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lumines our path, and, for a few moments, all may be bright and gladsome. But, how soon are its rays obscured by adversity's threatening cloud-perhaps wholly intercepted by its overwhelming torrent! These several changes we were called to witness while you were with us the past season. But this train of reflection probably leads you to anticipate, that we may now adopt the language of the wise man,-Though we live many years, and see good in them all, yet let us not forget the days of darkness, for they are many. Compose your minds, dear brother and sister, and let the Hope of Israel be your support, your 6 strong tower,' while I inform you, that she, whom you last summer saw clad in bridal garments, has now assumed the habiliments of the tomb. Yes, our dear sister B. has exchanged this vale of mortality, I trust, for a brighter world. This afternoon we have committed her remains to the dark and silent grave. Do you pause to weep? Jesus also wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus. Our tears have flowed copiously, and our hearts bled with anguish ; but our grief is not like theirs that have no hope. I trust we have had a disposition to bless the Lord, our covenant God, for the unspeakable favor vouchsafed to our beloved sister, and to us, in her dying exercises. But you will wish to know the particulars of her illness. * * * * We have now resigned her mortal part to the dust from whence it was taken, with the glorious hope, that it will be raised, incorruptible and glorious, when them that sleep in Jesus shall God bring with him.' We feel deeply our loss, but we should be ungrateful to repine, or wish her back. She has gained that victory which yet remains for us to win. Thus you see our number no longer remains unbroken. Death has levelled his dart at one, and made her his prey. Soon there will be another, and another, and another, till we all shall sleep with her in the dust. May our spirits then rest with hers in the kingdom of our Redeemer. * * * * Our dear parents are much afflicted, and feel that the billows of the Almighty are passing over them, yet have strong consolation, and, I trust, can say,— The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. I think none of us feel disposed to murmur, but rather to rejoice, in the goodness of God, though nature still grieves and mourns. May the same consolation be these memoirs, he had been acquainted for a number of years, and had often witnessed her moral worth.
yours, my dear brother and sister, and may we all be excited to more diligence, remembering the admonition, What thy hand findeth to do, do with thy might,'”,
Her decision to accompany Mr. Allen to India.--Peculiar tri
als at the thought of parting with her friends, &c. In the summer of 1827, a pressing call was made for a reinforcement to the missionary station at Bombay. Mr. Bardwell had been obliged to return home from that station on account of ill health, and Messrs. Newell, Nichols, Frost and Hall, had been removed from their labors by death. The mission was consequently languishing. To abandon so important a post in the midst of millions who were perishing in heathen darkness, was a disaster too great to be endured by the friends of missions. Mr. Stone had been some time ready to embark, and was waiting for some one to accompany him. On this emergency, Mr. David O. Allen, though he had not completed his studies in the Theological Seminary at Andover, was appointed to this service, and promptly accepted the appointment. He looked around for a kindred spirit, ready to sacrifice all that is most dear on earth for the honor of Christ and the enlargement of his kingdom. With the subject of
The proposition for her to accompany him, came like an electric shock to her diffident and retiring mind. How could she deem herself qualified to enter upon so interesting and momentous an enterprise, and occupy a station so elevated among the people of God ? How could she leave the beloved walks of her native retirement, and expose herself to public observation, to the scrutiny of friends, and the harsh judgment of enemies ? How could she assume a responsibility so weighty as that which involved the success of an ambassador of Jesus among millions dying in their sins on the dusky plains of India.
How could she part with so many endeared friends and relatives? how could she endure to bid them a final adieu, with the prospect of never greeting them again on these shores of mortality ? how leave a kind father, and an affectionate mother, enfeebled with disease, and venture, with her own feeble constitution, upon so great and hazardous an enterprise which, in all probability would shorten her days?
The writer distinctly remembers, how all these difficulties pressed upon her consid