UCSB LIBRARY LIFE AND WRITINGS MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL, CONSOllT OK 11EV. D. B. COWELL, WHO DIED IN LEBANON, MAINE, OCT. MIV\\V.| 1872, Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, BY J. E. BUTLER & CO., In the Office of tte Librarian of Congress, at Washington. PREFACE. WHILE, with astonishment, we behold the mighty cataract, as it leaps from its rocky bed ; or gaze on the rushing stream, as it dashes and foams down the mountain side ; or, with wonder, look at the deep, broad river, as its waters move along to old ocean's bed, we almost forget the beautiful, mean- tiering stream, as it silently moves along in the meadows below, giving life to vegeta- tion, and causing, in harvest, the husband- man to leap for joy, so, while in amaze- ment we hear of the heroic deeds of warriors, who have slain their (Bousands, and stained many u battle-field with blood ; or the brave sons of the ocean, who, to gain renown, have pushed their discoveries far into the ice-bound regions, in suffering and often death ; or the man who, to gain the glitter- ing toys of earth, has endured hardships and 4 PREFACE. encountered (lungers, on the sea and land, we have almost forgotten the placid, silent influence of the female who has toiled through life to throw a healthful atmosphere around community, and especially the young, where her lot has been cast. It has been the work of the subject of our sketch to live for the good of others, by her words of cheer, and comfort, and admonition, and throw around the giddy youth the- words of love which have drawn many to the Saviour's arms ; and through them mighty victories have been won, and many brought to the feet of Prince Im- manuel. Why not publish to the world what woman in her humble sphere has done, and is capa- ble of doing, to benefit the world and re- deem it to God? This noble purpose the writer of this sketch has in view in its pub- lication, hoping it may do good in encour- aging the young early to "choose wisdom's way and walk in the path of virtue, which is the only path of safety, and to cheer on those mothers who tire toiling alonjj life's PREFACE. 5 rough and stormy way, until they shall gain that Heaven of rest which God has prepared for his people. By the earnest solicitations of friends this imperfect sketch appears before the public; imperfect, indeed, because when written, it was expected that but a small portion of it would ever go in print, and when collected and re- written, it has been done in haste, and many valuable productions have been lost or destroyed. Therefore we hope the critic's eye will pass by its imperfections, and only gather the good it was designed to do in its publication. LIFE AND WRITINGS MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL MAJOR COFFIN was among the first settlers of the town of Alton, Xew Hampshire. He took up a large tract of land of what was then a wilderness, and after much hard toil succeeded in clearing it up and bringing it into a good state of cultivation. He raised a large family of children, who were early taught to labor and endure many hardships, which were common to those hardy pioneers who first broke the wilds of rugged "Xew England, but which are almost wholly un- known to us, living among all the comforts and privileges of the present day. But the labors among the rugged hills and on the rocky farms, raised up strong and sturdy LIFE AM) WHITINGS OF sons and healthy, vigorous daughters. Major Coffin had the plcnsure to see nearly all of . his children married and settled around him within a circuit of a few miles of the paternal home. i>y the religious teachings and pray- ers of a pious mother, and by surrounding Christian influences, all these children sought and found their Saviour. The youngest of these sons, Stephen, married Deborah Phil- brick, an estimable young lady, daughter of one of the pioneer settlers of Sanlx>rnton, Xe\v Hampshire, and settled near his father's farm in Alton. His second daughter, Chris- tiana, the subject of this sketch, was born September 24th, 1821. The path of her childhood was often crossed with the many shadows of little trials, doubts, fears, grievances, and all the perplexities so farge to them which are incident to the childhood of us all ; yet, amid it all, she always preserved a sunny temper. Reared in her country home, among the hills and dale^ of .{he "Switzerland of America," where Nature lias so lavishly be- stowed her varieties and beauties, she spent MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. sonic of the happiest moments of her youth in roaming through lields and woods, play- ing by the laughing brooks, mocking the singing birds, driving the cattle off to pas- ture at early dawn, when a few faint streaks of sunlight streamed over the eastern horizon, and again driving them home in the still twilight. While others shut their eyes, and could see nothing attractive in the opening flowers, the murmuring brooks, the warbling birds, the fleecy clouds, the stars, moon and sun, she saw loveliness and beauty painted on them by the fingers of a Divine Workman ; and, no doubt, that in these days of child- hood, spent in communion with Nature, she drank in many of those beautiful strains and lofty themes, which, in after-life flowed so freely from her pen and spread such a sweet- ness over her whole life. When she was seven years of age, her father moved to Dover, New Hampshire. Here, he and Deacon Jenness built a house, part of which they dedicated for the worship of God. It w;is a place where many of the i 10 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF servants of God preached the Gospel. It was in this bethel that the long-to-be-rcmem- bered Rev. Elias Hutching once preached during one of his preaching tours. He was listened to by the young Christiana, who said that then she began to feel that she was a great sinner, and there she sought and found the Saviour, to the great rejoicing of her heart, being then only eight years old. At the return of her father, who had been absent a few days, she ran to meet him, and clasping him, exclaimed, "Pa, I have found Jesus ! Why hadn't you told me he was so good? If you had, I should have sought him before." She now commenced her Christian life. She not only had the privilege of hearing the gospel preached from Sabbath to Sabbath, but also here she could mingle her voice with converts in prayer and praise ; she also had nursing fathers and mothers, who took her by the hand and aided her along the Christian path. Her father remained in Dover some more than a year longer, where her youthful mind had the privilege of attending school and advancing MRS. CHRISTIANA 15. COWELL. 11 and exploring the hidden treasures in the field of knowledge. She was so diligent in her studies, and made so much improvement, that her teacher gave to her a class in English Grammar and Parsing, for her to hear their recitations. And thus she continued serving the Lord with a full purpose of heart and training her mind for future usefulness. When eleven years of age, she with an ekler sister followed their Saviour in the ordinance of baptism, in Alton, whither her father had returned. She ahvays considered it as one of the happiest days of her life : and who does not feel that the day when the}' follow the example of their Saviour is a happy day, and can almost hear the voice of Grod saying, " I am well pleased " ? The administrator of this ordinance, and wife, in after years wrote as follows, dated at Brunswick, Me., Jan. 30th, 1856: SISTER CHRISTIANA, After so many long years of absence, I take this opportunity to address you by the way of a short epistle. I 12 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF thank you for your epistle by the way of your lather, who called on us a few weeks since, Indeed, we were glad to see him. It is about twenty years, with one exception, since we last suw him. I have not seen nor heard from you since we met down by that delightful pond of water where you and your sister took upon you your baptismal vow ; that vow, I trust, you have regarded until now. Amen. May the Lord keep you and yours until the coming kingdom of Jesus Christ. In your letter you tell us of the death of your dear mother. Oh, how many times I have thought of that deal* woman ! As God blessed her, so may He bless her dear children and husband whom she has left behind. Also, in your letter, you tell us that you have lost near and dear little ones. May the Lord help you to bear up under this affliction, for affliction indeed it is; we know how to sympathize with you for we have lost our all, the greatest affliction we ever met with, but say, as Jesus said concerning the cross, "Thy will, and not mine, be done." Dear Sister Christiana, If you and I meet no more on the shores of time, I hope we shall be so unspeakably happy as to meet in the Heavenly Jerusalem. We know to enter the Kingdom of Heaven must be through much tribulation. Let us put on the whole armor, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 13 my dear sister, and face the enemy. (iod will give the victory. Amen ! Hallelujah ! God gives the victory. Let your alms and your prayers come up before the Lord as :i sweet sacrifice as life unto life. Please say to your husband, Preach Jesus, at the sacrifice of property, wife or children, if it be necessary. Those who are found faithful unto the end, will hear from their Lord, " AVell done, good and faithful servant." I must say farewell. ANDREW ROLLINS. A few extracts from a letter written by his wife : "DEAR SISTER CHRISTIANA, ~\Ve are glad to hear from yon, although years have passed away since we saw you ; notwithstanding, you have not been forgotten. Many changes have taken place since we parted with you in Alton, on the day when you followed Christ in the ordi- nance of baptism. We have never forgotten the season, and have frequently spoken of it to friends, and we are glad to learn that you are still pursuing the journey. AVe hope soon to see the end of the race, and meet in the new Jerusalem, where sickness and sorrow, pain and death, will he felt and feared no more. I 14 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF will close wishing you all the grace that is need- ful to carry you through the cares and trials of this life and bring you safe at home to dwell with Christ. Oh, I long for that day the day when the saints will be clothed in immortal bloom to die no more. HULDAII ROLLINS. After her baptism she went on her way -rejoicing, attending meetings with her par- ents, where her voice was often heard in singing praises to God, and exhorting all around ito fall in love with her dear Saviour. When not thus engaged, she was improving her mind by study, training herself for a still higher usefulness in the cause of her Redeemer. Many were brought to Christ through her virtuous life and example, her tender plead- ings, and earnest, fervent prayers. Thus passed the years of her youth, crowded with sorrows and sadness ; but yet all these clouds were silver-lined with the many joys and pleasures which she found in nature, education, youth and religion. The follow- ing is related of her when she was a small girl: "One day she went into the field with Mi:*. CHHISTIAXA 15. TOWELL. 15 her sister and father. Her father was plant- ing corn, and he v brought them to drop it for him. Finding more kernels in a hill than he had ordered, he became angry, and struck Christiana a blow on the side of her head. She calmly and sadly looked him in the face and said, " Father, I think you have done wrong; I did not do it, it Avas sis- ter." Her father said that the rebuke was so gentle and Christian-like that it pierced him to the heart, and it was always the hardest cross he ever took up to pray in her presence." Her father's house was always open to the weary pilgrim, of every name, who loved the Lord Jesus Christ, and his granary was always open to feed their horses. Thus Christiana had the priv- elege of drinking from the stream, whose waters make glad the city of our God ; she took great delight in waiting on the servants of the Most High ; and often she would sit up until a late hour in the night, braiding hats, that she might earn something to give to the poor, or a small gift to the servants of Christ, to encourage them to still labor in the Master's Vineyard. 16 LIFE AND WRITIXGS OF The writer well remembers, during the !ir-l visit he ever made *here, in company with a minister of the Gospel, that on the last morning before their leave they all bowed before the family altar, where the Scriptures were read and prayer offered every morning. After several had invoked the Divine bless- ing, Christiana, in an earnest, humble prayer, asked her Heavenly' Father to remember in a special manner his servants, and as they went forth to labor for the salvation of the world, to go with them and give them suc- cess. A few years after, her father, desir- ing to give her and the rest of his children better advantages for an education, moved to AVolfeboro', Xew Hampshire, and settled by the beautiful Lake Winnipisseogee ("smile of the Great Spirit"). Here our youthful friend rejoiced to think that she could drink larger draughts from the fount of knowledge. She was so studious, improved each moment so well, and performed so faithfully each laborious task, that she soon obtained the position of an assistant in the academy. But her bright hopes, her glowing prospects, MIJS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 17 her youthful aspirations were soon to be clouded, for a Christian mother the best friend ou earth Avas about to take her departure for the spirit-land. AVc will now copy a few extracts from her pen : THE MOTHER'S LAST PRAYER. BY CRADLE-SIDE. Ox the shore of the beautiful lake in the Granite State, called the "Smile of the Great Spirit," was our early home. The advantages of the literary institution there, and all the facilities that parental IOYO and faithfulness could secure for our improvement, together with the truly grand and pk-turesque scenery of the locality, rendered ours indeed a happy, quiet, rural home. Though bright and balmy was life's morning, clouds were soon stealing down its horizon, and casting deep and long shadows along our path. Our mother was changing. Her step was becoming slow and feeble, her eye large and languid, her words few and sometimes slightly mournful in tone of utterance. 18 LIFF AXO WRITINGS OF She was long conscious of the unyielding grasp of disease upon her, yet had not spoken freely of her convictions, until the evening to which this sketch refers. The Sabbath day was closing, and the family were sitting silently in the gray twilight, or moving, with muffled tread about the house. Who can define that mysterious'awe which pervades the household when sickness comes? That spell-like power, that holds the floating thought, till a vivid con- sciousness of the inner being and its solemn destinies is fully aroused, and the heretofore idolized treasures of earthly vanity dwindle to a point. It was at such an impressive hour that a request was whispered among us, from our mother, to come to her room. Four in num- ber, we quietly took our seats around the open tire where she was sitting. I see her still, as on that night, Reclining iu that large armed-chair, While on her face, the taper light Showed death and heaven soft blended there. "Children," she said, "I wish to see you all together. I shall soon leave you. You can- not understand how hard it is for me to break away from my own dear children, and go away, and leave them in a world of sin and suffering. Mils. CIIUIsTIAXA B. CO WELL. H< Yet God is nble to u'ive 1110 strength : He knows what is best." With frequent intervals of rest, in a tremu- lous voice, she told of life's great responsibili- ties, its snares and ills. She talked of duties to each other, of care and reverence for our lather, who, in addition to the family charge soon to double upon him, had felt the commis- sion, "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel/' and above all a preparation to meet her again where sickness and death could never come. Tears and sobs were all the response we were able to make. These told her how deeply her words were sinking into our hearts, and how painful was the rending of the ties that bound us. After a pause for rest, she turned to her son, then about fifteen years of age, who had taken a low seat by her side, and taking his hand in one of her's, and resting the other upon his head, she said, "My dear boy, I have no hope, no assur- ance that we shall meet again. How often I have counselled you, and prayed for you. I can do no more. You still choose the path of sin and death. If you pursue this fatal road, I shall never see you again. Must I give you up? O my son, my only son !" Here her voice, hitherto calm while all 20 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF i around her wept, was lost in the surging of her own grief. She bowed her head upon her hands and yielded to the tide of tenderness and emotion with which we were nil overwhelmed. Mother, whose eyes rest on this page, hath ever stood on life's outer verge, where the hoarse murmur of the death wave came rising up from beneath, while around you, clinging to your garments and drawing upon your heart- strings, were your children entreating your stay ? As you have turned your eyes to the further shore, seen the pilots in waiting, and the golden gates opening to receive you into their everlasting joys, and have there and then remembered that not nil your children had secured a passport to that glorious city? Then take with you that experience, and enter with me that solemn room, for you can understand the depths from which come up those moans so plaintive, so faint and low that nothing lives betwixt them and silence. O.:, for strength for this hour, she says, once more to pray. This will be the last; I feel it must be so. Slowly she sinks to the attitude of prayer, all of us following her example, while she pours forth her full soul, with a trembling pathos and earnest tenderness as make every heart thrill with emotions never to be forgotten, it was indeed the last. Mater- nal love's last throbbing. MKS. CHHISTIAXA B. COWKLL. '21 "You are no longer mine," she said, some clays after this event, as she seemed rapidly sinking in death. "I have given you all to God. My work is done. Whatever be your end my soul will rest in peace. I am only waiting my hour." As the weary to his rest, as the pilgrim to his home, as the loving heart to its treasure, so passed our mother into heaven, joyful and triumphant.* Long years have passed, bearing us onward deep into life's toils and conflicts, where the heart is often fainting, while Duty, duty, is (lie sound, To which we tramp life's battle-ground. From amid the dust and heat of such a stand- point, how sweet to look far back to that dear home hearth, to see that large armed-chair slowly moving to and fro in the fire-light, with its precious burden, a pale, shadowy remnant of m} T mother ; frail cage, containing a large full fledged soul, air winged for its homeward flight, and scattering down to us as she rises, love gems, to be worn ever as sweet memorials in our bosoms. How sweet to pause amid the noise of busy life, and listen to the hallowed tones of that last prayer, as they come vibra- ting up through the depths of twenty years, 22 UFK AND WRITINGS OF and sweep over our spirit chords, waking soul- inspiring melody. Even now we see that altar of consecration, on which are lain a mother's heart-treasures, all quivering and bleeding, just torn from the parent bosom that can claim them no longer. I see the offering of tears poured out upon the sacrifice, and over all and mingled therewith I see the sweet incense of filial love and divine trust now rising, a snowy cloud circling, still circling the throne of the Eternal One, sweet token of acceptance there. Yes, it did find acceptance there. The son for whom she plead, for some years resisted the influences gathered around him. Still her memory hung over him and repelled the re- turning angel, until he yielded fully to the Spirit's power. Such were his self-reproaches and contrition, that he exclaimed, "Oh, what a sinner I Oh, my mother, could she but pray for me. Could she hear me ask forgiveness for the grief I have caused her to feel." The wounded spirit found the true balm at the foot of the cross and was healed. Who shall say that his angel mother shared not in the " more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety-and-nine that need no repentance ! " MRS. OIIKISTIAN'A B. COWELL. "23 POETRY ON FRIENDSHIP, WRITTEN IN YOUTH. Tell me, who can, where friendship reigns, Where hate and envy never gains Ascendency of love ; Where virtue takes imperial sway, And all the passions every day IH sweet accordance move. I asked the gay and sprightly throng, Who seemed to be in union strong, If friendship trne was there ; Each paused, and sighed, and dropped a tear, And said, "True friendship is not here, But dwells we know not where." I asked the youth of riper years, When suddenly a flow of tears Was falling to the ground ; And, turning to a cruel maid, Who once had won his heart, he said, " Friendship I have not found." I asked the maid of lovely hue, If she would show me friendship true ; But soon her heart was grieved, And, turning to a perjured youth, While sighing, spoke the solemn truth, " Alas ! I was deceived.'' I asked for friendship of the sage, He looked upon my youthful age, And sighing, did exclaim, ' Dear youth, thou oft on earth must sigh, For disappointments, over nigh, Minglod with hitter pain." 24 LIFE AND WRITING!? OF ]{y many Ions? revolving years, lie learnt this is a vale of tears A scene of human woe. In vain we seek for friendship here Although it's shadows oft appear, And oft they from us go. It is not he whose flattering mind Would fain my thoughts defend, Whose friendship from some interest springs, That I would call my friend ; But he, who would my numerous faults And my ways seek to mend, Whose smile would only merit gain : Him would I call my friend. He, who in sad misfortune's hour, .Some needful aid would lend, Nor sink when clouds of sorrow lower : Him would I call my friend. Extracts from letters written before her marriage, to the one who became her partner for life: AUGUST, 1840. I received your letter the 3d. You ask me to open my mine freely. It has been a trait inseparable from my nature to be frank and free from disguise. If I know my own heart, (which I find no easy task to learn), I am MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 25 willing to lot others know it, especially on points of so great moment as forming friend- ship for life. With your sentiments I feel my heart fully respond. Though friendship, so sweet a cordial to the wounded heart : so bright a sun iu the moral world ; so tender yet strong a bond, that cements, or rather connects the human family, so valuable though it be, is known or felt in its purity by few, so it seems to me. Sought from pure disinterested mo- tives, so tinn that time and circumstance can never shake. Really, Sir, I have sometimes felt that there was none in all the earth, that the pure stream had all gone back to its foun- tain-head, and existed only among the guileless throng in heaven. Dear Sir, from my child- hood my whole aim has been to go far up the hill of science. I have ever felt I could make any earthly sacrifice at learning's happy shrine, if I may use the expression. I started with light foot and happy heart to explore the scien- tific regions, but Providence intervened, has stopped me long enough to look at my motives, to prize my privileges, and now I feel I may begin again. It is true there are moments when I feel alone. My mother, my truest friend, is gone ; and I, unprotected, uuguided, exposed to the thousand dangers of a delusive world. Yet these fcelinsrs drive me to seek 26 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF refuge 'neath the wing of Him who has re- deemed me. Securely nestled there, I feel that the storms of life may lower around me, the invading foe assail me, but in vain. "I can view alike their dawn and close." For I hear his voice through the tempest, "Lo, I am with you." Amid the conflicts in which my soul is sometimes near sinking, and I feel that I must fall by the hand of mine enemy, I hear him saying, "My grace is sufficient for thee." In the world tribulation, but in me peace. The bright crown of glory that is in store for the weary pilgrims "of earth is sometimes waved in my sight, and my spirit rises above its conflicts, and waits for the coming of the Master, to take home his weary bride. I can resign myself into the hands of God, saying, "Thy will, not mine, be done." I know not the path he has marked out for me, if it be life or death, joy or sorrow, suffering or prosperity, I am submis- sive, if I am but in the hands and service of God. Pray. Pray. CHRISTIANA B. COFFIN. MONDAY EVE, Sept., 1840. I have come away into my chamber to spend a few moments in writing. Oh, it is a most lovely night ! The moon looks in upon me so sweetly, and so sadly, too, that I can do little MRS. CHRISTIANA li. COWELL. 27 else than watch her silent march through the clouds. Pardon this introduction. Really such the scene, the associations of this degree or big- ness of the moon, that comes over me. "Twas such a night as this when first my mother slept beneath the turf." 'Twas just where now, the moon that night she hung over the happy dreamless slumberer. Long I gazed from my window, as now I gaze, when my bleeding, writhing heart felt so strange, so soothing power came o'er it, almost as though Nature itself was mourning with me, and the moon shone so peculiarly mild that it calmed the violent stir- rings of grief in my bosom, like the kind tones of sympathy and friendship. And I have ever loved a moonlight night ; and when I take my pen I can but pour forth the pleasant yet plaintive breathings which it awakens ; I want to have my mind elevated above everything of earth. It is sweet to me when I can here bow, and send my whole soul up far above the span- gled vault to the land of the blest, and hold sweet communion with spirits of spotless purity. But I have felt a great anxiety of late to know of being accepted of God. I have at- tended the meeting at A. with father. It ap- peared to be a very powerful meeting. Some of talent and much influence started for a better laud. Truly the Lord of Hosts was there. 28 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF The "mountains melted before him, and the tall oaks of Bashan bowed at His approach." Oh, how animating to the sinking mind, to see the coming of the Lord among the strong holds of the enemy ! the ranks of Zion tilling up ; the fatal snares of delusion broke, that have long kept in bondage those designed to be mighty champions in the, Israel of God ! Truly my soul doth wish Mount Zion well, whate'er be- comes of me. I feel to trust in God, hoping I may yet praise Him, Once more come out into broad rivers and streams where the vain winds of doctrine and delusions of earth will no more toss my weak bark. Oh, long, very long, I have been tossing in deep darkness. The heavens seemed clothed in sackcloth, and deaf to my prayers. Though I have seen the mov- ing of God among his people, and the returning of wanderers, and the songs of the redeemed I have heard, and rejoiced for awhile. But I am not low down in the sanctuary of God as in days gone by, where I would weep for the sins of the world, and send up my whole soul at mercy's altar, pleading that the lost might live. Keep humble and pray for me. C. B. C. Like Rebekah, I have been away weepino 1 before the Lord, and can well nigh adopt her language, "Thine O God, am I. Thy will my MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 29 law." I feel a kind of peace steal o'er me as I write, "I will go with the man." Let me live and die in the service of my Lord, and lay my all upon the altar. Oh, for more of the spirit of Him who sacrificed his life for his enemies ! Pray without ceasing. Oh, for vital, deep- toned piety ! NOVEMBER 26, 1840. ABSENT OXE. I have come away to my chamber, at the declining of this busy day, to hold silent converse with the absent. I sup- pose you are thinking, now and then, How is C. prospering? How looks and sounds the world to her? &c. I have not time to go into a full detail of the many revolutions in my mind. I sometimes feel like the lone mariner on the deep, whose only guide is ere and anon a glimpse of the Xorth Star, and that often shrouded in deep, thick cloudy cloaks. But O Heaven, Sweet Heaven ! Dear Lord, shall I soon get to Heaven? Oh, I see the port sometimes, D., and wish I were there. Have you had Old Mother Hoard's wings of faith lifting you up since 1 saw you? Yes, I believe with her, that faith has wings. Often we soar on them far upward, till the din of this jar- ring world dies in the distance, and the strains of celestial harmony strike on our ears. Would 30 LIFE AXD WRITINGS OF I yes, we, live more, yea, altogether, above the groveling, unsatisfying enjoyments of earth ! Why dream of bliss unmixed with Heavenly Joys ? I want I seek none other than that which flows from the exhaustless fount of Heaven's mercies. Would the mind were in us that was in Christ, to live but for the good of the world, and not for the empty charms that it affords. Such a dark, cold night as this think you that that holy, meek Sufferer lay ou the earth in agonizing supplication ! The same heavens over us, the same breezes to waft our prayers upward, that bore to the skies the breathing of the Holiest of Holies of Him who lived but to suffer, who suffered but to save, who saved his foes, or rather suffered for them. Is it not possible to live as free from evil as Him that knew no guile? Is it not possible to stay our spirits on or around Heaven's altar, where they may hold constant communion with God and sister spirits. We were not designed, we know, to scope or rather bound our enjoyments, our labors on earth's small stage. As I have sometimes ex- pressed, we are or may be learning to act a high and conspicuous part on Heaven's high theatre. We may fill us a crown with many gems, dug and gathered though with sorrow and labor from earth's dark, rough, uncouth MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 31 quariy, to cast at the feet of Him that sitteth on the throne, to survey the spoils and gains of his stewards as they come in before Him. Oh, what transporting ideas of the victor's con- quest, the laborer's harvest, the summer's prize, are passing before my mind ! I am almost de- siring to be freed of these burdening clogs that pen in my mind, that I might see more clearly into the mysteries and beauties of the happier state. But I feel my mental faculties so palsied, so ever groping and dwelling among the trivial matters around me, that I have hardly a touch of heavenly energies. When I would soar, I fall back to feel I lack the power. Did you have young David's God .with you last Sabbath? I felt a good spirit of prayer for you. Oh, live low in the beautiful valley " where the dark storms of envy and folly roll on their billows in vain." In God do I put my trust. He is my rock. Oh, shall I stand so frail a child 'mid all life's billows, and when the world burns ? Oh, Heaven ! sweet Heaven ! I sing, there is our final home. I hate my sinful self, I hate my narrow thoughts ; I wish nay slothful mind With keener powers were fraught. 32 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF I long to be engaged In something good and wise. And far from groveling sense, Be soaring toward the skies. I've been the barren tree, Content with bearing leaves ; No froit is found in me My mind no treasure yields. 1 feel its emptiness. And sigh for higher air ; I long to feel my thoughtlessness Exchanged for holy prayer." WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. A simple line of friendship In this fair book I pen,. To wake in thy affections The memory of thy friend, And when thy spirit lingers, With sadly brooding wings, O'er hours we've spent together In merry school-day scenes, Then know that in tbis bosom Kind thoughts of thee shall dwell And prayers that all thy footsteps By Heaven be guarded well. May life's resistless sorrow Around thee gently fait, And draw thy trusting spirit To Him who reigns o'er all. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 33 Till death's unwearied pinions Shall bear tht-e hence away ; Then Oh, for a reunion In the land of endless day. WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. At thy request, my gentle friend, On this fair page a line I pen ; And hope, as here my name you trace, 'Twill find in thy kind heart a place. A sunny hour of life's short day 'Mid gladsome smiles we've passed away ; With prospects Ikir, and spirits light, We've sipped at science's fountain bright. But ah, a cloud comes o'er our brow ; We know we must be parted now. Perchance, through life's eventful train, We ne'er may meet on earth again. Yet there's a hope we cherish yet, That when apart we'll not forget, And when life's pilgrimage is o'er We'll meet in Heaven to part no more ; Around God's throne to sing his praise, And there our holy anthems raise ; With golded harps with angels sing, And make the Heavenly arches ring. 2* 34 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF LINES BY THE LAKE-SIDE. JAN. 5, 1841. TO M\ v LONG-LOVED AND EVER-TO-BE-REMEMBERED C. B. C. This placid lake, so gentle girl, Be emblem of thy life : As full of peace and purity, As free from storm and strife. No ripple on its tranquil breast, That dies not with the day ; No pebble in its darkest depths But quivers in its ray. And see, how every glorious form, And pageant of the skies, Reflected from its glassy face, No mirrored mirage lies. So be thy spirit ever pure, To God, to virtue given, And thought, and word, and action bear The imagery of Heaven. P. C. F. TO D. B. COWELL. She is thine ; the word is spoken ; Hand to hand, and heart to heart, Though all other ties be broken, Time these bonds will never part. Thou hast taken her in gladness From the altar's holy shrine ; Oh I remember, in her sadness She is thine, and only thine. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 35 In so fair a temple never Aught of ill can hope to come ; Good will strive, and striving ever, Make so poor a shrine its home. Each the other's love possessing, Say that care should cloud that brow ; She will be to thee a blessing, And a shield to her be thou 1 P. C. F. CONCISE JOURNAL FROM THE NUP- TIAL DAY. January 5th, 1841. Gave my hand to the Rev. D. B. Cowell. It was a scene to me solemn and affecting ; the crescent moon hung dimly shrouded in vapor, just over my mother's grave ; the guests assembled with smiling faces, stood around lavishing their good wishes. Ay, I stood a bride, where alt around was bright ; but Oh, I wept. Why should a blessed bride be sad? Ay, thick and dark were the groups of thoughts that came trooping up the mind that night. I thought of long-tried friends, that I might never meet again ; I thought of the loved resorts at my lonely hours, the parent's parting blessing they give me up forever to another. It was too much for a heart so young as mine. Oh, let me weep, I sighed, and turned away 36 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF from the cheerful throng, and sought again my loved retreat, to pour out to God my swelling soul, and wisdom seek to guide in the adven- turous, untried scenes before me. Long I plead with Heaven, until a calm unearthly ra- diance shone around, and my whole soul whis- pered, Thy will, O God, be done. Guide my youthful soul. Wednesday. The relatives of my new com- panion leave for L. Am left alone to the in- dulgence of my own thoughts and tender recol- lections. Mr. C. spends the most of the day in my society in conversation and reading. Thursday. He leaves to attend some meet- ings. Friday. I go to the Bridge to the protracted meeting interesting scene. In the evening, at home, very sad, thinking of the dear associ- ates with whom I had often met in the school- room, that I had taken leave of during the day, with the consciousness that the last day of such enjoyment was past. Although the dear friends at home sat by me, they saw not the tear, and little thought of the tenderness with which my heart was bursting as I thought of the past and the future. Shall I leave on this page a faint description of that evening? I stood by my father's kitchen window, the stars were twink- ling, the moon slowly arose above the hills, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 37 casting her Ions: shadow along the street ; the war of a distant stream came up over the hill, swelled by the recent thaw, and made a low, mournful music on the still air. Again and again I looked far down the street to see the expected return of my nearest friend, with whom my destiny was now forever linked. A little across the fields, where two mighty oaks were waving in the moonbeams, slept in a long and dreamless slumber my own dear mother. I was bidding a long adieu to my loved resort by her mouldering dust. The reflections of the past, the murmuring water, the delayed return of my friend, the glimpse at the graveyard, all combined filled my heart with feelings I may not write. Oh, that night how sad yet pleas- ant the retrospect ! Saturday. Mr C. returns, goes with me to the C. Chapel, to the conference to which I had been long united, and with w r hom I knew my meetings were now few. Had a very affecting time. Asked for a letter of dismission. Yet I feel that Christian church with whom I had been in joys and trials was dear to my heart. Many were the Heavenly sittings together I had enjoyed with them. Sabbath. Attended with Mr. C. his appoint- ment at the Burrough. The Lord was there of a truth. Praises to his name for the bliss His 38 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Heavenly presence imparts ! In the evening good meeting at South Wolfeborough. Monday spent in receiving calls and prepar- ing for leaving. Tuesday, 13th. Very much engaged made few calls. In the evening two cousins came, and spent the night. Wednesday came the parting hour. My dear and only brother came, with tears gave me his hand. With the impulse of the moment, I threw my arms about his neck, imploring him to live for God, and make sure for a meeting in Heaven, where we should never part. He left for school. In the afternoon prepared to leave. As all was ready, with heart swelled with tender and anxious emotions that I never before knew, I stole away to the spot where my mother died, fell on my knees to ask her ministering angel to hover over her inexperienced child going out into a deceitful and untried world. With deep feeling, bid adieu to home ; arrived at L. late in the evening, covered with snow that began to fall at the close of the day ; felt my almost broken heart much soothed by the kindness of my husband and his friends ; spent two weeks very pleasantly ; made some evening visits ; meanwhile attended several meetings. Tuesday, 26th, was highly rejoiced at the arrival of my dear brother L. In the evening visited Mr. Corson's. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 39 Wednesday eve meeting at Mr. Home's. My brother was once more engaged in religion ; felt thankful to hear his voice again in prayer. Oh, that the Lord might be round about him, a wall of tire, and make him a flaming herald of the cross. Thursday. My brother left for home ; soon after we took leave of friends at L. , with some tender feelings as I parted with them, and with clear, still air without and a quiet spirit within, rode as far as Rev. D. H. Lord's. Happy meeting, pleasant visit ; felt that the Lord had a dwelling in their retired home. How pleas- ant to meet and hold sweet and sympathizing converse with fellow-laborers and pilgrims on the way ! Friday, 28th. Left for Bonny Big Hills; met with a warm reception at Brother T. Cutts'. Found the church still struggling with the waves of opposition and false doctrine, still beating up the rough stream of life with faces Zionward. How cheering to the hearts of those whom God has placed as watchmen over the flock, to see the young lambs growing in strength and wis- dom, and loving and following the voice of the Shepherd ! So it was to my dear companion, as he met again with the little church with which and for which he labored long against persecution and trial. The Lord, we trust, has a garden here. 40 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Saturday, 3(M. Visited. In the evening met for prayer and conference tit the meeting hou.se lately reared where little more than twelve months ago hardly a Christian heart was found. Great is the wonder-working name of the Lord. When His breath sweeps over the desert land it will blossom as the rose and springs of living water burst forth. Before Him the hills trem- ble, the mountains melt, and thick darkness flees away. So it has been on this hill. /Sabbath, 3lst, comes with a glowing sun throwing an unusual splendor over the far- stretching prospect before us. Sweet and last- ing were the emotions of adoration and love to God awakened in our bosoms as we looked from the summit of B. B. Hill, over the white-robed landscape before us, glittering like a pearly bed in the rising sun-beams. Far to the east, at the extreme extent of our vision, the waters of the big Atlantic lay along the horizon. How soul thrilling is a considerate glance over the sublime works of nature ! With emotions of gratitude for Sabbath and sanctuary privileges, we pursued our way to the house of God, that stood like a beacon upon the high hill that over- looked the sea twelve miles distant. After a sermon from 1 Cor. chapter xi. verse 26, Mr. C. broke bread for the first time to the young church; interesting scene. Met again in the MRS. CimiSTIAXA B. COWELL. 41 evening. Sermon from John chapter iii. verse 14. The spirit of the Lord rested down upon us. Praises to His name for one more visit from the Holy One. Saturday night tarried at Squire Weymouth's. Highly interesting and pleasing family ; enjoyed the visit much ; some- what saddened, however, to see them less engaged than formerly in the work of the Lord. February 2nd. Went to Brother D. Chad- bourne's. As the day closed the clouds thick- ened fast, the winds blew fierce, and the snow began to come in large, driving flakes ; so we were obliged to abandon the idea of going to an appointment for the evening. How sweet to- night the confident reliance on One that will lead through this bleak world ! We are safely sheltered in the quiet home of a good brother, while the fierce tempest is raging without. We have naught to do but to recount the mercies of God, and give up our hearts in gratitude for home and kind friends, and the safety we feel in His Almighty arms of protection, and feel deeply anxious to be more given up to God, and reaoly in every circumstance to say, "Thy Avill be done, however it may cross my own. POLLOK." 42 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF POETRY. Though the tempest howl around us, And life's stormiest hour comes on ; Though foes and dangers thick surround us, Our hearts shall say, " Thy will be done." Though the flattering dreams of youth Expire before us, one by one, Earth bright hope is consumed by truth, Yet still we say, " Thy will be done." Though far from home and early friends, Strangers in stranger lands we roam ; Though griefs untried our bosom rends, Yet still we say, "Thy will be done." We ask not pleasure's syren whisper, We run no more for vain renown ; But guided by the Almighty finger, Only say, "Thy will be done." We look toward yon peaceful Heaven, Around the eternal spotless throne ; Wo hope to rest our weary spirits, When Thy will in us is done. Tuesday, 3d. Visited an aged pilgrim, con- fined to his room for a long time. How satis- fying to our hearts to mark the calm resignation that seemed resting on his pale, time-furrowed features ! After a few hours of religious con- versation, in which we endeavored to comfort with the promises and hopes of the Christian, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 43 we took leave, and went to spend the night at Brother Hoard's. Here we found that spirit that knits soul with soul dwelling richly in the heart of every member. Here we found an aged mother in Israel, who seemed so near the borders of the spirit-land, that she seemed to inhale its heavenly air and breathe its holy fra- grance. We love to find that humble home, Filled with followers of the Lamb, Traveling in sweetest union on Toward that promised better laud. Tis not in temples decked with gold, The Saviour loves to dwell ; Tis not in lofty sculptured walls He loves His glories to reveal. But to the humble sons of earth, He shows His smiling face ; Round the peasant's homo!}- hearth, He finds a dwelling place. Wednesday, 4th. With tears and prayers for each other's welfare, parted with the very kind family, with the lov r e of God, we trust, re- kindled in onr hearts. We rode off Bony Big Hill toward B. Ridge. The scenery although deep snow lay on the ground was wild and beautiful in the extreme. One place we passed made somewhat a pleasant yet melan- 44 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF choly impression on our mind. Near the foot of a .wild, high hill, near the border of a thick forest, far from any inhabitant stood an old mansion just tottering to its fall. In its open windows and doors the deep snow piled undis- turbed, except by the wild hare or fox that might come to claim dominion. An extraordi- nary large rock stood near the shattered house that added much to the dreary yet interesting scenery. Here, methinks, at summer's even- tide, the youth with poetic spirits fired, would come and sing of kingdoms' rise and fall ; of life's gay, pompous adventures, succeeded by desolation and waste. In this old house, they tell me, long ago the miser hoarded up his gold and taught children to think that there could not be bliss without. But to leave the old building, we entered the forest near, that was no less striking, the tallest pines I ever noticed, stretching up their lofty heads, and waving them toward heaven in praise and reverence to God. Our road lay a long way through this mystic wood, through which we passed, often exclaiming, How won- derful the works of God ! how soul elevatino- O to gaxe upon ! After emerging from the wood, the cold winds blew fearfully, filling the street and air with snow; for once I began to feel the missionary's woe a pilgrim through chilly MHS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 45 * winds and storms, yet short; ere the sun went down reached a wealthy old farmer, viz, P. Hall ; kindly received. In the evening other visitors came in, formed many new and pleasant acquaintances, somewhat entertained by the sociability of the erect, majestic looking matron of the house, who gave long minute details of her childhood's play-house, her father's counter, and change trunk, and her marketing adven- tures, &c. Promising children ; some religion. Thursday, oth. Visited Esq. H. who I imagined looked some like Jacob Fort f til, a school Domino. He seemed to be living in a heap of newspapers, politics, religion and cider. Very kindly entertained, dined, and left for J. Hall's ; found a very kind family. Mr. C. leaves me to go to L. on church busi- ness. A stranger in a strange land, yet the kindness of the family made me forget my loneliness ; spent the day in meditation, prayer, and conversation with Mrs. H., lady of the house. In the evening the children returned from school ; were all grouped round me. I tried to converse profitably with them. May kind Heaven preserve these promising ones from the snares of the world ! 46 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF AGAIN ALONE. This moon-lit night while all alone Memory is leading out her train, Far distant loved and cherished ones Speak Christiana's name again. Again I see that mother's smile As she was wont when on the earth, I hear her voice so weak, so mild, As once around home's distant hearth. O fearful thought come o'er me now, The thought that truest hearts are dead, That these cold winds of winter blow Where that faithful friend is laid. Long she's slumbered out of sight, In vain I sought that cordial love, But Oh, beyond earth's dreamy night, I hope to meet in worlds above. Now Father guard me while I sleep Maj that mother's spirit come, Her faithful vigils round me keep And tell me of her far off home. Saturday, 6th. Mr. C. returns, we call on a good sister Stillings, from there to brother Hanscom's, find here a large family, all as the heart of one man journeying onward. Two old ladies apparently about to put off dull and sickly mortality, with bright prospects of that heaven where they will bloom in eternal youth. I wept as I heard old mother Hanscom speak of the visible hand of God leading and bearing her through the world, from childhood to the grave's brink. Truly the ark of the Lord rests in this house. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 47 Sabbath, 7th. Lovely morning, most lovely ; went to meeting on B. Ridge. Sermon from Cor., chapter ii. verse 1. Dined tit J. Fernald's. Afternoon, sermon from Matt., chapter xxvi, verse 58. After services, went to very good Brother H's ; felt much depression of spirit, felt that I was not enough engaged in the work of the Lord. Oh, when will this heaviness be overpast? The billows of gloom, doubt and temptation do well nigh go over me. I would know of a truth if the pillar is going before me that will lead me to the promised land. In the evening met again ; felt more freedom of spirit ; tarried at Brother D. Feruald's. Here, too, an altar of prayer w r as erected, where went up morning and evening sacrifice. Was much amused and pleased with the benev- olent feeling of the little daughter five years of age, who was anxious to show her love to her O ~ preacher, by presenting us with a pair of hens that had been her constant and unceasing care. With tender feeling, parted, set out for home at the closing of the day ; arrived at Great Falls, spent the night with dear Mrs. Cottle ; happily entertained ; ensuing day accompanied by Mr. C. visited the shops and manufactories very happy. Afternoon, left for home a very pleasant ride. Wednesday, 10th. Rather low in spirits; 48 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF feel a heaviness coming over ray mind ; I know not why coming. I know not whence ; still feel that in Heaven is my trust. Call from Brother Davis. Thursday. Somewhat a free access to the Throne of Grace. Domestic cares engross my mind. A call from Brother Dore of Alton. Friday, 12th. Call on Mrs. B. find her very feeble. Evening, make calls. /Saturday 13th. Leave L. for North Ber- wick. Call, and receive in company Sister Lord ; took tea at Brother Hammond's ; found his health improving ; tarried at Squire Wey- mouth's. /Sabbath, l^th. With prayers for the pres- ence of the great Master of Assembles, Sister Lord arose and addressed a large assembly from Isaiah, chapter xxxv, verse 4. In the afternoon she spoke again, from Gen., chapter iv. verse 7. The spirit seemed to make power- ful the weak. She spake as one having au- thority. We trust the solemn truths from her lips sank deep. Oh, that Heaven may be round her and bear her up ! Solemn meeting in the evening. Monday, 15th. In a retired room, by a cheerful tire, while the cc-ld winds blow mourn- fully around, we sit in the peaceful enjoyment of our books, pens and paper. What unmer- MUS. CHinSTlAKA B. COWELL. 49 iled favors we daily receive! A fearful cold night. IGtA. Take an affectionate leave of Brother Cults' family; cull and dine at Brother Stephen Falls'. -Here we find ourselves with n n interesting and kind family, Was highly gratified with the narration the aged white-headed man gave of his iirst trying the blunt end of the world. My aged sire, dying, said he, left me friendless and homeless, a boy of sixteen. I was obliged to go forth into the wild unsettled world around me. I first thought I would go and lose myself in the din of war, which was then raging on the American shores. Again I thought of my youth and inexperience, and again I resolved I would try the salt sea. I stepped alioard a ship bound to the West Indies. Not many days were I on the water before we were taken by one of the Majfsly's vessels, and thrust in the prison at Halifax, though not without some hope of liberty by exchange of prisoners, as was the custom. But soon these hopes were blasted. We were unexpectedly taken, when we thought we were escaping, by a press gang and carried on board an Admiral's ship. Many were the *(.-tr> which i shed, and great bitterness of soul and pain and suffering, from cold and exposure whi<-h I endured. My feet were frozen, my .50 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF allowance small. After various servile em- ployments, cutting vessels from ice, or serving the crew, I was made skipper of the Jolly Boat belonging to one of the British vessels lying in Penobscot Bay. One- day after carrying a gen- tleman on shore, while he was engaged in business, n thought that then I might make my escape, outweighed every sense of duty, and be once more in my native woods. I plunged into the thick forest, every moment looking, expecting the foe. One moment the howling of the beast assailed, the next the roaring of the wind would start me. I would run with all my strength more than a hundred miles. I wandered towards my home. Only one framed house I entered, the man seemed stern and hard, making every possible enquiry. After hearing my story he says that aged Grandsire with whom you lived was an old familiar friend. Imagine then, says the old man, my joy to hear one kind word and feel I was with i true friend. His cold sternness softened to the tenderest kindness, they fed, clothed and cheered me, dressed the wounds of my frozen feet, and, says he, stay as long as you wish. How reviving none that was never turned on the cold world can ever tell. Soon I left, and again found myself in my native town of B. Still here I had no right, no home, though MKS. CHRISTIANA B. CO\\ KLL. 51 friends. Again I tried the sea ; earned a little at the end of the year ; after all expenses paid, had in my hand sixty crowns. With it I began the world ; entered this wilderness and made a home. Now he is surrounded with respectable children, all with an independent future. The tear stood on the old man's eye as he pave God the praise for leading him through life's rough journey, just to the grave, where soon he will lie down in peace. Sweet be the slumbers of that good old man ! At the close of the day I arrived at home. Wednesday, lltti. In very good spirits; stormy day. Thanks to kind Providence for good homes and kind friends ! Oh, the debt of gratitude I owe I can never pay. Oh, for Humility I Thursday, \8th. Very cold. Last night received a pleasant visit from Brother Mills, u young man of talent, called of God to leave all and go forth into the world ; but he is in trouble, doubting and darkness. Would there were more laborers in this holy cause 1 Frid.'tij, I'Jth. Attended funeral of old Mr. C'opp. Sermon by Elder Blaisdell. In the evening felt much anxiety for the apparent depression of D. I feel deeply rm" insuffi- ciency to till my place. Oh, for a more de- 52 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF voted, faithful heart, to bo all I should be to those around me. /Saturday, 20th. My dear D. leaves for 15; receive calls and answer letters. Evening. For once I feel that home is lonely. The sol- emn, incontrovertible truth I have so often hoard comes heavily upon me, that a preacher's wife must see many hours of grief, loneliness, and anxiety : yet my humble soul shall say, "Even so, Father." I have a bliss, a calmness of spirit that makes one welcome every trial. Grace. /Sabbath, 21st. Fine day. Heard Elder E. Blaisdell. Rather a dark time ; interest de- clining. When shall we see a rise in Zion here? Her walls are broken, her watchmen divided. My heart dies within me ; I know not what to do. Who of ns will stand the great ordeal ! who will abide the coming of the Lord ! 3fonday. Cold ; busy evening. Joyfully welcomed Mr. C. Glad to learn the Lord has been with him to bear him up. Tuesday, 23rd. Pleasant visit from dear Mrs. Cottle and Freeman. In the evening my dear father makes ns a visit with other friends. Wkdn&aday, '2th. Feel to thank Heaven for a pious father, to come to comfort and en- courage ; happy to hear him pray again. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 53 Thursday, 2oth. Good meeting in the even- ing at T. Legro's. Sermon by Father Coffin, from Malaehi 3d chapter. "And they shall be mine," &c. ; good time. Friday, 26th. Went to Milton protracted meeting; interesting scene. Sermons by Elders Meader, Coffin and Winter. Not quite wisdom enough. " They that win souls are wise." Oh, for a pure ministry ! Saturday. The snow comes thick and fast. Vnnsual enjoyment of mind, yet fear we are not enough in the valley, and looking beyond earth and its to-day happiness. Saturday evening. What have I done this swift-flown week, that is recorded for good in Heaven? How rapid whirl the wheels of time ! I am thinking, but yesterday a child, with toys and straws, to-day, passing into grave woman- hood already. Twelve weeks since I put off the airy, giddy dreams of girlhood, to give my- self forever to the sweet, quiet, domestic life. Oh, how inexperienced, young and unfit to be the wife of God's ambassador, who should bo a living example to all the world ! S'tblwth, Feb. 2$th. Attended meetings at the Ponds. Sermon by Father Coffin. After- noon, by Mr. E. Scott (colored). Meeting con- tinues on from day to day. The mighty power begins to move all through the village, and the 54 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF stout-hearted are bowing. Oh, for more power ! The rumsellers and drinkers begin to sec their wrong. Here, fifty-five years the monster in- temperance has been enthroned, enslaving and destroying its hundreds. On the eve of the fourth of March, a large body of people were crowded into the meeting-house, nearly fifty of those who were just starting for heaven were seated together, 'some speaking of the goodness of God, when very unexpectedly the only rum- seller in the place one who knew not God came to the altar and stood before the multi- tude. High beat every heart at that moment ; deliberately and decisively he renounced the long-acknowledged evil. I have taken chil- dren's bread, said he, to clothe and feed my own : I have caused misery in the extreme I know it. If it rests with me to put rum out of the place once for over fifty years, I do it. If I fail, I fail. I will sell no more rum. Amen ! Praise to God ! Thank Heaven ! ran through the house. Never did Milton experience such a joyful scene as this. Long be remembered that lovely evening, and the noblelike step of the young trader. Next day, might be seen groups of happy men again enter the store so long passed, and aiding in rolling from out the hoard the dismal casks. The Rev. Mr. Willey was so happy he shouted for joy, giving every MHS. CHRISTIANA K. COWELL. 50 one's hand a hearty shako of congratulation. A day of rejoicing. Truly at lust the countless prayers of God's people here are heard. Sing, O earth, Heaven and all therein take up the joyful strain ! Measures were taken by con- federacy of the people to prevent any spirit being sold within the place. Light is spread- ing ; men reforming ; grace abounding ; hope reviving; the poor rejoicing; God victorious, inarching through the desert waste, where the slain, the wrecked and cast oft' are many. The prospect is soul-cheering. As others leave, Mr. C. becomes the chief laborer. Twenty or more already converted, twenty-live or thirty anxious. Friday, bth. Feel discharged for awhile ; notwithstanding much persuasion to stay ; feel duty to go home. Oh, for humility and wis- dom pleasant without and peaceful within. Sabbath morning. presents a drear}' prospect. The snow lies in deep piles around us, the winds blowing drearily, the doors are closed, the world all shut out loved and long-desired ' seclusion. To-day a scene of unusual interest and melancholy pleasure. Despite our efforts to stay our thoughts in Heaven, they did go out far back over the swift-flown years of ear- lier life. Of home, of friends, of the happy years of pupilship, I thought, till the pang of 56 LIFE AXD WRITINGS OF half joy, half woe, was deeply twanging this heart's fine chords, Heaven, I trust, has thus far directed my steps. I feel that it will. 1 will not wish for their return. Though more sober and dreariless ray path, if it but lead to the flowery plains ot the spirit world, I journey gladly on. One star forever fixed, I have one friend forever mine, I trust. A world of charms, a multitude of flattering summer friends exchanged for one who knows no alienation by affliction, grows more faithful, is gain incal- culable. Sabbath evening, how solemn ! Monday. Received a call from Brother Mills. Tuesday evening, met with a large social circle at neighbor It's. Very interesting ; made much more so by the presence, talent and good spirits of old Elder John Bu/zel, who has been a watchman on Zion's walls for more than fifty years. Prayers and singing pleasant. Wednesday, $th. Set oar faces for the first time towards home, my own dear home. Called at Middleton. Clamorous voices, red eyes, ragged, rude boys were too true symptoms of the character of the place. Oh, when will the the heavy clouds of moral darkness be lifted off our land ! Riding a short distance,, by the way- side, on a bank of snow, lay a cluster of empty rum-jugs. Whence and what are ye, fearful things? To how many a dying heart have ye MKS. CHRISTIANA B. OOWELL. 57 borne the last drug of bitterness ! To how many a thorny pillow have ye borne the last prick, .sharp and piercing, that would be set there ! And where are those whose loved bur- den ye were ? Ay, it may be that thy fellowship with man is broken ; that he has found the poisoned drug that the sparkling treasure hides, and flung thee to the snows and winds. Happy the man ! Here may ye crumble ! Here may blast after blast sweep over the desolate bottle. We trust they alone will kiss thy lip, and thy former companions bid good-bye to rum-bottles thrown on a snow bank. Ere the sun slides down the sky, am folded in the arms of my loved kindred. How thrill- ing, as I retire again to my long empty cham- ber, the sensation awakened. Here by my window, many a long summer evening alone I sat, with wrapt soul, gazing on the splendid scenery of the fragrant moon-li earth and be- spangled heavens. Then a thought of parting days, of going a stranger in the wide world, of bearing with a laborer in Christ's vineyard the burden in the heat of the day, which never had ruffled the calm of my young bosom. I low sweet these hours of contemplation, when to me earth and heaven met ; and as I looked out into the clear blue vault, my charmed mind would catch the music of the celestial spheres, would pene- 3* 58 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF trate the srauze that covered Heaven's host, and O behold the myriads with their golden harps, moving in marshal lines along the ethereal plain ! What thought I then of earth, of names, of beauty's charms, of passion's flame, of pleas- ure's witching wiles ? All to me were idle tales. I could not bear that aught of earth should come and steal away a moment of such holy was it? aye, it was spell-bound musings. Angels, methonght, did visit me ! And though my heart is filled, my eyes swimming in tears, at these remembrances, I would not go back the tide of life and live those scenes again. It is not always to live in fancy's flowery world, to feel the heart grow sick of scenes that charm the world, and turn from social beings to live in worlds of our creation. No! Let me go with prayerful, holy heart, to bear a balm to some lone child of sorrow ! Let me pursue the plain, sober path of cTuty, to God and man, and seek rather to enjoy life because I make it useful, than to scorn it because it has not room for my swelling imaginations ; and learn, rather than wish life closed, I should prize each moment, because I may be doing and getting good, that I might really enter the world where fancy loves to wander and gaze with eye undimmed on the rich glories I had imagined. Oh, for a meek and quiet spirit to suffer with Christ on MRS. CHRISTIANA B. OOWELL. 59 earth, that I might reign with him in Heaven ! But stop, my pen. /Saturday, l"2th. Fearful storm all clay. Evening rather sad and lonely. The rattling winds make doleful music to a lonely heart. /Sabbath, 13th. Feel some sinking into the kind arms of my Heavenly Father ; desire, more than riches, honor, love or beauty, to feel myself approved unto God. What sacrifice shall I make, what course shall I bend my feelings and thoughts, to attain to that state of calm, unshaken confidence in God, and an assurance of my acceptance with Him? How unusually empty and cheerless the world looks to-day ! I feel less like seeking the favor of man than God. Oh, for a thorough purifying of soul, for a moulding into the image of Christ ! His I would be. REMEMBERED IDEAS FROM ABBOT. Read to-day Mr. Abbot's "Young Christian." Some ideas gathered, viz; That we should make every event, trial especially, a means of testing and improving our moral character. A man launching a new-made steam-boat would be constantly viewing and correcting the ma- chinery make more safe the engine, and assuring himself that all is well ; white an- (Id LIFE AND WRITINGS OF other might seat him on deck, enjoy a .line sail, and the admiration and applause of his splendid boat from the beholders on shore, while the new machinery may be deficient, and an ex- plosion ensue, the vanity-swollen man and his fine boat be stove in pieces. Thus man, as he passes along the tide of life, may live ever down at the main spring of action, at the bottom of the l>oat, and mark well how every gale and tide of life affects the operation of the intellectual and moral machinery ; and thus make sure ground work for a correct character and pleasing deportment. Again, he may strive for fine appearance, the applause of the world; while the principle, the internal machinery, grows discordant and unable at last to bear up and carry along steadily the heavy sails and top work. A great and humbling downfall is the result of neglect of the heart. Again, we cannot call up feelings by direct effort, but it is 'discipline of mind and consider- ation which enables us to gain a desired frame of mind. Importance of reading slow and care- fully, satisfaction of journal writing, &c. Sabbath evening. Mr. C. attends meeting at South Village. Monday, Ikth. Reading and conversation with the family ; much enjoyment of kindred association. MRS. CinnsTIAXA B. COWELL. <>1 l~>f/i. Went again to the protracted meet- ing: more interesting than usual. Thursday, \Qth. Realize another parting with friends at home, especially in leaving my dear sister C. alone. I bid adieu to scenes so long so familiar and dear, and go to a home among strangers. Yet I have a friend to soothe and teach me to turn my thoughts from earthly deprivation to the full fruition of hope, to the joyful reward for self-denial and labor on earth, in the expected land of rest the home for all God's people. Sabbath, 19th. Go to the house of God; come home sad and sorrowful at heart. How long, O Lord, wilt them forget us? when will our warfare be accomplished? when will Zion's oppressors be removed, and the sweet voice of the Shepherd call the scattered flock together. Evening, feel to cast all on the blessed Friend of man, that he will work all things for our good. How sweet to pray to God, to bow in humble obedience and reverence before His throne, and send up our souls through the stilly air of night far above earth's jars and turmoils ! Yes, we can awhile forget, and love and wor- ship God alone. 1 am spared to begin another week. I want wisdom to conduct my inexperienced feet. Oh, what a useless, inexperienced being I feel G2 LIFE AND WRITING* OF myself! In Heaven is my trust, and from thence I expect direction. Thine, I am, 1113^ God. Tuesday, 22nd. Happy child am I ! A bright sunny sky over my head, pleasant scenes and friends around me. How . undeserving ! Sabbath has again come. Oh, that I could go and sit under the holy droppings of the sanc- tuary, and feel that it was sweet to my taste, where every heart beat in unison in the holy breathings which such a day should call. But Oh, there is a fearful wrong my heart is pained. I know not Avhat to do. Scores that are well fitted to constitute the house of God are lying dormant and useless. To-day many that might till the house of God, and enjoy a heavenly sitting together, and feel their hearts as the heart of one man lying upon the altar of God, are hovering round their own firesides, or wandering heedless over their lands, their utility to the world unknown, their noble powers of mind sinking, the tide of divine knowledge rolling back, dammed up by im- passible, immovable clogs of superstition ; and may I not suppose it self-righteousness ? Why this woeful desolation in this moral vicinity? The house of God is not pure. The leaders of the flock are strolling in the woods of ignorance, and sipping at the streams of self-will, turning MRS. CHRIST! XXA 15. COWELL. G3 to catch the breezes of public applause. Is it thus ? The flocks have ceased to come at the powerless, monotonous call of the shepherd, are scattered on every hill, seeking other pas- tures, where are streams that never dry and water that will ever refresh. Well, what does all of this writing mean? Am I wrong in my ideas ? Monday. Reading J. W. Xevens' Biblical Antiquities. Find it pleasing in being borne in mind to the once glorious regions of Pales- tine, to stand beneath its lofty, verdant moun- tains ; its flourishing vineyards ; its weeping valleys, flowing with oil .and wine ; to stand again in its deep caverns by nature formed, where our Savious at times rested his weary head or turned away to pour out his sorrows before his Father. Again I hear the mighty rushing of waters, as the melting snows come from the mountains, and soon tind them gurg- ling streams at the feet. I gaze in thought on the streams, the mountains, the waves and deserts, where the man of sorrow wandered, the hill from which he ascended, and lost in distance, rising still, goes away from his scenes of trial to the long distant home of his Father, and feel my soul gathering new incentives to the prosecution of the holy yet self-crossing journey that leads to the same happy regions, 64 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF of which the matchless Canaan is but the faint- est emblem. 31s. Temperance lecture by Elder T. Stevens. Ihursday. Lowering sky, thick coming snow. Oh, how melancholy ! The winds moan like a funeral dirge. It seems as though they continually whisper, All is passing away ; empty and transient is the svorld's enjoyment. Begin to think the voice of perishing souls is calling away from the long, quiet retreat of home to bear a living balm to the lost and dying. Feel that we can go forth, weeping over the fallen, and praying for the saving, all-powerful spirit of God to go with us and direct our path. How can we mid rest and happiness, when the solemn thought is continually coming in upon us, that souls are going into the eternal world that we might be instrumental in leading to the Lamb of God and a sweet home in heaven ! Surely we count not our life dear unto us. The pleasures of home grow gloomy, the voice of friendship strikes heavy, we hear only the solemn mandate, " Go ye out, and compel them to come in." Haste to shelter 'neath mercy's canopy, 'ere the swift-coming storm is driven on the earth r that shall try men's souls and crush the unsanctiticd in heart. Will heaven direct ! MIIS. CHRISTIANA H. COWELL. DD May commence a female j)rayer meeting. Full attendance, and refreshing time. Feel unh't to be among saints, praying for humility. Next meeting at my home. Deep, solemn, satisfying season. '2(]tk. Attend the Xe\v Durham Quarterly Meeting at Farmington. Extract of a letter dated Wolfeboro', April 20, 1843: DEAR HTSBAXD, I was truly rejoiced to receive a letter from one in whom my earthly hopes of happiness are centered. The time since you left, seems long, very long, and I was he- coming impatient to hear from 3*011. as the traveling forbade all hope of mv seeinir vou at 1 - O / present. Our little A. is constantly entwining herself into the tender feelings of my heart, she is so pleasant and playfuK I hope to hold her in the right place in my affections. O, D. I should like to be with 3*011. My heart thrills with emotion when I call to mind the pleasant hours I have spent in 3*0111- society. You can now realize some of the lonelii; have experienced when left alone. Had I known that 3*011 were to sta\- there, I should have been unwilling to have 3-011 go without me. fif) LIFE AND WRITINGS OF I watch the melting snow with impatient anx- iety. Not that I don't enjoy myself here; everything has gone pleasantly here, and my friends try to make me happy. I never was more rejoiced, I think, at .the appearance of spring. The grass already begins to start around the door. True, it may be the last spring that will open upon us. If so, we have a hope of seeing a land where there is no night. I do not feel so much engaged as I want to be. I hope you pray for me. When on the humble knee I silently am bending, My ardent prayer for tliee To heaven is ascending. Your affectionate C. B. COWELL. April. Loud thunder bright light. /Sabbath. Heard good preaching from Elder D. Blaisdell. Monday. Visited Mrs. .Dr. Jones; a de- lightful visit. Find good-nature, pleasing grace and a good degree of intelligence dwell- ing there. To-day nature looks gray and barren, the naked earth rough and dried up. But I shall not sink into the low brood in^s, for rs " I know summer is nigh. AVelcome, thrice welcome to the opening spring ! MRS. CITinSTTANA R. POWELL. H7 Come thou soft and dewy spring, With nil thy freshness come ; Thy laurels and thy music bring From thy tar-off south sea home. Come with thy mild and balmy air, Thy robes of ireshest green ; We long to roam in wild woods where Thy breath find step have been. We long to feel the soft winds blow, And the modest wild flowers bloom, Where the streams in plaintive murmurs flows, And the birds with sonnets-come. Sabbdth. Sermon from Elder E. Blaisdell in the forenoon ; husband in the afternoon from Solomon's Songs, chapters 4 and 5. Evening, he goes out alone, with feeble health, through snow and water, to meet with a Christian band two miles distant. Oh, that he might forever have given him the true and everlasting gospel to preach to the perishing world ! Sermons by Revs. Messrs. Hart, Pink- ham, Cilley and Buzzel. Rev. H. Stevens we tind very feeble. 20lh. While interceding with God, begin to feel my troubled heart sink to rest, and my tearful eye turned heavenward with hope of a long happy home there. Afternoon, went on a pleasant hill, at the house of a good sister living all alone, with a number of dear sisters," to have our prayer meeting. Pleasant, happy time. ;,S LIFE AND WHITINGS OF Friday. With joyous spirits, far beyond merit, ^o to Berwick. Pleasant conference on * O the Ridge. Been very low since we left. Bat some awakening and happy feelings. Hope they will rise and shine. Why am I thus favored with the dear friend of my bosom to visit from place to place, and meet with, and try to encourage, the children of God? We are truly happy in the enjoyment of these precious privileges. June 1st, tiabbcith. Attend meeting on Bonny Big. Monday. Part with our very good Brother Butler and wife. Spend the day in visiting. Tuesday, 3rd. Arrive at Rev. Brother McKenney's at Lyman, to attend the Water- borough Quarterly Meeting. What strange heaviness comes over my mind to-day ! How much, alas, like the restless tide are my feel- ings ! I am now solemnly impressed with the emptiness of earth, and serious fears about my eternal all. I cannot rest on anything of earth. In the all-redeeming Saviour I try to trust. My prayers float around and ring b;>.ck about my head with no power to ascend. I would fain come to God, but Oh, this thick hedge! Shall we not see God's power come down here? Is not this darkness a harbinger of dawn ? I trust it may be so. M1JS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 69 X Wednesday* Preaching by Elder Davis. No move. Thursday morning. Begin to penetr:ite the gloom ; feel to labor. Twenty arise for pray- ers ; might}' move for an hour. Sermons by Elders Davis and Small. Hard time; a cloud shuts down heavy and dark. Close with a Com- munion. Servants of God leave. We are still saying, O Lord, hast thon anything more for us to do? Open the way. Feel like staying with Brother McKenney and wife. Unite in crying mightily to God for power. Spend a long time in earnest pleading with God. Trembling and fearful, we go out to visit from house to house, husband and our good brother one way, my- self and his companion another. We met with sinners with bursting hearts and weeping eyes. We tried to talk, pray and weep with them. God have the glory for the happy success that crowned the feeble efforts I At noon met again with our husbands, who were praising God. Not only had they seen conviction fastening, but in a cottage among the bushes they heard the convert's happy song, and others still earn- estly seeking God. Every vale and hill, yea, the very wind around, seems to be mourning in sympathy with the sin-burdened souls. Oh, that the work may grow deeper and deeper in every heart ! I would obey the mandate of my God. 70 LIFE AND WJtITlXGS OF Satin-day, July 17M. Start for Bsirnstoad. Pleasant ride ; dine at Widow Berry's Found the daughter-in-law deeply anxious about her soul. Spend the night at good Brother Mc- Xeal's, a wealthy farmer. Sabbath morning. Hide to the Centre, to husband's appointment. He spoke from Joel. Seemed to fee something in the way. After- noon, from Isaiah, xxxv. 4. Good freedom. Call on ti bereaved husband and motherless chil- dren. Felt much sympathy. Spend the night at Brother D. Eaton's a low, romantic vale, watered by a large stream, winding among the hills. Tuesday. With Brother E. and wife, go to an appointment at G. Edgerly's. Heavenly season ; a sweet visit from our Master. He gives his servants, now and then, a foretaste of rich treasures in store for them. Pleasant visit at T. Chesley's, by the shore of a beautiful pond. We wander with delight on its sunny banks, so far retired from the hum of busy men, so still and happy. We felt that domestic bliss might be unmuliled there. Afternoon meeting at L. French's. Good season. 2M. Visit Brother Eaton. Extremely sul- try. Very kindly entertained. Find him much depressed on account of the low state of Zion. Trust the Lord will hear his prayers. runs. cm;i>TiANA u. COWKLL. 71 "24th. Very pleasant ride to Stratford, to D. Leighton's. Much :iffectod as we pass field after field, to see them scorching 'neath the sultry heavens. Xo rain for several months. The streamlets cen.se, the fountains dry, The blasting winds sweep o'er the plain ; The heated earth, the brassy sky No cooling moisture yields. Wrath is Waxing in the heavens, And vengeance on the hills. What fearful sin, yet unforgiven, Our guilty nation feels ! "2')tk. At S. Berry's; interesting meeting. '!('> I h. Met at the school house. A very solemn, weeping season. The spirit of the un- seen God was felt. Spent the night with Elder David Garland. Very good family. 21th. Start for home, much depressed in spirit. Our spiritual pilgrimage looked dark, a portentous gloom, increasing, with now and then a respite, for several weeks. The Lord our only stalF when earthly prospects fade. We felt that though in trials, we were sharers in each other's joys and sorrows. Hope for deeper-toned piety. Angn ft, 1th. Arrive late in the evening at Father Coffin's, in Wolfeborough. Met there with our dear friend, young preacher Brother Brooks. Was happy to meet again my dear 72 LIFE AND WRITINGS OP sister, returned from Hartford after an absence of two years. Sabbath, 8th. Met at the Mill neighborhood. There was a sound of abundance of rain. Hus- baiut spoke from Joel iii. 14. Multitudes, &c. 1st. The valley of decision the probationary state in this world. 2d. The points to be decided, viz., eternal bliss or eternal woe; the import- ance of decision in all the pursuits of life. 3d. The great consequences attending the decision we make. 4th. The last and great day of the Lord's decision, when all must reap the fruits of their own decision. Good season. Tuesday. Visited the Borough. Spent the night at D. Firbur's. Martha, a young friend of mine, shared largely in our interest and sym- pathies ; long strove against the convictions of God's Spirit ; now left in a very feeble state of health, and but little power or disposition to seek salvation. Wednesday. After several calls, met at the school-house. Sermon from Habakuk iii. 20. 1st Negatively. In what the Lord was not to revive his work, viz., the vast work of creation. 2d. What is the work to be revived ? Regen- eration in the heart. 3d. The duty of Chris- tians as co-workers, and the happy completion. Afternoon, from Numbers x. 29. We are jour- neying unto the, &c. Ml;>, CliKlMlA-SA B. COWELL. . CHRISTIANA 15. OOWKLL. 79 I am a Christian. Took a very affectionate leave of our friends, who had so kindly received us. Rode to Brother Eaton's. 28th. Attended meeting on Beauty hill. Met with Elder Bobbins and wife ; had a very pleasant interview with them. Preaching by husband and Elder Robbins. Brother Bobbins preached from Hosea. What will you do, in the solemn day? Touching and eloquent ap- peals. In the evening a very pleasant meeting. Mr. C. spoke from Psalms, Thy word is set- tled in Heaven. 25th. Pleasant morning ; spent the day in visiting, reading and meditation. 29th. Our long anticipated meeting com- menced at the Centre ; prospect rather dark at first, but few came in. We were disappointed in the help of preaching brethren no one came, but there wa-s wrestling in prayer. Af- ternoon, glad to find Elder S. Coffin had arrived. Mr. C. spoke from "Fear not him who can kill, &c. ; " entreaty to arise and go forth to battle, which appeared was not in vain. The divine spirit seemed to have a free move ; some that had been very low came out of their hiding places. In the evening Father Coffin preached. tiufHi'dtiy, '3()th. Elder E. -Place came; preached in the forenoon ; in the afternoon 80 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF father Coffin was rather solemn. Evening 1 there seemed to be unusual solemnity during the first of the evening, jet the ever-present spirit of Evil held a contest ; not much victory gained ; increasing weight. Sabbath, Zlst. In the forenoon Elder Bob- bins spoke to a large assembly of people from Deuteronomy "My doctrine shall drop as the rain, &c." In the afternoon Mr. C. came tremb- ling and burdened before the people, and spoke with unusual freedom from Revelation, chapter in. verse 18 "I counsel thee to buy of me gold, tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich, &c." He showed the poverty and nakedness of sinners, also of professors without the vital religion, exemplified by gold, as being the most durable, precious and bright ; the various things we grasp to supply the place of gold when want- ing, viz : false doctrines, worldly fame and gain, prejudice in the church, &e. Truly the Lord was present to help, and we hope good was done that day. Monday, November, 2nd. Mr. C. was very much exhausted with labor of the day previous. 3rd. Very good meeting at the Centre. Elder Bobbins preached twice with eloquence and feeling ; some came forward for prayers ; one gave strong evidence of conversion, and several revived. All.'S. CIMMSTIANA il. COWKLL. 81 4th. Conference meeting at the Locke neighborhood ; very good time. Meeting in the evening. 5th. Meeting at the Centre. Sermon by Eider D. P. Cilley ; good season. Monthly meeting at Dennett's ; evening at the Nutter school-house. I am alone to-night, To hear the drear winds blow ; My thoughts are on the past, When wo no sorrow knew ; I think of my poor heart, So lost in sin and guilt, And one to plead my cause Whose blood for me was spilt. He alone can save Onr spirits from distress, And bear ns o'er life's wave To lands of holiness. /Saturday evening. The meeting was veiy. solemn ; several came forward. Mr. C. spoke from Psalms "After so long a time as to- day, & c . Sabbath, Qth. Met again at the Centre. Forenoon sermon by Elder Garland. After- noon by Mr. C., from Matt, chapter vii. verses 2(i and 27 "Every one that heareth these sayings and doeth them not, &c.," more espe- cially, "and it fell and great was the fall of it." The place was awful on account of the presence 4* 82 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF of God. 1st, the sayings of Christ not hard to do ; 2d, the false foundations on which those build who do not choose Christ ; finally, the great and final fall of all. earthly fabrics. Had good liberty. Good meeting in the evening ; two young men came forward; still there is a slow and heavy move of the work ; so many dormant professors that the car was burdened and would not overtake the sinner. Monday evening. Meeting at L. French's ; snow storm, weather inclement. Tuesday, 8th. Visited Mr. Nutter's ; found a very pleasant family ; meeting at the school house in the evening. Text, If the righteous scarcely are saved, &c. Several arose for prayers, two of whom were the daughters of Brother Nutter, on whom we called. After re- turning to his house we all bowed down to- gether to pray ; the unconverted daughters prayed, after Avhich they felt calm. The ensu- ing morning found them happy in the love of Christ. Mr. C. and Brother Nutter spent the forenoon in visiting. During their absence I endeavored to' encourage and pray with the young ladies, and had the happiness of hearing them join in prayer. Happy season, I trust long to be remembered. Spent the remainder of the week with Brother Eaton's and Brother French's families. CHRISTIANA B. COW ELL. 83 Sabbath, 13f./t. Attended meeting at Beauty Hill. Mr. C. spoke from Proverbs Because I have called and ye have refused, &c. Very weeping season. Meeting in the evening, very precious season, very happy meeting. Previous to the meeting felt a very saddening conviction of my lack of holiness and my slothfulness in the cause. Retired to thfe grove ; found access to the Saviour ; had a very sweet union with Him for several hours. I felt that my soul would fain fly to His embrace ; more real heav- enly communion than I had enjoyed for years. He blessed the meeting with His presence. 14//A. Took an affectionate leave of the kind family, parted with dear friends in tears ; felt to weep that no more had been done. Started for home after an absence of four weeks. Spend the night at W. Berry's. Another family residing in the same house, viz., Dr. G., the soothing and animating influence of whose amiable companion, I gratefully felt. In the person of W. Berry I find true firmness and nobleness of principle, affable and affec- tionate feelings. In his companion, true womanly tenderness and benevolence ; and a good daughter. Wednesday.' Arrive at home, find our friends well. Happy to come home and rest the anxious mind and wearv body. 84 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Sabbath. Very solemn weepi ng. Meet- ing at Lebanon. 26th. My mind for several days has been turned from every earthly enjoyment. But to-day find there are influences on earth that can hold a charm on the mind. Husband has been to the funeral of old Squire Wentworth ; during his absence I 'bury myself in prepara- tion for the usual festivities of Thanksgiving- day. I am permitted to attend at the board, loaded with the rich gifts of heaven, and see it surrounded with the happy connections of my dear companion ; at the head of the table sit his honored parents who have seen sevent} r - tive Thanksgiving days, and still live to wel- come home the circle, long scattered abroad. They toiled through many a summer's heat, and winter's cold, to bring them into respecta- ble and prosperous circles of life. Happy indeed to see and enjoy them again, though thoughts of one sleeping little from us on the hill, of one swallowed up in the waves of the sea, of another twenty-one years absent from home, of whom they had no intelligence, em- bitter their cup of joy. I read much in the tear that stole from our mother's eye as she looked upon her surviving children. My imagination heard her saying, once I used to see you all around me, once I could go and see you all MKS. OTIKISTI ANA B. COWELL. *~> safe on your pillows, and ask God's blessing upon you. But some that used to cheer us, and come around the table, have gone through suffering, sorrows and death. I yet live to think of them. One, I know not whether he lives or not. O time, what a change thon hast wrought ! Here we are, perhaps never to come together again all of us. Such a day is pleas- ant, and calculated to awaken numberless asso- ciations, bitter or sweet. To me it brings the sunset hour, when my mother, at my father's table, said she should never spend another Thanksgiving with us on earth, and so it was. The next autumn winds swept over her grave. But in the bosom of a companion I can bury my grief, and feel that I am still blest of heaven. 27th. I have spent this day as I never spent a day before my mind calm as summer sunset. The sweetest genius of domestic bliss has hung around me all day. I feel as though I was the happiest of the happy. To heaven I lift my grateful eye and bless the day that gave me birth. 28th. Solemn meeting. Preaching by Mr. C ; good liberty. Good meeting in the even- ing. 29M. Hoary winter comes again, with war and driving snow, and we are glad to nestle in around our tire while it ra fires without. 86 LIFE AXD WRITINGS OF And must the summer pass So quick, so fast away, Ami autumn, with its yellow dress, Come to sing its farewell lay ? It was but a few days since we sang A welcome to the spring ; Now Spring, Summer, Autumn 'gone, And Winter now is ushering in. Oh, rapid time, how quick thy flight ! And thou art rolling us along, To hurl us into endless night, Or bear us to the land of song. Dec. 1st. My husband is wading through very dark trials of mind nights of pain and days of sorrow. At night I wake only to hear him pray, O Lord, what shall I do? Again the demons of infidelity and false doctrine roll in and bear his soul away. My ardent prayer that he may, by the strength of that God that will never forsake those that trust in Him, yet come out like gold tried in the fire, more fit than ever before to venture out on the sacred heraldry of the gospel. Fit me, I cry, O Lord, to stand by him, a companion indeed, that may share and mitigate the ills of life. " No matter what we suffer, if we but reach the shore." If by trials and darkness we are more fitted to do good in the glorious cause of Christ, welcome every pain. If from God it is rich blessings. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 87 2nd. Attend our female prayer meeting; felt much labor and distress of soul ; wept profusely. 3rd. Mr. C. came into the house praising God ; seemed to have dropped every burden, and his free soul soared away to God ; he enjoyed for hours sweet intercourse with Heaven ; he could say with the poet " He takes my soul ere I'm aware And shows me where his dwellings are." We feel that the Lord has not forsaken us, though the path of duty is yet dark. 4th. Cold and chilly Sabbath. 6th. Attended a funeral of the sou of F. Dixon. Sweet the hope that bears the mourner up. Oh, the deep mysterious love and wisdom of God ! 'Tis but a glance I sometimes have, and my soul is overawed. How blind have I been to the blessings designed by heaven in the marriage institution, when kindred minds unite in holy union, delighting in each other's joy, and feeling every pain. Oh matchless, wondrous love, my pen cannot describe. 1th. Husband has gone to Great Falls to settle his business affairs, where for many years he toiled with deeply anxious mind, to prepare a home for future happiness. For awhile he prospered well. The winds wafted wealth 88 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF and honor around him, and hard his ambitions mind clung to his promising business ; but the voice of the Lord was calling him away. A little longer, he said, until he felt that God's displeasure would be kindled against him. Hard as it was to his acquisitive ambition he gave up all to go and preach to a dying world the everlasting gospel. May the Lord go before him is my prayer, keep his feet from falling, and be his shield in battle. $th. This afternoon the dear band of sisters have come in to sit and pray and commune with each other and with God. Heavenly season. We felt that the Lord would come and answer the prayers that have been going up during the last summer. It is safe to trust in God. I sit alone in the parlor ruminating on past scenes, on the rich blessing I have, and stijl enjoy. Arc not thy mercies large and free, May not a sinner trust in thee ? Thoughts of my husband come over me continually ; sweet and yet a deep ,emotion of happiness unearthly, mingled with a solemn sadness, when I think that I must give him up in my heart all to the Lord, to go from his home and leave his fireside lonely, to labor in the great field all white before him ; we know Mi:s. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 89 not where his guiding finder next may point, all I ask is to be so near the Lord that we may know his will. O, Lord we wait thy solemn call, Though poor, impure and frail, But for thy sake we give up all And to thy breath we hoist thy sail : Help us the Heavenward course to kec-p While tossing o'er life's boisterous deep. Dec. 31st. It is the last night of the year ; how rapidly has time rolled away ; one year ago this evening I was in the prayer meeting in my father's neighborhood in all the thoughtless ignorance of girlhood. Well do I remember that last prayer meeting. To-night in my chamber I can enjoy the society of one of the best of men, and look back on the great changes, j<>y> and sorrows, which the last year has brought us. Some scenes look sad : but I mark in all my path, ignorance of the world, and inexpe- rience in my situation. I fear I have been in the way of my husband that he has seen no more reformation. Oh, shall I spend another year so slothfully as I have this. I have often tried to know and till my place but many times I see the pride of my heart has led me astray, and I have come short. Oh, for a forgiveness of every past folly, and grace to begin the new year with more adroitness in duty. ){) LIFE AND WRITINGS OF 1842, Jan. 5th. --Very pleasant, though mingled reflections to-day, as it is the anniver- sary of our marriage. Swift twelve short months have rolled away, and presented me with much means for doing good, but how little have I done. Jan. 9th. Lovely Sabbath. Mr. C. has an appointment at J. Fernald's, but unable to attend very sick not able to sit up. Shall spend the months of January and February at home on account of bad traveling. Spend some time in study and review of Latin. Our minds at times are weighed down with sorrow, believ- ing still in Jehovah and that he has a work for us in this place. Feb. 6th. A very powerful meeting at J. Corsou's. I3th. at D. Goodwin's Mr. C. preached on faith ; found there was strong faith with some praying Hannahs ; the Lord is coming ; some heavenly movings in my own heart, but so much unlikeness to God I can hardly hope to be used as an instrument of good. Oh, that this open- ing spring might witness the opening of the prison doors of my mind and all God's pro- fessed children ; for truly the burdens are grievous to be borne, which coldness, death and sin has thrown upon us. 18th. Good sermon by Elder D. Blaisdell ; MIIS. CHRISTIANA H. COWELL. 91 it seemed to be sent of God to the people. I feel weighed down under sin. If he takes my sins away, I shall surely love him. In the evening Mr. C. has a meeting at J. Corson's. I remained at home. After my companion was gone, I Avrapped about me my cloak and wandered forth in the dusky, bare fields to meditate on myself and God. Here am 1, a worm on this little earth which is soon to be burned. All these hills and plains that now calmly spread beneath a cold, cloudy sky, arc to melt and pass away; yonder heavens will pass away, and all is to change when it shall please the Almighty, according to his word ; a change of which man can have no conception. A few days more arc we to act as probationers to eternity with all of its awful realities. My heart sinks with fear, a moment, as I think of the strict account I must surely give, and the sinful, proud and blind heart I have had in the sight of Heaven; but amid all my doubts and gloom there is a secret striving in my heart I cannot describe, a something that clings around the throne of God. Is it not faith? I can hear a secret whisper "look and live ; come unto me all ye who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." I feel 92 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF that I would give up all my earthly hopes and spend my days in want and toil, if I can have the clear evidence that my name is written in the Lamb's book of life. Come Lord Jesus come quickly, my soul waiteth for thee. March 18th. Went to our female prayer meeting, still sighing and struggling at heart ; there I sat and felt that I could weep my life away if it could atone and I could live in Heaven. I looked on my companion as he talked of the prospect beyond the stormy banks of Jordan. O dear servant of God, I thought, there is a land of rest from all your weary toils ; but I have been slothful and worse than idle ; I fear I shall never meet you there. I ventured out on the mercies of God and He came to my relief. I can say to the honor of God I tasted for a while the joys of the upper world, my soul dropped her burden and rose almost to heaven, where I hope ere long to dwell; but oh, so unworthy am I. /Sabbath eve. Powerful meeting at J. Cor- son's ; there is a sound of an abundance of rain again heard as in the female prayer meeting. Zion groaned. Sermon from Matthew, chapter iii. verse 3. The voice of one crying in the wilderness. 2'2nd. Started on foot and wandered in a storm over hills and vales until we came to a MRS. CHRISTIANA 15. COWELL, 93 lovely retired dwelling of J. Gerrish's, to an appointment, Here husband) over seven years ago, first felt the word roll upon his son!, leave all and go forth into the world to preach my word. Here he spent two winters hoarding in the family while teaching their school, Such changes by death and sad recollections came into his mind that he was overwhelmed. A brother Jones with whom he had often rejoiced and wept had gone home, whom he used to see there. Years had rolled away, yet through disappointments, sorrows, and some joys, he had been brought to meet the kind friends again. My feelings, as well as his, cannot be described. 23i-d Met with the second female prayer meeting, one that had branched out from the tirst at S. Dixon's. A heavenly season indeed. We felt for awhile completely unshackled from the world and ready for the work of God. I drank again from the pure fountain and it was sweeter than the honey or the honeycomb. In the evening met with Parson Loring at the Gerrish school house. Mr. C. believed there was a work for him in this place, and would have tarried over the Sabbath but had an ap- pointment at Mr. Durrell's in another part of the town. . Cold, snowy morning. Rode to the 94 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF appointment, although the cloud seemed hang- in^ over the Gerrish school house. Forenoon O sermon, "Consider what great things he has done for you." Afternoon, from Hebrews, chapter i. Dined at Brother J. Fernald's, felt burdened and bound. Very solemn meeting in the evening. Thought that the cloud of mercy would soon come here. Spent the night with this family. Sister Fernald prayed, which brought much relief. Monday. Came home, but in great trial. Feb. th. Female meeting at Dr. Jones'. The number, which had been reduced to a very few, now filled the room. In the evening at J. Corson's. Sermon by husband from Jonah ii. 8-9. I will sacrifice unto the Lord, &c. At this meeting a young man came after hus- band to meet with some Congregational breth- ren at the Gerrish school house, for a protracted meeting. I went to the female meeting, from thence through the bad walking to the school house. Found the Lord was there of a truth. Saints were awakened, and sinners were weighed down under a sense of sin. $th. Met again, the weather beaming fail- after a storm. Conviction still deepening and several arose for prayers ; most of the preach- ing by a young Brother Moody, a student, who seemed deeply engaged. Spent the night at MRS. C1IKISTIAXA 15. fOWELL. 95 I. Hodsdon's; a very pleasant family. During the night some snow had fid fen which we walked through three quarter* of a mile to meet again. To-day husband was alone in the desk ; but the Lord was with him. He seemed to be entirely borne on the arm of the Almighty. Itwasadayof woe-ping and rejoicing; before the close, about twelve, aged and youth, came forward and bowed before the Lo*rd, it was the work of the Lord truly. The solemnity and cloud of mercy rested heavily down this day, which will not be forgotten. Text in the forenoon, We are journeying, come go with us, &c. In the evening traveled in the storm to an appointment at J. Corson's. The work moved unobstructed and several backsliders came forward; others feared and trembled, for their foundation shook. Monday afternoon attended the conference at Deacon Burrows, and had a very solemn time ; sermon by Mr.' Moody,- "The hail shall sweep," &c. March, Wtk. Mr. C. went to an appoint- inent at Deacon Burrows' ; very powerful time. Backsliders came forward. 13t/i. Mr. C. expected to attend at the meeting house with Mr. Loring; but in the morning felt duty to go to the meeting appoint- ed by the brethren, at Deacon B's. When he arrived he found of a truth it was the Lord ; 96 L1FM AKJ) WHITINGS OF for a refreshing shower was poured down. Two offered themselves for baptism, one of whom had been sprinkled in infancy, and be- longed to a church. She had long kept back from bearing the cross, and was well nigh sink- ing in her mind : but to-day victory came. /Sabbath, 2Qt/t. Meeting at the Gcrrish school house in the forenoon. Job, chapter xii. verses 7 and 8. Of the beasts learn humility to kneel and obedience to the yoke, sheltering from the storm. Of the fowls learn praise to God ; of the dove learn to fly to the sun, when tempta- tions assail, and learn peace and meekness ; ; of the earth, faithfulness ; of the streams, the in- crease of the Christian ; of the rocks, firmness ; of the trees, aspiring to God ; of the fish, to go together and to go against the current and to keep iu the element of the spirit or to fear death. In the afternoon, Go to the ant, thou sluggard, &c. The sloth of immortal souls who sleep in seed time, and will have to wail in har- vest and find no relief. O Lord save or I perish, for the famine is upon me. What shall I do to inherit eternal life, for I am vile and weak? Shall I, who have done no good thing ever reach the laud of the blessed ? is not my case hopeless? Lord, thou art sufficient, come now to my relief. Such the feelings of my la-art. In the evening, solemn meeting. fS, ClllilSTlANA 13. COWELL. 97 t, Good sermon by 1). Sweet at I 1 . 1 opp's. Pleasant visit nt F. Dixon's. Believe the prison doors are opening to my companion, who has been pressed with a long and heavy bondage. 25M. Good sermon at J, Blaisdell's, two spoke* for the lirst time. The Lord is with his own, '2.1th. Alter a storm the sun rose fair oil our anxious, trembling souls, while at Brother Uriah Blaisdell's. A large congregation as- sembled, Husband, by the help of the faithful Lord, spoke in demonstration of the spirit from Galatians, chapter vt, verse 1. Subject, The two covenants, showing the meaning and im- portance of baptism. Then retired to the water, where Brother E, Brock was led down into the beautiful stream that rolled sweetly at the base of a hill, and came out with loud praises to God, Then followed the tried sister E. Corsou, who had been much remonstrated with for her strict adherence to the command of God; but the Holy Spirit hovered over her, and accepted the obedient child. She came out saying, I was right, it is the Lord's will that I have done. Husband was happy, I felt that I had mar- ried one commissioned of God to go preach and baptize ; and that God did own and bless him at this time. How beauteous are the feet s i)tf LIFE AND WHITINGS OF of those who stand on Zion's hill. Why should we doubt? The Great Head of the church will direct in every step those whose eye and trust is wholly on him. From obedience to the call to go to meeting on the 13th, at Deacon's B's., these saints came forward ; and from this meet- ing was appointed another for others who were desirous of following Christ. Thus the work is . carried on by the unfailing hand of our Re- deemer. All praise belongs to his name, for great is his loving kindness. Monday. Called to see sister Corson ; found her happy ; she said she could now say with a calm that she never before felt, that to obey is better than sacrifice. In the evening returned home, praying that we might bring Jesus with us, a prayer peculiarly answered. Never did I enjoy more of the presence of God than while sitting by our own fireside conversing on the divinity of Christ, and his great mission to earth to purchase with his blood the privilege we this moment enjoy. Truly his spirit teaches as never man taught, searching the deep things of God ; who, when dying, the power that left his human body, shook all creation and returning carried that body to heaven. Re- turned again to earth and is now at the door of every man's heart, even the heathen. Every man that comcth into the world feels this MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 1)9 knowledge of right and wrong and reverence for one begotten of the spirit of God. Oh, the wisdom that cometh from above, how deep I 20th. Visited Brother Stevens' family, found an afflicted yet very patient young fe- male, whose trust was in her Saviour. In the afternoon a large assembly met at Brother J. Fernald's ; sermon by Elder D. Blaisdell : after which repaired to the banks of the pond near, and saw my husband lead William Randall and J. Fall into the water, in obedience to the com- mand of their blessed Lord. April, 1st. My husband troubled in soul for Brother Fernald's son ; saw him bow the knee and beg for mercy ; trust he was deliv- ered. After several calls, with an uncommon pressure of mind, arrived at Brother J. Blais- dell's believed it duty to call, knew not why ; but the hand of God never leads his obedient children wrong, although human wisdom can- not fathom the design. The angel of mercy came. His only daughter bowed and begged for mercy, and the Lord came and smiled on us, we humbly trust. I have not for several days felt so immersed into the spirit and work of God as I desire, but now feel the Lord is near to grant my prayers. I will not rest in such sloth. -Sabbath, 3rd. Husband preached at the meeting house from Mutt. Give place. 100 LIFE AND AVUrilA'GS OF April, 1th. Fast day \ve meet for bap- tism at Uriah Blaisdell's. Husband spoke from Ephesians iv. 5 one Lord, one faith, one bap- tism. 1st. The one Lord Jesus Christ. God made manifest in the flesh, the same that was be- fore Abraham ; that was born of the virgin ; that wrought miracles as God ; that suffered as man ; that ascended to glory and is now by his spirit lighting every man that cometh into the world. 2d. Our knowledge of Him by faith, and this without works is dead. 3d. The works neces- sary to keep faith alive, in which baptism as a command of God is included. Hence we ac- knowledge the one true God by obedience to his command, accompanied with faith in his word. His wonderful spirit was hovering around the spot when the ordinance was ad- ministered, in an unusual degree. Sister Good- win led in by my husband seemed to stand upon the water, so tilled with the spirit that she did not realize that she was in the water, or was baptized beneath the waves. The happiest scene I ever witnessed of the kind ; after her a lad about eleven years of age. Sth. Deacon Burrows called to request Mr. C. to attend a meeting at his house on the Sab- bath. Through the day waded through deep trials, yet holding on to faith as my only prop ; but rested my soul on Jesus. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 101 Sabbath morning. One of the happiest of life ; I with my companion seemed to pass into the Canaan of rest and joy by faith, and tasted its fruits. Oh, glory to God for the hope of heaven and the presence of our dear Jesus while journeying along ! Met a happy company of saints. Sermon from Solomon's Songs, instruc- tive and delivered with power ; it was food to our taste and water to thirsty souls. 5 o'clock, at Mr. Stevens, where our dear sister was sick, but very happy in the Lord, Sermon, There remains a rest for the people of God. A very refreshing season ; saints alive. \Wi. Went to the protracted meeting in the east part of the town ; rather low, but prayed and labored until help from the upper regions came down. Tuesday evening. Mr. C. spoke from John iv. 6, Wilt thou be made whole? Spoke of the unhappy disease of sin, and the remedy, yrctce. \\~<-dne$d. COWELL. 103 warning to Miss L. D., who was once engaged in religion, but very low. Felt sweet peace after doing what I could, hoping the blessing of God might attend. In the afternoon visited Widow Legro, who has long been afflicted ; felt the approbation of God while trying to talk and pray with her. Happy are they who wait only on the Lord. Selah. 3I>/, 2/tfL Went to the conference at Deacon Burrows', and there enjoyed the re- freshing presence of our God. Our aged Brother Elder D. Blaisdell, though very feeble and sick, felt the animation and strength of youth ; his soul was filled and his voice like peals of thunder. Others were very much swallowed up in the boundless ocean of God's eternal love. Praise and honor are due to his name forever. Friday. After an affectionate parting with our dear friends, rode to Great Falls. In the evening attended Brother Home's class, good time. Next day called on old friends of Mr. C's. was much affected in view of the busy world and the many active minds that well might rise in the scientific, moral and religious world so buried and bound in the cares of a selfish world. - The same routine day after day. Oh, the thousand demands of nature that the industrious hand must meet. In the afternoon 104 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF rode to B. Kidge, called at Brother Hanscom's, found them very low and distressed ; prayed with them and gave words of encouragement. Spent the night at Brother I. Heard's ; enjoyed a good season, especially with old father Smith and wife. Sabbath morning. Went to the meeting ; large number assembled. The church rather low. Preaching forenoon and afternoon. But few met for prayer meeting ; find the brethren all chained in the dungeon of Giant Despair ; but we think the Lord is calling them to arise and throw off their chains and move forward. Monday. Spent in calling from house to house ; enjoyed the approbation and presence of God at times, yet clouds and the depression of Zion often roll over us. Still we are deter- mined to conquer though we die. 10th. Cold, windy morning; with a heav- enly peace of mind rode to Lebanon. 23rd. Happy meeting of the sisters at L. D. Spent a few days in visiting, especially the sick, and attending meetings. New Durham Quarterly Meeting held its session with the church in Lebanon. Sermons by Elders San- born, Davis, Pinkham and T. Stevens. Mr. C. could not sleep through the night on account of distress he felt for the people. 26th. Rode to North Berwick ; met after a MES. CHRISTIANA B. COW ELL. 105 year's absence with the friends on B. B. Hill. In this place husband had labored with sorrow and great opposition, and the Lord blessed his labors in the salvation of many souls. June, 1st Waterbo rough Quarterly Meeting holds its session in this place. Very interesting meeting ; prospect of good. Friday. Went to B. Ridge from a sense of duty. We felt that the Lord was ready to come and revive his work, but the church was very low. Visit from house to house, trying to stir up their pure minds by way of remem- brance. Some were tenacious of their indul- gences, which we thought detrimental to the cause of Christ. Sabbath. Listened to an excellent discourse from sister Mrs. D. H. Lord. I believe the Lord directed. Monday. Husband gathered the brethren in church meeting, while I met with the sisters in a prayer meeting, and saw them covenant to- gether to continue the female prayer meeting until they saw a revival of religion. .Long shall I remember that first prayer meeting. Tuesday. Spent in visiting, talking and praying with the people. 8th. Returned to Lebanon ; the meeting had continued fifteen days ; several had been convert- ed, but the work did not seem so deep and thor- 6' 106 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ough as desired. Some labored, while others we feared held prejudice or something that kept them from the sanctuary. Mr. C. and myself have for months felt a great pressure in the place. Yet the Lord has given us feelings for the people to pray for enemies. * I feel as though I would spend and be spent to save these souls. Many I fear will go to ruin through the stubborn or blind idleness of professors in this place. Oh, for a sweeping power that shall destroy all the hay, wood and stubble from God's house. 12th. An anxious meeting where nearly forty assembled to be conversed with, at D. "W. Home's, while brethren met for prayer at the meeting house. June, 28th.. Heavenly season on the sandy banks of Winnepisogee Lake, near old Elder Townsend's, in Wolfeborough, where Mr. C. baptised James Edgerly, George Y. Firbir and Widow Edgerly, as the sun was casting its silver rays over that beautiful sheet of water. God's approval of right motives in great enter- prises. Changes of national government mani- fest in America. The adventurers, Cortez and Pizarro, from Spain and Portugal, for selfish gain, proved a curse, followed by anarchy from Mexico to Chili. Nor were the English settle- ments under Raleigh and Smith successful. MUM. CHRISTIANA B. COW ELL. 107 Twenty-five years after the discovery of Amer- ica, Luther shot forth a divine light, over the darkness of the Old World. England became protestant with many errors. To reform these became the aim of some who were called Puri- tans. Puritan age began in fifteen hundred and fifty. In fifty-eight, eight years later, Queen Elizabeth reigned ; but did not favor the Puritans. The church of England was estab- lished in fifteen hundred and sixty-four. In fifteen hundred and ninety-two a law was passed requiring all to attend the established worship under penalty of banishment, and death, if re- turned. Under the pressure of these persecu- tions, the humble, Heaven-trusting band came to America. Not for gold, power or honor, but to worship God. Seeking a worship with- out a prelate ; government without a king. Hence from such affliction baptized rose the glorious superstructure of religious tolerance and benign institutions of America. England attached the death penalty to over one hundred crimes. The Puritans reduced theirs to eleven. They strove to raise men to the dignity of law. Now men degrade the law to a level with their corrupt selves. They made Christian character and membership requisite to a civil office. Who should direct the affairs of government but men of God? The latter scorned their only dofonco 108 LIFE AND WETTINGS OF against the English Church. John Elliot's In- dian Testament was published in 1661 ; the Old Testament in 1663. He founded a church and built a meeting house in Natick,, all In- dians, some years before. In the same lan- guage Elliot translated Baxter's Call, and other books, and made a grammar. When Elliot was seventy, King Philip's war begun, which was the knell to the Massachusetts Indians. They were sent to Deer Isle, where the aged Elliot visited and comforted them. The day of his death he was teaching an Indian chief his alphabet. His last words were, Welcome joy. Died rich in faith and good works, 86 years of age. July, 1842. Visited relatives in Hampton Little River, (so called) where we saw the power of God displayed in a wonderful manner ; many of the fishermen of that place signed the temperance pledge. Have meetings in Rye ; some revival. July 4:th. Went to Kensington to what was then called a Miller Campmeetiug. Mr. Miller was present, preaching the doctrine ac- cording to his reckoning that Christ would make his second appearance in the year eighteen hundred and fifty-three, which caused great excitement throughout the land. Charts were exhibited, endeavoring to show that the proph- MRS. CHRISTIANA B.- COWELL. 109 ecy of Daniel would be fulfilled at that time. Great enquiry to know if these things were so ; there we met Elder Elias Smith for the first time ; enquired of what he thought of the doctrine ; replied that he did not believe the Lord would reveal to us down here in the bushes what he would not let his Angels know. Returned to Lebanon with the expectation of soon visiting Hampton again ; but the work of the Lord commenced again in power, scores were flocking to Christ, therefore tarried at Lebanon for several months ; husband preach- ing and baptizing the happy converts. Jan. 28th, 1843. Birth of a daughter. March. Visit my old home at Wolfeborough. Mr. C. returns to Lebanon. On account of the drifting snow had to stay at W. several weeks before my husband could come for me to return to my home in Lebanon. Spent the summer in domestic afiairs, visiting, and attending meetings. For the few past years my husband has traveled some among destitute churches, but on account of poor health has engaged some in the labors on his farm. "NVe have done what we could to advance the cause of education in this place, so much so that the friends of edu- cation propose to build an Academy, that the youth may have the privilege of storing their minds with useful knowledge. 110 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF April 15th, 1847. Birthday of our oldest son. Felt a divine consolation as in spirit I drew near the altar of God and gave back the gift I had received, most sincerely praying that he may be taken into the house of God as his servant, and if continued on earth, that his life be one of holy consecration to God and eminent usefulness. I would ever feel that living or dying he is not mine but his who gave him. I pass the spring and summer in feeble health, often quite worn out with the" care of my little one who seems to share my infirmities, requir- ing many hours of care. A dear brother who feels that his sphere in life is to be one of re- sponsibility and spiritual labor, seeks some facilities for moral and mental culture at the Oberliu Institute, Ohio. The friends of Ziou groan, being burdened while they behold her waste places, made so by the great Advent excitement ; a chilly delusion seems to spread all over the churches. And the words of the faithful fall like idle tales upon the ear of the hardened in sin. A heavy despondency presses upon the hearts of such as seek the soul's best interest. But there's a light religion gives Serener far than Luna's ray ; That wanders 'mid the folding leaves, Or on the sleeping waters lay. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. Ill Young pilgrim o'er life's stormy sea, By fearful tempests wildly driven, Look up, look up, it shines for thee, And points thy fragile bark to Heaven. 1847. Our housed father, Rev. S. Coffin and mother C. are visiting the Western States Illinois, Wisconsin and Iowa. Father is laboring with good success, seeing saints re- vived and many hardy sous of the prairies sub- mitting to be saved by gospel grace. Sept. Joyfully welcome our returning parents after an absence of twelve months, safely returned to count the blessings and pre- serving mercies of God in bringing them safely through their journeyings of some five thousand miles. Greatly interesting to hear their recitals of the past year. Father had been very near the gate of death with fever. Sister C. is teacher in Charlestown Female Seminary, where she has an opportunity of doing much good. Sister S., having finished her education at Hartford is a seamstress in Rochester Village, New Hampshire. Dec. Visit Wolfeboro ugh. While here, a little brother, John Riley Coffin, aged two years, sickened and died ; a sad bereavement ; while we weep his loss on earth angels welcome his sinless spirit to regions of light, health and love. 112 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF June. Visit Ossipee and East Wolfeborough, enjoy a heavenly season at Brother Nute's. Found Sister N. sick ; she seemed much revived in spirit when we left. Some interest in Ossi- pee, but very low. Callefl at J. Plnmmer's in Milton, a good spiritual family, where we have had many pleasant spiritual visits ; learned that a good Sister Varney wanted to see Mr. C, but he could not conveniently go, as she lived a few miles away. Oct. Rev. O. B. Cheney and home breth- ren thought best to commence a protracted meeting at Lebanon and make an effort to break from the spell-like gloom that brooded over us. Elder Elias Hutchins labored with us in love, meekness and much assurance. Some displays of God's power were manifest in moving saints, and two or three sinners in- dulged a hope in Christ. But far less victory was gained than hoped for ; yet those who humbly labored were made to rejoice in the glorious light of God's approving smiles ; but to some we fear, those means of grace were a savor of death unto death. Feb. Visited "Wolfeborough again and called on our good Brother Plummer's ; learned that Sister Varney was desirous for Mr. C. to stop in the place. Groaning in spirit and believing that Mr. C. had a work to do there for the MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COW ELL. 113 Lord, is why she had requested him to call. As he had felt an increasing interest for the place, Mr. C. left me at W. and went back. No sooner had he entered the place, than the spirit of the Lord fell upon him and his sonl travailed for perishing sinners. Before the setting of the sun that day he saw poor back- sliders, long slain witnesses, humbly confessing to God and seeking their first love. The work spread in a powerful manner, until some twenty young men and several young ladies were trust- ing in the pardoning mercy of God ; a bright dawning on the long darkness that had envel- oped Zion. While at Wolfeborongh, my little son was very sick with the croup, and I felt the calm trust with which I had given him up strangely tested; but was enabled to say, Lord, he is thine, do as it pleases thee with thy own. Lo ! when my stricken soul looked for death, life and health were given, and my heart praised God. Mr. Cowell, having labored day and night, came to "NY. for a little rest, and to take me back with him to West -Milton. Here my soul was awed with a deep sense of the awful presence of God, but hesitated not, but to do with my might what I found to do. One evening while the anxious were going forward for prayers, one 3-011 ng man arose, singing, I am on my way to Canaan, and 114 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF walked to the anxious seat ; others arose from their knees after praying and commenced sing- ing, "We'll disappoint the devil." To those who knew how long and hard satan had held these young men, to see them thus break his ranks, was a scene of thrilling interest. One evening I went to take a seat among the anxious to mingle my prayers for their deliver- ance ; I happened to take a seat by a young lady, a stranger, who was weeping bitterly. I turned to speak a word of encouragement, when I heard a heavy, quick step behind me, and the hand of her father was on my shoulder. I turned round and met a gaze that I shall never forget. Rage and fury seemed flashing from his eyes and his looks I dare not describe. He charged me not to oax his daughter, he did not want it. I smiled assent. I felt that God was my defense, I could pray for those who would not go themselves, and those that would, they hindered. I afterwards learned that the adversary made a mistake in this move ; for a hardened young man who was sitting with this father, in seeing him persecute me, as he said, began to reflect, is this my company that I have chosen to associate with ; such a spirit will eertafMy have its punishment. Such thoughts so fastened on the young man that he sajv his wretched state and fled to Christ, and MUS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 115 found a happy freedom from his guilt. Mr. C. soon baptized him with several other happy converts. But how soon was this bright scene to be overshadowed. A minister, w r ho formerly preached there, now a very ultra Adventist, canie in with a spirit of controvers} 7 ; and some old professors who had stood aloof from the work, began to cast fire brands among the flock and a distressing declension followed. May some of the converts live to honor and glorify God. April 18th. Have several boarders, schol- ars who are attending the Academy. En- deavor to exert a holy influence over them. They often join us in reading the Bible in the morning ; have several interesting conversations with them, especially with one young man who professes infidelity. June. Left alone. Sit at our table with our own family, it being the first time for four months past. Prepare for the Yearly Meeting, which is the "VV. H. Yearly Meeting. Much company. Among others, Ruel Cooley and wife, who are soon to sail to India as mission- aries, lovely couple. Heaven's blessings at- tend them ! A vast crowd at the meeting. My health extremely poor. Part with Belinda Fol- som, a kind young girl, who has assisted me, a student for several months. 116 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF June 24:th. Found myself under new obli- gations to honor and thank God for his preserv- ing grace. Another little son was given to our charge, another offering to be made on the altar of God, another soul to train for eternal des- tinies. Oh, how my spirits are pressed by the weight of responsibilities ! Heaven's throne is a fountain of wisdom. What a privilege to be permitted to draw therefrom ! Three little ones now to call me mother, and look to me to shape their future characters. The summer is one of extreme debility, sometimes just quivering on the verge of time, just ready to launch away. Oh, what sublime and solemn views were before my mind, as I neared the awful scenes of eter- nity ! The parting hour on earth; the real, undreaming review in which my life should pass before the eye of eternal justice ; the strict scrutiny of my hopes, were passing often through my mind ; and while friends came silently around my bed, as they supposed, to take a linal look at my pale features, my soul seemed held in perfect quiet. There was another scene in life that I believed I should act. One object far above all others seemed to hold my mind yet a little longer. Though helpless ones were around, and near friends to wish my stay, yet the thought that I should be the humble means of leading some perishing soul to Christ, made MUS. CHRISTIANA U. COWELL. 117 me feel that life's work was not yd done. When 1 was able to get to the window, to look upon the earth, a dismal scene presented itself. Veg- etation was withering away beneath a scorching sun day after day ; springs and fountains of water were dried up, and far as eye could see MUS desolation and dearth. Papers brought in- telligence that cholera was raging to an alarm- ing extent. A day of prayer was appointed by the Governor of the State, for us to remember before God our sins, with humility, and pray for mercy in the midst of judgments. Never shall I forget the grateful emotions with which I was aroused from a short slumber by a copious fall of rain. The rush of the wind, and the dash of the big drops against my window made delightful music, which seemed to waft upward my grateful soul in humble praise to God, who hears and answers prayer, and who has said, " Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will hear." After I was able to leave my room, I received a visit from my brother from Oberlin Institu- tion, Ohio, with his wife, a teacher in the Insti- tution. My brother had been absent two and a half years. I was so overcome with joy at see- ing them, that I could not speak, and my weak frame trembled violently, and I was obliged to take my bed. His wife was taken very sick, 118 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF for several days uimhle to rise from her bed. It seemed a time of peculiar afflictions, yet we trusted in Him who said, "My grace is suffi- cient." I parted with my brother and his wife, feeling it among the uncertainties that we should ever meet on earth again. Felt to pray that he, with ourselves, be possessed with that humble, meek grace that shall convert life's ills to sanc- tifying blessings, and prepare for greater use- fulness. Have long been in the furnace of affliction, but feel that I shall yet see a day of peace and greater prosperity. Mr. C. labors part of the time on Plummer's Ridge, in Milton, and sees considerable interest manifested. March. Begin to feel that God is drawing near us again in mercy. Remarked to callers one day, I was quite sure we should see the power of the Lord displayed, and felt a singular assurance. They looked surprised, and seemed to say, I hope so, but do not see any prospect. Our spirits were burdened with a sense of God's sublime presence in the place. Mr. C. held a meeting, and a solemn feeling of conviction was evident, especially among the students of the Academy ; lukewarm professors were revived. Mr. C. held a consultation with the Preceptor of the Academy, Rev. O. B. Cheney, saying to him, he believed good was coming. Mr. Cheney . ClliasTIANA B. CO WELL. 119 commenced having meetings at the Academy, mornings and evenings, and a wonderful out- pouring of God's Spirit followed. One morn- ing a lad came to our door, his eyes red with weeping, exclaiming, "Do go out to the Acad- emy. We attempted to begin the school," he said, " and those who could not study on account of the burden of sin, went up into the hall to pray ; those below attempted to go on with their studies and recitations ; but one after another would close their books to listen to the groans and cries above, until they all left the school- room and joined the praying company." By noon, several who had been vain young persons, came into our doors, smiling with heavenly joy ; they felt that their sins were forgiven. Several of the scholars indulged a hope in Christ, some of whom, we confidently hope, will be instru- ments of great good in this sinful world. It seemed that my own soul, while permitted to encourage and help lead along these precious lambs of the flock, and weep and pray with the distressed and rejoice with those that rejoice, attained to a place nearer to the throne of God and fountain of heavenly joy than it ever before found. I felt that I belonged to God ; I was not my own, but His, to do with me as seemeth good. Precious consecration ! Nearer, nearer let me nestle to thy faithful bosom, O my Father. 120 LIFE AND' WRITINGS OF Sweetly draw me by thy love. Let me never from thee stray. Though the world with charms may dazzle, To lure my heart to seek its joy ; Yet here alone is Pleasure's fountain, Holy, deep, without alloy. Oh ! what vain, deluded mortals ! That dream away life's fleeting hour. Without one glance at Heaven's mercies, Till they're withdrawn and all is o'er. Then what anguish ! Oh, what anguish ! Will possess the waking soul, To mourn a Saviour's offers slighted, While unceasing ages roll. March, 1849. A very interesting conversa- tion with my little daughter six years old. After reading to her a pretty story of a dying mother conversing with her little daughter about heaven, my little girl came and threw her arms around my neck, saying with sobs and tears, mamma, I want to go to Heaven and live with you and all the good. After telling her that God required of us lives of prayer and holiness, she resolved to pray daily and never do wrong if she could help it. What will you do with the wrong you have already done ? I inquired ; you know it is all remembered ill heaven. Oh, I don't know, mamma, what shall I do? I then endeavored to explain the way YiUS CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 121 that Christ had opened by his death, and for his sake our sins were forgiven if we humbly repented. She afterwards seemed deeply in- terested in divine things, often conversing with her little mates and urging them to live good and praying lives. Lebanon, April, 1850. Some very interest- ing meetings in the north part of the town, revival interest spreading. Brethren F. and M. from Great Falls", came and entered into the work. Mr. C. lets his store to J. O. R., a young man of talent, who apparently is a Jonah running away from the Lord, fear that he will not find at last that he has done what he could, and enjoy the approving smiles of God. A fear to meet the cold criticisms of an unfeel- ing world keeps him from yielding to the spirit which is in his heart, a smothered fire prompting him to leave all and be a fisher of men. Yet a little while and we fear that the last flickerings of that holy tire will go out, then how great will that darkness be. Sept, Mr. C. has passed the summer most- ly at home upon the farm ; health very poor, children sick most of the summer ; one little boy and husband very sick with typhoid fever ; a babe also sick in the cradle ; but little pros- pect of recovery. While I go from couch to couch of suffering and disease, I feel that in 122 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Heaven is my only helper ; and surely lie does not forsake me. Feel a sweet reliance upon his promise, though I pass through deep waters he will not forsake me ; feel strengthened in body and mind to meet the excessive demands upon my strength ; and from whence but from Thee, my Redeemer. Truly thou dost remem- ber me, and not a hair shall fall without thy notice. Thy rod falls in love. Dec. Mr. C. and the children have been brought up from the brink of the grave ; while Father Co well, who was taken sick near the same time, has finished his days of extreme suffering and found his everlasting rest. He desired the time to come when he should be released ; selected the text and hymns, and Rev. E. Place to preach at his funeral. Feb. 1851. Visit Wolfeborough. March. Feel a deep labor and anxiety of mind, believe God's presence is in the place to convict and save. Go about my house with a mournful heaviness on my heart while the multitudes, moving on to ruin, are continually before my mind ; distress sometimes so great I can scarcely relish food. Am sure it is the approach of the Almighty in judgment or mercy. Why fear to pen these sensations since they seem so evident to my own heart ! . The school has commenced ; some MRS. CHRISTIANA tt, CO WELL. 123 are heard to say they hope there will be a revival as heretofore. April. An interest is manifest, several are anxious, others are indulging a hope in the mercies of God and seem firm, decided soldiers of the cross. How gracious art thou, O Lord, how manifold are thy works. How great Is thy loving kindness to the children of men. How sublime and divinely fair thy footsteps as thou comest to walk in thy garden, to water and revive its drooping plants, The lilies send forth sweet perfume at thy approach and the tender herb looks up and is glad. Dreamed I went out from my door, a light snow lay on the earth. A few paces from the door found a lamb lying on the ground, its fleece filled with snow, its limbs cold and stiff. I attempted to raise it up and help it to walk ; it sank down again entirely numb, and made no effort, but seemed ready to perish. I took it in my arms and brought it near a larire fire that was o f blaxing on the hearth which I had just left. Oh, who is that lamb entirely chilled by the cold snows of worldly influence and pride, and sunk down to die in full sight of the door of Zion's tents? Strengthen that which remains, O Lord ; for it is ready to die. Move all others, and hold constant dominion in my heart, it is that of being soon discharged from earth, and going to rest above. The ob- jects for which I have heretofore lived seem fading away, and my eye fixes an eager, stead- fast gaze on the hill-tops of the blissful shore. In the awful grandeur of the contemplations, what inexpressible emotions sweep through my soul I To be with God, the great unapproach- able by mortals, to gaze with eye undimmed upon His majestic countenance, to live upon His smiles and forever enjoy His love, and then to find, in blissful wanderings over its elysian fields, those dear, those loved babes, and again enfold them to this now bleeding bosom. AVho can describe the tenderness of that grief when a sweet child, who has nestled so fondly, so confidingly in my arms for twelve months, is removed and laid awa} r in the silent earth ! Painful emotions press for utterance, but cannot find it. Yet I would not for one moment call back that dear one from her happy home, much as I would love to look once more into those mild, winning eyes, and press that tiny form. No, she was dear, but is no longer mine. O my Father in heaven, I implore Thee to speak 142 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF to the billows of grief that toss and foam in my heart, for they well nigh overwhelm me ! bid them be hushed, and own Thy power. What could bear me up in this day of my weakness and affliction, if Thy hand did not hold me? My grief is doubled, that she who was in my arms when my dear boy waa torn away, to gather up the bleeding tendrils and twine them around her sweet, holy spirit, has now broken them all afresh. Was it not idolatry in the sight of the Great, the only worthy to be adored, when I looked with such bewildering bliss into her deep spiritual eyes, gazed on her fair and beautiful face, and felt that in herself was hap- piness? I have sinned, O my Father, in Thy sight, and was well-deserving Thy chastening rod. Now, I deeply desire and truly pray Thee to bind my heart to Thy throne, and sanctify all my afflictions. Suiter me not to sin in the strong desire that possesses me to break these clogs of clay and soar away from earth. I fear 1 am too weary of its toils and sorrows ; too anxious for the harmony and love of heaven. Truly, never had all the things of this life been so lost in the glorious contemplations of the spirit world, never did the mystic vail so nearly roll up, and disclose the overwhelming grandeur and beauty of the dwelling-place of the abode of angels, the place for the Mi:S. CimiSTfANA B. COWELL. 143 good, the home of the pure, the rest of the weary. Each breeze that sweeps over the hills seems fraught with life, to bear up the wing of viewless spirits who float around me and invite me and draw me away. Had I the wings of a dove, I would fly away and be at rest. A beautiful bird came in and lighted on my window. I took it in my hand while it fluttered and escaped and bruised itself against the glass in its eager attempts to cleave the air and be gone. I raised the window, held the little im- patient prisoner far out in the air, and set him free. What joy as it spread its wings, mounted higher and higher and soared away and away, joying as he went to its own native clime and kindred dear. True emblem of the strivings of my own imprisoned spirit ; my heart leaped and mounted in unison with the bird, for it foreshadowed to me as I stood gazing after it, the happy souls released and buoyant, mounting up to God in its own native realm. There my best friends and kindred dwell, And there I long to be. October, 3rd. Retired at night Avith great heaviness of heart, felt there was no balm for the bleeding wound in my aJlVctions. Gentle sleep at last came over me, and my spirit was caught up to Heaven where God resides and 144 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF viewed glories unutterable . A vision of gran- deur burst upon me as never did before. Oh, that holy, happy place, no words can bring to mortal conception. During my pilgrimage, so far on earth, I never before was led up to -see its glorious entrance. By faith's dim taper I made my way along the pilgrim road with here and there a rich repast, but never before with such clear transporting gaze, beheld the New Jerusalem, the glorious City of our God. Blest seats, through rude and stormy scenes, I onward press to you. Surely in the day of darkness my God is near me, from the depths of anguish he lifts me up, and makes nic to understand his living kindness. Hi 1 takes my soul ere I'm awarv, And shows me where his glories are, He leads me in a way I know not ; surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. 25th. I feel my spirit settling into quiet trust and sometimes moved with strong desire to exemplify to the world the true graces of the Christian faith. If by continued affliction only I leave behind reliable evidence of the power of grace to sustain, let it como. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 145 November, I5tk. Left the house that has been 1113' home from my marriage, and the scene of many sorrows ; the birth of four children, and the death of two, and removed into a new tenement near by. Old home, good-bye many sad and tender memories will linger long around thy spacious apartments. The death scenes of those dearer to me than life, will be ever rising iirst with thoughts of thee. Let me wander where I may, never can pass away from memory or cease to cast over me, that shadow which claims all earthly joys and leads the mind to look above to the lights that have passed away from earth and fixed themselves, like beaming ' O stars, in the midnight sky, beaming sweetly over the way. I look long and wistfully up- ward until I almost forget the things of earth, and feel my spirit mingling in delicious affinity with spirits of a high and holy order. April) 18oo. Long time have I neglected to commune with my journal or make, as here- tofore here and there, a track of the inner progress or spirit's pilgrimage upon its page. A great and glorious display has been witnessed of the power and goodness of God, since this year commenced. This people contentious, envious, and tilled with all evil devices and evil speaking, have been left to themselves without a spiritual teacher for some months. No meet- 14() LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ings of worship on the Sabbath. One weekly class meeting that commenced with eleven who agreed to labor for union and pray for this people ; Mr. C. leader. I was requested to take charge of a Bible class, which met at our house. Likewise agreed to have the sewing circle meet evenings, On the first meeting there were fifty-seven present, members of two families who had been at variance joined hands and agreed to remember their strife no more. Union, love and happiness seemed to prevail, and interest greatly increase in re- ligious meetings. Mr. C. appoints them more frequently, crowds begin to gather, the cold and backsliders in heart to return confessing to God and his people ; and one young lady, Doreas G., has found Christ. Sabbath meet- ings being holden ; deep solemnity seemed rest- ing like a cloud filled with rain over the place. Rev. E. Place came and preached two Sab- baths, filled with the spirit. Mr. C. was re- quested to preach in the Academy, as the meet- ing house was desolate and unfit for service. The proprietors, who had been full of conten- tion, met and unanimously agreed to repair their house of worship. The sewing circle met often during the winter to raise funds for that object. A deep work of grace seems going on in the hearts and an entire new aspect has come over MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 147 the community. Converts multiply until they number more than twenty new born souls within half a mile around. Mr. C. has labored with the brethren in the place, with an occasional visit from other ministers. The humble class numbers fifty-one, and the place has become too straight for them ; and there is scarcely a place to be found that can convene the crowds that come to the place of worship. Many have been reclaimed from a dormant, useless state, -and still many are under deep conviction, with a solemn sense of their lost condition without God and hope. Our earnest prayer is, that God will still move and exert His Almighty power in saving lost men in this place. April, "25th. The great work still goes on in this place ; have had very welcome visits from Revs. Edgerly, Rand, Webber and Tap- pan ; each preached to the people. Enjoyed a liberal donation visit and had a very pleasant interview. May Heaven's blessing fall in return on the cheerful giver. They do not wish them called gifts, but a remuneration as an acknowl- edgement of the labors of Mr. C, in this time of need and destitution. Others recently have found the Saviour. How divinely fair, how richly glorious, how supremely grand thy go- ings forth, O Lord, in this place. Almost we J48 LIFU AND WRITINGS Of can say like Simeon, Let us now depart we have seen thy salvation ; our souls are trusting in Thee. Thou art my soul's adored Redeemer, her everlasting trust. How firm our confidence in the word of God in his willingness to hear and answer prayer, and his over-ruling power and faithfulness in marking out the best path for those that trust in Him, Perhaps nothing but the chastening rod that He has laid on na could have so prepared us for the great work in which He has thrust us for a few months past. Nothing else so completely weaned me from the world, and all vain, selfish motives, and fixed my mjnd and directed my aims to the soul's all important destinies. Never did I feel more entirely free from a worldly or self inter- est ; in whatever I do I feel the one great object moving deep in my soul, to labor for the Glory and honor of God and the good of sou la. With this happy consciousness, I look into the future with most peaceful trust, let it unfold what it may for me, all will be well. " Great peace have they that love thy law and nothing shall offend them," Mrs, D., a neighbor, has been suddenly called into eternity. It is the voice of God calling us all to be ready. I often feel should my exit be thus early, I would have it written on my coffin, rejoice that I am with God. It seems so delightful to come into the MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 149 open presence of Him I have so ardently loved, so often communed with, so long trusted in, and feel that I shall, and grieve Him no more, but be forever clothed in his righteousness and dwell in his visible glory. Filled with delight, my raptured sonl Would here no longer stay, Should Jordan's waves around me roll, Fearless I'd launch away. Yet not in myself can I see or feel the least good but in Christ. I sometimes feel absorbed and forget that I exist, other than in His all- ravishing fullness and glory. What am I that I should find acceptance with such a being of holiness and power ! Surely I am as dust, yet He lifts me up and makes me understand the exceeding riches of His goodness. G O Sept. 1855. More than one year has passed since I lay my sweet babe down to sleep in the grave. It has quickly fled. How insufficient I felt to bear on life's way a year longer ; yet my Keeper was at hand, and has not suffered me to faint ; while another billow now darkens my way, fraught with many sorrows and per- haps death. I have only to wait still on God. How many tokens of love I have had from my dear children. How soothing has been its influence over my spirit amid the ills of life ; 150 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF and now how inexpressibly fervent is my prayer that they shun all evil, grow up in the fear and wisdom of God, be a great honor to their Heavenly and earthly father, and meet me at last in heaven. No sin can enter there ; for without holiness no man can see the Lord. May they hate sin, love each other, read the Bible much, and pray every day that God may keep them and at last take them to rest. And remember that a mother has often prayed for them, and perhaps looks down from Heaven to watch the path of those she loved on earth. My spirit daily leans on the fatherly bosom of my God who has so often proved Himself the Faithful and True. The ever-present help in trouble cannot fail me now. No ! I firmly hold Him by my spirit's trust, and I daily and hourly feel sweet tokens of his love distilling like refreshing dew around my head. I awake from pleasant dreams at night and feel His loving presence is with me and guards my mid- night hours ; and when I think of again going among those who I have often heard praise and extol the name of Christ, a warm desire springs up in me to be able to make His glorious char- acter more known and imitated. I would live for one object above all others, to reflect in my life the excellencies of the true faith. A precious female prayer meeting has been MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 151 held ill our house for some weeks past, in which by kind arrangements, I have had the rich privilege of mingling in social worship. During the long time passed in making ar- rangements in the church, to unite two in one, which has long been divided, and settling a pastor, the mind was becoming diverted from the great revival interest, so long pervading our community. To maintain the earnest zeal for the continued progress of the good work, the sisters have met and prayed, and not in vain. The work has again revived, seven have started for heaven, fifteen have been baptised, and a hallowed influence pervades the place. Rev. F. Moulton has been engaged to become pastor and has already commenced his labor among us. My worthy father, who has purchased a farm, and lives within a few rods of us, has been taken suddenly sick, and for a few hours seemed near his end, from a violent hemorrhage. The near prospect of the loss of such a kind parent nearly overwhelmed me ; yet he lives and may continue to be a blessing to his family and the world. Few ever had such a father as I have. How great have been the blessings and mercies that have fallen on this unworthy head ! November, 1856. More than a year has been numbered with those before the flood since my pen has been turned to this record. Another 152 LIFE AND WEITINGS OF darling son has been given us, and a very choice treasure he has been to us, often as a balm to a bleeding wound, have we pressed his little chubby form to our bosom ; yet with all the strong affection with which we hold him, we trust we have consecrated him to God. And often as he lay sleeping on my breast, my prayer has ascended to his God and my God, that he be sanctified through grace and faith- fully serve and honor God on earth and praise him in Heaven. My father has been restored and is again in the wide world praclaiming salvation to lost men. The church has seemed low in spiritual life, yet we long most ardently for the light of life again to dawn upon us. But to retrace the path of my own inner life. I dwell with satis- faction upon the bright spots in the retrospect where the Divine favor burst through the clouds of sorrow in which I was enveloped, leaving a bright halo, lingering still, to mark the spot and to shed forever a beacon ray along life's path. A few weeks after the birth of our son, my health and strength was again prostrated by a severe abscess and fever. For several days and nights I could obtain no sleep ; the pain of the abscess and the raging of the fever brought me to a very low point, the last extreme that reason could hold her sway ; quivering, tremb- MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 153 ling as on a pivot it hung ; on that mysterious point, between consciousness and the dreading vagueries, and the uncoutrolable spirit burst beyond the curb of reason. When at last the abscess was lanced and the pain subsided, I sought again to lose myself in sleep ; but it fled from me. I began to say to myself, these many days and nights I have sought rest and strength in sleep, and so great has been my pain and weakness, I have scarcely lifted one thought to Heaven, but have seemed to forget there was One who has said, "Call upon me in trouble and I will hear." Now I will cast my mind on God, and let it rest and give up all anxiety for the body ; for he will take care of that also. I was soon lost to all earthly consciousness. A Being of life was hovering down before me, a countenance which no language can ever describe. No ! It must live and glow upon the page of my heart's vision in beauty too exquisite ever to be painted ; clouds were round about him, but his face was not hid in it ; there was an expression of majesty so awful as if the universe would dart away in dismay at His power. Yet blending with this grandeur of authority and power, there was an expression of love so benignant, so serenely beautiful, that seemed to invite the humblest of all exist- encies to come near and call Him Father. As 154 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF I gazed iii calm delight upon the glorious vision, I beheld in his hand a deep urn filled with a rich liquid of the consistency of oil and the color of wine, which he seemed just ready to pour down, I knew not where. Just then came thrilling through my mind with a force I never before felt " I will pour in the wine and the oil of consolation." Then again came the words, "I sat under his shadow with great delight and his fruit was sweet to my taste." As a child by its resemblance establishes its paternity, so did these words and the Divine image before my mind, seem of one nature, all Divine. At this moment came such an intuitive certainty and perfectness of the divine origin of the Bible, as was beyond the power of argu- ment. When the glorious view faded away, there remained in my heart such a feeling, such an indescribable luxury of love and trust in an Omnipotent Love, as can never be forgotten, and seems to me can never be surpassed (only in quantity not in nature,) when I shall be united to the Infinite in Heaven and be sur- rounded with the atmosphere of perfect love. How vast the power; how broad, high and unfathomably deep the love of Him who cares for us. When shall we understand Him. M Lo, He is past finding out." Plunged in the Godhead's deepest sea, I'm lost in His immensity. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 155 Thus in one of life's extremities was I per- mitted to enjoy one of the richest experiences of my Christian pilgrimage. LOOK UP, LOOK UP TO HEAVEN. Voyager o'er life's stormy sea, By fitful tempests driven, When sorrow's waves seeni whelming thee, Look up, look up to Heaven. Laborer on some burning plain, Thy life for heathen given, When sinking under toil and pain, Look up, look up to Heaven. Soldier on life's battle-field, Where foes have well nigh beaten, Once more ere thou the contest yield, Look up, look up to Heaven. Watchman who the vineyard's soil Would guard from sin's vile leaven, When fruitless seems thy weary toil, Look up, look up to Heaven. Sinner low with anguish bowed, Who pleads to be forgiven, When dark despair is gathering round, Look up, look up to Heaven. Mourner bending o'er the tomb, To weep love's tendrils riven, Amid death's solemn, silent gloom, Look up, look up to Heaven. 156 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Mother, who long and weary years, For others' weal hast striven, When thankless words requite thy tears. Look up, look up to Heaven. Bondman, whose heart with anguish bleeds, Inflicted seven times seven, When life's last faintest light recedes, Look up, look up to Heaven. Hear angels, whose enchanting notes As soft as summer's even, On every coming breeze it floats, Whispering Heaven, sweet Heaven. INSCRIBED TO THE REV. MOSES QUINBY AND WIFE, In Memory of their Daughter, who died aged seven years. I am going home, said the dying child, I'm going to be an angel now ; And the little sufferer meekly smiled, And a glow of light lit up her brow. Papa, you've held us on your knee, And told us much of Jesus' love, How little ones like sis and me Were living in his home above. And when, dear father, you have told Of that rich city, bright and fair, With gates of pearl and streets of gold, Oh, how I've wished I could be there. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 157 And now, papa, I'm going home ; The shining angels I shall see ; Thej T 're near me now, they're saying, come, Listen ! I'm sure they're calling me. I know you'll weep when I am gone, I love you all, yet cannot stay ; You know I shall not go alone, This angel band will lead the way. Mother, you know I've loved the flowers, The singing birds, and cool soft breeze ; When sick and weak through summer hours, I've pined to play 'iieath shady trees. And now one simple thing I crave, When I am buried with the dead, Come plant a tree above my grave, To spread its branches o'er my head. The spot I know you won't forget, But as it grows from year to year, Beneath its shade you'll come and sit, And drop perhaps for me a tear. The little form grew stiff and still, And fainter, shorter grew each breath, One feeble moan and all was still, It was the solemn hush of death. PART SECOND. The Saviour comes, but there's a cloud The light of His loved face to hide, His hands are strange, for there's a shroud To vail the marks of the Crucified. 158 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF He, His voice is as one unknown, The stricken hearts grow faint with fear ; For ne'er before had the holy one In robes of death approached so near. The bosom heaves with strange wild pain, The earth seems hid beneath a pall, While surging waves like the storm-beat main, With whelming flood on the spirit fall. The angel one comes nearer still, The dark-gloved hand has touched the heart Its chords with deeper anguish thrill, Its tendrils bleeding, quivering, part. The conflict's past the severed ties Have loosed their mighty hold, And lo I before thy weeping eyes, The Saviour's arms thy child enfold. Then, Oh, what majesty and grace, Compassion, love and tenderness Are beaming from that glorious face, As words divine, the mourner bless, The vision rising now from sight In distant glory fades away, As stars that cheer the long dark night Are lost at last in brightening day, Down the skies there steals a tone, Soft breathings of the father's love, " Still nearer, nearer to my throne, Thy treasure and thy heart above." The wound must bleed, the tears must fall The sweetest, tenderest ties are riven, Yet there's a hope that glows through all You'll find your angel child in Heaven. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 159 THY ANGEL SISTER. Inscribed to Miss Nancie H. Stevens, Alton, N. H. Hear ye not the low sound of her hovering wing, Blending softly the while with a dear spirit tone, As thy sister, thy angel, stoops earthward, to bring Viewless balm to thy bosom, now bleeding and lone ? " I am here," she is saying, " I'm near to thee still, I am come from a region of unclouded day, And its flowers I bring, at the Holy One's will, To bestrew here and there thy lone pilgrimage way. " I am watching the shadows that over thee steal, As ye muse o'er the past, and the dear buried dead, And I hasten to quiet the pang that ye feel, And to kiss off the sisterly tear that ye shed." Yes, she blesses thee still, though never on earth May'st drink from her eye love's hallowed light, Never more hear her voice, round the quiet home hearth, Nor thy kind vigils keep by her couch, the long night. She's blessing thee still, and her angelic hand Wakes to music celestial, thy sad spirit-lyre, And a light streameth down from a glorious land, And a voice ever calls, " Come up higher, come up higher ! " West Lebanon, Me. C. B. COWELL. 160 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF COMPOSED FOB MISSES COOK AND STEVENS, TWO LADY BOARDERS. How sweet and tender is the tie That binds us heart to heart, While few sweet days have fluttered by And brings the mournful hour to part. And will thy thoughts in kindness dwell On her who pens these lines in love, Who sighs to speak the word farewell, And prays for union sweet above ? Good-bye, a kind and long good-bye, The words send back a tender pain ; For who can say that yon and I Shall ever meet on earth again. Yet fare thee well, and may our hearts In humble trust to God be given, That when life's latest ray departs, We find a union sweet in Heaven. THE SILENT LESSON. BY CRADLE-SIDE. IT was the quiet, meditative hour of the Sab- bath twilight that Mrs. Lynde, a mute mother, was sitting alone in her pleasant room. The holy Bible was before her. She had been read- ing and musing on its priceless treasures, when little Carrie, her second daughter, stole softly MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 161 to her mother's side. A glow o f innocent beauty was on her face as she turned a beseech- ing and trusting look to her mother's doting gaze. What would my sweet daughter have? was the language of those eyes, but never of the lips. Immediately the hands of little Carrie were raised, and pointing to the Bible, her head, her heart, then upward to God, give this silent utterance to the wish that her mother would take her on her lap as she had often done, and read and talk to her of God. Al- though but six years of age, Carrie had evinced great love and unusual understanding of the wonderful things of God. The child of pious parents, though both deaf mutes, the amount of religious instruction Carrie had received through their silent language, was blessed in the early maturing of the Christian graces in her almost baby heart. It had long seemed her highest joy to be engaged in singing holy songs or talking of heaven and its blessed company. On this occasion her mother again took her upon her lap and began reading to her the twenty- third Psalm "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want." With a look of increasing satisfaction the child watched the moving of the mother's hand, and the varied expression of her face, now and then smiling assent, as she caught the sublime 162 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF thoughts that leaped from the waving hands, until she came to the fourth verse "Yea, though I walk through the valley and shadow of death," &c. Here tears glistened in the eyes of Carrie, and raising her hands with an invol- untary shudder, she made signs that she was afraid. For a moment she covered her face with her hands and wept. Then without any further suggestion from her mother, she slid down from her mother's lap, and dropped on her knees in prayer. The scene grew intensely solemn. The mother, though forever deaf to human or earthly sound, seemed to hear a voice within. And while her own heart was swaying in sympathy with the child-sorrow that seemed too deep to hope or ask for any earthly aid, a voice seemed saying to the soul, "Be still and know that I am God." So awful yet sweet did the Divine presence seem that she dared not interfere with the grief she so unexpectedly had moved. A few moments the little suppliant, in words that have no record on earth, poured out her prayer, then arose with smiles of joy beaming through her tears, and said, "I am not afraid now, for Jesus loves me and I love Jesus." She then asked to be taken in her mother's arms again, while she repeated the Psalm. The mother again read and explained, but feeling all MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 163 the while that she was more the taught than the teacher, by this singular lesson of ready trust and faith in this child heart. The usual vivacity of Carrie returned, and after this event she seemed even more spiritual and buoyant than before. She was often heard by the children (all of whom could hear) repeat- ing or singing the above Psalm, and sometimes reading it in the Bible. The dreary chill that for a moment lay upon her happy spirit, was but the shadow of the fast coming event. She was taken very sick in a few days from that interesting Sabbath evening. When her parents manifested any alarm, she would very earnestly express with her fevered hands and face, that God made her sick, and she loved God that angels were with her, and she longed to put her arms around them. So bright and extraordinary were her visions, that her friends thought her mind wandering, until various test questions proved her truly con- scious, but filled with the Divine glory. She seemed to have a view of her upper home, and tried to give expression to her delight till her hands were stiff and cold in death. Such was the signal blessing upon the faithful labors of pious though mute parents. 164 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF LEAF FKOM A MOTHER'S JOUKNAL.. BY CRADLE-SIDE. It is when I turn to the mother's letters in the "Free Talks with Our Friends," that I feel I am indeed reading a "Mothers' Journal," "where page after page is presented, marked with the impress of the inner life. Cloistered in the profound of home, shut in from the sight and sound of the outside world, of what should the mother write, but of the workings of these secret springs of the moral being? Yet how few and faint the voices that ever come up from this obscure deep ! How many noble deeds and holy aspirations here have birth and death, and leave no record but in heaven ! And notes of woe, waked by some ruthless sweep across the exquisite spirit harp, echo round these walls and die unheard. It is here, to the retired and often desponding mother, that the Journal comes, with its words of love and cheer, and heart answers to heart in the free talk of editors and mothers. Here I would drop a simple leaf, a reminiscence, which may savor much of egotism, yet may interest from its connection with one by all esteemed I should add if I may but escape the mouth of MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL, the oblivious " waste basket " which yawns between us. It was one of the sunny days of July bust, that a little missive came from our good editor, Mrs. H., saying that she had "arrived in the country, and was too feeble to visit, but wished to see her early friend once more in the flesh." Within a day's ride and on the spot dear to us both by countless tender associations, could I resist? When weak lungs and home cares chimed in remonstrance, the stirrings of early friendship for once prevailed, "I can be housekeeper," said the oldest of the hopefuls. "I would like to be driver for mother," said the second. And the little ones? "I can take care of them," continues the first. Well, dumpling cheeks and baby lips press their mother's, and the good-byes are shouted as we ride away. We "journeyed and were sad" Is it ever thus, that a cherished pensive shade blends with all that is tender in our nature? The varied songs of nature, all blended in one low, dull hum, and the grand scenery of the Granite State seems like a vailed statue. I longed to rouse and feel, as once, its hallowed inspiration. Ay, the bow long bent springs not back at once. The " solemn footed hours " tramped slowly on. There it is at last, the dear familiar spot, !()() LIFE AND WRITINGS OF once my own paternal home, but passed to strangers now. The shade and fruit trees that I used to watch when tender saplings, bowing to the wind, how changed ! There are the tall elms that droop their long branches over my mother's grave. Stop -here, sonny, I must stand on that dear spot once more. Mother, thou hast long had rest. Thy toils and cares now are mine. We shall meet soon. Life's stern lessons are making their impress on thy child. Precious dust, early home, a tear to thy memory. A little farther on, and almost hid by thick foliage, is the early home of my friend. There she has stolen away from city toils to drink the mountain air and coax back her waning strength. Now I catch a glimpse of the white balcony on which we walked at summer twilight and sung to the echo of the hills. What a rush of tender memories ! what a strange thrill quivers over the heart chords ! Shall we indeed meet again? Will she, (forgive the thought) be the same warm-hearted Carrie of other years? I had never seen her as Mrs. H. I had not long to query. Hand grasped in hand, with stead- fast gaze we stood. "Is it C ? " she said at last. " Only her shadow," was replied. Another silent, motionless gaze. What, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 1(57 tears I but they would come. Was it rude, was it weak? We saw, indeed, the mask that time with its care-lines had wrought out, but there was " the face behind the mask," the heart beneath warm, fresh, gushing with pure and tender sympathies as in early days. That was untouched by wasting years. The electric glance of eyes familiar had unsealed those hidden founts, and their upspringing joys were quick and tumultuous. Would you control them ? Go, then, with rules of intonation to the babbling, leaping brook go beat a measure for the merry zephyrs "that dance among the trees. Would they not brook restraint as well ? But you smile at this enthusiasm, and perhaps we pity your want of it. But those deep, deep eyes I looked into, I see them still. There lay the volumes of the past years' history mater- nal, editorial cares but stay, my pen, this page must not be unfolded here. We will not tell you, mothers, how nearly we have seen life's early dreams fulfilled, but only add a couplet that will find response in your own weary hearts : " Choose of life's paths which one you will, 'Tis upward climbing, climbing still." 1G8 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF I CANNOT DISTRUST PROVIDENCE. BY CRADLE-SIDE, "No, brother," said a minister to a brother minister with whom he was dining, "I cannot distrust Providence, however deep I may sink into trouble." They had been conversing on the variety of trials through which a minister's path often lies, and as they moved back from the table, the conversation became more personal and definite. The first speaker was an Englishman, and true to the English character, had, during his acquaintance with the American family, where he had been stopping, maintained a general reserve in regard to his personal his- tory. He was now in deep affliction, having but a few months before buried a promising and dutiful son, an officer in the American navy, and one on whom he had hoped to lean in his declining years. He had* now just returned from the grave of his companion, alone but one relative and few acquaintances on the vast continent of America. The kind words of his friend ; the true sympathy he had shown him in his bereavement, had broken down the reserve of his great English heart, and he began MRS, CmUSTlAXA B, CO WELL. 1(3 ( J " I have seen too much of the care of my heavenly Father in my great extremity to fear that I shall be overwhelmed. In early life I was comfortably settled, with a pleasant home, a good business, a happy family. I was what we term in our country a local preacher of the Wesleyau Methodists, Such receive nothing for preaching, but labor through the week and go out in surrounding districts on the Sabbath and preach to a class of people who are not uble to support a minister. I had enjoyed good privileges of study, both in theology and medi- cine. For my medical practice, as for my preaching, I sought no earthly reward. At this time I became security for a friend, and through his mismanagement, my entire property of some thousands was swept away in one day. " My next move was to hire a tenement in the city of London, where my business would be a little more remunerative. I was hardly settled again when my son was taken sick, aiid unable to hire a nurse, I took care of him so much that I took the fever myself. Here again our daily bread was cut off. A physician was called, to gratify my wife, yet having studied medicine during a chaplaincy in the hospital, to which I had been appointed, I told him wherein I should choose my own treatment. He was one of the higher class in the city, who feel it 170 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF popular to ridicule the humble Christian and his Bible. He came in one morning and found me bolstered up in the bed, reading. 'Aha,' said he, 'getting well fast. What have you there?' 'The Bible, sir.' 'Oh, you believe in the Bible ! ' From this point a protracted argu- ment commenced with the infidel doctor, which to the honor of God I say it, resulted in a- favorable opinion of Christianity on his part, and a valuable 1 friendship to his humble patient. He took my oldest son into employment, refused all compensation for his services, and I was once more earning our bread. "Yet trials were not ended. My wife was taken very sick, and I was again nurse and attendant, until the la&t penny in my possession was spent for a little milk. I was a stranger in that great Babel of the world, without one penny, my wife at the point of death, and four little children dependent on me for food. I gathered my little ones as usual around me, gave them the last meal in the house, read the Bible, and committed them and my poor wife to God. w Now, brother," said the strong man, with a slightly tremulous voice, "this is a point in my history I have seldom revealed ; the world would think me romancing, and I should be looked upon as a lunatic. Yet it lives in my MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 171 heart as one of the tokens of God's faithful care, when the world's friends have forgotten us. ff The younger children were sobbing around their mother, she trying to comfort them, and to commit them to their heavenly Father, as well as assure them that their earthly father would care for them. I had prepared for her the last nourishment I had, when a loud rap came at the door. Now in London we know the character of a caller by the manner of their knocking. An inditferent business call is an- nounced by one loud blow of the knocker. But when the rapid triple knock is heard, we know a friend is there, who wishes and must come in. I opened the door, when before me stood a lady dressed in splendid silk, and hav- ing about her every indication of wealth and high rank, while her face bore an expression of tender, benign interest. ' 'Is any one sick here?' she asked. ' Whom do you want ? ' said I. 'Why I want to know if any one is sick,' she asked. "If you called to see any one you must know who it is,' I said, still evading the ques- tion, from mere amazement at the strangeness, of the atiair, for one so much above our rank to call on such an errand to our humble door, at such a time. LIFE AND WRITINGS OF "'There must be some one sick here,' she said, 'and I feel that they need my help. I must see them.' " Softened almost to tears by what seemed to me this divinely sent. evangel, I said very low, * My poor wife is sick,' and led the way to the chamber where she lay. She surveyed the room, walked around the bed, talked tenderly and piously to my wife, and laying her hand on the head of my little weeping boy, asked him if he could take a basket and go home with her. She then walked to the mantel, lay a full purse upon it, saying, ' This is for you, do not fear to use it.' What could it all mean? The little lad soon came back laden with little delicacies for his sick mother, The contents of the purse supplied all the wants of the family during my wife's sickness. But the sudden and myste- rious visitor could nowhere be found, and to this day I have never been able to learn from whom* this timely assistance came. I can only say the Lord has done it, and how can I dis- trust him ? " But His care did not cease here, and when her body was arrayed for the coffin, the last of the purse was exhausted. The expense of burying in London is heavy, yet I had not a penny to meet it. A lady in the house had done all she could, and I had gone alone into MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 173 the room where my poor wife lay unconscious of the difficulty that had come upon me. Again I committed my care to Him who had been my relief in time of trouble. Again a friendly rap at the door, and an old well-tried brother in Christ was there. : ' 1 heard you were in trouble,' he said. I led him to the silent room. ' Where shall you bury?' he asked. ' That is more than I can tell you, brother,' I answered. ' Who is your undertaker? ' ! 'I have none.' "'Oh! I see,' said the brother. 'You be quiet till I run over to Tottenhan Court road, I have a friend there who is an undertaker.' * ' But,' said I, c I have not a penny to pay him.' "I will see to that,' was the reply. ' Then the ground one little spot of earth in which to lay that form from sight would cost a sum which I have no hope of possessing for months or years to come.' ' ' I own one grave," said the good old man 'that shall be opened, and your wife shall sleep with my wife.' ' Thus, strange as the story seems to you, a way was made for me through the deep, and I once more turned from my little family in the morning, to earn their bread. 174 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF "Not long after Lhad resumed my business, and had nearly met the expenses that in my time of need the good old brother had taken upon himself, 1 was suddenly accosted by the doctor, who, by the way, had refused all recom- pense for attention to my late wife. " ' Don't you want a good chance for business ?' he inquired. " ' Yes,' I replied, ' anything better than what I have.' w ' Well,' he continued, * the office of librarian in a literary and scientific institution is soon to be vacant, and with your consent I will hand in your application.' " Can such a good fortune be mine, I queried, when left alone, after such severe trials of want and distress? " The day came when the com- mittee were to examine applicants. It was indeed a noble looking company, consisting of members of Parliament, doctors, lawyers, and those of the highest rank. The library was one of the richest in England. " On arriving at the place I found some forty applicants had preceded me, and the prospect for an unknown humble preacher and trades- man seemed not encouraging. Nearly the whole number had passed the examination, which was long and minute, and removed to await the final selection. Almost the last one MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 175 I was called to the stand, my letter read, my handwriting examined, and a multitude of ques- tions answered. ' Will my services be required on the Sab- bath?' I inquired. ' Why, what can call you away on the Sab- bath?' "I then told them I was a professor of religion, and wished the privilege of a few hours of public worship, that I sometimes preached the gospel to the poor, and could not turn aside from Christian duty for the tempting salary of the post before me. 'Who knows this man?' was the inquiry from the chair. "I know him,' answered my friend the doctor. He arose and said what he pleased of my character and abilities, and I was dismissed, only in a few minutes to learn that I was chosen to the valuable office of Librarian. * Here you see another way was opened for me, not only to secure comfort and education for my children, but a fount of intellectual enjoyment and instruction for myself. "Thus onward, sometimes to the last ex- tremity of want, again to the height of pros- perity have I been led, always upheld by the Arm which I am sure will never fail me now, though I am left alone in a strange country, without family or home." 176 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Amid the heavy darkness of skepticism which has so beclouded the Christian world, it is sweet to record such evidence of Divine care and love. Often in the blackest storms of life, when de- spair begins to utter its wail, there is a sudden bursting out of Deity, as sweet and welcome as that voice on the sea of Galilee, " It is I, be not afraid." TO A BROTHER CONTEMPLATING THE MINISTRY, BY C. B. CO WELL. Yes, I remember now, brother, That solemn, awful hour When thy soul in mortal combat Had closed with sin's dread power. How fears like th' low'ring tempest Rolled o'er thee, wild and dark, While grief like angry billows, Surged round thy spirit-bark. And when thy heart was fainting 'Neath gathering despair, How fervent rose the pleading Of tlmt anguish'd, contrite prayer r Then, oh, what strange vibrations Soft o'er thy spirit thrill, As a radiant form bends o'er thee, And whispers, " Peace, be still I " MES. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 177 'Tis done. The wrathful billows, Their Sovereign's voice obey, While to their dark-vailed chambers The storm-winds haste away. What glad, devout responses Waked that first song of thine, While all thy new-born being Seemed bathed in light divine. Thou art no more thine own, brother, For by that solemn vow Thy soul in holy life-bonds To Christ is wedded now. In th' hush of th' spirit-chamber, That voice is whispering still Of the high and holy mission He calls thee to fulfill. An august hand seems pointing Out o'er a sin-pail'd earth, Where countless hosts are groping The wild ring paths of death, Ah, starts thy timid spirit, And fearful shrinks away ? " Oh, what am I," thou cnest, " But feeble, sinful clay ? " Yes, weak ! Still round thee, brother, Are arms of love and might ; His presence shall go with thee, And He will give.thee light. And every soul thou winnest, Like stars of ray divine, In the crown of thy rejoicing With fadeless beams shall shine. 8* 178 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF And when thy steps are pressing Hard on the dark death shore, Then Christ will make its billows A glowing sapphire floor, O'er which, in glorious triumph, Thy trusting steps he'll guide, Safe through the shining portals, Just on the other side. Then, oh, what songs of welcome, Leap o'er the Heavenly tyre, As another earth worn pilgrim Shall join the upper choir. THE LAWYER'S STORY IN THE CON- CERT. BY MRS. C. B. COWELL. The interesting exercises of a Sabbath-school concert were nearly closed, when a kind, intel- ligent-looking stranger was called on for re- marks. He was a lawyer, just from the Court House, and had called to see his old friend, the pastor of the church, and with him had dropped into the concert. He alluded, in a very happy manner, to the gratifying change, from the tan- gled questions, dry logic, hard faces and harder hearts of the court-room, to the atmosphere of such pious intelligence, and the sight of so MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 179 many faces, glowing with youth, health and laudable emulation. He gave a brief history of his own labors in the Sabbath-school, which he had always loved ; spoke of the large numbers that at different periods had been under his instruction, as im- pressive, attentive little boys, that are now abroad in the world engaged in the great battle of life that all must enter ; then of the responsi- ble power of teachers, in fortifying the young heart against the fatal delusions they must meet, and inspiring to efforts for goodness and true greatness in after life. Young friends, said the speaker, fixing a kind but earnest gaze on a class of young ladies before him, you will soon go out from these dear home-influences, these precious church and school instructions. Each will stand alone in the world upon his own merit ! Alone you must meet temptations ; alone you must toil and struggle for the right! You will probably forget what I have said to-night you will for- get the stranger who stands before you ; but I am going to tell you a story which, I think, you will remember, especially when you are tempted to murmur at the ills and events of life which you cannot control : I have a friend liv- ing in B., who is the most self-possessed, even- tempered man I ever knew. Could you take 180 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF him in your arms and hold him fast until to- morrow morning, and his business might call him ever so urgent, yet, when he found he could not get away, he would be perfectly calm. No means that you or any one could use, would ruffle the smooth surface of his mind. "How is it, Brother Town," I once said to him, "that you take everything so quietly ? Have you no fretful temper in common with other men?" "Why, sir," said he, "I have a far more violent temper than you. Indeed, few men have such a hasty, impatient spirit as I." "How then," I asked, "have you acquired this perfect self-con- trol?" "I will tell you an incident in my life," he said, " which has had something to do with this matter : It was the 28th of August, 1826, a day memorable in the northern part of New Hamp- shire, that I was traveling in a stage-coach to the White Mountains. I had arranged my plan to be at the Notch House that night, and was very determined in my purpose. Rain had been falling at intervals for a long time ; night was coming on, and the mud was growing deeper, and the lumbering, creaking coach dragged slower and slower. I was impatient ; I was worse I was insolent. I would stretch my head toward the driver, and urge him to drive on, while the slashing, grinding wheels MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 181 and the wallowing horses plainly told me they were doing all they could. I made myself wretched and all who were with me. At length we came to a dead halt in front of a tavern, five miles short of my destination, and I was told we could go no farther. Then I was frantic. I plead with the driver, offered him two, three, then five dollars, to take me on to the Xotch House. But all in vain. I then found the landlord. I urged and entreated for a horse, offering as before, up to any reasonable sum he could demand. But he, too, was inexorable. "It is not safe," he said, ''for man or beast to be out on such a night as this. It will be a dreadful night," he said, shaking his head solemnly, and looking towards the mountains : " there is a hard storm gathering." I looked in the direction of his hand, as he pointed to a black mass of clouds that seemed rolling in toward the mountains, and hiding their tops from sight. Already the thunder began to roll in long rumbling echoes from peak to peak, and the occasional flash of lightning lighted up the scene, making the darkness more visible that succeeded it. It was a sight grand and terrible in the extreme. Had I been other than a wild tempered man, I should have been subdued into a profound awe before such sublime piles of earth and granite, lifting their heads among 182 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF the warring elements that seemed ready to burst upon them. Like a heavy armed legion, tramp- ing on to the deadly conflict, the surcharged clouds seemed marshalled for the work of death, while the peals of thunder signalled their approach, and betokened their terrible mission. With all this solemn grandeur before me, I could not calm the spirit-tempest within. I re- tired to my room, but not to sleep. I vented myself in wicked mutterings at this delay, and the probable result in deranging my business at home, the anxiety of friends, in short, the com- plete overturning of my entire programme for this trip for pleasure and business to the far- famed White Mountains. Of course I was in no mood for reverence ; I only wished the time away ; but fiercer raged the storm. The dark- ness from my window was fearfully lighted up now and then, by most vivid glare of electric flame. The thunder seemed crashing down all around me. I walked the floor all night, and at morning was the same impatient man of the night before. I rallied out very early, determined now that nothing should hinder the accomplishment of my designs. I walked on at a rapid step, when suddenly I came upon a large tree that had been torn up from the earth, and thrown across the way I was to pass. I stopped, gazed a MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 183 moment, and a slight tremor ran over me. Here was some of the danger the landlord fore- saw last night. But, too self-willed to admit the gentle rebuke that began to knock at my heart, I scrambled over the rough tree and hur- ried on faster than before. Soon, however, I found myself peering down a deep gully, that had been washed out by the mountain torrent, directly across the road. Had I reached this spot in the dark storm last night, I began to think ; had I plunged into the cold flood that was rushing along here, what? Ah! and I dared not think what might have been the consequence. Another chill went creeping along my nerves, and another rebuke began to knock at my heart. Still I would not submit, but bridged the chasm as best I could, and again hastened on, a little more nervous than before. I felt a solitude almost frightful. No living thing was to be seen. No sound was heard save the torrents rushing along from various points, thick with mud and broken branches of trees and shrubs, and mingling their hoarse voices, made the prevailing desolation even more desolate. Again I came to a sudden halt. Before me, and lying in the highway in which I was to get on, was a monster rock. It had been washed from its bed and rolled down the distant moun- 184 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF tain side, and here stood silently preaching to me its solemn lesson of the mighty Hand that holds the destinies of nations, who upholds the world and rules the elements. I stood amazed, almost petrified with fear and self-reproach. I looked a little farther on, and saw that it was im- possible to proceed. I looked toward the Notch House. From there up the mountain was the broad path of an avalanche, that had but recent- ly been torn from the side of the mountain. There I might have been, had my wish been granted. There, perhaps, the friends I wished to see were struggling with a terrible death. (This, as you know, was the sad fate of the " Willey family." Not one was left to tell the story of that dreadful slide, that buried them all beneath its ruins.) What am I, that I should have been held back from like destruction? Or that I should con- tend with the Almighty ? I sank on my knees beside the huge bowlder, and implored forgive- ness for my rashness and wicked rebellion against God, and covenanted there amid- that solemn desolation, with God and my own con- science, never more to resist Providence, or murmur at the disappointments of this short life. I arose, subdued and penitent. I picked up a little stone from the spot, brought it home, and laid upon my desk. Now said he, tak- MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 185 ing the stone in his hand when I am tempted to complain or fret at the petty ills of life, I take this stone and remember that vow beneath the mountains. This, then, is my talisman." Febnwry, 4th, 1862. Another painful death. Another darling boy torn from our love and lain silent and cold in the little shroud. Was it in wrath, O wise Father* that this blow was sent upon us ? Have we turned away from thy love and the great work of grace in which Thou biddest us labor, and sought for ease or earthly treasure? Have we joined ourselves to earthly idols and forgotten Thee? This we know: Thou doest right ; yet we sit under an awful pall. Sorrow like a flood sweeps over us in successive waves, with its dull, heavy roll, it bears down our frail spirit and we are ready to cry out, my heart, Oh, my heart, it is faint and weary with oppresive pain. In innocent child- hood he has gladdened our hearts and cheered the rough path of life. As he grew 7 in years, the developments of moral and mental powers were truly gratifying. Affection of unusual sweetness seemed springing up in his baby heart, which united day by day, more and more the hearts of the household. Sweet and fair in 186 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF features, amiable, active, self-sacrificing and affectionate. Oh, how we loved him ! How pure and elevating, how soothing and chasten- ing the love such a single heart. How imutter- c? ably deep the love that flows out toward such a treasure. No language can give utterance to that yearning pain with which our hearts cling to every spot ill his history, and to the dear memory of his short sweet mission with us. How sweet the hope that beams upon the dark vale through which we tread and pierces, now and then, the pall of sorrow and death and gloom that lies on our spirits, the joyous hope that we shall meet again. Never before, did I feel the great gift of the Son of God who has redeemed such as our darling boy from the cruel jaws of endless death. The struggle with the last foe was long and dreadful in the ex- treme. The low, piteous groans, the agonized features, seemed more than a frail mother's heart could endure. I fell on my knees before the Lord, and in tears and bitterness of soul besought Him to seize the little sufferer from the iron grasp of the cold death foe, and hide him in the bosom of His own paternal love. Take back, O Lord, the treasure thou hast given us, release him from this dreadful woe. The darkness such, as made the words of the dying sou of God, "My God, why hast Thou MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 187 forsaken me?" seemed the most fitting utterance ot our agonized spirits, as the heavy awful death shadow shut down upon us. Just as the last words of prayer for his release were uttered, the last dying moan died away on the stillness of night. "He is gone," was whispered from one to another of the kind watchers, whose eyes had been fixed on the distorted, darkened, agonized features of my dear boy. Dearly as we loved him, we could not much longer have endured this distress ; and the assurance that he was at rest was welcome. Such a scene ! may I be spared from its repetition ! Yet be- neath all this gloomy visage of death, there was a sinless heart redeemed from the primeval curse, by the great love of Christ, taking its flight from a world that had in store for him, in common with all pilgrims on earth, its varied ills of storms, disappointments, sufferings and temptations to sin. What then must be the agony of death, where there is no such hope to relieve the gloom, no Saviour's blood to plead, but only a fearful looking for the wrath and in- dignation of a long neglected and injured God, to fall into the hands of justice and infinite power when the last offer of His grace has been spurned ! " Who can abide the day of His coming? Who can dwell with devouring flames ? " 188 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF Our little treasure now lies beneath the cold snow, beside the little forms that have slept more than eight years in their low beds. How the bosom heaves with the heavy surges of grief, as we take the last look at the marble face, the fixed cold lips that have so often pressed our own. The high, full forehead, over which we had so often smoothed his soft hair, all so cold, so rigid, the tiny hand clasping the myrtle sprig lying so meek and motionless on his still breast, and just over his heart with his slender white finger pointing to it, lies a slip of paper on which is written, "Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." Long, long will its daguerreotype, in all its beautiful outlines, re- main upon the page of memory, sprinkled over and over with the tears of bleeding love. A TRIBUTE TO NANNIE SHAPLEIGH, WHO DIED MAY, 1862. Enwreathed in blooming flowers, Nannie, We've laid thee down to rest ; Thy cold hands holding roses Meek folded on thy breast. Oh, how our bosoms heaved, Nannie, With sorrow wild and deep, To have thee coldly lying In death's long dreamless sleep. MllSv CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 189 We miss tbee sadly now, Nannie, We miss thee when at prayer, We mis* thcc at our board, love. We uliss thee everywhere, There's sorrow in out songs, Nannie) For one sweet note is still ; No more thy soft child treble Will o'er our heart chords thrill, We miss thy plaintive moans, Nannie> With pains that would not cease, Till our very hearts in anguish Implored thy soul's release* But all is over now, Nannie, Thou'st joined the minstrel throug Of little shining pilgrims, In the land of light and song, Xow o'er our stricken spirits, There steals a hallowed strain, Thy own sweot voice seems breathing, " We shall soon meet again," [For the Morninjf Star.] ODE FOR THE TD1ES. A welcome, glad welcome, thou beauteous spring, With hearts tuned to gladness, thy welcome we sing j O'er the hills and the mountains, send forth the glad sound While vales and deep woodlands the chorus resound. Thou art here, thou art here, with thy soft, balmy breath. And the waters, long chained in the silence of death, Leaping forth with wild rapture^ send out their glad cheer Through the ringing old woods thou art here, thou art here. 190 L1FH AND WRITINGS OF And the fugitive birds spread their wings to the breeze, And away from the shores of the sunny south seas, With their songs of rich melody, joyfully fly, To swell the glad choruSj the springtime is nigh. And the invalid * miles a warm welcome, for now He will bare to thy zephyrs his languishing brow; And the life current leaps 'long its slowtmveled track, As the visions of health, with thy flowers come back. But the past I O the past I we forget to rejoice, As we give to the wild wintry tempest a voice ; Hear them whispering still o'er the echoing earth Of the comfortless babes by the fireless hearth ; Of the traveler lone on the tenantless plain, That, bewildered and chilled, sinks to rise not again 5 Of the mariner, wrecked on the ice-covered shore, Who will ride o'er the tempest-tossed billows no more, Where the wild flowers spring 'neath the unfurrow'd hill In his coffinless slumbers, he lieth there still. But hark I there's an echo more terrible far, 'Tis the deep rolling din, and the wild clash of war ; 'Tis the low dying moans from the gore-bedrenched plain, Where, wounded and pale, lie our dear noble slain. -Oh, tell us, ye winds, for ye surely were there To dry the death-damps, and to drink mem'ry's tear - Bring ye not the last sigh of their quivering breath, " Home, country and freedom," their watchword in death 'i Bear ye not the soft breathings of tenderness deep, For the loved, who will hear victry's shout but to weep? But the heart stricken household I Oh, spare us the tale, For the air trembleth now with the swell of their wail I We hear it, we feel it, and our very hearts quake At the thrilling dirge-music that the storm echoes make. Alas ! that so many must suffer alone, And lie, coldly sleeping, unnamed and unknown, But ye watch stars of Heaven I ye smile where they sleep, And your calm, silent vigils above them will keep, Till the "long roll " of Gabriel shall peal from the skies > To marshal earth's hosts as from dust they arise. Then woe to that traitor on whose fiendish head The gnilt of this fathomless sorrow is hud ! MliS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 191 Though sad is this strain, let it blend with onr song, And swell it with praises to Him who hath strung These. hearts so exquisite so responsive in tone, To Nature's wild music, and humanity's moan. C. B. COWELL. West Lebanon, Me., April, 1862. THE GREAT LETTER FROM " OVER THE RIVER." " Mother," said a little boy, " I wish I could know what little brother is doing and thinking now in Heaven." A mournful shade come over his face as he continued, "I miss him so when I come in the house, I can't stay here ; then I go out door to play, but I am all alone, out there, and then I feel as though I should cry, but I think it won't do him any good, so I don't." "My son," said the mother, her heart still bleeding with the wound in her affections ; for a darling boy had but a few days been lain away in the grave, "we must love the Bible now more than ever before." "Why do you say so," said the bereaved boy. " What if you and I," said the mother, " father, sister, little baby and Irving, were all beside a river, and a pale, silent boatman should come and touch our little Irving, and beckon him to follow him, we LIFE AND WRITINGS OF might entreat and weap and cling; to the darling boy yet all in vain. We must see him move silently and slowly into the arms of the ghastly boatman, and soon we see him borne off from the shore, griviujf back no answer to all our cries " O O of distress and yearning love. We all look after him till a thick mist hides him from sight. We may wander along the shore, and weep and watch, and strain our eyes to weariness by looking out upon the dark water that seems to have no bound or shore on the further side. To add to our distress, we are repeatedly told by all we meet, that none that puss over this mysterious water ever come back to us again, but we ourselves must soon be hurried away to the same returnless voyage. How we should long to know where these pale voyagers were landed. How we wish to know their employ- ment and condition. What would we not give to have some knowledge of that hidden shore where our dear household treasure is gone." "Oh, I see, mother, what you mean ; if it was not for the Bible, we could not know where dear little brother is now*" " Yes, my boy, that is it. It is the Bible that comes to us like a great letter from over this dark, broad river, that separates all mortals from the great eternity beyond. It comes from the King of that dis- tant country ; yes, the Bible tells us that little MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 193 children are in Heaven, and there Irving is, with the bright angels. Now let us think how gloomy it would he for us to sit here and talk about little brother, if we had no hope that he was still alive, happy, and living where we may one day go to meet him. Yet the poor heathen have never heard of the Bible, and know noth- ing of that beautiful land on the other shore. They have never heard, like us, how the Prince of that great country came and prepared the way, and left directions how we might find that glorious kingdom, where the cold death-man can never come, to touch or take us away any more," Know ye that your Father takes but his own, And the voice that now calls me is kind : That He brightens for you the path to His throne, And there your affections He'll bind. And when ye shall come to life's closing day, Ye shall bless both the staff and the rod ; And calm may ye pass as I'm passing awiiy To the arms of my Father and God, Oh, rejoice, that your Irving will linger no more In a dark world of sorrow like this ; But spreads his blest pinions to fold them 110 more, Till he lights on the bosom of bliss. I LIFE AND WHITINGS OF PARTING HYMN. To REV. J. M. F. AND WIFE, MISSIONARIES TO CHINA. Lo 1 a land long wrapped in darkness, Wearied with her dismal night, 'Pears far o'er the pathless waters, Pleading for one ray of light. Ye have heard her mournful wailing, 'Bovethe syren charms of youth ; Ye liave the high commission, T' bear far hence the lamp of truth, What though love is fondly yearning O'er the cherished household band, And the thousand ties that bind you To this happy -gospel land. Know that every one that yieldeth All these joys for Jesus' love, "Here, hath hundred fold in blessing And eternal life above." Go ; though conflicts sore await you, Weary years of toil and pain ; " He that goeth forth with weeping Shall rejoicing come again." And each soul that ye may gather, Shall, with radiance divine, In the crown of your rejoicing, With unlading glory shine. Go, and He who o'er the tempest High in Majesty presides, Marks tho pathway for the lightning, Sets the bound of ocorvn's tides. WHS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 195 tie will mark each tear thut falleth, Number every bosom thrill, Lay His hand upon thy spirit, Bid its wildest waves " be stilL'' firm through nil life's sad mutations , He's your pledged and mighty Friend, Sweet through every sorrow whispering, " Lo I I'm with you to the endi" WRITTEN ixm MISS h. rvs ALBUM. Earth has a thousand luring dreams, That like a meteor's flashing light Along life's pathway gleam, Then fades alas, in rayless night. But there's a radiance friendship gives, Sereiier far than Luna's ray, Than wanders 'mid the folding leaves^ Or on the sleeping waters lay. Long may its halo circle tlieo, And cheer thy kindly trusting heart 'Midst ills in life we know must be, When fortune frowns and 1'riends depart.. ON BOARD THE INDIAMAX, Saturday, Get. 29, 18&), MY DEAR MRS. GOWELL : I suppose you will have expected u letter from us long ere this, und I must beg your forgiveness for being so negligent. I have had much to do, and think 19 G Ltfii A:\D WRITINGS OF of, and many letters to write. I think I may assure myself of your forgiveness, and feel sure that this note will not be uninteresting to you, written just as we are starting on our long Voyage, and just as the shores of our dear America are fading from our sight. This, with others, I will send by the pilot. We have had a very pleasant, yet very sad time since we left Lebanon. It was pleasant to visit my sister, but oh, how hard it is to part with those We love ! Yet I trust We are in the path of duty, and have right motives in thus giving up eountry and friends, I long for a more earnest spirit and entire consecration to the service of our Redeemer ! We are very pleasantly situated. This is a fine ship, being' a fast sailer. Our fello\v-pas- -sengers appear very kind and agreeable, but we have scarcely had time to judge of them. We are anticipating a very pleasant voyage ; aud ' what a comfort it is to know that we are in the hands of an infinitely kind and merciful Father I Need I ask you to pray for us, and remember us, now that we are on the mighty deep? ' I know I need not. It is one of our greatest comforts to know that we are followed by the prayers of so many of the people of God, and have the sympathy of so many Christian hearts. I hope you and your family are prospering, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 197 You must give my love to your husband and daughter. The little ones will not remember me ; but I hope that each one will early give their hearts to God, and become bright and shining lights ! AVe have thought, several times, of writing what you desired, but have shrunk from it, and you must excuse us from writing it. For rny own part, I felt as if there was nothing in my own life that could be of any use to you. The memory of my mother is sacred, and to her I feel I owe much of what I am now ; but I have nothing very remarkable that I could write. How pleasant it would be, were you with us ! It seems a pity, when your heart is so much in the work, that the way has never opened for your going ; but God has something for you to do in your native land, and I hope the path of duty will be made plain to you, and that you will be the means in the hands of God of doing much for the cause of Christ. I must now bid you good-by, with much love and many kind wishes for your health and hap- piness. Mr. Farnham desires to be kindly re- membered to 3 r ou and family. Accept my kindest love, and believe me truly your friend, M. J. FARNHAM. 198 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF A STORY FOE BOYS. The evening fire was sending out a cheerful, O *1 wavering light in the reverend father's sitting- room ; the busy mother hud placed the small, square table and light in the centre of the room, which was the signal for all who had need of light to gather near. Two little witching boys had stolen up to their father's chair, where he sat looking vacantly into a nice blazing fire he had just been adjusting, while the tiny, brass head tongs hung carelessly from his hands. "Please, pa," said the oldest, "will you tell us a story? You look as though you were thinking out one now. Will you, please, pa? we are all ready now." No answer. " Wait a little, sonny," said the mother; "he is thinking very hard now ; better not disturb him." "What is it?" at last broke out the good parson. "Thinking? yes, I was thinking of our good neighbor Grant, whom I met to-day." "Please tell us a story, pa," chimed in the little pleader, with new courage. "A story ? Well, I will tell you about Mr. Grant, for I was thinking away back more than thirty years, when he and I were school-boys together. He was a fine fellow, sou of a sea captain, who had left the sea for a farm near by my fathers. There was something in MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 199 those days, my little boys, that you never saw, and I hope that you never will that was, ruin- drinking in a school ;. boys would give a penny each, and send to the rum store and buy it, and during intermission, would drink. " This was a shocking custom ; but there were no temperance lectures or societies, such as have since blessed the world. Well, my good fellow, Grant, was led hard on to trouble by a wild young lad named Foss. Although the son of poor but respectable parents, he became, through this practice of rum-drinking, which everywhere prevailed, a dangerous companion. Once I saw him with the young Grant, whom he had led astray, entirely helpless from the effect of their wicked drink." " Did you drink, pa ? " "I did, at lirst ; but for some reason, I felt such a dis- like to the appearance of those who took much more, that I abandoned it, and persuaded a few others to join me, although we had to endure the ridicule of both old and young for our strange notion. "Well, a few years passed on. I had been away from home, attending school and in business, and when I became a man I came back to teach in this same old school-house. There were these same boys, Grant and Foss, now my scholars, though grown to young men. It was not long before I saw that the same habits of early life were still clinging to them. They 200 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF were sometimes so affected with strong drink that they could not read or perform their duties in school. At the close of the afternoon, one day, I re- quested them to remain after the other scholars had left. When we were left alone, I talked with them of their habits, and told them of the fearful waste of time, talent and money it was causing them now, and the misery and poverty it would be likely to bring in the future. Grant relented, and said he was ashamed, and thought he should reform. Foss looked angry, and went away in sullen silence. Days passed on. Grant, again yielding to the effect of hiscomrade'ssneers and jokes, was again made a fool by strong drink, and came into school unfit for study. I felt that I must check this terrible influence on the school, which was not then addicted to the habits of earlier days. Again I addressed them tenderly, for I pitied them, but- firmly, for I felt the im- portance of my position. I exposed the dan- gerous effects of such habits, and especially told them how easily a young may, though reared in a good and pious family, who had a mother to weep over him, a loving sister to persuade, love and try to save him, yet by associating with a bad companion, would be ruined in a few days ; forming a good character was a long, slow and diligent work, but spoiling it could be done at MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 201 once. I finally told them they must quit strong drink, or quit the school. There was a long and hard contention between the two hale fellows. Grant entreated Foss to join him in his efforts to reform ; but in vain. He, at last, like a true- hearted, noble fellow, decided that he would leave his vile companion ; he believed there was something in their teacher's counsel that it would be safe for them to follow. Indignant at the de- cision of his comrade, Foss turned away, with profane, angry mutterings, declaring that he should leave the school rather than give up his drink. Grant continued to come to school, and a very kind, pleasant young man he was, be- loved by all who knew him. "Many years have passed since those days." "And where are they now?" inquired little Hervey, who had been looking with earnest eyes fill the while into his father's face. " Well, my son, Grant kept hi.s good resolution. He is now a steady, honest, respectable man, a worthy and beloved citizen ; when we met, the other day, he referred to those old school-days, and expressed much gratitude that he had escaped the dreadful end to which he was hastening. He has a large family of children and is, no doubt, trying to lead them in the path of virtue, temperance and truth." "But where is the other man that swore and danced so?" "Oh, 202 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF my son, his end was a dreadful one ! He had a good mother and some very lovely sisters ; but he made their hearts bleed by his reckless and wicked course. He ran down hill very fast ; he became worse and worse until he was a burden and pest to himself and his family, the dread and scourge of the neighborhood, until he died of delirium tremens." " Devil' 's trem- bles!" repeated the little boy in a husky, chocking voice ; " what is that, father ? " " Yes, Devil's trembles, you may well call it, my son, for the brain and the whole system becomes so inflamed by rum, that the poor, miserable man thinks he has a host of little demons with frightful horns and fiery eyes and tongues leap- ing at him, ready to devour him. It is a sick- ness too horrible to describe to little boys like you. All is, my little sons must never be persuaded to touch any kind of strong drink, not even cider. There, my little men, don't look so frightened ; nothing of this kind will ever hurt you if you drink nothing but pure cold water. This will make your head clear and strong, your steps firm, and you will move straight onward to a pure, noble, happy man- hood." MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 203 f HE LITTLE TEETOTALLER. "O mother," said little Ausel, running in from the street, " George says there will be a temperance lecture down to our school-house to-night. I want to go. Shall I, ma? You will let me, ma, won't 3-011?" "We will see about it, son." " He is going to have a paper, too, for everybody to sign their names cause they never will drink ; that makes them tem- perance folks. Now, I shall go straight up and tell him my name is Ansel Hayes, and he may write it down ; now shall I, ma?" "Well, my son," said the mother, scarcely suppressing a smile at the new zeal of her little boy, "perhaps you had better wait until you can write your name yourself, don't you think so?" "But, mother," said the boy, looking a world of alarm, "I shall drink cider as sure as the world." That is it, little lads, the drinks of cider is just the stuff to make drunkards of. Drink the clear, cold, sparkling water, and nothing else; then you will not want to run up to Farmer Jones' for a drink of cider ; you will not be tempted to stop by the little shops where ale and all kinds of drink are for sale. No sir, says your brave heart, right straight on is the word for me. No swaggering steps, no firey 204 LIFE AJVI) WHITINGS OF eyes, DO nasal blossom, no swimming brain, no shamed, skulking face for me. We feel the strength cold water brings, And that's the drink for rne. IN MEMORY OF MISS EMMA BROOKINGS, A HIGHLY ESTEEMED MEMBER OF LEBANON ACADEMY, VTHO DIED AT HEB HOME IN PlTTSTOX, MAY llth, 1859. Rtsptctfully inscribtd to Mr. Wm. T. Chase, by C. B. CowtlL The sun was slowing sinking, And his parting raj- Stole along the still apartment, "Where pale Emma lay All calmly ebbs life's current, Fainter comes each breath, One low sigh one gentle quiver She is thine O Death t CHOBCS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters Murmur soft and low, Earth's most tender ties are breaking, Hearts are bleeding now. Slow o'er the river pealing Came the funeral knell, (Oh, what tales of woe thon tellest, Tolling, tolling bell,) While to its solemn measure, With a pensive tread, To the quiet, grassy hillside, Bear we on the dead. CHOKUS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters Murmur soft and low, For ye touch a chord that wakens Saddest nieua'nes now. MRS. CHRISTIANA Ii. COWELI,. 205 Beside the flowing river, ' Sweetly will she rest, With her hands all meekly folded On her quiet breast. The birds now chant their requiems, Dewy morning weeps, And the watch-stars keep sad vigila Where dear Einma sleeps. CHORUS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters, &c. Roll on thy restless waters, Noble Kennebec, Never can thy rushing murmur Her deep slumbers break. No more at holy twilight, 'Long thy banks she'll stray, Blending with thy deep-toned music Her sweet vesper lay. CHORUS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters, &c. How heavy o'er the household Hangs the darksome pall, Whence has flown that joyous spirit, Once the light of all. O dread and swift-winged archer, Cruel was that dart Wounding 'fresh the bleeding tendrils Of each loving heart. CHORUS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters, &c. A glooin steals o'er the school-room Where the hopeful meet, Mem'ry broods, with drooping pinions, O'er her vacant seat. Her voice in plaintive echoes, Lang' ring sweetly yet, Wakes there in many a bosom Tenderest regret. CHORUS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters, &c. 20 G LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Oh, why should such rare flowers, Fairest of earth's bloom , Be the first to yield their fragrance To the cold, dark tomb ? Alas, that from our pathway Fades so soon the light Of that beauteous star, whose setting Brings the deepest night. CHORUS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters, &c. List through the deepening shadows Steals a hallowed strain, Angel Hope comes softly breathing, Ye shall meet again, In yonder glorious mansion, Lo, thy loved hath rest, And her spotless wings are folded On her Saviour's breast. CHORUS. Sweet zephyrs rolling waters Murmur soft and low. For a calm and holy feeling, Stealeth o'er us now, Oh, yes, we see the gleaming Of her angel wings, Now we catch the distant music Of the song she sings. Yes, we are coming, dearest, See we near the shore, Death's cold waves shall roll beneath us Never never more. CHORUS. Sweet zeyphrs rolling waters, &c. West Lebanon, Me, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 207 ANGEL CARRIE. I want to be an nngel, And with the angels stand, sang two little sisters as they were slowly pass- ing to their home on their way from school. Some one passing by attracted by their sweet voices and very happy faces, was listening. The older sister, six years of age, looking up and recognizing a kind neighbor, said, "I do want to be an angel. Oh, it will be so bright in heaven with the angels ! " These two sisters were not unfrequently invited -to walk out on the stage in their school room to. sing together ; the younger one was nearly five. The almost unearthly beauty of expression upon their baby faces added to the all-absorbing rapture with which their holy songs trilled upon the heart and ear, often drawing tears of nameless emotion from the listener. Their hearts seemed in per- fect unison with the pure spirit and inspiration of the songs they snug. These singularly pious children who seemed to belong to heaven rather than earth, were daughters of mute parents. Every mdrning they had been taught to kneel and repeat a prayer that an older sister had taught them. When gathered around the family board, each child would fold its hands 208 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF in silent reverence, while the father by silent signs invoked a blessing. When evening came, the mother got the little ones around her and inquired of each if they had done anything wrong. If the conscience is burdened with some little wicked act, the little face is covered with the hands and the child weeps. The mother solemnly impresses upon the heart the sin of offending a Holy God, whose eye has been upon them all the day. The little peni- tent falls on its knees and asks God to forgive, then, with its usual night prayer and mother's good night kiss, it is taken to its bed. There may be no difference to the observer in these two saint-like little girls ; but as Carrie, the older, has finished her angel mission on earth, it will be pleasant to contemplate her short but radiant path. The mother was asked how early did Carrie give evidence to this love of divine things. She wrote in reply, "She has seemed to love them ever since she could understand ; very often would come to me and ask me to tell her about God and her dear Saviour, which I always attempted, the best I could, to make her infant mind understand. She was always very conscientious very afraid of doing some- thing to displease God. She seemed, to many, to have been sanctified from her birth. She often said she should soon die. One day," MI1S. rinilSTIAXA B. COWELL. 209 writes the mother, "I met her in the dining- room ; she stopped me, and dropping her cheek upon her hand, indicated by signs that when she died and her head was laid on the pillow of earth, she wished to lie down by the side of her baby brother Charlie." The mother naturally saddened by this singular request of so young a child, made no reply. Carrie still held her dress and .looked earnestly in her face for a re- ply, and when the mother at last promised it should be so, her face was again all aglow with smiles and joy. About two weeks before her death, she came to her mother one Sabbath even- ing, and asked her to read to her the 23d Psalm. The mother took her on her knee, and began reading by signs. She smiled assent that she understood, and seemed to enjoy it until she came to the fourth verse, then as her mother read, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," tears came in the eyes of little Carrie, and she made signs by raising both hands, and with a sudden shrinking and shiver said she was afraid, and slowly slid from her mother's arms, and kneeling down, bowed her head on her little hand in her mother's lap. In a few moments she arose with a heavenly smile beam- ing through her tears, and said, "I am not afraid now, I love Jesus." She asked her mother to take her up and read the Psalm again. 210 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF She seemed perfectly delighted as the mother again portrayed in her silent, devout language, the care and love of the Heavenly Shepherd. From an older sister, Bell, we learn that Carrie was every day chanting this Psalm, and she was often seen by her mother reading it alone. There was no earthly car to hear that prayer, yet it had a quick answer from the blessed Saviour ; her heart was quiet from tfcie fear of evil, and even joyous with divine love. It was quite common for persons who had observed her unusual love for holy things, to take her in her arms and to draw out her touching and beautiful thoughts, by questions. A great de- sire to be in Heaven seemed always predomi- nant. Her school teacher was struck with her fear of doing wrong and displeasing God. One day she came running home from school, look-, ing veiy pale, saying she was sick. Her mother quickly perceived the symptoms of scarlet fever, and told her that God made her sick and He loved her. " I know it," she said with great earnestness, as if surprised that her mother should tell her what she knew so well. When her father came in the house she was lying on the sofa ; she waved her hand to attract his at- tention, then told him that God made her sick, and she loved God. Her father was surprised at her eagerness to dispel any anxiety he felt ; MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 211 she was sure all was right. Two days and nights the fever raged fiercely, and her distress was very great ; after which her mind was again calm, and her face shone with heavenly radiance. She called her brother and sister to her bed- side, and wished them to sing, "I want to be an angel." Carrie snug with them a few lines, but her throat was sore and she could not go on. When some mute neighbors came in, she point- ed up, and made signs that angels were around her, and extending both arms with an affection- ate embrace, she said, "How bright and beau- tiful, and she longed to take them in her arms." Her sister, ten years old, came in, who could hear, and she told her the same. The follow- ing evening her father was sitting by her, and observing a peculiar calm upon her face, asked her if she loved God. "Oh, yes," was the quick reply. Fearing that she might not understand his signs, he asked if she knew her father? she quickly nodded yes, then threw out both arms and put out her lips to embrace and kiss him ; and then with her little fingers stiffening in death, she spelt " house," then indicated she longed for the house. Her father, fearing she was delirious, said, "here is our house where you live." "Oh, no, not this" shaking her head, with an attempted curl of her lip, she 212 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF expressed how poor is this compared to the house she desired and longed to go into. He then understood she was beholding her glorious house on high, whose builder is God. Several times she raised her hands, trying to express the glory of the home she desired, saying she did not wish to stay here ; but her arms and hands were too stilT and weak ; and no hearing one was present to catch the words she would, perhaps, have uttered. Soon her mother came in with little Emma, who had been always by her side through their short, happy life. She wished Emma to sing, and Emma began, "I want to be an angel," after which Carrie repeated, "I want to be an angel," and soon after, with a glow of divine light shining upon her marble face, expired. The mother looked a moment upon the fallen chin, the upturned, vacant gaze, and when she knew she was gone, fainted. Yet she said, "When I came to myself, I felt an indwelling peace, All was well with the child ; and my thoughts were lifted to Heaven more than fora long time, so much so, that I felt it was good for me to bo afflicted. She was the light and joy of our household, and since her death we have felt so desolate yet peaceful. She is now with her Saviour, with a crown upon her head, and a harp in her hand, for which she has wished so Ions:." n. co\VLL. 213 TEMPERANCE DIALOGUE. FIRST SCENE. Father Lincoln, sitting dozing from e fleet of drink; two twin boys, sitting on either side of their father ; eldest sister, sitting with a book, trying to read, but very sad. Enter Katy, a younger sister. M"r>/. O sister, I am so glad you have re- turned, I am so sad and lonely when you are away. Katy. I fear you are sick, Mary. Mftry. Well, to-night the drear reality of our wretchedness has pressed itself so heavily upon my spirits, my heart has sunk, utterly crushed, crushed, our prospects are so dark. Ob, dear! But did you hear anything of our poor, wandering brother ; I imagine I hear his groans of distress on every wind that sweeps around the cottage. Poor John I fear he will never return. Kattj. No, I cannot learn that he has been seen since yesterday, when he was going towards the village. But don't grieve so, Mary. I called at Mrs. Smith's, hoping to get some sewing; she had none prepared. She thought she and Mrs. Riley would call over to-night, 214 Lifti AND WRITINGS 01 and perhaps take some of us. If we fail to get work in this place, you will consent to let me go to Manchester with sister Clara. There wo can do much more to cheer our home than here* Oh. I shall allow myself almost nothing, that I may send you all that I can earn, to help you through the winter ; I think I had better go. Mary. O Katy, I shall cry all the time when you are gone ; who will sing to us when it is dark, and pa don't come? Charley. And who will fix us for school, when Mary has ao much to do, and who will comfort us when papa beats us and Mary cries ? j^Iary. I know a long, cold winter is just upon us, and this old house, poor as it is, shelters us, but is not ours ; and six mouths' rent is unpaid ; I know that father and John are becoming every day more unkind to us, and have long ceased to bring us food ; they come from Kilby's tavern, and scold us because we have not such good, warm suppers as we used to have. I know, too, that friends have changed. Those who seemed to love us when we were at school, and father was an active merchant, and mother w r as here, now pass hastily by our cottage, just as though they feared we should speak to then. I. know we are forsaken and despised. But when you are here, Katy, your kind, cheerful manner sus- MltS. CIIKISTIANA B. COWELL. 215 tains my sensitive heart. Your sympathy opens its deep fountain of grief and its flows out; but when you arc gone, I feel that my heart will break, to be alone in this desolate, altered home. I know that I ought not to mourn so, it makes you so sad. Billy. We shall be here, sister, and you know we shall be so good to you, and try to make you happy. Kttty. Dear boys what will become of you. Enter Jenks. Jenks. Good evening, girls your father ut home? Katy. He sits there, I think it will be of no use to arouse him, he is not himself now ; he seems to sleep. Jenks. Umph ! More himself than anybody else, as I take it. Hullo, Mr. Lincoln, you dozy ? Lincoln. "What's that you say John come ? Jenk*. Have you got some money for me? Lincoln. Honey did you say? I rather have some cider. John promised to bring some. l> ///.-x. Cider - \vejl this don't look like paying rent, I'm thinking. [ have called to let you know, that another family, who will pay rent, wish to occupy I his house, and if you don't pay up immediately you must LIFJEAND WHITINGS OF Billy. Don't say wo must go out door this cold winter. Mary. O Mr. Jenks, must we hear you say we - Jenks. There's no use of crying now. A man must look after his rent these hard times. There are enough of these idle dogs to loaf about the rum taverns if others will support them. I am not the man to do it. Mary. Pray Mr. Jenks, for our dear little brothers' sakes wait for us a little longer. Katy. We will do all we ean I will sit up half of the night, will eat but one meal a day, until you are paid, if you will let us call this our home. Charley. And I will come and cut wood and do many things for you when I am large enough. Billy. I will work in your garden ; I think I can dig and pull weeds next summer for you. Mary. You cannot turn us out into this cold-hearted world, we can find no other shelter ; your heart will revolt, you will not, Mr. Jenks ; say you will wait ! Jenks. Why don't you put these boys out to live. Let your miserable father and brother go to the house of correction, where they belong ; why do you try to live here at this hard rate ? MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL, 217 Mary. Ah ! you would not speak thus, if you knew the depth of daughter's and sister's Jove ; your words wring our poor hearts. '"While there is life, there is hope." Is it not possible by our patient endurance and kindness, we may yet win back to the path of peace, a noble brother and kind father? O Mr. Jenks, you know what they have been ; you remember, too, how in a state of partial intoxication he sold to you and Mr, Kilby, his estate, far, far less than its value, that he might get money, by which he has gone downward continually. And that dear pale face, our mother, who moved among us like a shadow, meekly toiling for those, whom with all their faults she still loved, and for these tender boys, till nature sank and she was gone. Can we, tell us, let your heart tell us, can we turn our backs upon these, and break the tie that binds us to our dear, though altered home ? Jenks* Well well I wish there was no rum to be had ; take rum and cider away, and you would have a father to be proud of. I know that very well, although I like a little occasionally ; yet when I see what it has done in the world, I do say, I wish it was all in the sea. Fact is, I can't help pitying such girls as you, that have to suffer so much from it. But this is not doing my business, and I guess I 10 218 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF will see to that some other time, so good evening. Lincoln (rouses up). Who'se there? What, John come? got something to drink, John? Oh, somebody else bother to rnm. Enter Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Riley. Good evening, girls, good evening. Mrs. Smith. I have taken a small bundle of sewing for you, as you wished; but I shall not be able to pay you the money as soon as you desired. Mr. Smith says your family is owing him for a barrel of cider, a little brandy, and other articles, and I may get you to sew towards paying for it, as he can get nothing of your men. Katy. This indeed is a painful message at this most distressing hour. Just think what that cider has done for us. When my father commenced on that cider, he was a man, and brought the most of his wages to his family ; when he had drank it all, he was a demon, raving for more, and has spent the most of his days at the tavern since. But I need not dwell on this, you cannot feel for us. Mrs. Smith. Well, I told my husband that you would give us a lecture on temperance if we mentioned the cider. He said we must not mind that. If he hud not sold to your father, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 219 others would, and my husband must do some- thing for his family's support. Jfrtry. Is there then no conscience in this matter? can he thus push his victims down to ruin, and sustain his family with the price of blood, and tears, yes, of immortal souls, and feel no horror? Nothing 1 to disturb the slum- bers of his night? He may, but I hope you never will know how to sympathize with us. Mrs. /Smith. I have not called to talk about that now. My husband says you have some furniture and books he will be obliged to take for your debt if it is not paid soon. He has left off selling spirits and wants to collect what is due on old accounts. Charley. You won't take our little bed, Avill you? Katy. What made your husband leave sell- ing spirit? Mrs. Smith. Can't tell you exactly ; a partic- ular friend of his said there was something new coming up among the hot-brained temperance men down to Augusta, and to get off easy, he had better quit at once. Katy. What can it be ? Oh! Is there not some good coming? tiinith. Don't know anything more about it. Mr. Smith was quite fretty ; wished people might act their own principles. 220 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Lincoln. I say that let folks have their liberty ; I shall, I know. Mrs. tfmith. But we must hasten. Mrs. Hiley, do you think of taking one of these boys? Mrs. Rileij. I suppose, as you have so hard a chance to provide for your brothers, you would like to let Billy come and live with us. AVe shall take good care of him. Billy. O sister, don't let me go to Mr. Ri ley's. I heard him swear the other day, and talk just as pa does when he comes home from the tav- ern. You know I must not go with those who say bad words. Mary. We arc urged by every circumstance, the most distressing possible, to accept your kind ofler to take to your home of abundance one of these dear brothers ; but there is one thing which I wish to tell you, and it is the last counsel of our dying mother. One night, her last on earth, when Billy and Charley were ready for bed, she asked to have them sny their prayers with her, that she might hear their sweet voices once more, and give them up to their Father in heaven. Ah, she well knew that their earthly father had long since forsaken them. After they had bowed their heads by her bedside, and repeated the prayer she had learned them, she turned her dying eyes to us girls, with a look we can never forget. "Children," said she, "these minds I MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 221 leave in your hands, to train. Watch over them and the influences they are exposed to. If possible, keep them with you ; but if you are at last compelled to put them out to live, oh, be careful to let them go to none but temperate families. Will you promise this one thing?" Mrs. Riley. You of course promised. I am sorry to say my husband thinks it no harm to drink cider, and stronger drinks at times. He thinks, however, he is a temperate man. Lincoln. Yes, he is ; and so am I. We are good temperance men who dares dispute it? J/rs. Riley. He was pleased with Billy thought he would like to take him ; but did not think of this objection. Lincoln. Yes, let him go, girls ; what good will he do you ? J//-.S. Smith. You know this community is not very strict about these things. I think you will hardly find such a place for the boys as you would like. Katy. Better then that we all stay here ; and if we perish, it will be in discharge of a conscientious duty. Our cup of bitterness is indeed full. One sweet drop is in it still a good conscience. JitUy. If I was a man, I think I should like to have good meetings, and talk to people about temperance, just as sisters talk to us, when they sit here sewing in the evening. 222 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Charley. I got little George and Dick Grey to promise me not to drink one drop of their pa's cider. Won't they grow up temperance men, sisters? Mary. I think they will, my darling. I am glad you are trying Jo do good so early ; that is the way to be happy. Katy. I cannot help hoping the day will come, when this subject will be more consid- ered, and the evil removed. Mrs. Riley. I am very sure Mr. Riley would not drink so much if it was not in his sight. He says he knows he is better without it, and thinks every one is ; but when he meets others, and is urged to join them in drinking, he cannot refuse, lest he should he laughed at. I dare say he would not be sorry if spirit was out of the reach of all. I know we should have a very different, yes, a better community. Mary. Just think, ladies, of the evil it is doing in this town. The families (you know them, and I too, and to their sorrow,) kept poor and degraded, without the means of moral and religious improvement, wives and chil- dren suffering, Heaven alone knows how much. There are young men that pass well for fine moral gentlemen, when they are out of town and think they are not known, will indulge in the social glass. Oh, rny heart bleeds when I MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 223 think of the tender sisters whose hearts may yet be wrung as ours have been, at the fall of the best of brothers ! We know that they secretly but surely are passing downward the same road to ruin as others who now seem lost to all that is good and pure. You wonder why we speak so plain. John has often alluded to these well applauded young men (temperate, to be sure, they call themselves,) who have joined him in sipping the fatal poison, instead of taking him by the hand, and by word and example, leading him away from temptation ; are not such in great danger ? * -3/y-.s\ Smith. There is young Mr. Appleton, whose addresses they say you refused, Miss Mary, some time ago, just because he was not a true teetotaler. He has just returned from California, very wealthy, and purchased that elegant stand in Pleasant Vale. I heard brother say he still preferred you to any other, and thought you would not refuse such an offer if you could have it now. Katy. Did you say he was an exception to the general laxity of temperance principles in this place? J//>-. Smith. Why, I understand he won't sign a pledge, it looks so much as though one could not govern themselves ; he don't want to be bound. 224 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Lincoln. That's it he's the man I like for that. Mrs. Smith. Of course, if he now conde- scends to offer himself again to you in your present situation, it bespeaks an interest in yourself you cannot refuse. I shall expect to see you leave this home for Pleasant Vale. Mary. Your words are painful, Mrs. Smith. You do not know Mary Lincoln. Poverty and distress have indeed shaken and torn this poor heart, worn upon my health, but only rooted deeper my principles. I cannot, no, I never will" marry the man who is not strictly tem- perate. Lincoln. Law what a silly fool she is. Mrs. Smith. Well, you are a strange girl ; you must take your own course. I will take my work home if you don't like to take it. Mrs. Riley. I cannot help thinking if the men who do the business of the town and State, had the interest and viewed the subject as these girls do, the sale of spirits might be suppressed, Mary. O Mrs. Kiley ! Many long nights when I could not sleep for fear and anxiety, I have thought of the thousands suffering per- haps even more than we, and if I could exert any influence to remove the great curse, I could lay my life upon the altar, and my soul could calmly go to its rest, with the sweet thought that it had blessed the world. MKS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 225 Mrs. Riley. I feel that I shall talk more earnestly at home upon this subject, and labor for reform, especially among my children. I wonder we have thought so little about it. Good evening. Exit Mrs. Smith and Riley. Katy. 1 have been thinking of a dream I had last night, while you have been talking with these 'ladies. It left a pleasant impression on my mind. Mary. O sister, you are always trying to think of something new to cheer us when we are ready to despond. Charley. O Katy, will you please tell your dream ? Katy. I thought all of us were out near this house. Father and John were leaning against the house with arms folded, all covered with dirt and rags. "We children were very hungry, and searching for bread among some thorny bushes, which tore and wounded our flesh great- ly. Suddenly I heard a great sweeping, like wings in the air. I looked up, and a beautiful being like an angel was hovering over the heads of father and John. I could see big tears run down their cheeks, and they shone in the moon- light like silver drops. Then this angel poured something out of a golden vial which ran all 226 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF down over them, until their garments looked clean and white. Then there was a clear crys- tal brook ran from their feet across the garden, among the thorny bushes until they were loaded with rich ripe fruit so they bowed down with its weight. I waked so happy. I longed to go to sleep and drearn it again, it was so delightful. Mai^y. Ah ! our mother's prayers are bot- tled up. Katy. And will they not be poured out upon us, and father and John, when the tears of re- pentance shall unseal them ? Mary. O sister, the angel of hope seems ever whispering to you of a brighter future. You are like a star at midnight, ever hopeful. To me, it is indeed the midnight of gloom. There is but one thing that can bring us joy on earth : that is, the reform of our erring ones ; with that, we may hope for all of earth that can make life happy peace and plenty to flow from their footsteps indeed. I fear that can never be, while the temptation is before them. You know how poor mother used to go and entreat Smith and Kilby to refuse to sell that which sent misery to our once happy home, but all in vain ; they loved the coppers better than souls. There is but one alternative, and that is, the arm of our government with its boasted laws of justice and benevolence, would strike a blow MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 227 that would make a thousand hearts leap with joy and hope. That happy day must be far in the future, too far for us to enjoy. I need not dwell upon it. Hark ! is that John's step ? Lincoln. Did you say he had come John, that you Oh, how dry I am no, not come yet. Katy. It is Mr. Appleton and his sister. Mr. Appleton. Good evening, ladies. (La- dies reply, Good evening. ) You have changed your residence since I left town, I perceive thought I must find you. Katy. Great changes indeed with us, most especially. Our dear mother is gone, no longer able to bear the sorrows that became her lot. John you would not know, he is so altered ; and father sits there very dull to- night. Miss Appleton. I understand he treats you very unkindly. I often think of you. I know how happy we once were at school together. Alary. \Ve make no effort to hide the tokens of our wretchedness, they are all around us. You remember, Mr. Appleton, the last time you were here, after a long conversation with brother John, he said he could do without spirits and would sign the pledge if you would. You thought it folly to sign, and you would not gratify certain ones so much who had been so 228 LIFE AND WRITINGS' OF forward. Oh, sir, I think then you might have saved him ; he has gone on since, swift to degradation ; we cannot tell you how much we are distressed. Miss Appleton. Pity you had not, brother, for his sisters' sake ; you think so much of them, if nothing more. Katy. You know that father and John are very decided, if they would once promise us, we know it would be done. Mr. Appleton. Why, they need not have gone so far ; one may take a little wine out on a ride, or some particular occasion, and not injure him. There is no need of drinking like this. If some of our good farmers drink a little cider it cannot be any harm where they have so much. Lincoln. That's just what I tell um that's my mind exactly. Katy. Can one take a viper to his bosom, and not be bitten ? or a coal of fire, and not be burned ? Mary. If the germ of the upas tree be seen just starting from the earth, although a mere sprout, is it not the upas nevertheless? If it remain, will it not become a tree, whose blast- ing influence destroys every thing near it? Would it not be much easier and better to tear out the sprout, than the strong, and deeply- rooted tree ? MRS. CIimSTIAXA B. COWELL. 229 Miss Appleton. I think with yon, ladies, that intemperance is like the upas tree, poison- ing every family, and every community, in which it has a place. Brother and I cannot see alike on this subject. He prides himself, in his temperate indulgence in wine, as he calls it, but I do not, I cannot surely. Mary. Perhaps he thinks we are too earn- est. But is it not contrary to all reason and justice that such destructive influence should be permitted its unrestrained ravages among us? Can we feel its scorpion sting piercing our inmost soul, and taking by slow, sure robbery our dearest joys, and still be silent? No, we must speak out though kings were here. Miss Appleton. Does your brother follow any employment now ? Katij. Oh, no not steadily ; he has for a long time spent all he earns for drink. Mary. And then he has so changed in his manner towards us. I dare not think of it. It is ours to endure what with our utmost effort we cannot avoid ; yet we know there are those who can do something toward removing this evil. Mr. Appleton. Well, this is a view of the subject for which I was not prepared. I have scarcely thought that any responsibility for this state of things rests on me. But I cannot resist 230 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF your words. There is indeed something in this. I would this moment give half the gold I have risked my life to obtain, if I could go back to the evening to which you refer, and atone for the evil influence I now see I have exerted over your brother, whom I loved and esteemed in our early days, as one of the most talented in our town. I feel that 1 was wrong in neglecting a good deed, for motives unworthy a man such as I ought to be. Will you now accept a small sum as a poor recompense for your sufferings ? (Offering a purse.) Mary. No, Mr. Appletou, I cannot, without violating a principle inseparable from my very being. No, not gold, but your influence I im- plore, by word, and more by example. You say you have wealth : this renders you more efficient to the overthrow of the monster that is devouring us. Miss Appleton. There is much excitement in other places on this subject. I think I read last night about a debate in the Maine Legisla- ture upon a motion to confine the sale of ardent spirits wholly to agents appointed for that pur- pose. There is a prospect of a law to that effect. Katy. Are you sure? We might almost hope from such a law to see the dead raised to life. Mary. Don't be too enthusiastic, sister. This is most too good to hope for. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 231 Katy. Now, don't you remcnibor Mrs. Smith spoke of this ? You did not seein to notice it. I have thought much of it. Mary. Yes, sister : but our hopes have been so often dashed to the earth by false pretensions of temperance principles, that always fail in the day of trial, that I fear to trust. If our young, yes, and our old men, all, would do what they might, and were not afraid to cut off the cider tap, and morning dram, and would stand up, true, noble, Heaven-approved temperance men, I know the thing would be done. A whole- souled effort in a right cause must and will pre- vail. Mr. Appleton. I humbly confess a guilty apathy on this subject, for which I promise to atone by unwearied effort to encourage and strengthen the public sentiment which will cher- ish and sustain such a law. Enter Clara. "We live to meet again. Katy. Why, sister Clara, how unexpectedly you have come ! And here.is brother John how is this ? Clara. Brother John sent me a line to hurry home. I met him when I arrived in town, wait- ing for me. Mary. We will all listen to you, John. I 232 LIFE AND WAITINGS OF see a change in your countenance, if my heart don't deceive me, a good one. John. O sisters, dear, injured sisters, I know not how to begin. But where is father? can you not wake father ? Lincoln. Then you have come, John. Oh, how my head aches ! I have slept, but not all the time they talked so here. But why have you been gone so long? John. Well, I left home to get something to drink, and bring home, as I promised ; but I found the bars all closed against me, sale of spirit all closed up, on account of the new law. I raved I longed for vengeance. I strolled off to the village. There I could get no drink. I Avished for the strength of Samson, that I could bring down the house upon the whole as- sembly of the Legislature that had made such a law. Well, I passed on ; near the Town Hall I saw a crowd, and went in. There I heard the trial of a poor drinking fellow, who had fired a building. I saw before him a gloomy life with- in the prison walls. This showed me the folly and consequence o,f vengeance. This brought me a little to myself. I began to think of my condition and past life how near the sad fate of this poor wretch I had come ! I thought how miserable I had made my home and myself. I resolved at least to confess my wrongs to my MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 233 father, whom I had helped on in wickedness, and to my suffering sisters. I sent for Clara, that I might see you all together. I had now been without drink so long, I began to see things as I had not for years. Every face I met in the street looked reproaches into my guilty soul. I longed to hide from every eye. I wandered into the grove, sat down, and gave myself up to my own bitter reflections on happier days. The pale face of my heart-broken mother came before me, and the kind voice of her warnings and counsels seemed sounding on my ear ; then the midnight toil, the early wasting of my sis- ters' bloom, the good home I had helped to squander, all all just for what ? Just to wash my throat with liquid fire, and make myself u fiend ! O sisters, could you have known the agony of my bursting heart, could you have seen the scalding tears I shed, you would have forgiven your tenfold guilty brother. Mary. O brother, we always forgave you when we prayed. We have learned to forgive as we hope to be forgiven, and to pray for those who despitefully use us. John. Ah, I am not worthy of such friends. Well, I arose to my feet, called on the tall trees around me, that seemed moaning to the autumn winds, on the sinless birds that chimed a plaintive note as if in sympathy with my woes, 234 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF on all earth and holy heaven to witness my vows, that never, never more, would I raise to my lips the intoxicating draught. That now and forever my friendship with rum and all its kindred was broken. I started for the railroad station, with a strange calm something more like happiness stealing over my spirits than I had felt for a long time before. There I met a gentleman who passed me a copy of the late law suppressing the sale of ardent spirits. Katy. Is there then a law passed, printed and enforced? Mary. Pray read read it John ; our hearts scarcely beat for suspense. John. Will you please read it, Mr. Apple- ton ? My eyes are quite inflamed by weeping. Billy. And father is crying, too ; now won't the angels come, sister, that you dreamed about ? Miss Appleton. This is such a scene as an- gels might come to look upon. Mr. Appleton reads. John. Ay, Mr. Appleton, it was this law which but yesterday I hated that has been thrust between me and destruction. Could I have obtained it, I should have drowned in the treacherous bowl my thundering conscience, just as I had done many times before. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 235 Jl//'. Lincoln. Well, John, I've a groat deal more to repent of than yon. I have leu you into sin. But it is hard, amazing hard for a man grown old in sin to change and repent. Charley. O pa, you won't come home and frighten us any more, will you? You look as though you would not, dear father. Billy. Dear father, I wish you would love us as poor mother did and call us dear boys Lincoln. Ah, a poor father I've been to }"ou. Heaven knows I feel bad enough about it. Clara. One thing only is wanting to fill our cup with joy. That is. to hear you promise Avhat brother John has, father. John. O father, let a poor worthless son en- treat you to promise. Mr. Appltton. I cannot be silent, Mr. Lin- coln. I will give my word to be no more a. half way wine drinking temperance man. I promise, without reserve, to se$ my face against intemperance and use my influence to gain others to the cause, and I will sign the first teetotal pledge I see. Lincoln. Well, I am with you, Mr. Apple- ton. I will halt no longer. I mav vet agram / / c be a man. I promise that I will drink no more spirits^or cider, henceforth and forever. All you are witnesses. Katy. May Heaven be forever praised for 236 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF this happy hour ! The day has dawned and the day star has risen upon us. Mary. Oh ! that every cottage that has felt the withering curse of intemperance, could wit- ness such a scene as this ! May every hand, heart, and voice be awake to drive far-hence the hidra-headed monster until a trace of his infer- nal footsteps shall be found no more on the earth, but let it all be driven down to Hell together. All. So let it be ! So let it be ! MARINE JOURNAL. LIFE, OCEAN ; SHIP, The morning was bright and clear ; not a cloud in all the broad blue sky to vail the splendor of the^ rising sun. The breath of countless flowers floating on the gentle zephyrs came to us from every direction, and the songs of happy birds stirred all the crystal air with rapturous melody. Such was the enchanting scene that was slowly receding from our view as we spread our sail to the faint breeze and glided glowly out of the harbor of parental guardianship. AVe passed gently down the smooth channel of mental culture, flowing be- MRS. CHRISTIANA . COWKLL. 237 * t \vcen its high banks of moral restraint and home affections. The air became so still, the snails loosed from their masts, and our ship drifted with the gentle foVce of the current with now and then a dip of the oars of self-applica- tion ; yet even here we were told there were some small crafts that preceded us, which had met with trouble, by neglect or deserting the vigilance post, and suffering, through sloth, their boat to flounder in the sand near the banks and were lost ; and others, by crowding sails when the little vanity gusts which are quite fre- quent here sprung up, were capsized or greatly injured ; yet our helmsman, a young Mr. Vigi- lance, kept our vessel in the middle of the channel, and we passed safely through. The sun was getting high up in the heavens when we found our vessel rising and sinking with the swelling of the waves. We were now out on the broad ocean, the great heaving, throbbing, surging ocean. Far as the eye could see were vessels of every description, all moving over the same great highway. While many of our crew were standing on deck, watching the re- ceding of the distant shore, now like a mere thread lying along the distant horizon, some of the younger part of our company began to be very restless, complaining of the heat of the sun, the dry air, &c. Now and then came a LIFE AND WRITINGS OF sigh for the cooling grottos and flowery glades now fading in the misty distance. Just then a strange sail hove in sight, bearing towards ua with great rapidity. 'When she came alongside we plainly saw in large gaudy capitals on her flag the ominous device, "Live while you live ;" she swept past our more moderate ship, and we caught a sight of sparkling goblets and heard the sound of music, while all seemed life and hilarity. Just as young Mr.. Appetite and Mr. Presumption and several of their comrades be- gan to murmur at our slow progress, a venera- ble old man whose name was Wisdom, came on deck, looking mildly at the young men, then raising his cane and pointing away to the lee- ward, " There," said he, " are some dangerous breakers oft' yonder where you see the spray leaping up so high in the air." Capt. Decision, who had often been in consultation with Mr. Wisdom, now appeared, and led him to the helm, and gave orders to Mr. Vigilance, who occupied that post, to attend strictly to the di- rection of the old man, Wisdom. Scarcely was this done, before a wild gust like a black cloud was seen whirling along in the rear over -the waves and began to roar and rattle among our rigging with a frightful noise. Firmly the old man grasped the helm, as orders to take in the sail were shouted from the captain. On she MltS. (CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. tumbled, the gallant young ship, now plunging into the sepulchral trough of the boiling sea, now careering to the clouds on the mountain wave. " We are lost," feebly wailed a sickly Mr. Nerveless. "We are Hearing the break- ers," and leaving his post he sank down by the side of the hatch wa}% just in the way of the more vigorous sailors. Here a young man with very benign counte- nance and clear musical voice, a Mr. Hopewell, coming down from the foretop, where with his spy glass he had kept a constant look out, and modestly raising his cap he very reverently addressed the old man, Wisdom, still at the helm. "Shall we weather this?" he said in- quiringly. "Yes," said the venerable old man, " Every man at his post and the right man here." With a mournful sweetness of his voice he repeated, "Every man to his post and all will be well ; " there was a hidden meaning in his look. Here another whirl of the wind nearly prostrated the young man, who caught hold of the long garments of Mr. Wisdom, who still sat firm watching every phase of the storm. The winds played wildly with his long white locks, and fluttered his garments, which were wrapt loosely about him. "Another tack, now, straight forward," the helmsman shouted, "and she is safe." Soon the foaminir breakers wore 240 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF behind, and many were on deck, still tossed though we were, and intently watching the dan- gerous rocks, as they grew smaller in the dis- tance, and listening to the kind words of the old man, Wisdom. "Many a proud ship," said he, "has gone down there, and such is the dismal roar that comes up from that direction, superstition has called it the wailing of the poor lost mariners." " What name has been given to these fearful rocks?" inquired Mr. Seekgood. "They have several names : Temerity, Violence, Wrath, and such like." " What has saved us? " was the in- quiry of many on board. " Many, when setting out on this dangerous voyage," confined Wis- dom, "have listened to the younger sailors, and have refused to take experienced navigators, and have placed young Presumption, Appetite, and Love- wealth, and kindred characters, by turns at the helm. When dangers came they were quickly overwhelmed. Some have es- caped to own their folly to others, while many, alas ! the billows have swallowed up and they are no more." Here the captain cast a mean- ing glance at the bustling little fellows who had so much opposed the reception of the old man, Wisdom, and who cast such unkind and con- temptuous glances at his white locks, and the old worn chart that was always under his arm. CHRISTIANA tt. COWRLL. 241 He evidently wished to remind them how they had urged the importance of their own services at the hehn, instead of his. Ah! but for him whom they so much despised, and wished to re- ject, they might have now been dashing among the seaweeds that twist and whid around the charnel rocks of the ocean. Yet the wealth we possess in this venerable old man and his chart, was not yet developed. As the wav.es sank away, taking the spy glass and looking to the leeward, he observed a speck on the horizon. * We shall soon pass between two islands ; on one of these the Goddess of Pleasure Iras her magnificent temple and thousands worship there nt her shrine. On the other side of the strait is the Island of Avarice, under the government of a very cruel and oppressive monarch, who is descended from the family Lovelucre, a per- nicious root, from which has sprung several dynasties, under the various names of Slave- ocrats, Blood-burners, Face-grinders, Heart- bleeders, Soul-stealcrs, Xation-shakers, and, in fact, a large progeny from a powerful ances- try. With astonishing skill they continue to stregthe-n their kingdom and lure many an unwary mariner into their strong holds ; and when there, they throw around him the cords of unending vassalage. Near the further outlet, aud running 5 from either island is an immense 242 LIFE AND WRITINGS OP sand bur, called the Bankrupt bar. Without the most skillful management of the vessel be- tween the two, there is imminent danger of being stranded. Hence, any who go near either shore, are liable to be destroyed in very sight of land." By this time we began to see the island very distinctly. While we were gazing there came from the Island of Pleasure the sound as of many instruments of music, and beating of drums. We could discern her long, many-colored banners floating above the glit- tering turrets of her lofty domes. It must have been a gala day, for everything seemed life and motion, and shining in the greatest splendor. Just here quite an altercation took place be- tween Messrs. Appetite and Love- wealth ; the former was vociferous to go ashore on the Is- land of Pleasure, and the other to visit the Island of Avarice. They had long iinportun- ings with the captain, each begging as before, to take the helm and turn the ship in his own way, while the captain seemed moved by their earnest eloquence. A fair-haired boy, whose name was Con- science, with a clear piercing eye, drew near, and in a silvery-toned voice, addressed them. "Ye know not what ye ask. Had ye given heed to the words of the old man, Wisdom, or consulted the valuable chart which he bears MKS, CliiilSTlAXA IJ. OOWELL. 243 about him, you would turn away with horror and look not on the fascinations that arc spread out but to lure the voyager to her bone-white shore. There are deadly waves that forever dash and murmur along her banks, and none can pass over them and return again. She (shines to decoy, she lures to destroy, and thousands have rushed into the rapids that dash flic luckless Vessel on that fatal shore, while they are bound in helpless captivity, despair and deatn, and their bones bleach where heaps of victims lie, silent, ghostly trophies of the yyren's power." iSo deep-toned grew his voice, so unearthly and soul-stirring, and his eye beamed with such celestial tire, that the lis- teners quailed before him. They had not dreamed of the power that slumbered in that little lad. No sooner had he turned to the cabin below when young Presumption began, "All of this may be true, we will not attempt a landing, yet let us beseech the captain to take u sweep around a little nearer, that AVC may only see these magnificent structures and read the devices on those waving banners." It was agreed. The captain, wishing to be at peace with all, suffered the vessel to turn her majestic prow toward the bewildering enchantress. " How foolish the fears of that old man and his little favorite, Conscience!" said one to an- 244 ttFE AND WRITINGS OV other ; " We are safe enough ; how easy we can turn away when we see danger ! How proudly she leaps over the waves before the living 1 winds ! " Hark ! a low growl, what means it? Another and still another, a grinding, scraping' sound, each attended by a violent lurch of the ship. "Rocks! rocks!" shouted the captain. "A leak!" cries Vigilance from below, "To the pumps," roared the captain, and with a look of horrid dismay, he grasped the arm of Wis- dom, and cried out, "Oh, save us oifce more, and your counsel shall be regarded in future/' Suddenly a wild shriek was heard from below. Conscience had been apprised of the where- abouts of the vessel and began terrific cries and dismal waitings that thrilled every one on o * board with horror. In vain was every effort made to quiet his ravings. There was no where peace. The old man, who was now regarded as the living, infallible oracle, was now consulted in regard to what they should do For Con- science had awakened in every heart a fearful looking for the fiery indignation that awaited them. He then read from the old chart under his arm a prescription, which was immediately prepared, consisting of one part confession and two parts contrition, to be administered freely till quiet was restored. Strange to tell, as soon as we we were headed towards the middle of CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 245 the strait, and our vessel repaired by one Mr. Temperance, and peace restored, who should be seen slyly whispering to the captain but Mr. Seek-wealth, entreating him just to stop a few hours at the opposite shore. Time would fail to describe this hazardous adventure, how a skirmish ensued, and Conscience, still feeble, was severely wounded, and not able to perform duty for many days, and many valuables on board destroyed. Also difficulties were en- countered at the sand bar. Mr. Economy was constantly employed in taking soundings and thought it almost impossible for us to escape. After much toil, however, and great danger, we once more found our vessel in the open sea, Here we must pause and reflect upon one mournful sight, which left such a dark impres- sion, that the bare mention of it on board shades every face with gloom. It was a wreck, a magnificent wreck. While we were toiling and beating at the great sand bar, we heard the signal of distress, and looking toward Pleasure Island, a strange object was seen. On exami- nation through the spy-glass, our captain pro- nounced it a wreck of the fast ship that shot past us with the broad colors and the epicurean motto, " Live while you live.I' The winds were driving her hard upon the rocks ; her sails were half-mast, and now and then we 246 LIFE AND WAITINGS OF could hear the deep booming of the signal gun. A ship in distress, vet beyond reach of hope and help. She pitched, rolled now lost in the spray now trembling on the wave. " She's gone," said the captain, as he swept the glass along the misty horizon down the rocky shore, "nothing there to be seen but the waves lashing the rocks." Imagination alone, must tell the long story of their sufferings, their early folly in choosing such a crew and outfit, and their rapid course to their mournful end. None will ever come back to tell the story of their ruin. When we were once more freed from duty by a calm, with what deferential affection all gathered around the old man, and the now healthy and tenderly cherished Conscience, some at his feet, others took hold of his gar- ments, or caressingly drew a hand over his long silver hair, as he gave more minute descriptions of the various parts of the ocean. He often related instances of intense suffering, resulting from the inexperience of navigators, who, trusting in their own wisdom and strength, always failed to reach the port. He was wont to say, "Though the wicked join hand in hand, they shall not go unpunished." So de- lighted did we, become with these instructions, and the frequent readings from his priceless chart, that the former troublesome sailors began MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 217 to learn their folly and behave with more lie- coming grace. We had many storms of com- mon adversity to encounter, which sometimes left the crew greatly exhausted and our ship partially disabled. Thus we moved on, some- times beneath a scorching sun, then madly driven by tempestuous winds. Yet the sweet voice of Conscience, or the cheerful songs of Hope, made us strong in the belief that we should reach the Port, while the words of our venerable Counsellor, and the comforting prom- ises which he read, were the delight of us all. One day Mr. Hope came on deck with a rapturous glow on his face, and shouted at the top of his voice, " I can see the port." We were all summoned one by one, to look through the spy-glass, which he held. We saw a silvery crest lying along the distant horizon that assured us it was the long wished for yaven. Our vessel once anchored there, shall heave and writhe with old ocean's waves no more. She is old and shattered and cau endure but a few more storms, and we may all rejoice that we can soon bid her adieu, and go up to behold the King in his Temple, surrounded by a countless host, who have crossed the stormy ocean, and now, with palms of victory in their hands, and crowns of glory on their heads, are singing, " Allelujah to the King forever and 248 LIFE AND WRITINGS .OF over." Hope leaped for joy, and chipping his hands, broke out in a song of gladness so loud and clear, that it rang through the vessel, and was borue off by the murmuring waves and wind in almost entrancing cadence. "Listen a moment," said Wisdom, "I have one more thing to say, then I shall be silent. Just this side of yonder beauteous shore rolls a dark, deep gulf; we must pass over it, (called sigis mortis). The winds that sweep over it are so chilling that all on board become so benumbed that it is impossible to do duty, and, beside, there comes up such a mist we cannot see. Hence, pilots are sent by the King to pilot those who will surrender all to their care safely into port. Fear not then, when the cold winds blow around ; call for the pilot, and when once borne up the distant bank, you will suddenly start into new life at the touch of the reviving O air, and at the sound of the Harpers who fi^ all the Kingdom with the sweetest music that ever fell on mortal ear." While I beheld with speed surprising, Down in its depths they plunged from sight,. Gazing still I saw them rising, Like the angels, clothed in white, MllS. CHRISTIANA 15. COWELL. 249 SABBATH SCHOOL ENTERPRISE. FI1IST SCENE, The drunken father on the stage ; a lad sitting on the stage, reading ; sister near by sewing. Enter another sister, flings down her bonnet with a hasty, desponding air, exclaiming : Annie. Dear, dear me. How tired I am of the confusion, bustle, and excitement of this world ! I am every day hoping for something to make me happy, and am every day disap- pointed. Now I am positively tired of trying. Susan. How now, sister ; what has dis- turbed you? Annie. Disturbed! why it is nothing else with me. Here you sit, day after day, and sew and read, and talk to this and that little ragged urchin that you can see, and seem as quiet as you please. As for me there is no peace, no rest in this wide world. /Susan. I thought I heard your friend, Miss Gray say, that you were the very gayest of the party at Mrs. Haynes' ; you seemed always smiling and receiving attentions and flatteries of some of the most wealthy and genteel that were there. Ijittle Harry. What think poor little Susan Lill said to her brother, when you and young 11 250 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Alcott dashed by us, as we were going to Sabbath School last Sabbath? Annie. Some of your sagacious sayings, I dare say. What might it be ? Harry. She said she thought you could not be so happy, away for pleasure on the Sabbath, as her dear teacher was talking with her class in Sabbath School. She wished you knew Avhat a delightful place it was she believed you would come in. Annie. Oh, nonsense ! The Sabbath School ! That will do for you and lame Susan to talk about, now she is not able to go to parties, theatres, and such places, as a fiord real amuse- ment. Fine place would not it be, for a young lady of my cloth, who has her hundreds to spend for her pleasure ! Harry. I think I should never love you better than when I see you kindly talking with some poor little children that we see every Sabbath; I know you could make them so happy. Annie. Just see me now, your sister Annie. After I have spent so much time in learning to dance, and sing, and everything that would make me accomplished, and pre- pared to make a mark in the world, go and set myself down with a lot of little sleepy, dirty youugoues, telling them what m-a-u spells, and MllS. CHRISTIANA li. COWELL. what to do when Sunday comes ! There there I should not know myself in such a pew. Harry. O sister, there are not many poor little children in our school, and if there were, I should feel all the better to see them improving under your cave. But you may take a class of young ladies ; there are many you can have. Then I know they would love you so, and look so delighted to see you come in, would you not be happy then, sister? Annie. Happy? how could I be happy mumbling over the Bible all the week, studying out a lesson to make me appear respectable as a teacher on the Sabbath ? What chance should I have to read the new novels, as they come out? You know I have so many calls, parties, and rides now, I have not found time to read the last package that Mr. Alcott left me four or five weeks since. Pretty child this to go about such dull business. Not I. /Susan. Perhaps you will not desire to read such light and hurtful matter when you have begun a life of usefulness and study more im- portant books. Annie. But I don't believe anything of your nonsense and don't want to hear it. Hurry. But it must be so, Annie, for sister Susan has not wished me to read a foolish ro- ilrl LIFE AND WHITINGS OF mance (as she calls it) to her, since she has been able to sit up after her long confinement from that dreadful accident of the cars. Now she says she is very happy to sit and sew, al- though she has but little hope that she can ever walk again. She says she has just learned how to enjoy life. She feels far more quiet and happy to hear me read good books and tell her of the families where she sends me with the beautiful new things she makes for them. Annie. Nothing but a great show of charity. She knows she was not fit to enjoy the pleas- ures of society, or she would not have been .shut up here these three years. She wants to make a display in some way, so she gets these poor widows and ragged children shouting and fluttering and crying round her, just as though she was an angel, just flown down from a place where all is very beautiful. Susan. Ah, sister, part of your words are true, though painful from the taunt they meant, and spirit they bespeak. Yet I forgive you. You know not what you do. I know I was, and always am, unworthy of the blessings that I daily receive. Oh, how truly unfit for them, when I received them with such a hard, ungrateful heart as I once did. Harry. O sister Annie ! Susan wept a long time after you went out last night. I think it MKS. CHRISTIANA 13. COWELL. 253 was because you said such cruel words to her. But I did not wish to ask her : she seemed grieved to talk. jSusan. Sweet boy, I love your tender sym- pathy. I grieved not so much at my own wounds that sister inflicts, as at the sad state of her heart, and the sorrow I fear she will bring upon herself. Annie. Oh, what gloomy, sickly sentimen- tality ! I should go into consumption if I were confined to your company. In a few weeks I shall have a splendid house and servants all to myself, and Alcott says I shall be denied noth- ing that will add to my happiness that icecdth can procure. I hope to see some peace then ; not hear so much about my hard heart and blind heart, and the future world and such like. Harry. My teacher said last Sabbath, " He must make much of the present, for to-morrow was not ours ; and future things were hidden from us and everything was uncertain," but one, and that is death. Oh, here comes Mrs. Bridel that woman that was so sick. Please walk in, Mrs. Bridel. Enter Mrs. B., very tired and feeble. You look very tired, Mrs. Bridel. I fear you have taken too long a walk. Will you take my fan ? 254 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Mrs. B. to Susan. I am quite well, now, th:mk you. I thought this beautiful morning, I should be perfectly happy if I could reach your house, and talk with you and this dear young lad. You have done so much for us I can never tell you how much we are indebted to you. I could not have lived if you had not re- membered me in my sickness day after day. () Miss, when I he:axl your carriage stop at the cottage door I used to thank my Heavenly Father for such an angel visit. Your gentle, pious words always made me feel so quiet. /Susan. Is your daughter at home, that I have seen with you ? Mrs. Briclel. Ah, she has gone out now to find some sewing. She lost her work while I was sick, because she could not do enough to please Mr. Griffin. I hope she will find some, for I can help her now, poor girl, that she may get prepared to go to church again. You can- not think what a comfort my poor Jane has be- come to me, since little Harry first led her to the Sabbath-school. She would read such good books to me while I was sick that made me quite forget my sufferings. And now her father is not so cruel to her, but often sits a whole evening to hear her read. I know you will be blessed for your great kindness in our distress. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 255 /Susan. I have several garments fitted for some children. I will send them to you and Jane, if you wish. You need not look else- where for work at present, long as I am able ta carry on my present operation. Harry. I will carry the work, sister, and that new tract for Mr. Briclel, if you say I may. Mrs. Bridel. Oh, a thousand, thousand blessings on your precious heads. I will hasten home to tell Jane soon as she shall re- turn. May you live a long and happy life. .Good morning. Exit Mrs. Bridel. Harry. I am so delighted to see that good woman so well and happy. Won't they all be- come good now, that wicked man begins to like good reading. Susan. We must "rejoice with them that rejoice " and be humbly grateful for the great privilege of scattering a few flowers in the path of the lowly. Annie. Then you are dressing up a lot of children. I wonder what will be the next out- break of your charity. Harry. Don't, pretty sister. You know my teacher told us to go out into some of the back streets and see if we could not persuade some little wicked Sabbath breakers to come to the 256 LIFE AXJ) WRITINGS OF house down the lane, and when I asked them if they would go with me next Sabbath, they said they had no clothes. So you know sister .Susan has got help, and dressed enough for one large class, and that dear Miss Bruce is their teacher. Oh, you can't think how bright and pleasant they look at me when I see them. Now I have found some more that will be ready soon for another class. Annie, (tossing a new handkerchief scorn- fully). Here, Su, you are so full of good works, just hem this for me, will you? (Then, to Harry). Yes, yes, Harry, this teacher of yours is the one that has done the mischief. If he had not got you so tilled with his notions, you might have become quite polished by this time. Alcott says he would have made you one school and learn the Bible. I have been to the of the finest dancers in the place if yon had not left him. Here you have talked and read Susan into the same dull Bibleism and nonsense. You might have had as many gay friends as I have, and been as much admired and praised. How provoking. Susan. Did you not say, sister, when you came in, you Avere not happy? Everything failed to please you? A)t.n.ie. Well, what if I did? So I am tired of the world and vexed with everything I see in it. But I could not endure to live as you do. S. rnmsTiANA B. COWELL. You h;ivc not tried it, sister. You cannot judge. Enter a boy and leaves a letter and retires. Annie. Heigho, a letter for me; so it is, Alcott; yes, Alcott's hand writing. (Reads silently.) What! Gracious stars ! (Lets tall (he letter.) Have I come to this! (Harry takes it.) Yes, Harry, read it. Perhaps I dream is it real? Oh. horrors! (Harry reads.) Miss AXNIE, There is a deperate satisfaction I feel in this last and only oppor- tunity of lettting you know the truth, that dis- guise is no longer possible, I have been one of a secret bund for plunder and gain in eveiy way possible. This you will hear perhaps before this reaches you. When I learned the immense wealth of your family I thought to gain your favor and win over the little pet Harry to join our ranks, and through his unsuspecting, and unsuspected disposition gain our purpose on your unconscious father. But the detestable Sabbath-school and the sayings of that teacher of his, has been like a hateful bulwark around him. We could not gain him by flatteries or promises. He alone has saved your family. But it is all out now. V We had a traitor, and I know there is no hope, but to suffer the penalty of the law. 1 have 253 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF always expected detection, but hoped to brave it a little longer. I know now there is nothing more for me in this world. Hope you will not attempt to see rue. I could not bear the look of that pious sister of yours. She has often haunted my conscience with her solemn words ; yes. I have a little conscience left. I was once with a good, kind sister, under good instruc- tion. I was first led away by these same com- binations that have proved my ruin. By the most flattering prospects of wealth and unre- strained pleasures, I ran away from school, and joined hands with the wicked to do evil. I have seen my good sister weep over me, but in vain. Alas ! she now sleeps in the grave ; and my parents this stroke will break their hearts. My conscience has sometimes goaded me to break away from these wicked bauds. Yet the love of life kept me on. revel- ing over a wretched heart. Xow the worst must come ! This partial confession to you has for once unlocked the fountain of tears. I weep freely the first time for 3'ears. Oh, the past ! The early, innocent past ! when I might have heeded the voice of instruction, and led a happy, useful life. Alas! all is lost gone forever! My imagination pictures now that lovely Harry, whom I shall see no more, clothed in light, guarded on either side by a wall of fire, which MILS. CHRISTIANA IJ. COWELL. 251) that lame sister's and teacher's influence and prayers, keep burning bright, looking calm and firm rebukes into my writhing soul. Yes, I sought his ruin, and not his alone. But 'tis past ; yes, I meet my deserts. I shall be tor- mented, while scores and hundreds shall rise up to crown him with laurels of honor, gratitude and love. But I wander my brain reels. Farewell forever. Yours no longer, AI.COTT. Annie. Oh, what disgrace ! what meanness ! I thought I was miserable as I could be, before. How can 1 live? Jinrnj. Jx't us rejoice, sister, Chat we have escaped from the dangerous snare that was lain for us. Summ. Yes, for us. How much more trouble we might have had ! Is it not a kind Providence that has saved us? Annie. Now I suppose you think I have my pay for taunting you so much. I hope you will not treat me as I have you. Su9cm. ^o no; far from it. It was your own conscience, not I, or anything in all my deportment, has suggested that thought. I believe you may yet mid the true way or road to happiness. (looking out the window). There 2l)0 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF goes Miss Gray. How coldly she looks toward the house ! She was to call for me to walk with her. Ay, how she has changed ! I could not have thought she would have passed by, so strange ! Susan. We don't know who to call our true friends in the day of prosperity. But nevermind, sister, true happiness is not in the flattering attention of friends. Annie. Ah, I know I shall be slighted and despised. I wish I had never been born, or never had seen the deceitful fellow. You told me never to trust a young man that would gamble and break the Sabbath, for those habits were generally attended by worse ones ; but I did not believe you I wish I had, but it is too late. I thought you wanted to afflict me. Enter two ladies. Harry rises. Harry. O Misses Rice, will you be seated? Miss fiice, 1st. We called to give you a little report of our mission the past week, as we promised you. /Susan. I am most happy to see you. I hope you have prospered. Miss liice, "2nd. Oh, most assuredly we have, beyond our expectation. For (he little children that Master Harry had gathered into the school, there were many books and various MttS. CHRISTIANA . COWELL. 2(Jt Articles wanted, which we supplied from the sum you gave into our charge. We then found those poor little orphans tit the bottom of Briar Lane, almost without bread and clothes. The oldest girl Could read and sew. After two days we had them clothed, tind a pious woman en- gaged to oversee the work we left for them until next week's visit, when we shall leave books, and enter them in the school. .Hurry* Dear little children no father or mother. Miss Rice, 1st. Their mother was dead, and their father had not been heard of for some weeks. They must have been scattered in the wicked world, if we had not found them, where nothing but iniquity and sorrow was before them. We found, too, a good gentleman, who noticed our mission, and put into our hands twenty dollars. This was soon disposed of, in clothing and feeding the hungry and destitute. Oh, our hearts ached to see the amount of kind and generous feeling hid up in such filth and rags such a desire to be and do better ; but they knew not how. /Susan. The blessing of those ready to perish be upon you. fifitss Rice, '2nd. We were much affected by the story of a little ^Willie Bond. He has been in the school, and seemed truly pious, for six 262 LIVE AND WRITINGS Off months past. During this time, his mother said lie was in the habit, when he came to the table, of clasping his hands, and asking the divine blessing. Last week his father came home from sea a rough, profane fisherman, When he sat at the table, the little lad meekly closed his eyes, and raised his little hands, and began in a low, solemn tone his usual invoca- tion, when his father jumped up, enraged, and asked him what it meant, Words were followed by blows, and the little saint was persecuted and forbidden to come to the table, and ate in a corner alone. Some days after, the cruel father heard his meek little son alone in his room. He drew near, heard him pray- ing for his " dear father." He listened till his sailor heart grew soft, and the big tears rolled down his weather-beaten cheeks. When the boy aroae, he was clasped in his father's arms, and told to pray all that he pleased, and for his poor wicked father too. A happy family they are now, through that little faithful lad. We wept together with the good mother, tears of joy and gratitude to the Great Author of all good. Miss Rice, 1st. Those sick widows, too, are slowly gaining. When we set down the little basket of comforts you sent to Mrs. Hoff- man, she clasped her hands, and said of you, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWEl.L. " When the car heard her, it blessed her ; and she caused the widow's heart to sing for joy." Pier blessing seemed so sweet and warm upon us also, it was worth a day's dusty walk to obtain. Annie. It seems that you find happiness without seeking it, while I have been all my life time seeking it, and grow every day more wretched. Miss Rice, list. Ay, happiness is a way-side flower, not the object at which we aim, in our path. Annie. Pray, tell me then what is your object ? Miss Rice, 1st. Seek the good of all, the injury of none. Miss Hice, 2nd. To know right, and do it : love truth, and seek it, and sell no moment but in purchase of its worth, either in improvement to ourselves, or the good of others. Annie. And you are quite happy, and feat' nothing of to-morrow ? Jliss Rice, 1st. We try to do the duties of the day, and calmly wait the morrow have nothing to fear. But we must leave, as we have some writing, to keep an account of our expenditures. So, good afternoon. Annie (to Susan). What a strange class of beings you have round you ! Here you are 2lM LIFE AND WRITINGS OF attending to all this business, can't walk n. step,- yet much happier than I have ever been. Oh, here is father. Enter Father, with a newspaper* Father. Well, Annie, you are at home then ? Annie* Yes, indeed ; I shall never want to be seen in society again I am so deceived so sad. Father. Then } r ou have heard of the arrests. .Rather bad business rather bad. I did not think Alcott was one of them, surely. Annie. But he has many habits that some call wicked, father. You know he disregards the Sabbath, uses profane language, and plays cards, and such things. If you had taught me to count these us indications of an unsound character, and taught me to observe strict moral principles in the choice of a companion, I should never have encouraged his addresses ; no I should rather (walking across the stage showing much uneasiness). Father. What I what ! Do you mean to blame me, because you have been deceived by a rascal? (stamps.) Do you say I have not taught you right, when I have denied you nothing. I have given you every means for happiness and knowledge, and told you to make "MRS. rilUlSTIXXA B, COWELL. 265 yourself happy as you could, aud choose your own amusements, ooly keep in respectable society. Is this the return ? Do you menu to rebuke me if I choose to play with cards ? Annie* Forgive me, father, I only meant if I could feel aud think as Hurry and Susan do, j Father. They have take their own way. I have taught them none oi' these odd notions I have not been pleased with them* You know that it is in yourself that I have taken pride, I have delighted in your accomplish- ments, and the praises I have heard lavished *ipon you, Harrg. It was at the Sabbath School, sister, that I learned to love that which was good and turn away front bad company, Susan, Had I not been kindly afflicted, and shut out from your gay amusements, I might never have turned a deaf ear to Harry's kind words, and been as' you have been. Annie. But don't you know, father, that Harry goes every day in some street of the city, with books and cakes, talking to the children, aud has already, with Susan and some other ladies, clothed and gathered into school scores of children, and some wicked fathers have been reformed aud become good and happy ? LIFE AND WRITINGS OF Father. My Harry? Is it my Harry? I have often heard of a little missionary among the children ; saw a notice of him in the paper last week, that he was a remarkable child, very much beloved, and some of the poor peo- ple thought he came down from a better world than this is, every morning, and went back every night. He was called good Harry ; but I did not know it was my Harry. Harry. Oh, Father ! then you are willing for me to be the children's missionary ? (Taking his father's hand). SUSAN WAKEMAN AND THE INFIDEL. It was a sultry day in summer. A young woman, erect in form, with an earnest counte- nance, and rapid step, was passing along the paved walk of the busy -street of London. Her face, flushed with the heat and long walk, bore marks of a genial spirit within, blended with an ardor of temperament and firmness of pur- pose characteristic of a business woman reared amid the noise and stir of London. At a very early age she was left without a mother, and as soon as she could be of any service, was taken into the store with her father. Here she ac- MttS; CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 2G7 quired that acquaintance with human nature, that self-reliance and dignified independence, so Valuable to her when cast alone upon the world. After her father's death, through the kind inter- est of an uncle, she was employed by a parasol and umbrella maker, where ehe became so skill- ful at her trade, and evinced so much of a busi- ness turn, that she was promoted to first-hand in the shop, This prosperity was not long en- joyed ; for she pursued the fashionable pleasures of life, at the theatre, dancing-hall, and other gay circles, where her brilliant wit and pleasing person brought many professed friends thus finding favor with her worldly-minded relatives. He who lighteth every one that cometh into the world, made way to her benighted heart. Up to the age of twenty-one, to use her own words, she was a ^perfect heathen," She aimed to maintain moral respectability, which involved a contempt of all forms of religion t except that of the established church. She was prostrated with severe sickness, and taken to St. George's Hospital, where she lay, just quivering with life's faintest pulsations. The physician, after linger- ing awhile by her couch, whispered to the nurse, * f By midnight she will be gone." Although ap- parently insensible, her quick ear caught the fearful words, and repeated, "'Gone!' Where am I croinof? Am I to die? Where shall I 268 LIFE AND WHITINGS OF go?" This was the first solemn thought of eternity that hud pierced the darkness of her mind. She had, indeed, a vague idea of her mother in her coffin, and a friend lifting her to look upon her face, saying, "Your mother is in heaven, and if you are good you will go to her." This was all, of a religious character, that she had ever heard. She now longed to speak to some one about the dark future. At midnight the crisis was past, and she took, with relish, a little nourishment. Yet she waited for the usual round of the minister with painful anxiety. She had turned with scorn from his former visits, and was deaf to his words ; but now, at his ap- proach, she looked wistfully to his face, and in- quired, "Where shall I go when I leave this world?" "God has a chosen people," said the clergyman, " and if you are on^elected to grace, you will be safe God will take care of His own." "But if I am not of the elect I am lost, am I?" "God has ordered all things ac- cording to His infinite wisdom, and we cannot change His holy purposes." This, with similar remarks, plunged her deeper into darkness, un- til her distress became almost intolerable. She had heard that Christ died for sinners, then why not for poor Susan ? she said. In this state of blindness she had so far recovered as to leave the hospital. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 269 Not long after, as she was passing along Queen street, she heard the voice of prayer, and eager- ly pressed her way into the chapel where the dissenting Methodists were engaged in worship. She took a seat near the door, as she thought unnoticed. Upward rolled the fervent, agoniz- i ng prayer for souls unsaved . " Whosoever will , may come and partake of the waters of life. Draw that dark, trembling soul to Thyself! Open to their eyes the great overflowing foun- tain whereall Judea and Jerusalem may wash and be cleansed ! " She trembled violently ; it was for her that prayer was going up, she said, and I will pray. She sank on her knees, and in sobs and tears repeated the publican's prayer, until she saw the fountain filled with blood, full, and free for all, and felt that she was cleansed therein. Here commenced her connection with that body of people so devout and blessed of God, yet persecuted by the longer established churches and the people of the world. As has been in- timated, Susan was made to feel all the bitter- ness that such a connection could call out from a scornful world. No one in her circle of rela- tives to sympathize with her, she was turned out, homeless and friendless, as fit only for a mad house. Cast down, }'et not destroyed, she at last found employment, at her trade, and 270 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF secured a room with a pious friend, where she had the privilege to prepare her own food, and lodging. She had succeeded in laying by some three and one half guineas, by the closest fru- gality, and went out thankfully to her labor, asking no more, if she might not eat the bread of idleness, and be not cut off from communion with the people of God. Her room on Bond street was opposite a store with a large window for displaying goods. Just as she had arrived opposite thi* large win- dow, a culprit fleeing from the pursuit of the officers, dashed past her, plunging the ends of the umbrella frames she had in her arms, straight through the vast pane of the window. Almost paralyzed with the suddenness of the blow, she stood in silent contemplation of the shattered glass, when out rushed the owner of the establishment. With loud oaths and threats he demanded immediate pay for the broken glass. "This was the work of a man," she said, " who has just ran past with officers at his heels." "Who will believe that lie, madam," said the infuriated merchant ; " there are the very things in your arms that has been through the glass. \ "Let me step in out of this crowd,'' said the trembling young woman, " and I will explain." With oaths he led the way inside the store, and confronted the accused \ MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 271 with withering look and burning anger. " I have not the sum you claim," she said, after calmly explaining the accident. "Yet unjust as your demand is, I will bring you all I have, and work for the remainder." "Yes, likely," lie says, " if I shall see you again if I let you off with that promise. I shall keep this bundle till you return with the money." She replied that this was all the means she had to live. Yet the angry man was inexorable. Leaving her bundle on the counter, she was passing out when amid curses, she turned, looked steadily in his face, and in a solemn yet tender tone, said, "Remember, sir, you and I shall meet again at the judgment seat of Christ." "Ah," he shouted, "you are a prating Methodist, are you? You will get no more favors for that," With eye of pity, she said, "I shall go home and pray for you, sir, for your danger is great." She went to her room, out of hearing of his muttering tones, and shut herself up alone with God, and prayed just as such a lacerated, trust- ing heart might pray. The next evening at the regular class-meeting, Miss Wake man at the close, related the interview with the profane merchant, and closed by requesting the sisters to pray for the poor lost man. Old sister Man- ning remarked, "God will be in this affair, you may trust my word." Somewhat comforted, she 272 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF returned to her room, and again shut herself in her room to pray. Her simple breakfast was scarce completed next morning, when she was told that a gentle- man awaited her at the door. What was her surprise to find the merchant with the bundle of work. "Good morning," was the salutation, with an attempt at stern dignity, ft l called to say, as you were dependent on this work for your bread, I would give it op for the three and one-half guineas you said you had in your possession." The money was advanced ; and he had passed a few steps from the door, when turning with an air of aifected indifference, said, "Miss Wakeman, shall you pass our way to- day?" "Yes," she said. "Will you give us ti call ? " was the hesitating reply. He seemed struggling with emotions which he wished to conceal. With this singular request he passed rapidly down the street. We may imagine the feelings of our humble seamstress as she plied her needle in her little room. Now and then a tear of gratitude to her Heavenly Friend dimmed her eyes, or fell upon her work. The last stitch was at last set. With face bespeak- ing a calm and holy trust, she once more stood before the counter of the merchant. After some indifferent questions about her work, the pay she made, i&c., were respectfully answered, MRS. C1I1IISTIAXA 15. COWKLL. 273 he, at lust, as if by a desperate effort, broke out resolutely, maintaining that same air of indifference. "I believe you said something the other daj about praying for me, did you?" "I did sir; I promised to pray for you, and I have kept my word." " Then you think there is something in this praying, do }'ou?" " God can hear and answer prayer,'' was' the calm reply. Looking sternly in her face, he said, "Well then, I hope you will just pray that I may get a little rest to-night ; for I have not slept any since you was here the other day." "That then is the answer to my prayer. God is calling you to repentance, he wills the salva- tion of your soul. As you value life more than death, I entreat you not to turn away from Him that speaketh from Heaven." His face was pale, a free perspiration stood on his fore- head, and with tremulous voice and a forced levity, repeated, "You just pray that I may get some sleep, will you, ma'am?" "I will pray that God may prepare you for the great day, when we all shall appear before the judg- ment seat of Christ ; " and with these words passed out of the store. The next day and the day following as she passed on her way to the shop, the store was closed. The third day, feeling some anxiety, she passed very slowly, hoping to see some one of whom she might \2* 274 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF inquire, as she had noticed the day previous thut the knockers -on the door were muffled, and she had no doubt that the sin burdened man was the sick one within. She. passed and repassed on the opposite sidewalk until the door was opened and a servant girl Ciime O ut. She inquired who was sick. "My master is very sick," was the reply. "He is constantly raving about the judgment seat of Christ, and about that money. He talks all the time." "I think I know the cause of this raving and worry. When the physician comes again, please ask him if I may see his patient, and please tell him what I have said. I will come to-morrow and hear his answer." On the following morn- ing she spent some half an hour with the kitchen maid before the doctor came down from the room of his patient to give an answer respecting the proposal left with the maid. When the doctor came in, and learned who the caller was, he said sarcastically, "Then you think you have more skill than we have. You suppose you can cure Mr. Perkins ? " (the mer- chant.) She said, "I think he may be suffer- ing from some mental trouble, and I might bo a benefit to him if I could see him." "Well, well, walk up," said the doctor; "let us see what you can do." No sooner had she entered the room than Mr. Perkins stretched out his MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. hands exclaiming, "I know it \vas wrong, it was unjust you shall have it back again every penny." As soon as Miss Wakeman could be heard, she said, "I have not come for the money; I do not want it, and more, I shall never take it back ; so pray think no more of that, think of your soul, yield to the spirit that has been teaching you the way of life and true happin. "Madame," interrupted the doctor, " we don't need any preaching he're now ; if Mr. Perkins wishes anything of the kind, we will send for the Dean of Carlisle." " Who is the Dean of Carlisle," said she, "but an Infidel, sir, like yourself. Is it not true that he has only strengthened you and this poor sick man in your rebellion and rejection of the true light, in your secret meetings?" As might be ex- pected, these bold words stung a little too deeply in the conscience of the doctor, to allow any further development of his private associa- tions. Although he had opened the door with an air that seemed to say, you can retire now, yet with solemn tenderness, she continued, "Beware, doctor, how you stand between this immortal soul and endless life; a solemn, fear- ful requisition will be made at your hands in the da^y of judgment." As she turned to the door, the sick man be- sought her not to forsake him, for he was a 276 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF I poor lost man. Promising to call again, sho went down to the kitchen, and prayed and con- versed with the servant. She found there was no Bible in that magnificent dwelling, and left word to the master, that the word of God must he in his house and that 'his wife, who had been sent away on account of some disagreement, must be restored, before she could hope, or encourage him to hope, for favor with God. Soon after, she learned that the wife had been reconciled to her husband, also that his distress was even greater than ever. " I am lost ! I am lost ! " was his mournful cry. Miss Wakeman read to him such portions of the scriptures as, " Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." "What is that? Paul the chief of sinners ? Was he ever so great a sinner as I? Yet he was saved. There, now I see a faint gleam of hope just breaking into a crevice of the dark dungeon in which I have been groping ; yes, a little light. Perhaps I may yet find mere}'." After pointing him to Christ as the great mediator, she offered prayer for the penitent seeker, his wife, the happy kitchen maid, and other attendants being pres- ent. The events here described, occurred some forty years since, when Wesleyan Methodism was in its infancy. Then it was no uncommon MUS. CHKISTIANA B. CO WELL. '277 thing for females to be ordained as preachers, having their appointed circuits, and they \vcre instrumental in winning many to Christ. Father Bunting, Robert Newton, Adam Clark, and others, under whose ministrations Miss "\Yake- man had lived, encouraged personal effort by all Christians, male and female, in every lane of life. The fearless adventure of Miss W. was no new feature of those times. On the faintest dawning of hope, the merchant was hurried away to a watering place, many miles distant, and thus all means of learning the progress in his new life were cut off. Miss AVakc- man did not fail, however, to remember him iu her prayers. Months passed, when she was hap- pily surprised by a letter written in behalf of the maid she had first seen on the steps, by which she learned that the maid had attendcr her mas- ter through all his sickness, and by excessive care and watching, became prostrated and was with her mother in Gloucestershire. She had enjoyed great peace, and was now ready to de- part and be with Christ. She expressed un- bounded gratitude to the friend who first point- ed out the way of life. Her master, she said, had gone to Heaven, strong in hope. He had made some provision for her in his will ; and had often been heard to say, with deep emotion, that he thanked God that his window was 278 LIFE AND WAITINGS OF broken by the umbrella frames of a devoted Christian, which was the means of saving' his soul. Both master and servant died rejoicing in hope ; fruits of the persevering labors and prayers of a humble female. Miss W. was ever seeking like opportunities of usefulness, often speaking to the stranger in the street or shop about the interest of the soul. It was her custom to go out every Sabbath morning, for the purpose of dropping religious tracts into the hands of such as were violating that holy day ; and many through her labors were brought to a knowledge of Christ. She came to America, where she died a few years since, a member of a F. W. Baptist church, the wife of one of its worthy ministers. EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. XK-VV YORK, JAN. 5, 1860. MY DEAR CHRISTIANA, You had a long epistle from my heart, as soon as I read your precious letter. But I can only write a little even now after this long time. How ashamed I am of not writing, when you could write, watching with the sick. But how can you do s.> much? are you made of iron? Your little sketches, the "dream" and the "serenade," are M11S. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 279 just what we want : they arc the singing of the heart from a mother. Oh, how I wept over them ! The more, I suppose, because it took me to the time when you and I were girls, studying at the old Academy. How little we knew then how happy we were. I enclose three dollars, to encourage you to write us some more of the "singings of the heart." Wish we could afford to offer you enough to make it an object for you to write ; but ours is n labor of love, we do not make any money by the Jour- nal. Write when you can. Yours with much love, C. O. II. NEW YORK, MARCH 2, . MY DEAR AFFLICTED FRIEND, I have been waiting a few days, since receiving yours, to write you a long letter ; but I cannot do it to- night. What words could I speak that would be of any avail to you ? None but the blessed Jesus can comfort you, and I feel assured He will. Your darling has gone a little before you. The Lord doeth all things well, but how mys- terious. I enclose in this, five dollars for your articles, wish we were able to double it. Shall we hear from you again ? Do not exert yourself too much. May the choicest blessings rest on you and yours. I know you will be sustained, my dear precious friend. Good bye, CAROLINE. 280 LIFE ATsi) WHITINGS OF LINES WRITTEN A FEW DAYS BEFORE HER DEPARTURE. September, 24:th, 1862. Another birth clay. Forty-one years I have journeyed on earth ; but now my pilgrimage is almost done. Two years I have been coughing and failing, and now am just on the brink of the grave. On the 3d of February a darling little boy, Eu- gene, sickened and went to Heaven. The blow and the care so prostrated my feeble frame, that I thought the hour of my release was at hand, and rejoiced at the bright prospect which was before me ; but my hour had not yet come. From that time to the present has been a scene of suffering with me, vain for me to attempt to describe. An ulcerated throat that destroyed my voice, rendered whispering painful, and the taking of food and drink almost an impossibility. Poor frail nature shrank from the prospect of such u lingering, suffering death as was before me, and often was ready to cry out, " Father, if it be possible let this cup pass." Long I labored to submit, and grace at last prevailed ; and now I would not choose my manner of death ; for I feel that my Father is dealing with me in love. He has gently borne me down almost to the grave, my strength is almost gone, yet He is .MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. 281 no;ir me day and night and keeps my mind in perfect peace. For several days there has been a beautiful view, like a panorama, stretching out before my inner vision. I see a broad bay, its waters sparkling with sapphire, gold and purple hues. Its splendor is beyond the mid- day light, on its farther banks I see the glit- tering domes of a vast city. Oh, glorious City of our God ! Its walls are sparkling in the eternal light of the divine glory. September, 26th. Last night, whenever I awoke, there was a green tield spread out be- fore me, the clean grass so smooth, the field so broad and beautiful, my silent soul would sing, " Sweet fiolds beyond the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living green.' 1 Thus has the long night of sickness been now and then lighted with a few bright gleams of the land to which I am going. Sometimes I have made several fruitless attempts to swallow cold water, but have set down the glass with the glorious vision springing up before me, of the crystal fountains of life that forever sparkle and leap in the light of God's eternal love; no parched lips, no fevered brain, no more pain or death. The day before her death she wrote, "I know the pain and loneliness you will feel when I am ijone. It seems to me that I shall 282 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF often come and look upon you. May Heaven bless and comfort yon all ; for yon have spared no pains for my comfort. I thank yon for your constant kindness. Some of you will soon fol- low, no doubt. Oh, I pray above all things that 3 r ou may be ready ! Pray daily." UNDERBILL CENTRE, VERMONT, JULY 8, 1861. MY DEAR AUNT, I unexpectedly learn that you are quite sick, and declining. I can truly say I am sorry, for I have always prayed that your health might be preserved and your life prolonged many years, that you might do much more good still. May the Lord bless you and be to you as precious in affliction as he has been to you in health. I trust you will find Him much more so, for He is a very present help in the time of need. " Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord will deliver them out of them all." One week ago I took up the Star. I looked for C. B. C., and found the ar- ticle entitled "Angel Carrie." I read and wept, wept and read, then closed the piece and wept. I have read other articles of yours equally as touching, but peculiar impressions concerning you, bore upon my heart at that time. The next I hear from you is that you MRS. CHRISTIANA B. CO WELL. 283 are languishing. How much I have been cheered by your pen when forlorn and weary, among these Green Mountains. Dear aunt, may a good share of Heaven's best blessings rest upon you, that if your flesh and heart shall fail, God will be the strength of your heart and your portion forever. Amen. SHEM. In April, before her departure to the land of rest beyond the river, in October, her voice failed so she could only be heard in a low whis- per. So anxious were her family and friends that she might recover, the most skillful physi- cians were consulted, who thought that a change of air and climate might be beneficial in restor- ing health, much more than any medicine that could be prescribed, if it was possible that health could be restored. Having a sister residing in Schenectady, Xew York, and a brother in Fort Dodge, Iowa, and kind friends in places between, who were all very solicitous that she should undertake a journey west, es- pecially her brother and sister. Arrangements were made, and in June she started for Iowa, stopping in Lawrence and Chelsea a few days. 284 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF She then went to visit her sister in Schenectady. The change of air and the journey seemed to revive her so much that she indulged in the fond hope that she should be able to visit her brother in Iowa ; and in July 15th, she wrote as follows : DEAR HUSBAND : I have just received this full letter from brother Lorenzo, one page of which, containing a repetition of directions, I have cut out. I am in haste to get it to you, so I will not stop to write much. The dreadful soreness of my throat proves to be a large ulcer which broke yesterday. My throat is still sore, yet relieved of the acute inflamation. I have used poultices every night, feel quite smart to-day, and can speak a little by great effort ; but don't think it safe to try. You see brother L. has made the way quite plain for me to go west. What do you think? As to strength, I am as well able (and more so) as I was to come here ; and these resting places among friends look quite comfortable ; but I much rather have compairy, yet am not afraid to start alone. Is it possible for you to come and go now? Is it best for me to go? It is a decision for life; perhaps I maj r last long enough to see you all MRS. CHKLSTIANA B. COWELL. 285 settled there, and thereby serve a better pur- pose than my poor life can otherwise do. Yours in haste, C. B. C. Extracts from a letter dated Aug. llth, 1862. DEAR HUSBAND : My throat is so bad I feel unxious to be at home ; as I cannot have com- pany for a week or two, hence it seems necessary for me to send for you. Come as soon as you can ; perhaps you may get this so I can get home Saturday night. Don't be alarmed about me. It is all my throat, which is covered -with little ulcers, and is very hard to bear; yet my strength must be failing, and I think the sooner I am at home'lhc better. Yours kindly, C. B. COWELL. Saturday morning she started for home, although very feeble; arriving in Boston, she consulted a lung physician, who, after examina- tion, did not give much encouragement, but ordered Hypophosphites and some other medi- cine to give temporary relief. She went to Chelsea, and tarried with a very kind family over the Sabbath, whose kindness was often referred to after her arrival at home. Monday she arrived at home, and was received by re- joicing as well as weeping friends, to meet again LIFE AND AV1MTING8 Of upon the shores of time. She continued failing until the 8th of October, when with the setting sun, she departed, as calm and serene as the sun hides beyond the western hills, to her long sought and expected home in Heaven. During her long and distressing sickness, not a murmur was known to escape her lips, often conversing with her companion ^yith a smile on her countenance, as though she was about to start on a, pleasant journey. At one time, while he was sitting by her bedside, taking her by the hand, and seeing her flesh had almost all wasted away, he said, "O Christiana, the worms will not have much to feast upon, but there ia enough left to be made immortal." With a Binile and heavenly glow upon her countenance, and a halo of light around her head, it seemed as though angels had come to take her home. Such a sight he never saw on earth before. Before her departure she. gave directions as to her funeral, and being inquired of, what text of scripture she would like to have a sermon preached from, remarked, that during the long nights of distress, she had often thought of the land of rest, where she soon expected to be, MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. that there would l>e no night there. Sermon preached by Rev. E. True, to a large congrega- tion. Text, " And there shall be no night there." Singing at the grave by the choir: "Sister, thou wast mild and lovely." Why should I stay when thou art gone, The sunshine of my life ; How can I bear to meet alone, The conflict and the strife. [For the Morning Star.] DECLENSION OF ZION WITH OMENS OF GOOD, While again to plaintive numbers, I yield my harp's long silent string, Standing amid her desolation, Of what but Zion can I sing ? Once did thousands like a current, Toward her happy borders flow, Saying the Lord of hosts is with you, And thither let us also go.* But who'that to the combat rushes, Nor force with adverse force couipares,f But what when mighty foes assail him, Is slain or worse dismayed, retires. Thus fearfully, the foes of Ziou, Have broken through her walls and gates, Her half equipped, unwary soldiers, How coward-like her ranks for*iikr. 288 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF And many hurps whose holy anthetn Rising to heaven, the faintest cheered, Are hung neglected on the willow, And her sweet minstrels disappeared. Her watchmen Ah ! who knows their sighing, While with slow and mournful tread, They pace her walls, and blow the trumpet, II' yet they may not wake her dead. But cease, my heart, this sad bemoaning, E'en now, I hear the watchmen cry, There is a distant chariot's rumbling, Thy king, O Zion, draweth nigh. He hath beheld a prayerful inceuse Ascending round his holy throne, And comes to lift the heavy night-pall That o'er his bride hath lingered long, Then wake, O Zion, ope thy portals, Let thy glorious Lord come in, To walk majestic through thy palaces. And make thy sanctuaries clean. C. B, C, * Zach. viii : 23, f Luke xiv : 31. MRS. CHRISTIANA B. COW ELL. 28J AWAITING DEATH. AN INVALID'S SONG. BY CRADLE-SIDE. Awaiting death, yet not with dread. No gloomy spectre haunts my bed, No lurid wings above me wave No ghostly hand points down the grave. No, all is light, one clear pure light, Deep in the heart, burns day and night, While far, a widening circle seems All radiant with its hallowed gleams. Then, welcome death, haste thy approach, Calmly we wait thy chilling touch, Behold this feebly heaving breast Here let thy palsying hand be prest T' this beating heart, speak, if tliou will, And bid its life-long throbs be still The current of this life-blood stay, Turn all this wasted flesh to clay. Yes, close these eyes press back this breath, And all thou canst, is done, O death. See now ! a glorious life revealed ! By Christ secured, with Him concealed It lives, it triumphs in this hour, Beyond thy reach, O mystic power ! l"p through the shining depths it springs, While songs of praise it sweetly sings. Then there's to me no death, no grave, I see but Him who died to save, Arrayed in grandeur, love and light, 'Tis Jesus fills iny wondering sight. 13 290 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF w o z H ^ w K : f <- *, a - v i _: ; . i * 1 rr%: 3 . r 1 __ _1 ' * i - .. - -- ^~- Q m c^ -A! US. CHRISTIANA B. COWELL. . ( ' il K-H h <* ! o ' riii _^ fri; 111 fi-i; n in .. I ! I 1 : *-' 4 * * ii fH il r^ ., I? 4 i ' ^ a B I : trf T S - -\> I 7 MM I K 3* J ^ \ -U *- | * M ; j I -5 . -g S * 4} I 8 - -5 s glf J-.2.S rf S S S |s s ^ J " s Ji cT C "' 5 > o3 'S :-s s -c s = g o - s '- ^ s -s ^ = .s o ^ ^ s .- " . O c if i_. r- r-*. ^ ^ r: "^ g s ^ " "t! ^ -S ' ' 292 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF [From the Mothers' Journal.] TALKS WITH OUR FRIENDS. THE LAST LETTER FROM "CRADLE-SIDE." Soon after the death of the lamented Mrs. Cowell, the well known "Cradle-side," we re- ceived from the hands of her husband and daughter, a package of papers designed for us, and containing articles sketched by her during a protracted sickness. These have since ap- peared in our pages. With these there were some lines, traced faintly in pencil marks, for ourself, intended to