are unacquainted with the glad tidings; who spend their wretched lives in worshipping dumb idols; whose lips have never been vócal with redeeming love. Oh, when will the radiant star in the east direct them to Bethlehem! Oh, when will the highpraises of Immanuel resound from the lips of the Hindoo in Asia, the Hottentot of Africa, and the inhospitable Indian of our dear native America! The glorious morn of the millenium hastens.With an eye of faith we pass the mountains that now obstruct the universal spread of the gospel, and behold, with joy unspeakable, the beginning of a cloudless day, "the reign of peace and love." Shall we, my ever dear M. who fondly hope that we are the lambs of Jesus' flock, be content to live indolent,. inactive lives, and not assist in the great revolution* about to be effected in this world of sin? Oh no;: we will not let it be said, at the great day, that one soul for whom the Son of God became incarnate, for whom he groaned away a dying life, has perished through our neglect. Let worldly ease be sacrificed, let a life of self-denial and hardships be welcome to us, if the cause of God may thereby be most promoted, and sinners most likely to be saved from destruction.

Notwithstanding all the encouragements which the Scriptures afford to those who leave all things for God, and devote their lives to his service, still my heart often recoils at the evils of a missionary life. The idea of taking a last farewell of friends and country, and all that is dear on earth, (a few friends only excepted) is exceedingly trying. Yes, my friend; Harriet will shortly be an exile in a fo

reign country, a stranger in a strange land. But it is for God that I sacrifice all the comforts of a civilized life. This comforts me; this is my hope, this my only consolation. Will M. think of me, will she pray for me, when stormy oceans separate us? Will imagination ever waft her to the floating prison or the Indian hut, where she, who was once honoured with the endearing appellation of friend, resides? May we meet in heaven, where friends will no more be called to endure a painful separation! May peace and happiness long be inmates of M.'s breast! May she increase in the enjoyment of her God, as days and years increase! How can I wish her more. substantial bliss? Shall I not be favoured with one more undisturbed interview with you?: Shall I not give you a parting kiss? Shall I not say, farewell? Why may I not spend the litthe remnant of my days with you? Must I be separated? But enough my heart is full; gladly would I fill my sheet with ardent expressions of lasting friendship.

"But hush, my fond heart, hush-
There is a shore of better promise;

And I hope at last, we two shall meet

In Christ to part no more."

A few more letters will probably close our corres pondence for ever. Will you write me immediately? M. will gratify me if she loves me.

Will you

1

not visit Haverhill this winter? I long to see you. Ecannot tell you how much I regretted the loss of i your society last summer. I have since been favoured with an introduction to your dear Miss G A lovely girl. Affectionately your's,

HARRIET..

10 Miss S. H. of Andover.

Haverhill, Feb. 3. 1812.

"The long expected hour is at length arrived, and I am called to bid an eternal adieu to the dear land of my nativity, and enter upon a life replete with crosses, privations, and hardships. The conflicting emotions which rend my heart, imagination will point out to my dear Miss H. better than my pen can describe them. But still peace reigns many an hour within. Consolations are mine, more valuable than ten thousand worlds. My Saviour, my Sanctifier, my Redeemer, is still lovely; his comforts will delight my soul. Think of Harriet when crossing the stormy ocean-think of her, when wandering over Hindostan's sultry plains. Farewell, my friend-a-last, a long farewell.

May we meet in yonder world, "where adieus and farewells are a sound unknown !"

Give dear Mrs. W. a parting kiss from Harriet. Write to and pray often for HARRIET.

To Miss S. B. of Haverhill.

Haverhill, Feb. 1812.

ACCEPT, my ever dear Sarah, the last tribute of heart-felt affection from your affectionate Harriet, which you will ever receive. The hour of my departure hastens; when another rising sun illumines the eastern horizon, I shall bid a last farewell to a beloved widowed mother, brothers and sisters dear, and the circle of Haverhill friends. With a scene so replete with sorrow just at hand, how can I be

otherwise than solemn as eternity! The motives which first induced me to determine upon devoting my life to the services of God in distant India, now console my sinking spirits. Oh how valuable, how exceedingly precious, are the promises of the gospel!

A

Eighteen years of my life have been spent in tranquillity and peace. But those scenes, so full of happiness, are departed. They are gone "with the years beyond the flood," no more to return. painful succession of joyless days will succeed; trials numberless and severe, will be mine to share. Home, that dearest, sweetest spot,-friends whose society has rendered the morn of life pleasant, must be left for ever! The stormy ocean must be crossed; and an Indian cottage, in a sultry clime, must shortly, contain all that is Harriet. Perhaps no sympathizing friend will stand near my dying bed, to wipe the falling tear, to administer consolation, or to entomb my worthless ashes when my immortal spirit quits this earthly tabernacle.

But why indulge these melancholy sensations? Is it not for Jesus that I make these sacrifices→→ and will He not support me by his grace? Oh yes, my heart replies, he will.

"The sultry climes of India then I'll choose; There will I toil, and sinners' bonds unloose;

There will I live, and draw my latest breath;

And, in my Jesus' service, meet a stingless death."

My friend, there is a rest for the weary pilgrim in yonder world. Shall we meet there," when the long Sabbath of the tomb is past ?"

Sarah, my much loved friend, farewell. Fare

well, perhaps for ever. Though trackless forests separate, though oceans roll between, O forget not HARRIET

These were the last letters written by Mrs. NEWELL, before her departure from America. On the 6th of Feb. 1812, when the missionaries were ordained at Salem, Mrs. NEWELL was present. On that interesting occasion, she manifested remarkable tranquillity and resolution. Feb. 19, 1812, with Mr. Newell, and Mr. and Mrs. Judson, she sailed from Salem, and took leave for ever of her native land, amidst the prayers and benedictions of multitudes.

The following diary, written on her passage to India, and addressed to her mother, was lately re-. ceived.

1812.

March 9. To you, my beloved mother, shall these pages be cheerfully dedicated. If they afford you amusement in a solitary hour, if they are instrumental in dissipating one anxious sensation from your heart, I shall be doubly rewarded for writing. Whatever will gratify a mother so valuable as mine, shall here be recorded, however uninteresting it might be to a stranger. The first week after our embarkation, I was confined to my bed with sea-sickness. This was a gloomy week. But my spirits were not so much depressed as I once expected they would be. The attendants were obliging, and I had every convenience which I could

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