Memoir of Mrs. Susan Howard, late of the South American mission

Preface

In this little volume will be found the simple and unaffected evidences of a devoted Christian spirit ; the meek and quiet records of one who loved her Saviour, and whose highest desire and cherished hope to the last was, that she might do and suffer her Master's will She was deeply imbued with a missionary spirit; her longing wish was to be engaged in active missionary labor. If the Lord did not fully satisfy her thirsting soul in this respect, she was at least called into situations and circumstances of trial and privation that gave the highest evidences of her faith and unreserved consecration to the cause of her Redeemer.

PREFACE.

The filial and devoted affection constantly manifested by Mrs. Howard, in her letters, toward her parents, sisters, and brothers, will find a warm response in every heart. They are. also worthy of admiration on account of their mere literary merits. Although written without a distant thought of their publication, yet they will be found to be beautiful and natural specimens of a chaste epistolary style.

The compiler trusts that they may be the means of awakening and cherishing in the hearts of others a love of piety, and those sweet and comparatively unappreciated Christian graces, resignation under trials, and also of commending the duties of a devoted and constant affection to parents ; one of the lovely virtues which adorn the Christian character.

Chapter I

Birth and parentage of Mrs. Howard — Early conversion— Her marriage with Mr. Knight — Removal to Morristown, N. J. — Extracts from her letters — Spiritual enjoyment Page 7

Chapter II

Letters — Early sorrow — Dangerous illness and death of her husband — Her distress — Return to her parents in New- York — Resignation — Visit to her former residence — Verses — Death of her sister Harriet Maria 14

Chapter III

Extracts from her diary — Resolutions of self-consecration— Letters and journal — Death of her daughter — Acquaintance with Rev. O. Howard — Her letter to him — Their marriage 28

Chapter IV

Diary — Departure of Mr. and Mrs. Howard for Buenos Ayres to engage in a missionary school — Farewell lines — Letters and journal written on the voyage — Arrival at Monte Video, S. A. — Favorable prospects on landing 54

Chapter V

Letters — Arrival at Buenos Ayres — First impressions — Extracts from her letters — Unfavorable prospects of the mission school — Failure of her health — Serious exercises of mind — Birth of a daughter — Letters and diary . 85

CONTENTS.

Chapter VI

Extracts from letters — Depression of spirits — Probable suspension of the mission — Prospect of returning to the United States — Letters and diary — Arrival in New- York.

Chapter VII

Mr. Howard appointed by the New- York Conference to Durham, Conn., as a traveling preacher — Letters and diary of Mrs. Howard — Her happiness—Longings after usefulness — Their removal to Fairfield, N. Y. — Declining health — Gloomy anticipations— Her last letter to her parents 119

Chapter VIII

Birth of another daughter — Named Susan Howard — Visit to her parents in New-York — Her health continues to fail — Goes to Tarrytown — Returns home to Fairfield — Rapid decline — Resignation and spiritual enjoyment — Triumphant death — Conclusion. ....... 129

MEMOIR

OF

MRS. SUSAN HOWARD.

Chapter I

Birth and parentage of Mrs. Howard — Early conversion— Her marriage with Mr. Knight — Removal to Morristown, N. J. — Extracts from her letters — Spiritual enjoyment.

Mrs. Susan Howard was born in the city of New- York, on the 24th of March, 1815. She was the second daughter of Mr. Andrew C. and Mrs. Harriet Wheeler, who have long been known and beloved for their active labors in the church, and in various departments of Christian benevolence. They had four sons and three other daughters. The latter all united early with the church of Christ.

Mrs. Howard experienced religion in her thirteenth year. An amiable and most affectionate child from infancy, she became from this tender age a meek, humble, and consistent follower of her Saviour.

On the 1 1th of June, 1 834, at the age of nineteen, she was married to Mr. William Knight, and left her parents' roof to reside near Morristown, New- Jersey. The following letters, written after this period, discover the ease and gracefulness of her style in letter writing, and that devoted affection for her parents which animated her heart as long as she lived : —

" Morristown, June 16th, 1834.

" My Beloved Parents, — I hasten to allay the anxiety which my heart tells me you must feel on my account, by assuring you of my welfare and happiness ; and by telling you that though absent in the body, and deprived of the inestimable privilege of enjoying your society, yet a sacred thrill of pleasure — of mixed emotions — pervades my soul whenever these words are mentioned; — father, mother ! O how fraught with interest* is the very sound of them ! When my heart is led in retrospect to review past scenes and former enjoyments at home, what an overwhelming sense of gratitude arises within me for the mercies of my God in giving me so many sources of happiness !

" Dear father, dear mother ! believe me, I realize now, if I never did before, how much I owe you. I cannot for a moment think of all your love and care toward me, but my full heart is ready to burst with gratitude. And ever since I have been here,

I can truly say my most consolatory moments have been passed when kneeling at the throne of grace, and imploring that all the prayers you have for so many years offered up for your children may return with tenfold blessings upon your own heads. And I believe my heavenly Father will hear the prayer.

" Doubtless you desire to know something of my arrival. It was about four o'clock when the stage left us at the door, and with a beating heart I entered. We were soon conducted up to

mother K . She kissed me, wept over me,

and gave me such a cordial, feeling reception as to fill me immediately with the hope and the delightful sensation that in her I should find for the future a second beloved mother. Methinks I see your eyes fill with tears at such a pleasing prospect for your daughter. Yes, my parents, with the blessing of God, I think I shall be very happy here. As yet that distressing complaint, home sickness, has not been felt, nor thought of.

" How lovely the country is ! how delightful the fresh, balmy air ! and how soothing to the mind the stillness which surrounds us ! These, with the new circumstances in which I am placed — - the new character which I sustain — have a tendency to buoy up my mind and support me under my removal from the paternal home.

. * . . I must now close, by assuring you that my heart clings with fervor to the home of my youth ; and absence only strengthens my attachment for our dearly-loved family. " Your affectionate daughter,

" Susan Knight."

The following letter was written to her father, who was at this time a member of the New- York Legislature, at Albany : —

" Morristown, N. J., Feb. 21st, 1835.

" My Dear, Kind Father, — I realized, most sensibly, at the reception of your letter, how foolish my fears had been, that you would forget me. This was a gratifying proof to my heart, that even surrounded as you were by public affairs of importance, and occupations calculated to wean the thoughts from inferior objects, yet, notwithstanding all, my father selected an opportunity, in this active, busy time, to send a token of remembrance to his absent, though affectionate daughter.

" This first epistle from the hand of a beloved father shall be hoarded up as a sacred treasure, and shall also serve as a stimulant to my hope, that for the future I may enjoy many happy moments in perusing and reperusing fresh proofs of a father's love and remembrance.

" I have rejoiced to hear of the success that has attended your career ; and that when occasions have been found to test principles, yours were as firm as a rock — steadfast and immovable. The consciousness of rectitude and integrity yields a satisfaction which the immoral and the unprincipled have no conception of. Is it not so, my father ? My prayer is, that the Lord will continue to direct your steps, and that you, as his faithful servant, may be enabled unceasingly to acknowledge him in all your ways.

" How are you pleased with the city of Albany? Do you find its charms and attractions an equivalent for the endearments and social enjoyments of home ? No ! methinks I hear you say,

1 My home ! — how sweet the sound — my home ! Scene of my Eden hours ; Where love, and joy, and pleasure bloom, — Life's bright perennial flowers.'

O how my bosom swells, and emotion fills my eyes with tears when home is the subject of my contemplations ! Dear father, how sweet the retrospection of my past life when under the paternal roof ! You cannot imagine what delight it creates within me, when looking back, and bringing to remembrance the mercies and blessings that have crowned my life. I hope, father, you will pray for me, that from a review of the past goodness of the Lord I may be encouraged to put my trust in him for the future— -for what is to come. " Your sincerely affectionate daughter,

" Susan Knight."

MEMOIR OF MRS. SUSAN HOWARD.

TO HER SISTER, MRS. B.

"Morristown, 1835.

"My Dear Sister, — My lamp, or the light of it, is almost extinguished, casting a sombre, melancholy shade on all around, while I am engaged in the labors of the pen, and in the pleasing task of holding imaginary converse with you. Would that it were a reality ! How joyously would I assure you by word of mouth of my welfare and happiness; and of the sincere wishes my heart entertains for your continued prosperity in temporal and spiritual good !

" I must inform you what a profitable day this sabbath has been to me. It has been so strange and uncommon a thing for me to feel encouragement respecting the concerns of my soul for some time back, that what little I have enjoyed these few days renders me unspeakably grateful. And now, tell my dearest, beloved mother, that it is to her I feel indebted for the determination to make one more effort to gain the favor of God : for in my little trials, and in the anticipation of greater, I felt that I could not take my troubles to the Lord, neither hope nor look for his support in times of need. I have been very unhappy in mind, because I knew that I peculiarly needed a Saviour more than ever I did in my life ; and yet I groped in darkness, and neglected to cast my whole soul on

Him who was so willing to receive a penitent sinner.

"I received mother's letter, and read it with an overflowing heart. She advised me strongly, when Satan suggested to my mind harassing and dreadful imaginations, to carry my cares to the Lord, and he would deliver me: — to make God my trust, soul and body, without reserve.

0 how it made me feel the loss of comfort, and my need of a Saviour's love ! I went to the Lord — was drawn and taught by his Holy Spirit, and have daily since been growing in strength, encouragement, and comfort. O the goodness of the Lord ! Jane, you must pray for me and mother, that the Lord will keep me faithful ; for what shall

1 do if I have no hope in God, and no Saviour to lean upon !

" Let the blessing which attended mother's letter to me encourage her to write frequently to her absent children respecting their souls' welfare. I know how it is when absent from those who are so dear to us, if a word of advice or encouragement meets the eye, how tender the feelings become ; how easily a deep impression is made ! The seed falls in good ground.

" Tell my dearest mother, that when I pray for peculiar blessings on her honored head, for returns for all her care and anxieties for her children to be bestowed upon her, then I believe that God will give her the richest, costliest blessing — the conversion of all their souls. May our hearts ever realize, dear sister, how good the Lord has been in giving us such parents ! And let us turn about and besiege the throne of grace, as they have always done for us, that every desire of their hearts may be granted ; that prosperity may continue theirs in life, and peace be with them in the hour of death.

"Your own Susan."

Chapter II

Letters — Early sorrow — Dangerous illness and death of her husband — Her distress — Return to her parents in New- York — Resignation — Visit to her former residence — Verses — Death of her sister Harriet Maria.

The beautiful, filial, and affectionate spirit of these letters is worthy of admiration. Thus far her life had been almost like a summer sea. Scarce a cloud of sorrow had ever yet mantled upon her brow. She had parted indeed from the home of the best of parents, and from the society of affectionate sisters and brothers ; but she had exchanged the paternal roof for another home of affection, where she was a truly beloved and cherished member. And, as we have seen, she was still happy. The candle of the Lord still shone brightly in her dwelling.

But we have now to record, in her own artless and affecting language, her first lessons in the school of affliction. Her happiness was soon to be blighted ; and we shall have an opportunity to contemplate her Christian character when tried by early and bitter sorrow. The following letters speak of her husband's serious illness : —

TO MRS. J. B. u Morris-town, N. J.f March 24th, 1835. " My own Dear Sister, — How are you and the family ? Are you all well ? If so, I dislike to disturb your comfort by mentioning any cause for sorrow your absent sister may have. But who can deny themselves the consolation of reposing their cares and anxieties in so warm and sympathizing a bosom as yours 1 I am not stoic enough ; though it is with sincere regret I wrong your affectionate heart by any communication that is not cheering and pleasant. You wonder and ask, What ails my sister ? Is there not sufficient reason, dearest Jane, for my soul to seek and require your sympathy 1 My husband — my bosom companion— is very poorly. He is diseased in body to a much greater extent than was feared. Last Wednesday he was taken very violently with what seemed at first an attack of pleurisy ; but other symptoms appearing, the physician decides his disease to be the liver complaint

" Dear sister, it is hard to see one we dearly love thus exposed to sickness and death. The more attachments we form — the more ties we have — the more acutely our sensibilities are exposed to suffer. Is it not so ? I am endeavoring to lean upon the strong arm of the Almighty ; and whatever I have to pass through, to rest upon God's promise, that ' according to our day, so shall our strength be.' My own situation is peculiarly calculated to worry and harass my mind, while my dear husband is thus afflicted. But I feel that I can praise the Lord for as much power as is given me to let the future rest with him, 'who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.' I think I can trust him. And that the affliction may be sanctified to both our souls is my earnest and continual prayer. Not more than a moment do the fears and anxious forebodings which present themselves to me have power to distress or make me unhappy ; because I realize sensibly that Jesus is near to sustain and comfort me. Now, dear Jane, write immediately, and pray earnestly for us both.

" Your dearly beloved Susan."

TO HER PARENTS.

" Morris town, Oct. 20th, 1835.

" My Dear Parents,— An opportunity occurs to write you a few lines. There is nothing cheerful to state. No, my dear parents, no good news to communicate. William [her husband] has been failing fast since his departure from New- York. He is, I fear, a great deal worse. I have, myself, been as sick as I could well be, having been confined, with a violent fever, almost entirely to my room for three days. And now my little Harriet, — my sweet cherub — lies stretched on a pillow, and has been the whole day long very, very ill. O how sick she is ! ... I have to take the little sick daughter, pillow and all, on mamma's lap. O my father — my mother ! how sorely the Lord afflicts me ! I am murmuring in heart constantly. Would that I could say, ' The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away ; blessed be the name of the Lord/5 But O ! my heart rebels at my fate. My afflictions these few days past have shed a gloom across my mind which nothing but the love of God can dissipate, and this I do not possess.

" My poor William, how my heart aches for him ! He clings to life and health, and continually speaks of raising up his little family, as if the possibility of his disease ending in death never entered his mind. As for me, I can no longer flatter myself, Daily evidence proves that his disease is fast approaching a climax. I look at him, and can scarce restrain my feelings. Little does he think what passes in the heart of his poor

wife Do not be frightened when you read this letter, for it may be I have written under the influence of too gloomy feelings, and therefore things may not be so bad as I imagine them. .... Your daughter in love,

6i Susan Knight."

TO HER SISTER, MRS. B.

" Morristown, Dec. 23d, 1835.

" Dearest Sister, — I am endeavoring to live according to the precepts of your letter, and I thank you for your kind advice. I find that by frequently taking up my cross, and striving, with meekness and firmness, to perform my duties, I enjoy more contentment of mind. I find, by degrees, I am getting into the right path, and I am in hopes that it will soon be illuminated by the 6 Sun of righteousness.'

" My dear companion is very happy in the Lord. The love of Jesus is his constant theme. O how thankful I am ! His soul seems to be renewed, and his heart rejoices in his Saviour. Poor William ! he is again what he was in respect to his health— he is extremely weak : and altogether we have great cause to be anxious.

" Tell sisters Harriet and Mary to take warning. They are young, but not too young to die. I will answer dear Harriet's very pleasing and acceptable letter soon.

" Your own Susan."

MEMOIR OF MRS. SUSAN HOWARD.

IS

TO THE SAME.

"Morristown, Feb. 21st, 1836.

" Dear, Dear Jane,— How good the Lord is to me in bestowing such a comforting, encouraging sister ! Let me assuage the grief your bosom feels for my woes, by the assurance that the Saviour whom you recommend is near to comfort and defend your afflicted sister. O yes, dear Jane, and my dear parents, God stretches out his strong, almighty arm for me to lean on. As I kneel down in prayer, he helps me to cast my burden on him, who alone is able to sustain me. I cannot express to you how wonderfully I realize that his providential care is over me ; and I see, day by day, that £ all things work together for good.'

" Can you wonder then that I long to pour out my heart to you, and acknowledge the gratitude I feel to my heavenly Father, who ' chasteneth in mercy,' and who 1 tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb V

" I earnestly pray that I may come out of the furnace like gold tried by the refiner's fire, and purified from all dross.

" You are anxious to hear how my dear companion is : he is failing rapidly. The doctor informs us that he may possibly live a month yet ; but perhaps not longer than a week. He is sensible that he may drop off in a minute. But, poor sufferer, there seems to be a struggle within. O pray for him, that liberty may be given him to say, * O grave, where is thy victory ? O death, where is thy sting V

"Your own Susan."

TO HER PARENTS.

"Morristown, N. J., March, 1836. " My dear, beloved, kindest of parents, and my dear sister Jane, do you not rejoice that my dear husband is so happy in Jesus 1 I cannot tell you what a consecrated spot it seems to be where the bed stands that supports his feeble, emaciated body : and he says, 6 All I wait for is, for my Saviour to say, Come up higher. ' He has been telling us to-day whom he wishes to preach his funeral sermon, and what ministers he wanted present ; and he talks to us all, and tells us what he wants us to do when he is gone, with as much composure as if he were going on a short journey. O that the Lord would support me, for it almost overwhelms me when I realize that we must part! " Your affectionate daughter,

" Susan Knight."

Her anticipations were soon realized. Her husband from this moment rapidly failed, and on the 4th of March, 1836, he died. She soon after returned, with her infant daughter, to her former home with her parents in New- York city, where she could find sympathy and consolation under this severe bereavement. And now she consecrated her widowed heart anew to the Lord. She was drawn from the chamber which was the witness of so many of her tears, to engage in active scenes of Christian love. She became a teacher in a sabbath school ; and in her class and prayer meetings she exhibited the resignation and devotion of an humble follower of the blessed Saviour.

She visited, occasionally, the scene of her wedded joy and sorrow at Morristown. The following lines, written in reference to one of these visits, were published at the time in some of the public papers.

A young and interesting girl on her marriage left her parents' roof to reside with her husband in a pleasant little cottage, blooming, like herself, with the blossoms and loveliness of spring. For a brief period the sun rose and set sweetly on that delightful spot, and hope and joy smiled around the hearthstone within. Fragrant and beautiful was that quiet home. But the hour of trial and darkness came. That lovely girl became a widow ; the cottage was at once cheerless ; and she returned, with a blight upon her heart and a cloud upon her brow, to her father's house. It was her custom to pay an occasional visit to that spot consecrated as the shrine of her early affection— to awaken " the joy of grief" — to live over the past in melancholy associations. Such is the paradox of the human affections !

THE WIFE TO HER DEPARTED HUSBAND.

I hear thee not— ^1 see thee not,

Thy footstep is not here, Where once it was my happy lot

To meet thee, husband, dear.

A saddening thought comes o'er my brain — I cannot see thy form again.

Our cottage smiles upon the green,

Just as it smiled before ; The willows weep a grateful shade

Before that cottage door ; But when I to the spot repair, I feel, alas ! thou art not there.

The songsters still as sweetly sing,

Nor heed they of my care ; And fragrant flowers are blossoming

In the morning's balmy air.

I love them, for they bring to me Some sweet memorials of thee.

That cottage hearth no longer brings

The joys of other years, When hours flew by with golden wings,

Nor told that life had cares.

I hear thy voice no longer there, As once we knelt to God in prayer.

Thou art not here — thou art not here, To greet me as before ;

Yet He, who dries the mourner's tear,

Now bids me weep no more.

Soaring in realms of purer bliss, I would not call thee back to this.

The song — the glorious song is thine —

The Lamb for sinners slain ; The better duty now be mine,

To glory in thy gain.

And when this weary life is o'er, We meet — to say farewell no more.

During one of the visits above alluded to, she wrote to her sister Harriet the following letter : —

" Morristown, Sept. 5th, 1837.

" Dearest Sister Harriet, — As you are ever in my heart and in my thoughts, with all the rest of our dear family, I believe I will indulge myself by writing to you. Harriet, you know I was very fearful that the change of scene would be very injurious to my mind. But true it is, the God of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps ; and our God is a sun and a shield to all them that try to walk uprightly. I have realized this visit to be a blessing to me indeed. I hope I shall be more humble when I return home ; more patient, tell my dear sister Mary ; and more useful.

" Tell my dear parents this promise has been abundantly verified to me — ' Since thou hast been precious in my sight, thou hast been honorable/

The Lord raises me up friends, and it seems wherever I turn I receive looks and tokens of affection and esteem. How true it is, if we 4 set on His work our steadfast eye, so shall our work be done I9

" Dear sister, what our hands find to do, let us do it with all our might, for we know not what a

day may bring forth My dear little

Harriet is so good — you cannot tell how much comfort I have with her.

"Your own dear Susan."

This sister, Harriet, was the next younger than herself, and to whom she was most tenderly attached. She was truly an amiable and lovely being, admired and beloved by a large circle of friends ; and particularly was she noticed for the pure and unaffected piety which adorned the morning bloom of her life. She too was a mark for the unrelenting destroyer. She was seized with a pulmonary affection, which rapidly broke down her delicate frame. She died in the full enjoyment of hope in her Saviour, on the 7th of December, 1837.

This death was a severe affliction to the family, and especially to the remaining sisters, who were her constant companions. When the writer of this visited the house of mourning, where lay that beautiful corpse — lovely in death — the calm smile of triumph still upon her lips — he was affected on witnessing the strength of religion which supported the subject of this Memoir in this her second great trial. Nature was struggling under an affliction which seemed almost insupportable. O the sweet spirit of resignation in that trying hour !

On inquiring of Mrs. Knight how she sustained her trial, she exclaimed, " Our grief is great ; but we are supported by grace" While we admire the calm spirit of Addison in those memorable words on his death-bed, to his young kinsman, "See in what peace a Christian can die," may we not also add in view of such a scene — See in what peace a Christian may suffer ! It was indeed the spirit and resignation of the Master she served — "Not my will, but thine be done." It is in the depths of affliction that the heart is tried, and its faith proved. It is here the voice of the child of God may be heard, " Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight."

So deeply did the death of Harriet Maria affect her, that it was for months the constant theme of her conversation. She took a mournful interest in dwelling upon the loveliness of her departed sister, her resignation, and glorious death. It doubtless contributed to prepare her own mind for a fuller consecration to the cause of her Redeemer, and to feel herself but a pilgrim and sojourner here. The following lines, commemorative of this bereavement, embracing a notice of several little circumstances attending the death-bed scene, were much prized by Mrs. Howard : —

LINES,

On the death of Harriet Maria Wheeler, who departed December 7th, 1837.

Come, daughter, once more let thy sweet numbers flow, Let that soft, failing voice, tune in sweetness once more ;