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 contained in it. I broke the seal, and what were my emotions when I read the name of Newell. This was not a long wished for letter: no; it was a long dreaded one, which I was conscious would involve me in doubt, anxiety, and distress. Nor were the contents such, as I might answer at a distant period; they required an immediate answer.

And now what shall I say? How shall I decide this interesting, this important question? Shall I consent to leave for ever the parent of my youth, the friends of my life, the scenes of my childhood, and my native country, and go to a land of strangers, "not knowing the things which shall befall me there?" O for direction from heaven! O for "that wisdom which is profitable to direct!". I will go to God, and with an unprejudiced mind, will seek his guidance. I will cast this heavy burden on him, humbly trusting that he will sustain me and direct me in the path of duty.

April 19.— The important decision is not yet made. I am still wavering. I long to see and converse with my dear mother. Never did I so greatly long to visit the dear native dwelling. Perhaps my dear mother will immediately say, Harriet shall never go. Well, if this should be the case, my duty will be plain. I cannot act contrary to the advice and express command of a pious mother.

Her mother made no objection to her accepting the offer of Mr Newell, but cheerfully left her to act according to her conviction of duty.

1811 Aug.7.— I have just laid down Horn on Missions. How did his pious heart glow with benevolence to his fellow creatures! How ardent did he wish for the promulgation of the Gospel among the benighted Heathen! I think, for a moment, I partake of his ardour, and long to hear that the