready reply, and then she hesitated and turned her eye very expressively towards
me.
"I can interpret that look, my dear," I said,'it
says that you feel there is an impropriety in sending
a message of that kind to those who are mothers, and
are so much older." She smiled assent.
Fatigued with the effort she had made, she lay upon
her pillow with her eyes closed. Struck with the
tranquil expression of her countenance, I repeated
aloud, " I will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind
is stayed on Thee because he trusteth in Thee." Both
Mrs. S. and my sister observed that the same passage
was passing through their minds, as they looked upon
her.
" O," said I, "could we but look into that mind
and witness all its views and emotions, as it approaches
eternity —" interrupting me, with a most expressive
look, she replied, " I wish you could do it!"
Such were the scenes occurring from day to day in
that sick room, and such the serenity which led our
pastor in one of his visits to exclaim,
"The chamber where the good man meets his fate,
Is privileged beyond the common walks of virtuous life,
Quite on the verge of heaven."




228           AUTO B I0 O  It A PRY.
After one conversation with her pastor, she said to
me,
" Mr. S. asked me one question, mother, that tried
me for a moment, but it was a very judicious one. I
had not thought of it before, and I was glad afterwards, that he asked me."  I wished to know what
it was.
" Do you not recollect how I looked at you once,
while he was talking with me?-it was at that mo-!ment. "
I did remember observing a look of distress rest for,m instant on her countenance and then, passing away,
it was succeeded by a bright and peaceful expression.
I said to her, " Tell me, my child, what was then
passing through your mind?"
She replied, "' Mr. S. asked if I felt willing to submit myself to God to be disposed of as He should see
fit.  I told him that I was willing.  He then saiddoes this submission proceed from a -willing surrender
of your soul to God, or are you willing to die because
you see no prospect of recovery? For a moment I
was bewildered; is it possible I thought, that my submission can arise from necessity alone? My thoughts
instantly reverted to my past feelings.  I had supposed I was willing to die or to live, as God should
see fit to direct —can I have been mistaken? Then I
thought of the desires I had had, should health be restored, and I asked myself now should God raise me
from this sickness and direct me to a situation which




LAST W ORDS.                 229
should offer hardship and trial all my days, but one
in which I might do much to promote His glory,
would I be willing to engage in such a service? and
my heart replied, yes-' I can do all things through
Christ strengthening me,' and then I knew that I felt
submission to God's will, not from necessity but because I love Him and His cause.  MAother, that was
a good question-it led me to think-tell Mr. S.
SO.-7
The last connected sentences that she uttered were
to her brother R. who had just returned fromn listening to a lecture from Dr. Cox on the subject of
history. Supposing it to be of a religious character,
she said to him,
"Brother, turn me in bed, and then tell me about
the lecture-if it is proper."
On being told that it was not about heaven-" nor
God, nor Jesus Christ?" was her query.
" No, none of these things."
"0 then," she replied, "I do not wish to hear
it."
Through the whole of Thursday, she lay most of the
time apparently insensible. Every passing moment
we thought would be her last. Towards night she
was seized with violent coughing, which we feared
would suddenly and painfully terminate her existence,
but this passed away and perfect unconsciousness succeeded; and although there were times during the
night when she seemed distressed with pain and would




230          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
cry out, " Mother, dear mother," we could not perceive that she was conscious of distress.  One painful
struggle almost awakened feelings of rebellion in my
heart; for a few moments the conflict was terrible,
but our heavenly Father had compassion on the
wounded soul and sent the comforts of the Holy Spirit
to impart new strength and confidence in Him.
Our pastor surrounded by our family and pupils,
bowed before God, in supplication that the solemn
scene might be sanctified to all, and that a speedy and
peaceful entrance into the heavenly mansions might
be granted to the sufferer. At four o'clock in the
morning her spirit quietly and peacefully entered into
rest, and my heart rose in gratitude to God-to the
God of the widow and fatherless-that Ie had at last
housed this suffering one, from the storms and tempests
of life.' For her my soul rejoiced; but when I looked
around for the loved one, who was always so ready to
minister to my wants-to sympathize in all my trialsto mingle all her feelings with mine, my heart was indeed desolate. True, I was blessed with dear children and kind friends, but they could not be to me
what that dear child had been. Still I would not have
recalled her to earth. She makes the fourth of my
dear family who, I trust, await me in the realms of
bliss, and very delightful is the hope that our whole
family will yet stand before the throne of God —an
unbroken circle-redeemed by the blood of Jesus. To
God be all the glory.




BURIAL  OF  OUR  DEAD.                   231
On Saturday, the remains of my dear child were
consigned to the grave.  None but those who have
passed through the trial, can know with what feelings
the bereaved mourner turns from the grave, where lie
enshrouded buried hopes and earthly prospects. That
casket which has so long sheltered the spirit now inhabiting the realms of glory, becomes a holy object,
and we turn with shuddering at the thought that we
leave it to become the prey and food of worms. But
the tear is dried and the heart is lightened of its burden, as faith points triumphantly to the glorious resurrection morn, when this corruption shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall become an immortal
body, which redeemed by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus-, united to the spirit, shall stand forever in the
presence of God.
"And ye are left alone,
Who nurtured those fair buds, and often said
Unto each other, in the hour of care,'These same shall comfort us for all our toil;'
Yes, ye are left alone. It is not ours
To heal such wounded. Man hath too weak a hand,
All he can give is tears.
But He who took
Your treasures to his keeping, He hath power
To bear you onward to that better land,
Where none are written childless, and torn hearts
Blend in a full eternity of bliss."




CHAPTER XXXIII.
WINTER OF 1S40-41.
"'Tis sweet to feel that He who tries
The silver, takes His seat
Beside the fire that purifies,
Lest too intense a heat,
Raised to consume the base alloy,
The precious metals should destroy."
WITH what a weight of feeling did our annual
Thanksgiving of 1840, which occurred but a few days
after the departure of my blessed child, dawn upon
me. Not that I felt that I had nothing for which to
thank my heavenly Father, but as I kneeled before
Him  such a rush of overwhelming emotions swept
over my soul, as almost took from  me the power of
thought and feeling.  But I did praise Him-praise
Him for the very trial that was bowing me to the
earth-praise Him  for his mercy to my suffering
child-for removing her from a world of trial, and for
taking her to Himself before she had wept on a mother's grave. And Christmas came cheerily on, with
its joyous greetings and sunny faces, but to my soul
it spoke only of the remembered past.  One year ago
and dear Eliza was full of engagedness in her preparation for the Christmas offering. It was her hand that
prepared each little memento of affection-that spread




MOURNFUL MIEM ORIE S.                   233
the table and uncovered it to the gaze of the curious
group, —each eager to receive the gift of the season,
and there were glad hearts and happy faces all around
us. The sun rose brightly on the Christmas morning
of another year; but it shone on sadl hearts, on one at
least that could not drive back its feelings to their
prison house.  My precious offering had been given
to God; and though he returned richly of the consolations of the Spirit to my soul, I was forcibly reminded of the lines which dear Eliza had copied for
me, a few weeks subsequent to the departure of her
beloved sister for her heavenly home.
"It is not when the parting breath we watch with anxious hearts,
It is not in the hour of death, when those we love depart,
Nor yet when laid upon the bier, we follow slow -the corse,
And leave it in its dwelling dark, that most we feel the loss;
When past the last, the solemn rite, and dust to dust hath gone,
And in its wonted channeled course, the stream of life rolls on,
Oh, who can tell how drear the space once filled by those most
dear,
When well known scenes which they have loved, and all but they
care here?"
Illness and trials of a peculiar character succeeded,
and the winter passed away without any special interest in the subject of the soul's salvation. Our prayermeetings and bible-classes were well attended and
solemn, and a few professed to have passed from death
unto life.
Considerable work was accomplished for the missionary cause, and a valuable box of clothing and




234           AUTOBIOGRAPHIY.
other things prepared for our friend Mrs. L. of the
Armenian mission.
The vacation of April, 1841, I spent in C. with the
sister friend of my beloved Eliza.  Very delightful
was this intercourse, though it forcibly reminded us
of the departed one.  In that dear family I spent two
pleasant weeks; and though the winds blew and " the
storm beat upon that house," it diminished not the
comforts of its inmates.  With many regrets at leaving my friends at the Manse, did my eye watch their
dwelling as it receded from my sight, till it became a
speck in the distant landscape.
Nothing can exceed the beauty of the prospect that
greets the eye on every side of this chosen spot. In
front, gracefully winds the noble Hudson, bearing on
its bosom. steamer and sloop and tiny boat, all subservient to the pleasure or business of man. In the distance, elevated and romantic country seats meet the
view, and the city of Hudson on one side, and the
pleasant village of Athens on the other, give a pleasing
variety to the scene. On the west of the dwelling,
the gentle undulations of the land that gradually swell
into sturdier proportions, charm by their beauty and
variety, while beyond these the lofty summits of the
Catskill mountains tower far above the clouds. There
too in full view, though so far distant, stands the'- Mountain House,' —the resort of the lovers of
pleasure as well as of the grand and beautiful in nature,-perched on the topmost crags, like an eagle on
his eyrie.




CHAPTER XXXIV.
PERSONAL TRIALS.-DR. ATWATER.
"Many a shaft, at random sent,
Finds mark the archer little meant;
And many a word, at random spoken,
May soothe or wound a heart that's broken."
DURING the summer of 1841 events occurred that
involved me in deep distress, and that kept my mind
in continual agitation and perplexity, in which my
children deeply sympathized.  They were the result
of the ungrateful conduct of one for whom I had done
much, and in whose welfare my heart took a lively
interest.   Friends were implicated and alienated,
until it sometimes seemed as though God himself had
forsaken me. So distressing was the whole affair to
me, so distracting to my mind, so injurious to my
nervous system, that my health was seriously impaired, and it was with difficulty that the duties of
the teacher were performed.
In October, accompanied by Miss N., one of our
teachers, who had been to me as a daughter since
dear Eliza was taken from me, I visited some friends
of my early days, residing in New Haven. There I
once more met the venerable man who had been, in




236            AUTOB IO GRAP H.Y.
my  youthful days, my spiritual father-the guide
and teacher of my inexperience and ignorance-the
friend who, in the days of thoughtlessness and folly,
had arrested my attention and directed my feet from
the paths of sin to holiness; whom, under God, I
shall bless through eternity for his untiring efforts
for my salvation. I had not seen Dr. Atwater for
thirty years, and it was delightful to renew a friendship so long interrupted.
"I do remember him. His saintly voice
So duly lifted in the house of God,
Comes with the far-off wing of other years,
Like solemn music. I do remember him;
The comforter and friend.
Farewell, thou who didst lead me
To the Redeemer's sacred board a guest,
Timid and unassured-yet gathering strength
From the blest promise of Jehovah's aid
Unto the early seeker."
With much anxiety at the close of the year did I
retrace the dealings of God with me. I reviewed the
past, not to write bitter things against unjust calumniators, but to bring my own course to the bar of
conscience, and to the view of the heart-searching
God, and after the severest scrutiny I could not feel
that I should pursue a different course, were I obliged
to retrace  my  steps.   I felt that though justice
might never be done to me in this world, unto God I
could commit my cause, and that I" my judgment was
with my God."




REVIEWING THE PAST.               237
No record remains of souls renewed during that
troublous year; but much was accomplished for the
missionary cause, and I trust that many hearts were
made glad by the offerings of affection to the treasury of the Lord, and to the domestic circles of
many who are laboring for the dark-minded in faroff homes.




CHAPTER XXXV.
REVIVAL  OF  1843.
" O, Jesus, our King,
These off'rings we bring,
And prostrate ourselves at Thy throne;
We come in Thy name,
No merit we claim,
We bring Thee but what is Thine own.
Thy name we adore,
Thy blessing implore,
0, smile on the trifles we bring;
Accept from our hands
What Thy glory demands,
And Thy praises aloud we will sing."
THE year 1843 opened with more encouraging
prospects. " My faith looks up to Thee," would, perhaps, well express the feelings of my own soul. Our
first Bible-class, in January, was unusually solemn,
and many hopes were entertained that these impressions would be abiding, but, like Ephraim and Judah
their goodness seemed "' like the morning cloud and
the early dew." The studies and employments of
the week banished serious thoughts. Giddy and trifling, " God was not in all their thoughts." Surely
there must be great defects in their home education,
when the children of the pious exhibit such a decided
aversion to the subject of religion so early in life.
How little are parents aware that the first impressions
of childhood are generally the most abiding; and




BIBLE  INSTRUCTION.                  239
thus many characters are formed before the parent
has awakened to a sense of his responsibility, or the
danger of his child.
"For character groweth day by day, and all things aid it in unfolding;
And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the hours of
infancy.
Scratch the green rind of a sapling, or wantonly twist it in the
soil,
The scarred and crooked oak will tell of thee for centuries to
come;
Even so may'st thou guide the mind to good, or lead it to the
marrings of evil;
For disposition is builded up by the fashionings of first impressions."
Bible instruction has always been a delightful exercise to me, and in looking over the records of that
year I find that, during the six years I had taught
in  Bloomfield, we had, in  different  classes, been
through the Gospels, twice through the Acts, once.
through Romans and the Epistles to the Corinthians.
A great amount of instruction has been communicated, how often without the unction from on high, God
only knows. That He ever condescended to bless
any effort, is cause of unceasing gratitude; that He
has not done it oftener should excite deep humility.
But the promise is sure, "' Ie that goeth forth and
weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come
again, rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him."
Much of the months of January and February,
when not occupied with the duties of the school, were
spent in preparing articles for the Persian mission;




240            AUTO  IOG  AP IY.
and by the first of March they were on their way to
their destination, under the care of our friends, Dr.
and Mrs. Perkins, who were returning to their work,
after a brief visit to their native land.  When the articles were completed, we spread them out for the inspection of our pupils and other friends of missions,
among whom the Rev. Doctor Armstrong had been
invited.  To my question, " Dr. Armstrong, is this a
useless work?" he replied, "You cannot calculate the
amount of good that this offering may do for the missions. Were you to sell every article for its full
value, the money would not benefit them as much as
these presents.'"
We had scarcely completed our missionary work,
ere the special influences of the Holy Spirit were
manifest in our midst, and the song of praise arose
from many a new-born soul. The term had commenced in discouragement and trial-it closed amid
a shower of mercy.
During much of the session most of the pupils had
exhibited a levity of spirit, an inattention to their
studies, and an utter disregard of religious instruction
that often sent their teachers to weep in secret over
their pride and folly. But,
"Just in the last distressing hour
The Lord displayed delivering power,"
and the hard heart was melted, and the thoughtless
awakened to serious concern for the salvation of their
souls.




REB ELIOUS FE EINGS.                241
There were some circumstances preparatory to this
work, that, perhaps, it were well to record.  While
Dr. Armstrong was in town, some hopes were entertained that a spirit of inquiry and an increased attention to the subject of religion were awakened in the
congregation; it was therefore proposed that there
should be preaching afternoon and evening for several
successive days.  When this intention was made
known in the Seminary, appearances strongly indicated a decided dislike to the measure, and many remarks were made, exhibiting the determination of the
pupils to keep aloof, as much as possible, from all
serious influences. Indeed, many formed the resolution, that unless compelled to do so, they would attend
none of the meetings. I was exceedingly tried to
know how to proceed wisely at this difficult crisis.
Should I insist on attendance at the meetings, their
opposition to the truth might be increased; if I allowed them to neglect these means of grace, it might
be fatally injurious to those for whose salvation my
heart was continually pleading. Friends could not
aid me, for they were perplexed and alarmed at the
rebellious feelings exhibited.  W\e carried our case
to our Father's throne, and entreated to be directed
aright.  My mind became calm and settled.  I decided to keep them, for a time at least, at home.
No remarks were made to the pupils in regard to
the appointments of the week, though morning instruction was continued as usual.  When the church
I'I




242          AUTO B IO IGRA PH Y.
bell sent forth its first summons to gather for worship
in the sanctuary, it was almost amusing to see the
looks of surprise cast from one to another, that they
were not bidden to accompany their teachers to the
house of God. Evening came with its precious privileges, but still they were not there to listen to the
Word. They professed to be delighted that they were
not " worried" with lectures and admonitions.  Another day came and went, and still they were not invited to the feast. Then arose angry feelings —
"Well, if Mrs. C. does not care enough about us, to
let us go to the meetings, we are sure that we do not
care;"-they were evidently chagrined at being passed
by.
The succeeding day was to be the last of these privileged seasons, and I was distressed to know how to
proceed.  Should I persevere in the course thus far
adopted, it might seal the eternal destiny of some of
these poor deluded ones fatally, irrecoverably. I
pleaded for wisdom-for guidance.  Like Hezekiah,
I spread this overwhelming subject before the Lord,
and my mind seemed directed and strengthened.
Without any comment I simply requested every
young lady in the family to prepare to accompany me
to the religious services of the afternoon. A few
asked for permission to remain at home-none were
excused —and wondering what had produced such a
sudden change in the conduct of their teacher, all fol



AWAKENED INTEREST.                  243
lowed her with various feelings to the House of
Prayer.
Dr. Armstrong preached, and as he had a beloved child in that interesting group, no wonder his
heart and eyes overflowed as he warned them " to flee
fromr the wrath to come."  Desirous to ascertain the
effect produced by this solemn appeal, I said, after our
family worship, that if any were desirous to attend the
public exercises of the evening, they could do so by
applying to me for permission. I had scarcely reached
my room, e'er one and another sought for this permission, until twenty or thirty had assembled there.
With what subdued expression and earnestness did
they now prefer their requests; —with what evident
sincerity declare their wish to hear the word of Godand with what solemn awe and heartfelt gratitude did
the teacher conduct them to the place of instruction
and prayer.
After our return home, I disclosed to Dr. Armstrong all my trials and struggles of heart and mindtold him the situation of the school —-the rebellious
spirit evinced —the course I had adopted-and asked
for his counsel, his sympathy, and his players.
" My dear friend," was his remark at parting, " it
is a trite but true saying, that the darkest time is
just before day-break, and this I believe, will be your
experience. This term will not close without a blessing to this school.  For weeks we have borne its
spiritual interests to the throne of grace, at our family




244          AUTO B IO GRAPH Y.
altar, and the present aspect of the pupils assures me,
that a blessing is near. Take courage-go forward;
and trust the Lord."
Animated and encouraged we did go forward; the
interest and the solemnity hourly increased, and the
whole appearance of the school was changed. In the
course of two weeks, twenty-four indulged the hope of
pardon through a Saviour's blood.
Oh how affecting it was to see those who a few days
before, preferred any society to mine, now crowding
to my room for instruction and prayer, and how delightful to bow with those dear ones before the mercyseat, and listen to their supplications for God's mercy
on their own souls and on those of their impenitent
companions. They were now as eager to confess the
wrong feelings that they had indulged, as they had
been to justify themselves in their disobedience and
rebellion.  With one accord they met at all times,
when  opportunity offered to unite in singing the
praises of the Redeemer and to pour out their hearts
before Him.
The last day of the term was one of peculiar interest. A new tie bound heart to heart, and the joyous
anticipations of' Home, sweet home," were mingled
with grateful remembrances of the past and sorrow at
the expected separation. The day was closed with
appropriate and profitable addresses by our pastor and
my son, which were calculated to leave a salutary impression upon the minds of the pupils.




GRACE TRIUMPHANT.                245
In view of the merciful visitation of the Holy Spirit,
we could only cry, " Not unto us, not unto us, but to
Thy name be all the glory."  Blessing and honor,
and glory to Him, who turned our mourning into
praise, and-who so richly verified His own promise,
"He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious
seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him."




"CHAPTER XXXVI.
LEILA' S  D EATH.-  WILLIAM'S  CHILD.
I" Ye who mourn,
Whene'er yon vacant cradle, or the robes
That decked the lost one's form, call back a tide
Of alienated joy, can ye not trust
Your treasure to His arms, whose changeless care
Passeth a mother's love? Can ye not hope,
When a few hastening years their course have run,
To go to them, though they no more on earth
Return to you?
And when glad faith doth catch,
Some echo of celestial harmonies,
Archangel's praises, writh the high response
Of cherubim anId seraphim, O thinkThink that your babes are there."
TIIS season of spiritual enjoyment was followed by
a bereavement most distressing.   A  beloved  grandchild given to me, as I trusted, in some measure to
supply the loss of my departed one, and bearing  her
name —of whom  I often said " this same shall comfort
me,' was stricken by disease.   With  trembling  anxiety did her parents and friends watch beside the
couch of the sufferer, as she gradually declined —feeling more and more assured that her heavenly Father
would soon recall the treasure  He had so kindly lent
us. It was to me a melancholy pleasure, that this illness occurred  during  our vacation, by which  I was
enabled to assist in ministering to her wants, and in




LEILA' S DEATH.                247
soothing the excitability occasioned by a constantly
raging fever. Her only indication of distress, was a
low moan accompanied by difficulty of breathing; no
cries proceeded from her, and not once did she refuse
the most disagreeable medicine. Once only she
seemed amused with her playthings, and when I
showed her the little book of pictures, which she had
often been delighted to have me explain to her, I said
to her, " Lelia, tell Grandma' how the little girl does
when she prays to God," she looked up with a smile,
and directly clasped her little hands together as she
was wont to do when in health.
But a few hours before her death, as I stooped to
raise her from the sofa on which she lay, she clasped
her arms around my neck and raising her head laid
it on my bosom and slept for an hour. These are sad
but pleasant recollections. In mercy was she given
to cheer the lonely hours of a weary life, and for
nearly two years sweotly did she perform her mission
of mercy.  The Lord gave,-and I blessed him for
the precious boon;-He took her to Himself-" a
lamb, untasked, untried," —and I blessed Hin still
for His mercy to her.  So early removed from  the
sins and sufferings of life, what blessed scenes opened
upon her vision; what pure and holy joys filled her
soul with wonder, gratitude and love. Gently did the
dear child breathe her life out on the bosom of her
Redeemer, and went to join the blessed, who strike
their harps to the praise of God and the Lamb.




248             AU T O B I  GRAP HY.
"Those feeble feet, unsteady,
That tottered as they trod,
With angels walk the heavenly paths
Or stand before their God.
Those eyes, so curbed in vision,
Now range the realms of spaceLook down upon the rolling stars,
Look up to God's own face."
"'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of siht in faith to muse,
How grows, in paradise, our store."
" Woes cluster-rare are solitary woes;" and such
seemed  now  to be the  discipline  of our Father.
Scarcely had our dear Leila been transplanted from
earth, a delicate and fragile flower, to bloom and expand  for ever in the paradise of God, than the sad
intelligence was received that the youngest of Willian's family circle-a lovely child of twelve months,
had also been removed to the same bright home in
the better land.  Other trials succeeded, but often
did I comfort myself, when exhausted in body and
mind, Kwith the thought, rest will soon come to the
weary one-f-ll, perfect rest-holy rest and forever.
How many seasons there are in the life of woman
when she must feel and suffer alone; "when," as
Charlotte  Eliza]beth justly  remarks, "the dearest
friends must be comparative strangers.  There are
depths of thought and mazes of feelings not to be explored by human eye-throbs of secret anguish beyond the alleviation of human sympathy. Alone,
man enters the world, and alone lie must launch forth




COMFORTING MEMORIES.    249
upon eternity; and between the two periods there is
many a moment when, despite himself, man is compelled to feel what it is to be utterly alone."
(When the stricken heart is thus left desolate, how
does the remembrance of the sainted ones come over
the soul, like the beautiful rays of the setting sunsoft, melting, and melancholy. But does this dark
picture present no light amid its shadows? Yea,
many.  Precious seasons of spiritual comfort-domestic affections lightening life's burdens-friendship's
cheering voice, sympathizing in the hour of troublemerciful answers to prayer-children renewed and
prepared for heaven. Surely, then, we should rejoice in the government of God, and cling to the cross
of the Redeemer, until He becomes to our souls, " as
the shadow of a great Rock in a weary land."
"Who is alone, if God be nigh?
Who shall repine at loss of friends,
While he has One, of boundless power,
Whose constant kindness never ends,
Whose presence felt enhances joy,
Whose love can stop each flowing tear,
And cause upon the darkest cloud
The bow of mercy to appear."
11*




CHAPTER XXXVII.
DEPARTURE OF MRS W. FOR SANDWICH  ISLANDS.'" It is a heavenly theme;
I hear a voice Divine, no idle dream,
Calling to duty and to self denial,
In face of many a stern and bitter trial;
Reverberating, when the day is bright,
Soft whispering in the gentle hush of night;
Chiding when earthly pleasures round me rise,
Soothing when sorrows fill msy weeping eyes;" Go preach the Gospel I fly to every land,
Obey the risen Saviour's last command!"
THE following  year passed by with its clouds and
sunshine.  Here and there I can recall one and another who, by the grace of God, were led to think
upon their ways, and to turn their feet unto God's
testimonies. One dear friend, a teacher in the Seminary, bade adieu to home and friends and native land,
to devote her life to the service of her Redeemer, in
the far-off isles of ocean. She passed away from us
like a bright dream, which left its sweet influence on
the heart; but we yielded her cheerfully to the call
of duty and of God.
Another loved one also, who had proved herself a
devoted child to me ever since my own Eliza had
slumbered with the dead, and who for six years had
labored  by my side as a teacher in  the  Seminary,




MISSIONARY  SOCIETY.                 251
departed to assume the responsibilities of married
life.
" Mlethought'twere well to bear the frowns
And meet the trials of a heartless world;
If sometimes there may cross our earthly paths
A kind and loving spirit that may walk
Awhile with us, adown life's'vale of tears,'
And help us in our way to heaven."
During the following winter of 1845-6, we were
favored by a gracious visitation of God's Holy Spirit,
and several of our pupils then, as we had reason to
hope, consecrated themselves to the Saviour's service.
0, how do such refreshing seasons strengthen the
faith and nerve the exhausted energies of mind and
body for new duties and responsibilities.
The multiplicity of my cares at this times, prevented me from recording many interesting scenes
which would be, in the retrospect, " like the music of
Carryl, pleasant and mournful to the soul." Faithful
teachers greatly aided, by their efficient efforts, in
the good work, and many, I doubt not, were permitted to be instrumental in placing new gems in the
Redeemer's crown.
The summer and autumn of 1846 was signally
chronicled in the Seminary as a season of great missionary enjoyment.  Two missionary families-M-r.
and Mrs. Crane, from  India, and Mr. and Mirs.
Hutchings, from Ceylon, who were at that time residing in our village-greatly contributed to our
enjoyment; and their society, in connection with fre



252            A UTO B IOG RA PHY.
quent intercourse with dear friends who were soon to
give the parting hand to the loved circles at home,
greatly tended to increase our zeal in the missionary
work.  With great assiduity did the members of the
school engage in assisting in the preparation of a New
Year's present for the devoted ones who were soon to
make their home, for many months, upon the bounding billows.
We rejoiced that another band of devoted Christians
were ready to join those who are laboring in India,
and it was pleasant to see the unabated zeal which led
those veterans in their Master's service, Scudder and
Spaulding, with their self-sacrificing companions, to
return to those labors and privations in which they
had already passed twenty-four years of their lives.
But for only two short years was one of this precious company permitted to labor in her new and foreign home.  Faithfully did she perform  her work,
and early and sweetly did she sleep in Jesus. " Dark
and inscrutable are the ways of God to man, but there
is comfort in the thought that what now seems mysterious in the Providence of God, will hereafter be made
clear." She was a precious gift, lent for a few short
years, but early needed to increase the gems in the
Redeemer's crown.
"Give joy to the departed one,
Whose conflicts all are past;
Whose song of triumph has begun,
And shall for ever last;
Where raptured saints and angels join,
In strains seraphlic and Divine."




CHAPTER XXXVIII.
VISIT OF MR. AND MRS. HUTCHINGS.-REVIVAL.
"They are sowing their seed of word and deed,
Which the cold know not, nor the careless heed,
Of the gentle word and the kindly deed,
That have blessed the heart in its sorest need,
Sweet will the harvest be."
THE winter of 1846-47, was one of severe bodily
suffering; the effect of dyspepsia and derangement of
the nervous system.  But these trials were trifles in
comparison with the mental suffering which often came
over my soul like a dark cloud, bringing with it storm
and tempest, and it was not till convinced that the
mind was affected by the derangement and prostration of the physical energies, that relief was obtained.
But notwithstanding that sore trial, the Lord did
not leave me wholly comfortless. Though I was
called upon to suffer, others in the family experienced
signal mercy. Our Father poured out his Spirit upon
the school, and the anxious inquiry for the way of salvation came from many a bursting heart. Unable
most of the time to converse with the pupils, I could
only while lying on my sofa send up broken petitions
to my Father God, for the aid of His Holy Spirit, to
perfect the work that he had begun in our midst.




254           A UTOBIOGRAPH Y.
For several weeks, in the early part of the session,
our dear missionary friends, Mr. and Mrs. Hiutchings,
whose return to the field of their labors had been prevented by the continued ill health of the former, had
tried to make us a visit, but her indisposition or my
illness had hitherto postponed it; but now just when
their prayers and their instructions were most needed,
the Lord sent them  into the family, and for ten days
they both labored with untiring effort to bring souls
to Christ. During this time fifteen indulged the hope
that they had passed from  death unto life, among
whom was the eldest daughter of Mr. Hutchings.
One of our teachers who entered with much zeal
into the work of the Spirit, gave me the following account of one of the pupils, who, naturally reserved
and timid, shrunk from observation.
"It was during the period of deepest solemnity
that I found H. A., one evening at twilight, standing
alone by the stove, which was near the door of her
room. In reply to a few questions, cautiously and
sympathizingly addressed to her, she expressed her
willingness to yield her heart, at that moment, to the
Saviour, and entering her room we bowed together at
His feet.  After I had earnestly commended her to
Him and besought his blessing upon her, she unhesitatingly offered a full and simple-hearted consecration of herself to her Redeemer and to his service.
From that hour she cherished the Christian's hope,
and quietly but sweetly witnessed for Christ. We
hope much for her and from her."




A NEGLECTED  CHILD.               255
Removed afterwards to the companionship of tile
gay and worldly, and having no Christian friend to
direct her steps or warn her of her danger, she made
no public profession of her faith and was classed by
many with those who had no hope.  " But the memory of that twilight hour and its visible results, to
those who recalled the deep interest of those bygone scenes, forbade the belief that she was at heart a
worldling. At length when years had kept that cherished memory,-kept it yet undimmed-the Spirit of
God came with special power upon the Church, and
upon the hearts of the community where she resided.
Then her pastor sought her out and found her still indulging the hope of her earlier years.
" Never had she relinquished that hope-never had
she ceased to perform as she could, the duties it implied.  And now having received anew the baptism
of the Holy Spirit, she sought and found a place
among the sympathizing friends of the Redeemer."
H. E., came into the famnily in the year 18-, a
wild, reckless, neglected child-apparently destitute
of those affections and sensibilities that give interest to
the female character. Often was I tempted to withdraw myself from  the incessant demands that she
made upon my patience and forbearance, and return
her to the guardianship of the only friends who seemed
to care for her; and as often was I deterred by the
improvement that she made in her studies, and by the
earnest entreaties of those friends to bear with her a
little longer.




256           AUTO B I OG RAP HY.
Sadly had her early education been neglected. The
mother who would have watched over the years of
childhood, had been removed by death, and for a time
none seemed to care for her soul or to aid in training
the young immortal for usefulness and happiness.
Thanks be to God that at last He deeply enlisted
Christian sympathy for this unloved, forsaken child.
Here was mercy —mercy in store for the wayward.
In this season of God's power His grace at last
touched her heart.  Her tendency to despondency,
arising partly from temperament and partly from the
circumstances of her early training, gave its own dark
hue to her religious experience. She looked upon
herself as justly condemned by God's holy law, but
for a long time no rays of sunshine from the Redeemer's cross beamed upon her soul.
Slowly did she open her mind to the conviction,
that " the blood of Jesus Christ, cleanseth from all
sin,-that it could avail to cleanse even her polluted
heart. Fearing and trembling, she did at length trust
in the merits of her Saviour. Eventually she united
with the church of Christ, and is now a refined, cultivated, affectionate girl, fitted for almost any situation and desirous of living only for the glory of God.
During this revival all our teachers were indefatigable in the performance of their duties, and many souls
I doubt not, were given them, who will be crowns of
rejoicing to them in the great day of the Lord.




CHAPTER XXXIX.
DEPARTURE  OF MR. AND MRS. BALDWIN  FOR C0HINA,
" Home, kindred, friends, and country-these
Are things with which we never part;
From clime to clime, o'er land and seas
We bear them with us, on our heart;,
And yet'tis hard to feel resigned
WVhen they must all be left behind;
But when the pilgrim's staff we take,
And follow Christ from shore to shore,
Gladly for Him we all forsake.
Press on, and only look before;
Though humble nature mourns her loss,
The spirit glories in thle cross."
THE summer of 1847 passed away rapidly.  Preparations were in progress for the departure of one of
the members of the Seminary to make her home in
the heart of China.  Our new pastor, the Rev. Mr.
D., was invited  to  address  our missionary  society
at its anniversary, and it was arranged that our missionary friends  should  be married  at the close of
these exercises.  It was a deeply impressive scene.
Several clergymen were present, among whom  were
Mr. Richards and Mr. Rankin, both of whom  expected
to spend their lives in the same far-off land.
The report of the secretary of the Society, which
closed with a farewell address to Miss F., awakened
mingled  emotions  of joy  and  sorrow.  For seven
years had  she been  connected with  the  Seminary,




258           AUTOB IO GR AP H Y.
during three years of which she had been a teacher,
and a portion of the time a member of the family.
She had peculiarly endeared herself to us all by her
amiable disposition, her quiet, dignified deportment,
and her cheerful sacrifice of self to the welfare and
comfort of others. Truly, she was unto me as a
daughter.  Many were the gifts of affection that assured the missionary couple of the sympathy and
friendship of those from whom they were soon to
separate.
Educated in the same community, members of the
same church, the newly-married pair were doubly
one. The farewell meeting-the last parting sceneare registered in the deep recesses of the heart.
They went forth amid the tears and prayers of many,
who rejoiced to yield them to the work of the Lord,
while their hearts were sinking at the sad farewell.
Many friends accompanied them to the ship. Ere
they cast loose from their native land-after prayer
had been offered and the benediction pronouncedseveral friends commenced singing' Shall we whose
souls are lighted."   Scarcely had the assembled
throng joined in the hymn, ere a beautiful bird
alighted upon the rigging of the ship, over the heads
of the missionaries, and clear and shrill his notes were
distinctly heard, above the song of praise, on the deck;
and thus he chanted his lay until they had finished,
when he also ceased his notes and winged his way to
some other resting-place. To the superstitious mariner,




CHEERING  PRESAGE.              259
accustomed to bode good or evil much from auguries
and signs, this was a cheering presage of a fortunate
voyage, and one of the owners was so much interested
in the incident that he declared his perfect confidence
that success would attend them.
God did bless them, on the sea and on the land,
and though domestic bereavements, failure of health,
and prostration of strength, have often threatened to
lay them aside from their work, they labor on, and
are happy I' to do and to suffer" for Jesus' sake. Of
the other two missionary friends who witnessed the
nuptial ceremony, one was early called home to God.
His work was cut short by infinite wisdom, and he
rests from his labors. The other, with the companion
who accompanied him to that benighted land, has returned to his native country with the hope of regaining the health and vigor which had become impaired
by unwearied efforts in the cause to which they have
consecrated their lives.
God bless them in their restoration to health, and
speed them back to their foreign home, and to their
labor of love.




CHAPTER XL,
REVIVAL OF 1847-48. —CASE OF H. M.-CONVERSION
AND DEATH OF H. C.
"Thy grace first made me feel my sin,
It taught me to believe;
Then in believing, peace I found,
And now I live, I live.
All that I am, even here on earth,
All that I hope to be,
When Jesus comes, and glory dawns
I owe it, Lord, to thee."
THE scenes of the winter of 1847-48 will live in
the memories of those who were engaged in them,
through the countless ages of eternity.  Well might
we exclaim, "Praise to our God for the unspeakable
gift of a Saviour, and praise to our blessed Redeemer
for the manifestation of His mercy to me and mine.
My own mind had previously been much disturbed
with " fightings without and fears within;" yet again
He had planted my feet upon the Rock of Ages, and
poured in upon my soul the light of life, the peace
that passeth all understanding.   Yea, more, His
Spirit had subdued the proud heart-had given penitence and faith to those who had long trifled with
their soul's salvation-had gathered many precious
lambs into the fold of the good Shepherd.
It is impossible to recount all the cases that occurred




CAVILING.                   261
that were well worthy of record. The conversion of
one of our teachers, a gay, trifling young lady, many
of whose family friends and associates were of the
same character, and around whose heart, binding her
to earth, were stronger ties even than those which
existed beneath the parental roof, was an event, I
have no doubt, to cause joy in heaven, as it did among
the people of God on earth.
Her caviling spirit exhibited itself on all occasions.
The doctrine of election was peculiarly obnoxious.
" If I am elected to salvation, my soul is safe: if not,
no effort of mine can avail to effect it."  Wearied
with her pertinacity and her refusal to yield her assent to any argument employed, I finally proposed to
her to adopt that opinion, and to act upon it, only
changing the premises, " I will believe that I am
elected to salvation, and therefore I will comply with
the conditions."  This presented the subject in a
new aspect; she caviled no longer.
Her convictions were deep and pungent, and the
struggle in her soul was agonizing; but breaking
away from the enchantments of the world, she fled to
Jesus and he received and sustained her sinking
spirit.  She freely yielded  all to Him, and  He
strengthened her, giving her a good hope through
grace, as an anchor to her soul, sure and steadfast.
From this time her efforts were untiring to induce
her companions to listen to the invitations of the
Gospel, and a word in season, with a prayer offered




262          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
in her behalf, often led the inquiring sinner to the
cross of Christ.
Two prayer-meetings were commenced in the family, which were held every morning, at each season of
private devotion, and the same course was pursued in
the evening.  The calls on me were incessant, and
urgent were the requests that I would converse with
awakened sinners, to teach them what they must do
to be saved; and with those who were indulging a
trembling hope of an interest in the Saviour, to guide
them aright, and tell them more of Jesus and His
salvation. Often did I return to my room after such
interviews, the poor, wearied body almost ready to
yield and pass away, while my soul has been filled
with the peace which only Christ can impart.
It was delightful to see the union of feeling-the
affection subsisting between the pupils, and between
the teachers and pupils.
One, who in early life had been consecrated by her
parents to the service of the Redeemer, but who had
caused them much anxiety by her self-will and deception, was placed in the Seminary by her father, with
the hope that the religious influence which was now
excited, might affect her heart and character, and in
this hope he was not disappointed. She was one of
the first to come with the earnest inquiry, What must
I do to be saved? I shall not soon forget the intense
anxiety with which she hung upon the words of instruction, or the desire that she evinced to be led in




SUBMISSION  TO  GOD.              263
the way of salvation; and when she received the Saviour into her heart, it was with such entire consecration of soul and body to His service, as led her at
once to do everything in her power to recommend religion to all around her.
She entreated forgiveness of her parents for past
disobedience, and by every means in her power she
sought to atone for injury done to others. She spent
the. summer session with us, and her labors in promoting the welfare and improvement of her fellow
pupils, in the cultivation of her own mind, and in the
cause of missions, were incessant.  On her return to
the fanmily circle, so great was the comfort that her
parents derived from her society, and so salutary her
influence upon her young brothers and sisters, that it
was decided she should spend the winter at home.
Scarcely had she begun to realize the blessedness
of the home gatherings, under these new circumstances, ere disease commenced its blighting influence.
A cold, increased by exposure, settled on her lungs,
and bore her rapidly to her grave.  From the commencemnent of her illness she evinced entire submission to the will of God, rejoicing that she was in
His hands; and when in the midst of great bodily
sufferings, her friends could not suppress their tears,
her only reply to their expressions of sympathy was,
"I suffer no more than I deserve."
None could witness the peaceful serenity of her
countenance and feel sad. Every word, every look,




264           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
convinced her friends that the grave, with its appalling accompaniments had no terrors for her. She
talked of dying with as much composure as she would
have spoken of a journey, and none hesitated to speak
freely, in her presence, of her expected departure.
Never for a moment did a cloud darken her mind,
nor a doubt distress her respecting her salvation. " I
know in whom I have believed," was the feeling of
her heart; "I have perfect confidence in my Saviour,"
was the language of her lips.
My duties at home prevented my seeing her more
than once during her sickness, and that was only a
few days before her death.
"'You  have come," she said, " in answer to
prayer."
She expressed great delight at seeing me, and I
spent several hours with her,-hours that will not
soon be forgotten; —hours of painful yet delightful interest.  When I asked her, if she could fully trust in
Jesus, —if he was a present Saviour to her,-if she
could cast all her burdens on Him?
" Oh yes," she replied, " IHe is my Redeemer,He is a precious Saviour, and I am willing to live, to
su-ffer, or to die, as my heavenly Father sees best."'
To her mother, she expressed unbounded gratitude
and affection, for her unwearied attentions and watchful care.  Once while I sat by her bedside, she was
speaking to me of her heavenward journey, when a
little prattler who stood near the bed, cried out, "' I




GONE HOM E TO GOD.               2i65
want to go with sister? May I not go with sister?"
Raising her head to look at the little pleader, with a
sweet smile, she said, " No, my dear, you must stay
and be a comfort to mamma, and by and by you shall
come to sister."
When expressing the wish that her mother would
not leave her, clasping her arms around her neck, she
said, "I love you, mother, I love you.  Little did I
think that I should be the first called home, but it
will not be long before you will come, and I'll be there
to welcome you. Who can tell but my spirit will
often hover around you here, to comfort you in sorrow
and in trouble?"
Her father inquired whether she wished " to be
gone, to be freed from suffering, or to be with Christ?"' To be with Christ-to be with Christ."
"Are you willing to leave father and mother, and
the rest of the family 9?"' Oh yes, yes,-if God sees best; and how glad
I'll be to welcome you and ma in heaven, and the
children —will they come too?"
She often spoke of the comfort and instruction she
derived from the visits of her pastor, and expressed
much affection and gratitude towards him. She was
conscious till the last moment, took an affectionate
farewell of her beloved parents, her brothers and
sisters; and her last words were, "happy-happy."
Thus died one, who a few months previous was living without hope and without God; —now justified by
12




266             AUTOBIO G RAPHY.
His grace, and clothed with the robe of Christ's righteousness, made meet to be a partaker of the blessedness of the Redeemer in glory. For any instrumentality which I was permitted to exercise in this work
of preparation, I do bless my heavenly Father, and
give Him all the glory.
"0  weep not for the dead,
No more for them the blighting chill,
The thousand shades of earthly ill,
The thousand thorns we tread;
Weep for the life-charm, early flown
The spirit broken, bleeding, lone,
Weep for the death pangs of the heart,
Ere being from the bosom part,
But never be a tear-drop. given
To those who rest in yon blue heaven."




CHAPTER XLI.
M. M.-MISSIONARY  BOX.
"Thine, Lord, is the whole,
The body, the soul,
All, all, that we have or desire,
Our time, and our health,
Our influence, our wealth,
Our affections, that upward aspire."
M. M., entered the Seminary at the commencement of the summer session of 1847.  She had been
for three or four years a professor of religion, but as
I conversed with her from time to time, and watched
her entire indifference to spiritual instruction and religious duties, I was satisfied that the life-giving principle had not been imparted to her soul. During the
following winter, she was prevented for some days by
indisposition from pursuing her studies, and much of
the time she spent in my room. This gave me frequent opportunities to become acquainted with the
true state of her feelings, and to get an insight into a
heart that had hitherto deceived her.  She was solemn
and attentive to instruction, and seemed perfectly
aware that her hope was " like the spider's web,"
which a breath might destroy. Soon she gave me
pleasing evidence, that she had at length put her trust
wholly in the Saviour. From that time she evinced




268             AUTO B IO GRA PHY.
deep interest in religious exercises and duties. It was
a merciful providence that gave me the opportunity to
learn her true condition, and to lead her to apply the
only remedy —to fly to the only refuge.
Early in the summer, after her return to her home,
she was seized with inflammation of the brain, -attended by deliriums that precluded all conversationwhich in the course of a few days terminated her
earthly existence.
Weeks after she had laid her loved one in the grave,
I found the bereaved mother, still mourning over this
child of her hopes, and " refusing to be comforted,"
not only " because she was not," but because no ray
of spiritual light had illumined the dying bed of the
departed.  She knew nothing of M.'s experience during the preceding winter, and very thankful was I to
be permitted to pour the oil of comfort upon that
wounded heart, and to be able to say to her,:' Veep not for her! there is no cause for woe;
But, rather, nerve thy spirit, that it walk
Unshrinking o'er the thorny paths below,
And from earth's low defilements keep thee back;'So when a few fleet sevoring years have flown,
She'll meet thee at heaven's gate, and lead thee onWeep not for her.'!
The last Saturday of the term', so marked by the
manifestation of God's mercy, at the request of the
pupils, was observed as a day of fasting and prayer
for those who continued impenitent, and to entreat
that those who had given themselves to the service of




INTERESTIN G EXERCISES.    269
God, might have grace to resist the temptations by
which they would soon be assailed.
It was a deeply interesting day. In the evening,
Mr. C., one of the secretaries of the Tract Society,
with our pastor, attended a meeting which had been
previously appointed, in the schoolroom; it was truly
an affecting scene. Mr. D., particularly addressed
those who were so soon to pass away from these soulstirring scenes, and several prayers were offered in
their behalf.  Many wept aloud, and our pastor, who
had entered with his whole soul into this work of
grace in the Seminary, was so unnerved that its influence was felt for several days.
The exercises were closed with the hymn, "Blest
be the tie that binds," &c.  Many tears were shed as
we pronounced the sad farewells and separated, some
hoping to return,-others to meet no more, perhaps,
till the great resurrection morn shall assemble us before the judgment-seat of Christ.
A circumstance occurred at the close of the session,
which exceedingly gratified my feelings.  About a
month previous to the expiration of the term, I had
read to the young ladies a letter from  the Rev. Mr.
W., asking aid in commencing a library for a Theological Institution at Beybec, and also speaking of the
ill health of his wife. I said to the school, that if the
session had not been so near its close I would propose
to make up a box for Mrs. W., but that I had no
time-and I was sure they had not-to make gar



270          AU T OB IO G RAPHY.
ments, I would therefore let the matter'rest until the
next summer.
As Hohannes was about to return to his native
country, I commenced writing to several missionary
friends, and had nearly completed a letter to Mr. W.,
when the young ladies fearing that the package would
be sent away, appointed a delegation to inform me that
they had an offering which they wished should accompany the letter. It seems that after my remarks in
school, several of the pupils collected at recess and
consulted together on the practicability of preparing a
small present to Mrs. W. Zeal and energy supplied
means, and when they reported their success to me,
they had purchased and made about twenty garments
of different sizes and kinds. I was delighted with
this independent effort. I felt that the benefit to
themselves would be of greater value even than to the
missionaries, though to them it would prove no mean
assistance. By the time that we were ready to close
the box, the articles contributed were valued at forty
dollars. It was truly a thank-offering to our heavenly
Father, -an appropriate expression of love to Him,
who had visited us with the refreshing influences of
His Holy Spirit.




CHAPTER XLIIL
VISIT TO MY YOUNGEST SON.-DEAF AND DUMB
INSTITUTION.
" There is in souls a sympathy with sound."
"It may be glorious to write
Thoughts that shall glad the two or three
-High souls, like those far stars that come in sight
Once in a century;
But better far it is to speak
One simple word which now and then
Shall waken their free nature in the weak
And friendless sons of men."
IN the spring of 1848, for the first time, I visited
the home of my youngest son, in the sunny south,
and there witnessed the ceremony of laying the corner-stone of the Institution of the Deaf and Dumb, in
the city of Raleigh, North Carolina. This city is
pleasantly situated, and the many groves scattered
over its whole surface, and the long lines of trees
that shade the sidewalks, give to it a beautiful and
romantic appearance, fully entitling it to be called the
"City of Oaks."
Two prominent streets cross each other at right
angles, thus forming, at their junction, a conspicuous
location for the capitol of the state, an imposing
building embowered in trees.
The 14th of April was the great day for the cere



272           AUTO B IO GR AP H Y.
mony, to which many had looked forward with eager
anticipation. The Board of Trustees, the orator of
the day, and the pupils, escorted by a long procession of Free Masons, in full dress, and a band of
music, marched from the Institution to the building,
passing under an arch adorned with flowers and evergreens.  Masonic mummeries were employed; the
corner-stone was placed in its proper position-a box,
containing appropriate mementoes of the day, and of
the occasion, was deposited in the centre of the stone,
and corn, wine, and oil were poured upon it, to denote, as the Grand Master told us, the prosperity
that they trusted would attend the infant Institution.
Pity that one of the fraternity should have diminished the quantity of wine by putting it to his unhallowed lips, as he bore it to his august Master.
Rev. Mr. B., of the Methodist church, gave an
interesting address, very handsomely defending the
cause of Masonry.  HIe gave us its origin and history,
and the reason why females are excluded from  its
lodges. They perform the works of benevolence inu
their own sphere, and in a more feminine way, while
the stronger sex engage in theirs in a way more fitted
for those who can go forth to labor.
In the evening the various companies of Odd Fellows, collected from different parts of the state, with
a fine band of music, formed a procession from their
lodge room, and halting in front of the Institution,
received the governor of the state, the board of trus



DEAF-MUTES. -273
tees, the orator and clergy who were assembled there.
Then followed the family and pupils, and very comical were my feelings as I paraded, by courtesy, by
the side of the lady of the mansion, through the long
avenue of blazing stars and gorgeous regalia which
adorned the Odd Fellows, who were arranged on
each side as we passed up the broad stairway to the
Assembly chamber of the capitol, already nearly filled
with fair spectators.
Never before had I witnessed, in the attire of any
body of men, such a display of splendid ornaments;
and as this was their first appearance in public in full
dress, the applause that greeted them on their appearance was deafening. The address of Dr. Peet, the
Piincipal of the New York Institution for the Deaf
and Dumb —marked by extensive knowledge and
sound sense-was exceedingly interesting.  He gave
in detail the history of the commencement, the progress and the success that had attended the efforts in
behalf of this long-neglected portion of the community. An examination of the pupils in Scripture,
history, and an illustration in signs, of various mechanical employments, the passions, etc. etc., followed
the address, the whole closing with the humorous exhibition, in the language of signs, of the drunken
husband sewed in a sheet and whipped into repentance
by his wife. The exercises were exceedingly entertaining, and gave general satisfaction.
It was particularly gratifying to me to witness the
1,2-?~




274          AUTOB IO GR AP I Y
exercises of a Sabbath day among the deaf-mutes.
Morning worship on that day is made a season of
more elaborate instruction than on other days. They
attend church in the morning, and the sermon is repeated to them by their teacher, who, screened from
observation by a curtain, translates the words of the
preacher into the language of signs. In the afternoon they are taught at home.
On the evening of the second Sabbath that I spent
with them, I was invited by my son to give to the pupils
some account of the religious feeling that had been
manifested in the Seminary during the previous winter.  " Be simple and concise," was the direction
given to me. As I entered the room, filled by teachers and pupils, sitting in breathless expectation and
silence, awaiting the novel communication which I
had promised them, it was affecting to see how their
countenances brightened, as their teacher informed
them of the purpose of my visit. I told them of the
revival-described some of the scenes through which
we had passed-spoke of the prayer-meetings, of the
Bible-classes, of the last fast-day, and of the closing
of the school. Warmed with my subject, and somewhat excited by the novelty of the scene before me, I
urged upon the mutes the importance of securing an
interest in the Saviour.  I spoke of their privileges,
so superior to those of many of their unfortunate
class-these privileges increased their obligations to
God, and that therefore greater would be their guilt




DAWN  OF LIGHT.                275
and danger, if they rejected the Saviour He had provided.
Many wept much. I said that I should soon leave
them to return to my home, and that we should never
all meet again on earth; but there would be one more
time of meeting, before the bar of God, and I wished
that they all might be prepared to rejoice with me in
heaven.
Their teacher followed with a few remarks and
prayer. All seemed very solemn, and some wept
aloud.  After we returned to the house, one of the
female pupils sent to request that her teacher would
come to her in the study room. She seemed to be in
great distress.  " 0, why, Mr. C.," she said, " have
I not known these things before? Suppose I had
died while ignorant of these truths, what would have
become of me?" He told her that she had often
heard them, but had not attended to them, or had
not been able to comprehend them —that he had
given her similar religious instruction, but she had
not felt it. She wept aloud.
"I am  going home," she said, "and who will
teach me there?"
I"Jesus will be there," he replied; "he will be
your teacher, and you must pray to Him."'
She continued very serious until she left the Institution, which was in a few weeks. How I longed to
gain access to the heart, and to unfold the truths of
God's word to this dark-minded mute, but her inabil



276          AT  BIO GRA PH Y.
ity sufficiently to comprehend language, to write correctly, or to understand many of the words that I
might use in attempting to communicate with her,
deterred me.
Never before had my feelings been so deeply interested in these unfortunate beings.  Never had I,
previous to this daily intercourse with them, any correct ideas of the difficulty attending the attempt to
impart knowledge to these vacant minds, and yet
their teachers are delighted with their work. " O,"
said one,'"the instruction of the deaf-mutes, with
their speaking eyes and bright intelligent faces
turned toward you with so much attention and expectation, is a thousand times more delightful than
imparting information to those'who have ears and
hear not,'-who have mastered everything but their
own brainless skulls."
In the company of my children and their family, I
returned to my Jersey home, and to the responsibilities of a new term. Scarcely had I commenced my
duties ere I was summoned to. follow to the grave my
youngest sister, whose physical sufferings for many
years had made her life a tried and painful pilgrimage. Her departure could not call forth a tear for
her, for we trust that she passed away to a heavenly
home, where the inhabitants shall no more say,'1 I
am sick,"-" where there shall be no more sorrow,
neither shall there be any more pain."




REST FOR THE WEARY.                         277
"There is a blessedness that changeth not,
A rest with God, a life that cannot die;
A better portion and a brighter lot,
A home with Christ, a heritage on high.
Hope for the hopeless, for the weary, rest,
More gentle than the still repose of even I
Joy for the joyless, bliss for the unblest;
tHomes for the desolate in yonder heaven 1"




CHAPTER XLIII.
SUNSHINE AND SHADOWS.
"Make haste, 0 man, to do
Whatever must be done;
Thou hast no time to lose in sloth,
Thy day will soon be gone;
Make haste, 0 man, to live."
THE winter session of 1848-49, opened with strong
indications that the Spirit of God was moving with increasing power, upon the minds of some of our pupils.
During the preceding year more than thirty, as we
hoped, had consecrated the dew of their youth to God,
and much of the influence of that precious work, continued to affect the school.  Some seed, we trust, was
sown, that was not wholly destroyed by the adversary
or choked by the pleasures of this life, but was implanted in hearts, open to receive the word, and brought
forth fruit in its season.
Often has my heart been cheered by intelligence
from those who had departed from school influences
without giving the evidence that. I desired of their
conversion to God, that the impressions here made upon
their minds were never obliterated, but continued to
disturb and trouble them, till they found peace at the
Saviour's cross.
Here, then, may desponding teachers place their




A SICKLY  SEASON.               279
confidence, and in His word may they trust.  Blessed
be God that He does not require of us success in our
work.  Duty is ours —results belong to Him.
The summer brought its trials of fears, sickness,
and increasing cares.  Several members of the family,
whose aid was greatly needed, were laid on beds of
sickness, and the cholera, which was spreading death
and desolation over many portions of our land, filled
our hearts with fearful apprehensions though it came
not into our immediate vicinity.  Sometimes, my
physical strength was taxed to such a degree, that it
seemed as though the brittle thread of life would snap
asunder.  Sad and solitary I would shut myself in
my room, and weep bitter tears at memory's shrine.
But they were precious tears, they reminded me of
days gone by; days of trial and suffering, when my
blessed Master gave me the assurance of his sympathy
and of His power to support and strengthen the tried
and tempted spirit. To this refuge of the weary I
turned for help; I cast myself anew upon his mercy,
resolving, henceforth, to do or to suffer to the extent
of my power, all that should be laid upon me, cheerfully and faithfully, if God would give me grace.
Death, also, was busy at his work among friends,
and many whom I loved were snatched away from bereaved parents and the dear delights of home affections. One, a dear friend of my departed Eliza,
while on a visit to her friends in Vermont, was numbered with the dead, and rests beside the beloved




280           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
mother whose loss she early deplored. Very similar
were these sister-friends in temperament and feelings;
and I trust they now rejoice together in their heavenly home.'; My rest is in heaven, my home is not
here," was the appropriate song of the family circle
at our evening worship, after the news reached me of
the removal of our friend A. B., to a better world.
0 the fulness of that love which opens such a prospect
to the world-wearied spirit, through the blood of
Jesus-which assures the lonely heart of a reunion
with the loved ones, who once cheered by their affection the sad spirit of a widowed mother, — whose tender watchful ministries anticipated her wishes and
filled her heart with gratitude for such rich blessings.
I thank thee, Father, that such treasures have been
mine, and that they were not called to weep at the
couch of a dying mother.  Thou didst in mercy take
them home to Thyself, and I rejoice, severe as was the
trial, that they were so early removed from the sins
and sorrows of earth. Then,
"Be hushed, my sad spirit, the worst that can come,
But shortens my journey, and hastens me home."
Another passed away who, a few months previous
had been a member of our Seminary, suddenly summoned from earth, and so far as we know, with no
preparation for another state of existence. She came
among us like a fair flower, which even in the morning was cut down and withered. But where is the




ADDRESS  OF A MISSIONARY.   281
soul that never dies? No bright ray beaming from
the Sun of Righteousness shines upon the darkness of
her grave, for she loved not the ways of holiness.
While visiting friends in N., in the autumn vacation, I enjoyed the privilege of listening to an address
to the Sabbath school of one of the churches of that
city, from the Rev. iMr. Van Lennep, a missionary
who was visiting this country for a few months.  He
spoke of the importance of a division of labor in all
departments of human life, and the facilities it gives
for the accomplishment of a desired end. He described the practice of olden times, when frequently the
processes of shearing the sheep, of carding, spinning,
weaving and dyeing the wool, and of making the garments for the family, were performed by the same individual.  He referred to the tedious process of manufacturing a single pin when one person was obliged
to go through with the various operations requisite to
bring it to perfection and how few could be completed
in a day. Now it requires eight persons to attend to
the machinery necessary for the formation of this insignificant though indispensable article, but thousands
can be made by this means in the time formerly employed in the creation of a dozen, because each one has
his specific work to do and confines himself exclusively to its accomplishment. Just so in the moral
world; God does not design that one individual shall
accomplish the conversion of the world, but each one
has an appropriate sphere in.which he is expected to




282          AU TOBIOGRAPHIY.
labor, and he is answerable for the success of his
machinery.
Children, too, have their machine which they must
watch; and it is the children of the heathen world.'Let the parents care for the men and women that
are going down to perdition; but your duty, children,
is to see that the poor heathen children are furnished
with the word of God; that teachers are sent to them,
that they too may be instructed in the way of salvation." For the encouragement of the children that he
was' then addressing, Mr. Van Lennep said he would
tell them what kind of youth the missionaries of the
East were often called to teach. Far up the Bosphorus lies the city of Constantinople-a magnificent
city, the diameter of which is fifteen miles-three
times the size of the city of New York. A boy of
thirteen years of age was placed in the school of which
Mr. Van Lennep was the teacher.  He became much
interested in his studies, and the fears of the priests
were consequently awakened lest the missionary should
induce him to become a Christian. They therefore
required the parents of the boy to remove him from
missionary influence and place him in a native school,
seven miles distant on the other side of the city. The
boy was unhappy,-he was cruelly treated-he felt
the difference in the schools-he could not study, and
he determined to return to his former instructors.. On
the following morning instead of entering the school
with his companions, he secretly and swiftly passed




THE HEATHEN  SCHOOL BOY.   283
into a lane, and afraid to appear in the streets, or to
go in one of the boats, he passed over a bridge that
led him  a considerable distance off from the direct
route, thus lengthening his walk to twelve miles.  He
accomplished his fatiguing journey in four hours, and
presented himself at the missionary's door, pale, trembling and exhausted.  They received him joyfully, and
through the great mercy of God the priests were prevented from withdrawing him a second time from the
school.
In this mission school he learned to pray and to
love his Saviour, and very recently, Mr. Van Lennep
said, he had received a letter informing him that this
interesting child had been called home to dwell with
the Saviour that he loved. The missionary then requested the children who heard him, to ask themselves every Saturday night, " What have I done during the past week for the salvation of heathen children?" and he proposed that each one should write
down a resolution to this effect, that whenever the
time should come when he should begin to think of
the future, and determine what should be his employment or profession for life, —he would first ask himself, why ought I not to become a missionary.




CHAPTER XLIV.
THE HEART UNVEILED.-POWER OF DIVINE GRACE.
" Spirit of everlasting grace
Breathe on this valley of the dead,
Send forth thy quickening might abroad,
Till, rising from their tombs, they spread
In full array-the host of God."
THE winter session of 1849-50 commenced with
goodly prospects. From the first opening of school,
I noticed unusual attention to morning instruction,
but daily, as the pupils turned to their studies, or to
social intercourse, these encouraging appearances
were dispelled. The Holy Spirit was evidently impressing truth on heart and conscience, and sinners
were as evidently resisting convictions of sin and
duty. Thus week after week passed by, until a circumstance occurred that called for censure and discipline.  The discipline consisted in prohibiting the
offending party from enjoying her usual social intercourse with her companions, moving among them as
one who had no common interests with them, further
than related to her studies. This often proved a severe and salutary punishment, and in this case was
followed by happy results.
I conversed with D. C. She felt and acknowledged
that she had done wrong, and the conviction, now for




DETERMINED  RESISTANCE.    285
the first time, seemed to enter her mind, that she was
a sinner against God. The conflict within was great;
for days no smile enlivened her usually pleasant
countenance.  In the midst of these encouraging
prospects, the holidays came, with their distracting
influences, and our pupils went forth to plunge into
their gaieties and festivities, and to return, as we
feared, more thoughtless than ever.
Pleasant as these seasons of recreation may be to
teachers and pupils, I regard them as a grand device
of Satan to turn the thoughts from God, at a period
when the closing of one year and the introduction of
another, are so well calculated to lead the mind to
look, with earnest scrutiny, upon the past, and with
deep anxiety into the future. With feelings of deep
solemnity did I commend them all to God as they
parted from us, for this transient visit to their homes
and friends.  They did return-not merely thoughtless, but seemingly with "' hearts fully set in them to
do evil" Many of them appeared to be alarmed lest
instruction and the influences of the Holy Spirit
should complel them to give attention to their soul's
salvation.  They were not only trifling in their conduct, but evinced a fixed determination to resist
every attempt to lead them to " consider their ways
and be wise. "
Sick at heart, and almost sinking beneath the dark
waters, the cry of " Lord, save, or we perish," went
up from a bursting heart.




286          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
From my pastor I received much sympathy and
assistance. The peculiar state of the school was a
marvel to him. Those who had been educated by
pious parents seemed to have lost all that tenderness
of conscience which is so often met with in those of
their sex and age; while others, who had not been
thus instructed, knew nothing and cared nothing
about religion. The foundation work, therefore, to
be done, was immense, and such as to try the faith
and tax the energies of the teacher as she had never
been tried in all her previous experience.
It was a long and weary time before the first stone
above the water showed that the foundation had been
successfully laid. But how different were the indicacations of the coming of God's Spirit, from what
might naturally have been expected in such circumstances. The " eye" of " the tender and delicate
woman who would not adventure to set the sole of
her foot to the ground for delicateness," was just as
evil towards God and His law and His holiness, and
her heart was as unwilling to yield to the Divine
claims as that of any other sinner.
If we had ever supposed that any heart in which
supreme love to God was wanting was less than totally
depraved, or that there was any thing morally good
in amiable instincts, we were soon taught differently.
Like the flush that sometimes lingers on the cheek of
the corpse after death, there is nothing beneath such
goodness but corruption. As soon as the power of




VARIOUS MOTIVES.                287
the world to come began to take hold of their consciences, it became too apparent that these fair seeming qualities were nothing but frostwork, and the old
truth came up as unmistakeably, that "the carnal
mind is enmity against God, and is not subject to the
law of God, neither indeed can be."  The cheerful
and good-natured indifference and thoughtlessness by
which our young friends had hitherto been characterized, speedily assumed the form of fierce and downright opposition.
Some, as it afterwards appeared from their own
confessions, opposed through ignorance; some through
pride and vanity; some through fear of ridicule;
some because they were unwilling to have their companions converted; some because they were not willing now to be converted themselves: and some-and
these were most bitter of all-because they had stifled
convictions before. Of course such a state of things
was the occasion of most intense anxiety and distress
to all who were either directly or indirectly concerned
in the spiritual welfare of the Seminary.
Believing that not a few must be guilty of such
conduct "' ignorantly through unbelief," the pastor at
length preached on Acts ix. 4, 5, " Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou me, etc.," with an application that
could not well be misunderstood by those for whom it
was principally intended. To some of the leading
minds of the school this truth was brought home by
the Holy Spirit, and during the following week nearly




288          A UT O B I  GRA PH Y.
a dozen were made willing to yield to the heavenly
influence.
" For a moment the shock upon the rest at being
thus separated from  their companions, was almost
overwhelming, and, we began to fear, the effect of
sympathy; but for once we were mistaken in anticipating much danger from that source.  No sooner
was the number of converts all told, and it was
found that the majority were still on the side of the
world, than the remaining opposers rallied, and endeavored to build up the walls higher and thicker
than ever. So far as it was in their power to effect
it, they were fully determined that the work should
cease, and had not the Lord again been on our side
their triumph would have been complete. We were
made to feel, oh how deeply and sincerely, that the
work of conversion was not of man but of God; and
while we were thus prostrate before Him, He again
appeared for our deliverance, and saved us for His
merey's sake."'  Thus wrote our excellent pastor, in
his review of this spirit-stirring work.
The sermon to which reference is made above, so
exactly exhibited to the hearts of many their own
bitter opposition, that they became alarmed.  The
suppressed feelings now burst forth. D. C. sought
me in great distress. I could only, as I had done
before, urge upon her the Saviour's claims, and beseech her to trust in his'righteousness alone. After
commending her to God in prayer, I sent her, with




A NEW-BORN SOUL.                 289
her Bible and Doddridge's consecration of the sinner
to Jesus, to seek, in retirement, reconciliation to Him
who only readeth the heart of man.
She came not to tea; the evening passed, and still
she was alone with God. At eight o'clock I entered
her room, and there she sat, leaning on her hand, her
countenance beaming with light from within. I asked
her if her peace was made with God.'I trust," she replied, "that I have cast myself
on His mercy-that He has pardoned my sins for
Jesus' sake."
I was much gratified with the conversation that
I had with her-at the distinctness of her views)
and the simplicity with which she embraced the gospel of salvation. I prayed with her, she followed
me, and seldom have I listened to such a pouring out
of the soul to God.  When she had finished, I arose,
but she still knelt.
"' D., do you still wish to pray?" I said.
"' O, Mrs. C., I feel as if I could pray for ever."
"I Then let us again go to the mercy-seat."
A second time I commended her to God's mercy
and protection, and again went up the earnest petition
from this dear child for grace to serve the Lord, in
newness of life. This prayer seemed to take hold of
the blood of Christ, as cleansing her from  all sin.
Sweet to my spirit was this season of communion
with a new-born soul, just emancipated- from  the.
thraldom  of sin.  ITow earnestly did she pleasv  for




290           A  TO B I O   A  HY.
her impenitent father and brothers; how strong and
urgent her appeals to the throne of grace; so full of
humility, so subdued, so entirely divested of self, and
so full of reliance upon the merits of the Saviour. It
was good to listen to such a prayer. She requested
permission to remain in her room, and I left her, to
seek another and a different scene. D. took her
stand in the family decidedly for Christ. All felt
that she was in earnest, and that this was no childish
consecration.
D.'s conversion produced a great sensation through
the school.  Many came seeking counsel; some, with
full hearts, to tell me that they had found the Saviour.  One of these acknowledged, that before this
session she had never had one deeply serious thought.
She hoped that now she felt her vileness, and her lost
condition as a sinner, and was willing to yield herself
to the Saviour.  I trust that then, prostrate before
God, she made a full surrender of herself to Him and
His service.  Thus taught and influenced by the
Spirit of God, they came, day after day, with the great
question, " What must I do to be saved?"




CHAPTER XLV.
FAARTHER DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER.
"In spite of unbelief and pride,
And self, and Satan's art,
Tile gates of brass fly open wide.
And Jesus wins the heart."
ON the third day after the Sabbath, deeply were
all impressed with the conviction, " surely God is in
this place." I read at the opening of school, from
Luke, xv. 1-11.  I spoke of the joy of heavenly
beings over penitent souls.
Why should Angels rejoice?
Because they know how to estimate the blessedness
of heaven-the terrors of hell and the vanity of
earthly pursuits. They know too the value of the
immortal soul; they know something of the depth and
evil of man's sin-not from having been partakers of
it, but from the abundant manifestations of it in man's
history; —and they know what a terrible punishment
is implied in being forever banished from the presence of God. And as God is glorified in the salvation of every sinner, they rejoice at every new star
that glitters in the Redeemer's crown.
The distress of mind evidently increased. Some
begged permission to retire to their rooms, somie re



292           AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
quested to see me alone, and through that and several
successive days, we all felt that the Spirit of God was
in our midst, with convincing and converting power.
After family worship that evening, I invited those
that felt anxiety respecting their soul's salvation, to
assemble in my room.  I read to them the tract entitled " The Act of Faith," and tried still further to
illustrate the simplicity of faith by presenting the case
of a miserable, destitute outcast, to whom  a home
with all its privileges should be offered, on the simple
condition of yielding obedience and affection to the
kind benefactor who makes the generous offer. She
trusts in the promise of her disinterested friend, and
is received and adopted as a child of the family.
As this interesting group separated with varied and
conflicting emotions, C. L., begged to see me alone.
The hitherto pent up emotions of her soul could no
longer be suppressed.  Bursting into an agony of
grief she exclaimed,
"O, Mrs. C., I have been so miserable all day,
that it has seemed as though I could not live."
She then at my request, gave me an affecting account of her feelings during the last few months.' At the commencement of the session you gave me
Abbott's school-girl. I read a few pages until I came
to one where the author calls upon the reader to make
her choice for or against Christ, at once-saying, that
perhaps before that page was read the final, irrevocable
decision would be made.  I closed the book, —I was




PROCRASTINATION.                 293
not ready to decide yet; —  loved the world too well
to be willing at present to give it up; I was so young
that it would do to wait until I became a little older.
Yet I feared to finish the book, thinking, foolish child
that I was that there the matter would rest for the
present, and that if I did not pass over that particular
page it would make no difference.' I went through the usual routine of school duties,
still wherever I turned those words followed me. Two
months passed on in this way. The spirit of evil was
warring mightily with the Spirit of God in our hearts
and the appearance of the school after the holidays,
was such that our teachers seemed almost in despair.
A violent altercation that arose between several of the
young ladies, which was referred to you for settlement, gave you the opportunity to press home upon
each and all the necessity of settling a more important
question.
" On the Sabbath when our pastor preached that
searching sermon from the text,' Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me,' &c., D. and I sat side by side.  It
seemed to each of us,' these words are spoken to me,'
and throughout the sermon each felt, that the whole
congregation must know  it too.  That evening D.
made the great decision for eternity, while I passed a
sleepless night still undetermined.  The morning
brought no light to me-all within was darkness.
"I Having been early instructed in the truth, I had
no doctrinal difficulties: I wished there were some




-294           AUTO B IO GR A P HY.
such difficulties-something new to learn, something
for me to do to ensure salvation,-then there might
be more hope in my case.  Thus the few last days
have passed in hopeless gloom.'
To no one had she applied for sympathy or counsel,
and only when overwhelmed by her feelings did she
apply to me for the instruction and assistance that she
felt she needed.  I placed her duty before her; urged
her immediate acceptance of Jesus as her Saviour;
gave her Doddridge's dedication to study and to use,
as her own consecration to God, and left her with her
Bible and her God, after commending her to His
mercy.
There in the solitude of her own room, she trusted
that she yielded her heart to the claims of the Gospel
and laid the weapons of rebellion forever in the dust.
The visits of our pastor and Mr. C., who at that
time was assisting him in his pastoral labors, greatly
aided and strengthened us, and we have reason to believe that many souls,-of those connected with the
Institution-rescued from the destroyer through their
instrumentality, will appeal in the great day as seals
of their ministry and crowns of rejoicing.
On one occasion after a very solemn address from
Mr. D., a pupil who, on account of her waywardness
and folly, had been to me an object of great solicitude, came to seek an interview.  She said to me that
she felt as if this was her last call-that she had been
distressed for some time, but could not yield her heart




IRRESOLUTION.                  295
to Jesus.  She complained of the temptation of Satan
to defer repentance to a more convenient season, and
yet she was sure if she did wait till to-morrow, she
would never do it.
I repeated, as I had done many times before, the
gracious assurance of our Redeemer,
" Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast
out." After a long conversation, I asked,
"' Are you r eady now, to submit to Jesus, and will
you do it now?"
With much apparent sincerity and decision, she
replied, "I will."
" Come then, let us kneel down and make the surrender?"
I prayed, and spread out the dark picture of her
life and heart as they had been revealed to me by her
own confessions, as well as by her conduct, hoping
thus to impress morl deeply upon her own soul, its
fearful turpitude and its rebellion.
C" Now," said I, when I had concluded,' make the
consecration of yourself to God just as you are, lay
hold of the blessed promise,'the blood of Jesus Christ
cleanseth from all sin,' and resolve if you perish it
shall be at the -foot of the cross."
She started back, exclaiming,'" Oh, I can't, I can't."
Then commenced a hysterical scene, which greatly
tried my patience. I bade her with decision to be
calm, and by my firmness and composure interrupted
and prevented the dramatical effect she evidently in



~296          AU T O B I O G R A P H Y
tended to produce. I again repeated some solemn
truths to her, placed in her hands, Doddridge's Rise
and Progress, to read and sent her to her room. There
she remained alone through the night, but the morning found her still impenitent.
At the opening of school next day, I read to the
pupils, the parable of Dives and Lazarus. I spoke
of the fondness of the human mind for supernatural
sights and scenes; the origin of superstition; our desire to penetrate mysteries; to obtain information from
the spirit-land. In this parable one from the unseen
world is permitted to speak to us, and a terrible revelation has he made.
When I returned to my chamber this poor, tempest-tossed wanderer followed me.
"' Have you any good news, my child, to communicate respecting yourself?"
O0 no, Mrs. C., I came to ask you to present some
mnotive to induce mne to trust Jesus."
I was heart sick; after presenting so many motives
in the school-room not five minutes before, many of
which were designed expressly for her, and after having pressed her duty upon her mind so often, with so
much earnestness, to hear this request from her was
really too much.
"No, R.," I said, "I have no more motives to
present. If you can resist all that has been urged
upon you,' Neither will you be persuaded though one
rose from the dead.'"




FEARFUL WARNIN G.                 297
Determined to make herself conspicuous, she tormented her teachers and companions with the continual request, that they would present motives which
would induce her " to fly to Jesus." To entreat for
the Spirit's influence to give her a disposition to yield,
suited not the natural feelings of her unsubdued
heart.
And thus the struggle went on, until we have reason to fear, the Spirit of God ceased to warn and she
was numbered among those who having practically
said, " Go thy wa~y for this time," —receives the dreadful sentence, "' They are joined to their idols, let them
alone."
What a warning does such an example present to
the fearful and unbelieving. How does its sepulchral
sounds ring through the soul, as we follow such a
spirit up to the dread tribunal, and bear back the terrible sentence, " I never knew you."
Many such cases might be recorded, full of fearful
interest, in view of which the Christian teacher and
friend has often retired with the lamentation of the
prophet, " If ye will not hear me, my soul shall weep
in secret places for your pride;" and many instances
might be presented, equal in interest and blessed results with those already given, exhibiting the triumphs
of grace over the proud, resisting heart.
"Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit,
saith the Lord of Hosts."
13*




CHAPTER XLVI.
EARLY  DEATHS.-MARRIAGE  OF A TEACHER.-REVIVAL.-TEMPTATIONS.
"Fight the good fight of faith,
With weapons proved and trueBe faithful and unshrinking to the death,
Thy God will bear thee through;
The strife is terrible,
Yet'tis not long,
The foe is not invincible,
Though fierce and strong."
TEE influence of that precious work of grace which
had marked the preceding year, rested on the school
after they had reassembled for the summer session.
Two of those who had professed to trust in the Saviour early in the season, were numbered with the
dead. Both had been pupils of great promise, and left
bereaved friends to sorrow, but " not as those who have
no hope." Weeping friends might anxiously inquire,
"shall we see them again? know them again?"
Yes, bereaved ones.
"'Voices unheard by the dull ear of worldlings,
yet comforting as sweet songs of promise, shall answer your questionings. They whisper soothingly
to you; you shall find' them-know them-love them
-your fadeless treasures-the sainted dead."
Many circumstances occurred during the term, of




FESTIVE  SEASON.                299
unusual interest. Some there were among the professed followers of Jesus, who were awakened to new,
deep heart-searchings, lest they had built their hopes
for eternity on a foundation which would fail them in
the day of trial. Several members of the school and
family publicly united with the church in Bloomfield,
and many presented themselves on their return to their
homes, as living sacrifices in the temples where their
parents worshipped.
A daughter of one of our frontier missionaries,
who had been teaching in our family for three years,
consecrated herself, at the close of this session, peculiarly to the home department, and became a fitting
companion for one who had learned to estimate her
worth. She came to us alone;-she went forth from
us to bless a husband's home with the cheerful radiance
of affection and sympathy. The festivities of the marriage, which took place at the Seminary, formed an
appropriate sequel to a term full of exciting incidents.
On reviewing the passing events of the succeeding
winter session, sad recollections crowd upon my mind,
of the unhappy effect produced upon the minds of the
young ladies by the recurrence of the winter recess.
While some seemed disposed to give us trouble, many
there were whose minds were awakened to serious
thought, when the holidays came with their blighting
influence. How sadly do the indulgences of these
festive occasions break in upon brightening prospects,
and cut off the fair buds of promise that seemed al



300          A U TOB O G R         Y.P H
most ready to blossom beneath the goodly influence
of Christian culture.
The pupils returned to their duties-were kind,
affectionate, and attentive to religious instruction;
but no deep anxiety to be numbered among the people
of God seemed to possess their hearts.
The first of March brought, in its regular course,
our communion season, and two of the family came
forward, and in the presence of God's people, took
upon themselves the vows of consecration.  This
awakened a new interest in the minds of many. A
youth of the same age as one of my grandsons, while
witnessing the solemn scenes of that Sabbath, gave
himself to God before leaving the sanctuary.
The seriousness increased; and now, every moment
when not employed in the instruction of pupils, I was
engaged in conversation with the impenitent who
sought my counsel. Truly could I say that my soul
rested on Jesus; that all my efforts were nothing,
only as directed and blessed by His Spirit; and the
more deeply I felt this, the sweeter it was to labor in
His cause.
Our pastor greatly aided me —God bless him for
his labors of love —and as the result several indulged
a Christian hope. Our teachers were no idlers in the
vineyard, but by their faithful, efficient efforts, were
greatly instrumental in leading souls to Christ. From
the tablets of one who was an effective helper in this
good work, I obtained the following record of a young




SETTLED GLOOM.                 801
friend, over whose sad experience our hearts watched
with painful anxiety.
There was much in her character to admire-much
in the development of mind and heart to mark her as
one whose influence would be felt in society; but
though kind and pleasant in her intercourse with
those around her, we could not, for a long time, gain
access to the inner chambers of her heart.  She was
a professor of religion, and no improper levity, or
unbecoming worldliness of manner, afforded any reason to distrust her professions.
" The occasional lighting up of unusual animationthe speedy relapse into the almost constant expression
of soberness, through which I soon fancied I could
detect deep and hidden grief-the settled air of abstraction to things around her-the talent manifested
-the consistency of her conduct, and her efforts for
the good of others-all made her more and more a
mystery to us.
" Gradually I gained access to her heart, and found
that it was disquieted by anxious thoughts in regard
to its own state. I endeavored to point her to Jesus,
and while she failed to behold him, and grew more
distressed, these efforts were gratefully received, and
so inspired her with confiding affection, that she made
me acquainted with her previous history.
Six years before she had lost a mother of no common excellence, and most sacredly did she cherish the
memory of her prayers, and her holy example.  For




302           A UT O B IO GRA PHY.
three years she had hoped that she loved her Saviour,
but only recently had she publicly professed her faith
in the Redeemer. Since that time she had passed
through a season of bitter trial, the effect of which I
could now distinctly mark.  Excessively proud, and
exquisitely sensitive, she had buried her unappreciated sorrows within her own heart, and then, in a
little world of her own, she had dwelt alone, and
lived a life of suffering. Now she was writing bitter
things against herself, and the dark clouds which
covered her were growing darker still. She put
away all hope that she was a child of God, and spent
her days and nights in agony.
" She scarcely took necessary nourishment, and so
absorbed was she with the struggle within, that she
seemed perfectly indifferent to aught about her.
" At first, she did not refuse to take part in our little
meetings for prayer, but now she did so invariably.
When for the first time she declined, I sat beside her,
and after the meeting was over whispered to her,
"Did you do'riht?'
" Almost a groan of agony was her only answer, and
she sat speechless and apparently riveted to the spot,
long after the room was vacated. Our beloved mother
C., labored faithfully with her.  Our pastor too, endeavored to pour light upon her pathway; but while
she was grateful to all who sympathized with her and
labored for her good, she continued still in darkness.
"Her physical system soon began to feel the effects




DEVICES  OF THE  ENEMY.              303
of such undue activity of mind, and she daily suffered
severe bodily pain, in addition' to her mental anguish.
The physician's efforts to relieve were added to the
rest, but he soon declared his skill inadequate to
remedy the ill effects of a mind diseased.
" Thus passed the summer —and vacation separated
our family for a season.
" C.'s imperfect health did not prevent her return to
school at the commencement of the next session. She
seemed to be not quite so much agitated and controlled by grief, but the lines of deep sorrow were still
strongly marked, and she unhesitatingly, but very far
from unconcernedly, ranked herself with those who
had no hope in God.
"' Our efforts and our prayers for her were unremitted, and as time passed on, though no change occurred in her feelings, we were persuaded that she gave
good evidence not only of real piety, but of a rapid
growth in grace. Towards the close of the winter,
our hearts were solemnized and gladdened by some
few tokens of the special presence of God's Spirit, and
C. not only manifested a deep interest in the welfare
of others, but seemed herself to share largely in the
good influence.
" Why then did she close her heart to all hope, and
refuse to be comforted? It was a continual mystery
to us all. At last an incidental allusion made by her,
to one of " Spencer's Sketches," flashed the truth upon
my mind. And now so clearly could I see the whole;




304          AUTOBIOGRAPrtY.
so manifest was the agency of the great adversary of
souls, that I had not known it all before. There was
a cross that she could not bear; She could not pray
in the presence of others.
" For this she had endured unspeakable suffering;
for this, she had relinquished her hope in Christ;
around this point Satan had gathered his forces, and
hurled his "hellish darts" until it had attained an
awful prominence in her mind, and then to make his
triumph more complete and her misery more intolerable, he devised the plan of secrecy and made her
dread nothing so much as the revelation of this cause
of all her misery.
"' Frightened and excited when she found me in
possession of her secret, she earnestly besought me
still to preserve it inviolate, and it was only after long
and repeated pleadings with her, and a struggle on
her part which well nigh exhausted all her remaining
strength, that I obtained permission to divulge the
cause of her troubles to Mrs. C. and obtain her counsel and advice.
" The power of the great tempter was broken now,
but it was not destroyed.  He could no longer deprive her of an humble hope in Jesus-but no counsel,
no aid, no effort could remove the difficulty from her
way and enable her to join her prayers with ours.
Unspeakably painful were the conflicts that she still
endured, but her victories were only partial-her sufferings were scarcely diminished.




THE  VICTORY.                 805
"Several years have passed since C. left school,
and her heavenly Father has laid upon her a weight
of sorrow such as few young hearts are called to bear;
yet His grace has helped her in hours of trial, when
earthly sympathy seems but a mockery of grief, and
she could gratefully say, " Though He slay me I will
trust in Him."  Amid all, the conflicts with her great
temptation has been going on, but God has been with
her, and when a few months since, a skeptical friend,
was through her instrumentality brought trembling to
his knees, she knelt beside him and achieved a triumph over the arch-tempter —so joyous-so complete,
that to use her own words, she'would gladly every
hour of her future life engage to endure a suffering as
intense, if it was to be followed by a joy so far outweighing it.'"
Thus speaks the testimony of friendship; and such
or similar experience may have distressed many a
youthful Christian's heart. Well does the enemy of
souls know how to use his weapons, and often most
successfully does he wield them. Sinking amid the
dark waters, how often does the cry ascend, " Lord,
save, or I perish!"
The above is no idle tale of suffering;-no matter
in what form the temptation assails us, let faith yield
to fear and the soul is wrecked on the rocks of unbelief, soon to be engulphed in the overwhelming billows
of despair. Perhaps the success of the arch-deceiver
is never more complete than when he instigates the




306            AUTO B IO G RAP HY.
soul to turn from the mercy-seat, to seek relief in the
pleasures of the world, for
"Satan trembles when he sees,
The weakest saint upon his knees
A prophet has told us respecting his influence and
power, " With  lies ye have made the heart of the
righteous sad, whom I have not made sad."
Though our enemy has great power and great
knowledge, blessed be God his power is not omnipotent-his knowledge is not infinite.  Precious promises beam upon the soul from the radiant pages of
God's holy word.
" There hath no temptation taken you, but such as
is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not
suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, but
will with the temptation also, make a way to escape,
that ye may be able to bear it."
Then trust fully and fearlessly in this blessed assurance, and looking to Jesus for help in every time
of need, repel every attempt to gain entrance into the
citadel of your heart. Then with the devout Newton
may you say,
"Begone, unbelief! My Saviour is near,
And for my relief, will surely appear;
By prayer let me wrestle, and lie will perform;
With Christ in the vessel, I smile at the storm."




CHAPTER XLVII.
RIDE IN  THE CARS.-NIAGARA.-REMINISCENCES.DEPARTURE OF MR. D.-OUR NEW  PASTOR.'WVhat matter whether pain or pleasure fill
The swelling heart one little moment here?
From both alike how vain is every thrill,
While an untried eternity is near I
Think not of rest, fond man, in life's career;
The joys and griefs that meet thee dash aside
Like bubbles, and thy bark right Qnward steer,
Through calm and tempest, till it cross the tide,
Shoot into port in triumph, or serenely glide."
THE summer of 1851 brought but little of the
special influences of God's Spirit upon the  school,
though a few indulged the hope that they "'had passed
from  death unto life," and several minds were awakened to serious reflection.
During  the July recess I decided  to  visit some
friends in western New York. Through the intervention of unavoidable circumstances I missed an opportunity of accompanying a party of friends who
were  about to  proceed  on  the same route; I was
therefore obliged to take the evening train on the
Erie railroad alone, in the darkness and discomfort of
a rainy night.
To add to the disagreeableness of my condition,
in the confusion of departure, my basket, which con



808           AUTOB IO aRA PHY.
tained sundry comforts for traveling, had been left
behind, and not a single rag could I command to
wipe away the tears that would force themselves to
my eyes, as I contemplated my forlorn and solitary
state. All night the dismal train went on. No one
cared for the " lone woman" whom no one knew; no
"friendly Quaker" stepped forward to greet or aid
me.
At that time the arrangements of the road were
such that it was necessary to change cars at Sufferns,
and here new trials awaited me, for so intent were
the gentlenmen in securing entire seats for themselves,
that it was some time before I could find a resting
place for my weary limbs. I finally was permitted
to sit beside a fore'gner, whose bundles I was politely
requested to watch whenever he left the cars for refreshments.
Much has been written on the subject of railroad
courtesy, and much censure has been deservedly cast
upon our sex for the ungracious manner in which
many receive polite attentions from fellow-travelers.
There are those who, by their overbearing arrogance
seem to demands as their prescriptive right, the first
seat-the best seat —indeed all the seats in the car or
stage, that they may desire to appropriate to their
own special indulgence.  But the scene has changed.
The much-abused lords of creation have not only
abundantly avenged themselves upon the offending
fair ones, but they have made the innocent to suffer




NIA G     A  A.            309
with them, in the general outburst of indignation.
Not only do they retain unyielding possession of their
own appropriate seats-to the undisturbed occupancy
of which every reasonable woman would concede that
they have a perfect right-but they contrive to
spread out their ample dimensions so as to convert the
whole into a louznge, and thus effectually bar out every
intruder.
On that dark and rainy night, I myself passed
through three cars, in each of which not less than six
or eight individuals were cosily reposing, before I
could gain permission, with the assistance of the conductor, to watch the stranger's bundles.
But even here the trouble does not end; if a lady
succeeds in securing a seat beside some reluctant
churl, she must hold high her hooped skirts, or she
will find them floating off upon a sea whose waters
cast up filth and dirt. The debt is abundantly paid.
Greek has met Greek, and both have conquered.  As
a traveler, I am ashamed of my countrymen. 0 that
the time might come —the " good time" be hastenedwhen the rights of both sexes shall be fully conceded,
and kindness and courtesy take the place of arrogance
and rudeness.
A visit to Niagara —the wish of a life-time —was at
length accomplished. With the friends of other years,
I stood upon the brink of its rushing waters, and as
my eye rested upon the tumbling rapids, descending
in successive cascades, until they make their final




310           AUTOBIO G R AP H Y.
plunge into the fearful gulf, my mind was overwhelmed; I could scarcely speak; the power of the
Being, who had produced so magnificent a work,
overawed me, and I felt like Elijah, when he hid his
face in his mantle while the glory of the Lord passed
by.  As night threw her dark mantle around us, and
objects were seen, indeed, in the mnist, and we stood
upon the beautiful islet, trembling with the ground
beneath our-feet, the sublimityof the scene increased.
So many miserable attempts have been made to
describe Niagara, and so many truly graphic representations given by the pen and pencil of ready
sketchers, that the common mind may well be satisfied
to wonder and adore, only exclaiming with the inspired writer, "' Great and marvelous are Thy works,
Lord God Almighty."  "The voice of the Lord is
upon the waters; the God of glory thundereth; the
Lord is upon many waters."
The remainder of the summer, after my return to my
home, was marked by no incident of special interest,
but early in the succeeding November the news reached
me of the death of the mother of one of our teachers,
who had endeared herself to me.  In this record of
life's experience, I can not refrain from giving utterance to the feelings that oppressed me, on a Sabbath
full of sad and tender memories, revived by this intelligence, as embodied in a letter to a friend, who has,
from our earliest association, rendered to me the affection of a daughter.




R     E  IN ISC E N   ECES.    311
"In the stillness of this quiet Sabbath evening
(November 16), with thoughts of the past crowding
thickly upon my heart, I may pour out a few of these
thoughts upon you, not to excite a melancholy spirit,
for such is not their effect upon me, but to give a
chastened view of the realities of life, and to point
to that better land where sorrow and weeping can not
enter.
"' Poor L! just one week since she became motherless; that beloved parent was suddenly summoned
away from the family circle, to her rest in heaven.
Friends sorrow not as those without hope; but 0,
how trying are these bereavements.  With what a
pang are those cords snapped asunder which have so
long bound heart to heart.  Well for us if in such
visitations we can see a Father's hand.
" I went to the house of God this morning with all
my sympathies awakened for our dear desolate one,
so early stricken.  The service commenced, and the
second hymn that was selected was
Come we that love the Lord.'
O what a host of memories did it bring up.  It was
the last hymn that I sang with my husband. It was
Sabbath eve-our children were around us in our
quiet happy home, -and as we looked out upon the
landscape as it lay reposing in the bright beams of the
full orbed moon, we felt that our cup of happiness was




312          AU   B I O BIGR AP HY.
full. We sang together,  Come we who love the
Lord,' and we felt that we were
M' arching through Tmmanuel's ground,
To fairer worlds on high.';' In one week from that time he was treading the
courts of heaven, and I, widowed and desolate, was left
a weary pilgrim of earth to pursue my journey of
years sad and solitary. And yet God has not left me
alone. My husband was removed at a time, when it
seemed that I most needed his protection and support,
but God was Himself the husband of the widow and
the Father of her fatherless ones.  He took my beloved daughters to Himself, but lie surrounded me
with loved ones who have been as daughters unto me;
with whom I hope to rejoice before the throne of
God.
" And can I murmur when such blessings are mine?
I trust that it is not in my heart to do this; but I do
not wish to bury the past in forgetfulness. Let it live
to awaken gratitude-to excite to greater energy and
devotion in my Master's cause-and to present new
motives to strengthen those who are weak and desponding.;'Forty-five years ago, this month, three young
friends presented  themselves for admission to the
church of Christ.  As it was then the custom in the
Congregational Churches of New England, to examine the candidates before the assembled members,




OUR  PASTOR' S RESIGANATION.   313
many who felt no peculiar interest in the subject of
religion, came in to see how those who but recently
had been as gay and thoughtless as themselves, would
act and speak on such an occasion.' We felt the embarrassment of our situation, and the
importance of not shrinking from  the avowal of our
feelings.  We knew that many eyes were upon us, and
at the close of the examination, we requested that the
hymn might be sung which commences with
i''m not ashamed to own my Lold,
Or to defend His cause;
Maintain the honor of His word,
The glory of His cross.'' That hymn was sung at the close of the service this
morning. Was it not emphatically a morning of
memories to me?"
Towards the close of the year a new trial awaited
us.   Our pastor, who by his deep interest in the
improvement of the youth in his congregation, and his
earnest efforts to promote their eternal welfare, had
endeared himself to many hearts, was invited to become the spiritual guide of a congregation in a neighboring city, and the wants of that church and people
determined him to listen to their appeal. Great was
the excitement produced by this encroachment as we
deemed it, upon our rights, and many were the arguments used to convince him of the superior importance
of the field in which he was then laboring.
He left us satisfied that his " steps were ordered of




_314          AUTOBIO GRAPH Y.
the Lord," —and followed by the prayers of many a
sorrowing heart that the presence of the Holy One
would still attend him and bless his efforts in his new
field of labor.
In the midst of these agitating events and feelings,
there were some whose minds seemed accessible to the
truth and several hoped in the mercy of the Redeemer.
Judg'ng from appearances from time to time, could
we have had the advantages of a regular ministry, —
had our minds been less affected by passing events,and had my own health been less influenced by these
occurrences, so that more thorough attention had been
given to the religious instruction of the pupils, there
might have been a powerful revival in the school.
Early in March we were much gratified and profited by a visit from the Rev. Mr. Goodell of Constantinople, who gave a very interesting account of the
female Armenian school.  It commenced with seven
girls, all of whom became pious. IXe told us of their
joy when they heard that their fathers and brothers
were persecuted for their attachment to Jesus Christ,
because they were " counted worthy to suffer shame
for His name," and were enabled to stand firm in defence of the gospel. Of fifty-three who had left that
Seminary, fifty-one had become hopefully pious.
On the 28th of the same month, our new pastor,
Mr. S., entered upon his duties and preached two excellent sermons to us from Heb. xi. 4.    - He being
dead yet speaketh."




" I N F L U E N C E."         315
The subject was " Influence," and he illustrated it
by reference to Scripture characters, —to the Waldenses, Reformers, Covenanters of Scotland and Puritans of England and America, —to Howard, Harlan
Page, &c.
At the close of the session which occurred a few
days after his installation, he visited and addressed
the school.




CHAPTER XLVIII,
SUMMER OF  1852.-VISIT TO PHILADELPHIA.-ILLNESS OF C. M. —REVIVAL.
0' O trust in God, the God of our salvation,
Trust in the Lord to heal the desolation;
The cause, now precious in His sight!
He has an arm of boundless might;
O trust in God, nor yield to, fear;
Our Helper is for ever near,
In darkness as in light."
MANY indications, during the summer session of
1852, gave, at times, sweet evidence of the presence
of the Holy Spirit.  The little gatherings for prayer,
which were usually kept up in the Seminary every
day, but which were now  attended  with  renewed
interest, and by increasing numbers, testified that
the' still, small voice" was whispering powerfully to
their hearts; and many were the interviews enjoyed
with subdued and anxious ones.
On the last Sabbath of the session our pastor addressed the youth of the different schools, who were
soon to separate-many, to see each other's faces no
more. The discourse was well calculated to leave a
salutary impression on their minds, and I trust that
seed was sown that will hereafter bear fruit to the
glory of God.




CLOSING INSTRUC T IO N S.           317
Our last religious exercises in the Seminary were
peculiarly solemn.
I first invited to my room all the professed followers of the Saviour. I read to them Paul's injunction
to Timothy.
a Let no man despise thy youth, but be thou an
example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in
charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity."
I urged upon them the duty of cultivating consistency of character-never allowing themselves to do
things, anywhere, which they would not dare to do
under the eye of a parent or teacher.
Afterwards I called in those who hoped that they
had found mercy at the cross during the term, and
sixteen youthful converts seated themselves around
me. To these I read the sixth chapter of John, commencing at the twenty-fourth verse, dwelling particularly on the words,
" Will ye also go away?"
I reminded them of the temptations that were so
soon to assail them, and of the great difference between
their present comparatively secure situation, and the
circumstances in which they were about to be placed.
The vacation would prove a test season to many of
them, and well would it be for them if they did not
yield to its allurements, and return to the "' beggarly
elements of the world." I urged upon them ceaseless
watchfulness. Their first declension would begin in
the closet. They must therefore watch, and resist




318          A UTOB IO GRA PHY.
the least disposition to neglect that consecrated place;
they must look to Jesus for help-must pour out
their hearts before Him, and trust Him  for His
grace, and it would be at all times sufficient for
them.
A large number attended, when I assembled another class to my room.  My heart sank within me
as I looked around upon this interesting group, going
forth, many of them to return no more, without any
Christian principle to restrain or guide them. I read
to them from Revelations iii. 20, ":Behold, I stand
at the door, and knock; if any man hear my voice,
and open the door, I will come in to him, and will
sup with him, and he with me;' and thus He had
stood, rejected or disregarded by them, until, to use
His own beautiful figure, "His head is filled with
dew, and His locks with the drops of the night."
I then contrasted this view of the Saviour's compassion and forbearance with that set forth in the language employed in Proverbs i. 24-31.
"Because I have called and ye refused; I have
stretched out my hand, and no man regarded;
C But ye have set at nought all my counsel, and
would none of my reproof:
" I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock
when your fear cometh."
Faithfully did I try to address them in that parting
hour. Many wept, and all looked sad and solemn.
God grant that those feeble attempts to save the soul,




VACATION.                    319
though made in great weakness and imperfection, may
be followed by a blessing from on high.
Much was accomplished during the year for the
missionary cause.  Mr. S. addressed the missionary
society connected with the Seminary, at its anniversary, in an appropriate and interesting discourse, and
the secretary reported that one hundred and twenty
dollars had been collected, and three boxes prepared
for different missionary stations.
This anniversary was the closing exercise of the
school; then followed the sundering of tender ties-the
sad farewells-the tearful partings, mingled with smiles
of gladness, at the prospect of " Home, sweet home."
Soon after this, vet dearer ties were sundered. A
precious lamb, the fourth that had been removed, was
taken from the flock, and the domestic circle of my
children in Raleigh was again made desolate. A bereaved twin sister, as slhe looked in vain for the companion of her childish sports, was left to wonder why
little Nettie was gone so long away.  lMany hearts
mourn thy departure, sweet babe, whilst thou dwellest
with thy Saviour in the better land, for,
" Art thou not of that band, of whom
He said with wondrous grace,
Behold! their ang'els always stand
Before my Father's flce."
The vacation was spent with friends in Philadelphia. As it was my first- sojourn for any length of
time in that city, much of my time was occupied in




320           A UT OB3  O OR A PHY.
visiting various places of interest.  I first directed
my steps towards Independence Hall, and with feelings amounting almost to awe, seated myself in the
chairs once occupied by Hancock and Thompson. I
looked upon the old " cracked bell" which once pealed
forth the notes of freedom to an oppressed nation, and
almost felt the blood course through my veins with
the energy of youth, as I thought of the noble sacrifices endured, and the noble acts achieved by the
fathers of our country.
Nothing in the Academy of the Fine Arts more
completely enchained my attention than Wittkamp's
" Deliverance of Leyden."  The scene was laid at
the time when that city was besieged by Philip Second
of Spain, in 1574. The Spanish fleet, commanded
by Valdes, is moored in sight. Vanderwerf, the Burgomaster, saw nothing before him but impending destruction; the people were dying of famine; emaciated
forms amnd faces, the look of defiance, and the prostralion and suffering portrayed upon the canvas, all told
the tale of their extremity.  The burgomaster stands
in the centre of the picture-pale, haggard, yet resolute-surrounded by the clamorous multitude, uvrging
him to surrender, and threatening to sacrifice him if he
refuses. With his eyes raised to heaven, he exclaims:
"' My friends, since I must die, it is of little importatnce to me whether I fall by your hand or that of the
enemy.  I shall die satisfied if I can be in any way
way useful to you."




PHILA DELPHIA.                 321
The people were subdued, and Vanderwerf resolved
to break down the dykes that kept out the incursions
of the sea, preferring to perish by the incoming waves
of the ocean, than to trust to the tender mercies of
the enemy. The sudden rush of the waters compelled
Valdes to draw off his forces, and give to the Dutch
admiral an opportunity to advance with his vessels to
the relief of the beleaguered city, news of which was
conveyed by carrier pigeons to the despairing inhabitants, ere it arrived.
While the scene of distress is depicted in the foreground, on the walls and in the distance on the shore,
the uplifted arms, the waving caps, and the exulting
shouts —you can almost imagine that you hear them —
are proclaiming the glad tidings of deliverance.
After relief and freedom were obtained, the Prince
of Orange offered to them two privileges, one of which
they were permitted to choose-immunity from taxation for a certain period of time, or liberty to found a
University in their city.  They wisely chose the
latter, and thus originated the University of Leyden.
At the Laurel Hill Cemetery, two double monuments beautiful in their simplicity, particularly ar.
rested my attention.  On the first, these tributes of
affection were inscribed,
OUR MOTHER;
SHE TAUGHT US HOW TO LIVE, AND HOW TO DIE.
OUR SISTER;
TO URS, A MOTHER-TO THE WOKLD, A SPIRIT OF LOVE,
14*




322          AAUTOBIOGRAPHY.
On the other pair:
LIZZIE;
ANGELS ARE CROWNING THY FAIR YOUNG BROW;
WHY THEN DO WE WEEP?
WILLIAM;
THINK OF ME AS OF A WANDERER WHOSE IIOMEIS FOUND.
The Penitentiary, with all its arrangements for the
safety, comfort, employment and spiritual instruction
of its inmates, has been too often described by admiring visitors to require more than a passing remark.
One little incident related to me by a bystander, will
suffice to show the estimation in which this retreat is
held by those for whose special accommodation it was
designed.
A man had been condemned, for larceny, to several
months' imprisonment in the Moyamensing prison. On
being asked by the presiding judge if he had anything
to say in reference to his sentence, he replied,
" May it please your Honor, I would rather go to
the Penitentiary." The reason for his request having
been demanded,
"It is much more comfortable there," said he, "they
are better fed-the work is not so hard, -and my
morals would be safer."
The court thinking that such disinterested solicitude for the purity of public morals should not go unrewarded, granted his request, and he was sent to the




G I RARD COLLEGE.               823
Penitentiary amid shouts of laughter from the assembled crowd.
Girard College, too, needs no attempts at description; its world-wide reputation and the circumstances
attending its foundation, mark it as a spot of curious
and special interest.  Through the influence of a
friend, I was permitted to inspect the interior of the
room which contains the relics of the eccentric founder of this Institution.  In its centre stands an immense zodiac; and arranged on shelves are models of
various kinds, among which is a model of the college
prepared by Girard himself, his library, china, sword
and gun, hats and boots, clothes-even to his kneepatched pantaloons-chairs, tables, &c., filled the
room.
An amusing though somewhat startling circumstance was related to me, connected with the removal
of Girard's bones to this room, preparatory I believe,
to a new interment. Some persons desirous of viewing the remains of the departed, opened the coffin in
the evening, but holding a lamp too near, to their
utter consternation, a violent explosion was the consequence.  One of their number, more intelligent or
self-possessed than the rest, allayed their apprehensions by suggesting that the explosion was the result
of confined gases and thus the mystery was accounted
for.
An old lady who knew him  well, gave me many
interesting circumstances of his life. For years, in




824           AUTO B1 0 G RAP HY.
his early history, lie trundled a barrow in the streets
of Philadelphia. By degrees he increased in wealth
and began to send ventures to sea. Fortunate in all
his speculations, he soon became the owner of several
vessels trading principally to the West Indies. Previous to the insurrection of the blacks and the massacre of the whites at Hayti, many wealthy Spaniards
and Americans consigned their money and other valuables to his care, intending as soon as they could adjust their affairs to follow to America.  Most of them
with their families were cut off in the ensuing massacre, and as no person survived to claim the property
thus placed in his hands, it eventually became his own,
and laid the foundation for his enormous fortune.
Soon after the commencement of the winter sessions
of 1852-53, our sympathies were deeply enlisted for
one of our pupils, who was laid on a bed of extreme
suffering.
She was a young lady of great promise, but that
scourge of multitudes of our sex, an affection of the
spine, suddenly prostrated her and for weeks we
watched over her as one who was hovering on the
verge of the eternal world. At times, the spasms
brought on by intense agony, were absolutely frightful; and thus she suffered from  week to week, till
months had passed away.
Night after night did we retire to rest, expecting
that the morning would dawn upon a bereaved household, but severe as were her sufferings never did a




SUPPORT IN SUFFERIING.              325
murmur escape her lips-never a word express impatience. Early she had learned to love her Saviour,
and He did not forsake her in this trying hour.
" It is all right."  1" My heavenly Father is very
kind to me."  "Jesus is near to help and comfort
me."  "Mrs. C.. I want you to thank God for His
great mercy to me."
Such was the language of a heart imbued with the
love of the Redeemer, and such the language of her
lips, when able to express her feelings.
But her life was spared;-at the end of three
months she was removed on a bed to her own home,
and there she lingered till Hydropathic applications
restored her to comparative health.
But what effect did this produce upon the young
ladies of the family? God had spoken loudly by His
providences.  He had whispered by His spirit to
many a heart,-" Watch. for ye know not what a day
may bring forth, "-yet the triflers did not listen. The
excitement produced by passing events, occupied their
minds and turned their attention from more important subjects.
My own heart was burdened, and often did I feel
that I could joyfully turn away to my quiet restingplace beneath the evergreens of the cemetery, and return no more.  My soul was sad and dark; in the
bitterness of my spirit, I said, " all these things are
against me." I had hoped for better things in a
spiritual sense-for brighter hours in my pilgrimage,




326          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
but my mind was distracted with cares, and almost
destitute of that peaceful reliance on the Saviour,
which in times past I had so much enjoyed.
A severe family trial quickened our supplications
at the throne of grace, and seemed to awaken thoughtfulness in some minds.
On the evening of the first Sabbath in February, as
the family had been prevented by the inclemency of
the weather, from attendance upon the worship of God
in the sanctuary, I collected the pupils in the study
hall and read to them the sermons that had been
preached during the day —having borrowed them for
that purpose.
One there was in our midst, who wept the whole
evening, and the earnest silent prayer was raised by
many, that some permanent impression might be made
upon the mind of this hitherto thoughtless one. There
was a considerable manifestation of feeling among the
impenitent, but Christians stood aloof and " came not
up to the help of the Lord."
The attention to religion became general in town,
and extending its influence to the school, deepened
the anxiety that had been awakened. "' I wait for Thy
salvation," was my earnest cry, "and in Thy word do
I trust."
Three or four pupils were withdrawn from the
school, the pretext, headache-the real reason, unquestionably, the fear of their parents, that their children would become Christians.




"A  GOLDEN  SEASON."             327
On the day that has been for many years observed
by the churches, as a season of special fasting and
prayer in behalf of our Colleges and other seminaries
of learning, three members of our family professed to
give their hearts to Jesus, and from that time the
good work rapidly progressed.  So occupied was I
with the demands made upon my own strength and
time, that I had little opportunity to look abroad and
enquire into the state of things in town. I felt the
need of faithful, judicious coadjutors in this soul burdening work.  Some whose hearts were right, were inexperienced and deficient in judgment, but God's
promise encouraged me, " They that sow in tears,
shall reap in joy." There is no restraint to the Lord,' to save by many or by few."
On one occasion some excellent remarks were made
to the school, by the Rev. Mr. H., in which he compared the privileges of females in Christian lands, with
those in heathen countries, and their consequent obligations to God.  He' spoke of the importance of securing favorable opportunities for the soul's salvation
and showed that the present was just such a golden
season.  He also showed that the influence which
they exerted over others for good or for evil was great,
and that they could not prevent it.  He illustrated
this position, by reference to recognized principles in
Natural Philosophy. A footprint gives its impulse to
every grain of sand upon the globe; the rain-drop
affects the waters of the ocean; a word spoken gives




328           A U T O B I O G R AP H Y.
impulse to the whole atmosphere;-just so with influence.
Many thrilling remembrances present themselves
to my mind, as I think of the past and recall scenes,
recorded only on memory's tablets, but the all engrossing nature of my work effectually precluded the
possibility of written records, and thus I lost the
minutiae of many passing events, that might have
added interest to these details.
One circumstance, however, I recall to mind that
interested me much. A young lady who had for some
weeks been impressed with a sense of her danger and
guilt, as a sinner against God, came at last to tell me
that she had been to Jesus for pardon, and it seemed
to her that she could see the cross, but that the
Saviour was veiled from  her view.  A  day or two
after, I asked if her faith was strengthened and her
hope brighter; —with a face expressive of a subdued
and trusting spirit, she replied,
"0 Mrs. C., I think that this morning, I caught
some glimpses of glory from  the Saviour on the
cross —I do hope that I trust in His mercy."
As I was one day addressing a company of impenitent pupils, my attention was particularly attracted to
five young ladies who were seated side by side. They
had all come from the same neighborhood and occupied adjoining rooms, forming an interesting group,
whose antecedents were such as rendered them hopeful subjects for special efforts.  I addressed them col



BOUNTIFUL HARVEST.                   329
lectively and conversed with them individually. They
were of an age to appreciate the truth: it had already,
in some measure, made its impress upon their minds,
and now they seemed ready to open their hearts to the
conviction of the necessity of that new birth, which
would make all things new to them.
One after another yielded to the heavenly call, and
soon the grateful song resounded from thankful hearts,
"H ear what the Lord hath done for me."
As the fruit of that season of refreshing from the
Lord, I find about thirty names recorded. May it be
found in the great day of account that these names
are all written in the Lamb's Book of Life.
Glory to that wondrous Grace,
Which hath drawn their hearts to God,
Gained for them a dwelling-place,
In the heavenly, high abode.
Fit them for that holy rest,
Claim them for Thy service here;
Till among the spirits blest,
They in glory shall appear,'




CHAPTER XLIX.
ENLARGEMENT OF THE CHURCH.-MR. D.'S MISSIONARY ADDRESS.-REVIVAL IN  THE WINTER
TERM OF 1854.-DEATH OF FRIENDS.
" If thou would'st reap in love,
First sow in holy fear;
So life, a winter's morn may prove
To a bright endless year."
THE summer of 1853 was so much disturbed. by
various obstacles to permanent serious feeling,-by
the changes rendered necessary in our place of worship on the Sabbath, by the enlargement and repairing of the sanctuary, and by various other causes,that no record appears of conversions during that session.  The seed was sown in hope, —by God's blessing some fruit may hereafter appear, to the glory of
His grace.
Our Missionary Society at its annual meeting, was
again addressed by our late pastor, who had enlisted
the respect and affection of many youthful hearts, and
who cheerfully responded to our invitation to speak to
us once more, on the great work of aiding in the
spread of the gospel through the nations of the earth.
The winter of 1853-54 yielded much fruit to the
glory of God.  Many precious souls we have reason




INTEiRESTING INCIDENT.               331
to hope, turned away from the world and sought pardon and peace through the atoning blood of the Redeemer.  Teachers engaged earnestly in the work:
young converts conversed and prayed with impenitent
companions, and many appeared with the anxious enquiry'" what shall I do to be saved?"
Often have I regretted since I commenced this work,
that intense anxiety and constant care and labor prevented my recording many passing scenes, that would
have added greatly to its interest.  The recollections
of a teacher, furnish me with the following incident:
" One evening, a group of young ladies were assembled in the hall.  A teacher called their attention to
the peculiar beauties of the setting sun, —its. golden
tints richly illuminating the horizon, and fringing the
edges of the light clouds with its parting beams.  H.,
being a great admirer of nature, lingered after the
others had departed.  Miss G. spoke to her of the surpassing beauty of the Sun of Righteousness, who
comes to the soul not only to infuse light to the mind,
but with healing in His beams to overcome the disease
which sin has brought into the troubled spirit.  H.'s
mind filled with the glory of the present scene, was at
once impressed with the all-sufficiency of Christ and
her need of His salvation; and thus commenced her
first serious impressions, which resulted through the
mercyv of God in the consecration of herself to His
service."
Deeply interesting was the gathering of the youth



332          AUTOBIOG RAPHY.
ful band of converts, numbering between twenty and
thirty, who assembled in my room on the last Sabbath
of the term, to receive the parting instructions of their
Mother-friend.
As on a similar occasion in former times, I read to
them a few verses from John vi., " Will ye also go
away?"  "Then Simon Peter said, Lord, to whom
shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." I
spoke of the power of the adversary to draw the heart
from Jesus; of the proneness of that heart to wander;
of the only safety of the young disciple, beset on every
side by snares and temptations; Jesus the alone refuge
of His people, their helper in every time of need
would not forsake them, and in Him they might surely
trust. I then repeated the charge so often given to
my beloved pupils, " Never engage in any pursuit, or
amusement, upon which you can not ask the presence
and blessing of God."
While these interesting scenes were passing in our
midst, the family of a beloved sister was shrouded in
mourning.  The " light of the dwelling" had departed
and the hearts of the bereaved ones were desolate. In
the midst of his people and of his usefulness-for age
had not so impaired his vigor and his power to labor
in the cause of his Master as to diminish his efforts,was this man of God stricken by disease, and the
angel of death commissioned to speak to him-" Come
up hither," " the Lord hath need of thee" in His holy
habitation.




."WELL  DONE!"                  333
It is unnecessary here to give in detail the character of one who presided so long over an Institution,
which has sent forth its hundreds to bless our land
and the world, by their successful efforts to build up
the kingdom of the Redeemer, and to spread the light
of truth among the nations of the earth. The memory
of Doctor B., is enshrined in many youthful hearts,
and when in his declining years he retired from that
sphere of usefulness to the quiet of a country manse,
faithfully did he perform  the duties of his pastoral
office, and stepped as it were fiolm the threshold of the
sanctuary to the presence of his blessed Saviour.
Many hearts mourned his departure and testimonials of respect and affection still linger on the lips of
surviving friends.  Said a clerical friend, who was
called to bear his testimony to the worth of the departed, on that day which forever shrouded him from
the view of his weeping family on earth, "' The highest tribute that we can pay to him is to seek to perpetuate his usefulness, by giving to his teachings and
example a permanent home in our memories and
hearts, and endeavoring to secure to them an enduring
influence over our fellow-men."
" Servant of God! well done I
Rest from thy loved employ;
The battle fought, —the victory won,Enter thy Master's joy.
Rest from thy labor, rest;Soul of the just set free I
Blest be thy memory, and blest
Thy bright example be."




334           AUTOB IO GRA PHY.
On his dying bed, this man of God commended his
afflicted companion to the filial care and affection of
his beloved children. Faithfully had she performed
her maternal duties to them and richly was she rewarded by their devotion to her comfort, and their
active and cheerful efforts to promote her happiness,
and to cheer and sustain the dark days of widowhood
that succeeded. But the crushed spirit, though calm
and peaceful, and the enfeebled frame, never rallied.
In less than eighteen months she too went home to
God, to join the blessed assembly of holy ones, whose
names are written in heaven, and who had already
preceded her to the realms of glory. She was mourned
by a large circle of friends, to whom she was justly endeared by mental and moral worth of no ordinary character. One who knew her long and intimately, writes,
" To a mind enriched by education were added the
charms of a cultivated taste and of social refinement.
Mrs. B. would have shone in any department of life,
but by her distinguished and well balanced piety, she
was eminently qualified to become what she truly was,
a help-meet to her beloved husband in the various and
responsible duties of his public and domestic life."
i" In her death the church on earth lost one of its
most prayerful and devoted friends, but the church
above has added to her treasures another bright and
imperishable jewel."
And I was left alone, the last of that happy group
who had, in other days, gathered around the hearth



LEFT  ALONE.                     3385
stone of the dear old home, where once the bright
and sunny smiles of father and mother shed their
radiance upon hearts full of life and joyousness and
happiness.
Where are they now-that broken family circle.
Through the mercy of God, I trust, reunited in a holier, happier home; while the elie3t of that band of
children still wanders on in her pilgrimage, striving
to fulfil her mission-a miracle of grace, a monument
of God's mercy and forbearance.
"A stranger-lonely here I roam,
From place to place am driven;
I have no home but heaven."
But the thought is indelibly impressed on my heart
that,
" A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorify;
A never-dying soul to save,
And fit it for the sky;
To serve the present age,
My calling to fulfil,
0, may it all my powers engage,
To do my Master's will."
With such an object before me, I may well rejoice
that my threescore years and ten are extended, while
I praise the Father that through infinite grace, thus
" to live is Christ, and to die is gain."




CHAPTER L.
VISIT TO MENDHAM.-MEETING IN THE STUDY HALL.
-ITS RESULTS.-REVIVAL IN  THE WINTER TERM
OF 1854-55.
"What matter whether pain or pleasure fill
The swelling heart one little moment here?
From both alike how vain is every thrill,
While an untried eternity is near!
Think not of rest, fond man, in life's career;
The joys and griefs that meet thee dash aside
Like bubbles, and thy bark right onward steer,
Through calm and tempest, till it cross the tide,
Shoot into port in triumph, or serenely glide."
WORN out with care, anxiety and labor, it was decided by friends and physician that relaxation for a
season was imperatively demanded, and I concluded
to spend a part of the summer of 1854 in the quiet
homes of friends of other days. During the vacation
I spent several days in Mendham, where it was my
privilege to attend a communion season, at which I
witnessed the accession of one hundred and twenty
members to the church of Christ under the ministry
of the Rev. T. II.  Between forty and fifty of these
converts were baptized.  The man of gray hairs, and
the child who had numbered but twelve years; fathers
and mothers who a short time since knew not the
language of prayer, and the youth, lately so gay and
worldly, there kneeled at the altar to receive the sa



MEETING  IN  THE STUDY HALL. 8387
cred symbol of consecration to the Redeemer. Among
them came one who looked back to the time of her
connection with our Institution as the season when
she made the surrender of herself to Jesus.  Another,
for whom  my prayers had often ascended to the
throne of grace, during this revival yielded her heart
to the influences of God's Holy Spirit.  What a
scene for angels to behold   What an accession to
the heavenly company who are
"M /arching through Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high."
How many are rejoicing in the realms of glory over
beloved ones on earth, preparing to follow them to the
mansions of everlasting love!
Previous to my departure from Bloomfield, in June,
I met the pupils on a sabbath evening in the study
hall and solemnly addressed them on the great subject of their eternal welfare, not knowing but it might
prove our last meeting on earth. Letters afterwards
received gave me cheering hope that four of their
number dated their serious impressions from the instructions of that evening, and though one returned
to worldliness and folly, the remainder, I trust, obtained that good hope through grace which shall hereafter prove as an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast.
To those precious notes, written in the flush of the
first love of the young convert, I immediately replied,
and soon I followed these with a letter addressed to
all the pupils in the school.
15




338           AU TO B IO G It A P IY.
Dear Ones All, —I think of you.  0 how often,
morning and evening, the prayer ascends to your
Father and my Father, in your behalf, and the question arises, which I put to you with maternal anxiety,'Is it well with thee?'  Well, as it respects bodily
health, mental improvement, and spiritual preparation
for a better world? Do you ever think of the deep
solicitude with which parental affection w atches to eatchl
every intimation of a loved daughter's improvementof the glow of satisfaction that lights up the countenance when the precious assurance is given'it is well
with thy daughter,'-of the disappointment depicted
in that mother's face as the word falls heavily on her
ear,  your daughter refuses obedience-she is an idler
in the vineyard?'
a; From the general appearance of the pupils in the
Seminary, I anticipated a session of great improvement and pleasant intercourse; and I love to turn
my thoughts homeward, and in my mind's eye, picture you assembled on our beautiful green for recreation, at evening twilight, or as gathered for study
or instruction in the hall of old Harmony.  Often the
question arises in my heart, when shall I take my accustomed place in their midst, and sympathize in their
joys and sorrows? As this gratification can not yet
be enjoyed, remember my parting words,'I have no
greater joy than to hear that my children walk in
~the truth.'
"' The fascinating scenes of earth are rapidly pass



FAREWELL ADDRESS.                  339
ing away; like the'fairy frost work' of a beautiful
vision, they leave only the wreck of broken vowrs o7
promise, the blighting of many fond anticipations, the
gloom and sadness of joys and comforts scattered andl
destroyed. Secure while you may a hold on the aznchor of hope, on which you may safely rest when t!le
storms of life threaten to overwhelm you.
" Lean not on earth-'twill pierce thee to the heart,
A broken reed at best, and oft a spear;
On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires.'
"Give the dew of your youth to the Saviour's
service; trust me, nothing will elevate your characters
like this. Nothing short of this will prepare you to
~be blessings to a degenerate world.'"Enter, then, at once on woman's true mission.
Exert the influence which it is your privilege to extend around you, and then, when you have blessed
your generation by holy effort and example, you will
pass away from earth, loved and lamented, to meet
the many who have been prepared, through your instrumentality, to join in the great anthem  of praise
with the countless throng of the redeemed, saying,
Blessing and honor and glory and power be unto
Him who sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb,
for ever and ever.' "'
At the commencement of the winter season I resumed my duties, and my heart sent up its earnest
petitions for the salvation of souls around me. Verging rapidly towards that period of life which the




840          AUTO B I G   AP IH Y 
Psalmist pronounces " the days of our years," I felt
that what I would do must be done quickly.
I was disappointed in the aid I expected. A few
gave their efforts and their prayers, but the greater
portion of God's children seemed more intent on the
question, "who will show us any good?" than on the
inquiry, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?"  It
seemed too, as though Satan had been let loose upon
us, and at times I was ready to forsake my charge,
and seek a quiet resting-place, where I might die in
peace. I felt that too heavy a burden was laid upon
me in my declining years, and I shrank from the
trial.  With a sorrowful spirit I sought strength and
direction at the mercy-seat, and there I was assured
that the sustaining grace of an ever present Saviour
was granted, and that an Almighty arm was around
me.  Thus supported, I resolved to await His direction, and to be governed by His providence.  I spent
a. Sabbath with friends in the city, a quiet, retired,
and holy day, for the rain prevented my attending
the worship of God in the sanctuary.  I spread out
my case before the Lord; I made a new conseoration
of soul and body to H-is service, and I resolved to
remain and die at my post, if such was the will of
God concerning me, though trials should cluster
around me, and duties and responsibilities crush me
to the grave. And they did come, with a force that
almost destroyed me.  The cases of ——, with all
their attendant circumstances, ca. me over my soul like




TIMELY  APPEAL.                 341
the surging billows; but the Lord mercifully brought
them to submission.  The results to one, for a season,
were especially happy.  Possessing a strong mind,
an indomitable will, and a proud spirit, H. had never
been conquered, and when compelled to admit that
she had so sinned against others that a public acknowledgment was inevitable, she was driven to look into
her own heart, and see its alienation from God.  A
little incident that occurred in the school-room, helped
to increase serious thought and feeling. Overcome
by severe exertion of body and mind, at the close of
evening worship, I fainted and was taken to my room.
HI. expressed much sympathy fbr me, and her fears
that'I should not recover.  A friend who stood near
said to her:
s Mrs. C. is prepared for a sudden summons, but
H. would you be ready should such a call be made to
you, to appear before your Maker?"'
a' Oh no, Miss W.," she replied, with much feeling,
" I should not. I am intellectually convinced of the
truth, but my heart is unaffected."
Then, while the voice of prayer was heard in several
surrounding rooms, she threw her arms around the
neck of her friend, and kissing her, retired in tears to
her own chamber. Conviction of her great sinfulness
followed, and she was thence led, as we hoped, to trust
in Jesus for salvation.
Previous to this a few had indulged the hope t hat
they bad passed from (leath unto spiritual life,; a'l




342          A UTOB IO GR APII Y
from this time there was a steady increase of feeling,
which gave us the comforting assurance that the Spirit
of God was with us of a truth. The whole work was
characterized by deep impressions of God's truth, —
solemn and still —with little excitement or outbursts
of mere sympathy.  Christians awoke to their duty,
and many labored much to bring their companions to
the cross of the crucified One. The session with its
labors and blessings passed by, and the account was
closed for eternity, and we praised and extolled the
King of heaven for His wondrous mercy to the rebellious children of men.
" The winter was over and gone, — the flowers appeared on the earth, —and the singing of birds was
heard in the land,"-and our study hall again became
the home of the student.  But increasing years were
pressing upon lme the necessity of lessening my labors
in the school-room.
A record of the feelings with which I completed my
seventy years of pilgrimage, can not be irrelevant in
this place.  "May 23, 1855.  This day completes
my threescore years and ten.  What a world of memories have been revealed to mv soul.  How have I retraced the steps of my eventful life and traveled over
the past, stopping by the way to shudder at the precipices; to tremble at the tempest and the billows that
at times threatened to overwhelm me; to recall the
trials, the privations, the hardships, such as few missionaries can recount in their list of tribulations; the




RE TR O SP ECT IO N.           343
maternal anxieties and self-denying efforts to educate
my children for usefulness and respectability; the
heart-breaks and disappointments of many a cherished
hope; the months, yea, years of sickness of the heart
and the body; the bereavements of those most dear,
and the lonely years of a weary pilgrimage, when I
felt that I was almost alone in this great busy world;
these are all registered in my heart of hearts.
" And was this all that memory brought to light?
Were there no: Amaranthine flowers,' blooming in
thy pathway? No sweet revealings to thy soul of the
Spirit's power to bless,-no heaven imparted ray,
shining into thy stricken heart; no grace to strengthen;
no promises in which to trust; no good, resulting
from all these sorrows and privations?
" Blessed be God I can speak of mercy as well as
of judgments, and I would do it with a thankful spirit.
And here, near the close of my earthly pilgrimage,
would I leave my testimony to the mercy and forbearance of my heavenly Father, and to His faithfulness
in the performance of His gracious promises.  Truly
IHe has been the'husband of the widow, and the
Father of the fatherless.'
"When bereft of my guide and my best earthly
friend, I laid hold on God's own promise,' Leave thy
fatherless children and I will preserve them, and let
thy widows trust in me,' He comforted and helped
me.  Ofttimes I should have sank beneath the dark
waters, but His right hand upheld me. When'af



344           A  TO  B    GR A PHY.
flicted, tempest-tossed and not comforted,' my way all
hedged up, Cfightings without and fears within,' His
Spirit has whispered  peace-be still, and know that
I am God.'''Thy Maker is thy husband and thy Redeemer the Holy One of Israel.' -'The Lord hath
called thee as a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit.
For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with
great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I
hid my face from thee, but with everlasting kindness will
I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.'
" Trust —trust in Him and IHe shall bring it to
pass, has been written upon my guide-board through
life, and now through grace I can say,'My heart
trusted in Him and I was helped.' "
The anniversary of the society which had for so
many years been almost identified with my very existence, had now arrived, and for the last time I was to
preside at its annual celebration.
Many beloved friends, teachers and pupils of other
days were gathered within our walls, to offer the
parting hand to the mother-friend who was " passing
away," and to give expression to the feelings still
warm in their hearts.
Mr. V. D., who had recently returned from a tour
on the eastern continent, addressed the society in an
interesting and impressive discourse, and our secretary
in her report, gave us a summary of the operations of
the society, since its first formation in Bloomfield,
in 1837.




1RESULTS.                 345
Much had previously been done in the Seminary in
Vermont, to aid the cause of foreign and domestic
missions, and two heathen children in Ceylon had been
adopted as beneficiaries of the Missionary Society, who
were placed in the female school at Oodooville. When
the Missionary Society was organized in Bloomfield,
those children were transferred to that association, and
others were added from time to time, till the names of
nine were recorded on our books.
Of these, three have married and have exhibited the
blessed example of Christian families amid the darkness of Paganism.  Two died in the faith while yet
members of the Seminary, and four are still in the
course of their education.
For the Foreign Missionary and other kindred societies, $2,415 have been collected; which with fifty or
sixty boxes of clothing, sent at various times to different parts of the world, valued at $2,736, makes the
sum total of $5,151, as the appreciable results of our
missionary efforts.
But how inadequate are figures and ordinary statis*tics to measure the results of Christian effort.
And now my exhausted energies and "s often infirmities," reminded me that I must retire from the
weight of responsibility that would soon place me by
the side of my sleeping ones, Added to this consideration, was a desire to leave my testimony to the unmerited grace of God and His wonderful mercy manifested in all His dealings with the wanderer.




346           AU TO   IO GR A  H Y.
I had long contemplated the possibility of accomplishing such a work, and retirement from the duties
of the school would alone enable me to enter upon the
task.
I therefore, at the close of the summer term resigned my situation, and closing my connection with
the Seminary, sought a quiet, retired home, far from
the din of business, where I could occasionally,
" Iear the stir of the great Babel
And not feel its ipower."
It was not without many conflicts and trials of feeling that I bade adieu to scenes and spots hallowed in
my recollections as the places whence ascended the
first accepted prayer; the first lispings of praise from
hearts and lips unused to the songs of Zion.  And
that consecrated room-rendered sacred as the birthplace of souls, —as the chamber from which arose to
the abodes of the blessed the spirits of my departed
Eliza, and of the precious lamb that I had hoped had
been given me to take her place, and soothe my sorrow,- -"did I not feel," as I turned away from  all
these, and
"Through the shadowy past,
Like a tomb searcher, memory ran,
Lifting each shroud, that time had cast
O'er buried hopes."
In accordance with the wish expressed by several
friends, I subjoin a summary, as correct as my papers
will allow me to make it, of the number of pupils who




RESULTS.                  347
were under my instruction from the commencement of
my labors in Vermont until 1855, when I withdrew
from my connection with the Seminary in Bloomfield.
The number taught in these different places amounts
to about one thousand eight hundred and fifty.
The number of teachers and pupils who have consecrated themselves to the work of foreign missions,
from these several Seminaries, is sixteen; but of
those who have gone out as missionaries to the West,
or as teachers of youth, no accurate estimate can be
made.
In like manner we can not speak with certainty of
the number who, in the judgment of charity have
passed from death unto life.




CHAPTER LI.
TRIALS OF TEACHERS.-WANT  OF DISCIPLINE  AT
HOME.-ILLUSTRATION.-OBSTACLES IN THE WAY
OF EDUCATING YOUNG LADIES.
"Where shall a teacher look, in days like these
For cars and hearts that they can hope to please?
For beck'ning pleasure leads them wide astray,
They burst the bonds, and cast the yoke away."
MUCH has been said and many treatises written, to
impress on the mind of woman the extent of her influence on society, and especially on the little circle
gathered around her in her own beloved home. That
such enforcements are called for, in this age of fashion
and worldliness, no one can deny, or too deeply deplore. We need but to take a view of a modern
school-room  to fathom  the trials to which many a
conscientious teacher is subjected, to understand fully
that we have reached the times portrayed with so
much feeling by the Prophet, " The child shall behave himself proudly against the ancient."  " As for
my people, children are their oppressors, and women
rule over them. 0, my people, they which lead thee
cause thee to err."
No discriminating observer of the present generation can fail to observe that the reins of government




PARENTAL NEGLECT.                  349
are not, in most cases, in parental hands.  Disguise
it as many strive to do, the "I can't" and the "I
won't" of the child controls the parents.
"Father," said a very precocious young lady, just
entering her teens, "you need not say one word
about my taking music lessons; I don't like it, and I
won't study it."
Stepping to her side, and laying my hand on her
shoulder, I said, " Young lady, we require our pupils
to learn, and to obey, the fifth commandment."
The foundation of the evil complained of, lies in the
neglect of the parent to enforce the first lessons of
obedience. These first lessons, it is true, must be
taught by the mother; she always is, or she always
should be, near to check the impetuosities of childhood, to repress the first outbreaks of passion, to impress on the infantile mind the importance and the
beauty of truth, and to teach her child that from the
decision of parental authority there can be no appeal.
But while such holy responsibilities rest upon the
mother, if she is to be successful she must have the
entire sympathy and will of her husband.  Forgetting, in the whirl of business, the Divine injunction,
to give " honor unto the wife as unto the weaker vessel, as being heirs together of the grace of life, that
your prayers be not hindered," forgetful that he derives his name from the significant appellation Htouseband, which unites all domestic interests in one, too
often he suffers the weary, perhaps nervous partner




350           AUTOBIOGRAP Y.
of his life to plod on from day to day in her slow
progress of educating her offspring for God's service,
with scarcely a word of encouragement —oftentimes
in direct opposition to her will: beeause, forsooth, he
is absorbed in business through the day, and so seldom
can enjoy the society of the little ones at home, that
he must be allowed to indulge them in their demands
upon his yielding spirit.  No wonder that children
disregard the commands of a mother who, in these
trying circumstances, possesses not firmness of principle and gentleness of spirit to enforce obedience.
Pass from household to household, and how often
is the heart of the Christian pained by the general
failure to compel prompt and entire submission to the
authority of the parent. The examples presented of
the influences of such training are too abundant to
need further illustration. They are scattered broadcast over the land.
Mothers of the present day! I fearlessly appeal
to your hearts and consciences-is not this the general training of thousands of our children who are
rapidly growing up to take your places in the community?
Forgetting, or perhaps ignorant of the fact that
the impress of the first few years stamps the future
character of the candidate for eternity, the training
process is deferred till the child, as the parent hopes,
shall have attained an age when it will yield to reason and to moral suasion. Thus the parent becomes




A MOTHIER' S CO-OPERATION.   851
the subject of the " Young Dominion," and the juvenile lord reigns triumphant in the domestic castle.
Thus prepared to assert his or her rights in all circumstances, our  young patriarchs" are transferred
to the supervision of teachers, who are expected to
transform their youthful charges into models of propriety, gentility, and scholarship.  Would the parents
encourage the disheartened instructors, by their cooperation in the great work committed to their trust,
there might arise some hope of success, but alast!
such co-operations are "' few and far between." Memory reveals a case of years departed.  A mother-a
lovely Christian mother-placed in my care two interesting children.  " They have many faults, Mrs. C.,"
she said, "but you need never fear to make me acquainted with them.  Correct them  when they go
astray, and you will always find that you have my
confidence and co-operation,"' and she always sustained me in mray efforts to train these children for
God's service. Our covenant God brought them
both, as we trusted, into the family of His disciples.
A few years passed, and this beloved mother became
a saint in glory. The father, unfit to manage spirits
that required a wise and guiding hand, filled with
care, and borne down with sorrow, suffered these
daughters to assume the reins of government, and by
his blind confidence in their ability to control themselves, entirely paralyzed the efforts of their teachers
for the good of his children.




352          AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
Many similar cases loom up before my mind, clearly
illustrating the effect of so unwise a course. Many
have been placed under my care, upon whose word,
according to the testimony of the parent or guardian,
no reliance could  be placed.  Something in the
course of regulations or discipline displeased the
young lady-false statements were made to the parents, and notwithstanding the previous testimony,
that the child would deceive, these statements were
believed, the teacher treated with disrespect, perhaps
with abuse, and the pupil withdrawn from the school.
And what, in most cases, is the plea of the mother?'My child has a very peculiar disposition, she is
exceedingly sensitive, and can not bear reproof, and
the teacher does not understand her temperament,
and consequently does not manage her aright." Such
remarks are often repeated in the presence of the offended child, and as a necessary consequence the confidence of the pupil in the ability of the teacher to
instruct wisely and judiciously is destroyed, and her
influence for good lessened, or wholly neutralized.
The following extracts are taken from a paper on
Female Education, read before the American Association for the Advancement of Education, at its annual
meeting in 1852, by R. L. Cooke:' Thus many a teacher labors under the imputation of incompetency or unfaithfulness, when every
energy of soul and body has been brought into exercise, and that too with reasonable success, because




:INDRANCES.                  353
unreasonable expectations have been excited in the
parent's mind, which have not been and never can be
realized.  Said a mother to me some years since,
whose daughter had been five months a member of
our Seminary:
"'I do not see that my daughter has corrected all
her bad habits since she has been with you. She is
almost as careless as she was before she came to you.
it was to overcome these habits that I sent her from
home.'
"' Do you expect, madam,' I replied,' that we are
able, in one term, to undo what, under your maternal
care, it has taken sixteen years to establish? We
are not omnipotent; in the short space of time that
you have allotted us, we can not break up habits or
overcome propensities which you have not been able,
in a lifetime, either to prevent or to subdue.'
"' Another serious obstacle to tile discipline of the
female mind; arises from the rapidity with which our
pupils are required to advance in their studies.''Progression is the watchword of the day; we
must thinc fast, or fall behind the spirit of the age.''Knowledge must be attained with a degree of rapidity approximating, in some measure at least, to that
which characterizes everything else, otherwise time
could not be afforded for its attainment at all.'
"An ambitious mother, or perhaps a daughter vain
of her position or her looks, are alike in haste to introduce to the world this scion of luxuriant growth,




354          AUTOBIO GRAP IH Y
that she may early'enjoy life,' or catch some of the
butterflies of the day, that are ever ready to flit
around the new comer, and to lend their influence to
the increase of folly and vanity.
" Probably in no enlightened country on the globe
are children more anxious to be esteemed, or earlier
permitted to become men and women than in our
own; it has been with much truth remarked, that in
the United States there is no such period as youth;
we jump at once from childhood to fancied maturity.
In female education is this evil most apparent and
most serious in its consequences. As soon as a young
lady has attained that age when she begins to appreciate the advantages of a well-stored mind, and the
influence that it will secure for her in society-when
she is prepared to profit most, by instruction-the
usages of society, perhaps the mistaken eagerness of
parents themselves, call her away from her studies to
assume her position in society, soon, it may be, herself to become the head of a family, destined to train
other immortal minds, while as yet her own is only
just dawning into maturity. The idea that young
ladies who have reached this point will perfect their
education by the aid of private tutors or by personal
application, after they have given up the duties and
the tasks of the school-room, is a delusion that deceives at first, but is soon abandoned.  The consequence of this is that the general standard of female
education with us is low compared with that of Eng



THE'WARFARE  ENDED.               35
land, and perhaps most of the countries of Europe.
But while these various obstacles are well calculated
to discourage conscientious teachers, and to excite
the heart-sickening inquiry,'who hath believed our
report?' many bright oases are sprinkled over the
desert, and upon their'tent in the wilderness' many
bright sunbeams shed their cheering warmth to gladden the heart that would otherwise sink in despondency.  Not unfrequently the affection of grateful
hearts is permanently secured, and the seed sown in
years gone by, springs up to be replanted in other
soil. perhaps to furnish fruit in the juvenile vineyard
of the youthful mother."
As the wearied, worn out veteran, at the close of
a long life of labor, casts her eye over the great map
of earth, and views, in imagination, many of her loved
ones whom she has followed with her prayers, occupying stations of usefulness as missionaries in our own
or foreign lands-as mothers or heads of families -or
as teachers, seeking to obey the Divine injunction,
"freely ye have received, freely give," and feeling
that to their influence and example the welfare of the
rising generation is committed-will not the aged
pilgrim, with such a prospect before her, close her
eyes upon the " memories' that reveal the thorns and
briars of her pathway, and thank God that she was
suffered to be a co-worker with the Redeemer in
training hearts and minds for such a glorious work.
And how sweet is the thought that, as one after




356              A U T O B I o  R A PH Y.
another is passing away from earth; and increasing
the' attractions of heaven," that,' Our best affections here
Are not like the toys of infancy;
The soul outgrows them not,
We do not cast them off."' When, soon or late, we reach that coast,
O'er life's rough journey driven,
May we rejoice, no wanderer lost,
A family in heaven,"
THE  END.