Jan. 22, J841, 
 
 March 18, 1874. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. SOPHIA BRONSON TITTERINGTON. 
 
 / 
 
 “■ They have but left our weary ways- 
 
 To live in memory'here, in heaven by love and praise.” 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 WOMAN’S BAPTIST MISSIONARY SOCIETY, 
 
 
 OF THE WEST. 
 
 1882 , 
 
 ## 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SERIES No. 3. 
 
 \ 
 
 Jan. 22, 1841. 
 
 March 18, 1874. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. SOPHIA BRONSON TITTERINGTON. 
 
 u They have but left our weary ways 
 
 To live in memory here, in heaven by love and praise.” 
 
 CHICAGO : 
 
 WOMAN'S BAPTIST MISSIONARY SOCIETY, 
 
 OF THE WEST. 
 
 1882. 
 
James Guilbert, Printer. 
 
MARIA BRONSON 
 
 The Assam valley might in all justice be called the “Para¬ 
 dise of India.” The plains of Bengal are flat and arid, while 
 this beautiful valley through which flows the Brahmaputra 
 river, is clothed with perpetual verdure. 
 
 The province of Assam lies south-east of the Himalaya range. 
 The course of the river, after breaking through its lofty 
 mountain barrier, determines the direction of the valley. 
 Ranges of hills bound this plain, running parallel with the 
 river, forming the boundaries on the north-west and south¬ 
 east. These hills are inhabited by many warlike tribes, as the 
 Garos, Mikirs, Nagas and others, all of which present a grand 
 field for missionary labor. The approach to Assam is thus 
 well described: “It is reached from Calcutta, the nearest 
 sea-port by ascending the Ganges a short distance, and its 
 tributary the Brahmaputra. Nearing Assam, distant hills are 
 to be seen. They become more frequent and closely grouped, 
 till, as you enter the valley, you pass through a gateway of 
 rocky, high hills, beautifully covered with tropic verdure, 
 wild and romantic in the extreme, and continuing like bul¬ 
 warks each side of the deep and rapid stream.” 
 
 Going up the river past native villages and English stations, 
 we come at last to Jaipur, which is situated in the Northern 
 
4 
 
 part of the province, almost beneath the shadow of the Hima¬ 
 laya. Here, at this wild lonely station, Jan. 22nd, 1841, was 
 born Maria Bronson, second daughter of Miles and Ruth 
 Montague Bronson. Soon after her birth the family removed 
 to Nowgong, a station in central Assam, situated on the Kul- 
 lung river, a branch of the Brahmaputra. 
 
 Around the old Nowgong home the sweetest associations 
 linger. One by one, little children came to brighten the exile 
 of the parents, till six daughters filled the mission bungalow 
 with music and sunshine. 
 
 For seven years Maria remained with her parents in India. 
 Very few traces are left of those early years. Her older sister 
 remembers the missionary spirit she shewed even then. Old 
 native women, still living in Nowgong often speak of “Maria 
 Baba,” and the sympathy she manifested for the degraded 
 heathen around her. Often she asked permission to give her 
 own little dresses to clothe the poor, naked children, whom 
 she used to gather about her, and teach of the one true God, 
 and have them learn the Catechism, and recite it to her. 
 Soon came to these parents the duty which constitutes 
 the great trial of Missionary service. More than the exile 
 from home and native land, is the stern necessity of sending 
 away from them their darling children. Oh, the agony of the 
 mother’s heart. But the children cannot be reared in that 
 climate, in either physical or moral health, so the sacrifice 
 must be made, though the hearts of the parents are nigh to 
 breaking! 
 
 In the year 1849 when Maria was eight years old, the 
 father and mother took five of the little band of daughters and 
 brought them to their native land. The youngest, a lovely 
 
5 
 
 child of eighteen months, was of too tender an age to be ex¬ 
 posed to the hardships and privations of the long sea voyage, 
 so she was left behind in the loving care of dear missionary 
 associates. The good shepherd took the little lamb to his own 
 fold during the parents’ absence. 
 
 The voyage homeward was a formidable undertaking with 
 five restless little children, the oldest only ten years of age. 
 It was long and tedious, and Mr. and Mrs. Bronson went on 
 shore at Boston, with their charge, thankful that they 
 had been permitted to cross the ocean in safety. Once in 
 America, the burden of the parents hearts was a what shall 
 be done with the children?” They committed this, with all 
 their other anxieties, to their Father in heaven. Pleasant 
 Christian homes opened their doors for each of the little ones, 
 with one exception. The right place not offering itself for 
 their fourth daughter Hattie, they took her back to India with 
 them. Maria and her sister Lizzie were privileged to find a 
 home together. A Christian lady, to whom had been denied 
 the gift of children of her own, lavished upon them the love 
 and devotion of her generous heart. The name of Mrs. Davis 
 Cotes, of Springfield, N. Y. will ever be held in loving grate¬ 
 ful remembrance by many for the service she did for Christ 
 and the cause of missions. At this time she was principal of 
 the flourishing school, known as “ Locust Hill Female Semi¬ 
 nary” in Springfield. The free advantages of this school 
 were open to Maria and her sister. After a time it was closed 
 on account of Mr. Cotes’ failing health, but the education of 
 the sisters went on without interruption. Mrs. Cotes was 
 possessed of ample means which were freely expended for the 
 benefit of her adopted daughters. Governesses were provided 
 
6 
 
 at home, and at one time they attended for a few terms the 
 “Cherry Valley Female Seminary” an institution ten miles 
 from Springfield. Maria’s journal kept through these years 
 containing a faithful record of her life, and sent monthly to her 
 parents in India, gives us glimpses of an energetic, positive 
 character, and of a strength of will which often gave cause for 
 repentence, but, which under the wise control of her foster- 
 mother, added to the race efficiency of later years.* 
 
 When sufficiently advanced to pass the examinations at Mt. 
 Holyoke Seminary, Maria and her sister went there hoping to 
 take the entire course. They were ambitious, and like too 
 many others, the system prevailing there was too much for 
 their strength and endurance. Maria’s school days ended with 
 a long and dangerous illness, during which her friends des¬ 
 paired of her life, while her sister, whose history during these 
 years seems so closely entwined with hers, as hardly to be 
 separated from it, struggled along with failing strength, until 
 she too left school to be a life-long invalid. Anxious to com- 
 
 *Soon after finding a home at Springfield, Maria and Lizzie were converted and united 
 with the Presbyterian Church, of which their foster-parents were members. From the 
 first, Maria’s religious life seemed to be of an active rather than a meditative type. As 
 one has aptly said in reference to her, she shewed her “ faith by her works.” Her 
 journal shows her to have been conscientious and highly appreciative of the loving care 
 and training bestowed upon her. 
 
 A few words will explain a matter which has puzzled many. Maria’s name, especially 
 in her private correspondence often appears as Maria Bronson Cotes, and it is so given 
 upon her tomb-stone. The facts in the case are these:—Mrs. Cotes adopted the girls 
 legally, thus giving them a right to her name, that in the case of her sudden death, they 
 should not be left unprovided for. Their jtvn name was by no means given up, but the 
 name of Cotes was added. When Maria accompanied her father back to India, under 
 appointment from the Missionary Union, she was known under the name of Bronson, as 
 was natural under the circumstances. Yet, as has been said, her love and gratitude to 
 her foster-mother led her to retain her name as far as possible, and so we frequently find 
 the full signature in letters to family and personal friends. 
 
 In 1855, Mrs. Bronson returned to America,bringing her daughter Harriette, and Mrs. 
 Cotes had taken this child also into her heart and home, so that three of the sisters were 
 sheltered in one Christian household. The children were permitted to greet both parents 
 a few years later, when failing health drove them from the field at the time of the Sepoy 
 rebellion, and pleasant gatherings were held at their temporary home at Hamilton, 
 N. Y. 
 
7 
 
 plete the course she did not complain until the mischief was 
 beyond repair. Her dear foster-mother spared no means 
 necessary to restore the lost health, while Maria to whom the 
 care of the sick seemed a special gift watched over her suffer¬ 
 ing sister with the tenderest care. 
 
 Maria’s intellectual endowments were above the medium, 
 still her bent was practical rather than purely intellectual and 
 scholarly. She belonged to the New-England type of 
 efficient, clear-headed women, whose energy and executive 
 ability must find a tangible outlet. This very trait made her 
 the missionary that she was. She was quick to plan, equally 
 ready to execute. 
 
 About the year 1863, Maria went to Lawrence, Mass., to 
 visit the family of her eldest sister. While here her lungs 
 having been troublesome with tendency to cough, she entered 
 the school of u Physical Culture,” in Boston, under the charge 
 of Dr. Dio Lewis, and took a course of his “ Light Gymnas¬ 
 tics.” This proved of great benefit to her physically, and after 
 graduating in one of the normal classes, she and her youngest 
 sister, who had previously taken the same course, went to 
 Auburn, N. Y., to teach gymnastic classes. They met with 
 good success during their stay, and Maria, as usual, made 
 many warm friends. She had a singularly winning manner, 
 which never failed to attract those around her, and usually a 
 friendship once made was life-long. 
 
 Soon after this time, the shadow of a great sorrow fell upon 
 her life, and her health, both physical and mental, suffered in 
 consequence. Pier friends watched her with solicitude, fearing 
 that the old energy and strength would never return. Every¬ 
 thing that love could procure was lavished upon her, and at 
 
8 
 
 last Maria began to rally. Her return to health was not rapid, 
 but it was sure, and once more she was her old self, except 
 that the busy brain planned more eagerly and the hands were 
 more restless in their activity. 
 
 In 1868 the glad news came that thebeloved parents were 
 again on their way home. This was to be the last home coming 
 for the precious mother, for she soon entered the heavenly 
 home. Dr. Bronson’s health was in a very precarious con¬ 
 dition, and his life depended on an immediate change of 
 climate. During the trip from Calcutta to London he im¬ 
 proved rapidly, and Mrs. Bronson’s health was unusually 
 good. But sad times awaited them. One morning on the 
 voyage, Mrs. Bronson was violently thrown from a couch in 
 the upper cabin, which fall broke the hip-bone, and inflicted 
 other injuries. The poor sufferer was carried to her berth and 
 the rest of the journey was passed in agony. The lurching 
 of the steamer would undo all the work of bandaging and 
 placing the limb, so that no relief could be obtained before 
 reaching New York. Once there, the best medical aid was 
 procured, so that in a few weeks she was able to be taken to 
 Springfield, N. Y., to her anxiously waiting children. 
 
 The mother’s heart, for so many years repressed in its long¬ 
 ings, cried out to have her children all about her once more. 
 So it was arranged that all should meet at Chicago, at the 
 home of Mrs. Tolman, the eldest sister, and spend the winter 
 together. 
 
 This plan was carried out, but the joy of being together 
 was tempered with dark shadows of coming sorrow. The 
 beloved mother was slowly, but surely Aiding away. The 
 shock to her system from the accident on the homeward 
 
9 
 
 journey was too great, and a terrible wasting disease took 
 possession of her frame. It was pitiful to see her look around 
 upon her daughters, whom she had given up when little 
 children, now grown to womanhood without her loving 
 watch-care, and to hear her say, u My life has been one long 
 hunger for my children. God helped me, else I should have 
 died long ago!” 
 
 There was almost more sorrow than joy mingled with that 
 winter’s reunion. The dear invalid sister was stricken down 
 with brain-fever, went down to the river’s very edge, and even 
 dipped her foot in its cold waters; then came, oh, so slowly, 
 back to life and consciousness again. Then the mother’s 
 constant suffering, as the clay tenement wasted away, was 
 agony to the watching ones who loved her. 
 
 During the. fall and early winter, Maria and her youngest 
 sister taught a select school in the south part of the city, also a 
 private class in gymnastics. Her energy and perseverance 
 were strongly displayed in this enterprise, overcoming 
 obstacles that to many would have been insuperable. Her 
 mother’s health failed so rapidly, that after a while, all outside 
 work was necessarily given up, that she might take her place 
 by the bedside as nurse and chief caretaker to the dear one, a 
 task for which she was peculiarly fitted. 
 
 It was during this winter, before the hope of her mother’s 
 ultimate recovery was given up, that she decided to return to 
 India with them, and take up mission work as the work of her 
 life. With the delusion of disease, Mrs. Bronson thought she 
 would be able to return to Assam the next fall; and talked 
 much of the happiness it would be to have Maria with them. 
 She clung to this hope to the very last, and no one had the 
 heart to tell her it could never be. 
 
IO 
 
 While in Chicago, Maria and her sister Hattie, were bap¬ 
 tized by their father into the fellowship of the First Baptist 
 Church of that city. It will be remembered that Mrs. Cotes 
 being a member of the Presbyterian church, her adopted 
 daughters had joined that organization. Maria retained her 
 membership with the first church until her death, and always 
 regarded it with the deepest affection. 
 
 In the spring of 1869, there was a breaking up of the family 
 circle, united after so many, many years of separation. The 
 youngest daughter, Sophie, was married, going to her new 
 home in the west, after which, Dr. Bronson, accompanied by 
 Maria, took his wife to her early home in Central New York, 
 the other girls went back to the dear Springfield home, leav¬ 
 ing Mrs. Tolman once more alone with her own family. Mrs. 
 Bronson’s health still failing rapidly. She was taken to the 
 Water Cure at Elmira, N. Y., with Maria still her faithful, 
 devoted nurse and care taker. Everything that love and 
 medical skill could suggest, was done, but the lamp of life 
 flickered for a while in its socket, then went out forever. To 
 the last her heart was with the dear mission. Among her 
 parting words to her husband were these: “Hasten back to 
 our loved work. I will be thy guardian angel, and await thee 
 at the pearly gate.” Maria’s tender ministrations were an in¬ 
 expressible comfort to her, so long deprived of the companion¬ 
 ship of her children. The pet name “ Mitie,” used in the long 
 ago childhood, was oftenest on her lips. 
 
 An extract from Maria’s journal, written at this time, will 
 show the depth of love and devotion in her heart, for her 
 sainted mother. The date is SejDt. 30th, 1869. 
 
 “About seven o’clock this evening, darling mamma passed away to 
 the spirit land. O, what months of suffering have been hers’. Since 
 
II 
 
 May I have been with her almost constantly. She sighed for rest. God 
 has given it to her, the “Rest that remaineth for the people of God!” 
 When I found she would never speak to me again, I never could do any¬ 
 thing more for her, my heart was almost broken. Dear Saviour, comfort 
 dear papa! Dear, sainted mamma!” 
 
 The precious remains of the dear mother were taken to her 
 native village of Madison, N. Y., for burial. The emaciated, 
 suffering look passed away from her face, after the death angel 
 had set his seal upon it. The lost youth and beauty came 
 back, and an expression of such perfect peace, that all who 
 looked upon her in the flower-laden casket, felt that God had 
 indeed given “ to His beloved, sleep!” 
 
 After the funeral, Maria’s heart and hands were full with 
 the preparations for an early departure of herself and father 
 for India. Two were to go in a lonely path when there were 
 to have been three, but one had been called by the Master to 
 exchange the earthly toil for the heavenly crown. Maria felt 
 that she had an especial work to do, in being the companion 
 and support of her bereaved father, and nobly did she fulfill 
 her mission. A month after Mrs. Bronson’s funeral, Dr. 
 Bronson and Maria went to St. Louis to attend the anniver¬ 
 saries. Before this time all missionaries had been sent to 
 India by the old route on sailing vessels. It was proposed at 
 this meeting that funds be raised to send these two by the 
 overland route, as being more comfortable and expeditious. 
 
 We find the following record in Maria’s journal: 
 
 “The pleasant thing of all was Mr. Jacob’s interest in our going over¬ 
 land to India. Through him nearly the extra amount needed was raised. 
 Our Fatner does care for us, and we are saved the long way by the cape, 
 and shall reach Assam three months earlier.” 
 
 From St. Louis Maria returned to Chicago for the final 
 leave taking from dear friends there. On the evening of 
 
12 
 
 Nov. 23,after a precious, never-to-be-forgotten farewell service, 
 our travellers turned their faces toward New York. In a 
 letter written the evening before taking ship, to her brother- 
 in-law, she writes: 
 
 “To-morrow noon we are to be on board the Nevada, which will bear 
 us away from all we hold dear. But it is a comfort to know that it will 
 not take us away from our precious Saviour. Me has seemed doubly 
 near these last days of trial. O, it is sweet to live for Jesus! I am glad 
 I can serve Him, and not this wicked world. Pray earnestly for your 
 absent sister, that she may ever be faithful. Our meeting hereafter will 
 be made all the more precious by the long separation. God bless my 
 dear brother! Good bye.” 
 
 They sailed from New York, in the steamship u Nevada,” 
 Capt. Green, Dec. 15th, 1S69. We can imagine how much 
 was crowded into that last week, although she has kept no 
 record of it. She was very seasick for some days, so that the 
 first entry we find in her ship journal is dated Dec. 25th. She 
 thus introduces us to her new life: 
 
 “We left New York at two o’clock, Dec. 15 th, Mr. and Mrs. Cross, 
 with dear papa ai d myself, compose our missionary circle. There are 
 fifteen passengers with ourselves, most of them very delightful people. 
 There are only five ladies. Fortunately, we are all very good friends. 
 * * * Last eve, saw the light oft' Cape Clear, and to-day have seen 
 
 the dim outline of the Irish coast.” 
 
 She relates the events of the journey with a clear minute¬ 
 ness that makes the entire trip stand out with peculiar vivid¬ 
 ness. The party, after making a short stop in Liverpool, 
 went to London, Dec. 27th, where they made a stay of several 
 weeks, to make purchases for outfit, etc. Dr. Bronson had 
 dear friends residing here, some of them old India acquaint¬ 
 ances, and Maria found association with them very delightful. 
 The party had some opportunities for sight-seeing in this 
 great city, of which Maria gives graphic discription. 
 
i3 
 
 Jan. ist, 1S70. She writes: 
 
 “ It seems almost sad to spend this first day of the New-Year in a 
 strange land, so far away from those we love, but so it is. Our hearts 
 are full of gratitude when we remember how we have been carried safely 
 across the mighty deep. Yes, many things fill me with thankfulness, 
 one especially, that one so sinful, so unworthy, should be permitted to 
 carry the glad tidings of salvation to a benighted people. May this New- 
 Year be the most devoted of my whole life to my Master’s work! O, 
 that many sheaves may be gathered—that a glorious harvest may be 
 reaped for the kingdom of heaven. It is a privilege to be with dear papa. 
 The old year took our precious mamma from us, but ‘our loss is her 
 eternal gain.’ ” 
 
 The missionary company left London Jan. loth for Calais, 
 experincing the usual discomforts in crossing the English 
 Channel. The next day they went on to Paris. Plere they 
 found some old American friends, and enjoyed their week’s 
 stay in the brilliant French capital exceedingly. Jan. 14th, 
 they were once more on their way, crossing France by rail to 
 Marseilles. /Jan. 22nd, was Maria’s birthday, and we find this 
 entry in her journal. 
 
 “My birthday ! Just one year ago, our precious mamma was with us- 
 Little did I thinkthen that dear papa and I would now be on our way to our 
 Indian home without her. O, how I loved her, and how sadly I miss 
 her, but God knows best. She has borne her cross and now is wearing 
 a fadeless crown. May God help me to be His faithful follower that we 
 may at last meet in heaven. I believe we shall know each other there! 
 O, the influence such parents leave behind them! 
 
 ‘ This has certainly been a most eventful birthday. 
 
 “ We had rather a hard night, as we found nothing like the delightful 
 accommodations of our American sleeping cars. Found it difficult to 
 keep warm, notwithstanding our many wraps, and the hot tins at our 
 feet, for it was a very frosty night, I was glad wdien morning dawned 
 upon us, and we could enjoy the country. The numerous towns we 
 passed looked very strange—such odd-looking houses and people! 
 Apple-orchards were abundant, and most of the trees, as we neared Mar¬ 
 seilles, were covered with foliage, reminding us we were fleeing from 
 stern winter. I was glad to arrive at Marseilles, which was near noon. 
 We took our baggage directly to our S. S. “ Poonah,” Capt. Hazelwood. 
 We were delighted with our vessel. It is very large, and our staterooms 
 are pleasant for a steamer. ****** 
 
H 
 
 “ It was pleasant to be on board ship, and have no motion to tire one’s 
 head. Yes, I felt happv and thankful all the evening, happy, that my 
 Heavenly Father was permitting me to go on a mission of love to the 
 perishing heathen, and thankful, that we had thus far been brought safely 
 on our way.” 
 
 * 
 
 We now see our travellers embarked on the Mediterraniaa 
 Sea, their faces turned toward the Orient, where lay the land 
 of their desire. For two or three days they experienced very 
 rough weather. Then, a smoother sea brought relief. Under 
 date of Jan. 25th, Maria thus describes a pleasant episode of 
 the journey: 
 
 “Very early this morning, we passed Stromboli. The Captain told us 
 he saw smoke and fire issuing from it. I regretted missing the sight. 
 Soon after breakfast, I was out on deck, enjoying the island of Sicily on 
 one side, and Italy on the other. It was a glorious sight. We were near 
 enough to see the houses, and orange trees, covered with luxuriant foli¬ 
 age. I enjoyed it all so much. We saw the base of Mt. JEtna, a mist 
 nearly obscured the distant peaks. What was most beautiful of all, as 
 we were passing through the Straits, a most perfect rainbow nearly 
 arched the waters, lasting for some moments. O, this bow of promise! 
 I believe it is always a comfort to God’s believing ones. I felt it was a 
 renewed assurance that He would be with us, and bring us safely to our 
 journey’s end.” 
 
 Jan. 28th, she writes: 
 
 “About eight this morning, we arrived in Alexandria—not a very 
 attractive looking place, so low and sandy. We had some difficulty with 
 the Egyptians. Quite a quarrel ensued which boat should be taken by 
 our party, till they all seized upon our baggage, and had to be brought to 
 order by the officers of our ship. I now realize more than ever that we 
 are fast leaving an enlightened country, and going farther and farther 
 into lands whose people are sitting in darkness. Nothing, like such 
 scenes as we witness here, can lead us to lift up hearts of gratitude that 
 we have had the blessed Bible to be ‘a lamp unto our feet, and a guide 
 unto our path.’ ” 
 
 The entire record of their sight seeing in Alexandria, is ex¬ 
 ceedingly fascinating in its vividness of description. They 
 visited “Pompey’s Pillar,” and many other Egyptian wonders. 
 
But the true missionary spirit so filled her soul, that even the 
 world renowned ruins that lay all around them, could not 
 make her forget that God’s noblest creation—human souls— 
 were perishing in eternal ruin. She writes: 
 
 “ As we rode through the native portion of the city, and saw the utter 
 degradation of the people, especially the women , my heart ached for them, 
 and I longed that the blessed gospel might find a hold in this dark land. 
 
 * * * * * * i am q U ite bewildered when I think of all my eyes 
 
 have seen to-day. I know I am thankful that my lot has not been cast 
 here, though were it my work to labor among these people, I should 
 earnestly strive to raise them from their low condition. But O, how un¬ 
 able should we be to do this work without the aid of our Heavenly 
 Father! ” 
 
 Jan. 31st, they left Alexandria, going by rail to Cairo. 
 Maria seems to have enjoyed this glimpse of the country very 
 much. She was enthusiastic at sight of the Nile, the famous 
 river of Egypt. At Cairo they remained five days, which were 
 all too short to see the wonders in that vicinity. They visited 
 the Heliopolis, or Temple of the Sun, the beautiful and mys¬ 
 terious Pyramids, and other renowned places. Felf! 5th they 
 went by rail to a point a few miles distant from Suez, where 
 the S. S. Deccan was awaiting their arrival. Maria speaks of 
 seeing the partially completed Suez canal in the distance, also 
 the plain where the Israelites are supposed to have crossed the 
 Red Sea. Feb. 6th they were fairly under way on the waters 
 of the Red Sea, and the day following she commenced the 
 study of the Assamese language. The weather grew oppres¬ 
 sively warm very rapidly as they advanced into the tropics. 
 At Aden she records a delightful moonlight trip into the city, 
 and notices that the people are much more intelligent and 
 interesting than in Egypt. Feb. nth, they entered the Indian 
 Ocean, and reached Ceylon on the 20th, where they went on 
 
i6 
 
 shore for change and rest. They spent two delightful days 
 on the island meeting some pleasant Christian people, and en¬ 
 joying the charming scenery. They reached Madras Feb. 
 25th, but the waves were running so high they did not go on 
 shore. Maria began to realize that she was really in the 
 midst of Paganism, and her heart’s desire was to reach her 
 journey’s end and be really at her chosen work. As soon as 
 the sea was sufficiently calm, to make the transit safely, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Cross who had been their companions thus far on 
 the long journey, left them for the Rangoon steamer, which 
 would take them to their field of labor in Burmah. It was 
 hard to part with these dear friends, but they were cheered 
 with the thought that soon the weary voyage would be 
 done, and the dear old home in Assam valley be reached. 
 March 2nd, they reached the Sandheads, and took in the 
 pilot whose duty it was to guide the ship through the 
 treacherous Hoogly river to Calcutta. This is a dangerous 
 and difficult piece of navigation, but a kind providence watched 
 over our travellers, and brought them in safety to their desti¬ 
 nation. We will let Maria tell the story of her feelings on 
 their arrival: 
 
 “ About four p. m. we neared Calcutta. The pier was lined with those 
 hoping to meet their friends. Every face was beaming with smiles. I 
 thought if I could see the dear familiar faces from ‘over the other side’ 
 waiting to welcome me, I should have a truly happy heart. Yet I can 
 say, I was happy, for though the loved ones were far away, there was 
 pleasure in the thought I had left them for my precious Saviour! ” 
 
 They were not without warm greetings from friends, how¬ 
 ever. They were at once taken to the charming home of an 
 old and dear acquaintance, where they enjoyed the most gener¬ 
 ous hospitality during their stav in the city. 
 
 March 14th, Dr. Bronson and Maria started on the last stage 
 
i7 
 
 of their long journey. They went by rail to Goalundo on the 
 Brahmaputra, the mighty river which from its unknown 
 source far beyond the Himalayas, bursts through the mount¬ 
 ains, and rolls its resistless flood through the Assam valle}^ to 
 the sea. At Golando they took the steamer “ Punjaub,” 
 Capt. Elder. Thirty years before, the missionaries for Assam 
 made the journey in little native boats, rowing against the 
 strong current, but the finger of progress has touched India 
 after her sleep of centuries, and English enterprise has intro¬ 
 duced many of the comforts and conveniences of modern 
 civilization. 
 
 Our travellers had a very pleasant trip up the river. In 
 her journal she mentions the following interesting incident: 
 
 “ We anchored near a native villnge called Juggernaut Gunge. The 
 jolly boat took us ashore. We followed a path that led through clumps 
 of bamboos, mangoes and jack trees. Presently one of the villagers met 
 us and invited us to a musical entertainment in honor of one of these 
 gods, we soon had a large crowd about us, looking intently at the white 
 lady. We found a strange looking image, to whom these deluded people 
 were paying homage. The rude band commenced their discordant 
 sounds, when two gaily dressed women began to dance. I was shocktd 
 at their lack of modesty. Two bright little boys with wonderful voices, 
 sang at intervals. The place was lighted with torches. O how like a 
 savage country it seemed as those horrid sounds greeted our ears, and 
 we looked upon those crowds of half naked people. They treated us 
 with great respect, and took much pains to provide us with seats.” 
 
 She thus chronicles her entrance into Assam proper: u We 
 are leaving the dreary plains, and coming right on to the 
 grand hills. The scenery here is beautiful. We anchored at 
 a most romantic place, high hills on one side and a plain on 
 the other.” Near Gowalpara, Dr. Bronson had the pleasure 
 of meeting his life-long friend and missionary associate, Dr. 
 Stoddard, in whose family the little Frances Jane was left, 
 when the parents brought the other children to America, a 
 
i8 
 
 score of years before. Maria speaks of the joy of this reunion 
 of the veteran laborers. Dr. Stoddard went on with them 
 until they met the down steamer. At Gowhati, where they 
 spent twenty-four hours, the native Christians were overjoyed 
 at seeing their beloved teacher once more, and welcomed his 
 daughter with tears mingled with smiles of joy, and seemed to 
 transfer to her the affection they had felt for the mother, who 
 could never return to them. At Koliabor they left the Pun- 
 jaub and the Brahmaputra, and proceeded to Nowgong, which 
 is situated thirty-two miles distant on the banks of the Kullung. 
 The rest of the journey must be made on the backs of elephants. 
 This was a new experience to Maria. She describes it in her 
 journal as follows: 
 
 “ At half-past three we started for Nowgong. I was surprised to find 
 such a good road through the jungle. Were not a bridge wanted here 
 and there we might take the journey in a carriage. I really enjoyed the 
 ride on the back of our monster elephant. Then we had a nice fresh 
 breeze and the motion was not at all hard. All that was needed was a little 
 change to break the monotony. Most of the. way was through jungle. 
 We passed through the pleasantest part of our ride after dark, so I could 
 not enjoy the scenery. At the half-way bridge we stopped a few moments, 
 for rest and refreshments. Here we met a well-educated native, a Deist. 
 Papa had a plain talk with him, and as he understood English, I could 
 say a few words to him of the Saviour. Thus I have tried to begin my 
 work for Jesus. May the seed spring up, and be the means of bringing 
 this poor deluded one to the foot of the cross! The native Christians 
 came -to meet us, so our company formed quite a procession. 
 
 “It was nearly ten before we arrived at Nowgong. We received the 
 warmest of welcomes from dear Mrs. Scott.” 
 
 Thus the long journey began Dec. 15th, was ended March 
 28th, and Maria found herself in the old home from which she 
 had gone out, a little child. There were the trees which her 
 father had planted upon the birth of each daughter. Every¬ 
 where were memorials of the mother whose faithful work had 
 for so many years been done in this spot. The native Christians 
 
l 9 
 
 i 
 
 met them with emotions of joy and sorrow. Sorrow for the 
 one that was not, and joy, that once more they were to have 
 the instruction of their revered “ Bronson salib,” and that 
 u Maria Baba” had come to take her mother’s place. Many 
 of the older ones remembered her. Among them, her old 
 “ Ayah,” or nurse, who had cared for her in infancy, though 
 infirm and feeble, came tottering in to see her child. She 
 writes, under date of March 29th, 1870: 
 
 “ My first Sabbath in my new field of labor. It has been a happy one 
 with me, though a great contrast to the many pleasant ones which have 
 been spent in dear America. At eight this morning, with the English 
 residents, seventeen in all, we met in the chapel for worship. Papa 
 preached a beautiful sermon, which I feel must do good. He alluded 
 very touchingly at the close to his return, and the bereavments which 
 we had sustained. At eleven a. m. he preached again in Assamese. 
 Nearly one hundred present. I was glad to see such good attention. 
 This p. m. the S. S. classes met at the Bungalow. I am to have a few 
 who understand English. This eve we had a prayer-meeting with the 
 native Christians. My thoughts have been much with the dear ones at 
 home. I feel sure they have remembered us at the mercy-seat.” 
 
 The above extract from her journal will give an idea of the 
 Sabbath routine in the mission stations. In a letter dated 
 May 20th, 1S70, written to her sister in Chicago, she says: 
 
 “ I began the second book in Assamese yesterday. I enjoy the study 
 of the language. I can say a few sentences, and begin to understand a 
 little.that is said. O, how I long to talk! I can then accomplish so 
 much more. The people seem delighted when they hear me using a new 
 word.” 
 
 It will be seen from this that Miss Bronson made rapid pro¬ 
 gress in acquiring the language. It has been remarked that 
 the children of missionaries, who have spoken several tongues 
 when small, show a wonderful facility in the mastery of 
 languages, when older. As in this, and many other cases, they 
 may have quite forgotten all the tongues spoken in childhood 
 
20 
 
 except the English, but their talent as linguists makes itself 
 evident in maturer life. 
 
 A few months later she writes to a friend: “I am happy 
 and contented for I find much to do. The days are too short 
 even in India to accomplish all the duties planned. It is nearly 
 a year since we arrived here, and it seems the shortest year of 
 my life.” This sentence gives us the key note of her earnest 
 enthusiastic missionary life. She literally gave herself , body 
 and soul to her work, and while greatly interested in the 
 general and zenana work her especial charge was the Now- 
 gong girl’s school. It was established by her mother, in 1844, 
 and thus came to her as a legacy from the departed. She 
 loved it as the apple of her eye, and its success must be attrib¬ 
 uted to her untiring, devoted labor. During the year 1871, 
 Mrs. Scott left Nowgong to assist in the the work at Gow- 
 hati. Maria missed her and the three little ones sadly. It 
 seemed as if a large share of the light and sunshine had gone 
 out of the home. A few months later Mrs. F. A. Danforth 
 formerly‘connected with the mission, arrived from America 
 and soon after was united to Dr. Bronson in marriage. 
 
 In 1873, Miss Bronson’s support was assumed by the 
 “ Woman’s Baptist Missionary Society of the West,” and 
 henceforth she was one of its missionaries. But she was much 
 worn with her three years of incessant labor, and now, that 
 Mrs. Bronson was there to care for the girl’s school, and the 
 other departments which Maria had. superintended, she took a 
 little respite and visited Mrs. Scott at Gowhati. On her returm 
 she wrote her sister Dec. 14, 1873: 
 
 “I am at dear old Nowgong once more, after an absence of a little 
 more than four months. The last two months I was able to help Mrs. 
 Scott some in her girl’s school and zenana work, but my strength did 
 
21 
 
 not allow me to do all that my heart prompted. I am deeply interested 
 in the work that is being done at Gowhatti, and trust it is but the begin¬ 
 ning of brighter days for that hardened place. 
 
 “I spent twelve pleasant days in the mission boat. The first Sabbath 
 we were in a large Hindoo village, where the ‘ Gongbura’ received me 
 very kindly. I had with me th ee of our native Christians, one of whom 
 is now ready to teach and to preach. We went to the head man’s house, 
 where we found the people from far and near, assembled for a feast. We 
 spent some time talking and singing with them. I think I never felt 
 happier in my life, than while trying to tell these poor ignorant ones the 
 story of the cross. They listened with deep attention, and I prayed that 
 some poor soul might feel the truth, and seek to know more of our blessed 
 religion. In the evening the women gathered around my boat. I tried 
 to gain their confidence, at first, by asking them about their children and 
 their homes. When they saw I wished to be their friend, they answered 
 my questions readily, and began to ply me Avitb innumerable inquiries, 
 which opened the way for me to speak of the things that lay nearest my 
 heart. Poor creatures! So ignorant and so full of superstition! They 
 say: ‘ Why should -women learn to read? Why should they forsake the 
 customs and religion of their fathers? Ram would save them from 
 danger.’ 
 
 “The alligators were numerous around the sand-bank where we were 
 stopping. I asked if they ever carried off their people? ‘Oyes!’ they 
 replied ; but we throw into the river an offering to the river deities, and 
 Ave have no more fear. I found one of these offerings, and had my men 
 draw it to shore. It Avas made of the plaintain tree and covered with 
 flowers. Inside were two white pigeons, with feathers dyed red, living 
 on the rice which nearly filled the tiny boat. I brought the little creatures 
 home. I stopped at a place called Jah Ghaut the next Saturday. There 
 were thriving villages on both sides of the river. I sent Avord to the 
 people that I would visit them the next day. Old men came around my 
 boat to ask after their old Sahib, (papa.) They gladly welcomed his 
 daughter and seemed pleased that I was willing to go to their houses. 
 But what was my disappointment to wake early Sabbath morning and 
 find it raining hard. We had not expected rain at this season of the year, 
 so the best cover was not Avater-proof and my bed and luggage were be 
 coming Avet, and not daring to risk my health, I made my way reluctant¬ 
 ly homeward. The dear ones were at chapel. The first sound that 
 greeted my ears, was the sweet hymn of praise sung by our native con¬ 
 gregation. I rejoice to be once more with this band of disciples in our 
 station. Home never looked pleasanter to-me.” 
 
 She was much encouraged soon after her return by the 
 visit of the Government Inspector of Schools, who seemed 
 
22 
 
 greatly pleased with the way in which she conducted her 
 Girl’s school. He wrote a very flattering commendation in 
 the “ visitor’s book,” and what was better promised to secure 
 a “grant-in-aid,” as* soon as practicable. It is pleasant to 
 record that he was as good as his word, and the help thus re¬ 
 ceived enabled her to carry out more fully her plans for the 
 school. He also sent her a present of forty rupees, which 
 assistance was most timely. 
 
 She thus pleads the cause of this cherished object of her 
 affections in a letter written to her friends in Chicago: 
 
 “ Can you not help us in some little way to make our new school-house 
 attractive? We would like to have some pictures to help us teach the 
 little ones. What I want most of all is a whole series of large colored 
 Bible pictures, and also pictures illustrating Pilgrims Progress , and pic¬ 
 tures of birds, beasts, and any others that we could use in object teaching. 
 We should have all these hung on the walls. How nice it would be if 
 friends could give us these things, with large-sized slates, and all sorts of 
 stationai'y. I want the pictures very much. I will also beg for the 
 sewing and fancy-work department, which interests our women and 
 girls. You know what is found useful in a work like ours. Dont call 
 me troublesome, will you? I am not begging for myself, but for the 
 cause I lover 
 
 Thus passed four happy years, full of labor for Christ and 
 perishing souls. The work of those years cannot be better 
 summed up than in the words of her sister, in the sketch writ¬ 
 ten for the C| Helping Hand ” soon after her death: 
 
 “ Her natural energy, her hopefulness, and her strong will, all served 
 her in planning and carrying forward her work. She saw before her, not 
 the lost, the wretchedly undone, but God’s chosen ones, who were to 
 become His open followers. She never saw giants in the way,but rather 
 the ‘angel of His presence’ who has said, ‘ Lo, I am with you always.’ 
 Four years she went about from house to house, or taught in her school, 
 and by the purity and beauty of her life, as well as by her direct teach¬ 
 ings, won souls to Jesus, and raised many dull and listless ones to higher 
 aims. She had the affectionate regard and the highest esteem of her 
 pupils, and of the Zenana women. God seemed to give her the heart of 
 every one with whom she came in contact.” 
 
23 
 
 But the shadow of coming change settled slowly upon the 
 Nowgong home. Soon after her arrival, Mrs. Bronson’s 
 health began to show signs of failing, very gradually, but in¬ 
 sidiously, did disease fasten itself upon her, until consumption 
 ended the life story. But, with the usual deceitful character 
 of the malady, the invalid herself was the last to see the hope¬ 
 lessness of her case. It was at last decided that she should go 
 to Calcutta for medical advice and treatment. She begged 
 earnestly that her husband should not leave his work to go 
 with her, saying: “ I came to India to help, not to hinder.” 
 Maria was about to go to Calcutta to make some necessary 
 purchases, and attend to some pressing business. Mrs. Bron¬ 
 son insisted that she should go by rail from Goalundo as first 
 proposed, to save her valuable time, while she herself would 
 take the longer route by river all the way, hoping that the 
 fresh breezes and quiet travel would restore the wasted 
 energies. The family were reluctant to have her go any part' 
 of the way alone, but her distress at any change in their plans 
 was so evident, that they at last acceded to her wishes; Dr. 
 Bronson staying alone in the home at Nowgong, with the 
 neighbors as missionary associates, and Maria going by rail 
 from Goalundo to Calcutta. 
 
 She reached the city quite a little in advance of Mrs. Bron¬ 
 son, who, on her arrival, went directly to Miss Seelye’s sani¬ 
 tarium. Maria was shocked at the change in her appearance, 
 although Mrs. Bronson herself could not realize she was really 
 worse. But she failed so rapidly that the physicians ordered 
 her off at once for a sea voyage to Singapore, summoning 
 Maria to accompany her. She had less than twenty-four 
 hours to arrange for this unexpected change in her plans, but 
 
24 
 
 with her usual energy and efficiency she was ready at the ap¬ 
 pointed hour. 
 
 During the first few days at sea, the invalid rallied con¬ 
 siderably and became quite confident that she would return 
 sufficiently restored to health, to take up her work once more. 
 Maria’s letters give the incidents of the voyage, the calls at 
 Rangoon and Maulmain on their way out, where they had 
 delightful meetings with missionary friends. The improve¬ 
 ment in Mrs. Bronson’s condition Avas transient, and her 
 strength failed day by day. As they neared Rangoon on the 
 return voyage it became evident that Mrs. Bronson could not 
 live to reach Calcutta. With great difficulty she was con¬ 
 veyed on shore to the home of Dr. and Mrs. Stevens. Maria 
 speaks with the deepest gratitude of the tender sympathy and 
 care and help of the missionaries here. All that lay in the 
 power of human love and kindness was done. Death came at 
 last to the weary sufferer, and she passed away in perfect 
 peace on Tuesday, Feb. 3rd, 1874. 
 
 The last sad offices for the dear departed having been per¬ 
 formed, Maria prepared to take up the lonely homeward 
 way. But she was mentally and physically exhausted, and 
 this exhaustion prepared the way for the sad event which soon 
 followed. 
 
 Dr. Bronson came down to Calcutta expecting to meet his 
 wife and daughter on their return. He was confronted with 
 the telegram telling of his wife’s death and burial at Rangoon. 
 The shock to him was terrible, as may be imagined. He 
 looked so feeble that Maria feared they must start for America 
 at once. But under the sunshine of her presence, and tender 
 ministrations, he rallied again. Although so worn by the ex- 
 
25 
 
 periences through which she had been passing she gave her¬ 
 self little time for rest. She was impatient to return to her 
 beloved school, and her mind was filled with plans for its im¬ 
 proved management. When they were ready to return Dr. 
 Bronson insisted that they go all the way by the river to give 
 Maria some opportunity for the rest and recuperation she so 
 evidently needed. She seemed to enjoy the trip very much, 
 and to gain vigor daily. 
 
 We have before us the last letter (so far as known) written 
 by her pen. It is full of sad interest on that account and also 
 because it shews the eager anticipations never to be realized. 
 We give a portion, dated March 8th, 1874: 
 
 “ The last days in Calcutta were such busy ones I could not write let¬ 
 ters. We came on board the “ Raj Mahal ” just one week ago. Instead 
 of taking the rail to Goal undo we have came all the way from Calcutta 
 by steamer. We shall have gone through some thirty-four rivers before 
 we get into the great Brahmaputra. It is only yesterday that we left the 
 ‘ Sunderbunds ’ beautitul forests or tree jungles where there are no 
 human beings; nothing but wild beasts. We shall probably leave the 
 steamer at Koliabor about the 20th, and there have two days journey, 
 through the country to our old home.” 
 
 The old home,” alas! was never to receive the light of 
 her presence. The busy earnest life closed suddenly, and 
 Maria Bronson was not for God took her. The story of her 
 brief illness and unexpected death can best be told in the words 
 of her stricken father: 
 
 “ The rest and quiet seemed to do Maria much good. On the morning 
 of the 18th of March she complained of slight nausea. At breakfast time 
 she had fallen asleep, and I did not waken her. About noon she grew 
 worse. I called a native doctor, who was very attentive, but medicine 
 was of no avail. Soon terrible cramps set in; her eyes were sunken, her 
 voice unnatural ; and I knew by these unmistakable symptoms that our 
 dear Maria had that fearful disease, cholera, in its worst form. The lady- 
 passengers on board the “Raj Mahal” did all in their power to relieve 
 her, but the disease went relentlessly on. ‘Shall I recover? ’ was her 
 
26 
 
 earnest inquiry of the native physician. He made no reply. Again she 
 asked, ‘Shall I recover?’ I then said, ‘My daughter you are very ill. 
 We hope you may recover ; but should it be God’s will that you do not, 
 has death any terror?’ She whispered, ‘No.’—‘Is the Saviour with 
 you?’—‘Yes.’—‘ Have you any messages for your sisters, your foster- 
 mother, or your school-girls? ’ She gave me an earnest, loving look, 
 and said, ‘ I cannot talk.’ 
 
 “We reached Gawalpara, landing about sundown. I sent immediately 
 for Bro. Keith and the European surgeon. They' had to travel eight 
 miles, and did not reach us until nearly midnight, too late. In about 
 half an hour after their arrival, she sweetly slept in Jesus. As I stood 
 by the lifeless form of my dear child, in that lonely cabin, Jesus’ sweet 
 words came with power to my mind, ‘ What I do, thou knowest not 
 now, but thou shalt know hereafter.’ I felt to give up my dear child, 
 my only companion and comfort in my desolate home in this dark land, 
 and I wish to tell you, to the praise and honor of His name, that under 
 this double bereavment I have been sustained and comforted.” 
 
 Owing to the extreme heat, and the nature of the disease, it 
 was imperative that the burial take place as soon as possible. 
 Besides, the steamer could not long delay; so in the night 
 hours a coffin was hastily constructed, and in the early morn¬ 
 ing the last remains of Maria Bronson were taken on shore, 
 the officers and passengers following in the procession to the 
 foot of the hill upon which Gowalpara is situated. Then they 
 turned back, leaving the stricken father, accompanied only by 
 the station physician, to go on his desolate way with his dead. 
 Six wild Garo hill men served as bearers. A grave had been 
 dug in the beautiful cemetery overlooking the Brahmaputra. 
 Bro. Keith was not there, so the bereaved, agonized father 
 offered the last prayer over the coffin of his idolized child, 
 committing “ ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” with no near and 
 dear earthly friend at hand to comfort and console him. Only 
 Jesus, in invisible presence, stood by the solitary mourner that 
 morning on Gowalpara hill, breathing His own loving con¬ 
 solation into the striken heart. When the news of her death 
 
27 
 
 was received it fell as a terrible blow upon Assam. Especially 
 at Nowgong they were looking forward to her return in a 
 very few days, and their great joy was by this providence 
 turned into bitter mourning. Mrs. Neighbor writes: 
 
 “ The news came like a thunder-clap to us yesterday morning. The 
 light seemed to go out of everything, for we loved Miss Bronson as a 
 dear sister. Every one here feels her death very sorely. When my 
 husband spoke of it after service yesterday, there were few dry eyes, the 
 women sobbing aloud. When I met her school-girls in my Sabbath 
 school class in the afternoon, they were all in tears, and during the 
 conversation cried as if their hearts would break. This morning they 
 said they never wanted to go to school again, since the teacher had gone 
 from them. 
 
 “ Our dear sister had a kind, winning way with children, and she had 
 won all hearts. She was devoted to her school, esteeming it a pleasure 
 to have her girls with her, while they, on their part, were longing for her 
 return.” 
 
 Can we picture to our minds the desolation of the station, 
 the loneliness of the home whence two had gone out, expect¬ 
 ing to return, but whose footsteps would never more cross the 
 threshold; the school without a teacher; the Bible-readers 
 left without their leader? 
 
 At home the news brought a terrible shock, not only to the 
 foster-mother, the sisters and other relatives, but to all con¬ 
 nected with the “Society of the West.” It was the first break 
 made in the ranks of the workers on the field by death, and 
 many tears fell at the thought of that new made grave in far 
 off Assam. Even in dying she served the cause she so loved; 
 for other earnest young souls were led by it to consecrate 
 themselves to the work of missions. 
 
 A beautiful poem, suggested by the death of the two, so 
 near together in point of time, but whose mortal remains rest 
 in such widely different places, was written for the Helping 
 Hand by Miss E. W. Brown, daughter of our venerable mis- 
 
28 
 
 sionary Rev. Nathan Brown, D.D. We give the poem 
 entire. 
 
 SCATTERED GRAVES. 
 
 The sacred river’s silvery mist 
 Is by the morning sunshine kissed; 
 
 But dark the rushing wave below, 
 
 As one is borne against its flow, 
 
 Who wist not yester-morn ’twould be 
 Her day-break of eternity. 
 
 Closed are those eyes of liquid light, 
 
 In starless, unawakening night. 
 
 Not e’en a father’s anguish now 
 Can call back life to lips or brow; 
 
 Nor the high work her spirit chose 
 Awake her from this long repose. 
 
 Her work is done. On distant shore, 
 
 Dear dying eyes seek hers no more; 
 
 From home, from kindred far, she kept 
 Love’s vigil, till her sufferer slept; 
 
 In its last clasp the cold hand pressed, 
 
 Then laid the sainted to her rest. 
 
 Her own, how near! Death’s shadowy wing 
 O’er watched and watcher hovering ; 
 
 While in that soft and hallowed light 
 Her soul grew ready for its flight, 
 
 Stayed but to cheer the mourner’s heart, 
 Then heard the summons, “ Child, depart.” 
 
 Now to its grave that dust so dear 
 Is borne by savage mountaineer; 
 
 With troubled voice the man of God 
 Commits her to her native sod, 
 
 Then, doubly stricken, bows his head, 
 Alone with sorrow and his dead. 
 
 Nay, not alone! God’s angels keep 
 H is watch o’er those who wake and sleep; 
 E’en death, through his providing care, 
 
 Will plant the seed whose fruitage fair 
 Of ransomed souls in years to come 
 Shall swell the reapers’ “ Harvest home.” 
 
2 9 
 
 
 Yet, land bereaved, beloved! for thee v 
 Thy children’s tears fall silently. 
 
 The sickle dropped, the grain unbound 
 Stands whitening all the fertile ground, 
 While scattered laborers, strong in faith, 
 Toil on, through suffering, unto death. 
 
 Oh, shall the anguish and the tears, 
 
 The martyr-lives of other years, 
 
 Whose agony of sold was given 
 To lift thy souls from hell to heaven, 
 
 Bring forth their future fruit in naught 
 But tender memory, reverent thought? 
 
 No! The dear ashes scattered wide 
 By Orient and by western tide, 
 
 Cry,'“Speed the torch from hand to hand, 
 Till hut and fane illumined stand; 
 
 Till warrior, priest and devotee 
 In one glad worship bend the knee.” 
 
 And let the sound of Sabbath bell 
 Over thy mountain barriers swell, 
 
 Till eastward meet and westward wave, 
 And in far isle and desert cave 
 That faith be held, that praise be sung, 
 Which know no bounds of clime or tongue. 
 
A monument has been erected over Maria’s grave, bearing 
 the following inscription: 
 
 MARIA BRONSON COTES, 
 
 Beloved daughter of 
 Rev. Miles Bronson, D.D., 
 
 Missionary of the 
 
 American Baptist Missionary Union. 
 
 She died of Cholera at Gowalpara 
 On her way from Calcutta to Nowgong, March 18th, 1S74. 
 
 Aged 33 years, 1 month, and 26 days. 
 
 This monument is erected by her bereaved Father and 
 affectionate Foster-Mother, who, with a large 
 circle of relatives and friends, deeply 
 
 mourn her loss. v 
 
 “ Precious in the sight of the Lord 
 is the death of His saints.” 
 
 Ps. 116: 15. 
 
 The grave, with its crowning monument, can be seen from 
 all the steamers ascending or descending the Brahmaputra. 
 Thank God! Maria Bronson sleeps in a Christian cemetery, 
 where her tomb will be guarded and kept in safety. She 
 might have died in the wild and lonely “ Sunderbunds,” 
 through which they had just passed, where her grave would 
 be at the mercy of wild beasts. . But God cares for Ilis own, 
 and though she sleeps far away from home, and kindred, yet 
 her dust will be held as a precious legacy by the native Christ¬ 
 ians of Assam. 
 
 Sleep, sweet sister! After life’s fitful fever, sleep well! A 
 sainted mother watched for thy coming, Now, in the fields of 
 Paradise, watch for our coming feet! Till then we say, “Hail! 
 and Farewell!” 
 
3i 
 
 “ My God, I would not coldly offer Thee 
 The withered hue of feelings’ flower, 
 
 The fragment of a passing hour,— 
 
 Gifts which have nothing cost to me. 
 
 But, looking down into my heart, 
 
 Whatever treasure it hath hidden deep- 
 Whatever talent it would strive to keep, 
 
 With these, to Thee, O God, I part. 
 
 I should not dare to bring affections blighted, 
 
 By the rude blasts of worldliness and pride, 
 
 Nor lay a worn-out heart the earth had slighted, 
 
 Upon the altar of the Crucified. 
 
 But in Life’s dewy hours, when hope is on the wing, 
 
 My love, myself, my all, to Thee I bring.” 
 
 1 
 
 (Taken from Miss Bronson’s Commonplace Book.) 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 SEP 1 § 7‘ 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED JN U S A. 
 

 
 ( 
 
 ) 
 
 
 1 
 
 c 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 ,/