PA#. 
 
 B\OG. 
 
 A 
 
 SERMON 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 
 
 MRS. HARRIET B. H. WILLIAMS, 
 
 MISSIONARY AT MOSUL; 
 
 PREACHED AT 
 
 AUBURNDALE, NEWTON, MASS., 
 
 t 
 
 FEBRUARY 28, 185 8. 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. E. W. CLARK. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 
 ALLEN AND FARNHAM, PRINTERS. 
 
 1 85 8 . 
 
A 
 
 SERMON 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 
 
 MRS. HARRIET B. H. WILLIAMS, 
 
 MISSIONARY AT MOSUL; 
 
 PREACHED AT 
 
 AUBURNDALE, NEWTON, MASS., 
 
 FEBRUARY 28, 1858. 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. E. W. CLARK. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 
 i 
 
 ALLEN AND FARNHAM, PRINTERS. 
 
 1 858 . 
 
Auburndale, March 8, 1858. 
 
 Rev. Edward W. Clark, 
 
 Dear Sir: — Having listened with deep interest to your sermon, oc¬ 
 casioned by the death, at Mosul, of Mrs. Harriet B. II. Williams, 
 and being desirous of preserving and distributing this memorial of our 
 loved and lamented sister, we hereby respectfully request a copy for 
 the press. 
 
 Very sincerely yours, 
 
 Chas. C. Burr, 
 
 Jas. Y. L. Hillard, 
 
 Jas. M. Gordon, 
 
 I. R. Worcester, 
 
 S. A. Danfortii, 
 
 Chas. A. Sweet. 
 
 Auburndale, March 17, 1858. 
 
 Gentlemen: — If the Discourse, of which you request a copy for 
 the press, may gratify the friends of the deceased, and advance the 
 cause of Christian Missions, it is at your disposal. 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 
 E. W. Clark. 
 
 Chas. C. Burr, Esq., and others. 
 
ROMANS 14: 8. 
 
 For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we 
 
 DIE UNTO THE LORD; WHETHER WE LIVE THEREFORE, OR DIE, WE ARE THE 
 
 Lord’s. 
 
 These are the words of a Christian Missionary, who 
 was called by his Divine Master to leave his own kin¬ 
 dred, to preach the gospel to the heathen • and most 
 truly do they express the missionary spirit. We rever¬ 
 ence such noble words, uttered by a man who so fully 
 exemplified them in his life, — who counted all things 
 but loss that he might win Christ, — who in living, lived 
 unto the Lord, — and who in dying, died unto the Lord, 
 — who had no thought or desire but that Christ might be 
 magnified in his body, "whether it be by life, or by 
 death,” — who, when his friends stood about him in 
 tears, and entreated him not to go up to Jerusalem, 
 where he might suffer harm, could say, with a martyr 
 spirit, " what mean ye to weep and to break my heart, 
 for I am ready to die at Jerusalem for the name of the 
 Lord Jesus” 
 
4 
 
 The spirit of the text is the very spirit of self-denial, 
 and self-forgetfulness in view of the honor of Christ. 
 With the following scope do I interpret this noble decla¬ 
 ration of Paul. “ For whether we live , we live unto the Lord!' 
 What matters it, then, where we live, since we are living 
 unto the Lord, — since we are following his will, and 
 not our own, — since we are entirely at his disposal ? 
 What matters it where we live; — whether amid the 
 friends, and loved associations of early years, and the 
 endearments of home, or among strangers in a foreign 
 land; — whether in England or India, in x\merica or 
 Assyria; — all these things, the mere accidents and 
 accessories of life, and not life itself, what are all these 
 in view of the fact that we are living unto the Lord ? 
 We have forsaken all to follow him. We are ready to 
 suffer all things to please him. We are his servants, to 
 go and come at his bidding. We are his friends, delight¬ 
 ing to do his will. We are ready to attend his summons, 
 and live where he may appoint. “ And whether we die , we 
 die untodhe Lord : ” and what matters it, then, where we 
 die ? Is he not everywhere ? Can we die so friend¬ 
 less, as not to feel his friendship ; so unattended as not 
 to have his presence ? If father and mother and 
 brothers and sisters stand not at our dying bed, is not 
 Christ the Lord there, and is not his presence more than 
 all else ? What matters it, then, where we die, and 
 where our bodies repose ? Let them sleep in a foreign 
 soil, where no tear of affection shall moisten the sod 
 that covers them; let them repose on some ocean 
 island, or in some ocean depth, — at Mosul, or at Mount 
 Auburn; what matters it, since the eye of Infinite Love 
 is watching them, and as in life they were the Lord’s, so 
 
I 
 
 equally in the grave are they his, and on the morning 
 of the resurrection our mortal shall put on immortal¬ 
 ity. Such is the spirit of our text; — a spirit of high 
 consecration, and lofty devotion to Christ, — making the 
 privilege, the honor, the glory of being the servants and 
 friends of Jesus, outweigh every other consideration. 
 Such is the self-denying principle of the religion of 
 Christ. It has not changed since Paul’s day. So was it 
 with the early disciples, and so is it ahvays in the demand 
 of the gospel, and in the highest spirit and develop¬ 
 ment of Christianity, however much the followers of the 
 Saviour have failed in practice to attain unto it. Every 
 one who would follow Christ is told that he must do it 
 at a sacrifice of worldly things. “ Whosoever he be of 
 you that forsaketh not all that he hath he cannot be my 
 disciple.” “He that loveth father or mother, son or 
 daughter more than me, is not worthy of me.” In 
 mental determination and inward self-denial, every 
 thing, must be given up for Christ’s sake. He who 
 holds back one thing from Christ, or refuses to make 
 one sacrifice, perils his whole discipleship and fellow¬ 
 ship, and eternal salvation. “ It is given ” unto us 
 “ in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but 
 also to suffer for his sake.” We are to be “partakers 
 of the afflictions of the gospel.” Suffering with Christ 
 is made a condition of reigning with him. “Rejoice, 
 inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; 
 that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad 
 also with exceeding joy.” We are in a warfare. 
 Salvation is the victory to-be won, — the boon to be 
 gained. Christ is the “ captain of our salvation,” and 
 we are to follow whithersoever he goetli. 
 
6 
 
 “ The Son of God goes forth to war, 
 
 A kingly crown to gain. 
 
 His blood-red banner streams afar; 
 
 Who follows in his train ? 
 
 Who best can drink his cup of woe, 
 
 Triumphant over pain ; 
 
 Who patient bear his cross below, 
 
 He follows in his train.” 
 
 And she, we confidently believe, followed in his train, 
 who died unto the Lord in Mosul, on the twenty-fifth of 
 last December. Her master came at midnight and 
 found her at her post, ready to magnify him in her 
 body, “whether it be by life, or by death.” Her Saviour 
 chose to be glorified by her death, and so he took her 
 away from her weeping friends, and her unaccomplished 
 plans, to himself, that where he is there she might be 
 also. 
 
 We are all mourners to-day; for nature demands a 
 - tribute of tears. It is fitting that we weep. That night 
 of joy and glory to her is a memory of sadness to us. 
 One whom we have known and loved, in the various 
 relations of life, has lain down to her last sleep in a 
 foreign soil. No more will she awake till the u trumpet 
 shall sound ” We, who called her neighbor and friend, 
 offer our sympathies to-day to those, who called her by 
 the dearer names of daughter, sister, wife. We, who 
 were her brethren and sisters in the church, — her 
 coworkers in the Sabbath school, — her companions 
 in study and in the social circle, mourn in sympathy 
 with those who weep over the tenderest of earthly ties 
 dissevered. We bend in sadness over her early grave, 
 and her unaccomplished work. But while we weep, we 
 
7 
 
 rejoice. The occasion of our tears is her exceeding 
 gain. Over her, death has achieved no victory. She is 
 the victorious one; for her to die was gain. From our 
 little circle she has gone to the multitude redeemed; 
 from our poor sympathies to the holy fellowship on 
 high ; from her father on earth to her Father in 
 heaven; from the struggling, church, to the church 
 triumphant. 
 
 “ She has gone to her God; she has gone to her home, 
 
 No more amid peril and error to roam; 
 
 Her eyes are no longer dim; 
 
 Her feet will no more falter; 
 
 No grief can follow her, 
 
 No pang her cheek can alter. 
 
 “ There are paleness and weeping and sighs below; 
 
 For our faith is faint, and our tears will flow; 
 
 But the harps of heaven are ringing, 
 
 Glad angels come to greet her; 
 
 And hymns of joy are singing, 
 
 While old friends press to meet her.” 
 
 A brief memorial of her life, death, and character is 
 appropriate to this occasion, and to this audience; the 
 most of whom knew her, and had in her the interest of 
 personal acquaintance. 
 
 Harriet B. Harding was born in Waltham, Mass., Sep¬ 
 tember 15, 1836. She was the youngest daughter of 
 Bev. Sewall and Mrs. Eliza W. Harding. In 1837, she 
 went with her parents to Medway, Mass., where her 
 father was settled in the ministry, after his pastorate 
 at Waltham was ended; and subsequently she removed 
 to Auburndale, where her parents took up their abode 
 
8 
 
 after the appointment of Mr. Harding as Secretary of 
 the Congregational Board of Publication in 1850. She 
 graduated at the Lasell Female Seminary in this place, 
 in 1855, with eight others; and afterwards was a 
 teacher, for a time, in Rev. George Gannett’s school in 
 West Cambridge. March 2, 1856, she united by profes¬ 
 sion with this church, and the following year, April 30, 
 1857, was married to Rev. W. F. Williams, missionary 
 of the American Board at Mosul, Assyria; for which 
 place she sailed from Boston July 7. Subsequent to her 
 marriage, seven months were spent in visiting friends in 
 this country, and in crossing the ocean to her destina¬ 
 tion ; one short month was passed on missionary 
 ground, — the consecration was completed, — the offer¬ 
 ing up of herself to her Master’s service was consum¬ 
 mated, and she was taken from the altar of sacrifice to 
 her reward in heaven. The wave of sorrow, that weeks 
 ago rolled over loving hearts at Mosul and Diarbekir, 
 has now reached our shore. Letters have but just come 
 across the wide waters freighted with the sad intelli¬ 
 gence. Her sorrowing husband writes to her father and 
 mother: “ How shall I tell you ? Talcott, now at even¬ 
 ing, prays, 4 Bless my dear father, my grandparents, my 
 aunts, uncles, and cousins.’ She whom he loved to call 
 mother has no longer need of his prayers. The light of 
 my home closed her eyes on earth, opened them in 
 worlds of joy, Christmas night, at eleven and a half 
 o’clock. 
 
 “ Asleep in Jesus! Blessed sleep! 
 
 From which none ever wakes to weep ; ” 
 
 “ My dear associates will tell you how happy and un- 
 
9 
 
 complaining she was in her sickness; how pleasant in 
 her death; how easily and quietly she breathed away 
 her soul, while all were gathered about her bedside. 
 Except to sleep here six nights, she had not yet entered 
 her own house; we had not once rode out together; 
 she had not learned any thing of the language, and all 
 the plans we had formed together for the future remain 
 unaccomplished. To human appearance, she came all 
 this long way to find a grave. But, perhaps, God may 
 propose to accomplish more by her death, at the 
 threshold of her labors, than her long life could have 
 done. God grant it may be so ! It is the Lord. Let 
 him do as seemeth him good. We bow to his love and 
 wisdom.” 
 
 Bev. D. W. Marsh writes: “ Harriet Harding Williams, 
 wife of Rev. W. F. Williams, of Mosul, breathed her last 
 on Christmas, Dec. 25, 1857. One month only in Mo¬ 
 sul. No pestilence! no raging heat! We cannot un- . 
 derstand it. She was cheerful, ready and willing to go. 
 In the sudden call, she knew no will but God’s. Her 
 patience and cheerfulness blinded us to the progress of 
 her disease. She had been unwell at Diarbekir, but 
 during the nine days’ journey down the Tigris she was 
 well. A week of her short month had not passed, when 
 she was attacked with what proved an incurable bilious 
 diarrhoea. In vain the care of her physician, Dr. Has¬ 
 kell ; in vain the tenderness of a thoughtful husband; 
 God willed, and she has gone to her heavenly home. 
 No more pain for her; no wearisome pilgrimage. Now 
 she enjoys the open vision and full fruition of heaven. 
 But her stricken husband, and the twice motherless 
 children, — is any sorrow like unto their sorrow! ” 
 
 2 
 
10 
 
 V 
 
 In another communication, Mr. Marsh writes: “ She 
 was an example of suffering patience and cheerfulness. 
 She bowed her will to the will of God. The wind 
 passed over her, and she is gone. Seldom does the 
 grave close over so much loveliness and worth. The 
 thoughts of God are not as our thoughts. They are 
 high as heaven, wide as immensity! What can we 
 know! We can only draw near the mercy-seat, and 
 with bleeding hearts look to the Lamb of God. He 
 died for us, and will give us grace to die for him. We 
 are in deep waters. “God moves in a mysterious 
 way.” It is all love. We lay hold of his hand in the 
 thick darkness. Though he slay us, yet will we trust 
 in him.” 
 
 Such is the information which has come to us from 
 abroad of her “falling asleep in Jesus.” Rest there, 
 youthful saint, in thy distant Mosul grave, 
 
 “ till from his throne 
 
 The morning break, and pierce the shade.” 
 
 A few weeks after the death of her friend, Rev. J. P. 
 Drummond, of West Newton, who was a missionary at 
 heart, and the state of whose health alone prevented 
 him from a personal consecration to the foreign field, in 
 his Redeemer’s service, and with whom Mrs. Williams 
 had often conferred on matters pertaining to Christ’s 
 kingdom, she was called to follow him. Already, per¬ 
 haps, their ransomed spirits have communed together 
 in the blissful circles of heaven. Her name is now 
 joined in everlasting remembrance with those mission¬ 
 ary heroines, Mrs. E. C. Schneider, Mrs. M. E. Van Len- 
 nep, Mrs. Sarah L. Smith, and the three Mrs. Judsons, 
 
11 
 
 who laid down their lives for Christ’s sake. More nearly 
 does her brief missionary experience resemble that of 
 Harriet Newell, the first costly sacrifice to the cause of 
 missions in 1812. Mrs. Newell was married at the age 
 of nineteen, sailed for Calcutta, and died at the Isle of 
 France ten months after her marriage, and four months 
 after her arrival on missionary ground. She fell, stricken 
 by death, in her twentieth year, at the very vestibule of 
 the sacred cause. She was the first martyr to American 
 missions; the first woman who went out; the first who 
 fell a sacrifice. Harriet Newell and Harriet Williams— 
 both young, enthusiastic, devoted, and early called from 
 the cross to the crown. Their work was short; their 
 toil soon ended. They fell cheering, by their words and 
 their example, many who shall rise up to fill their places. 
 They, it may be, have already met in the spirit land to 
 adore together the Redeemer, to whose cause on earth 
 they so cheerfully gave their lives. Who will dare call 
 the sacrifice too costly ? Who, summoned by Christ, 
 would not rejoice to come forward to tread a like path ? 
 
 Mrs. Williams possessed a character of a high order. 
 She had a sound mind, an affectionate disposition, de¬ 
 lighting to make others happy, a sunny temperament, 
 a disciplined will, and a judgment unusually mature for 
 one of her age. While we do not claim for her any un¬ 
 common brilliancies of mind, we must award to her 
 many excellencies. Every development of her intellect 
 and heart seemed to be normal and sound. No hotbed 
 growth weakened any part of her character; a steady 
 culture had given her reliable powers. Her religious 
 nature was calm, thoughtful, and sweetly moulded. She 
 moved and attracted many by her gentle religious sym- 
 
12 
 
 pathies. In all my intercourse with her as a friend and 
 pastor, she showed herself mild, gentle, amiable, and 
 teachable; ready to be guided by counsel; anxious to 
 know the path of duty, and prepared to do at once what 
 she felt to be her Lord’s will. But I have no words of 
 mere eulogy to speak. Such utterances would not ac¬ 
 cord with the retiring modesty of our dej)arted friend. 
 They would be an offering to her memory unasked of 
 heaven. Her consecration to the cause of missions, her 
 death at her post of labor in far distant Mosul, are her 
 highest encomium. Let others speak who had known 
 her longer and more intimately. One who had an ac¬ 
 quaintance with her of many years, and who had care¬ 
 fully studied her disposition, says of her: “A prominent 
 trait of her character w T as a conscientious fidelity in the 
 performance of duty, often at the expense of present 
 gratification. The winter of 1854-5 she spent in her 
 brother’s family at Longmeadow, Mass., when she 
 thought she experienced that great change, which ever 
 after inspired her with higher and nobler aims in life. 
 After her return home, her mind was almost entirely 
 occupied in the studies preparatory to her graduating 
 at the Lasell seminary, and though she never relin¬ 
 quished the hope that she had accepted the Saviour, 
 her mind was probably somewhat diverted by the pres¬ 
 sure of circumstances, and she did not make a public 
 profession of her faith until the spring of 1856. A 
 lack of physical endurance was often a drawback upon 
 her mental and executive power, and would sometimes 
 operate as a discouragement in her competing with 
 associates in study. For the purpose of advancing her 
 education, and gaining practical discipline, she engaged 
 
13 
 
 in teaching the year subsequent to her seminary course. 
 She was successful as a teacher; was beloved and re¬ 
 spected by her associates, and secured the cordial good¬ 
 will of her pupils. They, with many others, clung to 
 her, and wept sorely that they should see her face no 
 more, when she left for ever her native land. And 
 they are now among the sorrowful and bereaved of her 
 mourning friends. It is believed that she sincerely 
 sought the best good of her pupils, and by her faith¬ 
 fulness was the instrument of leading some of them to 
 the Saviour, as their letters to her testify. Except to 
 her most intimate friends, she said but little of her 
 interior life • but her great purpose was, to manifest this 
 life by the performance of duty in all its relations, and 
 to seek for strength from on high for the self-sacri¬ 
 ficing labors to be performed. The great aim of her 
 education had been, from her earliest days, to cultivate 
 the judgment rather than the imagination, so that, when 
 upon the active stage of life, she might execute rather 
 than theorize.” 
 
 In reference, in what has just been said, to the belief 
 that Mrs. Williams was the instrument of leading some 
 of her beloved pupils to the Saviour, we may quote 
 a few sentences in a letter to her, written March 8, 
 1857, by one of her former scholars. “ Surely you, who 
 have so kindly entreated me to come to the Saviour, 
 and interceded for me at the throne of mercy, should 
 have known long before this of that sweet hope which 
 has taken possession of my heart; — of that happiness 
 and peace, which, I trust, I have found in my Saviour. 
 Oh! my beloved teacher, my dear friend, I cannot ex¬ 
 press my feelings to you; they are too deep for words, 
 
14 
 
 *• 
 
 and too delightful almost to realize. May heaven bless 
 with its choicest gifts her who taught me how to find 
 my Saviour. I can only thank you, but God will reward 
 you in heaven.” Not one brief year ago were these 
 words written, and now she to whom they were ad¬ 
 dressed has gone to her reward in heaven, where “ they 
 that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars 
 for ever and ever.” The same writer last quoted in a 
 letter received since Mrs. Williams’s decease says, she 
 was 66 always pleasant, with a constant flow of joyful hap¬ 
 piness and peace beaming from her eye. She ever 
 seemed a being to love, and very easily was I drawn 
 towards her. I deemed her friendship worth possessing, 
 and strove to be worthy of her love. She won me from 
 the world to Jesus’ feet, and through her faithful en¬ 
 treaties, I was at length led to see and feel my sinfulness, 
 and to hope that my heart was changed; and now I 
 trust to meet my dear teacher in heaven.” 
 
 Rev. George Gannett, in whose school at West Cam¬ 
 bridge Mrs. Williams was a teacher, writing in behalf 
 of himself and wife, says, Mrs. Williams “ was not with 
 us a whole year in the capacity of an assistant teacher, 
 without our receiving a strong and decided impression 
 of the superior excellence and beauty of her character. 
 Had I time I should like to enter into a somewhat full 
 and detailed analysis of her character, as it appeared to 
 us; but I must now limit myself to a few brief state¬ 
 ments relating to her inner religious life, as it was ex¬ 
 hibited in our intercourse with her. Her piety was 
 unobtrusive, and yet clearly visible. Its fragrance 
 rested upon all with whom she had to do. While she 
 instinctively shrunk from all ostentatious acts of service 
 
4 
 
 15 
 
 and obtrusive displays of zeal, we were fully convinced 
 of the reality and constancy of her devotion to her 
 Saviour. She distinguished herself in a high degree, 
 by her private faithfulness to the children and young 
 ladies connected with our family and school. Repeat- 
 edly did she remain at home with the children that she 
 might have the opportunity to converse with them 
 upon moral and religious themes. Often, as we re¬ 
 turned home from the Wednesday or Sabbath evening 
 prayer-meeting, we overheard her earnest but suppressed 
 tones, as she was pleading with some young lady to 
 give her heart to Christ. In our solicitude for the spir¬ 
 itual welfare of those under our care, we were often 
 refreshed by her sympathies and cooperation. To say 
 that she won our confidence and esteem, would but in¬ 
 adequately express what we feel. She was one whom 
 we all sincerely loved, and now that she has suddenly 
 disappeared from us, like some bright vision of the past, 
 we cannot but think that God has permitted us to know 
 her for a season, in order that in taking her away, he 
 may draw our hearts more strongly upwards towards 
 that world of blessedness whither she has gone.” 
 
 Rev. Mr. Walker, her brother-in-law, missionary at 
 Diarbekir, writes as follows of her religious experi¬ 
 ence and preparation for death: u Her preparations had 
 been made years ago. The call to Mosul was a severe 
 test of her consecration, and led her to examine her 
 heart anew, and enter again into covenant with the 
 Saviour she loved. However worthy the one to whom 
 she gave her hand and heart, however tenderly she 
 loved her dear and only sister, she would never have 
 entertained the proposal of a missionary’s life, in Mosul, 
 
16 
 
 unless feeling that she had been bought with a price, 
 even Christ’s precious blood. The love of Christ had 
 constrained her, and made her willing to relinquish the 
 many joys and privileges of her highly favored lot, and 
 to go afar to labor for him. That lone grave in far-off 
 Mosul bears sweet testimony to her willingness to follow 
 Christ whithersoever he should call. And now, how¬ 
 ever dear she may have been to her parents, and to us, • 
 and to her husband, who loved her with a very tender 
 love, knowing the worth of the treasure God had given 
 him, I doubt not she was dearer still to Jesus, who loved 
 her and gave himself for her, and whose she had cove¬ 
 nanted to be for ever; she had shown the ‘ willing 
 mind,’ which is accepted with him. But he needed not 
 her labors. He desired her praises rather, and so grant¬ 
 ing her a happy exemption from all the anticipated 
 missionary toils and trials, he gave his beloved sleep, 
 and called her to himself. We would gladly have de¬ 
 tained her to dwell with us here. 0 how much of joy 
 had we anticipated from her occasional presence and 
 her weekly letters! But the Lord whom she and we 
 served, had better things in store for her, and we joy 
 in the blessed assurance that the ‘ Golden Harp’ and 
 the 6 song of Moses and the Lamb ’ are hers, and will be 
 for ever.” 
 
 The following extract from a letter written by Mrs. 
 Williams to a friend a few weeks after her union with 
 this church, will give us a truthful glimpse of her relig¬ 
 ious feelings and purpose, and will close our considera¬ 
 tion of her character and Christian experience : “ Unite 
 with me,” she says, “in rejoicing that on the last com¬ 
 munion Sabbath at home, I took upon me those holy 
 
 t 
 
 
17 
 
 vows consecrating my all to my Saviour, and was per- 
 mitted* for the first time, to partake of the symbols of 
 his death in remembrance of him. It was a holy, happy 
 day for me; the most solemn of my earthly life. I 
 need not describe to you my feelings; for the remem¬ 
 brance of a like day, equally solemn to you, is yet fresh 
 in your mind. How fully can we sympathize with each 
 other in what our Saviour hath done for us, in his great 
 love and mercy. Like you I have been much happier 
 since my decision, and as I dwell more and more on the 
 infinite attributes of our God and Saviour, and com¬ 
 mune with him, a peaceful happiness fills my soul. Is 
 it not delightful to commune with God in secret, and 
 pour out our whole heart in prayer to him ? ” 
 
 With such a sweet devotion she wrote of her conse¬ 
 cration to Christ. Let the companions of her studies 
 and fife, in this place, cherish these instructive words, 
 which, though dead, she yet speaks to them. Now we 
 trust she has learned how delightful it is to exchange 
 a throne of grace for a throne of glory, and with open 
 face to behold the beauty of her King. 
 
 There are reflections which connect themselves with 
 this providence of God in removing our friend from us, 
 which are pertinent to different classes of persons in 
 this community. 
 
 To you, the afflicted household, to whom this loss 
 comes the nearest, I have no vain consolations to offer, 
 such as a worldly mind might demand. To you, to 
 w T hom this affliction comes the nearest, — to you also, 
 the joy of it, the glory of* it, the honor of it, come 
 the nearest. Is it an occasion of mourning, or of sol¬ 
 emn thanksgiving and devout rejoicing, that God hath 
 
 3 
 
18 
 
 counted you worthy of so great an honor, as that two 
 of your number should be enrolled in the army of 
 Christ that occupies the foreign field; that one meekly 
 bears the honors of continued and successful toil; that 
 one has the seal of immortality set upon her finished 
 work? Oh, is it not much to have a dear household 
 name so early set in that galaxy of missionary heroines, 
 in which Harriet Newell was the first star, and to which 
 multitudes shall hereafter aspire, when consecration to 
 the missionary work shall cease to be a distinction, and 
 almost cease to be a self-denial ? If the mother of a 
 hero is happy, what shall we say of the mother of a mis¬ 
 sionary of Jesus? If she is blessed who cherishes the 
 name and the honors of Havelock, who gave his life for 
 his country’s sake, how are they doubly blessed who 
 cherish a parent’s memories of one who gave her life 
 for Christ’s sake ? She who is gone has no regrets at 
 the decision, which she, with a daughter’s meekness 
 and confidence, yielded to you, her parents. * She will 
 eternally bless you, that those consultations, held in the 
 night-watches, in anxiety and tears, resulted in the full 
 consecration , C( here, Lord, we give our daughter to thee, 
 to be thine, living or dying, at Mosul.” Let no vain 
 thought that the sacrifice was too costly weaken your 
 faith in God. He loves the cause of Christ here on 
 earth, more than you can, and he never would have 
 taken your precious gift from the altar of sacrifice, 
 where you had placed it to be used for his cause, if it 
 had not been better for that cause to have it removed. 
 Oh, comfort your hearts with these thoughts! that she 
 whom you loved has exchanged the weariness of mis¬ 
 sionary toil for the rest of heaven; that by your loss 
 
19 
 
 God’s glory is promoted ; that by your loss the Sav¬ 
 iour’s cause is advanced ; yea, that your loss is your gain , 
 for “ our light affliction, 1 which is but for a moment, 
 worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight 
 of glory ; while we look not at the things which are 
 seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the 
 things which are seen' are temporal; but the things 
 which are not seen are eternal.” 
 
 There is in this event a thoughtful lesson for the 
 teachers of the seminary, in this place, where she grad¬ 
 uated. Teachers, if it be a noble distinction to be the 
 mother of missionaries, it is likewise an honor to be a 
 teacher of missionaries, — and so to teach that a mis¬ 
 sionary spirit may be awakened, and thus, through your 
 scholars, you may set all the gems of science which you 
 bestow on them in your Saviour’s crown. Converts to 
 righteousness in your midst; laborers in the vineyard 
 of your Lord, willing. to bear the burden and heat of 
 the day; missionaries of the cross,— these are the high¬ 
 est honor to any seminary of learning. An institution, 
 producing such fruits, never lacks scholars and patrons; 
 never lacks the memorials of grateful remembrance; 
 never fails of success; for consecration to Christ ensures 
 faithfulness and prosperity in every other good and de¬ 
 sirable thing. If it made better soldiers of Havelock 
 and Vicars, it will, by far higher reason, make better 
 scholars. Luther knew the power of inward righteous¬ 
 ness and holy consecration, when he adojoted as his 
 motto, “ bene orasse est bene studuisse .” If you strive to 
 bring your pupils as learners to the feet of Jesus, and 
 imbue them with a missionary spirit, you strive for the 
 highest good ; you gain every end worthy of pursuit in 
 
20 
 
 gaining that. — What! can you wish, can you think of a 
 higher o;ood than to have, in time to come, a multitude 
 of names enrolled on your catalogue, also enrolled in 
 the records of missionary stations, whose sound goes out 
 through all the world, and whose influence will be felt 
 in the new heaven and the new earth wherein dwelleth 
 righteousness ? 
 
 To you, the present members of the Seminary, her 
 example speaks. If it was wise in her to choose the 
 Saviour, and his service as her portion and life-work, 
 would it not be equally the part of wisdom in you? 
 Had she an obligation resting upon her, which is not on 
 you ? Had she a call for gratitude to her Lord which 
 you have not ? Do you applaud her choice, and shall 
 not others approve a like choice in you ? Would you, 
 like her, fall “ asleep in Jesus,” when the hour of death 
 comes, — then you must listen to the voice of your Sav¬ 
 iour now saying to you, “ Go work to-day in my vine¬ 
 yard.” Make this matter of devotion to Christ per¬ 
 sonal ; strengthen the newly awakened desire for holi¬ 
 ness by prayer to the Father of lights. Ask wisdom 
 of Him, who giveth liberally, and from heaven shall 
 descend upon you the answer of mercy, and the conse¬ 
 cration in righteousness. 
 
 To you, especially, the companions of her studies, and 
 the members of her class in graduating, her early death 
 speaks in persuasive tones. The list of nine names is 
 now a list of eight. One space is vacant forever. The 
 earthly pupilage of one of your number is ended. Har¬ 
 riet B. Harding will no more -respond to the summons 
 to earthly toil, or to the whisper of earthly affec¬ 
 tion. She has lain down to her last sleep, not to awake 
 

 21 
 
 till the heavens be no more ; but it is a sleep in Jesus.— 
 Blessed sleep ! Her lone grave, in distant Mosul, calls 
 you to emulate her example, — to take up her unfin¬ 
 ished work, — to go forth in her stead for your Lord 
 and master. Who of you will respond to the call, and 
 gain a place with her ? Who of you can as fully say, 
 
 “Jesus, I my cross have taken, 
 
 All to leave and follow thee.” 
 
 In this event, the Master cometh and calletli you to a 
 high and holy consecration to his service. Happy are 
 they who have ears to heed the call. 
 
 To this church a word of warning is sent by our 
 Divine Bedeemer. Not quite two years did our de¬ 
 parted sister commune with us in the imperfect fellow¬ 
 ship of the church militant. Now she has fallen on the 
 field of conflict, and gone to the chfc?h triumphant. 
 Her Master came for her at the midnight hour, and 
 found her watching. The call was sudden and unex¬ 
 pected, but not unwelcome ; for she had given herself 
 to glorify her Lord by living or dying. “ Be ye also 
 ready; for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of 
 man cometh.” 
 
 Who, from the Sabbath school, where for years she 
 sat as a learner, and for a briefer period pointed the 
 path to heaven as a teacher, will heed this call of God ? 
 Who is emulous of the honor bestowed upon her ? 
 Who will bear her mantle ? Who will gain her undy¬ 
 ing reward ? 
 
 To Christian fathers and mothers, I have a word to 
 say before I close. And here my whole heart speaks. 
 What son, what daughter will you consecrate and train, 
 
22 
 
 * 
 
 and send to fill the vacant place! Says Rev. Mr. Marsh 
 in his letter, “ this is a bitter cup, and not the least 
 bitter is the inquiry, how will Christian fathers and 
 mothers take this new blow to our work ? They have 
 long been very tender of their sons and daughters. Will 
 they count the offering too costly ? Yet now at such a 
 time as this, will not old and young, parents and chil¬ 
 dren, young men and maidens, crowd God’s courts, and 
 with solemn inquiry entreat of God to make known the 
 meaning of this hidden dispensation? Think what 
 thousands of lives go for national aggrandizement! Wit¬ 
 ness India now, and the Crimean war of late ! ” Thus 
 writes this devoted missionary. He is greatly solicitous 
 as to the effect this death may have upon tender fathers 
 and mothers, and through them upon the cause of mis¬ 
 sions. 0 false tenderness to keep back your sons from * 
 this service to Christ! 0 selfish tenderness to withhold 
 
 them from so noble a consecration! It is an honor to be 
 earnestly sought of Heaven to have a son or daughter 
 go to missionary ground. How can Christ be so di¬ 
 rectly imitated in his example of self-denial, or so ex¬ 
 pressly obeyed when he says, “ Go teach all nations.” 
 
 It is an honor to have a child enter such a service. It 
 is a glorious thing to have a son or daughter fall in 
 such a work. Who of you, Christian parents, are asking 
 of God such an honor? Could the mothers of the 
 Revolution put the musket into the hands of their 
 beloved sons, and say, “Meet the enemy and conquer 
 or die ; come back in honor or come not at all,” and 
 shall not Christian fathers and mothers with a holy 
 devotion bid their sons and daughters go forth as sol¬ 
 diers of the cross, and conquer in Jesus’ name ? Shall 
 
earthly emoluments be deemed of more worth than the 
 honor that cometh from God ? Is it sweet to die for 
 one’s country, and not sweet to die for one’s Saviour? 
 In battle, when one falls in the deadly breach, another 
 springs forward to fill the fatal spot. So should it be 
 with the soldiers of the cross; so should it be now ; so 
 must it be now, or Christ will be dishonored. So will it 
 be now, for God will never suffer his Son to be put to 
 shame before a heathen foe. In this event He only 
 tries the faith and zeal of his people. He affords an 
 occasion for us to show our love for his kingdom. Who 
 will embrace it, and devote their son or daughter to this 
 work ? Christian mother, that darling son, the light of 
 your eyes, give him in holy consecration to this service. 
 Nurture that little one from the cradle to be a mission¬ 
 ary of the cross. Father, devote that l J^ved daughter 
 to this holy work. Train those youthful feet to walk in 
 the self-denying steps of Jesus. Thus will joy and 
 peace enter your earthly home, and God will establish 
 with you an everlasting covenant in righteousness. 
 Thus will heaven open its portals to you and your chil¬ 
 dren, and its holy rest receive father and mother, sons 
 and daughters, after earth’s discipline is perfected,— 
 earth’s sacrifice accepted, — earth’s labor finished. 
 
 THE MISSIONARY’S CALL. 
 
 (C My soul is not at rest. There comes a strange 
 And secret whisper to my spirit, like 
 A dream of night, that tells me I am on 
 Enchanted ground. Why live I here ? The vows 
 
24 
 
 Of God are on me, and I may not stop 
 To play with shadows, or pluck earthly flowers, 
 Till I my work have done, and rendered up 
 Account. The voice of my departed Lord, 
 
 “ Go teach all nations,” from the Eastern world 
 Comes on the night air, and awakes my ear. 
 
 “ And I will go. I may no longer doubt 
 To give up friends, and home, and idol hopes, 
 And every tie that binds my heart 
 To thee, my country. 
 
 Henceforth, then, 
 
 It matters not if storm or sunshine be 
 My earthly lot; bitter or sweet my cup; 
 
 I only pray God fit me for the work; 
 
 God make me holy and my spirit nerve 
 For the stern hour of strife. Let me but know 
 There is an arm unseen that holds me up, 
 
 An eye that watches kindly all my path, 
 
 Till I my weary pilgrimage have done — 
 
 Let me but know I have a Friend that waits 
 
 To welcome me to glory, and I joy 
 
 To tread the dark and death-fraught wilderness. 
 
 “ And when I come to stretch me for the last, 
 
 In unattended agony, beneath 
 The cocoa’s shade, or lift, my dying eyes 
 From Afric’s burning sand, it will be sweet 
 That I have toiled for other worlds than this ; 
 And if I should reach heaven — if one for whom 
 Satan hath struggled as he has for me 
 Should ever reach that blissful shore, oh, how 
 This heart will flame with gratitude and love! 
 And through the ages of eternal years, 
 
 Thus saved, my spirit never shall repent 
 That toil and suffering once were mine below.” 
 

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