The Winterthur Library

 The Joseph Downs Collection of Manuscripts and Printed Ephemera

Henry Francis du Pont Winterthur Museum

5105 Kennett Pike, Winterthur, Delaware  19735

Telephone: 302-888-4600 or 800-448-3883

 

 

OVERVIEW OF THE COLLECTION

 

Creator:         Mason, Hannah Rogers                                                          

Title:               Diary or an account of the events of every day

Dates:             1825-1827, 1830-1834, 1836.

Call No.:         Doc. 361                    

Acc. No.:        76x113

Quantity:        1 v. (94 p. plus blanks)

Location:        31 C 4

 

 

 

BIOGRAPHICAL STATEMENT

 

Hannah Rogers Mason was the youngest of six children, born on December 21, 1806, to Daniel Dennison Rogers (1751-1825) and Elizabeth Bromfield Rogers (1763-1833).  She resided in Boston, Massachusetts.  On October 24, 1831, Hannah married William P. Mason, an attorney also from Boston.  They had several children.

 

 

SCOPE AND CONTENT

 

The sometimes lengthy, self-reflective entries in this diary focus primarily on sickness, death, and God’s plans for one’s life.  As the volume opens, Hannah's father was on his deathbed and one of her brothers, Henry, was so ill that he believed a trip to Europe was the only thing that could cure him.  The death of Hannah's sister, Elizabeth, in 1826, the death of her mother in 1833, the impoverishment of the Rogers family, the departure of her brother-in-law for a foreign country, leaving her with the charge of his young children, and the death of her own daughter are all described in detail.  Hannah's preoccupation with her faith and trust in God is reflected in her diary entries.  For example, after finishing a book by Madame de Stael on the French Revolution, she noted that the United States was fortunate to enjoy freedom of religion and not have a Napoleon-like leader who encroached upon the rights of man.  At one point, Hannah wrote that the main purpose of keeping this journal was as an outlet for her feelings of bereavement.  Thus, few social activities are recorded.  Hannah mentions a trip to the Catskill Mountains and another to Niagara Falls in passing.  She heard Daniel Webster’s oration on Adams and Jefferson.  She attended the laying of the cornerstone of the Bunker Hill Monument.  In 1826, she devoted an entry to speculating on the role of women and the incompatibility of the domestic and literary life.  Her diary ends on July 2, 1837 with the birth of her second son.

 

         

ORGANIZATION

 

The entries are in chronological order.

 

 

LANGUAGE OF MATERIALS

 

The materials are in English.

 

 

RESTRICTIONS ON ACCESS

 

Collection is open to the public.  Copyright restrictions may apply.

           

 

PROVENANCE

           

Purchased from The Americanist.

 

 

ACCESS POINTS

 

Topics:

            Bereavement.

            Parents - Death.

            Mourning customs.

            Women - Massachusetts - Boston - Social conditions.

            Single women - Diaries.

            Women - Diaries.

            Religious thought - 19th century.

            Death – Religious aspects.

            Christian life.

            Boston (Mass.) - Social life and customs.

Diaries.

           

 

 

TRANSCRIPTION OF THE DIARY:

 

Note on transcription: punctuation and paragraphs have been added to make reading easier.  Original spelling has been retained.

 

 

Written on second leaf: H. Rogers, Boston March 20th 

 

[p.1]

 

Diary, or an Account of the Events of every day

 

March 24th 1825.

The first event which I am called upon to notice in this book is the approaching dissolution of a dear Parent, one of the greatest [most is crossed out] afflictions perhaps I shall ever experience, especially as he is insensible by derangement of the approach of that moment when he will quit this world forever.  May Heaven grant me strength to support this trial.  May I be enabled to realize that he is not to be in the cold grave but that he is to live in a world where there is no sickness nor pain and where all tears shall be wiped from our eyes.  May I be impressed by the instance now before me of the utter impossibility of preparing for this great change in a time of sickness.

 

March 25th

This morning at one o'clock my dear Father’s spirit winged its flight without a motion; at ten last night his eyes were fixed and his hands clasped over his breast.  While watching his last moments I could not but be impressed with the idea that his soul was gone some time before he breathed his last.  What a  

[p.2]

change in an instant! from earth to heaven.  If we could realize that he was happy above should we not rather rejoice than mourn?  How selfish is it to wish our friends back to this state of anxiety and suffering!  Four weeks previous to my dear Father’s dissolution, he seemed to be impressed with the danger of his situation, conversed much on death and was in a very grateful temper of mind, often expressed his gratitude for the attentions of his children and happiness in their characters.  One night, when giving him his nourishment, he called us to the bed and said "he wished to bless us while he had the strength, that it was his last prayer we might always live together in love and harmony, that we should follow the path of virtue and lead Christian lives so that we might meet him in heaven"  May I make it a conscientious duty to perform these duties and act the character which he so much desired.  May I never forget his prayer that we might grow up worthy of such illustrious ancestors.  May the happiness which a true Christian enjoys on his death bed from the reflection that he has always led a life of virtue and piety, that he has withstood the snares and temptations of this world, that he has observed integrity and candour

[p.3]

towards his fellow men be deeply impressed upon my mind    

 

May that great characteristic in my Father’s life, of never allowing his feelings to rule his judgment, descend upon me.  May I be enabled to overcome that disposition which is too predominant of accusing others and endeavoring to vindicate myself, and lastly may this affliction which was sent upon me to call me to reflection and to improvement be so employed that in after life, I may look back upon its being one of my greatest blessings.

 

Monday March 28th-

I have just returned from performing the last duty to my dear Father, that of depositing him in the silent grave, what a said office is this! What a bitter and heart rending thought that we can never see him again on earth! but that we must leave him to moulder to that dust from which he was made, that parent who has watched over us with so much anxiety and solicitude, who closed and opened his eyes with prayers for his wife and children.  But why do I mourn, he is not in the cold grave, but his spirit is soaring above and enjoying the company of the blessed spirits there; it is only the poor frail body which we see decaying away.  Then O my Soul, do not mourn but rather rejoice that he has passed this state of trial and entered on another where is never ending happiness.   

 

[p.4]

April 17th 1825-

This day the news of Mr. Whitwell's death at the south reached us.  I could not but contrast in my own mind the different situation of his family from our own, the one has left his children grown up to years of discretion and knowledge, this character formed for life, principles instilled which are to govern their conduct in any situation, and enough of this world’s goods to give all the happiness which so frail a possession can afford, and leave the world with no other anxiety but that they may increase in knowledge and virtue as they increase in years.  The other has left his children in years of infancy and childhood subject to the snares and temptations of this world with no friend but a mother who can poorly supply the place of a Father, and without the necessaries of life.  In this event do we see the mysterious providence of God, and it is this which leads me to the following remarks.   

 

So frequent, so severe, and often so mysterious are the dispensations of Providence that many are led to doubt his justice and mercy.  To show the rashness and injustice of this doubt is now my design.  One way of convincing us of this is by picturing to ourselves the character of God, his omnipresence, omniscience, his  

[p.5]

attributes, power, and nature, and then to draw a just picture of human nature with all its weakness dependence [sic], imperfection, and liability to errour [sic].  Another way is by reflecting upon the goodness which is displayed in our common blessings and of which we are made insensible from their being so constant.  Another way is by tracing his hand with which he always mixes mercy in our severest afflictions.  Another by what he has revealed to us in the scriptures that He delighteth not in afflicting his creatures, but as a Father chaseneth his children, so the Lord chaseneth them that fear him.  And lastly by the experience which every day shows us that afflictions are in mercy because they do soften the heart, take off our thoughts and affections from the things of this world, remind us of the uncertainty of every earthly pleasure and of our own lives.

 

To attempt to show the rashness of murmuring at the dispensations of Heaven would seem to be useless.  What ingratitude is it when we look round about us and see the goodness of God which is displayed in the luxury and beauty lavished upon every thing and their adaptedness to our wants, to complain because our shortsightedness prevents our foreseeing his just and merciful designs!  It is not rashness and against our own interest to murmur

[p.6]

at a Being who can do with us whatever seemeth him good?  May we not incur his future displeasure, and thus provoke him to bring more miseries upon our heads by not inquiring of ourselves why these afflictions are sent upon us and conforming our characters and conduct thereto?  Is it not wrong for the same reason to indulge in our grief to an excess?  God allows us to mourn for our friends, and it would be almost inhuman forgetfulness not to do it, but to excite and exasperate our grief by bringing to our mind painful recollections is wrong.

 

If our friend has led such a life as to give us strong hopes of his future happiness, it is selfish in us to wish him back; our love should rather make us rejoice that he is removed from a world of anxiety, [and is crossed out] disappointment, and suffering, but such is human nature, our own happiness and interest is always sought before that of others.  Selfishness is the ruling passion of mankind, and perhaps there is no passion the indulgence of which will produce more unhappy influences upon the character.  The immediate effect is unhappiness because mankind are of a social nature, and we cannot be happy though we possess ever so many causes for happiness without seeing others  

[p.7]

participate in it.  Besides the greatest felicity of which human nature is capable of feeling is that of a generous heart, upon the conviction that he has been able to promote the welfare of another, and of this a selfish person is entirely deprived.  The lasting effects is to sour the temper, contract the mind, destroy every noble principle, and to shut out every means of improvement.

 

Methinks if our departed friend were permitted to look upon us, he would think it a strange way of expressing our love to mourn because he is happy.  He would say, “daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, because this prize, of which I am now in possession, you have got to acquire.  Let my state rather stimulate you to press on to the accomplishments of that work for which you were sent into the world, so that when that period shall arrive, when you are to join me, you may leave your friends the same causes for consolation.”   

 

[p.8]

Sabbath day May 1st 1825.

Mr. Gannett preached from John, 13th chap., 34-35 verses.  Upon the importance of possessing brotherly love towards our fellow creatures, & showing that if we do not possess this, we forfeit our claim to be called the disciples of that Savior who commanded it.

 

The object is, and the only way which we can improve by it, is to ask ourselves whether we act up to what is therein contained.  In the present instance, our question should be whether we are always as much interested for others as for ourselves?  Whether for our own interest we should not be willing to injure another? And whether we never partake of the memorials of our Savior without a feeling of envy and ill will towards some one?  Happy is that man whose conscience tells him he is free from these sins!  But alas! they are few!  And although these are sins, and there is a denunciation prefixed by our Savior of refusing to acknowledge a man who indulges in them as his disciple, still I fear there is hardly a being in existence who is not influenced by them in some degree.

 

May Heaven enable me to examine my own conscience.  If I have any enemies, may I forgive them.  May I never indulge a censorious, uncharitable disposition, which I am too prone to do, but may I judge of others with candour and a Christian 

[p.9]

temper.  May I follow the example in this respect of my dear Father, who was an eminent pattern for his charity and brotherly love toward his fellow creatures.   

 

May 4th 1825.

This morning my brother Henry left us for a long journey on account of his health.  May it prove beneficial to him.  He has gone through much fatigue the last winter in performing his duties to his deceased Father, but by it he has laid up happiness for himself through life from the conviction that if he did not ease his sufferings, he has in some small degree returned his anxiety and attentions, and given his dying parent a proof that he possessed a dutiful and grateful child.  If we had no other consolation that this, that we had an opportunity of showing our love and affection, and that he was sensible of our attentions, we ought to be happy.

 

This afternoon Mr. & Mrs. Dowse came to see us; they appeared much overcome and expressed a great deal of affection and respect for my dear Father.  Mr. D. said he had lost his only friend; that he felt, when in father's presence, as if he could open his whole soul; that he was one of the best of men, and indeed. he did not know as he had a fault.  I was particularly struck with the truth that virtue always commands 

[p.10]

respect and admiration even from the vicious.  Never was affection for another expressed, I believe, with more sincerity than by these friends.  My father's character was one which was known only to his near friends, as he was wholly exempt from all display, ostentation or pride, and did not possess those traits which show themselves in the common intercourse of life.  Few men possessing the virtues which he daily practiced have passed through life with so little show, but his character was one of all others which would excite the most esteem respect, affection and admiration.

 

Many of his excellencies were exhibited in his friendship with Mr. D, and by them he has gained such a place in his heart that his memory will be sacred to him as long as he lives. 

 

[p.11]

 

May 16th

This day I have finished Madam de Stael's French Revolution and her Exile, both of which I have been much interested in.  How grateful we ought to be that we live under a free government, that we are allowed to profess that religion which our own hearts tell us is the true one, that the worthy are supported and encouraged, and the wicked brought to the just reward of their crimes.  How entirely forgetful are we of this great blessing; those that are born and live under such a government have no idea of its worth.  It is only by reading the history's [sic] of other nations, and seeing the misery and torture and deaths of those who lived under despotic governments, that we can be made sensible of our own advantage.

 

I know of no work that presents such a picture of suffering arising from that cause as Madame de Stael's Revolution.  When we reflect upon the thousands who have fallen a sacrifice to the ambition of one man, it makes us shudder.  It is hardly possible to conceive the misery of such a people.  That Bonaparte was a man of great powers of mind, of great knowledge of human nature, and of great military talents, no one can doubt (though Madame de Stael denies he possessed either of the two former), but I believe there never was a man that trod upon the earth who caused so much misery, 

[p.12]

who so much encroached upon the rights of others, and who has laid so many in their graves, and who apparently was so little sensible of his own wickedness.  It always appeared astonishing to me that the love of one's country should be so annihilated in a man's breast that he would be willing to rob her of he works of admiration, pride, and glory merely for the sake of embellishing another.  Madame de Stael is undoubtedly much prejudiced against Bonaparte, and it is almost beyond the power of human nature not to be so after the hardships she has endured on his account, but the mere facts which she states are sufficient to show that he had not a spark of generosity, goodness of heart, or nobleness of soul, but that his whole life was devoted to the attainment of one object, that is to raise himself to the highest possible pitch of power and glory.  Perhaps Bonaparte could not have had a greater foe in the attainment of this object than Madame de Stael, as she had great influence in the kingdom and was capable by her works, as well as by what she said, of doing a great deal of mischief, and this no doubt is the reason why he always watched her so narrowly, and why she received so many proofs of his jealousy.  He, however, had been the means of doing great good to the French, all the wonderful

[p.13]

works of Paris have been raised by him, and although his motives are to be condemned, yet the French ought to remember him as the cause of their glory, but not as an object of admiration or love.

 

May 25th-

Election day, a day which call [sic] to my mind many sad reflections.  This day last year, my dear Father was well and likely to live for many years, and enjoyed his friends whom he had to dine with him.  He seemed to think it a duty and appeared to derive pleasure from the society of Clergymen.  As the procession passed by, I was struck with the numbers that have gone the last year, two of our governors who were then alive and well, one of whom is gone to receive the rewards of the righteous. 

 

 

[Note: the following passage was written the day that the cornerstone of the Bunker Hill Monument was laid, June 17, 1825.] 

 

June 17th-

This day has been the most glorious one I ever passed, one in which all my feelings of gratitude, patriotism, and pride were excited.  I came in from Brookline with the intention of seeing only the Procession but upon persuasion of Sister, I determined to go to Charlestown, and a happy determination it was!  One that I shall look back upon with pleasure through life.  What more afflicting [sic, probably meant to write affecting] sight can be imagined than to behold one 

[p.14]

hundred thousand people all united in singing praises to the Almighty for their unexampled blessings, and afterwards joining with heart and soul in invoking blessings upon those departed souls who were the instruments under Heaven of our present happiness.  I was particularly struck at this time, upon looking around me, at the appearance of this multitude.  Every one was respectably dressed and every face was kindled with joy; even the lowest seemed to glory in this memorable day.  The question seems naturally to arise what is the cause of this difference between us and other nations?  We cannot certainly hesitate in answering it.  It is our free republican government, and to our ancestors, of whom so many have died in supporting its cause, are we to bless for the present state of society.  Our privileges are great; we are a favoured people; and it is not because we have merited it, but Heaven has some great designs to accomplish by it, and therefore it ought to be a subject of serious inquiry whether we rightly use these blessings.

 

[p.15]

 

August 25th

Set off for Catskill Mountain with Mother and brother John, Mrs. Deblois, and Miss Joy, with expectations of receiving a great deal of pleasure.

 

October 9th

Returned home from our journey is no way disappointed in my expectation.  I think there is no scene in nature which would tend more to elevate the mind and impress us with the majesty and power of the Almighty.  I never passed three weeks more to my satisfaction, beside the gratification of my taste.  I had constant intercourse with the most improved minds, which of all other advantages I think is the greatest.  When we are in the society of those whose minds are improved, whose tastes are cultivated, whose sentiments and feelings are refined, we cannot but adopt their views.  Excellence, wherever it lies, will always find admirers and imitators.  How important is it, therefore, both for the happiness of ourselves and of our fellow creatures, that we approach as near the standard of perfection as possible!

 

October 15th

Mother was taken sick; she was unwell a week before she sent for the Doctor.  When he came, he found her very sick with a high fever and violent inflammation upon her lungs.

 

[p.16]

 

October 18th-

Henry thinks of going to Europe on account of his health, which will be a most painful thing in Mother’s present state 

 

October 23rd-

Mother is so ill that Henry had given up all thoughts of going.  O! what a dreadful event is this! What greater affliction can befal me!  Hardly is one parent placed in the grave before the other is about to be taken from me.  Heaven's will be done. 

 

October 25th

To-day, Mother's symptoms are entirely changed for the better.  Doctor W- [sic] thinks her sickness will be long and tedious but not violent.  Henry has determined to go as his health is in a very precarious state and the present opportunity affords every possible advantage.  He will be accompanied by three of his friends who will pay him every attention in case of sickness, and as the season is so far advanced it will be impossible for him to go until the next spring if he fails in going now.

 

October 27th

Henry left us this morning at seven o’clock for New York with a heavy heart; the pain of separation is most dreadfully aggravated by the serious illness of my Mother.  How it 

[p.17]

will terminate Heaven only knows.  To have her last days embittered by the absence of one of her children is a most trying thing.  God grant that it may turn out for the best.  I feel this separation from my brother most peculiarly trying.  He is nearest my age and can therefore enter more into my feelings.  I want his society, and still more his advice and direction, but let me not be so selfish as to wish to deprive him of the means of gaining his health, and of deriving so much pleasure for my gratification.  He has a mind capable of great improvement, and surely intercourse with and knowledge of the world is one of the greatest sources of improvement.  It gives us just views of human nature, by seeing such a variety we are led to compare and to trace out the sources of actions which display themselves so variously in different men.  It enlarges our views, we form our judgment of men and things not by a good or bad action, but by viewing them in all their different bearings and balancing one thing against another.  Thus we always see what a man who has had a secluded life has great prejudices either for or against people.  It is one of the most important acquisitions for a young man, not only that he may

[p.18]

know how to regulate his own conduct towards others, but that he may avoid those things which, though perhaps thought trifling by the pofessor, yet produce a bad impression.

 

November 2nd 1826

This day we have had a letter from Henry written on board the ship 30 miles below the city.  Every thing was favourable, a fine wind and going at the rate of 12 knots an hour.

 

Nov. 3rd

I cannot help looking in upon Henry, who is now upon the mighty deep, and imagining he is almost sick with the idea that he has left that home and that parent whom he may never see again.  He is going to a country where, amidst thousands, not one will smile upon him, nor one heart beat quicker if he were in existence or not.  What a dreadful drawback is this to a traveller.  However, pleasure was not his object.  If he but regain his health, he will feel himself compensated for any sacrifices.

 

November 16th

This day is the one I promised to write Henry.  Every moment since he left us have I hoped to see some favourable change in my dear Mother that I might put his mind at ease

[p.19]

but alas! the present prospect is dark.  I cannot say anything to encourage him.  I fear to look forward to the probable consequences of this sickness.  Day after day passes and I see nothing but a gradual sinking of nature.  O God, if my Mother is taken from me, what shall I do!  How can I be separated from her?  I shall feel as if my existence was taken away.  But I cannot think of it.  I cannot believe Heaven will take one who does so much good, both by her Christian example and her benevolent actions, one who us the chief tie that binds this family together.  Heaven grant that whether he sees fit to remove her or to raise her to health, I may be enabled to discharge the duties of a daughter faithfully, that I may have bodily strength given me to attend upon her by night and by day, that I may make her last days her happiest days.

 

November 23rd

This day is the first one in which I have seen any material change in my dear Mother for the better.  Heaven be praised for this glimmer of hope.  How true is the observation that we do not know how to value our blessing until we are deprived of them.  I feel that I have never been grateful enough for possessing such a Mother.  God has undoubtedly thus threatened

[p.20]

her life to show me the uncertainty of every earthly blessing and the frailty of the object that my happiness centered in.  May this lesson not by forgotten, but may I, whilest she is spared to me, follow her example and profit by her precepts.  We often allow ourselves to murmur at the dispensations of Providence, but I am convinced that they are necessary for us.  We must have our minds taken from this world and thrown in upon ourselves.  Prosperity is most detrimental to our improvement.  Those who have been the most afflicted are generally the superior characters.  It gives them enlarged and refined views, purifies the heart and affections, and gives us benevolent and sympathetic feelings.  Those who have been allowed to go on in an interrupted course of prosperity, we generally find selfish, frivolous, and their minds entirely taken up with the follies of the world.

 

December 15th-

This is one of the most severely cold days I ever felt, and Sister is in the midst of moving into her new house.  How happy I feel that she is to be so near to us, where I can go in at any moment.  I anticipate many happy hours in this house.  I hope she will be led to see more of her friends and to

[p.21]

have more social intercourse with them.

 

December 21st-

This is the anniversary of my birth-day.  I have completed my nineteenth year, and how many changes have taken place in our little family circle!  A beloved and revered Father has been consigned to the tomb.  I have separated with a Brother whom I love most ardently, to go to Europe for his health, perhaps never to meet again in this world.  And my only remaining Parent had been threatened to be taken away from me.  But let me be grateful to Heaven that I can now hope that her life will be spared to me for many years.  But let me here stop for one moment and inquire of my heart what good these trials have produced.  Have they made me more conscientious in the discharge of my duties?  Have they softened and warmed my heart?  Have they refined and enlarged my views of men and things?  But above all, have they warned me of the uncertainty of life and of the all importance of preparing for this great change while in health and not deferring it for a death-bed?  Have they convince me of the frailty of every earthly blessing and led me to build my happiness upon a more sure foundation?  If I can answer all these questions in the affirmative, happy is it that I have been afflicted.  But alas! I fear I have not improved as

[p.22]

I ought.  Let me begin this day but making new resolutions that I will perform my duties to my Mother more faithfully and promptly, that I may be more kind and disinterested to those about me, that I may be willing to give up my own pleasure for that of others.  Disinterestedness is a virtue which always excites my admiration when I see it in others, and I have always thought it was one above all others which I should wish to possess.  It covers a multitude of faults.  To some it is undoubtedly a natural gift, but it may be acquired.  I am one that has got to acquire it.  Heaven grant that I may.  May I bend my whole mind & soul to the accomplishment of this purpose.  May I also be charitable.  Heaven has been pleased to put me in the possession of riches.  May I feel my responsibility.  May I be alive to the sufferings and wants of those about me, and not only be willing to given when applied to, but to make exertions to find out those who are in want.  And lastly, may I form a habit of industry, never spend my time in idle occupations. How many hours are spent in loitering about!  This is a thing which I feel I shall always have to combat against owing to my feeble state of

[p.23]

health.  Lassitude of the body always creates idle habits without very fixed principles to counteract them.  I know of no pains so hard to bear as those attendant upon extreme weakness, and no state which is so entirely detrimental to all improvement.  The mind must partake with the body.  People in general do not make allowances enough for those who are in this state, indeed it is only by personal experience that we know how to do it. 

 

January 1st 1826-

This day, which is always greeted with so much pleasure as being one in which mutual congratulations are constantly exchanged, has been rather a sad one to me.  I felt a blank in my morning salutations which I cannot describe.  My dear Father was always the first to meet me and congratulate me; he seemed to take peculiar pleasure in meeting his children on this day.  This morning I arose and had no one to salute me but a sick Mother.  What a change!  My heart sunk within me.  Its coming on the Sabbath added to the gloom.  I went to meeting and heard a very excellent sermon from Mr. Gannett.  I hope I shall profit by it.

I received two proofs of affection in the evening, one from my sister and one from John, which will always be dear to me. 

 

[p.24]

 

March 25th—

This day is the anniversary of my dear Father's death.  It brings most forcibly to my mind all the circumstances attending this sad scene.  O what an agonizing moment was it when I saw my Father draw his last breath!  Altho' a year has passed, yet the thought of it is as bitter now as it ever was.  Never can I forget it, and I never wish to.  I have often heard him express his surprise that people could so soon forget their friends, and he feared that his children would soon forget him after he was gone.  Little did he imagine how much his children loved him.  Far be it from me to forget one whose character combined everything to excite esteem and respect.  I shall always look back upon my Father's life as a model for the formation of my own character.  He possessed some virtues which are but rarely found, and which always excited my admiration, for instance a great degree of candour and generosity united with great humility and an entire remove from all ostentation.  Never did I see a man who was so perfectly insensible to his own merits, and this feeling continued to the very last moments of his life.  His entire unworthiness was the last expression that came from his lips. 

 

[p.25]

 

May 18th-

Our family seems to be doomed to constant sickness.  Mother has hardly got about and now my Sister is a great sufferer from ill health.  I had hoped that this summer we should all be able to enjoy, and that my Mother would be able to take a long journey to restore her impaired health, but alas!  My wishes have been frustrated.  At present I see no hopes for it.  The prospect is dark.  There is no hope of my Sister's being any better until the time comes for the removal of her difficulties.  Altho’ these are not any apprehensions with regard to the termination of her sickness, yet it is very painful to see a friend suffer so much.  My reading and studies which I had intended to pursue this summer I fear will be again exchanged for nursing.  But ought I to repine at this?  Has not Heaven some wise design in ordering it thus?  Certainly if I can do good to my fellow creatures, it is wrong.  One occupation, although it may promote my own improvement, is a selfish gratification, while the other is an exercise of self-denial for the welfare of another, and this exercise may have a more salutary effect upon the character than all the reading and study.  As it regards our friends, it cannot be called any virtue; it seems

[p.26]

nothing more than what common humanity would dictate, but with those with whom we have no particular interest, I think it the greatest proof of self denial we can make.

 

July 10th-

The last three days the heat has been extreme.  This is the second spell of heat that we have had this season.  To those who are in health and able to bear it, it ought to be of but little importance.  But to those who are sick, it is very trying.  No one can conceive of the pains of extreme weakness and debility but those that have experienced them.  How much of the true Christian spirit does it require to bear them with patience!  We often find people disposed to reproach those who are thus afflicted, but I believe it will be only those who are inexperienced.  He who has truly felt the pains attendant upon weakness would think no allowances too great to be made, and would as soon think of criticizing the actions of an insane person as those who are sick.

 

My dear Sister is a melancholy instance of this kind; her sufferings are indeed great and unremitted night and day, and without the hope of receiving relief from medical advice.  I have 

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sometimes thought she wanted patience and a proper spirit to view her situation aright, but when I have come home and reflected upon it, I felt that it was doubtful whether I should bear them as well.  A want of candour and a disposition to find fault with conduct of others is a part of human nature.  Happy perhaps would it be for us could we oftener be put to the test, and happy would it be for the world could we look more into our own hearts, examine more our motives and our actions, and less into those of others.  What a different scene the world would exhibit! 

 

July 15th-

How perfectly happy I am this morning!  The nurse came over at breakfast time and surprised me by saying that I had a little niece.  No one can conceive of my joy at this moment, it was so entirely unexpected.  I was with her till half past ten o’clock and left her as well as usual.  The Babe was born at three!  As I came across the garden last evening, I felt unusually sad.  It made me almost heart sick to see her suffer so much.  I felt almost discouraged as to her ever being relieved.  How soon were my fears to be dispelled!  She appears to be very comfortable, and Heaven grant

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that she may soon be restored to health.

 

I have been to meeting all day, and never was my heart so filled with gratitude, and never did I experience so much pleasure in joining in the sacred services.  It is generally said that a state of adversity tends more to draw off our minds from the world and to bring us near to God than a state of prosperity (and this I believe generally speaking is true), but if a person who has experienced some striking manifestation of God’s goodness and has not his mind awakened and his soul filled with feelings of gratitude and devotion, I very much doubt whether that mind would ever be awakened without some very extraordinary calamities.  With regard to an earthly parent, it is certainly true that a course of kindness generally tends to gain the affections of his children, but the difficulty is with regard to our Heavenly Parent, that our blessings are so constantly and universally bestowed, that while we are enjoying them we are hardly sensible that they are blessings and therefore fail to produce any emotion.

 

July 16th-

Sister still continues well.  Her present happiness seems to be almost compensation for

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her past sufferings.  The Babe appears very strong and healthy.  If she does get her health, I anticipate much pleasure next winter. The idea of going into society is generally the cause of much happiness to young people.  I cannot say it is the case with me, altho’ I enjoy a social circle very much, but still novelty generally gives a charm.

 

July 18th

Today Sister is not so well; she has a bad head-ache and considerable fever.  However the Doctor does not seem to think much of it and says it is the natural order of things.  There is no doubt she is in a very delicate state and that her recovery will be very slow.

 

July 25th-

I seem to be born to disappointment!  The last week I have been anticipating in my own mind the pleasure of taking a journey to New York, but Sister has been so ill the last three days that it renders all my anticipations vain.  What a world of trial and vicissitude is this.  It seems as if one source of suffering was removed only to make room for another.

 

August 2nd

I have passed this day in a most agreeable and improving manner!  My taste has been improved, my mind enlightened, and my pride 

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gratified.  I have been to hear Mr. [Daniel] Webster's Eulogy upon Adams & Jefferson.  What a wonderful man he is, how worthy of a nation’s pride.  I had determined not to go, thinking there would be such a crowd that it would be impossible to get a seat, but my wishes prevailed over my fears, and I went with the determination, however, to return home if I could not get a seat.  When I got there, I found my fears were entirely groundless, a proof we should not be wholly governed by opinion.

 

It was a most imposing spectacle, such a multitude of people buried in the profoundest attention, and will afford me pleasure in the retrospection through life.  This day also Sister has rode out for the first time, and she appears very much refreshed and invigorated by it.  She seems to be firmly convinced that it is the air alone which will restore her.  Heaven grant that it may prove so.

 

August 3rd-

Sister has been out to ride again today, but does not appear as much benefited as we expected.  She is in a very weak state, and without a change of scene makes an alteration, I see no cause or hopes.  She thinks if she could only go to Tewksbury, where she could breather the

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country air and have an entire change of scene, it would restore her.  This might be the case.  She has such a peculiar constitution that what would appear rash for others to do, she might do with safety.

 

August 5th

I have had revealed to me this day a most delightful piece of news, the engagement of my Brother to a young lady who ranks very high in the estimation of the world.  This is an event which has always laid very near my heart, but which I have feared would not take place very soon.  I say I have been anxious upon the subject because I have thought a change of situation would conduce very much to his happiness, and he appeared so indifferent to it himself, and thought so much perfection necessary in the lady he connected himself with to make him happy, that there seemed to be but little chance of his falling in love.  But in this instance all his hopes and wishes seem to be realized, and his prospect of future happiness seem to be very bright.  

 

The marriage state is undoubtedly the happiest one where the parties are well matched, where there is principle, and where there is congeniality of sentiment and feeling.  But if this does not exist, it is the most miserable.  For a young lady the risk appears to me almost too great to run.  It is almost a

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matter of chance whether she changes her condition for the better, and one which I should not wish to prove.  The idea that people must be married to be respectable is to me absurd - a man or woman may command respect in any situation in which they may be placed.  The idea also that we cannot do any good in the world is erroneous.  I will allow that a single person has generally less influence in the world, and that they are more selfish, but this does not follow of course as many seem to think.  A single person has, in fact, more power to do good than a married one because he has fewer cares.  

 

It is a remarkable fact that those women who have made themselves eminent by the display of their intellectual powers in their writings have almost universally been single, for example Miss More, Edgeworth, Hamilton, Taylor, Adams &c.  [Hannah More, Maria Edgeworth, Elizabeth Hamilton, Jane or Ann Taylor, Hannah Adams.]  I should not have said this was remarkable, for it is almost incompatable to attend properly to the domestic duties of a family and to literary pursuits.  These women, I presume, have done more good to society in general by the dissemination of their principles, sentiments and views than any that have appeared in the present age.  In answer

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to this, some may say that the instances of women possessing such talents is very rare.  This is true, and the same may be said of men, but in order to be useful, it is not necessary to possess great talents.  The sphere of a woman’s usefulness ought to be chiefly confined to her family & friends and to those whom she may happen to fall in with.  She may be useful to these by her example, by performing personal services and acts of charity.  I doubt whether it was ever intended by Heaven that the female sex should come forward and expose themselves to public observation and criticism.  It seems to be contrary to that delicacy which ought always to characterize them.  Let it not then be said that a single woman cannot be useful; let her employ all the opportunities she possesses, and she cannot fail of being a useful member of society.

 

August 7th-

This day I am to form an acquaintance with a family whom I have never seen, and with a young lady with whom I am to be intimately connected through life.  It is rather a serious thought, but I hope the accomplishment of the task will dissipate all my sober feelings.  I have always imagined myself rather difficult of being pleased, but perhaps this is a matter of conceit.  Certain

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it is, however, that I do not form very sudden or violent attachments, and some, I doubt not, think me cold and indifferent.  Perhaps there is something of this in my manners, but I am sure (if I have any knowledge of myself) my heart is entirely free from it.  I have never been able to determine in my own mind whether ardent or moderate feelings were most desirable.  A person of keen feelings is more sensible to pain, as well as gratification, than one of tranquil feelings, but is generally too much governed by them, and therefore is led to commit many improprieties which reflection tells him are wrong.  Want of judgment and self-possession is almost an invariable attendant upon ardent feeling, and these two qualities are perhaps more important than any others to pass through life.  But it may be said, on the other hand, that there is no virtue is possessing qualities which are given us by nature, and in exhibiting which we have no feeling to contend with.  For instance, it is no credit to a man to be amiable when there is nothing to induce him to be otherwise.  It is the man whom nature has given strong passions, and who from principle fights against them, that may be said to possess true greatness. 

 

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August 9th

The Doctor has decided today that it is best for my sister to leave town immediately.  Accordingly everything is to be prepared to start tomorrow.  How she will bear it Heaven only knows.  It seems to me to be a most desperate attempt.  She seems to be very sanguine as to the result, but for a woman who cannot sit up but three hours in a day to ride twenty miles appears impossible, but this is the last resort.  It is certain she will never be any better while she remains here.  I think I have perceived her gradual decline the last ten days, and there is a possibility that change of air and scene may revive her.  She does not appear to have any disease but is excessively weak and emaciated.  I cannot but have my fears that she may never be any better.  God grant that we may not be brought to this renewed trial. 

 

August 10th

The day is stormy and our plan of going is of course defeated.  Who can tell the dreadful trial of being kept in such a state of suspense?  Only he who has experienced it.  I think I never suffered so much, everything appears to have gone contrary to our wishes, continual perplexities and interruptions.  It seems sometimes as if it was more than I could support, but we are assured that we shall not be

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tried beyond our strength.  I hope I shall be made better by them and shall submit with patience to whatever Heaven shall see fit to send upon me.

 

August 11th  

My Sister has had a very bad night.  she was attacked last evening with a complaint in her bowels, but had been relieved this morning.  She is evidently, however, much weaker and sicker than she has ever been.  I have been with her most of the morning.  She is very tranquil, free from pain, and is made happy from seeing a nurse whom we have procured who has got a fine breast of milk.  The Doctor did not appear alarmed about her, and I hope this attack may pass over.

 

I went over again after diner to see how she was.  As I entered the room, she looked up at me with a most distressed countenance and said "Oh Hannah! what shall I do, my complaint has returned with double violence."  I sent immediately for Dr. Gorham; he ordered powerful doses of Opium.  I requested him to give me his candid opinion of her state.  He said, "if this complaint arose from anything she had eaten, it could be checked, but if it was what he feared (the last stages of a Consumption) no earthly power could save her.  At any rate it 

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would be decided by the evening."  What were my feelings upon receiving this answer!  I returned to her room, gave her all he medicines, and anxiously watched for some favorable symptom.  I felt that her life hung upon a thread.  I gave one dose after another but could not see the least effect produced.  Everything passed through her.  I thought nothing could exceed the anguish of my heart.  I was persuaded she could not continue long without the complaint was checked, and would be so reduced that she would not be able to speak.  It was a rainy afternoon, my Mother was totally ignorant of her state, and I wished her to remain so until something more was determined.  I was alone with her, excepting her nurse, and was obliged to overcome all my feelings and appear perfectly calm and collected, as I found she was very much agitated herself, and nothing could be more detrimental to her recovery than this state of mind.  The evening came and the Doctor said "he saw no favourable change and he feared there was but little hope."  He ordered more powerful Opiates and said "he would bring another Physician at ten o'clock."  Now all my hopes were crushed as it were in a moment.  The shock was as great as if she had been taken from perfect health.  I thought it was more than I could bear,

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but then again, when I thought of my dear Mother and how much greater the loss would be to her, I felt that I had not a word to say.  My feelings were so dreadful that I thought it would deprive me of my senses.  

 

At ten o’clock the Physicians came and thought her complaint was checked in a degree, and that it was best she should be got up and have her bed changed.  This was a most arduous undertaking and one I feared that could not be accomplished without unhappy consequences.  However, it was done and she fell into a sound sleep.  It was then one o’clock.  I thought she would probably have a comfortable night, and I thought it best to return home, completely exhausted both in body and mind.

 

I passed a restless night and awoke in the morning, only to pass through a new scene of suffering, for my hopes of her having a comfortable night were blasted.  After having slept an hour, her complaint returned and in the morning was extremely low.  I now feared the scene would soon be over.  She declined speaking, was fully aware that she was very ill, but felt that God was all sufficient to save her.  I now cherished not the smallest hopes, but my grief was much aggravated by the belief that she would grow

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weaker and weaker and would not be able to say anything to her husband or to her family about her children.  This day passed in a most agonized state of mind.  I could not reflect for a moment upon the awful scene I was to go through without being overwhelmed with grief.  In the afternoon, Dr. Warren came in very unexpectedly with the other Physicians.  Never did I feel more grateful, for although I placed entire confidence in them, yet they were not acquainted with her constitution or her disease.  Dr. W appeared much astonished to find her in this state.  Never did I see a person more overjoyed than my dear Sister was upon being informed that he had come to see her.  She said "that Heaven had sent him just in season to save her" and appeared to be confident he would prescribe something that would check her disease.  I myself could not help having a hope.  He went into her room.  she spoke with much strength, related to him all the circumstances of her disease with accuracy, but afterwards was very much exhausted.  He did not make much alteration in the medicine and altho’ thought her extreme [sic] ill, yet was not without hopes.  She asked him if he ever knew of an instance of a person’s recovery after

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being reduced as low as she was.  He replied, Oh yes! that he did not consider her weakness anything, it was the disease.  

 

This night I came home, thinking it best as the Doctor did not apprehend any immediate change, and I knew Mother would not sleep any if she were alone, and it was necessary for my support to have some sleep.  When I awoke in the morning, I thought I should have felt better if I had set up, but I was solaced by the conviction that I had done my duty.  This was the morning of the Sabbath, another thought I will probably find my dear Sister a quiet inhabitant of the tomb, that bed upon which she has laid for so many months will be exchanged for a coffin.  But I trust her spirit will be found in Heaven.

 

I went over to see her, and found if there was any change, it was for the better.  Dr. W said he did not wish to give us any hopes, but that her disease was checked as much as he wished, and that she had not failed since the day previous, and these were certainly favourable symptoms.  

 

I went into her chamber, she looked up very bright.  I asked her how she did; she replied I am better,

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I feel as if I had something in me, as if I had some stomach.  How is my dear Babe? And where is Mr. Slade.  I have not seen him for two days.  I told her that he wished to see her very much, that he had not been in because he was afraid of disturbing her.  I called him.  She took him by the hand and said how, happy I feel, I am so comfortable, take care of my dear children, and now leave me as I want to go to sleep.

 

I felt very much encouraged through the day, altho’ Mother said she could not perceive any change.  In the evening, hiccups and nausea of the stomach came on.  These symptoms were a death blow to me.  I knew they often took place immediately before death.  The Doctor gave her something which removed them and said he saw no reason to apprehend any immediate change.  I persuaded Mother to go home, but I felt that it was impossible for me to leave her.  I went upstairs to try to compose myself, but sleep had fled from my eyes, my mind was entirely deranged.  I laid some time, at last got up and passed the night in wandering about the world, and everything connected with it was blotted from my mind.  I felt as if it would be happiness to exchange my fate with that of my dear Sister's.  Reflecting upon the responsibility that would devolve upon

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me made me shudder.  I then felt again that Heaven would not send more upon me than I was able to bear, and that I should be supported.  I tried [sic] again to calm myself by lying down, and at break of day I went home.  Here my feeling were constantly worked upon by the children who were playing about, in the unconscious cheerfulness of childhood, and entirely unaware of the loss they were about to sustain.  I called Eliza to me and asked her "if she knew her dear Mother was very sick and that she would never see her again."  She made no reply, was affected for a moment, and returned to her play, not being able to realize what I said.  

 

I endeavored to eat a little breakfast and returned, not to come back again, probably, until the scene was over.  She had gradually sunk away through the night.  She declined saying anything from extreme weakness.  I felt now not a glimmer of hope and almost wished that her release might be near.  John had performed the painful task the day before of informing Henry of this sad event.  I felt exceedingly for him.  I knew the shock would be dreadful for him as we had never expressed any fear with regard to her recovery, and the idea of his absence would aggravate his feelings. 

 

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John had never seen her since her confinement, and the idea of her dying without ever speaking to her seemed to be agonizing.  It was proposed to her several times, but she seemed to decline.  At length Mother thought it was best for him to go and sit by her bedside without saying anything to her.  He did so, and after sitting a few minutes, asked her how she did.  She replied "very sick, but God is all sufficient to support me and in Him is all my trust."  He asked her if she felt willing and prepared to die.  She said, "she desired to be resigned to God’s will, but that she did not feel prepared to die for she had been a great sinner."  She begged him not to say any thing more, for she was very weak.  He left her and nothing more was said.  A short time after, however, her husband went to her and asked her if she had nothing to say about her children.  She said, Oh yes! but not then, that she not able.  The whole day my heart was continually torn by seeing the children, who seemed to have placed themselves at the windows and were looking over to see what was going on, and to implore the protection of that parent whose whole happiness had centered in them.  My grief was also aggravated by the belief that she

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would die without expressing any wishes, or taking leave of her friends, or even being sensible of her situation, that she would grow weaker and weaker until the vital spark would be extinguished.  This was the greatest trial attending my dear Father's death, and I saw no hope but that it would be again renewed.  However I resigned myself to what Heaven should see fit to do and felt a composure of mind which I could not have expected at such a moment.  Perhaps it was given me by my dear Mother, who displayed an entire submission to the divine will.  Night came, and Dr. W thought my Sister would linger until the next day.  I begged Mother to go home, as even if she did die, she would be saved a trying scene, and one that could not afford her any comfort.  She consented.  I went up into her dressing room and remained until 12 o'clock, during which time she talked continually but very indistinctly, and appeared to be lost.  I then went upstairs, threw myself on the bed, and fell asleep from exhaustive [means exhaustion].  I soon awoke, went down and met Mr. S, who said there was not any change, and that he would lie down if I would stay at her bedside. I went to

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her.  Her breathing was short and difficult.  She was in much distress, and it seemed as if every struggle might be her last.  I thought I never could behold such a dreadful object.  I called Mr S and supposed she would breathe her last in a few minutes; as he approached the bed, her countenance suddenly changed.  The distress went off, and she put out her hand and said, is that you my dear husband.  After replying yes, she said, Tell me what the Doctor says, am I to live or die.  Oh my dear Eliza, he thinks that you can continue but a few hours.  I trust that you are about to exchange this world for a better, where I hope we shall all join you soon.  Oh my dear husband, how hard it is to die.  After so much suffering I have hoped that God would see fit to reward me by preserving my life and raising me to health, but as it is his will and pleasure to take me away, I submit, trusting in the mercy of God and my Savior Jesus Christ, who can pardon the greatest sinner.  I put my whole trust in him.  Oh my dear Babe, I have scarcely seen it since it was born, and I have always had a presentiment that the birth of this child would be my death.  My dear Eliza, it is a dear

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pledge of the sacrifice you have made for me, and I shall love and cherish it ten times more for your sake.  Send for a Minister, I want to see one directly.  Where is Mother?  She expressed her wish that Mr Wisnis[?] should be sent for in preference to Mr. G, but finding that he was out of town, we sent for Mr. Greene.  It was sometime before he came, during which she was in great distress of mind, constantly saying, why don’t he come?  I shall be gone.  I am dying.  Why cannot you bring him.  I cannot wait, I cannot wait.

 

Mother got over in a few minutes.  Upon going up to her, she said “Oh Mother, what a scene is this to call you to.  What an extraordinary providence that you should be raised from the borders of the grave to witness the dying bed of another of your children.  Oh my dear Mother, take care of my dear children.  What an awful thing it is to die.[”]  [“]I hope my dear child, you will be supported and that you are soon to meet your dear Father, for whom you have mourned so much.  He offered many prayers for you, while on earth, that the piety of your ancestors might descend to the latest generation.  Your good Aunts, too, have

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been constantly sending their prayers for you.  Do you feel resigned, my dear Eliza, do you put your trust in God?[”]  [“]I rely entirely upon my Savior.  I have been a great sinner, but he is able to wash away all sin.  Where is Mr. G.  I cannot wait.[”]  [“]God will, I trust, support you until he comes.[”]  [“]Dear Mrs. Wilder, how she will be shocked when she hears of my death.  I wish she would take my dear Babe.  She is so good, has such excellent principles.  Poor Henry, how he will be shocked when he hear I am gone.[”]  (I asked her if she had any message to send to him.  She said, tell him everything, tell him I love him.[)]  She then called me to her bed and said, Oh my dear Sister!  Be a sister and a mother to my poor children.  I told her I would take care of them as long as I lived, and kissed her cold forehead.  She said, O what a happy promise!  I then asked her if she had anything to give me as a dying token of her affection.  She said, Oh my dear Hannah, I leave everything to you, all is at your disposal.  At length Mr. Greene came.  She spoke to him as if she had been acquainted with him, and desired him to pray with her, which he did, and she responded with every word.  After he had finished,

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she told him “that she had forgotten to tell him that she had a young Babe who had never received the holy baptism and to desire him to pray for it.”  He accordingly knelt down again and prayed most fervently that her life might be spared, that she might grow up to be a blessing to her family and to the world.  She thanked him and said he had afforded her much comfort.  She appeared very happy, her mind perfectly bright.  She asked him many questions, particularly what his opinion respecting the spirits being immediately transferred to a state of happiness.  He said that he had not any doubt in his own mind upon this subject.  She immediately said, is it possible then that I am to meet my dear Father this day!  What a delightful thought!  She then asked him if he knew her Father.  He said he never was acquainted with him.  She said, you then never knew what a truly humble Christian was, so pious and so benevolent, and yet so unconscious of his virtues.  She then spoke of Mr & Mrs. W, that she believed them to be excellent people, doing a great deal of good in the world, and acting from the best of principles.  She desired me to give her love 

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to them, and to Mrs. S, and to all her friends, and said O what kind of friends I have had, and such excellent Nurses, pray reward them.  She then spoke of Dr. W, that she believed him to be an excellent man, and had done everything for her that he was capable.

 

She expressed her wish that she might not be buried under a week; through life, she had expressed her aversion to burying people so soon.

 

She then wished Mr. G to pray with her again, which he did most fervently, and all her faculties seemed to be as vivid as ever.  She repeated the hymn "Jesus can make a dying bed soft as downy pillows are."  He said, I hope you are willing to bear these suffering for your Savior who shed his blood for you and who has gone through the dark valley of the shadow of death.  She said O yes! 

 

At this time she appeared in much bodily distress, but in a few moments it passed off, and she said she felt perfectly happy and desired Mr. G might go, that she might be left alone with her family.  After he had gone, she said she wished to see Dr. W.  I told her it was very early, but that he would come to see her as soon as he was up.  She replied immediately, do not suppose that I think he can do anything for me.  I am passed all human aid.  I want to see

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him to thank him for his attentions.  We sent for him, but it was a long time before he came, during which time she evinced great stress, and said she should be gone before he got there.  However, he came at about seven.  When he came into the room, she said that he had come too late, and would only thank him for his kindness and attention.  She asked for some drop which she thought would enable her to speak.  Which being given, she made an effort to speak.  He begged her not to exert herself, that her religious feelings were already known to him, that they had had several conversations together upon this subject, and that he was well aware she had not left it to a dying hour.  After sitting a few minutes, he left her and said he would return in half an hour.  She never spoke, and for about ten minutes she appeared in the greatest agony, crying out "O God, have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me.  O God, spare me."  From this, she fell into a tranquil state, her breathing was perfectly easy, her hands were clasped upon her breast.  Her breath gently died away, until it ceased without a movement, and we could not tell when she was gone until we saw the change in her countenance.  O what a

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moment was this!  O who can tell that has not experience it, the heart rending agony of the soul when the spirit of a beloved friend has just departed.  The idea that all is at an end causes those feelings to suck upon the soul which had been in a degree supposed from intense anxiety, with overwhelming power.  The mind exhausted by excitement yields to the feebler propensities of our natures and produces an agony of soul which is indescribable.  We have nothing to do but picture to our minds the loss we have sustained.

 

In my dear Father's death, I felt a calmness and peace of mind, which to others I presume appeared singular.  But when I saw him draw his last breath, it was with perfect resignation.  I had for a long time realized entirely that he was to be taken from us.  I felt assured that he was prepared, that he had lived a good old age, that if he was spared a little longer, his days would be those of sorrow.  He had lived to see his children grown up and their character formed.  These convictions operated so forcibly upon my mind that I felt it would be wicked to utter a murmur, and I have to this day experienced

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the same feelings.  But at the moment when my dear Sister breathed her last, there seemed everything to aggravate and to make the trial more severe.  She filled the several relations of wife, mother, daughter, and sister, in all of which she was equally important.  As a mother, she was most devoted and affectionate and instilled the best principles.  She had brought a little infant into the world for whom she endured all the sufferings to which the human frame is subjected, and who now needed all the cares of a Mother.  She had just got comfortably fixed in a new house, and had every elegance & luxury about her.  One brother had just formed a very pleasing connexion (an event which had long been desired and which was never made known to her).  The other was in a foreign land.  Her Mother had hardly recovered from a severe illness but was in a very feeble state, and I feared that this renewed shock would be more than her feeble frame could bear.  I felt that in a moment three helpless innocent little beings was thrown upon my hands.  The agony of my mind was almost insupportable, but Heaven gave me

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strength, and I have been carried through it.  The longer I live, the more I am convinced that we have strength given us to support the trials to which we are called, and the earlier we learn this lesson the better.

 

It is generally looked upon as a lamentable thing that such young persons should be brought to drink deeply the cup of affliction, but if these trials are rightly used, may they not be the means of increasing our future happiness?  May we not look upon the world and all its vanities in a tower[?] light?  Shall we not be led to seek for happiness within ourselves?  It appears to me that they have this direct tendency, and I fully believe that there are many who have lived to that day when they could look upon these afflictions experienced early in life as their greatest blessings. 

 

It is necessary that the mind should be roused[?], that the soul should be so tried that it may bring its energies into action.  I feel that the responsibility devolving upon me at the present time is immense, but I trust I shall be directed in the path of duty, and strengthened to preserve it, and I have no doubt that the care of these children will be a great

[p.54]

source of improvement to me through life.

 

I have determined that wherever they may be, I will devote myself to them, for I feel that I have failed in performing my duty towards their Mother, and that this is the only way I can retrieve this neglect.  Above all, I trust I shall be enabled to perform my duties towards my dear Mother, to be her staff and support in her declining years and under her renewed trials.  What entire forgetfulness of myself is imposed upon me when I consider her bereavement!  What trial more heart-rending can be imagined that of a widowed Mother’s living to see one child after another cut down in the midst of life and usefulness?  O God!  Grant that I may so act my part in life, that I may so perform my duties, that when sickness or bereavement befals me, I may possess a quiet conscience.  I trust I shall always be guided by principle, and that inclination will never control my sense of right.  With regard to my dear Mother, I am resolved always to yield my desires to her comfort and happiness, never to leave her when my presence could add to her

[p.55]

pleasure.

 

January 1st 1827

This day is the commencement of a new year, and O what heart rending feelings does it call forth!  Little did I anticipate the last new-years day the trials which have been experienced during the past year.  Happy is it that we cannot!  The retrospection of the past makes me tremble to look forward to the future, but it is our duty to leave every event to the disposal of Him who knoweth what is best for us, and who will not send more upon us than were are able to bear.  If I could have anticipated my suffering during the last year, I should have thought it impossible to have lived, but I have been carried through it and am now restored to tranquility of mind, a striking proof that strength is given to us to endure the trials that Heaven sees fit to send upon us.

 

When I look back upon past scenes, I am amazed at myself & think sometimes it shows a want of feeling not to be entirely cast down, but I am convinced that this is a state of mind in which it is wrong to indulge, and I have fought against it.  Our duties cannot be performed while the mind is overpowered with grief, but my selfish feelings often gain the ascendancy and Heaven alone

[p.56]

knows the hours that have been spent in tears for my beloved Sister.  I know of no harder task that the Christian has to perform than that of yielding his will entirely to that of the Almighty, and no stronger proof could be given to my mind of the perfection of a character than the attainment of this power.

 

The care and responsibility which has devolved upon me during the past year is indeed great, and at times it almost overwhelmed me, but I trust I shall have judgment given me to act and principle to perform my duties faithfully.

 

[The following passage was written after Jan. 1, 1827 and before Dec. 21, 1830.]

Days, months, and even years have passed since anything as been recorded in this book.  Has it been that no events have occurred to excite my feelings or lead me to reflection?  Or that I have grown more worldly and am more taken up with its vanities.  To neither of these queries does my heart respond.  This interval of time had bought about great & remarkable changes in our family.  It has been a period of constant anxiety and gloomy anticipation for the future.  

 

In the spring of 1827 my brother J was

[p.57]

married, much to our satisfaction, and they travelled most of the summer.  In September my brother H returned from Europe after two years absence, apparently in health, and this winter I went into society, for the first time I may say, and enjoyed it proportionably.  Not a care or an anxiety had I upon my mind.  The following summer I went to Niagara, attended by my brother H, with Mrs. Perkins family, and never did a human being enjoy 8 weeks more entirely than I did.  But how have my recollections of this period been saddened by succeeding events.  When I look back upon this journey, it is with the deepest emotion.  Some of its hours I am persuaded were the most delightful I ever shall enjoy, hours spent in viewing the wonderful works of God, and in reciprocation of thought & sentiment.  How sacredly does memory cherish them!  But how sad are my feelings when I recollect the pain which those hours have occasioned, so true it is that there is no unmixed happiness in this world.  As soon as I came home my brother communicated to me his misfor-

[p.58]

tunes, and from that time to the present moment, a gloomy image is placed before me.  Hours and hours have been passed in intense thought and deep anxiety, but I trust while dwelling upon the trials of past time, I shall not forget its mercies.  My dear Mother has been restored to health after those severe illnesses, my own health had been preserved, and thus I have been enabled to perform my duties to my Mother and the children.  I fear I have not been sufficiently grateful for this mercy.  I know of no blessing which is so apt to be highly esteemed by us, and it is only in the hour of pain that we feel its full value.  When I compare my present state to that which I experienced for my years in my childhood, I am astonished at my insensibility & ingratitude.  How fervently I ought to bless God that those days of weakness and suffering were allotted me when the calls upon my powers of mind or body were few, and that I was so early taught to sympathize with and relieve the sufferings of others.  How miserably should I have performed the duties of a Nurse (a station

[p. 59]

which I have been constantly called to fill the last four years) had I not been so long the object of them, and how inadequate should I be to perform my present duties, which require the whole energy of my body and mind, if I was enfeebled by sickness and disease.  How strikingly is the goodness of God manifested in every event of life!  O that I may ever acknowledge and feel it!

 

December 21st 1830-

This day is the anniversary of my birth day.  24 years of my life has been completed and Oh, how has it been completed, and Oh, how has it been spent.  What good am I now experiencing that has resulted from the right improvement of time?  These are solemn questions and require serious investigation.  My past life seems like a dream.  I cannot realize that I have experienced so many changes, and its reality is alone proved to me by recalling those periods of trial which have crossed my path.  I recollect sitting down some months after the death of my Father, when the first gush of affliction had passed, and anticipating my future prospects.  They seemed cloudless, a large

[p.60]

portion of this worlds goods were in the possession of each one of us.  My Sister was situated in a handsome new house with every luxury about her.  My Mother enjoyed good health.  Both my Brothers were promising characters and bid fair to take the first stand in society, and I anticipated an eligible connection for each of them, and the happy hours I should pass in the society of one or the other.  But how time has severed this picture!  My Sister is laid in the dust, her husband in a foreign land, separated from his children and thrown upon my care.  One brother in poverty and obliged to remove himself hundreds of miles from his family to earn his daily bread.  The other scarcely less impoverished, and myself left alone, as it were, in the world, and stripped of half my property by the most unexpected & aggravating circumstances.  Such is life.  What a lesson does it teach of the uncertainty of everything here below and of the infinite importance of laying a more secure foundation for our happiness.  I often find myself brooding over these changes and regretting this and wishing that, but is it right so to do?

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Are not the most trifling events ordered by an infinitely wise Being?  And am I not defeating their purpose by indulging this temper?  When I look about me and see the various and severe trials to which others are called, and then bring before me the numerous blessings of which I am the possessor, and my entire unworthiness of the least of them, I am silenced at once and amazed at my ingratitude.  Oh may prosperity never be my portion if it is to make me insensible to the goodness of God!

 

January 1st 1831.-

The commencement of a new year naturally leads us to look back upon the past and forward to the future  The hours of anxiety & pain, as well as those of pleasure, are brought to our minds, and anticipations of happiness are formed for the future, according as our minds are impressed by the past.  For myself, if I were to follow this rule, I fear the picture would be far from a cloudless one.  Numerous have been the hours of trial and the sources of anxiety, but I have been supported under them and enabled to preserve my cheerfulness,

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and I trust have felt no disposition to murmur or repine.  The change of circumstances experienced in our family is indeed great and by no means a common one.  The highest prospects, so far as it regards this worlds goods, have been entirely reduced and this by the most unforseen & unparalled circumstances, but I have not felt this as painful except as being the cause of breaking up our family, of removing a near & dear Brother & Sister far from us, and the fear that our misfortunes might follow us so closely as to deprive my Mother of some of her comforts in her old age.  This has been a bitter thought to me.

 

With regard to the loss of my own property, I can say that it would have cost me but little trouble had it not been connected with the downfall of the whole family, from the feeling that I was deprived of the power of doing at the moment when it was most needed.  My anticipations of happiness have never been drawn, nor my desires increased, from the possession of riches, and I now fell that the enjoyment of the comforts of life would fully satisfy me.  No, the pain which I have realized for myself has arisen from

[p.63]

the anticipation of the future.  I have trembled when I have looked at my Mother and seen upon what a thread her life was hung, and realized the situation in which I should then be placed.  Not a being was there upon whom I had any claims, excepting my Brothers, and one of them in a distant land, and both equally unable to aid me.  My heart now almost sinks within me as I write down these feelings, and yet not a day passes that they do not occupy my mind.  But I desire to feel that God is gracious, he had placed me in this situation for wise purposes.  And I think I may say that I have possessed a trust, a confidence, that I should be taken care of by that Being without whose knowledge not even a sparrow falleth to the ground.  It is this alone which has supported me.  I have and still continue to live upon the hope that time will bring about some change to relieve my anxiety.  

 

But I trust whilst dwelling upon my trials this day will not pass without deep & sincere emotions of gratitude for its numerous mercies.  How far do they outweigh them!  My Mothers life & health have been preserved and this mercy is sufficient

[p.64]

to balance all other trial.  She had been supported and enabled to bear with cheerfulness the adversity of her children and to assist and direct me in the performance of my duties, and Oh when I reflect upon my entire unworthiness, the deficiency of my best purposes, and the days and weeks that have passed upon which I can reflect with scarcely any feeling but a vain regret, if not with penitence and shame, and when above all I think how short this life is when compared with another and am assured that these trials are necessary to fit me for the enjoyment of this eternal state, am I to regret them?  And to indulge a spirit of complaint.  No!  Let me rather bless God that he has permitted me to live & afforded me these means of improvement.

 

In looking back upon the past, I am conscious that though I have not indulged a spirit of complaint, yet too many hours have been spent in gloomy forebodings & anxieties for the future which ought to have been occupied in ascertaining the extent of my relative duties & rousing myself to perform them with new vigor in improving my mind & heart, subduing my passions,

[p.65]

regulating my desires.  

 

I am placed in a most responsible situation.  Three children have been thrown upon my care, and oh how important is it that my example should be a correct one!  And when I reflect that their whole happiness in life depends upon their present education and the influence they will exercise upon others as they advance in life and form connections in society, I shrink from the task, but I remember a remark of Dr. Channings’s “that God never places beings in a relation to each other without giving them strength to perform the duties arising from it.”   This I firmly believe and it is upon this conviction alone that I am encouraged to go on.  I feel that I have been deficient in not making them more a subject of thought in trying to enlighten their minds & studying their different characters & adapting the course of education to each.  I have not realized sufficiently the infinite importance of beginning to give them just views of life, the true sources of happiness and the object for which they were sent into the world.  May this year be commenced with new purposes of strengthening & improving

[p.66]

my own views and of communicating them to others.

 

January 27th 1831.-

Little did I imagine at the commencement of this year that I should so soon have occasion to record so important an event of my life as my engagement with a man whom I have every reason to respect and love and in whose affections I can place the most entire confidence.  Every wish of my heart is gratified and I feel that an entire new life is opened before me.  A friend is given me who will enter into all my joys and all my sorrows.  O may I be grateful for this gift, how plainly do I now see that my Heavenly Father careth for me.

 

October 23rd 1831  Sunday morning

Nine months have rolled away since a line has been written in this book and this day being probably the last of my single life, I am naturally led to look back upon it & to recal the different ways in which it has been spent, its trials & its pleasures.  My anticipations at its commencement were bright & full of interest, a new path seemed to be laid open before me.  A friend had been

[p.67]

given me who met all my hopes and of whose affections I felt I had entire possession.  Mine were also placed upon him.  I was to be connected with a family whom I had every reason to regard & admire.  Thus far I can truly say all my hopes have been realized, every pleasure which the reciprocation of love & affection can furnish has been mine.  But can I say that this period has not been fraught with sever trials - Oh no!  It has had its hours of severe suffering, and from a source which I perhaps had the least reason to expect, that of alienation of feeling in my Brother from pecuniary affairs. 

 

I will not wound my heart by recalling any circumstances, suffice it to say that my imagination has always pictured it to me as the greatest trial to which I could be called, but I have been supported & strengthened under it from the conviction that I was in no degree the means of creating it, and that since its existence I have never cherished the least unkind feeling, but my heart & mind have been open to receive any facts and to do what was right, & I can with truth say at this moment that if everything could be so explained as to remove all unpleasant

[p.68]

impressions, my heart would gladly embrace the warmest affections of a Sister.  But why do I dwell upon this subject, is it in a spirit of complaint?  Oh no! far be it from me, how much do my blessings & my mercies outweigh my trials.  Beside the freedom of my own heart, I have had the satisfaction of knowing that that friend with whom I was to be connected for life was governed by the strictest principles, the purest sense of right & wrong, & affection for me, and what is every other trial compare with this blessing.  O may my heart rise with deep emotions of gratitude to God this day for raising such a friend.

 

The lesson I would desire to learn by the retrospect of the past is that I am not to expect unmixed happiness, that I must not depend upon outward circumstances of particular events for my enjoyment.   It must arise from the improvement of my own character and the resources within me.  I must live for the day & realize its mercies.  Our life is made up of minutes which we must enjoy as they pass & as circumstances will permit.  This life was designed to be a state of trial and it is necessary for us to call off our minds from the follies and

[p.69]

vanities of the world and to teach us what we are to depend upon for our happiness and what is our chief good.

 

In looking back upon the past I recal it as a scene of trial, & can I say that it has ended, that my heart is without a sorrow at the present moment, and that my mind is free to enjoy itself when entering upon the married state?  Oh no!  My marriage is to be intimately blended with sickness and death.  The first duty which I shall probably be called upon to perform is to console my husband under the loss of an affectionate & beloved Parent and to unite with him in following him to the grave.

 

That event which I had anticipated as a source of happiness to myself and an era from which to date an entire change of life and a cause of joy to others is to be one of gloom and trial.  

 

Mr. Mason senior was taken sick six weeks since and altho’ his disease has been severe & many symptoms were discouraging, still I have buoyed up myself in the belief that he had sufficient strength to contend with it & that this cloud would eventually be removed, but my hopes within the last fortnight have been blasted and I have been obliged to bring my mind to be married under these

[p.70]

circumstances.  When the desire was first expressed to me that it should take place immediately, I felt a sinking of my soul which I can hardly describe.  I felt that a cloud had gathered over me which would follow me to my grave, and I found my strength not equal to the trial, accordingly it was put off for a few days, at which time I was taken sick which ended all uncertainty.  In the mean time hoped that this delay was to answer some purpose and that in the end I should be married under brighter circumstances.  But my present prospect is a dull one.  However tomorrow's sun may still shine brightly upon me.  I desire to leave it to Heaven to do as seemeth him good.

 

Monday Morning October 24th 1831

This evening was the one appointed for my marriage, but this morning Mr. M. is supposed to be dying, and I have made up my own mind to be married without any delay.  O may I be strengthened to perform this solemn act, may I realize the new duties it imposes upon me, and may I be willing to set self aside and devote all my powers

[p.71]

in consoling and strengthening the object of my love in this period of affliction?

 

January 1st 1832-

More than two months have passed since I entered upon the married state, most of which time has been spent in sickness and of course in perfect retirement.  Two friend have I followed to the grave & others have been taken away in whom I was interested, and in fact it has altogether been a season of much thought & seriousness, but I can with truth say it has been one of the purest enjoyment.  The reciprocation of thought and & sentiment and the truest affection - how close and how tender is the tie between man & wife, and oh with what care should it be cherished!  How necessary is it often to examine ourselves, to study the character of our friend, and to look into our own hearts & ascertain what have been the state of our feelings through the day, whether we have consulted the wishes & feelings of our friend more than our own, whether no wrong feeling has interrupted that flow of tender love which a woman must ever possess to be happy.  

 

I am persuaded that the more the warmth & ardor of

[p.72]

affection is kept up between man & wife, the more secure is their foundation for happiness.  It enables them to meet & bear the trials of life with more firmness, to depend less on outward circumstances, and leads to greater diligence in the improvement of their characters.  This day, tho' shadowed by clouds, is marked with peculiar blessings which I desire to realize and dwell[?] upon, my heart would rise in gratitude to God for the preservation of the life & health of my dear and only Parent.  O may I realize & enjoy this mercy while it is continued to me, may I feel the privilege of possessing her example & her precepts, and of being permitted still to perform the duties & attentions of a daughter, and in the coming year may this be a subject to which my heart would involuntarily turn for support when met by any trial or disappointment of life.

 

I think I may look forward to the coming year as one in which I may realize much rational enjoyment, and tho' the experience of the past checks bright anticipations, and tho' I cannot but feel that my life is still to be a checkered one, yet I have a friend to share my griefs, and I cannot but trust that I am more enabled to meet them.

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I would only trust that to whatever trials I may be called, the path of duty may be laid plain before me, and that I may be so enabled to follow it as to keep a conscience void of offence

 

Dec 21st 1832

Again has Heaven been pleased to bring me to the anniversary of my birth day.  Another year has rolled away, never to return, and brought me one year nearer to the tomb, and oh how rapid has been its flight, and yet how many scenes does memory bring forward to mark it in the retrospect of my life.  How strikingly has the goodness and power of God been displayed to me in the past year, a year of weakness and bodily infirmity, and yet have I been enabled to support it and to give birth to two children & am now restored to confirmed health & strength.  How many hours have been spent in vain anxieties & sad forebodings, how many in ingratitude & impatience, and yet these sins have been returned with distinguished mercies.  Oh may I be deeply humiliated in the recollection of the past and may I be taught the necessity of entire trust & confidence in God, 

[p.74]

and that firm belief in the wisdom of his appointments as to be willing to commit myself and all that is dear to me entirely to his disposal.

 

I find myself on this day in the enjoyment of every earthly blessing and may I be duly grateful, may I evince my gratitude by my life & conduct, may I not allow myself to be disturbed by the little trials & disappointments of the day, but oh God, let prosperity lead me to Thee, to a deeper sense of my unworthiness and to renewed purposes of obedience.

 

January 1st 1833-

One year has been closed & another has this morning dawned upon me.  It finds me in possession of comparative health and strength and with infinite sources of gratitude, and though Heaven has seen fit to disappoint fond and tender hopes, yet I would desire to look back to that moment with gratitude and free from every regret.  We cannot forsee the future.  We know not what is best for us and a belief in the wisdom & goodness of Gods appointments should remove every desire to have them changed.  I feel that I have still cause for impressing my mind with these truths.  This day does not come upon me

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without a cloud.  It finds my dear Mother prostrate on a bed of sickness, and tho' there is nothing at present to cause anxiety, still fears & doubts will intrude.  Early before breakfast, the maid put into my hands a Bible accompanied with a note.  This testimony of her love was indeed precious to me, but I received it with a pang which I can hardly describe.  It seems to me an omen that this year may be the last, and oh what a thought is this!  But I will not indulge in sad anticipations.

 

In going to her bedside to receive her affectionate embraces, she received me with me with peculiar tenderness & expressed her gratitude that I had been spared, and we were again permitted to meet on this happy day.  It finds me, said she, on the bed of sickness, God alone knows what the termination of it may be.  

 

May this day not pass without forming new purposes of performing the duties of life with increased faithfulness, without deep examination of the past, without much penitence for the many hours spent in vanity, trifling thoughts, impatience & ingratitude.  O may I feel the infinite importance of setting a guard over my thoughts.  May I be cleansed from all my secret sins.

 

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April 21st 1833-

This day has cut off all the hopes to which I have hitherto clung for so many months with such earnestness, has confirmed the fears I have so long indulged that my dear Mother is soon to be taken from me, that the life which seems to form a part of my own existence is soon to be destroyed, that another tie to earth is to be removed.  O God may I be supported in this severe trial.  May I not doubt the wisdom and goodness of that hand which gives and which takes away, but remember "that whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth."  May her cheerfulness in the prospect of death, her confidence that Gods time is the best time, give me tranquility and enable me still to administer to the wants & contribute to the comfort of those days which may remain to her.

 

My Mother died May 5th (Sunday).

 

May 9th

The event has been realized which I was called to anticipate when I last wrote in this book, an event which through my whole life whenever brought to my mind filled me with

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the deepest emotion and appeared insupportable, but Heaven has been pleased to carry me through is and tho' my spirit is bowed down with grief, he has permitted me to see and feel his goodness which has been so freely mixed in this cup of trial.  May it lead me to trust in Him in the future.  My dear Mother has gone from me.  Her image which was always before me and her countenance so filled with affection & tenderness for her child will be seen no more, but heart-rendering as this truth is, I desire thankfully to acknowledge that she had been mercifully dealt with and that this trial could not have been brought to me under more alleviating circumstances.

 

Oh that I might imbibe her spirit of resignation which breathed itself forth from her dying lips and led her to praise God for all his dealing with her, both in her trials as well as her blessings.  

 

May my mind dwell upon those source of comfort which are offered to me, that my Mothers life was spared to me so long as to see me connected in life, that I was never obliged to separate myself from her, that there

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was so much communion of thought & feeling between us that I have such reason to believe she was happy in my character and her intercourse with me, that her last year was such a cheerful one, that her sickness was not attended with distressing pain, that I was able to administer constantly to her wants, that she was so cheerful in the anticipation of death, so satisfied with the past and so firmly convinced that now was the best time, that the ends of life had been answered, that her lengthened days would be those of pain and that she should exchange this scene of trial for one of unmixed joy and happiness.

 

May the sense of my own loss be softened by the conviction of her gain.  Let me not look upon her as in the grave but removed from this scene of trial to an existence of perfect happiness.  An existence for which it was the object of her life to prepare herself and which her spirit longed for and her Faith led her to feel would be her portion tho' her humility showed her her unworthiness of it.

 

Let one dwell upon her character, her virtues, her strict

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adherence to the performance of duty, her acquiescence to the will of Heaven under the severest trials, her unwearied kindnesses to her children, her constant expressions of affection and interest in them and her anxiety for their spiritual welfare.  

 

May the retrospection of my own life which has been a constant manifestation of her love be a balm to my soul, and O may her instructions, her example and death be the means of implanting within me some of her Christian graces and fitting me for an entrance into that world of which she is now an inhabitant and where we shall meet to part no more.

 

May 19th Sabbath

A fortnight has now passed since my dear Mother closed her eyes in death and in what state of mind does it find me?  More submissive to Gods will, more sensible of my need of this correction, more desirous of following her example and more willing to commit myself and all that is dear to me to his disposal, to leave the future to be

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directed by Him who will do for me infinitely better that I can ask or think?  These are important questions.

 

In examining my heart I think I am not possessed of any spirit of rebellion in this afflictive bereavement, but I do feel that it will require the whole energy of my nature to contend against a depressing saddening view of life which a long series of trial has led me.  I fear that while dwelling upon what has been taken from me, I shall not dwell sufficiently upon the mercies I still enjoy.   I fear I do not realize the gift of life, of being made an heir of immortality and the comparative lightness of these trials to that weight of glory which they are designed to work out for me.  O may I have a deeper sense of this truth, may it enable me to bear with more cheerfulness this sorrow which is so wearisome, and above all may my dear Mothers experience of life, which enabled her to express her strong conviction in the last hour that all her trials had been ordered in [p.81]

infinite mercy and love and that she blessed God for every one of them, induce me to stifle every murmur and bear with Christian submission whatever is in store for me.  Let me not look forward but perform the duties of the day with fidelity and cheerfulness and bear its trials with weakness and patience.

 

Sabbath Morning May 26th

Another week has gone.  The day upon which my dear Mothers spirit took its flight has again returned, and oh how many recollections and associations does it bring with it.  What a day was it of meditation and prayer, not only during her sickness but through her life.  How much did she enjoy public worship.  How sacredly did she devote the whole day to the service of God and how constantly do I find myself enquiring where is she now, what her employments, what her state?  How have these inquiries, which occupied so much of her thoughts while

[p.82]

on earth, been answered.  What has been her experience now that that veil is removed which her Faith while on earth did not seek to penetrate?

 

It seems while sitting in her chamber and recalling the conversations we had together upon these subjects that her removal from me is dream, that it is not possible she can have passed through this change and is now an inhabitant of that world from whence no traveller returns.

 

What an object was it with her to make death familiar, to live in constant preparation for it, and to feel when she laid down upon her bed the entire uncertainty whether she saw the morning light.  How full of instruction is her life and death.  How much have I to guide me in my thoughts, words & actions.  Oh let me not be ungrateful in the midst of my grief for having had such a Parent and that her life was prolonged until I was old enough to appreciate her worth and as I hope derived some benefit from it.  O may her earnest prayers and supplications that these renewed bereavements and trials might be sanctified

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to her children, be answered, and O may their lives and their deaths bear testimony to the efficacy of pious instruction and holy example.

 

Sabbath June 26th

This Sabbath is probably the last one that I shall ever spend in this house, a spot every part of which seems to be sacred and to speak of those that are gone.   A spot which witnessed my birth, my advance to childhood, to youth and now to mature years, which has witnessed the constant care, solicitude and exertions of two beloved Parents.  A spot where I have passed so many anniversaries of this holy day.  How sacredly and profitably have they been spent by my dear Mother and how unwearied was she in exerting her influence upon those about her to do likewise.  How many associations and recollections does every chair and table bring to mind.  When I seat myself in my Mothers room and chair which has stood in the same spot from my earliest recollection

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and which is always filled with her image, how many scenes does memory recal and how entirely are the subjects of these scenes removed.  Every individual connected with my past life has gone from me and when these inanimate objects are removed, if it were not for memory, my past life would seem a blank and I should feel as if I were just beginning life.  This house in all my past life has been an asylum in which I have found peace.  No one, I think, can have experienced more of the real feeling of home than I have done, and now that I am to seek these feelings in other places, it seems as if I could never enjoy them in an equal degree again.  But let not that goodness which has been so constantly manifested in the past allow me to be anxious for the future.  Let me be grateful that Heaven has seen fit to give me such ample means that I may be allowed to indulge my taste and feelings and thus to provide me a residence equally desirable with that I now enjoy.  That he has provided me a husband who is ready to gratify my wishes and whose pleasure it is to promote

[p.85]

my happiness and who so greatly fills the place of that dear Parent who is taken from me.  O may I not be insensible to these gifts but above all let me not place too much dependance upon outward circumstances.  May I feel their inefficacy to produce happiness if all is not right within and my ability of being happy in the possession of this inward peace 

 

January 1st 1834

Another year of my life has passed away and again am I permitted to meet a New-Year but under what different circumstances does it come to me from the last!  What a change has my Mothers removal made in every thing.  How are her affectionate embraces missed by me and how forcibly is her image brought before me lying on the bed the last New-Year, her lips uttering the warmest expressions of gratitude for the mercies of the past and the most fervent prayers that they might be continued to her child in the future and that she might bow with

[p.86]

submission to her Fathers will, whatever it might be concerning her, and might be ready to obey his call whenever she should be prepared.  How great is the loss of such a parent, what a void has it made in my heart, what a different thing life is to me!  When I look back upon the scenes of my childhood and recal the expressions of affection, the anxious fears, and the solicitude and thought of which I was the object, my heart is moved and I am ready to say “Oh that it were as in days past.”

 

This year I must look back upon as one of severed suffering to myself but which has translated my dear Mother from a scene of trial to one of unmixed joy and happiness.  Oh may this conviction silence me.  Let not my affections be so selfish as to wish to call her back.  Let me not while dwelling upon the happiness of the past be insensible to the mercies of the present.  I have nothing but gratitude to offer for all Heavens dealings with me.  May I especially feel the great goodness of God in raising me up such a friend & companion in my dear husband.  One who is so congenial to my feelings and taste and who is so fitted

[p.87]

to make me happy.  May I be enabled to perform all the duties of an affectionate wife to return his unwearied care and tenderness.  May we live together in love, walk in the paths of virtue and holiness so that when called to separate, we may hope to live together in heaven.  May I be grateful that this year while it has taken away has also raised up new and valued friends and that I am led reasonably to anticipate new ties of affection and interests. 

 

Sunday March 23rd

A most solemn & afflictive death has taken place this day, one which from the similarity of my situation and my interest in the individual is brought peculiarly home to me.  She who but yesterday was walking our streets cheerful & happy in pleasing anticipation of the future is now stretched in the arms of death and her soul an inhabitant of another world.  How overwhelming the change, how difficult to realize, and oh what a striking proof of the uncertainty of life!

 

[p.88]

My interest in this individual was great not only from a conviction of her worth but from her being connected with many scenes of my childhood and youth.  Her Mother I loved and reverenced, she was always a standard to my youthful mind of great talent, exalted virtue and warm affections, and there is no one out of my own family whose memory I have cherished with such pleasure from the delightful impression which my childish intercourse with her produced.  

 

From various circumstances I have had but little intercourse with Mrs. Channing since our marriage, but whenever we did meet it was with feeling resulting from long acquaintance and perfect confidence in the sincerity of each others feelings.  This winter she has been a frequent subject of my thoughts & sympathy, and I now look back upon a visit which I paid her about six weeks since with the greatest satisfaction.  I was then met by all that interest and warmth of feeling for which she was ever remarkable.

 

Her death has occasioned the most serious reflections as to the uncertainty of my own

[p.89]

life.  My ties to this world are not numerous but proportionally strong.  My dear husband with whom I have now been connected more than two years is an object for whom I must desire to live most earnestly if it be Heavens will.  Our happiness in each other has been great and I cannot but be conscious of my ability of affording it to him as well as my possession of it.  But another and I trust a stronger reason for desiring life is the hope that by its continuance I may be better prepared for the great exchange.  My Christian life seems to be just dawning upon me and I would wish to have more to look back upon with satisfaction and to realize more of the fruits of the experienced Christian to support me in the last hour.  But I hope I shall not be too desirous of life, that I shall be willing to yield myself into the hands of my Maker.  That my experience of God's goodness in past will lead me to touch him in the future, will dispel all anxiety and produce a deep conviction that whatever he shall appoint will be in infinite wisdom and goodness.

 

[p.90]

 

This little Book commenced for the purpose of recording the first bereavement of my youth (the death of my Father) and continued for the expression of my youthful feelings under a succession of trying events which occurred in the course of a few years has been discontinued since the birth of my dear Lilly, a period of almost eleven years.  This silence had been interrupted only in one instance and that was at the time of Lilly's sickness at Walpole when 2 1/2 years old.  I then committed some of my feelings to paper and shall transfer them to this Book.  In looking back I cannot but wonder at this silence, tho' every days experience tells me to what causes it is to be attributed, viz my ill health, the loss of my eyes, and the increase[?] of family cares.  The satisfaction and pleasure which I now receive from refreshing my memory with the early events of my life causes me

[p.91]

not only to regret this long silence but determines me to try to fill up this vacuum by a record of its most important events and to continue it in the future that if God should see fit to spare my life I may be enabled to gather from the past news and stronger convictions of the wisdom & goodness of all Gods appointments and dealing with me and also a firmer faith in his power to sustain under the severest trials of life.  But another and as powerful a motive has urged me to continue these pages that if my life should be taken away before my children had arrived at mature years (an event which my state of health often leads me to fear) they may have something from which they may from some form some knowledge of their Mothers mind and feelings and of her experiences in life.

 

[p.92]

 

Sunday Sept. 11th 1836

This day should not pass without recording the great goodness of God in raising up my dear little Lillie from the borders of the grave & restoring me once more to tranquility & happiness.  Her disease, which for ten days assumed the most alarming appearance & gave me the most distressing apprehensions for the future, was a trial, new in experience.  My imagination alone had painted to me a parent’s feelings under such circumstances.  Never before had the chords of my heart seemed to vibrate with such intensity.  In all former trials, I was the child, to yield & submit and to feel the loss of direction & support.  Now, I was to act, to sustain, & to take the responsibility of a Christian parent.  Oh how did I feel my incapacity!  How dark life seemed to me!  How did it prove the weakness of my best purposes!  Since the birth of my children,

[p.93]

it has always been my earnest desire, not to place my affections too strongly upon them, but to enjoy them as Gods gifts, which he had a perfect right to recal, whenever he should see fit, and whilst continued to me should be living manifestations of his love.  And that I might have such a strong, abiding faith, in His wisdom & goodness, as to lead me to place them in his hands, dispel all anxiety, in the firm conviction, that all would be ordered for me better than I could ask or think.  But how clearly has it been proved to me, that I had no such faith!  I was at once desirous to have my will done, rather than Gods will!  Oh God forgive my weakness!  Teach me the deceitfulness of my heart, & lead me to closer self examination, and now that this cloud is removed, let me not forget its teachings.  May I feel a new sense of my dependance upon God, for all I possess, a new conviction, that we must place our hearts on heavenly things, and a new accountability

[p.94]

to train this child aright, early to implant the seeds of love & holiness, and to teach her by my own example, the pleasantness of virtue, and the peace of a well spent life.

 

[on recto side of last leaf]

My second boy was born July 2nd 1837 on Sunday afternoon 1/2 past 4 o'clock weighed 8 pds. 2 ounces.  At six weeks weighed 12 pds.