You fear I shall lose my courage, and look back with longing desires toward America. This I likewise fear. But that God who has said, that his grace shall be sufficient for his children, will, in answer to sincere prayer, grant me new resolution and fresh supplies of strength. "From God is all my aid." O pray for me that I may be furnished with every needful qualification,"

1811.

July 23. I have just read a passage in Thomson's Seasons, which I thought I could adopt as my own language,

"Should fate command me to the farthest verge
Of the green earth, to distant barb'rous climes,
Rivers unknown to song; where first the sun
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam
Flames on the Atlantic Isles! 'tis nought to me,
Since God is ever present-ever just,

In the void waste, as in the city full

And where he vital breathes, there must be joy."

Extracts of a Letter to her sister M. at Charlestown

August 1, 1811. "SHOULD I tell you there is a prospect, of my spending the remaining part of this short life in a land of strangers; should I tell.

these words; "A little slender female may endure losses and sufferings as cheerfully and resolutely, as an apostle. The lovely humility and meekness of a christian woman, are sometimes connected with a tranquillity of mind that no calamities can ruffle, and a firmness that no danger or distress can subdue. The time may come when your courage will sink, and when the cheerfulness and resolution of your Harriet will at once astonish and animate you."-I have to acknowledge that these predictions, (if I may so call them,) have been more than once literally fulfilled.

you I do seriously think of leaving my native dwelling, my friends and companions forever; would you upbraid me? Could you attribute it to want of attachment to the friends of my youth, or to entire ignorance of this great undertaking? You would not, you could not, did you know the conflict which almost rends my heart. Never before did my dear mama, brothers and sisters appear so dear to me. But God commands me! In his holy providence he now offers me an opportunity of visiting the heathen. While many of my female friends who are far more adequate to the important employment are permitted to enjoy the society of their earthly relatives through life, I am called to quit the scenes of my childhood, and go to a far distant country. How can I ever pray for the promotion of the gospel among the heathen, if I am unwilling to offer my little aid when such an opportunity is given? I know what to expect from a gay and thoughtless world. But I have this consolation that ridicule cannot injure my soul.

I have this consolation, if the motives by which I am actuated are sincere and good, God will accept the inclination to glorify him, even though I should not be made useful. But my dear sister, this is a trying season! It is from God alone that I derive the least sensible comfort. This world has lost its power to charm and all its applause is a trifle light as air. My companions are perhaps accusing ane of superstition and the love of novelty. But God alone knows the motives by which I am actuated, and he alone will be my final

Judge. Let me but form such a decision as he will approve, and I ask no more. Willingly will I let go my eager grasp of the things of time and sense, and flee to Jesus. Oh that he would prepare me for the future events of life, and glorify himself in the disposal of my

concerns.

1811.

Aug. 7. I have just laid down Horne on Missions. How did his pious heart glow with benevolence to his fellow creatures! How ardently did he wish for the promulgation of the gospel, among the benighted heathen! I think, for a moment, I partake of his ardor, and long to hear that the standard of the cross is set up in the distant nations of the earth. "Yes, christian heroes! go-proclaim Salvation through Immanuel's name: To India's clime the tidings bear, And plant the rose of Sharon there,"

Willingly would I sacrifice the dearest earthly friend to engage in this Llessed service. Oh that I had a thousand pious rejatives, well calculated for the important station of Missionaries; the tenderest ties that bind me to them should be rent. I would say to them,-go-and let the destitute millions of Asia and Africa know, there is compassion in the hearts of christians; tell them of the love of Jesus, and the road to bitss on high. Providence now gives me an opportunity to go myself to the heathen. Shall I refuse the offer-shall I love the glittering toys of this dying world so well, that I cannot relinquish them for God? Forbid it Heaven! Yes, I will go

However weak, and unqualified I am, there is an all-sufficient Savior ready to support me. In God alone is my hope. I will trust his promises, and consider it one of the highest privileges that would be conferred upon me, to be permitted to engage in his glorious service, among the wretched inhabitants of Hindostan.

Extracts of a Letter to Mr. Newell.

Haverhill, Aug. 9th, 1811. I AM astonished at my calmness, when contemplating the probable events of my future life. Shall I impute these feelings to insensibility? Have I no ties to bind me to my native country? Have I no natural affection for my friends? Surely it is not because I have taken a wrong view of the subject and am anticipating a life of ease and tranquillity. Why is it thus? Often do I look forward, not only without distress, but with a degree of pleasure, once unknown. I feel a satisfaction in committing my mortal interest to God, and in relying on him for those supplies of grace, which will enable me to persevere in the path of duty. The subject is solemn and important. While my heart sometimes exults at the prospect of being made the favored instrument of bringing home one heathen to Jesus; I often tremble, lest some inferior motive should induce me to make these great sacrifices. But was it any earthly consideration which first directed my

thoughts to the heathen world?

1811.

Aug. 11. How reviving to my disconsolate mind, has been the word of life, this day! Oh, this adorable plan of salvation! Have I the least inclination to alter one single part of it, if I could? O no, I would not be less holy-Í would not wish God to exact less perfect obedience from his creatures.

Mr. R. drank tea with us. I felt the same backwardness in conversing upon the things of the kingdom, that I usually do Whence this criminal diffidence. O when will divine grace so absorb my heart, that my stammering tongue shall be loosed, and Jesus and his salvation be my theme! If I cannot unite in conversing with believers, in a land where religion flourishes, how can I speak to the benighted heathen of India, whose minds are involved in pagan darkness?

To Miss M. S. of Boston.

Haverhill, Sabbath, Aug. 11, 1811. "How great, my dear M. would be the pleas, ure, could I retreat with you to some lonely corner, far from the busy haunts of this vain world, and unbosom to you the secrets of my heart instead of writing to you. But this dear privilege is denied me. I must be content with expressing a few unconnected thoughts on paper for the present, and will anticipate a happy meeting with you on earth, and a still happier one in those regions, where the friends of Immanuel will never more be separated. What if our intercourse on earth should cease?