Chapter V. Life In Rangoon. 1813-1819.

Chapter V. Life In Rangoon. 1813-1819.

Mr. and Mrs. Judson, as has already been stated, arrived in Rangoon June 13, 1813. For almost a year and a half since leaving their native land, they had been seeking a home on heathen shores. Having reached Calcutta, they had been forced by the oppressive policy of the East India Company to take refuge upon the Isle of France. They returned again to India and landed at Madras. But they were compelled to flee a second time, and having reluctantly relinquished the strong protection of the British flag, had, at last, settled down in Rangoon, the chief seaport of the Burman Empire. Their own desires and hopes had pointed elsewhere; and it was “with wandering steps and slow” that they had come to this destination. God had drawn around them the relentless toils of His providence, and had hemmed them in to this one opening. But subsequent history has proved that the hand which led them so strangely and sternly, was the hand that never errs. American Christians, in their assault upon Asiatic heathenism, could never have chosen such a strategic position as Rangoon. It is situated near the mouth of the great Irrawaddy River, which is thus described by an English officer:

“After draining the great plain of upper Burmah, it enters a narrow valley lying between the spurs of the Arracan and Pegu ranges, and extending below the city of Prome. Thus the mighty stream rolls on through the widening bay, until about ninety miles from the sea, it bifurcates; one branch flows to the westward and forms the Bassein River, while the main channel of the lower part of the Delta subdivides and finally enters the sea by ten mouths. It is navigable for river steamers for 840 miles from the sea, but it is during the rainy season (Monsoon) that it is seen in its full grandeur. The stream then rises forty feet above its summer level, and flooding the banks presents in some places, as far as the eye can reach, a boundless expanse of turbid waters, the main channel of which rushes along with a velocity of five miles an hour.”

The two natural outlets for the commerce of Western China are this great river, and the Yang-tse-kiang, which takes its rise in Thibet, and following an easterly course of nearly three thousand miles, empties itself into the Yellow Sea. Along this channel a vast tide of commerce has flowed from time immemorial, and depositing upon the river-banks its rich sediment of wealth and population, has occasioned the growth of Shanghai, Nanking, and other enormous cities. But the merchandise of Western and Central China would find a shorter and easier and cheaper path to the sea through the valley of the Irrawaddy, and would long ago have pursued that course, had it not been impeded and endangered by rude mountain tribes which the Governments of Burmah and of China have not as yet been vigorous enough to reduce to harmlessness. As civilization advances, a much larger part of the trade of Central Asia will be sure to find its way to the sea through the valley of the Irrawaddy. Christianity always enters the heart of a nation along the lines of trade; so that Rangoon, near the mouth of the Irrawaddy, where Mr. and Mrs. Judson landed, and Bhamo, situated at the head of navigation, 840 miles up the river, where the American Baptists have recently planted a mission, are two of the most important strategical points for the conquest of all Asia.

Rangoon is described by an English traveller who passed through it about the time of the arrival of the Judsons, as

“A miserable, dirty town, containing 8,000 or 10,000 inhabitants, the houses being built with bamboo and teak planks, with thatched roofs—almost without drainage, and intersected by muddy creeks, through which the tide flowed at high water. It had altogether a mean, uninviting appearance, but it was the city of government of an extensive province ruled over by a viceroy, a woongee of the empire, in high favor at the court.”

Some of the first impressions which the country made on the Judsons may be learned from their journals and letters.

“September 20. This is the first Sabbath that we have united in commemorating the dying love of Christ at His table. Though but two in number, we feel the command as binding, and the privilege as great, as if there were more, and we have indeed found it refreshing to our souls.

“December 11. To-day, for the first time, I have visited the wife of the viceroy. I was introduced to her by a French lady, who has frequently visited her. When we first arrived at the Government house she was not up; consequently we had to wait some time. But the inferior wives of the viceroy diverted us much by their curiosity in minutely examining everything we had on, and by trying on our gloves, bonnets, etc. At last her highness made her appearance, dressed richly in the Burman fashion, with a long silver pipe at her mouth, smoking. At her appearance, all the other wives took their seats at a respectful distance, and sat in a crouching posture, without speaking. She received me very politely, took me by the hand, seated me upon a mat, and herself by me. She excused herself for not coming in sooner, saying she was unwell. One of the women brought her a bunch of flowers, of which she took several, and ornamented her cap. She was very inquisitive whether I had a husband and children; whether I was my husband’s first wife—meaning by this, whether I was the highest among them, supposing that my husband, like the Burmans, had many wives; and whether I intended tarrying long in the country. When the viceroy came in, I really trembled, for I never before beheld such a savage-looking creature. His long robe and enormous spear not a little increased my dread. He spoke to me, however, very condescendingly, and asked if I would drink some rum or wine. When I arose to go, her highness again took my hand, told me she was happy to see me; that I must come to see her every day, for I was like a sister to her. She led me to the door, and I made my salaam, and departed. My only object in visiting her was, that, if we should get into any difficulty with the Burmans, I could have access to her, when perhaps it would not be possible for Mr. Judson to get access to the viceroy. One can obtain almost any favor from her by making a small present. We intend to have as little to do with Government people as possible, as our usefulness will probably be among the common people. Mr. Judson lately visited the viceroy, when he scarcely deigned to look at him, as English men are no uncommon sight in this country; but an English female is quite a curiosity.”

“It is nearly a year since I wrote to America, my last being forwarded by brother Rice. I have had no opportunity of conveyance since that time, nor have I any at present. I intend to send this to England, hoping that on its arrival the war may have terminated, or that it may find a conveyance in a dispatch vessel. We have been here about six months; have been living in the mission-house, with brother F. Carey’s family, but expect within a few days to take a house within the walls of the town on account of the bands of robbers which infest all the country, and which have lately been very numerous and daring. Our situation is much more comfortable than we expected it would be in such a country. We enjoy good health, and though deprived of all congenial Christian society, we are very happy in each other, and think we frequently enjoy His presence whose smile can turn the darkest night to day, and whose favor is the fountain of all happiness. ‘Peace I leave with you—my peace I give unto you.’ There has yet been but very little effected in this country to any real missionary purpose. Brother Carey’s time is greatly occupied in Government matters. The emperor has given him a title, and requires him to reside in the capital. He is just now going to Bengal on his majesty’s business, and expects, after his return, to reside at Ava. Not a single Burman has yet been brought to a knowledge of the truth, or even to serious inquiry. In all the affairs of this Government, despotism and rapine are the order of the day. The present viceroy of this province is a savage man. Life and death depend on his nod. He is very large in stature, and when he stalks about with his long spear, everybody shrinks from before him. I called on him once, but he scarcely looked at me. Ann waited on her highness, and was much better received. This man is about to be recalled to Ava, and it is doubtful whether he will return. During the interim we expect all things will be in confusion, and this is one reason why we desire to get within the walls of the city.

“My only object at present is to prosecute, in a still, quiet manner, the study of the language, trusting that for all the future ‘God will provide.’ We have this consolation, that it was the evident dispensation of God which brought us to this country; and still further, that if the world was all before us, where to choose our place of rest, we should not desire to leave Burmah. Our chief anxiety is that brother Rice may not be able to join us again; but even this we desire to leave in His hands who doeth all things well.”

“My dear Brother Newell:

“A few days since we received yours of December 18th, the only one we have ever received since you left us at Port Louis. It brought fresh to my mind a recollection of scenes formerly enjoyed in our dear native country. Well do I remember our first interesting conversations on missions and on the probable events which awaited us in India. Well do I remember the dear parental habitation where you were pleased to favor me with your confidence relative to a companion for life. And well do I remember the time when I first carried your message to the mother of our dear Harriet, when the excellent woman exclaimed with tears in her eyes, ‘I dare not, I can not speak against it.’ Those were happy days. Newell and Judson, Harriet and Nancy, then were united in the strictest friendship, then anticipated spending their lives together in sharing the trials and toils, the pleasures and enjoyments, of a missionary life. But, alas! behold us now! In the Isle of France, solitary and alone, lies all that was once visible of the lovely Harriet. A melancholy wanderer on the Isle of Ceylon is our brother Newell, and the savage, heathen empire of Burmah is destined to be the future residence of Judson and Nancy. But is this separation to be forever? Shall we four never again enjoy social, happy intercourse? No, my dear brother, our separation is of short duration. There is a rest—a peaceful, happy rest, where Jesus reigns, where we four soon shall meet to part no more. Forgive my gloomy feelings, or rather forgive my communicating them to you, whose memory, no doubt, is ever ready to furnish more than enough for your peace.

“As Mr. Judson will not have time to write you by this opportunity, I will endeavor to give you some idea of our situation here, and of our plans and prospects. We have found the country, as we expected, in a most deplorable state, full of darkness, idolatry, and cruelty—full of commotion and uncertainty. We daily feel that the existence and perpetuity of this mission, still in an infant state, depend in a peculiar manner on the interposing hand of Providence; and from this impression alone we are encouraged still to remain. As it respects our temporal privations, use has made them familiar, and easy to be borne; they are of short duration, and when brought in competition with the worth of immortal souls, sink into nothing. We have no society, no dear Christian friends, and with the exception of two or three sea captains, who now and then call on us, we never see a European face. But then, we are still happy in each other; still find that our own home is our best, our dearest friend. When we feel a disposition to sigh for the enjoyments of our native country, we turn our eyes on the miserable objects around. We behold some of them laboring hard for a scanty subsistence, oppressed by an avaricious Government, which is ever ready to seize what industry had hardly earned; we behold others sick and diseased, daily begging the few grains of rice which, when obtained, are scarcely sufficient to protract their wretched existence, and with no other habitation to screen them from the burning sun, or chilly rains, than what a small piece of cloth raised on four bamboos under a tree can afford. While we behold these scenes, we feel that we have all the comforts, and, in comparison, even the luxuries, of life. We feel that our temporal cup of blessings is full, and runneth over. But is our temporal lot so much superior to theirs? Oh, how infinitely superior our spiritual blessings! While they vainly imagine to purchase promotion in another state of existence by strictly worshipping their idols and building pagodas, our hopes of future happiness are fixed on the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world. When we have a realizing sense of these things, my dear brother, we forget our native country and former enjoyments, feel contented and happy with our lot, with but one wish remaining—that of being instrumental in leading these Burmans to partake of the same source of happiness with ourselves.

“Respecting our plans, we have at present but one—that of applying ourselves closely to the acquirement of the language, and to have as little to do with Government as possible. Brother Carey has never yet preached in Burman, but has made considerable progress toward the completion of a grammar and dictionary, which are a great help to us. At present, however, his time is entirely taken up with Government affairs. It is now almost a year since he was ordered up to Ava, which time has been wholly occupied in the king’s business. He has just returned from Bengal, and is now making preparations for Ava, where he expects to found a new mission station. His family go with him; consequently we shall be alone until the arrival of brother Rice, who, we hope, will arrive in six or seven months.

“Our progress in the language is slow, as it is peculiarly hard of acquisition. We can, however, read, write, and converse with tolerable ease, and frequently spend whole evenings very pleasantly in conversing with our Burman friends. We have been very fortunate in procuring good teachers. Mr. Judson’s teacher is a very learned man, was formerly a priest, and resided at court. He has a thorough knowledge of the grammatical construction of the language, likewise of the Pali, the learned language of the Burmans.”

It may be well to consider for a moment the task which the young missionary had set before him. What did they propose to do, this man of twenty-five and his young wife, standing amid the level rice fields on the coast of Lower Burmah, with their faces turned landward toward towns and cities swarming with idolaters, and hill-tops crowned with heathen temples and pagodas? Their purpose was to undermine an ancient religion, deeply fixed in the hearts and habits of four hundred millions of human beings. They did not propose to bring to bear influences by which Christianity was to be introduced as a State religion and reluctant knees be forced to bow to the Christ. This would have been indeed an audacious undertaking. But they sought to work out a more searching revolution, nothing less than a change of belief and of heart in each individual. The millions of Burmans were to be taken one by one—their affections subdued, and their characters transfigured by the religion of Christ. They felt sure that in the mass of people about them, there was here and there a man who had been so schooled by the providences of God, and so matured by the Divine Spirit, that if the story of the Cross could once be got to him, he would immediately accept it and say, “That is just what I want.” As the sod of moss, brought from the woods into the house, often contains within its bosom hidden germs, and after a season, in the warmth of the parlor, sends forth sweet, unexpected spring flowers, so out of the unattractive sod of heathenism, under the genial rays of the Holy Spirit, might emerge disciples of Christ, and these disciples, organized by baptism into churches, would, by the same process of reaching individual souls, little by little leaven the whole of the empire.

But what means did Mr. Judson use in his endeavor to bring about this great moral and spiritual revolution? Simply the Gospel of Christ. The sole weapons of his warfare were the old-fashioned truths, the existence of a personal and beneficent God, the fatal sinfulness of man, and salvation by faith in the Son of God, who came to “seek and to save that which was lost.” No system of truth could be devised more diametrically opposed to Buddhism, which teaches that there is no God to save, no soul to be saved, and no sin to be saved from. He felt sure that if he could only plant the seeds of Christian truth in the soil of the Burman’s heart, then, under the mellowing influence of the Holy Spirit, they would germinate and bring forth the fruit of meek and pure behavior. As in flushing a drain, a large body of pure water is poured through the whole length of it, washing out every impurity, so the Gospel of Christ is a cleansing tide, which, as it courses through the individual heart, or through human society, sweeps away before it all the stagnant and loathsome accumulations of sin.

Mr. Judson did not believe that Christianity should follow in the wake of civilization. He did not propose to spend his time in teaching the arts and sciences of the Western world, in imparting more correct astronomical, geographical, and geological conceptions, in order, little by little, to prepare the mind of the Burman to accept his religious ideas. He had implicit confidence in the promise of his Master, “Lo, I am with you alway.” He believed that Christ was with him in the heart of the heathen, unlocking the door from the inside.

Again, he did not say to himself, “It is a hopeless task to attempt the conversion of the hoary heads. I will try to gather the little children together and establish schools, and thus purify the fountains of national life.” He had his schools, indeed, but they were quite subordinate to the work of preaching the Gospel to the adult mind. He reached the children through the parents, and not the parents through the children. He believed that the grown-up Burmans, rather than their children, should bear the brunt of persecution involved in embracing a new religion. He followed the method of the Acts of the Apostles. A preacher of the Gospel, he did not allow himself to shrivel into a mere school-teacher or a school-book maker.

There were only two channels through which the truths of the Gospel could be conveyed to the conscience of the Burman—the eyes and the ears. The natives were emphatically a reading people. They had their ancient scriptures embodying the teachings of Gaudama, and the first question asked of the propagator of a new religion would be, “Where are your sacred books?” So that one way in which Mr. Judson communicated the Gospel was by the translation of tracts—either succinct and concrete statements of Christian truth, or portions of the Bible. These were not scattered about like autumn leaves, but were given discriminatingly to individuals, the gift often being accompanied by a solemn injunction to read, followed by a fervent prayer. The following letter to the Rev. Dr. Baldwin shows how earnestly he engaged in this work of imparting Christian truth in a printed form:

“Have just heard that a person whom we have some time calculated on as a letter-carrier to Bengal is unexpectedly going off in the course of an hour. Have, therefore, time only to accompany the enclosed tracts with a line or two.

“We have just begun to circulate these publications, and are praying that they may produce some inquiry among the natives. And here comes a man, this moment, to talk about religion. What shall I do? I will give him a tract, to keep him occupied a few moments while I finish this. ‘Here, my friend, sit down, and read something that will carry you to heaven if you believe and receive the glorious Saviour therein exhibited.’

“We are just entering on a small edition of Matthew, the translation of which I lately commenced. But we are in great want of men and money. Our hands are full from morning till night. I can not, for my life, translate as fast as brother Hough will print. He has to do all the hard work in the printing-office, without a single assistant, and can not, therefore, apply himself to the study of the language, as is desirable. As for me, I have not an hour to converse with the natives, or go out and make proclamation of the glorious Gospel. In regard to money, we have drawn more from Bengal than has been remitted from America; so that now, if not for their truly brotherly kindness in honoring our bills on credit, we should actually starve. Moreover, an edition of five thousand of the New Testament will cost us nearly five thousand dollars. And what are five thousand among a population of seventeen millions, five millions of whom can read? O that all the members of the Baptist Convention could live in Rangoon one month! Will the Christian world ever awake? Will means ever be used adequate to the necessities of the heathen world? O Lord, send help! Our waiting eyes are unto Thee!”

It is a noteworthy fact that the attention of the first serious Burman inquirer was caught by two little writings that fell into his hands, a tract and a catechism. The British and Foreign Bible Society publish a statement, made upon the authority of Sir Bartle Frere, that he met “with an instance which was carefully investigated, in which all the inhabitants of a remote village in the Deccan had abjured idolatry and caste, removed from their temples the idols which had been worshipped there time out of mind, and agreed to profess a form of Christianity which they had deduced for themselves from the careful perusal of a single Gospel and a few tracts.” And the eminent African missionary, Moffat, related that when he was almost perishing for want of food, he was succored by an old negro woman whose spiritual life had been fed for years from a little copy of the Dutch New Testament. She drew it from her bosom and said: “This is the fountain whence I drink; this is the oil which makes my lamp to burn.”

But far more important than the work of translating and distributing tracts, catechisms, and portions of the Scripture, was the oral preaching of the Gospel. For this Mr. Judson had rare aptitude, and in it he won his most signal triumphs. While engaged in the necessary work of translation, he was always pining for the opportunity of imparting the message of salvation with the living voice. In a letter to Dr. Bolles he says: “I long to see the whole New Testament complete, for I will then be able to devote all my time to preaching the Gospel from day to day; and often now the latter appears to be the more pressing duty. May the Spirit of the Lord be poured out!” When eye meets eye, and the mind of an objector is confronted by a living, loving personality, he receives a deeper impression of religious truth than he can ever get even from the leisurely perusal of a printed book. The press can never supplant the pulpit. The truth, which, when pressed home by the earnest voice of the speaker, carries with it conviction, and arouses the conscience, and kindles the affections, is often weak and thin when presented on the printed page.

But Mr. Judson’s preaching was unlike that of the orator about whom a great throng gathers. After the little chapel, or zayat, was built, public worship indeed was held, the audience consisting of perhaps a hundred persons. But most of the preaching at first was to the individual. It was a process of spiritual button-holing. A single person would enter into a discussion with the missionary, while a few others would draw near to witness the encounter. It was in these hand-to-hand frays that Mr. Judson often extorted exclamations of admiration from the bystanders, as with his keen logic he hewed his opponent to pieces as Samuel did Agag.

His preaching was concrete. He did not deal in vague abstractions. Truth assumed, in his mind, statuesque forms. His conversation abounded in images and illustrations; and in this respect he resembled the great Teacher, whom England’s poet laureate thus describes:

Mrs. E. C. Judson contributes a reminiscence of his vivid method of imparting religious truth:

“A native Christian woman told me that she was at one time about to engage in something which Dr. Judson considered not conducive to her spiritual good. He sent for her, and remonstrated; but she would not give up her darling project. ‘Look here!’ said he, eagerly snatching a ruler from the table, and tracing not a very straight line on the floor, ‘here is where you have been walking. You have made a crooked track, to be sure—out of the path half of the time; but then you have kept near it, and not taken to new roads, and you have—not so much as you might have done, mind, but still to a certain extent—grown in grace; and now, with all this growth upon your heart and head, in the maturity of your years, with ripened understanding and an every-day deepening sense of the goodness of God, here,’ bringing down the ruler with emphasis to indicate a certain position, ‘here you stand. You know where this path leads. You know what is before you—some struggles, some sorrows, and finally eternal life and a crown of glory. But to the left branches off another very pleasant road, and along the air floats, rather temptingly, a pretty bubble. You do not mean to leave the path you have walked in fifteen years—fifteen long years—altogether; you only want to step aside and catch the bubble, and think you will come back again; but you never will. Woman, think! Dare you deliberately leave this strait and narrow path, drawn by the Saviour’s finger, and go away for one moment into that of your enemy? Will you? will you? WILL YOU?’

“‘I was sobbing so,’ said the woman, ‘that I could not speak a word; but he knew, as he always did, what I meant; for he knelt down, and prayed that God would preserve me in my determination. I have made a great many crooked tracks since,’ she added, tearfully, ‘but, whenever I am unusually tempted, I see the teacher as he looked that day, bending over in his chair, the ruler placed on the floor to represent me, his finger pointing along the path of eternal life, his eye looking so strangely over his shoulder, and that terrible “Will you?” coming from his lips as though it was the voice of God; and I pray just as Peter did, for I am frightened.’”

Behind his words, when he preached, lay the magnet of a great character. He was a man of tender sensibilities and of strong affections. There was no mistaking his motives. He had come a long distance and endured great hardships because he loved the Burmans. Little by little they found this out; and the power of a preacher is in direct ratio with his capacity for inspiring confidence and affection. Not the truth on the lips, but the truth incarnated in the behavior, has weight. One who often heard him preach in Burmese, though she was at that time only slightly acquainted with the language, writes:

“He preached with great fervor and earnestness; but besides this, there was a touching simplicity in the matter and language, which it was long before I could appreciate. His figures, which I understood sooner, were drawn from immediately surrounding objects. Of these, in accordance with Eastern taste, he made great use. He often remarked that Christ was the model preacher, and that He never preached great sermons.”

A missionary thus describes the impression which he received from hearing Mr. Judson the first time:

“True, he preached in Burman; but though I did not know the meaning of a single sentence he uttered, still my attention was never more closely riveted in any sermon I have ever heard. Were I to fix upon any characteristic of the preacher which, perhaps more than any other, rendered his discourse interesting and impressive, I should say it was earnestness of manner. It was impossible for any one to escape the conviction that his whole soul was in the work. Every tone, every look, every gesture spoke out in most emphatic language to tell us that the man was in earnest to make us believe the truths that he uttered. But what contributed not a little to the interest of the occasion was the appearance of the assembly. Every hearer sat motionless, every eye was immovably fixed upon the preacher, and every countenance seemed to change with every varied expression of sentiment; now beaming forth joy, as though some joyous news from the other world had just reached them, which before had never gladdened their hearts—now depicting a feeling of anxiety as though their mortal all, or that of their friends, were at stake; and next, of deep solemnity, as though standing before their final judge!”

Having considered the stupendous task set before the young missionary, and the methods he used, let us look at some of the difficulties. His ardent temperament flung itself against the hard reef of Burman conservatism. Oriental slowness to accept a new idea proved a strong obstacle at the outset. He writes:

“The Burmans are a slow, wary, circumspect race; but their pertinacity in maintaining an opinion deliberately adopted, will bear, I imagine, due proportion to their tardiness in adopting it. This trait in their character will render missionary operations among them less rapid in the outset, but more effective and permanent in the issue.”

Another great difficulty at the beginning was learning the language without grammar, or dictionary, or an English-speaking teacher. How hard a task this was, may be learned from his letters.

“Yours of March, 1815, I lately received, and read with real satisfaction. Neither brother Rice nor any of the others you mention have yet been heard of in these parts. May they not be far distant. Whenever they shall arrive, I hope to be of some real service to them in their preparatory studies, and to be able to give them, in a short time, information on many points which it has cost me months to acquire. I just now begin to see my way forward in this language, and hope that two or three years more will make it somewhat familiar; but I have met with difficulties that I had no idea of before I entered on the work. For a European or American to acquire a living Oriental language, root and branch, and make it his own, is quite a different thing from his acquiring a cognate language of the West, or any of the dead languages, as they are studied in the schools. One circumstance may serve to illustrate this. I once had occasion to devote about two months to the study of the French. I have now been above two years engaged on the Burman; but if I were to choose between a Burman and French book to be examined in, without previous study, I should, without the least hesitation, choose the French. When we take up a Western language, the similarity of the characters, in very many terms, in many modes of expression, and in the general structure of sentences, its being in fair print (a circumstance we hardly think of), and the assistance of grammars, dictionaries, and instructors, render the work comparatively easy. But when we take up a language spoken by a people on the other side of the earth, whose very thoughts run in channels diverse from ours, and whose modes of expression are consequently all new and uncouth; when we find the letters and words all totally destitute of the least resemblance to any language we had ever met with, and these words not fairly divided and distinguished, as in Western writing, by breaks, and points, and capitals, but run together in one continuous line, a sentence or paragraph seeming to the eye but one long word; when, instead of clear characters on paper, we find only obscure scratches on dried palm leaves strung together and called a book; when we have no dictionary, and no interpreter to explain a single word, and must get something of the language before we can avail ourselves of the assistance of a native teacher,—

“I had hoped, before I came here, that it would not be my lot to have to go on alone, without any guide in an unexplored path, especially as missionaries had been here before. But Mr. Chater had left the country, and Mr. Carey was with me but very little, before he left the mission and the missionary work altogether.

“I long to write something more interesting and encouraging to the friends of the mission; but it must not yet be expected. It unavoidably takes several years to acquire such a language, in order to converse and write intelligibly on the great truths of the Gospel. Dr. Carey once told me, that after he had been some years in Bengal, and thought he was doing very well in conversing and preaching to the natives, they (as he was afterward convinced) knew not what he was about. A young missionary who expects to pick up the language in a year or two will probably find that he has not counted the cost. If he should be so fortunate as to find a good interpreter, he may be useful by that means. But he will find, especially if he is in a new place, where the way is not prepared, and no previous ideas communicated, that to qualify himself to communicate divine truth intelligibly by his own voice or pen, is not the work of a year. However, notwithstanding my present incompetency, I am beginning to translate the New Testament, being extremely anxious to get some parts of Scripture, at least, into an intelligible shape, if for no other purpose than to read, as occasion offers, to the Burmans I meet with.

“My paper allows me to add nothing more but to beg your prayers, that while I am much occupied in words and phrases, and destitute of those Gospel privileges you so richly enjoy, in the midst of your dear church and people, I may not lose the life of religion in my soul.”

The following extract from the Calcutta Review of December, 1850, will show how completely he mastered this difficult language:

“Let our readers dwell for a moment upon the difficulty, in their own powerful Saxon tongue, of discoursing upon free will, predestination, and many other such subjects, and then endeavor to realize to themselves how infinitely more difficult the attempt must be in a language of monosyllabic formation and structure; its very polysyllables being the roughest possible mosaic of monosyllables, and the genius and construction of the tongue such, that even the simple language of the Gospels—the sentences of which are in general so remarkably plain and free from complication—is beyond its flexibility, the simplest sentences in the Gospels of Mark or John having to be chopped up and decomposed, in order to adapt them to this peculiar language. Let our readers imagine, if they can, the wonderful command requisite of so awkward an instrument, in order to be enabled to answer an Oo Yan—‘How are sin and eternal misery reconcilable with the character of an infinitely holy, wise, and powerful God?’ or to meet the subtleties of a Moung Shwa-gnong, arguing on his fundamental doctrine, that divine wisdom, not concentrated in any existing spirit, or embodied in any form, but diffused throughout the universe, and partaken in different degrees by various intelligences, and in a very high degree by the Buddhs, is the true and only God. Yet so completely was Judson master of this very difficult tongue, and of the modes of thought of its people, that he could, by his replies and arguments, impart to an Oo Yan intense satisfaction, and a joy which exhibited itself by the ebullitions natural to a susceptible temperament; and, in the end, could force a subtle Moung Shwa-gnong to yield to the skill of a foreign disputant.”

But the chief hindrance to preaching the Gospel to the Burmans was the danger of persecution. Mr. Judson found himself in the dominions of a monarch upon whose slightest nod depended the life of each subject. Every convert knew that in adopting this new religion he was encountering the risk of confiscation of property, imprisonment, torture, or death in its most shocking form.

But in spite of these great difficulties, and even in the face of the fact that many of his brethren and sisters in his own, distant, native land regarded the undertaking as hopeless, and looked upon him as an obstinate and chimerical fanatic, he never for a moment lost hope. He felt as sure that Burmah would be converted to Christ as that it existed. He was buoyed up by the same faith that caused him to answer many years after, when he was asked whether he thought the prospects bright for the speedy conversion of the heathen, “As bright as the promises of God.” And in the darkest period of the history of our missions, he sounded the bugle-call, which will inspire the heart of the Christian missionary until that day when “The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ.”

“I have completed a grammar of the Burman language, which I hope will be useful to you; also a tract, which I hope to get printed as soon as Mr. Hough arrives.

“If any ask what success I meet with among the natives, tell them to look at Otaheite, where the missionaries labored nearly twenty years, and, not meeting with the slightest success, began to be neglected by all the Christian world, and the very name of Otaheite began to be a shame to the cause of missions; and now the blessing begins to come. Tell them to look at Bengal also, where Dr. Thomas had been laboring seventeen years (that is, from 1783 to 1800) before the first convert, Krishna, was baptized. When a few converts are once made, things move on; but it requires a much longer time than I have been here to make a first impression on a heathen people. If they ask again, What prospect of ultimate success is there? tell them, As much as that there is an almighty and faithful God, who will perform His promises, and no more. If this does not satisfy them, beg them to let me stay and try it, and to let you come, and to give us our bread; or, if they are unwilling to risk their bread on such a forlorn hope as has nothing but the Word of God to sustain it, beg of them, at least, not to prevent others from giving us bread; and, if we live some twenty or thirty years, they may hear from us again.

“This climate is good—better than in any other part of the East. But it is a most filthy, wretched place. Missionaries must not calculate on the least comfort, but what they find in one another and their work. However, if a ship was lying in the river, ready to convey me to any part of the world I should choose, and that, too, with the entire approbation of all my Christian friends, I would prefer dying to embarking. This is an immense field, and, since the Serampore missionaries have left it, it is wholly thrown on the hands of the American Baptists. If we desert it, the blood of the Burmans will be required of us.”

Upon arriving in Rangoon, of course there was nothing for Mr. and Mrs. Judson to do but to learn the Burmese language.

“As it respects ourselves,” Mrs. Judson writes, “we are busily employed all day long. I can assure you that we find much pleasure in our employment. Could you look into a large, open room, which we call a veranda, you would see Mr. Judson bent over his table, covered with Burman books, with his teacher at his side, a venerable-looking man in his sixtieth year, with a cloth wrapped round his middle, and a handkerchief round his head. They talk and chatter all day long, with hardly any cessation.

“My mornings are busily employed in giving directions to the servants, providing food for the family, etc. At ten my teacher comes, when, were you present, you might see me in an inner room, at one side of my study-table, and my teacher the other, reading Burman, writing, talking, etc. I have many more interruptions than Mr. Judson, as I have the entire management of the family. This I took upon myself for the sake of Mr. Judson’s attending more closely to the study of the language; yet I have found, by a year’s experience, that it was the most direct way I could have taken to acquire the language, as I am frequently obliged to speak Burman all day. I can talk and understand others better than Mr. Judson, though he knows more about the nature and construction of the language.”

After a few months Mr. and Mrs. Judson removed from the English Baptist mission-house into the city proper. The mission-house which they had been occupying was situated half a mile from Rangoon, near the place of public execution, where the refuse of the city streets was thrown, and not far from the place where the dead were buried. While outside the city walls, the missionaries were exposed to robbers and to wild beasts. It was thought best, therefore, to move into the city itself, especially as in this way they would be brought into closer contact with the people.

After they had been in Rangoon about a year and a half, Mrs. Judson’s health began to break down under the effects of the climate. They had no physician to consult, and her symptoms proving dangerous, she was obliged to sail to Madras to secure both medical advice and the recuperation of a sea voyage. She set sail on January 25, 1815, and after an absence of nearly three months, returned with her health much improved. This first experience of long separation was very painful. Mr. Judson writes:

“There is not an individual in the country that I can pray with, and not a single soul with whom I can have the least religious communion. I keep myself as busy as possible all day long, from sunrise till late in the evening, in reading Burman, and conversing with the natives. I have been here a year and a half, and so extremely difficult is the language—perhaps the most difficult to a foreigner of any on the face of the earth next to the Chinese—that I find myself very inadequate to communicate divine truth intelligibly. I have, in some instances, been so happy as to secure the attention, and in some degree to interest the feelings, of those who heard me; but I am not acquainted with a single instance in which any permanent impression has been produced. No Burman has, I believe, ever felt the grace of God; and what can a solitary, feeble individual or two expect to be the means of effecting in such a land as this, amid the triumphs of Satan, the darkness of death? The Lord is all-powerful, wise, and good; and this consideration alone always affords me unfailing consolation and support.”

In a letter to her parents, sisters, and brother, Mrs. Judson gave the following description of the voyage to Madras and her return to Rangoon:

“I embarked for Madras to procure medical assistance, and hoping a change of air would conduce to the restoration of my health. I was obliged to leave Mr. Judson here alone, without a single associate to animate him in his arduous work. We did not think it his duty for him to leave the mission if I could possibly go alone. But though I was separated from him, and felt for the first time in my life that I was entirely alone in this wide world, yet I could not but trace the kind dealings of God in inclining every one with whom I had any concern to favor and assist me in my way. The viceroy gave me an order to take a woman with me, free from expense, a thing which is generally attended with great difficulty, owing to the Burman law which forbids any female to leave the country. We went to him ourselves with a small present, which is customary when a favor is asked. On his seeing it, he inquired if we had any business; and on Mr. Judson’s presenting the petition, he immediately commanded his writer to give us an official order, without causing us any expense whatever. The captain with whom I went refused any pay for my passage, though he provided every necessary for one in ill health. I stayed at Madras six weeks, and resided at Mr. Loveless’ house, where I received every attention. When about to leave Madras, I sent the physician under whose care I had been, seventy rupees, which he immediately returned, saying he was happy if he had been serviceable to me. After an absence of three months I safely arrived at Rangoon, where I found Mr. Judson well, and laboring hard, though entirely alone. My health continued to mend, and on the 11th of September I was made the happy mother of a little son. I had no physician or assistant whatever excepting Mr. Judson. Since the birth of our little son my health has been much better than for two years before. I feel now almost in a new state of existence. Our hands are full, and though our prospects in regard to the immediate conversion of the Burmans are dark, yet our trust in God is strong, and our hopes animating.”

The little boy to whom Mrs. Judson alludes in this letter was born September 11, 1815, and named Roger Williams, but on May 4, 1816, he closed his brief life on earth, at the age of seven months and twenty-three days.

In a letter dated Rangoon, May 7, 1816, Mr. Judson conveys the sad intelligence to the Rev. Mr. Lawson, missionary at Serampore:

“Our little comfort, our dear little Roger, has become insensible to our parental attentions and fond caresses; the light of his mild blue eyes is quenched, his sweet face has become cold to our lips, and his little mind, which, to a parent’s discernment at least, discovered peculiar sensibility and peculiar sweetness of disposition, has deserted its infantile tenement and fled—oh, where? Into what strange scenes is it introduced? Who supports and guides its trembling steps across the dark valley? There a parent’s aid could not be extended. But we hope it had a more affectionate and abler guide. We hope that Jesus has repaired the ruins of the fall in regard to all little children. And who but thinks their departed children sweet and lovely beyond compare? Perhaps I am a novice in affliction. Had I lost a wife, I might not thus lament for a little child eight months old. Yet nothing but such a scene of bereavement and anguish as we have passed through can teach us to pity others in like circumstances. Nothing but experience can teach us what feelings agonize the soul of a parent when he puts his face to that of his dear, his only child, to ascertain whether there may not be one breath more; and when satisfied of the truth, when hope expires with life, he tries to raise the bursting aspiration: O Lord, receive the spirit!

“Our little Roger died last Saturday morning. We looked at him through the day, and on the approach of night we laid him in the grave. This is the fourth day, and we just begin to think, What can we do for the heathen? But yet it seems hard to forget little Roger so soon, to force off our thoughts from the attractive, painful subject, and to return to our usual employments. O may we not suffer in vain! May this bereavement be sanctified to our souls! and for this I hope we have your prayers.

“How is Mrs. Lawson, and your little ones? We had only one. Might not this have been spared? It was almost all our comfort and our amusement in this dreary place. But, ‘the Lord gave,’ etc.”

At this same period Mrs. Judson thus opened her sorrowful heart to a lady in Beverly, Mass.:

“The sun of another holy Sabbath has arisen upon us, and though no chime of bells has called us to the house of God, yet we, two in number, have bowed the knee to our Father in heaven, have invoked His holy name, have offered Him our feeble praise, have meditated on His Sacred Word, and commemorated the dying love of a Saviour to a perishing world. Inestimable privileges! Not denied even in a land where the Prince of Darkness reigns!

“Since worship I have stolen away to a much-loved spot, where I love to sit and pay the tribute of affection to my lost darling child. It is a little enclosure of mango-trees, in the centre of which is erected a small bamboo-house on a rising spot of ground, which looks down on the new-made grave of an infant boy. Here I now sit; and though all nature around wears a most romantic, delightful appearance, yet my heart is sad, and my tears frequently stop my pen. You, my dear Mrs. Lovett, who are a mother, may guess my feelings; but if you have never lost a first-born, an only son, you can not know my pain. Had you even buried your little boy, you are in a Christian country, surrounded by friends and relatives who could soothe your anguish and direct your attention to other objects. But behold us solitary and alone, with this one single source of recreation! Yet even this is denied us; this must be removed, to show us that we need no other source of enjoyment but God himself! Do not think, though I thus write, that I repine at the dealings of Providence, or would wish them to be otherwise than they are. No; ‘though He slay me, I will trust in Him,’ is the language I would adopt. Though I say with the prophet, ‘Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow,’ yet I would also say with him, ‘It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.’”

While engaged in the hard task of learning the Burman language, Mr. Judson caught eagerly at every opportunity of imparting Christian truth. We give his record of a conversation with his teacher:

“September 30, 1815. Had the following conversation with my teacher, as nearly as I can recollect it. This man has been with me about three months, and is the most sensible, learned, and candid man that I have ever found among the Burmans. He is forty-seven years of age, and his name is Oo Oungmen. I began by saying, Mr. J—— is dead. Oo. I have heard so. J. His soul is lost, I think. Oo. Why so? J. He was not a disciple of Christ. Oo. How do you know that? You could not see his soul. J. How do you know whether the root of that mango-tree is good? You can not see it; but you can judge by the fruit on its branches. Thus I know that Mr. J. was not a disciple of Christ, because his words and actions were not such as indicate a disciple. Oo. And so all who are not disciples of Christ are lost? J. Yes, all, whether Burmans or foreigners. Oo. This is hard. J. Yes, it is hard indeed; otherwise I should not have come all this way, and left parents and all, to tell you of Christ. He seemed to feel the force of this, and after stopping a little he said, How is it that the disciples of Christ are so fortunate above all men? J. Are not all men sinners, and deserving of punishment in a future state? Oo. Yes, all must suffer in some future state for the sins they commit. The punishment follows the crime as surely as the wheel of the cart follows the footsteps of the ox. J. Now, according to the Burman system, there is no escape. According to the Christian system, there is. Jesus Christ has died in the place of sinners—has borne their sins; and now those who believe on Him, and become His disciples, are released from the punishment they deserve. At death, they are received into heaven, and are happy forever. Oo. That I will never believe. My mind is very stiff on this one point, namely, that all existence involves in itself principles of misery and destruction. The whole universe is only destruction and reproduction. It therefore becomes a wise man to raise his desires above all things that exist, and aspire to nigban, the state where there is no existence. J. Teacher, there are two evil futurities, and one good. A miserable future existence is evil, and annihilation, or nigban, is an evil, a fearful evil. A happy future existence is alone good. Oo. I admit that is best, if it could be perpetual; but it can not be. Whatever is, is liable to change, and misery, and destruction. Nigban is the only permanent good, and that good has been attained by Gaudama, the last deity. J. If there be no eternal being, you can not account for anything. Whence this world, and all that we see? Oo. Fate. J. Fate! The cause must always be equal to the effect. See, I raise this table. See also that ant under it Suppose I were invisible, would a wise man say the ant raised it? Now, fate is not even an ant. Fate is a word; that is all. It is not an agent; not a thing. What is fate? Oo. The fate of creatures is the influence which their good or bad deeds have on their future existence. J. If influence be exerted, there must be an exerter. If there be a determination, there must be a determiner. Oo. No, there is no determiner. There can not be an eternal being. J. Consider this point. It is a main point of true wisdom. Whenever there is an execution of a purpose, there must be an agent. Oo. (After a little thought.) I must say that my mind is very decided and hard, and unless you tell me something more to the purpose, I shall never believe. J. Well, teacher, I wish you to believe, not for my profit, but for yours. I daily pray the true God to give you light that you may believe. Whether you will ever believe in this world, I do not know; but when you die, I know you will believe what I now say. You will then appear before the God that you now deny. Oo. I don’t know that. J. I have heard that one Burman, many years ago, embraced the Portuguese religion, and that he was your relation. Oo. He was a brother of my grandfather. J. At Ava, or here? Oo. At Ava he became a Portuguese; afterwards went to a ship country with a ship-priest, and returned to Ava. J. I have heard he was put to death for his religion. Oo. No, he was imprisoned and tortured by order of the emperor. At last he escaped from their hands, fled to Rangoon, and afterwards to Bengal, where they say he died. J. Did any of his family join him? Oo. None; all forsook him; and he wandered about, despised and rejected by all. J. Do you think that he was a decided Christian, and had got a new mind? Oo. I think so; for when he was tortured hard, he held out. J. Did he ever talk with you about religion? Oo. Yes. J. Why did you not listen to him? Oo. I did not listen. J. Did you ever know any other Burman that changed his own for a foreign religion? Oo. I have heard that there is one now in Rangoon, who became a Portuguese; but he keeps himself concealed, and I have never seen him.”

After almost three years of the closest application to study, Mr. Judson was taken ill. He wrote to Dr. Baldwin:

“I began to enter into my studies with such pleasure and spirit, and to make such rapid progress, as encouraged me to hope that the time was not far distant when I should be able to commence missionary operations. I was going forward in a course of most valuable Burman reading, and, at the same time, had begun to translate one of the Gospels, and to write a ‘View of the Christian Religion’ in Burman, which, in imagination, were already finished and circulating among the natives, when, all of a sudden, in the midst of the hot season, which in this country is most severe during the months of March and April, I was seized with a distressing weakness and pain in my eyes and head, which put a stop to all my delightful pursuits, and reduced me to a pitiable state indeed. Since that time, excepting at some intervals, I have been unable to read, or write, or make any exertion whatever. Sometimes I have almost given up the hope that I should ever be of any more service; sometimes I have been on the point of trying a short voyage at sea. But, thanks be to God, it is now ten days since I have experienced a turn of severe pain, though I still feel great weakness in my head, and, indeed, throughout my whole nervous system. I begin now to hope that I shall gradually recover, though I fear I never shall be as I formerly was.”

He improved even the hours of his illness by collecting what knowledge he had acquired of the language and “putting it together in the shape of a grammar that it might not be wholly lost to others.” Fearing that his own life might soon come to a close, he determined to blaze the trees through this hitherto untrodden wilderness of the Burmese language, by preparing a grammar. On July 13, 1816, exactly three years to a day after his arrival, he completed a work with the modest title, “Grammatical Notices of the Burman Language.” It was printed twenty years afterward; and although it was the result of a study of only three years, of one of the most difficult Oriental languages, and was written to relieve the tedium of a sick-bed, yet its merits were such as to command the following notice in the Calcutta Review:

“He (Dr. Judson) published another work, a grammar of no pretensions, and of very small dimensions, yet a manual which indicated the genius of the man, perhaps, more strikingly than anything else, except his Bible. He has managed, from a thorough knowledge of the language, to condense into a few short pages (only seventy-six) a most complete grammar of this difficult tongue; and, as the student grows in knowledge, pari passu, this little volume rises in his estimation; for its lucid, comprehensive conciseness becomes more and more manifest. In our limited acquaintance with languages, whether of the East or West, we have seen no work in any tongue which we should compare with it for brevity and completeness; yet we have, in our day, had to study and wade through some long and some would-be short grammars.”

Partially recovering from his illness, Mr. Judson completed, on July 30, 1816, his first tract, entitled “A View of the Christian Religion, in three parts, Historic, Didactic, and Preceptive.”

The next step was to multiply this tract and speed it on its way among the Burmans. A press and Burman types had already arrived—a valuable present from the English Baptist brethren of Serampore. A missionary printer, the Rev. Geo. H. Hough, and his wife, were already on their way from America. Mr. Rice was still arousing the Baptists in the United States to send on reinforcements of men and money.

Mr. Judson wrote again and again appealing for help.

“We know not the designs of God in regard to this country; but I can not but have raised expectations. It is true we may have to labor and wait many years before the blessing comes. But we see what God is doing in other heathen lands, after trying the faith and sincerity of His servants some fifteen or twenty years. Look at Otaheite, Bengal, Africa. And is Burmah to remain a solitary instance of the inefficacy of prayer, of the forgetfulness of a merciful and faithful God? Is it nothing that an attempt is begun to be made; that, in one instance, the language is considerably acquired; that a tract is ready for publication, which is intelligible and perspicuous, and will give the Burmans their first ideas of a Saviour and the way of salvation; that a press and types have now arrived, and a printer is on the way; that a grammar is finished, to facilitate the studies of others, and a dictionary of the language is in a very forward state; and that the way is now prepared, as soon as health permits, to proceed slowly in the translation of the New Testament? Is it nothing that, just at this time, the monarch of the country has taken a violent hate to the priests of his own religion, and is endeavoring, with all his power, to extirpate the whole order, at the same time professing to be an inquirer after the true religion? Is all this to be set down a mere cipher? It is true that we may desire much more. But let us use what we have, and God will give us more. However, men and money must be forthcoming. Work can not be done without men, and men can not work without bread; nor can we expect the ravens to feed them in ordinary cases. I do not say several hundred missionaries are needed here. This, though true, would be idle talk. My request I think modest. Five men, allowing two or three to each of the stations, is the smallest number that will possibly answer.

“Permit me to close with a word in behalf of Eastern missions. Great Britain and the United States appear to be the only countries which can at present take a very active part in missionary concerns. The British are fully occupied with India, Africa, and the South Sea Islands. East of the British possessions in India are Burmah, Siam, several other Indo-Chinese nations, the great empire of China, Japan, thence north indefinitely, and southward the numerous Malayan Isles. With all these countries the British are no more connected than the Americans. The British are under no greater obligations to evangelize them than the Americans. They are no nearer the English, in point of transportation, than the Americans. And furthermore, throughout all these countries the British are suspected and feared; but not the Americans.

“The idea that the western continent belongs to the Americans, and the eastern continent to the British, however plausible at first sight, can not bear a moment’s examination. I apprehend that all the northwestern Indians, and the inhabitants of those parts of South America which are accessible, will scarcely outnumber the inhabitants of this single empire of Burmah. And on what principle can the Americans, who are perhaps half as numerous as the British, be let off with one-twentieth or one-thirtieth part of the work? But when we apply the case to the Baptists, it is still more decisive. There are about five hundred Baptist churches in Great Britain, which average one hundred members each. There are two thousand in America, which average about the same. Behold Ireland, also, almost as destitute as South America. And suppose the British should say, This is the proper province of our missionary exertions; let us leave Asia and Africa to the Americans, and ‘not send our young men to the antipodes.’”

But while asking for men, he wanted the right kind. They must be well qualified.

“In encouraging other young men to come out as missionaries, do use the greatest caution. One wrong-headed, conscientiously-obstinate fellow would ruin us. Humble, quiet, persevering men; men of sound, sterling talents (though, perhaps, not brilliant), of decent accomplishments, and some natural aptitude to acquire a language; men of an amiable, yielding temper, willing to take the lowest place, to be the least of all and the servants of all; men who enjoy much closet religion, who live near to God, and are willing to suffer all things for Christ’s sake, without being proud of it, these are the men, etc. But O, how unlike to this description is the writer of it.”...

Again he wrote:

“In regard to the education necessary for missionaries, it appears to me that whatever of mental improvement, or of literary and scientific attainment, is desirable in a minister at home, is desirable in a missionary. I think I could illustrate this in a variety of particulars; but the limits of a letter do not allow. I feel, however, more and more, the inadequacy and comparative insignificance of all human accomplishments, whether in a minister or a missionary, and the unspeakable, overwhelming importance of spiritual graces—humility, patience, meekness, love—the habitual enjoyment of closet religion, a soul abstracted from this world, and much occupied in the contemplation of heavenly glories. Here I can not help digressing from the subject to myself. You know not, my dear sir, you can not conceive, how utterly unfit I am for the work in which I am engaged. I am, indeed, a worm, and no man. It is a wonder that I am allowed to live as a missionary among the heathen, and receive an undeserved support from the dear people of God—from many who are poor in this world, but rich in faith. Yet I feel necessity laid on me to remain here, and try to do a little something.”

The reinforcements at last arrived. On October 15, 1816, the Rev. Mr. Hough and family landed at Rangoon, and the following joint letter was signed by Mr. Judson and Mr. Hough to Dr. Staughton, the Corresponding Secretary of the missionary society in America, to which these missionaries looked for support:

“It is with peculiar satisfaction that we are, at length, able to address a letter to the Board, in our joint capacity. We had a joyful meeting in this place the 15th ult. Mr. Hough has settled in one part of the mission-house; and we are now united, both as a church of Christ and as a mission society. Our regulations on the latter point we here submit to the Board. It will be evident, at first sight, that these regulations have a prospective view, and are framed somewhat differently from what they would have been had we not expected that our society would soon be enlarged. But we hope that the time is not far distant when they will receive the signature of brother Rice also. Indeed, we hope for more than this; we hope that one or two others will be found to accompany Mr. Rice.

“It is true that one of us remained about three years in this place without uttering any Macedonian cries. But we apprehend that the time is now come when it is consistent with the strictest prudence to lift up our voice and say, Come over the ocean and help us. By a residence of three years in this country, many doubts, which at first occurred, are removed; and many points concerning the practicability of a mission, and the prospect of success, are ascertained. We can not now enter much into detail; but we desire to say that we consider the mission established in this land. We unite in opinion that a wide door is set open for the introduction of the religion of Jesus into this great empire. We have at present no governmental interdict to encounter, and no greater obstacles than such as oppose the progress of missionaries in every heathen land. It appears to us (and may it so appear to our fathers and brethren) that God, in removing the English mission from this place, and substituting in their stead an American mission, is emphatically calling on the American churches to compassionate the poor Burmans, and to send their silver, and their gold, and their young men to this eastern part of the world, to the help of the Lord against the mighty.

“It is with great pleasure that we announce the valuable present of a press and Burman types, made to us by the Serampore brethren. We are now closing in a room for a temporary printing-office, and hope very soon to issue a Gospel tract, which has been in readiness some time, and which is intended to give the heathen around us some idea of the way of salvation through the Lord Jesus. But we can not move one step in the way of printing without money. Though favored with the press, in the first instance, gratis, we have already expended in paper, freight, and sundries, about four hundred rupees. We therefore beg an immediate appropriation, not only to liquidate the expenses already incurred, but to enable us to proceed in this all-important part of our work. The accounts of the mission press we propose to keep distinct; and they shall be submitted together with the accounts of the mission.

“We know not how long the press will be permitted to remain in Rangoon; we do not, however, deprecate its removal to Ava. Such a measure would doubtless tend to the furtherance of the cause, and to the introduction of religion into the very heart of the empire, where Satan’s seat is. But in this case more men and more money would be imperatively demanded; and we trust that the patronage of the Board will not fail us in these necessary points. We desire humbly to repeat to the Board what the first missionaries from the Baptist society in England said to their friends, when on the point of embarkation in the great work which seems destined to illumine Western India with the light of the Gospel. ‘We are,’ said they, ‘like men going down into a well; you stand at the top and hold the ropes. Do not let us fall.’ Hold us up, brethren and fathers; and if health and life be spared to us, we hope, through the grace of God, to see Eastern India also beginning to participate in the same glorious light. Many years may intervene in the latter as well as in the former case; many difficulties and disappointments may try your faith and ours. But let patience have her perfect work; let us not be weary of well-doing; for in due time we shall reap, if we faint not.”

The articles of agreement alluded to in this letter are as follows:

“In order more effectually, under the blessing of our Lord and Master, to accomplish the important work for which we have come into this heathen land, we, the undersigned, form a union on the following principles, namely:

“1. We give ourselves to the Lord Jesus Christ and to one another by the will of God.

“2. We agree to be kindly-affectioned one toward another with brotherly love, in honor preferring one another; feeling that we have one Master, even Christ, and that all we are brethren.

“3. We agree in the opinion that our sole object on earth is to introduce the religion of Jesus Christ into the empire of Burmah; and that the means by which we hope to effect this are, translating, printing, and distributing the Holy Scriptures, preaching the Gospel, circulating religious tracts, and promoting the instruction of native children.

“4. We therefore agree to engage in no secular business for the purpose of individual emolument; and not at all, unless, in the opinion of the brethren, the great object of the mission can be best promoted thereby.

“5. We agree to relinquish all private right to remittances from America, avails of labor, and compensation for service; in a word, to place all money and property, from whatever quarter accruing, in the mission fund; provided, that nothing in this article be construed to affect our private right to inheritances, or personal favors, not made in compensation of service.

“6. We agree that all the members of the mission family have claims on the mission fund for equal support in similar circumstances; the claims of widows and orphans not to be in the least affected by the death of the head of their family. But it is to be understood that no one shall have a right to adopt a child into the mission family, so as to entitle it to the claims secured in this article, but by consent of the brethren.

“7. We agree to educate our children with a particular reference to the object of the mission; and if any expense be necessary or expedient for this purpose, it shall be defrayed from the mission fund.

“8. All appropriations from the mission fund shall be made by a majority of the missionary brethren united in this compact; subject, however, to the inspection of our patrons, the Board.

Upon Mr. Hough’s arrival he immediately put the printing-press into operation. One thousand copies of the tract above mentioned and three thousand copies of a catechism which had just been completed by Mrs. Judson, were struck off and put into circulation. This strange new religion could not fail of at least catching the attention of the inquisitive Burmans. As the fishermen attach many hooks to a long line stretched across a river, hoping that at least a few of the many fishes swimming past may be taken, so our missionaries, with much care and toil, adjusted their trawl of tracts in the midst of the dense Burmese population, and anxiously, prayerfully awaited the result.

After only a few weeks of suspense they caught the first inquirer. In a letter to the Corresponding Secretary, dated Rangoon, March 7, 1817, Mr. Judson writes:

“Since the beginning of this year, we have printed two tracts, the one a view of the Christian religion, seven pages, one thousand copies; the other a catechism of six pages, 12mo, three thousand copies. After which, finding that we had paper sufficient for an edition of eight hundred of Matthew, we concluded to undertake this one gospel, by way of trial, and as introductory to a larger edition of the whole New Testament. I am now translating the eleventh chapter, and in the printing-room the third half-sheet is setting up. Having premised thus much concerning the present posture of our affairs, I proceed to mention the circumstance which induced me to take up my pen at this time. I have this day been visited by the first inquirer after religion that I have ever seen in Burmah. For, although in the course of the last two years I have preached the Gospel to many, and though some have visited me several times, and conversed on the subject of religion, yet I have never had much reason to believe that their visits originated in a spirit of sincere inquiry. Conversations on religion have always been of my proposing, and, though I have sometimes been encouraged to hope that truth had made some impression, never, till to-day, have I met with one who was fairly entitled to the epithet of inquirer.

“As I was sitting with my teacher, as usual, a Burman of respectable appearance, and followed by a servant, came up the steps, and sat down by me. I asked him the usual question, where he came from, to which he gave no explicit reply, and I began to suspect that he had come from the Government house, to enforce a trifling request which in the morning we had declined. He soon, however, undeceived and astonished me, by asking, ‘How long time will it take me to learn the religion of Jesus?’ I replied that such a question could not be answered. If God gave light and wisdom, the religion of Jesus was soon learned; but, without God, a man might study all his life long, and make no proficiency. ‘But how,’ continued I, ‘came you to know anything of Jesus? Have you ever been here before?’ ‘No.’ ‘Have you seen any writing concerning Jesus?’ ‘I have seen two little books.’ ‘Who is Jesus?’ ‘He is the Son of God, who, pitying creatures, came into this world, and suffered death in their stead.’ ‘Who is God?’ ‘He is a being without beginning or end, who is not subject to old age and death, but always is.’ I can not tell how I felt at this moment. This was the first acknowledgment of an eternal God that I had ever heard from the lips of a Burman. I handed him a tract and catechism, both which he instantly recognized, and read here and there, making occasional remarks to his follower, such as ‘This is the true God; this is the right way,’ etc. I now tried to tell him some things about God and Christ, and himself, but he did not listen with much attention, and seemed anxious only to get another book. I had already told him two or three times that I had finished no other book, but that in two or three months I would give him a larger one, which I was now daily employed in translating. ‘But,’ replied he, ‘have you not a little of that book done, which you will graciously give me now?’ And I, beginning to think that God’s time is better than man’s, folded and gave him the first two half-sheets, which contain the first five chapters of Matthew, on which he instantly rose, as if his business was all done, and, having received an invitation to come again, took leave.

“Throughout his short stay, he appeared different from any Burmans I have yet met with. He asked no questions about customs and manners, with which the Burmans tease us exceedingly. He had no curiosity, and no desire for anything, but ‘MORE OF THIS SORT OF WRITING.’ In fine, his conduct proved that he had something on his mind, and I can not but hope that I shall have to write about him again.

“March 24. We have not yet seen our inquirer; but to-day we met with one of his acquaintance, who says that he reads our books all the day, and shows them to all that call upon him. We told him to ask his friend to come and see us again.”

In a letter written almost a year afterward, Mrs. Judson alludes to this same inquirer:

“January 30. The Burman Mr. Judson mentioned some time ago as being the first serious inquirer, and one who has excited the most hope, came to-day to the mission-house. It is now almost a year since he first came, and with much apparent anxiety inquired, ‘How long time will it take me to learn the religion of Jesus?’ We have since frequently inquired, but obtained little information respecting him until to-day. Soon after his first visit, he was appointed governor of a cluster of villages situated on the Salwen River, in the country of Pegu. He has been at Rangoon but once since, and then on business by order of the viceroy, and obliged to return immediately.

“I asked him if he had become a disciple of Jesus Christ. He replied, ‘I have not yet, but I am thinking and reading in order to become one. I can not yet destroy my old mind; for when I see a handsome patso (a cloth the Burman men wear) or a handsome gownbown (the handkerchief worn on the head), I still desire them. Tell the great teacher, when he returns, that I wish to see him, though I am not a disciple of Christ.’ He requested the remaining part of Matthew’s gospel, also catechisms and tracts for his followers. I gave all of his attendants tracts; on which he said to them, ‘Take and read them attentively, and when you have embraced the doctrines they contain, come here, and converse with the teacher.’”

As no further mention is made of this first inquirer who caused such a leap of hope in Mr. Judson’s heart, we are left in the dark as to his subsequent life, as in the case of the young man who asked our blessed Lord what good thing he should do that he might have eternal life, and having heard the reply, went away sorrowing. Did this eager inquirer for “more of this sort of writing” learn to cherish a secret faith in the Christ, so earnestly commended to him by the pale-faced stranger? or, rejecting the Saviour, did he make what Dante calls “the great refusal”?

On May 20, 1817, Mr. Judson completed the translation of the gospel of Matthew. This marks the first stage in the monumental task of translating the whole Bible into Burmese. Two days later he began to compile a Burman dictionary. But close application for more than four years to the study of the Burman language and to the translation of tracts and Scriptures, and to the compilation of a grammar and dictionary, were breaking down his health. A sea voyage was needed to restore his vigor. But need of rest alone would not have caused him to take even a few weeks’ vacation from his toils and cares. He was impatient to begin holding public services in the Burman tongue. But although he understood the structure of the language, and could read, and write, and speak in Burman, yet for conducting public worship he felt the need of a native Christian helper.

Burmah is flanked on the western side by the mountains of Arracan; between these and the Bay of Bengal lies the flat coast district of Chittagong. It had been ceded to the English. The inhabitants of this district spoke Burmese. A few years before, the English Baptists had begun a mission in Chittagong. Several converts had been baptized, when the mission was abandoned. Mr. Judson conceived the plan of visiting Chittagong, in order to gather together the scattered converts, instruct them anew, and perhaps bring one or two of them to help him in Rangoon. This would furnish him employment during the needed vacation. Besides, the rare opportunity was afforded of going and returning in the same ship; so that he would have to be absent for only three months. How painfully this pet project of his was frustrated, and how his three months were stretched out into almost two-thirds of a precious year, may be learned from the following letters to the Corresponding Secretary:

“In former letters I have stated my circumstances at the close of last year, and the reasons which induced me to leave Rangoon on a visit to Chittagong; particularly the prospect of a direct passage, and speedy return in the same ship—an opportunity of very rare occurrence in Rangoon.

“Since that time a series of unexpected providences have befallen me, which, though uninteresting in detail, must be briefly mentioned, in order to account for my present situation.

“When we left Rangoon, December 25, we expected a passage of ten or twelve days. At the expiration of a month, however, by reason of contrary winds, and the unmanageableness of the ship in the difficult navigation along the coast, we found ourselves still at a great distance from port; and the season being so far advanced as to deprive us of the hope of more favorable winds, the captain and supercargo agreed on a change of the ship’s destination, and made sail for Madras.

“Previous to leaving the coast, we put into Cheduba, a place under Burman government, for a supply of provisions. I was unable to go ashore, but took the opportunity of sending a tract by the boat. It happened to be conveyed directly to the governor, and he ordered it read in his presence. Soon after, when our captain had an audience, the governor inquired after the writer of the tract, who he was, and how long he had been in the country. The captain evaded some questions, for fear of detention, I suppose, and merely stated that the writer was a foreigner, who had resided in Rangoon about four years. ‘No,’ replied the governor, ‘that is not to be credited. You can not make me believe that a foreigner, in so short a time, has learned to write the language so well. It must have been written by some other person.’ The captain related this to me on his return. I felt particularly gratified by this testimony to the perspicuity of the style, and thought it not unworthy of mentioning, because it could not be suspected, as others which had been made to me personally, of having been a mere compliment.

“The ship’s destination was changed on the 26th of January. We retraced our course for a few days, and then stood to the westward. It was with the most bitter feelings that I witnessed the entire failure of my undertaking, and saw the summits of the mountains of Arracan, the last indexes of my country, sinking in the horizon, and the ship stretching away to a distant part of India, which I had no wish to visit, and where I had no object to obtain. It was, however, some mitigation of my disappointment, that I should, in all probability, be able to return to Rangoon, and resume my missionary business much earlier than if I had visited Chittagong. But even the consolation of this hope was not long allowed me. We had, indeed, a quick passage across the bay; but on drawing near the Coromandel coast the wind and current combined to prevent our further progress, and at the expiration of another month, having for a long time subsisted on nothing scarcely but rice and water, and being now reduced to very short allowance, we concluded to make sail for Masulipatam, a port north of Madras, which we doubted not we should be able to reach in a very few days. In this, again, we were disappointed, and through the unmanageableness of the ship, or the mismanagement of the captain, were detained at sea nearly another month. During this period we were sometimes in great distress, deeming ourselves very fortunate when able to get a bag of rice, or a few buckets of water, from any native vessel which happened to pass. Once we sent the long-boat to the shore, and obtained a considerable supply of water, which was a great relief. But of rice we could obtain no sufficient supply, and all other articles of provision were quite out of the question.

“The low state to which I was at length reduced occasioned a partial return of the disorder of my head and eyes, to which I was subject two years ago. This, with other circumstances united, left me no other source of consolation but resignation to the will of God, and an unreserved surrender of all to His care; and praised be His name, I found more consolation and happiness in communion with God, and in the enjoyments of religion, than I had ever found in more prosperous circumstances.

“Finally we did reach Masulipatam, and I left the ship on the 18th of March, twelve weeks after embarking at Rangoon. I waited at Masulipatam a few days, until it was ascertained that the ship would unlade her cargo, and remain several months. And as there was no prospect that season of reaching Madras by sea, the only port on the coast where I could hope to find a vessel bound to Rangoon, I was under the necessity of taking a journey by land—distance about three hundred miles. I accordingly hired a palanquin and bearers, and arrived here the 8th of April. My first aim was, of course, the beach, and my first inquiry a vessel bound to Rangoon. But my chapter of disappointments was not yet finished. No vessel had sailed for Rangoon this year, and such, it was understood, was the unsettled state of the Burman country, that none would probably venture for some time to come.

“Here I have remained ever since, under very trying circumstances. Have scarcely heard from Rangoon since I left, or been able to transmit any intelligence thither by a conveyance to be depended on. The weakness of my eyes prevents my application to study, or attempt at any exertion. I am making no progress in missionary work; I am distressed by the appalling recollection of the various business which was pressing on me at Rangoon, and made me very reluctant to leave home for the shortest time. Now, I have been detained twice as long as I anticipated, and have, withal, wholly failed in my undertaking. Where, my rebellious heart is ready to cry, where is the wisdom of all this? But it is wise, though blindness can not apprehend. It is best, though unbelief is disposed to murmur. Be still, my soul, and know that He is God.”

“My last was dated Madras, May 28, 1818. At that place I remained, waiting for a conveyance to Rangoon, until the 20th of July, when I took passage on an English vessel, at one hundred and sixty-seven rupees. During my stay in Madras, I experienced great kindness and hospitality in the families of the Rev. Mr. Thompson, chaplain, and the Rev. Mr. Loveless, missionary; and received such proofs of Christian affection from many dear friends, as rendered parting with them very painful, though my detention in Madras had, in other respects, been almost insupportable. We anchored at the mouth of Rangoon River, on the 2d of August. The next morning, when the pilot came on board, I was overwhelmed with the intelligence that, on account of the dangerous situation of affairs, the mission had been broken up, and that Mr. Hough and family, and Mrs. Judson, had taken passage for Bengal. To my great relief, however, it was added, that, before the ship left the river, Mrs. Judson’s reluctance to leave the place had so increased as to force her back to the mission-house alone; and further, that the ship, being found unfit for sea, was still detained. On my arrival, I found that brother Hough was inclined to pursue his original plan. His reasons he will doubtless communicate to the Board. It is expected that the vessel will be ready for sea in about a fortnight.”

It is characteristic of Mr. Judson’s letters to the Board that he kept out of sight his own personal sufferings, touching only upon matters which seemed to him of general interest and importance. We are, therefore, indebted to Mrs. E. C. Judson for certain reminiscences of this horrible voyage, which she received from his own lips:

“They had sailed for Chittagong, a passage which should have been made in ten or twelve days, at farthest. He had, therefore, prepared himself for only a few weeks’ absence from home. When the vessel put in at Cheduba, the nervous affection of his head and eyes, occasioned at first by low diet, had so much increased by exhaustion and lack of food, that he was unable to go on shore. When they approached the Coromandel coast, and again encountered contrary winds, they were reduced to almost the last extremity, and the constitution of Mr. Judson sank under these accumulated hardships. The mouldy, broken rice, which they picked up from native vessels, and this in small quantities, with a limited supply of water, was their sole sustenance for three or four weeks. He was accustomed to look back on his sufferings at this time with a feeling of horror scarcely equalled by his reminiscences of Ava. Here he was alone, in a state of passive, monotonous suffering, with no one to share his sympathies, and nothing to arouse his energies. His scanty wardrobe, prepared for a trip of ten or twelve days, had been long since exhausted, and what with starvation, filth, pain, and discouragement, he became unable to leave his berth. At last he was attacked by a slow fever, and turning in disgust from his little mess of dirty rice, he begged continually for water! water! water! without ever obtaining enough to quench, even for a moment, his devouring thirst. At length the little vessel came to anchor in the mud of Masulipatam, some two or three miles from the low, uninviting beach, and the captain came to inquire if he would be taken on shore. The fact that they were near land seemed to him an incredible thing, a kind of dreamy illusion too fanciful to interest him. After some urging, however, he became sufficiently roused to pencil a note, which he addressed to ‘any English resident of Masulipatam,’ begging only for a place on shore to die. After a little while, one of the men came below, to tell him that a boat was approaching from the shore. He now succeeded in crawling to the window of his cabin, from which he plainly distinguished, in the rapidly moving boat, both the red coat of the military and the white jacket of the civilian. In the first thrill of joyful surprise, the sudden awakening of hope and pleasure, he threw himself on his knees and wept. Before his new friends were fairly on board, he had succeeded in gaining some little self-control; but he added, his voice faltering and his eyes filling with tears as he related the incident to Mrs. Judson, ‘The white face of an Englishman never looked to me so beautiful, so like my conception of what angel faces are, as when these strangers entered my cabin.’ They were very much shocked at his visible wretchedness: he was haggard, unshaven, dirty, and so weak that he could with difficulty support his own weight. Their earnest cordiality was peculiarly grateful to him. One of the officers took him to his own house, supplied him from his own wardrobe, procured a nurse, whom, however, he had occasion to employ but a short time, and displayed throughout a generous hospitality which Dr. Judson never forgot.”

But his anxieties and sufferings during this voyage were fully parallelled by those of the heroic woman whom he had left behind him at Rangoon. From Christmas-day of 1817 until July 16 of the following year, no word whatever came to Mrs. Judson from her husband, from whom she had expected to be parted only for a few weeks. She occupied part of her time teaching about thirty Burman women whom she had gathered together. She writes:

“I have again commenced my studies, keeping myself closely engaged until 2 o’clock. This I find the best method to avoid dejection. Besides my conscience will not permit me to sit idly down, and yield to those depressing feelings in which a Christian should not indulge.”

A succession of disasters had swept over the little mission. She alone faltered not. We catch a gleam at Rangoon of that same fidelity and courage that afterward burned so long and so steadily at Ava and Oung-penla. The mission was harassed by Government persecution. It was rumored that the foreigners were to be banished. The viceroy, who had been their steady friend, was recalled to Ava. The new viceroy was a stranger to them. A menacing order summoned Mr. Hough to the court-house, with the message that, “If he did not tell all the truth relative to his situation in the country, they would write with his heart’s blood.” Mrs. Judson interceded in person, and by her own knowledge of the language, and her matchless womanly tact, conciliated the viceroy. Asiatic cholera raged in Rangoon. The death-gong sounded all the day long. Rumors of war between England and Burmah filled the air. The English ships one by one hastily weighed anchor and slipped out of the harbor; only a single vessel remained—the only way of escape. Her missionary associates, the Houghs, determined to seize this last opportunity, and fly from the country before it was too late. Against her will they urged her on board. But her great nature rose in its strength. She insisted on going ashore. She tore herself away and went back to the mission premises alone. Her husband, if still alive, should not return and find his mission-station deserted, and himself in Burmah without a companion.

The subjoined account of Mrs. Judson’s experiences is in her own words:

“Mr. Hough, for some time past, has been desirous to have Mrs. Hough, myself, and his children go to Bengal. But I have ever felt resolved not to make any movement until I hear from Mr. Judson. Within a few days, however, some circumstances have occurred which have induced me to make preparations for a voyage. There is but one remaining ship in the river, and if an embargo is laid on English ships, it will be impossible for Mr. Judson (if he is yet alive) to return to this place. But the uncertainty of meeting him in Bengal, and the possibility of his arriving in my absence, cause me to make preparations with a heavy heart. Sometimes I feel inclined to remain here alone, and hazard the consequences. I should certainly conclude on this step, if any probability existed of Mr. Judson’s return. This mission has never appeared in so low a state as at the present time. It seems now entirely destroyed, as we all expect to embark for Bengal in a day or two. Alas! alas! how changed our prospects since Mr. Judson left us. How dark, how intricate the providence which now surrounds us! Yet it becomes us to be still, and know that He is God who has thus ordered our circumstances.

“July 14. Alone, my dear friends, in this great house, without an individual excepting my little girl and Burmans, I take my pen to relate the strange vicissitudes through which I have passed within a few days.

“On the 5th of this month I embarked with Mr. Hough and family for Bengal, having previously disposed of what I could not take with me. I had engaged Mr. Judson’s teacher to accompany me, that in case of meeting him in Bengal he could go on with his Burman studies. But the teacher, fearing the difficulties arising from his being a Burman, broke his engagement, and refused to go. My disinclination to proceed in the course commenced had increased to such a degree, that I was on the point of giving up the voyage myself; but my passage was paid, my baggage on board, and I knew not how to separate myself from the rest of the mission family. The vessel, however, was several days in going down the river; and when on the point of putting out to sea, the captain and officers ascertained she was in a dangerous state, in consequence of having been improperly loaded, and that she must be detained for a day or two at the place in which she then lay. I immediately resolved on giving up the voyage and returning to town. Accordingly the captain sent up a boat with me, and engaged to forward my baggage the next day. I reached town in the evening—spent the night at the house of the only remaining Englishman in the place, and to-day have come out to the mission-house, to the great joy of all the Burmans left on our premises. Mr. Hough and his family will proceed, and they kindly and affectionately urge my return. I know I am surrounded by dangers on every hand, and expect to see much anxiety and distress; but at present I am tranquil, and intend to make an effort to pursue my studies as formerly, and leave the event with God.”

After this gloomy episode the prospects of the mission began to brighten. Mr. Hough, indeed, had gone to Calcutta, taking the printing-press with him, so that for some time all the presswork of the mission had to be done there. But on September 19, 1818, Messrs. Colman and Wheelock, with their wives, arrived in Rangoon and joined the mission. Mr. Judson writes:

“We had, I can truly say, a most joyful meeting. You have never seen them, or it would be unnecessary to add that they are four lovely persons, in every sense of the word, and appear to have much of an humble, prayerful spirit. Such being their interesting appearance, we regret more deeply to find that the health of the brethren is so feeble. They have both had a slight return of bleeding at the lungs, an old complaint, to which they were subject in America. May the Lord graciously restore and preserve them.

“A few days after their arrival, I introduced them into the presence of the viceroy. He received us with marked attention, which, however, must be ascribed to the influence of a handsome present, which went before us. Though surrounded with many officers, he suspended all business for a time, examined the present, and condescended to make several inquiries. On being told that the new teachers desired to take refuge in his glory, and remain in Rangoon, he replied, ‘Let them stay, let them stay; and let your wife bring their wives that I may see them all.’ We then made our obeisance, and retired.”

The time had now come when Mr. Judson’s long-cherished desire to hold public worship among the Burmans in their own tongue was to be gratified. The little chapel, or zayat, had been built. It is thus described by Mrs. Judson:

“The zayat is situated thirty or forty rods from the mission-house, and in dimensions is twenty-seven by eighteen feet. It is raised four feet from the ground, and is divided into three parts. The first division is laid entirely open to the road, without doors, windows, or a partition in the front side, and takes up a third part of the whole building. It is made of bamboo and thatch, and is the place where Mr. Judson sits all the day long, and says to the passers-by, ‘Ho! every one that thirsteth,’ etc. The next and middle division is a large, airy room, with four doors and four windows, opening in opposite directions; made entirely of boards, and is whitewashed, to distinguish it from the other zayats around us.

“In this room we have public worship in Burman on the Sabbath; and in the middle of it I am now situated at my writing-table, while six of the male scholars are at one end, each with his torch and blackboard, over which he is industriously bending, and emitting the curious sounds of the language. The third and last division is only an entry-way, which opens into the garden leading to the mission-house. In this apartment all the women are seated, with their lights and blackboards, much in the same position and employment as the men.”

It will be seen from this that the zayat was not simply a church, but a religious school-house as well. It also afforded a convenient place of rendezvous where Mr. Judson could sit all the day long, attracting the attention of the passers-by, and often engaging them in religious conversation.

The following letter from Mr. Judson to the Corresponding Secretary relates to this, the first house of worship erected by American Baptists in Burmah:

“The prospect of the speedy departure of a vessel for Bengal reminds us of our unanswered letters. Brother Colman has nearly recovered his health, which suffered much on his first arrival. But brother Wheelock still remains in a low, and, I fear, declining state.

“My time, for the last few months, has been divided between reading Burman, writing some portions of Scripture, and other things preparatory to public worship, holding conversations on religion, and superintending the erection of a zayat (as the Burmans call it), or place of public resort, where we intend to spend much of our time, and where we hope to have stated worship, or, at least, to try the practicability of such an attempt under this Government.

“The peculiarly retired situation of the mission-house has long rendered the erection of such a building, or a change of residence, a very desirable measure. After much hesitation and perplexity about our duty, we were so fortunate as to procure, at a very moderate price, a piece of ground which is contiguous to the mission premises, and at the same time opens on a public road. The building is now going up, with such scanty materials and means as we can afford, or, rather, as we think you can afford. The whole concern will cost about two hundred dollars. And should this zayat prove to be a Christian meeting-house, the first erected in this land of atheists, for the worship of God—a house where Burmans, who now deny the very existence of Deity, shall assemble to adore the majesty of heaven, and to sing with hearts of devotion the praises of the incarnate Saviour——But the thought seems too great to be realized. Can this darkness be removed? Can these dry bones live? On Thee, Jesus, all our hopes depend. In Thee all power is vested, even power to make sinful creatures instrumental in enlightening the heathen.

“You want to hear of some poor benighted Burman brought to taste that the Lord is gracious; but O, not more than I want to speak of it. I hope, I do hope, my dear sir, that we shall both one day be gratified.”

On April 4, 1819, even before the zayat was completed, the first public service was held. Mr. Judson was thirty-one years old, and had been in Rangoon nearly six years before he ventured to preach to a Burman audience in their own tongue. This marks an era in the history of the Burman mission; for it is a noteworthy fact that the institution of public worship was soon followed by the first in a series of conversions.

It was on June 27, 1819, about seven years and four months after Mr. Judson left America, and about six years after his arrival in Rangoon, that he was permitted to baptize the first Burman convert, Moung Nau. The secret of that sublime faith which enabled him to endure without a misgiving so many long, weary years of sowing without the joy of seeing a single blade of grain, may be learned from the following lines, which he wrote in pencil on the inner cover of a book which he was using in the compilation of the Burman dictionary:

The following extracts from his journal, with a letter of Mrs. Judson’s, afford a vivid description of the commencement of public worship among the Burmans, and the progress of that religious movement which culminated in the baptism of the first three converts, Moung Nau, Moung Byaa, and Moung Thahlah:

“April 4, 1819. My close application to the Burman dictionary during the year 1817, and my subsequent loss of nearly a year in the unsuccessful attempt to visit Chittagong, have occasioned a long interruption in my journal. Since my return to Rangoon, the little I have to say I have communicated in letters. With this day, a new, and I hope important, era in the mission, I resume the journal.

“To-day, the building of the zayat being sufficiently advanced for the purpose, I called together a few people that live around us, and commenced public worship in the Burman language. I say commenced, for, though I have frequently read and discoursed to the natives, I have never before conducted a course of exercises which deserved the name of public worship, according to the usual acceptation of that phrase among Christians; and though I began to preach the Gospel as soon as I could speak intelligibly, I have thought it hardly becoming to apply the term preaching, since it has acquired an appropriate meaning in modern use, to my imperfect, desultory exhortations and conversations. But I hope, though with fear and trembling, that I have now commenced a course of public worship and regular preaching. This would have taken place just a year ago, had I returned to Rangoon as I expected, and still earlier, had I not been under a Government where I thought it prudent to gain a considerable acquaintance with the language before commencing public operations, lest I should be unable properly to vindicate my conduct when called to a judicial account.

“The congregation to-day consisted of fifteen persons only, besides children. Much disorder and inattention prevailed, most of them not having been accustomed to attend Burman worship. May the Lord grant His blessing on attempts made in great weakness and under great disadvantages; and all the glory will be His.

“April 25. Lord’s day. Yesterday we completed the zayat, set up the front stairs, and laid open the entrance from the road. This morning I took my seat on the floor in the open porch, under some solemn impression of the great responsibility attached to my new mode of life.

“In the forenoon the members of the mission family came over to have our usual worship, having concluded to hold it for a few Sundays in the zayat, rather than in the house, in order to give the Burmans some idea of the place.

“In the afternoon our people came together, and several came in from the road, so that we had an assembly of between twenty-five and thirty, besides children. At the close of the service I distributed several tracts to the strangers.

“April 28. Nothing interesting through the day. At night, encountered a bitter opposer; he had visited Bengal, and some foe to missions had poisoned his mind; he manifested a most virulent spirit. I felt that he would most gladly be foremost in destroying us. But through divine grace I was enabled to treat him with meekness and gentleness, and he finally left me politely. He appeared to be rich, and had several followers. In the evening there were some hopeful appearances in Mrs. Judson’s female meeting—a meeting which she has recommenced since public worship has been set up in the zayat.

“April 29. A precious case has just occurred. A young man of twenty-four, by name Moung Koo, happened to stroll in last Sunday, and was present at worship. He appeared to be rather wild and noisy, though his manners were respectful. He took a tract, and went away. This morning he made his appearance again, and has been with me about two hours. I have been enabled, through divine assistance, to give him a great deal of truth, and especially to expatiate with some feeling on the love and sufferings of the Saviour. The truth seems to have taken hold of his mind.

“April 30. I was agreeably surprised in the morning to see the young man of yesterday come again so soon. He stayed all the forenoon, and seemed desirous of hearing as much as possible about religion. Several others came and went. A very busy day; hardly time to prepare these minutes to be forwarded by a vessel which leaves this port for Bengal early to-morrow morning.

“May 1, 1819. Burman day of worship; of course many visitors; among the rest, Moung Nau, a man who was with me several hours yesterday; but, from his silence and reserve, excited little attention or hope. To-day, however, I begin to think better of him. Moung Koo came again at night, and appeared pretty well. These two men, with the two persons from Kambet, of the 27th, I call the fruits of the week. But let us see who of them will remember the day of worship.

“May 2. Lord’s day. About three o’clock the quiet and modest Moung Nau came in and took his usual place. For the others we looked in vain. About thirty present at worship. Very few paid much attention, or probably received any benefit.

“May 3. Among the visitors of to-day was a respectable man, formerly an officer, now a merchant, resident at Little Bridge, a village contiguous to Kambet. After long and various conversation, in which he paid close and respectful attention, he said that he was a person not a little versed in Burman literature, but that he now saw he had erred in all; he regretted that he had lived two years in the neighborhood without knowing me; to-day was an auspicious day; he wished to become my disciple, would read my writings with attention, and come as often as possible.

“May 5. Moung Nau has been with me several hours. I begin to think that the grace of God has reached his heart. He expresses sentiments of repentance for his sins, and faith in the Saviour. The substance of his profession is, that from the darknesses, and uncleannesses, and sins of his whole life, he has found no other Saviour but Jesus Christ; nowhere else can he look for salvation; and therefore he proposes to adhere to Christ, and worship Him all his life long.

“It seems almost too much to believe that God has begun to manifest His grace to the Burmans; but this day I could not resist the delightful conviction that this is really the case. Praise and glory be to His name forevermore. Amen.

“May 6. Moung Nau was again with me a great part of the day. He appears to be slowly growing in religious knowledge, and manifests a teachable, humble spirit, ready to believe all that Christ has said, and obey all that He has commanded. He is thirty-five years old; no family, middling abilities, quite poor, obliged to work for his living, and therefore his coming, day after day, to hear the truth, affords stronger evidence that it has taken hold of his mind. May the Lord graciously lead his dark mind into all the truth, and cause him to cleave inviolably to the blessed Saviour.

“May 8. Burman day of worship. Thronged with visitors through the day. Had more or less company, without intermission, for about eight hours. Several heard much of the Gospel, and engaged to come again. Moung Nau was with me a great part of the day, and assisted me much in explaining things to new-comers.

“May 9. Lord’s day. Moung Shwaa Oo came in the morning, and stayed through the whole day. Only two or three of all I conversed with yesterday came again. Had, however, an assembly of thirty. After worship, some warm disputation. I begin to feel that the Burmans can not stand before the truth. In the course of the conversation, Moung Nau declared himself a disciple of Christ, in presence of a considerable number; and even Moung Shwaa Oo appeared to incline the same way.

“May 10. Early in the morning, Moung Nau came to take leave, being obliged to go to a distance after timber, his usual occupation. I took him alone and prayed with him, and gave him a written prayer to help him in his private devotion.

“Heard much to-day of the danger of introducing a new religion. All agreed in opinion that the king would cut off all who embraced it, being a king who could not bear that his subjects should differ in sentiment from himself; and who has, for a long time, persecuted the friends of the established religion of the empire, because they would not sanction all his innovations. Those who seemed most favorably disposed whispered me that I had better not stay in Rangoon and talk to common people, but go directly to the ‘lord of life and death.’ If he approved of the religion, it would spread rapidly; but, in the present state of things, nobody would dare to prosecute their inquiries, with the fear of the king before their eyes. They brought forward the case of the Kolans, a sect of Burmans who have been proscribed and put to death under several reigns. I tried to set them right in some points, and encourage them to trust in the care of an almighty Saviour; but they speak low and look around fearfully when they mention the name of the ‘owner of the sword.’

“May 13. Had company all day, without intermission. About noon, Moung Nau came in, having given up his journey on account of the unfaithfulness of his employer. His behavior and conversation were very satisfactory. He regrets the want of a believing associate, but declares his determination of adhering to Christ, though no Burman should ever join him.

“May 15. Moung Nau has been with me all day, as well as yesterday. He is anxious to be received into our company, and thinks it a great privilege to be the first among the Burmans in professing the religion of Jesus Christ. He has been told plainly that he has nothing to expect in this world but persecution, and perhaps death; but he thinks it better to die for Christ, and be happy hereafter, than to live a few days and be forever wretched. All the members of the mission have, at different times, conversed with him, and are satisfied that a work of grace is begun in his heart.

“May 17. Moung Nau has received an advantageous offer to go to Ava, in the employ of a boat-owner. We were afraid to dissuade him from accepting, as he has no way of getting a living, and equally unwilling to have him absent several months. At length we advised him not to go, and he at once acquiesced.

“May 22. We have taken Moung Nau to live with us, intending to employ him in copying some small things for distribution which we can not get printed at present, and allow him ten ticals a month. Our principal object, however, is to keep him in the way of instruction, hoping that he will ultimately be useful to his countrymen.

“At night, Moung A came the second time, and appeared anxious to know the way of salvation. But I am grieved to find that he is going away on business to-morrow morning, and will be absent a long time.

“June 6. Lord’s day. Had two interesting visitors. They were present at worship, and stayed till dark—certain they should come again—but will they?

“After partaking of the Lord’s supper in the evening, we read and considered the following letter of Moung Nau, which he wrote of his own accord:

“‘I, Moung Nau, the constant recipient of your excellent favor, approach your feet. Whereas my Lord’s three have come to the country of Burmah,—not for the purposes of trade, but to preach the religion of Jesus Christ, the Son of the eternal God,—I, having heard and understood, am, with a joyful mind, filled with love.

“‘I believe that the divine Son, Jesus Christ, suffered death, in the place of men, to atone for their sins. Like a heavy-laden man, I feel my sins are very many. The punishment of my sins I deserve to suffer. Since it is so, do you, sirs, consider that I, taking refuge in the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ, and receiving baptism, in order to become His disciple, shall dwell one with yourselves, a band of brothers, in the happiness of heaven, and therefore grant me the ordinance of baptism. It is through the grace of Jesus Christ that you, sirs, have come by ship from one country and continent to another, and that we have met together. I pray my Lord’s three that a suitable day may be appointed, and that I may receive the ordinance of baptism.

“‘Moreover, as it is only since I have met with you, sirs, that I have known about the eternal God, I venture to pray that you will still unfold to me the religion of God, that my old disposition may be destroyed, and my new disposition improved.’

“We have all, for some time, been satisfied concerning the reality of his religion, and therefore voted to receive him into church fellowship, on his being baptized, and proposed next Sunday for administering the ordinance.

“June 20. Lord’s day. For the last fortnight, have had but little company at the zayat, owing probably to the rains, which have now fully set in. The town has also been in great confusion in prospect of the viceroy’s departure for Ava. We have been called on to pay another tax of fifteen ticals—got off with paying half. Have had several other molestations from petty officers of Government. Concluded to postpone Moung Nau’s baptism till the viceroy be fairly off.

“June 21. The town is in the utmost anxiety and alarm. Order after order has reached our viceroy to hasten his return to Ava, with all the troops under arms. Great news are whispered. Some say there is a rebellion; some say the king is sick, some that he is dead. But none dare to say this plainly. It would be a crime of the first magnitude; for the ‘lord of land and water’ is called immortal. The eldest son of his eldest son (his father being dead) has long been declared the heir of the crown; but he has two very powerful uncles, who, it is supposed, will contest his right; and in all probability the whole country will soon be a scene of anarchy and civil war.

“June 22. Out all the morning, listening for news, uncertain whether a day or an hour will not plunge us into the greatest distress. The whole place is sitting in sullen silence, expecting an explosion. About 10 o’clock, a royal dispatch-boat pulls up to the shore. An imperial mandate is produced. The crowds make way for the sacred messengers, and follow them to the high court, where the authorities of the place are assembled. Listen ye: The immortal king, wearied, it would seem, with the fatigues of royalty, has gone up to amuse himself in the celestial regions. His grandson, the heir-apparent, is seated on the throne. The young monarch enjoins on all to remain quiet, and wait his imperial orders.

“It appears that the Prince of Toung Oo, one of his uncles, has been executed, with his family and adherents, and the Prince of Pyee placed in confinement. There has probably been bloody work; but it seems, from what has transpired, that the business has been settled so expeditiously that the distant provinces will not feel the shock.

“June 23. Had some encouraging conversation with Moung Thah-lah, a young man who has been living in our yard several months. He has lately made me several visits at the zayat, and appeared very thoughtful and teachable. To-day, on being asked the state of his mind, he replied, with some feeling, that he and all men were sinners, and exposed to future punishment; that according to the Buddhist system, there was no way of pardon; but that according to the religion which I taught, there was not only a way of pardon but a way of enjoying endless happiness in heaven; and that, therefore, he wanted to believe in Christ. I stated to him, as usual, that he must think much on the love of Christ, and pray to God for an enlightened and loving heart, and then gave him a form of prayer suited to his case.

“In the female evening meeting, his sister, Ma Baik, whose husband also lives in our yard, manifested considerable feeling, especially when Mrs. Judson prayed with her alone, and expressed a strong desire to obtain an interest in the Saviour.

“June 27. Lord’s day. There were several strangers present at worship. After the usual course, I called Moung Nau before me, read and commented on an appropriate portion of Scripture, asked him several questions concerning his faith, hope, and love, and made the baptismal prayer, having concluded to have all the preparatory exercises done in the zayat. We then proceeded to a large pond in the vicinity, the bank of which is graced with an enormous image of Gaudama, and there administered baptism to the first Burman convert. O, may it prove the beginning of a series of baptisms in the Burman empire which shall continue in uninterrupted succession to the end of time!

“July 4. Lord’s day. We have had the pleasure of sitting down, for the first time, to the Lord’s table with a converted Burman; and it was my privilege—a privilege to which I have been looking forward with desire for many years—to administer the Lord’s supper in two languages. And now let me, in haste, close my journal for transmission to the Board.”

“In my last, I mentioned Mr. Judson’s commencing public preaching in a building which we had erected for that purpose, and which you will in future know by the name zayat. Little did I think, when I last wrote, that I should so soon have the joyful intelligence to communicate that one Burman has embraced the Christian religion, and given good evidence of being a true disciple of the dear Redeemer. This event, this single trophy of victorious grace, has filled our hearts with sensations hardly to be conceived by Christians in Christian countries. This event has convinced us that God can and does operate on the minds of the most dark and ignorant, and that He makes His own truths, His own word, the instrument of operation. It serves to encourage us to hope that the Lord has other chosen ones in this place.”

“July 10. Some pleasant conversation with Moung Thah-lah. Seldom a day passes in which he does not spend an hour or two with me or Moung Nau. This man is rather superior to the common Burmans in point of abilities, and, though not very learned, he has read much more than the generality. He is much superior to any one resident on our premises, and, if converted, would be a valuable acquisition to the mission.

“July 12. Considerable company all day. Moung E, whose name I have not yet mentioned, though he has made several visits, broke through his usual reserve, and acknowledged his love for this religion, and thought he should become a disciple, and not return to Tavoy, whence he lately came on some Government business. Moung Thah-lah appears to be really earnest in his desires to become a disciple of Christ.

“July 19. Had some particular conversation with Moung Thah-lah on his spiritual state. He says that the more he reads and hears of the Christian religion, the more inclined he becomes to believe and embrace it, but fears that his weakness and sinfulness incapacitate him for keeping its holy precepts as it becomes a professing disciple.

“July 29. Finished revising the tract for a new edition. Have considerably enlarged it, particularly by adding several prayers; so that it now stands, ‘A View of the Christian Religion, in four Parts, Historical, Practical, Preceptive, and Devotional.’ We intend sending the manuscript to Serampore, with a request to brother Hough that he will get it printed in a large edition of five thousand copies. The first edition, of one thousand, is nearly exhausted. Such, indeed, is the demand for it since the opening of the zayat, that we should have given away all the copies long ago, had we not been doubtful about a fresh supply.

“August 7. Brother Wheelock embarked for Bengal, but in so low a state that we fear the voyage, instead of being beneficial, will tend to shorten his life.

“August 8. Lord’s day. Several strangers present at worship; a larger assembly than usual.

“August 21. Have not lately mentioned Moung Thah-lah, though he has continued to visit me regularly. To-day I had a conversation with him, that almost settled my mind that he is really a renewed man. He, however, thinks he is not, because he finds his heart so depraved that he can not perfectly keep the pure commands of Christ.

“August 22. Lord’s day. After worship, had another conversation with Moung Thah-lah. He hopes that he is a disciple of Jesus Christ in heart, but wants to know whether a profession of religion is indispensable to salvation. He fears the persecution that may hereafter come on those who forsake the established religion of the empire. I gave him such explanation as I thought suitable, and left him with the solemn consideration, that unless he loved Christ above his own life, he did not love Him sincerely, and ought not to hope that He is interested in his redemption.

“August 24. Another conversation with Moung Thah-lah, which at length forces me to admit the conviction that he is a real convert; and I venture to set him down the second disciple of Christ among the Burmans. He appears to have all the characteristics of a new-born soul, and though rather timid in regard to an open profession, has, I feel satisfied, that love to Christ which will increase and bring him forward in due time.

“August 31. A man, by name Moung Ing, has visited the zayat five or six days in succession. At first, a variety of other company prevented my attending much to him, and he conversed chiefly with Moung Nau, and employed himself in reading Matthew. He once told Moung Nau that he had long been looking after the true religion, and was ready to wish that he had been born a brute, rather than to die in delusion, and go to hell. Sunday I conversed with him largely, and his attention during worship was very close and solemn. To-day he has made me half inclined to believe that a work of grace is begun in his soul. He says that he formerly had some idea of an eternal God from his mother, who was christened a Roman Catholic, in consequence of her connection with a foreigner; but that the idea was never rooted in his mind until he fell in with the zayat. Within a few days he has begun to pray to this God. He is quite sensible of his sins, and of the utter inefficacy of the Buddhist religion, but is yet in the dark concerning the way of salvation, and says that he wants to know more of Christ, that he may love Him more. Lord Jesus, give him the saving knowledge of Thine adorable self!

“September 1. Moung Thah-lah continues to express similar sentiments to those already noted; is still afraid of persecution and death, but professes to be laboring to obtain that love to Christ, and faith in Him, which will raise him above the fear of man; and particularly requests us to pray that he may obtain these graces.

“September 3. A great crowd of company through the whole day, the teacher Moung Shwa-gnong, from ten o’clock till quite dark, with several of his adherents. He is a complete Proteus in religion, and I never know where to find him. We went over a vast deal of ground, and ended where we began, in apparent incredulity. After his adherents, however, were all gone, he conversed with some feeling; owned that he knew nothing, and wished me to instruct him; and when he departed, he prostrated himself, and performed the sheeko—an act of homage which a Burman never performs but to an acknowledged superior.

“After he was gone, Moung Ing, who has been listening all day, followed me home to the house, being invited to stay with Moung Nau through the night. We conversed all the evening, and his expressions have satisfied us all that he is one of God’s chosen people. His exercises have been of a much stronger character than those of the others, and he expresses himself in the most decided manner. He desires to become a disciple in profession, as well as to be in Christ, and declares his readiness to suffer persecution and death for the love of Christ. When I stated the danger to which he was exposing himself, and asked him whether he loved Christ better than his own life, he replied, very deliberately and solemnly, ‘When I meditate on this religion, I know not what it is to love my own life.’ Thus the poor fisherman, Moung Ing, is taken, while the learned teacher, Moung Shwa-gnong, is left.

“September 5. Lord’s day. A very dull day—not one stranger present at worship. In the evening Moung Thah-lah was a spectator of our partaking of the Lord’s supper. Moung Ing could not be present. He lives at some distance, and is getting ready to go to sea, pursuant to his purpose before he became acquainted with us. We have endeavored to dissuade him from going, and to keep him near us; but we are afraid that his circumstances will not allow him to comply with our advice and his own inclinations.

“September 6. Spent the evening in conversing with Moung Byaa, a man who, with his family, has lived near us for some time, a regular attendant on worship, an indefatigable scholar in the evening-school, where he has learned to read, though fifty years old, and a remarkably moral character. In my last conversation, some time ago, he appeared to be a thorough legalist, relying solely on his good works, but yet sincerely desirous of knowing and embracing the truth. The greater part of the evening was spent in discussing his erroneous views; his mind seemed so dark and dull of apprehension, that I was almost discouraged. Toward the close, however, he seemed to obtain some evangelical discoveries, and to receive the humbling truths of the Gospel in a manner which encourages us to hope that the Spirit of God has begun to teach him. The occasion of this conversation was my hearing that he said that he intended to become a Christian, and be baptized with Moung Thah-lah. He accordingly professes a full belief in the eternal God and His Son Jesus Christ.

“September 7. Am grieved that Moung Ing comes no more. Presume he has gone off, contrary to our advice, and was reluctant to take leave of us under such circumstances.

“September 10. Surprised by a visit from Moung Ing. It appears that he has been confined at work on board the vessel in which he is engaged, and has not been ashore for several days. As the vessel is certainly going to-morrow, he got leave of absence for a short time, and improved it in running out to the zayat. I was exceedingly glad, as it afforded me an opportunity of giving him some parting instructions, and praying with him alone. He appears very well indeed. He is quite distressed that he has so far engaged himself, and appears desirous of getting off, and returning to us, if possible; but I have very little hope of his succeeding. I believe, however, that he is a real Christian, and that, whenever he dies, his immortal soul will be safe, and that he will praise God forever for his transient acquaintance with us. The Lord go with him and keep him.

“September 11. Moung Shwa-gnong has been with me all day. It appears that he accidentally obtained the idea of an eternal Being about eight years ago; and it has been floating about in his mind, and disturbing his Buddhistic ideas ever since. When he heard of us, which was through one of his adherents, to whom I had given a tract, this idea received considerable confirmation; and to-day he has fully admitted the truth of this first grand principle. The latter part of the day we were chiefly employed in discussing the possibility and necessity of a divine revelation, and the evidence which proves that the writings of the apostles of Jesus contain that revelation; and I think I may say that he is half inclined to admit all this. He is certainly a most interesting case. The way seems to be prepared in his mind for the special operation of divine grace. Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove!

“His conversion seems peculiarly desirable, on account of his superior talents and extensive acquaintance with Burmese and Pali literature. He is the most powerful reasoner I have yet met with in this country, excepting my old teacher, Oo Oungmen (now dead), and he is not at all inferior to him.

“September 26. Lord’s day. Moung Shwa-gnong came, with several adherents. Some warm conversation before worship, but nothing personal. During worship, discoursed from ‘Fear not them that kill the body,’ etc. My discourse was chiefly intended for Moung Thah-lah and Moung Byaa; but the latter was absent on account of sickness. After worship the teacher immediately departed with his people, without even saying a word. Fear he has taken some offence.

“October 5. Received a visit from the teacher. My hopes of his conversion are very low. He is settling down in Deism, and evidently avoids all conversation of a personal nature.

“October 6. Conversation with Moung Thah-lah and Moung Byaa, which revives my hopes of their coming forward before long. They are both growing in religious knowledge, and give evidence of being in the exercise of gracious feelings.

“October 7. Was rejoiced in the morning to see the teacher, Moung Shwa-gnong, come again so soon. We spent the whole day together, uninterrupted by other company. In the forenoon, he was as crabbed as possible; sometimes a Berkeleian, sometimes a Humeite or complete skeptic. But in the afternoon he got to be more reasonable, and before he left he obtained a more complete idea of the atonement than I have commonly been able to communicate to a Burman. He exclaimed, ‘That is suitable; that is as it should be,’ etc. But whether this conviction resulted from a mere philosophic view of the propriety and adaptedness of the way of salvation through Jesus Christ, or from the gracious operations of the Holy Spirit, time must discover. I hardly venture to hope the latter. O Lord, the work is Thine! O come, Holy Spirit!

“October 23. Have for some days been wondering at the long absence of the teacher. To-day heard a report that he has been summoned by the viceroy to give an account of his heretical sentiments.

“At night Moung Thah-lah and Moung Byaa presented a paper, professing their faith in Jesus Christ, and requesting to be baptized, but in private. We spent some time with them. They appear to have experienced divine grace; but we advised them, as they had so little love to Christ as not to dare to die for His cause, to wait and reconsider the matter.

“October 29. The teacher came again, after an interval of three weeks; but he appears to be quite another man. He has not been personally summoned, as we heard; but, through the instigation of the Mangen teacher, he was mentioned before the viceroy as having renounced the religion of the country. The viceroy gave no decisive order, but merely said, ‘Inquire further about him.’ This reached the ears of Moung Shwa-gnong; and he directly went to the Mangen teacher, and, I suppose, apologized, and explained, and flattered. He denies that he really recanted, and I hope he did not; but he is evidently falling off from the investigation of the Christian religion. He made but a short visit, and took leave as soon as he could decently.

“November 1. One of the greatest festivals in the year. The crowds are truly immense and overwhelming. We vacated the zayat, as we have several days of late, beginning to query whether it is prudent to go on boldly in proclaiming a new religion, at the hazard of incensing the Government, and drawing down such persecution as may deter all who know us from any inquiry.

“November 6. The two candidates for baptism again presented their urgent petition that they might be baptized, not absolutely in private, but about sunset, away from public observation. We spent some hours in again discussing the subject with them and with one another. We felt satisfied that they were humble disciples of Jesus, and were desirous of receiving this ordinance purely out of regard to His command and their own spiritual welfare; we felt that we were all equally exposed to danger, and needed a spirit of mutual candor, and forbearance, and sympathy; we were convinced that they were influenced rather by desires of avoiding unnecessary exposure than by that sinful fear which would plunge them into apostasy in the hour of trial; and when they assured us that, if actually brought before Government, they could not think of denying their Saviour, we could not conscientiously refuse their request, and therefore agreed to have them baptized to-morrow at sunset. The following is a literal translation of the paper presented this evening:

“‘Moung Byaa and Moung Thah-lah venture to address the two teachers: Though the country of Burmah is very far distant from the country of America, yet the teachers, coming by ship the long way of six months, have arrived at this far distant country of Burmah, and town of Rangoon, and proclaimed the propitious news by means of which we, having become acquainted with the religion, know that there is an eternal God in heaven, and that there is a divine Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, deserving of the highest love; and we know that the Lord Jesus Christ, the divine Son, endured, on account of all His disciples, sufferings and death, even severe sufferings on a cross, in their stead. On account of our sins, we were like persons laden with a very heavy burden. On account of our many sins, we found no deliverance, no place of refuge, and our minds were distressed. In this state remaining, the two teachers produced the sacred system from the Scriptures, and we became informed of the existence of the one God, and of the facts that the divine Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, redeemed with His sacred life all who love and trust in Him, and, in order to save His disciples from hell, suffered death in their stead. Now we know that we have sinned against the sacred One, and we know, assuredly, that if we become disciples of the divine Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, we shall be saved from the hell which we deserve. We desire to become disciples, and with the two teachers, like children born of the same mother, to worship the true God, and observe the true religion.

“‘On searching in the Scriptures for ancient rules and customs, it does not appear that John and other baptizers administered baptism on any particular time, or day, or hour. We, therefore, venture to beg of the two teachers, that they will grant that on the 6th day of the wane of the Tanzoungmong moon (November 7), at six o’clock at night, we may this once receive baptism at their hands.’

“November 7. Lord’s day. We had worship as usual, and the people dispersed. About half an hour before sunset, the two candidates came to the zayat, accompanied by three or four of their friends; and after a short prayer, we proceeded to the spot where Moung Nau was formerly baptized. The sun was not allowed to look upon the humble, timid profession. No wondering crowd crowned the overshadowing hill. No hymn of praise expressed the exultant feelings of joyous hearts. Stillness and solemnity pervaded the scene. We felt, on the banks of the water, as a little, feeble, solitary band. But perhaps some hovering angels took note of the event with more interest than they witnessed the late coronation; perhaps Jesus looked down on us, pitied and forgave our weaknesses, and marked us for His own; perhaps, if we deny Him not, He will acknowledge us, another day, more publicly than we venture at present to acknowledge Him.

“In the evening we all united in commemorating the dying love of our Redeemer; and I trust we enjoyed a little of His gracious presence in the midst of us.

“November 10. This evening is to be marked as the date of the first Burman prayer-meeting that was ever held. None present but myself and the three converts. Two of them made a little beginning—such as must be expected from the first essay of converted heathens. We agreed to meet for this purpose every Tuesday and Friday evening, immediately after family worship, which in the evening has for some time been conducted in Burman and English, and which these people, and occasionally some others, have attended.

“November 14. Lord’s day. Have been much gratified to find that this evening the THREE CONVERTS REPAIRED TO THE ZAYAT, AND HELD A PRAYER-MEETING OF THEIR OWN ACCORD.

“December 4. Another visit from Moung Shwa-gnong. After several hours spent in metaphysical cavils, he owned that he did not believe anything he had said, and had only been trying me and the religion, being determined to embrace nothing but what he found unobjectionable and impregnable. ‘What,’ said he, ‘do you think that I would pay you the least attention if I found you could not answer all my questions, and solve all my difficulties?’ He then proceeded to say, that he really believed in God, His Son Jesus Christ, the atonement, etc. Said I, knowing his deistical weakness, ‘Do you believe all that is contained in the book of Matthew, that I have given you? In particular, do you believe that the Son of God died on a cross?’ ‘Ah,’ replied he, ‘you have caught me now. I believe that He suffered death, but I can not admit that He suffered the shameful death of the cross.’ ‘Therefore,’ said I, ‘you are not a disciple of Christ. A true disciple inquires not whether a fact is agreeable to his own reason, but whether it is in the book. His pride has yielded to the divine testimony. Teacher, your pride is still unbroken. Break down your pride, and yield to the word of God.’ He stopped and thought. ‘As you utter those words,’ said he, ‘I see my error. I have been trusting in my own reason, not in the word of God.’ Some interruption now occurred. When we were again alone, he said, ‘This day is different from all the days on which I have visited you. I see my error in trusting in my own reason; and I now believe the crucifixion of Christ, because it is contained in the Scripture.’ Some time after, speaking of the uncertainty of life, he said he thought he should not be lost, though he died suddenly. Why? ‘Because I love Jesus Christ.’ ‘Do you really love Him?’ ‘No one that really knows Him can help loving Him.’ And so he departed.”

Just at this most interesting period, when three Burmans had been baptized and many others were inquiring into the new religion, the black cloud of persecution gathered over the heads of these young converts and their Christian teachers.

The viceroy of Rangoon regarded with an unfavorable eye this attempt to introduce a new religion. When informed that a prominent Burman teacher was about to renounce the religion of the empire, he uttered the ominous sentence: “Inquire further.” These words scattered the group of inquirers that had gathered about Mr. Judson as quickly as the lifted hand disperses a school of fish. The new converts, indeed, stood firm even under the peril of the confiscation of their goods, and the risk of torture and death; but the work had come to a standstill. The inhabitants of Rangoon did not even dare to visit the foreign teacher. In these circumstances the boldest measure seemed to Mr. Judson the wisest. He determined to beard the lion in his lair. He resolved to go directly to Ava, the capital of Burmah, and lay the whole matter at the feet of the emperor. If he could gain from the Burman monarch permission to propagate the Christian religion among his subjects, then he would be at once exempt from the annoyance and persecution inflicted by provincial underlings. If, on the other hand, he should fail, matters could not be made any worse, as news of this religious movement would soon get to the ears of the king. The nature of the threatening persecution, and the reasons for going to Ava, may be learned from Mr. Judson’s letters and journals:

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