I think I can say, I never felt better in America, than I do here. Calcutta harbour is a delightful place. But we are quite tired of the noise. The natives are as thick as bees; they keep a continual chattering. I like the sound of the Bengalee much.

June 18. Yesterday afternoon we left the vessel and were conveyed in a palanquin through crowds of Hindoos, to Dr. C.'s.

No English lady is here seen walking the streets. This I do not now wonder at. The natives are so numerous and noisy, that a walk would be extremely unpleasant. The Calcutta houses are very large and airy. Dr. C.'s appeared like a palace to us, after having been confined so long in our little rooms. This morning we saw some of the native christians; but they could not talk English. An invitation to go to Serampore to-morrow.

June 20. At Serampore. We came here last evening by water. The dear missionaries received us with the same cordiality, as they would, if we had been their own brothers and sisters. This is the most delightful place I ever saw. Here the missionaries enjoy all the comforts of life, and are actively engaged in the Redeemer's service. After a tedious voyage of four months at sea, think, my dear mother, how grateful to us is this retired and delightful spot. The mission house consists of four large, commodious buildings-Dr. C.'s, Dr. M.'s,

Mr. W.'s, and the common house. In the last we are accommodated, with two spacious rooms, with every convenience we could wish. It has eight rooms on the floor, no chambers; viz. the two rooms above mentioned, with two other lodging rooms, the dining hall, where a hundred or more eat, a large elegant chapel, and two large libraries. The buildings stand close to the river. The view of the other side is delightful. The garden is large and elegant.

A few months since the printing-office was destroyed by fire. This was a heavy stroke; but the printing is now carried on very extensively. There are a large number of out buildings also; the cook house, one for making paper, &c.

June 21. Mr. N. preached this morning in the mission chapel. Mr. W. in the afternoon, in the Bengalee language, to about fifty Hindoos and Mussulmans. This afternoon, I shall ever recollect with peculiar sensations. The appearance of the Christian Hindoos, when listening to the word of life, would have reproved many an American christian. Had you been present, I am sure you could not have refrained from weeping. Had an opposer of missions been present, his objections must have vanished. He would have exclaimed, what hath God wrought! To hear the praises of Jesus sung by a people of strange language; to see them kneel

before the throne of grace; to behold them eagerly catching every word which proceeded from the mouth of their minister, was a joyful, but an affecting scene. Rejoice, my dear mother, the standard of the blessed IMMANUEL is strongly erected in this distant land of pagans; and here the gospel will undoubtedly continue to be spread, till the commencement of the bright millennial day. In the evening brother J. preached. How precious the privileges I now enjoy!

June 22. I have every thing here which heart could wish, but American friends. We are treated with the greatest possible kindness. Every thing tends to make us happy and excite our gratitude. You would love these dear missionaries could you see them.

June 24. I have just returned from a scene calculated to awaken every compassionate feeling. At nine in the morning we took a boat, and went three or four miles up the river to see the worship of Juggernaut. The log of wood was taken from his pagoda, and bathed in the sacred waters of the Ganges. The assembled worshippers followed his example, and thousands flocked to the river, where with prayers and many superstitious rites, they bathed! Miserable wretches! O that American christians could but form an adequate idea of the gross darkness which covers this people.

July 14. A letter from Calcutta informs us that the Frances will sail for America in a day or two. With this information I must be expeditious in writing. As the Caravan will sail in a short time, I shall neglect writing now to many of my dear friends, to whom I shall then be very particular. I hope the contents of this little book will be gratifying to my dear mother. She will remember that they were written while the events were passing, and that they were the feelings of the moment. You will therefore feel disposed to pass over all errors, and think it the private conversation of one of your daughters.

I am sure I love my dear, dear mother, and my beloved brothers and sisters, and all my dear American friends, as well now, as I did on the morning when I took my last farewell of home. I long to

hear from you all. Whenever you think of me, think I am happy and contented, that I do not regret coming here.

In this country, life is uncertain. Should God in judgment remove far from me lover and the best of friends, and leave your Harriet a lonely widow in this land of strangers, say, my ever dear mother, shall I be a welcome child in your house? I know not what would be my feelings, should such un. known trials be mine. Perhaps I might feel that here I ought to stay. But I want to feel, that a

mother's home, and a mother's arms are open to reall be removed before me into

ceive me, should my

the land of darkness.

My dear mother, unite with me in praising God for one of the best of husbands. Do give much love to all my friends in Haverhill. I cannot stop to particularize them. They are all dear to me, and I shall write to many of them by the Caravan. Dear mother, if I supposed you had one anxious thought about me, I should not feel half so happy as I now do. When I think of you, I think I see you surrounded by your dear family, taking comfort in their society, and blessing God for one child to consecrate to the work of a mission. O that you might find the grace of Jesus sufficient for you. As your day is, so may your strength be. Trust in God; he will support you under every trial. I hope to meet my dear mother and brothers and sisters in heaven where we shall never be separated.

Farewell my dear, dear mother. May you enjoy as large a share of earthly bliss, as your God shall see best to give you; and O that the joys and consolations of that gospel, of which the heathen are totally ignorant, may be yours in life, and in the solemn hour of dissolution.-Farewell.

HARRIET NEwell."