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p the moon-beams, and the lights of the native À city are glimmering at our feet, for we are
raised quite above it. The light-house is also seen gleaming faintly at the distance of four or five miles. Our house fronts the west. At the back-side, the sea approaches near, and affords an ever varying prospect, boats with their white spread sails—mountainous islands rising here and there—the tide ever ebbing and flowing, with the waves sometimes swelling roughly, and again retiring into a calm. West and south appears the native city with its numerous idol temples, and inhabitants, devoted to their idolatrous worship. The sea occasionally bursts on the view in every direction. North of us Mahim is situated, but at a considerable distance so that the intervening country is exposed to view. You may perhaps begin to think our situation is quite a romantic one. It is so in a measure, but immediately around us are many craggy rocks and native cottages with their filthy inhabitants. This last circumstance renders it the more strictly a missionary field. I have read with lively emotions, on gazing around, the description of Cowper, beginning with
• He is the free man whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves beside,' &c.
“ One thing which I have dreaded, more than anything else connected with this place, is, that the rocks afford a harbor and dwelling-place for serpents, and some of a fearful nature, the bite of which is certain death. Two of that kind were killed while Mr. Graves lived here. They are large and long, and have the power of coiling themselves, and then jumping at a person, throwing themselves in the air a considerable height. Hitherto we have been preserved, and have seen none since coming to this place. Yours affectionately,
CHAPTER X V.
Her last sickness and death. The last entry in Mrs. A.'s journal shows the degrading influence of the systems of superstition and idolatry which prevail in India, and closes in the following manner: “O when shall Jesus reign where'er the sun
Does his successive journeys run.” “ We are now hoping soon to welcome some new laborers to this extensive field, and may God grant them an abundant en
trance into their labors, and fit them to engage in them with such a spirit as he shall approve.”
The following account of her death was published in Bombay, in the Oriental Christian Spectator for March, 1831.
“On the 5th of February last, it pleased God, in the exercise of his wise, and holy, and righteous, and good, but unsearchable, providence, to remove Mrs. Allen from her highly interesting labors on earth, to the company and employment of the redeemed in heaven. Her death made a deep impression on those who had the happiness of her acquaintance, and who desire the success of the endeavors which are made to present the truths of the gospel to the perishing natives of this superstitious land. Their mourning was something more than common grief. It had its origin in grace, as well as in nature; and it referred to a public, as well as to a private loss. Some of the natives also experienced a sympathy which they seldom exhibit, and a few of them were affected in the most tender manner. The funeral took, place at the American mission chapel on the evening of the day of her decease.”
A more particular account of her death
will be found in the following letter of her , afflicted husband to her parents.
“Bombay, February 7th, 1831. “Dear and honored parents,-Hitherto, in our communications to our dear friends in America, we have generally had occasion to speak of the goodness of God as manifested towards us in temporal and spiritual favors. And still I would speak only of the goodness of God, for it is infinite and unchangeable, and when in infinite wisdom he visits his children with trials and afflictions, he does it through loving kindness and tender mercy, as much as when he grants them the light of his countenance, and the joys of his salvation. The children of God are never afflicted because he has pleasure in doing it, but because he sees this to be necessary. And when the chastening hand of our heavenly Father is laid upon us, it should excite in us more deep humiliation, and godly sorrow for sins which render such afflictions necessary for us-it should increase our love and confidence in Him, who does not willingly afflict, but chastises us only for our profit—and should produce in us more entire submission to his will, and more conformity to his holy character. May this efsect be produced in myself, and in all, in view of the mournful event I have now to
* communicate to you. Death has entered
my domestic abode, has dissolved the ten- derest tie I have ever felt, and has severed in the strongest cord of my affection to the
things of this life. You will anticipate what I am about to say. My dearly beloved Myra—the companion of my bosom-the partner of my joys and my sorrows, has left this vale of tears for the mansions of gloryshe has bid farewell to these earthly scenes of sin and sorrow, and has gone to enjoy that rest which remains for the people of God. She died on Saturday morning, the 5th of this month, at half past nine o'clock. For several months before this event, she had enjoyed uncommonly good health, and at no time since our arrival here, was she more actively engaged, and her heart more deeply interested in her labors among the heathen. On Saturday morning, at half past six o'clock she was made the joyful mother of a son; and, for some time after, appeared quite comfortable, took a cheerful part in the conversation, and, while we were raising our hearts to God with gratitude in view of our prospects, an unexpected and surprising change took place, and neither the most assiduous attention of her friends, nor the best of medical assistance could afford any relief. Death had begun his work