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 MEMOIR 
 
 SARAH B. JUDSON, 
 
 MEMBER OF THE 
 
 ission to 
 
 JForestct. 
 
 THIRD THOUSAND. 
 
 NB W-TORK: 
 L.COLBY AND COMPANY, 
 
 122 NASSAU-STREET. 
 
 - 1848.
 
 ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 
 1848, by 
 
 L. COLBY AND COMPANY, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United 
 States, for the Southern District of New-York.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PASS. 
 
 PREFACE 3 
 
 THE SUBJECT 5 
 
 CHAPTER I. Early Days 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. A New Life 18 
 
 CHAPTER III. The Consecration 30 
 
 CHAPTER IV. Contrasts 46 
 
 CHAPTER V. Maulmain 62 
 
 CHAPTER VI. Tavoy 74 
 
 CHAPTER VIL Little Sarah 86 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. The Kevolt 96 
 
 CHAPTER IX. Withering and Watching 114 
 
 CHAPTER X. "Death in the Jungle" 124 
 
 CHAPTER XI The Female Missionary 147 
 
 CHAPTER XII. A New Home 172 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. The Mother and Child 187 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. Trial on Trial 207 
 
 CHAPTER XV. The Christian's Death 232 
 
 2030024
 
 PIIEFACE. 
 
 IT has occurred to me, in glancing over the little 
 narrative I have prepared, that those friends of Mrs. 
 Judson who have kindly furnished copies of her 
 verses, may be disappointed at seeing so few of 
 them selected for use. Readers of another class 
 will regret that more of the minute particulars of 
 her missionary-life are not given ; as, the precise 
 number of schools in which she was at different 
 times engaged, her efforts for individual conversion, 
 &c. &c. Others again, will recollect the letters 
 which were so interesting to them, and, forgetting 
 that very few can read them with their eyes and 
 hearts, will wonder that such pleasant memorials 
 of her they loved should not be placed within the 
 reach of all. 
 
 To each of these I would reply, that in taking a 
 view of her whole life, my first aim has been to 
 preserve the nice balance, the faultless symmetry 
 of her character ; to present her as she appeared 
 under all circumstances the Woman and the 
 Christian. And, in the second place, I have 
 thought it not amiss to make some sacrifices to 
 brevity. She had a poetic eye and heart a ge- 
 nial love for the flowers, the streams, the stars, the 
 beautiful in nature and whatever is pure and ele- 
 vated in man but she was not a mere poetess. 
 As a Christian, she was most ardently attached to
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 the service which occupied so large a portion of 
 her life ; but it would be unjust to represent her 
 in the light of a mere missionary. If she had kept 
 a journal, however, many interesting circumstances, 
 now buried in the grave with her, would doubtless 
 have been elicited; and her missionary course 
 might have been more distinctly traced. 
 
 The peculiar character of her letters has been 
 mentioned elsewhere ; but in recurring to them here, 
 it may be proper to remark, that names and dates 
 have been usually omitted, because the quotations 
 are so short and frequent that their insertion would 
 give the page the air of a chronological table. For 
 brevity's sake, I have taken the liberty, in two or 
 three instances, of incorporating a quotation from 
 one letter with some sentence from another on the 
 same subject; and have sometimes dropped a 
 clause having no direct bearing on the point which 
 I wished to elucidate. Entire letters, however, 
 stand precisely as she wrote them. 
 
 Yet another reason may be added for having in- 
 troduced her poems so sparingly. Unfinished as 
 they were, they did not meet the approval of her 
 own cultivated taste ; and, after she left America, 
 none were ever published by her permission. My 
 selections have usually been made with reference 
 to some circumstance in her life ; and, among the 
 various copies of these in my possession, I have of 
 course preferred that which seemed in my own 
 judgment the best. 
 
 Rangoon, June 1st, 1847.
 
 " SARAH BOARDMAN JTJDSON, was torn at Alstead, in 
 the State of New- Hampshire, Nov. 4, 1803. She -was 
 the eldest child of Ralph and Abiah Hall, -who still 
 survive her, and at present reside in Skaneateles, in. 
 the State of New- York. While Sarah was "but a 
 child, her parents removed from Alstead to Danvers, 
 and subsequently to Salem, in the State of Massa- 
 chusetts. In the latter place she received her edu- 
 cation and continued to reside, until she was married 
 to the Rev. George Dana Boardman, July 4, 1825, 
 with whom she embarked the same month for the 
 East Indies, to join the American missionaries in 
 Burmah. After residing some time at Calcutta and 
 Maulmain, they settled in Tavoy, April 1, 1828. 
 During her residence in Calcutta and Tavoy she had 
 three children, of whom one only, George Dana 
 Boardman, Jr., "born August 18, 1828, survives her. 
 She lost her husband Feb. 11, 1831, and was married 
 again to Adoniram Judson, of Maulmain, April 10, 
 1834. At Maulmain she "became the mother of eight
 
 6 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 children, of whom five survive her. After tlie "birth 
 of her last child, in Dec., 1844, she -was attacked with 
 chronic diarrhoea, from -which she had suffered 
 much in the early part of her missionary life. When 
 in the progress of the disease, it "became evident that 
 nothing "but a long voyage and an entire change of 
 climate could save her life, she embarked with her 
 hus"band and three elder children for America, April 
 26, 1845. The voyage was at first attended with 
 encouraging results, "but finally proved unavailing ; 
 and she departed this life on ship-hoard, in the port 
 of St. Helena, Sept. 1, 1846." 
 
 BAPTIST MISSIONARY MAGAZINE.
 
 Chapter I. EARLY DAY'S. 
 
 ' Well, let it "be, through weal and woe, 
 Thou know'st not now4;hy future range , 
 
 Life is a motley, shifting^show, 
 
 And thou a thing of hope and change." 
 
 Joanjia Baillie. 
 
 HERE are many persons yet living, 
 that have a distinct remembrance 
 of a fair young girl, who years ago 
 had her home in the pleasant town 
 of Salem, Massachusetts. She came thither, 
 (to use her own pretty words, penned in early 
 childhood,) from among " beautiful groves, or- 
 chards filled with fruit trees, and gently gliding 
 streams ;" and she expresses, in the same con- 
 nection, some dissatisfaction with exchanging 
 all these pleasant things, for " nothing but 
 houses and steeples." If you question those 
 who have her portrait in their hearts, they 
 will speak of faultless features, moulded on 
 the Grecian model ; of beautifully transpa-
 
 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 rent skin ; warm, meek, blue eyes ; and soft 
 hair, " brown in the shadow, and gold in the 
 sun." But affection has garnered up memories 
 of so much greater richness, that you can learn 
 nothing of these things, except upon inquiry. 
 The little girl was no favorite of fortune, (that 
 is, fortune on the golden side,) for there were 
 many mouths to feed in her father's house, 
 and the means were scanty. She was the eldest 
 of thirteen sons and daughters ; and while those 
 nearest her own age were yet in the cradle, 
 the stern lesson was begun, and little Sarah 
 became inured to toil and care. A tiny 
 manuscript volume, traced in carefully-formed 
 characters, almost the only relic of her busy 
 childhood, lies beside me as I write ; and al- 
 though there are no complainings on its pages, 
 there are words which give us, in simple sen- 
 tences, whole tales replete with meaning. f " My 
 mother cannot spare me to attend school this 
 winter ; but I have begun this evening to pursue 
 my studies at home." Again, the ensuing spring : 
 " My parents are not in a situation to send me 
 to school this summer ; so I must make every 
 exertion in my power to improve at home." 
 These entries, made in a miniature day-book, 
 at an age when few children can frame a cor- 
 rect sentence, bring before us a series of strug-
 
 EARLY DAYS. 
 
 gles, which affection may be allowed to contem- 
 plate with a proud sorrow. A mind less richly 
 endowed must have sunk to the level of daily 
 toil ; but not so hers. Though shrinkingly 
 modest, she had yet an elasticity of spirit, an 
 inner vigour and hopefulness which, all silently, 
 buoyed her up, and pushed her onward ; and to 
 this she gradually added habits of patient in- 
 dustry and quiet endurance. Improvement 
 intellectual improvement, was at this time the 
 one grand object, apart from the performance of 
 the duties of the day, which occupied her en- 
 tire attention, the nucleus of thought and ac- 
 tion. A few years later than the date of the 
 little day-book, we find in a note to a friend the 
 following suggestion : " I feel very anxious to 
 adopt some plan for our mutual improvement. 
 I think it might be useful for us to write to 
 each other frequently ; and let the subject be 
 something from the Holy Scriptures. You se- 
 lect some passage which is not easily compre- 
 hended, and send it to me for explanation. I 
 will consult commentators, and write what I 
 think of it, and will send you a text in return. 
 I think the advantages of such a correspond- 
 ence will be numerous; it will serve to 
 strengthen our friendship, teach us to express 
 our ideas with propriety, and, what is still
 
 10 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 more important, make us better acquainted 
 with the Word of God." 
 
 Care always regulates and balances a charac- 
 ter, by bringing sober thoughtfulness ; and it 
 will be seen from the above extract, that Sarah 
 was already thoughtful ; indeed, we find evi- 
 dence of this at twelve years of age, when she 
 very naively remarks, " To-morrow will be the 
 day which is called Thanksgiving, but I have 
 some fear, that it is only in the name." Then, 
 after making several remarks, which prove her 
 to be no enemy to this pumpkin-pie and roast- 
 turkey festival, she adds : " But this year I will 
 try to be truly thankful, and not forget the 
 good -God who so kindly watches over my 
 youthful days." 
 
 Much of her early poetry evinces the same 
 disposition, for though not decidedly religious, 
 it is on religious topics, mostly versification of 
 Scripture scenes. In a large mass of tattered 
 fragments, I find a Scripture poem of several 
 cantos in length, which must have been 
 written at a very early age, and never copied, 
 probably never finished. It is very difficult to 
 decypher it in anything like a connected form ; 
 but some fine passages, gleaned here and 
 there, fine, when the writer's age and advan- 
 tages are remembered, we cannot but dis-
 
 EARLY DAYS. 11 
 
 cover marks of unusual promise. The following 
 description of the Israelites, as they encamped 
 by the waters of Elim, bears no date, except 
 such as may be gathered from the cramped au- 
 tography, which, in its prim, stiff neatness, 
 bears a strong resemblance to the little day- 
 book already mentioned. 
 
 " Slowly and sadly, through the desert waste, 
 The fainting tribes their dreary pathway traced ; 
 Far as the eye could reach th' horizon round, 
 Did one vast sea of sand the vision bound. 
 No verdant shrub, nor murmuring brook was near 
 The weary eye and sinking soul to cheer ; 
 No fanning zephyr lent its cooling breath, 
 But all was silent as the sleep of death ; 
 Their very footsteps fell all noiseless there, 
 As stifled by the moveless, burning air ; 
 And hope expired in many a fainting breast, 
 And many a tongue e'en Egypt's bondage blest. 
 Hark ! through the silent waste, what murmur 
 
 breaks ? 
 
 What scene of beauty 'mid the desert wakes ? 
 Oh ! 'tis a fountain ! shading trees are there, 
 And their cool freshness steals out on the air ! 
 With eager haste the fainting pilgrims rush, 
 Where Elim's cool and sacred waters gush ; 
 Prone on the bank, where murmuring fountains flow, 
 Their wearied, fainting, listless forms they throw ; 
 Deep of the vivifying waters drink, 
 Then rest in peace and coolness on the brink, 
 2
 
 12 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON 
 
 While the soft zephyrs, and the fountain's flow, 
 Breathe their sweet lullaby in cadence low. 
 Oh ! to the way-worn pilgrim's closing eyes, 
 How rare the beauty that about him lies ! 
 Each leaf that quivers on the waving trees, 
 Each wave that swells and murmurs in the breeze, 
 Brings to his grateful heart a thrill of bliss, 
 And wakes each nerve to life and happiness. 
 When day's last flush had faded from the sky, 
 And night's calm glories rose upon the eye, 
 Sweet hymns of rapture through the palm-trees 
 
 broke, 
 
 And the loud timbrel's deep response awoke ; 
 Rich, full of melody, the concert ran, 
 Of praise to God, of gratitude in man, 
 While, as at intervals, the music fell, 
 ' Was heard, monotonous, the fountain's swell, 
 That, in their rocky shrines, flowed murmuring 
 
 there, 
 
 And song and coolness shed along the air ; 
 Night mantled deeper, voices died away, 
 The deep-toned timbrel ceased its thrilling sway ; 
 And there, beside, no other music gushing, 
 Were heard the solitary fountains rushing, 
 In melody their song around was shed, 
 And lulled the sleepers on their verdant bed." 
 
 A versification of David's lament over Saul 
 and Jonathan, is free from the defects of the 
 piece quoted above, and faithful to the beautiful 
 original. It is known to be one of the very
 
 EARLY DAYS. 13 
 
 earliest of her efforts, but it not unlikely re- 
 ceived some improvements from the cultivated 
 taste of later years : 
 
 The beauty of Israel for ever is fled, 
 And low are the noble and strong ; 
 
 Ye children of music encircle the dead, 
 And chant the funereal song. 
 
 Oh : speak not in Gath of the mighty laid low ! 
 
 Be ye mute in proud Askelon's street ! 
 Their daughters, in triumph at Israel's woe, 
 
 With scoffs the sad tidings would greet. 
 
 Ye mountains of Gilboa, never may dew 
 
 At eventide visit your flowers ; 
 May the fruits which the fields of your offerings 
 strew, 
 
 Never welcome the soft summer showers. 
 
 While there, in his proud, princely beauty he 
 stood, 
 
 Was the bow of the warriour unstrung ; 
 And low in the shadows that darken thy wood 
 
 The shield of the mighty was flung. 
 
 Oh, stronger than young mountain lions were 
 they! 
 
 Like the eagles they never knew fear ; 
 And proud as they walked in their kingly array, 
 
 Shone the light upon helmet and spear.
 
 14 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 For Saul, oh, ye daughters of Israel most fair ! 
 
 Who clothed you in scarlet and gold, 
 Untwine every gem from your beautiful hair, 
 
 And in sack-cloth your loveliness fold. 
 
 And I oh, my brother ! in sorrow for thee, 
 
 My spirit is bending full low ! 
 Thy smiles and thy voice have been pleasant to 
 me, 
 
 As the streams that in Lebanon flow. 
 
 Thy love was a wonderful, beautiful thing, 
 More than kindles in woman's fond breast ; 
 
 Not thy sister's young arms to my neck as they 
 
 cling, 
 More tenderly ever caressed. 
 
 Ye daughters of music, encircle the dead ! 
 
 And chant the funereal song ; 
 The beauty, the glory of Israel have fled, 
 
 And low in the dust lie the strong. 
 
 Sarah's fondness for poetry was not only sin- 
 gular, but somewhat wonderful, as it had no in- 
 centives. The poetical talent cannot be devel- 
 oped without leisure ; hence, though we often 
 find it budding amid the common affairs of life, 
 the sober, lowly pursuits by which we gain food 
 and raiment, some mournful blight is sure to 
 mar the expanding blossom, or its growth is 
 cramped by petty cares. Our young songstress
 
 EARLY DAYS. 15 
 
 had no leisure ; her hands and her thoughts 
 were both continually busy; and, in after years, 
 when her cares increased in magnitude, they 
 did not diminish in number. She was busy to 
 the end. When we compare the last mournful 
 effusion of the dying wife with the above spir- 
 ited effort of the young girl, we are prevented 
 from wondering at the small improvement in 
 style and finish, only, by its exquisitely touch- 
 ing tone, made melodious by the poetry of the 
 spirit. But the wonder, were it awakened, 
 would pass away, could we follow both child 
 and woman along their laborious paths, and see 
 the thoughts of the moi^nt linked hastily in 
 careless rhyme, as the hurried traveller binds, 
 while he hastens onward, the nosegay, not too 
 nicely culled, which he gathered by the way- 
 side. But young Sarah did not merely lack 
 leisure ; she had no one to guide and prune, to 
 suggest and encourage ; her whole library of 
 poetry consisted of a copy of Ossian, (which 
 she versified almost as freely as she did the 
 Scriptures,) and Thomson's " Castle of Indo- 
 lence." Yet it is impossible to examine her 
 papers without feeling that she laid no common 
 offering on the altar of her God, when she 
 breathed the petition " Here I am, send me !" 
 With opportunities to ripen and improve, she
 
 16 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 would have been surpassed by few female poets 
 in the world. But a better destiny, though 
 one of many shadows, lay before her, and 
 none can regret that she chose the soberer 
 pathway. 
 
 At the age of seventeen, we find Sarah teach- 
 ing for a few months, that she may gain the 
 means of studying for the same length of time ; 
 and then, pursuing the laborious task of paying 
 for the morning's recitation, by taking charge 
 of a class of little girls during the remainder of 
 the day, and no doubt poring over her books 
 far into the night. We are accustomed to con- 
 sider a self-educated^nan, with all his physical 
 strength and multiplicity of resources, worthy 
 of all praise ; what, then, shall we say of the 
 woman, who, unassisted and alone, goes be- 
 yond most of her sex, in accomplishing the 
 same object. It is difficult to ascertain the 
 extent of our young student's school educa- 
 tion, but passages from letters to intimate 
 friends tell something; and the degree of- 
 mental discipline which she brought to the 
 performance of later duties, proves that her 
 attainments were not superficial. 
 
 " We have finished Butler's Analogy since 
 you left school, and are now taking lessons in 
 Paley's Evidences."
 
 EARLY PAYS. 17 
 
 " I am studying Campbell's Philosophy of 
 Rhetoric." 
 
 "I am engaged this term in the study of 
 Logic and Geometry." 
 
 " I am at home this winter, teaching my 
 little brothers, and so have more leisure to 
 devote to my Latin." 
 
 Thus, with a multiplicity of duties on her 
 hands, was she toiling patiently along the up- 
 ward path to mental superiority preparing 
 for still heavier, but most precious toil.
 
 A NEW LIFE. 
 
 " Till David touched his sacred lyre, 
 In silence lay the unhreathing -wire ; 
 But when he swept its chords along. 
 Even angels stooped to hear the song. 
 So sleeps the soul till Thou, oh Lord ! 
 Shall deign to touch its lifeless chord 
 Till waked by Thee, its "breath shall rise, 
 In music, worthy of the skies." 
 
 Moore. 
 
 F Sarah's early religious impressions 
 I have learned but little, except that 
 they were like those of most thought- 
 ful children, sometimes strong, but always 
 evanescent. Now she would appear ex- 
 cessively alarmed at the thought of death, and 
 now seem utterly forgetful of her mortality ; at 
 one moment we find her distressed and tearful, 
 and in the next all happiness, as though the 
 earth were one vast flower, and she a but- 
 terfly, moulded expressly to sip its sweets. But 
 this could not continue, and at the age of six- 
 teen there came a change a spirit-birth. The
 
 A NEW LIFE. 19 
 
 " lifeless chord" was touched at last, and angels 
 bent to hear the music. It was a melody 
 which angels could appreciate ; but it may yet 
 find an echo in many a human bosom. 
 
 "I have this day," (June 4, 1820,) " in the 
 presence of the world, the holy angels, and the 
 omniscient God, publicly manifested my deter- 
 mination to forsake the objects of earth, and 
 live, henceforth, for Heaven. What have I 
 done ? Do I realize the importance of the step 
 I have taken ? Oh, my Saviour ! I am weak, 
 and the heart of man is deceitful ; but I do 
 hope in thy mercy. Thou didst die even for 
 the chief of sinners, and I know thou wilt par- 
 don all who come to thee believing. Take me, 
 dear Saviour, all sinful, unworthy as I am do 
 with me what thou wilt, but oh ! preserve me 
 from wounding thy precious cause !" 
 
 " I have to-day wept tears of pity, I can al- 
 most say anguish, at the stupidity of sinners. 
 Inhabitants of a Christian country, the word of 
 God in their hands; the mild, compassionate 
 Saviour waiting to receive them ; the Spirit 
 striving, and yet they bent upon their own de- 
 struction. But have I not more reason to be 
 astonished and weep at my own coldness I 
 who have felt, that Jesus bled and died, even 
 for my sins ; I wander from the way of life !
 
 20 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ' Turn me, oh God, and I shall be turned, draw 
 me, and I shall run after thee.' " 
 
 " To-day I had a long and serious conversa- 
 tion with my beloved sister Harriet. Sweet 
 child ! she wept when I told her of her danger- 
 ous state. I reminded her of the shortness of 
 time, the certainty of death, the value of the 
 soul, and the terrors of the Day of Judgment ; 
 and she appeared greatly distressed. But alas ! 
 I have reason to fear that her emotions were of 
 a different nature from those I would fain ex- 
 cite. I know that she loves me tenderly, and 
 apprehensions of an eternal separation cannot 
 fail to give her pain. Oh ! that the Holy Spirit 
 might convince her, and convince my other 
 sisters, and my brothers, of the importance of 
 seeking an interest in the Saviour." 
 
 Behold the little missionary, her youthful 
 feet tremblingly leaving their first impressions 
 on the path of life, seizing upon the work near- 
 est her, laboring and praying in the family cir- 
 cle the true charity which" begins at home," 
 and ends with the boundaries of the universe. 
 But even then she did not think of home 
 merely ; and we may well believe that the shad- 
 ow of her future life was, at that early period, 
 flung back upon her spirit. 
 
 " It is my ardent desire," she writes to a
 
 A NEW LIFE. 21 
 
 friend, " that the glorious work of reformation 
 may extend, ' till every knee shall bow' to the 
 living God. For this expected, this promised 
 era, let us pray earnestly, unceasingly, and with 
 faith. How can I be so inactive, when I know 
 that thousands are perishing in this land of 
 grace ; and millions, in other lands, are, at this 
 very moment, kneeling before senseless idols." 
 
 But to return to the journal : a single sheet 
 of paper folded in a little book, and the last 
 that she ever kept. In less than a month after 
 her baptism, she says : " While I have this day 
 had the privilege of worshipping the true God 
 in solemnity, I have been pained by the thoughts 
 of those who have never heard the sound of the 
 gospel. When will the time come that the poor 
 heathen, now bowing to idols, shall own the 
 living and true God 1 Dear Saviour, haste to 
 spread the knowledge of thy dying love to 
 earth's remotest bounds !" 
 
 " I have just completed the perusal of the 
 life of Samuel J. Mills ; and never shall I forget 
 the emotions of my heart, while following thus 
 the footsteps of this devoted missionary. I have 
 almost caught his spirit, and been ready to ex- 
 claim : Oh ! that I, too, could suffer privations, 
 hardships, and discouragements, and even find 
 a watery grave, for the sake of bearing the
 
 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 news of salvation to the poor heathen ! Then, 
 I have checked myself in the wild, unreason- 
 able wish. Sinners perishing all around me, 
 and I, an ignorant, weak, faithless creature, al- 
 most panting to tell the far heathen of Christ ! 
 Surely, this is wrong. I will no longer indulge 
 the vain, foolish wish, but endeavour to be use- 
 ful in the position Providence has placed me. 
 I can pray for deluded idolaters, and for those 
 who labour among them ; and this is a privilege 
 indeed." 
 
 Ah, meek, true-hearted one ! Such prayers 
 as thine, through Him who never turns away 
 from humble prayers, are the strength of many 
 a human hand ; and God grant that their pure 
 incense may ever circle round the lone mission- 
 ary of the Cross, and buoy up his spirit in the 
 midst of toil, and privations, and the bitter, 
 biting ingratitude of those who cannot under- 
 stand the good it brings. Blessings on thy 
 sweet, beautiful girlhood ! or blessings rather 
 on its memories ; for no blessings of ours can 
 reach the now bright, sainted spirit that thou 
 art ! But the warmth, the humility, the deep 
 devotedness, the whole graceful symmetry of 
 thy lovely character may it never be lost upon 
 thy fair countrywomen ! 
 
 With one more extract, the little journal must
 
 
 A NEW LIFE. 23 
 
 be closed. " When, dear Redeemer, when 
 shall I be ' free from this body of sin and death ?' 
 I long to sit for ever at thy feet, and gaze upon 
 thy face. But, perhaps, before this happiness is 
 mine, many asorrowful,sinfulday must be passed 
 in this deceitful world. If so, I must not be im- 
 patient. Heaven is the place that I most desire : 
 and should I ever be welcomed to its bliss, I 
 shall be entirely satisfied. 1 only ask a heart 
 to serve God, and labour for Him ; and then, 
 after living many years in this world, if I be 
 admitted to the joys of heaven, sweet will be 
 rny rest." 
 
 Another glimpse of the manner in which 
 Sarah, young as she was, commenced her " new 
 life," may be gained, through the following to a 
 friend. It is given as an apology for having 
 neglected letter-writing. " I am deeply engaged 
 in my studies, and my other avocations are 
 numerous and imperious. Besides, I have been 
 for six weeks past employed with a gentleman, 
 upon the evidences of the soul's immortality, 
 independent of the Scriptures. You may well 
 believe that this subject has engrossed a large 
 portion of my thoughts ; and we have not yet 
 finished the discussion." 
 
 An anecdote, illustrative of her faithful and 
 yet engaging mode of reproval, is given by a 
 3
 
 24 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 friend, and called to mind by the above extract. 
 At a house where Sarah was visiting, a young 
 gentleman had left a pack of gaming cards upon 
 the table. She saw them there, and wrote upon 
 the envelope, " Remember now thy Creator in 
 the days of thy youth ; while the evil days come 
 not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shall 
 say, I have no pleasure in them." Startled, 
 conscience-stricken, and curious, the gentle- 
 man made every effort to discover the source of 
 the warning ; and finally succeeded in engaging 
 a mutual friend to convey a note of inquiry to 
 the young monitress. She immediately replied : 
 
 " And would'st thou know what friend sincere, 
 Reminds thee of thy day of doom ? 
 
 Repress the wish : yet thou may'st hear, 
 She shed for thee a pitying tear, 
 For thine are paths of gloom." 
 
 Among the poems written about this time, 
 are " Lines to my Pastor," " Thoughts on the 
 Death of an Infant," " Why will ye die," &.C. 
 &,c. But, except in the deep tone of religious 
 feeling which characterizes most of them, they 
 are in no wise superiour to those of an earlier 
 date. She was not yet eighteen, however, and 
 there was too much of the real in her situation, 
 to leave any great opportunity for the cultiva-
 
 A NEW LIFE. 25 
 
 tion of the ideal. As a specimen of these pro- 
 ductions, an extract may be taken from a 
 short poem, entitled 
 
 " GETHSEMANE." 
 
 " Oh ! black were the clouds which enveloped the 
 
 even, 
 And slow from the hills crept the chill northern 
 
 breeze, 
 Cold, cold were the dews, thick descending from 
 
 heaven, 
 
 And hushed was each sound, save the rustling of 
 trees. 
 
 On earth, gloom and sorrow together were blent, 
 When the Saviour of sinners, by anguish oppres- 
 sed, 
 
 His sad, heavy steps to Gethsemane bent, 
 
 To breathe to his Father the griefs of his breast. 
 
 And can I, unmoved, hear those accents of woe ? 
 
 The purple drop starting, with carelessness see ? 
 From that measureless agony turn, and yet know, 
 
 Thus suffered the Saviour my Saviour for me? 
 
 Then woe to this bosom ! the bleak winds which 
 
 blew 
 
 Through his locks, on that eve, as much tender- 
 ness felt ; 
 
 Then woe to this bosom ! 'tis cold as the dew, 
 And dull as the turf where in anguish he knelt."
 
 26 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 It would be most interesting to be able to 
 gain even the slightest glimpse of the path in 
 which the young Christian walked for the few 
 years immediately succeeding her public pro- 
 fession of religion the heart-path,! mean for 
 the other is strewed with well-remembered acts. 
 One lady will tell us of the female prayer-meet- 
 ing, established in her chamber, just across the 
 way, by this youngest member of the church ; 
 another may still possess the dear little tract 
 which the meek young Christian walked a long, 
 long way to drop at the door ; and many, very 
 many are there, who even at this late day think 
 often of her words of gentle warning. 
 
 Mrs. C. C. P. Crosby, who has kindly fur- 
 nished some valuable reminiscences, says, " My 
 first particular acquaintance with Sarah Hall 
 began in 1823, when she called on me, and in- 
 vited me to join the Tract Society, and engage 
 in distributing tracts in a certain district. At 
 this time she was about eighteen years of age ; 
 and from that period till her departure for glory, 
 the most affectionate intercourse was main- 
 tained. In the tract labours she was assiduously 
 engaged during her residence in Salem. Soon 
 after this event, (the call above mentioned,) 
 a few of her female friends indulged a 
 trembling hope in the Saviour, and she sue-
 
 A NEW LIFE. 27 
 
 ceeded in establishing a prayer-meeting, where 
 she was accustomed to meet them each week 
 for several months, and the happy results were, 
 that all but one came forward publicly and 
 put on Christ. Although the attendants on 
 this meeting were all her seniors, and some 
 of them married ladies, yet Miss Hall was 
 the actual and acknowledged leader." 
 
 Her " pantings to tell the far 'heathen of 
 Christ," and the self-upbraidings by which her 
 singular humility strove to crush these aspira- 
 tions, must have caused a struggle, on which 
 those winged visitants, " sent to minister to the 
 heirs of salvation," gazed with thrilling interest, 
 but from us all is hidden. There are, indeed, 
 some sweet lines, which give a slight evidence 
 of a drawing of the heart westward ; and con- 
 taining a prophecy that, 
 
 " Ere long, in bright glory the gospel's pure light, 
 On each Cherokee dwelling shall shine ;" 
 
 and we know, that at one time she had serious 
 thoughts of becoming a member of the Indian 
 Mission, under McCoy. Beside this, I have 
 before me now, the torn fragment of a letter, 
 apparently from the secretary of a missionary 
 society in Central New-York, filled with inqui- 
 ries respecting her qualifications to labour
 
 28 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 among the Oneidas ; but to whom the letter 
 was addressed, or what passed on the subject, I 
 have no means of ascertaining. It serves to 
 show, however, that her feet were already tend- 
 ing to the path, in which they were afterward 
 to tread. The following lines, which are with- 
 out date, treat of topics with which the heart 
 seems to have been familiar : 
 
 "COME OVER AND HELP us." 
 
 " Ye, on whom the glorious gospel, 
 
 Shines with beams serenely bright, 
 Pity the deluded nations, 
 
 Wrapped in shades of dismal night ; 
 Ye, whose bosoms glow with rapture, 
 
 At the precious hopes they bear ; 
 Ye, who know a Saviour's mercy, 
 
 Listen to our earnest prayer ! 
 
 See that race, deluded, blinded, 
 
 Bending at yon horrid shrine ; 
 Madness pictured in their faces, 
 
 Emblems of the frantic mind ; 
 They have never heard of Jesus, 
 
 Never to th' Eternal prayed ; 
 Paths of death and woe they're treading, 
 
 Christian ! Christian ! come and aid ! 
 
 By that rending shriek of horrour, 
 Issuing from the flaming pile, 
 
 By the bursts of mirth that follow, 
 By that Brahmin's fiend-like smile ;
 
 A NEW LIFE. 29 
 
 By the infant's piercing cry, 
 
 Drowned in Ganges' rolling wave ; 
 By the mother's tearful eye, 
 
 Friends of Jesus, come and save ! 
 By that pilgrim, weak and hoary, 
 
 Wandering far from friends and home, 
 Vainly seeking endless glory 
 
 At the false Mahomet's tomb ; 
 By that blind, derided nation, 
 
 Murderers of the Son of God, 
 Christians, grant us our petition, 
 
 Ere we lie beneath the sod ! 
 
 By the Afric's hopes so wretched, 
 
 Which at death's approach shall fly ; 
 By the scalding tears that trickle 
 
 From the slave's wild, sunken eye ; 
 By the terrors of that judgement, 
 
 Which shall fix our final doom ; 
 Listen to our cry so earnest ; 
 
 Friends of Jesus, come, oh, come ! 
 
 By the martyrs' toils and sufferings, 
 
 By their patience, zeal, and love ; 
 By the promise of the Mighty, 
 
 Bending from His throne above ; 
 By the last command so precious, 
 
 Issued by the risen God ; 
 Christians ! Christians ! come and help us, 
 
 Ere we lie beneath the sod !"
 
 THE CONSECRATION. 
 
 "Behold her life the offering 
 
 In her young beauty bow ; 
 There hear her quivering glad lip "oroatho. 
 
 Her consecration vow ; 
 Love, deathless, lighting up her eye, 
 
 Its glory on her brow." 
 
 ft N the year one thousand eight hundred 
 and eighteen, the young, ardent, and 
 devoted Colman first planted his eager 
 foot upon . the land of idols ; and in little 
 more than two short years, a grave was made 
 for him in Chittagong. He did not go wea- 
 ried and worn out with toil ; but scarce had 
 he raised one warning finger, scarce had he 
 looked upon the field, when he was called from 
 his morning labour, to the rest of the sainted. 
 And there, beside his ashes, as though he had 
 never been, the pagoda still stood undisturbed 
 beneath the golden fillagree of its own " um- 
 brella," surrounded by a hundred miniature
 
 THE CONSECRATION. 31 
 
 copies of its taper self; and still beneath the 
 carved gables and glittering spires of the 
 Kyoung, swarmed yellow-robed, indolent 
 priests, pompously awake to their own im- 
 portance, their sanctity and learning ; but 
 with all their cunning and their miserable 
 pride, not a whit less ignorant and debased 
 than their blinded worshippers. And thither, 
 too, trooped thousands on thousands with their 
 offerings the old man with his fruit and rice, 
 and the young girl with her flowers ; and when 
 a few careless words had been muttered, with 
 eye and heart both wandering, all thought 
 that they had gained a step toward heaven, 
 and went away to commit their daily sins 
 without compunction, since remission could be 
 again so cheaply bought. From this scene 
 Colman passed, just as his tongue had learned 
 to frame some broken, but precious sentences; 
 and even the spirits above must have looked 
 in wondering awe upon the' strange dispen- 
 sation, while awakened to new admiration of 
 " the depth of the riches both of the wisdom 
 and knowledge of God." On earth heavily 
 sunk the sad intelligence into many a heart ; for 
 the mission cause was then in the weakness of 
 its infancy ; and to the finite eye, it looked a 
 tottering cause, balanced on a single point.
 
 32 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Within the walls of Waterville College, on 
 the green banks of the Kennebeck, sat a stu- 
 dent poring over his books. His slight, though 
 manly figure, gave no indication of physical 
 strength ; and there were blue veins on his 
 temples, a flush upon his cheek, and at times 
 a spiritual kindling of the eye, which formed 
 a sad tablet, that the most careless might read 
 with ease. It is seldom the destiny of one like 
 him to count the allotted three score and ten 
 links in the chain of life. But on the brow, 
 and in the eye, and clustering about the pen- 
 sively curved mouth, was a something full of 
 promise, a high-toned devotedness of charac- 
 ter, and a solemn earnestness, which seemed 
 to say, that the chain might yet be all the 
 richer for its shortness. To the student, in 
 the midst of his books, came the voice of 
 mourning ; and with it, up from the ashes of 
 the buried dead, came another voice, and his 
 blue eye darkened, and his bosom swelled 
 with enthusiasm, as he listened. 
 
 " A soldier has fallen ! to the field ! to the 
 field !" fell the spirit-stirring call upon his 
 heart ; and though honors, such honors as a 
 young man dearly loves to win, were waiting 
 his acceptance ; though bright visions lay be- 
 fore him, and loved ones gathered round, the 

 
 THE CONSECRATION. 33 
 
 voice still sounded in his ear, a trumpet-call, 
 and he could not disobey. In solemn loneli- 
 ness, the final consecration was at last made ; 
 and, in a few months more, young Board- 
 man was an accepted missionary. 
 
 But the voice from the grave of Colman 
 had reached a yet gentler spirit a spirit as 
 enthusiastic, as devoted, as noble as his own ; 
 but one which, in its meekness and feminine 
 delicacy, could reply only by sorrowful harp- 
 ings. Thus sung young Sarah Hall ; and 
 though by no means in her most poetical vein, 
 there is a genuine heart-throb in every line. 
 
 " 'Tis the voice of deep sorrow from India's shore, 
 
 The flower of our churches is withered, is dead, 
 
 The gem that shone brightly will sparkle no more, 
 
 And the tears of the Christian profusely are shed. 
 
 Two youths of Columbia, with hearts glowing 
 
 warm, 
 
 Embarked on the billows far distant to rove, 
 To bear to the nations all wrapped in thick gloom, 
 
 The lamp of the gospel the message of love. 
 But Wheelock now slumbers beneath the cold 
 
 wave, 
 
 And Colman lies low in the dark, cheerless grave ; 
 Mourn, daughters of Arracan, mourn ! 
 The rays of that star, clear and bright, 
 That so sweetly on Chittagong shone, 
 Are shrouded in black clouds of night, 
 For Colman is gone !
 
 34 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 At that sorrowful hour, that moment of woe, 
 When his cheek, lately glowing with health, was 
 
 all pale ; 
 And his lone wife, disconsolate, feeble and low, 
 
 Was sad, and no Christian replied to her wail ; 
 Did not angels in sympathy shed the soft tear, 
 As they gazed from their thrones far beyond the 
 
 blue sky ? 
 Oh no ; for the seraph of mercy was near, 
 
 To bid him rejoice, wipe the tear from her eye. 
 They saw, and with rapture continued their lays, 
 How great is Jehovah ! how deep are his ways ! 
 The spirit of love from on high, 
 The hearts of the righteous hath fired ; 
 Lo ! they come, and with transport they cry, 
 We will go where our brother expired, 
 And labour and die. 
 
 Oh, Colman ! thy father weeps not on thy grave ; 
 
 Thy heart-riven mother ne'er sighs o'er thy dust ; 
 
 But the long Indian grass there most sweetly shall 
 
 wav*e, 
 And the drops of the evening descend on the 
 
 just; 
 Cold, silent, and dark is the narrow abode, 
 
 But not long wilt thou sleep in that dwelling of 
 
 gloom, 
 For soon shall be heard the great trump of our 
 
 God, 
 To summon all nations to hear their last doom ;
 
 THE CONSECRATION. 35 
 
 A garland of amaranth then shall be thine, 
 And thy name on the martyrs' bright register shine ; 
 Oh, what glory will burst on thy view, 
 When are placed by the Judge of the earth 
 The flowers that in India grew 
 By thy care, on the never-pale wreath 
 Encircling thy brow ! 
 
 The elegy found its way to the public eye, 
 and to the eye and heart of the student. 
 Whence came it ? where could the chord be 
 hidden, whose strings gave so true an echo to 
 that vibrating in his own bosom 1 Boardman 
 was no poet, and he did not pause to weigh 
 words, or carp at sentiments because of some 
 plainness in their setting ; but by the light of 
 his own soul, he read the high enthusiasm of 
 another. At last they met, in the words of 
 the only witness to that first meeting, " their 
 spirits, their hopes, their aspirations, were one." 
 And then, again, yet fonder, tenderer, though 
 not stronger ties were broken, and beautiful 
 was the living sacrifice laid on the altar. 
 
 Thrice difficult, at that day of few prece- 
 dents, must have been such a self-consecration 
 to a woman. Madness, the world calls it 
 even now ; and if treasure, if gold and dia- 
 monds, if earthly honors, if the fame which 
 endures to the end of time, were the object, 
 4
 
 36 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 such madness would be too deep for measure- 
 ment. Who for any of these what delicate, 
 timid woman, would turn from the land of her 
 birth to voluntary exile? Who, for these, 
 could cast upon the roof which has sheltered 
 her, the hearth-stone which has been wet with 
 her tears, the walls which have rang with her 
 childish laughter, the habitation which the 
 smiles of the holiest earthly love have made 
 precious by their sunlight who could cast 
 upon all these the abiding shadow which must 
 needs darken all the places once blessed by 
 her beloved presence ? Who could look upon 
 the mother who bore her, and whose arms are 
 even then closed about her with that peculiar 
 tenderness which has its birth only in the 
 mother's bosom ; upon the father, whose eye 
 once lighted with pride at the sight of his 
 darling, but is now dim with the blinding 
 tears; the sister, the brother, who were the 
 playmates of her childhood, and bosom friends 
 of her youth who could look into all these 
 dear, fond, tearful faces, and then turn away 
 her eyes and never look again ? Who could 
 cast away all the refinements of civilization, 
 relinquish the sweet pleasures of social life, 
 the beautiful associations, which cluster, like 
 the spring-violets by her brook sides, around
 
 THE CONSECRATION. 37 
 
 every fair New-England town who could 
 leave all these for a wilderness, where the 
 glance of appreciation, the smile of sympathy, 
 are never seen, where the refined affectionate 
 circle never gathers, and the Sabbath bell 
 never sounds ? For earthly treasure, none 1 
 none ! But the Christian, she who knows 
 that, in obedience to her Father's voice, she 
 can never go beyond his smile what has she 
 to fear 1 What is the duty for which her spirit 
 cannot be strengthened ? Yet, none the less 
 to her, is there anguish in such partings ; and 
 who can guess the additional heart-ache caused 
 by one unkind or unwilling word. The first 
 of these we are not told that Sarah was called 
 to bear, farther than always falls upon those 
 who turn aside from the common beaten 
 track ; but who, without more than Abraham's 
 faith, could part willingly with such a child ? 
 and such faith was reserved to the last painful 
 moment ; for we have been told that poor 
 Sarah received no encouragement from those 
 she most loved, through all the indescribable, 
 unimaginable struggles, anticipatory of the 
 final self-sacrifice. 
 
 Mrs. Allen, in her beautiful obituary notice, 
 contained in the Mother's Journal of-Decem- 
 ber, 1845, says :
 
 38 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 " If we mistake not, she had not at first the 
 cordial consent of her family in this devotion 
 of herself to a missionary life. She was a 
 treasure too precious to be readily yielded up, 
 even for this holy work. We recollect that 
 when she left her paternal home, to reach the 
 ship which was to convey her " over the dark 
 and distant sea," after she had taken her seat 
 in the stage-coach with her chosen companion, 
 and the late revered Dr. Bolles, her pastor, 
 and had bestowed her last farewell upon the 
 family group, as though she felt that she had 
 not obtained that free and full consent to her 
 abandonment of home and country which her 
 filial heart craved, she looked out at the coach 
 window, and said, ' Father, are you willing ? 
 Say, father, that you are willing I should go.' 
 ' Yes, my child, I am willing.' ' Now I can 
 go joyfully !' was the emphatic response ; and 
 the noble wanderer went on her way with 
 cheerful composure." 
 
 Of this scene Mrs. Boardman writes to her 
 husband's parents, " My mother embraced me 
 as tenderly, when she whispered, ' Sarah, I 
 hope I am willing,' as she did one month be- 
 fore, when she wildly said, ' Oh ! I cannot 
 part with you !' Although my father's fond 
 affection was very apparent, he still submis-
 
 THE CONSECRATION. 
 
 sively acquiesced in what appeared to be the 
 will of Providence. After we were seated in 
 the carriage, I said, ' Papa, are you willing I 
 should go V ' Yes !' was the welcome reply." 
 
 And so the fond child's heart was made 
 glad even in the moment of its agony ; for 
 something of the previous reluctance of the 
 sorrow-stricken parents to resign their treasure 
 may be gathered from such pleadings as 
 these : 
 
 " Let us, my dear parents, go to Calvary ; 
 let us behold, for a few moments, the meek, 
 the holy Lamb of God, bleeding for our trans- 
 gressions. Then let us inquire, ' Shall I 
 withhold from this Saviour any object, how- 
 ever dear to my heart ? Shall I be unwilling 
 to suffer a few short years of toil and privation 
 for his sake ? Let us call to remembrance 
 those days of darkness through which we pas- 
 sed before Jesus lifted upon us the light of his 
 countenance. We have, I trust, each of us, 
 seen our lost and ruined condition by nature, 
 have seen ourselves exposed to the righteous 
 indignation of our Creator, have felt ourselves 
 sinking into endless despair and ruin, and all 
 this is merited. But oh, amazing love ! at 
 that desperate moment the Saviour smiled 
 upon us. He opened his arms of compassion,
 
 40 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 all polluted as we were with iniquity, he re- 
 ceived us, forgave our sins, and bade us hope 
 for joy unutterable beyond the grave. Did 
 we not, then, surrender all into Jris hand? 
 Was not this the language of our hearts, 
 
 4 Had I a thousand lives to give, 
 
 A thousand lives should all be thine !' 
 
 And has not the precious Redeemer as strong 
 claims upon us now as he had then ?" 
 
 The sweet devotedness of her character, 
 the forgetfulness of self, and thoughtfulness in 
 regard to others, appear in beautiful relief 
 through all these trials. She does not even 
 say, " Why do ye weep, and break my heart." 
 She speaks not a word of her own sufferings, 
 but strives, with cheerful simplicity, to wipe 
 away others' tears. "Give my love," she 
 writes from Philadelphia, "to the dear chil- 
 dren. Tell them, in a cheerful manner, that 
 sister Sarah has gone to teach the poor little 
 Burmans. I hope they will not be taught to 
 associate sad ideas with my leaving them." 
 
 A short time previous to Sarah's marriage, 
 she addressed the following plaintive lines to 
 him who was soon to be her only earthly 
 friend ; and they are the only expression of 
 any thought for herself which she has left : 

 
 THE CONSECRATIO.V. 41 
 
 " When far from those whose tender care 
 Protected me from ills when young ; 
 
 And far from those who love to hear 
 Affection from a sister's tongue ; 
 
 When on a distant heathen shore, 
 
 The deep blue ocean I shall see ; 
 And know the waves which hither bore 
 
 Our bark, have left me none but thee ; 
 Perhaps a thought of childhood's days 
 
 Will cause a tear to dim my eye ; 
 And fragments of forgotten lays 
 
 May wake the echo of a sigh. 
 Oh ! wilt thou then forgive the tear ? 
 
 Forgive the throbbings of my heart ? 
 And point to those blest regions, where 
 
 Friends meet, and never, never part 1 
 
 And when shall come affliction's storm, 
 When some deep, unexpected grief 
 
 Shall pale my cheek, and waste my form, 
 Then wilt thou point to sweet relief ? 
 
 And wilt thou, then, with soothing voice, 
 
 Of Jesus's painful conflicts tell ? 
 And bid my aching heart rejoice, 
 
 In these kind accents ' All is well ?' 
 When blooming health and strength shall fly, 
 
 And I the prey of sickness prove, 
 Oh ! wilt thou watch with wakeful eye, 
 
 The dying pillow of thy love ?
 
 42 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 And when the chilling hand of death 
 Shall lead me to my house in heaven, 
 
 And to the damp, repulsive earth, 
 In cold embrace, this form be given ; 
 
 Oh, need I ask thee, wilt thou then, 
 
 Upon each bright and pleasant eve, 
 Seek out the solitary glen, 
 
 To muse beside my lonely grave ? 
 And while fond memory back shall steal, 
 
 To scenes and days for ever fled ; 
 Oh, let the veil of love conceal 
 
 The frailties of the sleeping dead. 
 
 And thou may'st weep, and thou may'st joy, 
 For ' pleasant is the joy of grief;' 
 
 And when thou look'st with tearful eye 
 To heaven, thy God will give relief. 
 
 Wilt thou, then, kneel beside the sod 
 
 Of her who kneels with thee no more, 
 And give thy heart anew to God, 
 
 Who griefs unnumbered for thee bore ? 
 And while on earth thy feet shall rove, 
 
 To scenes of bliss oft raise thine eye, 
 Where, all-absorbed in holy love, 
 
 I wait to hail thee to the sky." 
 
 The Rev. Doct. Babcock, who had the pas- 
 toral charge of the church at Salem after the 
 young missionary's departure, thus speaks of
 
 THE CONSECRATION. 43 
 
 her as she was described to him by those who 
 knew her well. " She had been remarkable, 
 from the period of her first professing herself 
 a disciple of Christ, for the symmetry and 
 early maturity of her piety. This made her 
 the object of attention and attraction among 
 all the more spiritual-minded members of that 
 lovely church. In the domestic circle, she 
 was most useful, and indeed the chief depen- 
 dence of parents well able to appreciate this 
 inestimable jewel. Their own very limited 
 circumstances and numerous younger children, 
 with the feebleness of her mother's health, 
 threw on her young arms no trifling load. 
 But with that quiet, native energy and perse- 
 verance which always characterized her, she 
 contrived, after .faithfully accomplishing the 
 heavy tasks devolving on her at home, to find 
 time and means for successful mental cul- 
 tivation." 
 
 The editress of the Mother's Journal, in 
 the obituary notice already mentioned, says 
 farther : " She was of about middle stature, 
 agreeable in her personal appearance, and 
 winning in her manners. The first impression 
 of an observer respecting her, in her youth, 
 at the time of her departure from the country, 
 would be of a gentle, confiding, persuasive
 
 44 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 being, who would sweeten the cup of life to 
 those who drank it with her. But further 
 acquaintance would develop strength as well as 
 loveliness of character. It would be seen that 
 she could do and endure as well as love and 
 please. Sweetness and strength, gentleness 
 and firmness, were in her character most hap- 
 pily blended. Her mind was both poetical 
 and practical ; she had refined taste, and a love 
 for the beautiful as well as the excellent. 
 
 For some years before she went to India, 
 she had been a contributor to the Christian 
 Watchman and Baptist Magazine, or had 
 written several articles which found their way 
 into these and other publications. Her poetry 
 then had merit. A piece written upon the 
 death of Messrs. Colman and Wheelock, soon 
 after their arrival in Burmah as missionaries, 
 and another upon the death of Catharine 
 Brown, a Cherokee girl, attracted attention, 
 and gave a favourable impression of the writer 
 before she was otherwise known to the public. 
 
 It may not be amiss to insert in this con- 
 nection, an Acrostic, (a somewhat fashionable 
 style of compliment in New-England twenty- 
 five years ago,) addressed to the young poetess, 
 previous to her acquaintance with Mr. Board- 
 man. As it appeared anonymously in a news-
 
 
 THE CONSECRATION. 45 
 
 paper, I cannot give the author's name with 
 any degree of certainty, but I have some 
 strong reasons for suspecting that it would be 
 now no strange sound, in the ear of the readers 
 of popular American literature. 
 
 "SARAH HALL." 
 
 " Soft and sweet thy numbers flow, 
 And with pious fervour glow ; 
 Raptured, we thy strains admire, 
 And would catch thy hallowed fire ; 
 Heavenly themes, and strains divine, 
 Blessed harmonist, are thine. 
 Happy songstress, tune thy lay, 
 Artless thus, till called away ; 
 Loosed from earth to sing above 
 Lays divine, in realms of love." 
 
 What Sarah Hall would have been, if her 
 young mind had not taken the self-denying 
 direction, that prevented the literary develop- 
 ment, to which she seemed at first inclined, 
 may be the subject of agreeable conjecture; 
 what she really was, we shall soon learn, by 
 following her across the blue waters to her 
 tropic home.
 
 CONTRASTS. 
 
 " And there are men in uncouth dress, 
 That round the stranger vessel press :- 
 And fragrant groves on every side. 
 
 Bask in the sultry, noon-day beam, 
 Or lave their branches in the tide, 
 
 Of Arah-wah-tee's tranquil stream ; 
 But not a tree on all the strand, 
 
 Is known in Anna's native land "# 
 
 NN Hasseltine Judson, as she ap- 
 peared at Washington during the 
 ^winter of 1823, is thus descri- 
 bed by the Rev. Doct. Babcock : " Rather 
 above the medium female stature, her pleasant, 
 frank, open countenance had still an air of dig- 
 nity, an ingenuous, unsought loftiness of bear- 
 ing, which could not fail to inspire profound 
 respect and almost a feeling of awe. Her con- 
 
 * From " Anna's Return," a poem addressed to 
 Mrs. Ann H. Judson, by a daughter of J. Butterworth, 
 Mrs. P. Gordon.
 
 CONTRASTS. 47 
 
 versation partook of the same traits. She 
 was affable and meek, yet was she most em- 
 phatically dignified. * * * The whole 
 impression produced by intercourse with her 
 at this period, was that of majestic sweet- 
 ness." 
 
 Others have spoken more minutely of a 
 half- oriental style of beauty a fine oval face, 
 with a profusion of jetty curls around it, rich 
 Spanish complexion, and dark, deep eyes, full 
 of the lofty enthusiasm of character, the latent 
 heroism, afterwards so thrillingly developed. 
 At Salem the two met the brilliant, accom- 
 plished woman, who had studied the human 
 heart, in its various phases, on three conti- 
 nents, and who by her innate loftiness, as well 
 as high-toned devotedness of spirit, could awe 
 both savage and cultivated minds ; and young, 
 timid Sarah Hall, an unsunned dew-drop, in 
 her sweet meekness. How strangely interest- 
 ing this meeting ; if any there had but pos- 
 sessed the power to turn a few leaves in the 
 book of human destiny ! 
 
 A little anecdote will serve to illustrate 
 a trait of character in the younger, which 
 was prominent through life. True greatness, 
 after it has once been developed, however 
 unassuming, bears al ^ays with it a conscious- 
 5
 
 48 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ness of power, perfectly consistent with femi- 
 nine delicacy and Christian humility. Clothed 
 in this power, sat the returned missionary, 
 surrounded by listening admirers and learned 
 divines, discussing topics of vast magnitude 
 and weighty importance. Miss Hall, totally 
 unaware of the wealth of thought and feeling 
 as yet but partly unlocked in her own bosom, 
 and blushing with girlish timidity whenever 
 the fine, dark eye fell on her, endeavoured to 
 shrink from observation, while she drank in 
 every word with greedy earnestness. But the 
 nature of the " consecration vow" she had 
 breathed was no secret ; and so her personality 
 was gone, or at least that part of it which 
 consisted in an indulgence of natural feeling, 
 as well as that which would have made her 
 the exclusive proprietor* of the swellings of 
 her own heart. I believe it is the opinion of 
 wise men, that a woman daring enough to 
 identify herself with one who is to stand on 
 the outposts of Zion, should have no objection 
 to occupying a kind of honourable pillory, 
 before both church and world, till the curi- 
 osity of all amiable gazers is fully satisfied ; 
 so, one who loved young Sarah well, but could 
 not comprehend the delicate attunement of 
 her spirit, made a startling proposition.
 
 CONTRASTS. 49 
 
 What could be more interesting here, in the 
 presence of one who had seen Colman in 
 India, than the reading of the Elegy; and 
 that by the fair author, now on the eve of 
 following in his footsteps 1 Interesting to the 
 listeners, of course ; so despite her low plead- 
 ings, (for genuine modesty would not allow 
 her to attract the attention of the waiting 
 company by stronger demonstrations of reluc- 
 tance,) the poor, trembling girl was dragged 
 before the awe-inspiring circle, and the paper 
 thrust into her hand. One better versed in 
 the ways of the world would have released 
 herself from the embarrassing position with 
 ease ; and two years after so would she. But 
 now she saw no mode of escape. She com- 
 menced reading in a hurried, faltering tone, 
 quite unusual ; but she, also, had enthusiasm 
 of character, and a quiet dignity, and her soul 
 had been in the subject when she wrote ; so 
 her voice gradually grew firm, and resumed its 
 natural modulations. She finished, and with- 
 out raising her head enough to perceive that 
 the eyes she most dreaded were filled with 
 tears, stole away to hide her burning blushes 
 in some retired corner. Twenty years after- 
 wards, when she mentioned the little incident, 
 as one of exceeding painfulness at the time of
 
 50 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 its occurrence, she said nothing, probably 
 she knew nothing, of the murmur of applause 
 which went around the circle, while her own 
 cheeks were tingling with mortification. 
 
 It had at first been the intention of young 
 Boardman to accompany Mrs. Judson on her 
 return voyage ; but it was afterwards thought 
 advisable for him to remain a little longer at 
 his studies. Beside, a previous appointment 
 had been made by the Board of Missions ; 
 and, with Mr. and Mrs. Wade, Mrs. Judson 
 re-traversed intervening oceans, and in the 
 autumn of 1823, joined her husband at Ran- 
 goon. A few days found them on their way 
 to Ava. And here the elegant woman, who, 
 but a little while before, had been received in 
 London as an " angel-visitant," shone a bril- 
 liant star in the most refined and intellectual 
 circles of Edinboro', and moved the idol of 
 tender hearts and admiring eyes in her own 
 America, was obliged to pass two weeks in a 
 little native boat, moored on the shore ; for 
 they had, in her own words, " no home, no 
 house to shelter us from the burning sun by 
 day, and the cold dews by night." 
 
 A warning cloud seemed to be settling over 
 the golden city ; there was a strange fluttering 
 in the pulse of power ; but what interest had
 
 CONTRASTS. 51 
 
 a mere teacher of religion in these things ? 
 How should they interfere with his pursuits? 
 Surely, with the influence which he had 
 gained at court, and his repeated assurances 
 that he was not an Englishman, he would be 
 allowed to remain unmolested. So the mis- 
 sionary erected his board cottage, and meekly 
 and patiently, the two sat down to their toil- 
 some labour. But an unexpected voice came 
 up from Bengal, the roar of cannon, and 
 the clash of arms and, instantly, the royal 
 city seemed as though swarming with ban- 
 ditti. 
 
 " They are spies ! they are spies !" and lo ! 
 at once the cord and the death-prison ! Then 
 followed clanking chains and the torturing 
 stocks ; then wailed the feeble infant, a strange, 
 lovely guest in such a fearful scene ; then the 
 fever raged in the father's veins, and burned 
 up his brain ; and the big tear rolled from 
 fond, beautiful eyes, as the delicate wife and 
 mother crouched before dusky forms, and 
 raised the petitioning voice to hardened ears ; 
 and, still, wanton cruelty, cupidity, suspicion, 
 and mocking malice kept up the torture. Still 
 the heavy fetters, pair on pair, bound down 
 the scarred and aching limbs ; and still the 
 worst of criminals, thieves, and murderers, 
 5*
 
 52 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 were the jailors of Christian men, and jeered 
 on them in the low, disgusting mirth of base, 
 as well as savage natures. So day after day, 
 week after week, and month after month, 
 dragged their weary, weary, rounds, and no 
 change came. None ? Ah ! the torturing 
 march, beneath a blazing tropic sun at noon- 
 day, with blistering flesh, bleeding feet, faint- 
 ing limbs, and reeling figure, when death came 
 to the prisoners' ranks, and released one poor 
 wretch from his sufferings this was indeed 
 a change ! Then came the terrible shock to 
 the agonized wife, left without a clue in that 
 great horrour-haunted city the anguish of 
 suspense, the hurried search, the savage re- 
 pulse, the fearful whispers which clothed 
 threatened death with terrible, nameless hor- 
 rours ; and then the infectious malady dis- 
 ease in various forms, with not one remedy at 
 hand all these came on with overwhelming 
 power, till even her indomitable spirit had 
 well nigh fainted, but that from the prison 
 and the chains came a voice of encourage- 
 ment, all languid as it was with pain and 
 suffering; and that both hearts leaned confi- 
 dingly on Heaven. And thus, for the greater 
 part of two long, dragging years, did the 
 benefactors of poor Burmah walk through 

 
 CONTRASTS. 53 
 
 sufferings far worse than death, while the 
 Christian world were striving in vain to guess 
 their fate. 
 
 Meantime, Boardman, with his fair young 
 wife, had embarked for the scene of their 
 future hopes, fears, and toils. Letters dated 
 nearly a year previous, had brought intelli- 
 gence of hostilities between Burmah and the 
 Bengal government, and of the narrow escape 
 of Messrs. Hough and Wade at Rangoon ; but 
 it was known that the English arms were 
 victorious, and there could be little doubt but 
 permanent peace was by this time restored. 
 At least, Rangoon had been seized by the 
 English, and there a home awaited the mis- 
 sionary strangers. 
 
 " Beyond the town's remotest confine hid 
 By thick embowering trees from distant ken, 
 
 ArVhere wild beasts in the evening prowled amid 
 The near dark jungle ; and yet wilder men 
 Nightly marauded ; solitary stood 
 
 The Mission-House ; table, and chair, and mat, 
 Its furniture, of fashioning most rude ; 
 
 And close beside it, rose the white zayat, 
 Beneath whose roof of leaves, all day the 
 teacher sat." 
 
 Thither it was their intention to proceed at 
 once, and commence their life labours. Under
 
 54 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 these impressions, it is a little singular that 
 Mrs. Boardman, when almost in sight of port, 
 should have penned the following words : 
 " Perhaps on our arrival at Calcutta, we shall 
 be informed that Rangoon is regained by the 
 Burmese, and the station abandoned ! Per- 
 haps the missionaries at Ava have fallen vic- 
 tims to the implacable vengeance of a people, 
 whose ' tender mercies are cruel.' Or if we 
 should be allowed to settle quietly in Burmah, 
 who knows but some unforeseen revolution 
 may occasion our expulsion, and we be 
 doomed to rove from shore to shore? You 
 recollect that our first American missionaries 
 were called to endure trials similar to these. 
 It is not impossible that some tree of Central 
 Africa may yet shelter our mouldering dust ; 
 or the deep, desolating snows of Siberia 
 descend upon the graves of those, who left 
 their homes expecting to labour and die upon 
 the soil of Burmah. We may even fall mar- 
 tyrs to the cause of our precious Saviour. 
 But, my dear Charlotte, it matters little where 
 this poor dust mingles with its kindred dust, 
 if but the spirit be prepared to ascend to 
 regions of eternal blessedness. My whole 
 desire is to live devoted to God on earth; and, 
 when the hour of dissolution comes, let me
 
 CONTRASTS. 55 
 
 behold Jesus smiling upon me, and I shall 
 be happy, even though amid tortures and 
 flames." 
 
 The next letter is filled with sorrowful 
 tidings, for all missionary labour was sus- 
 pended in Burmah ; and she adds, " We are 
 exceedingly distressed when we try to picture 
 the fate of our friends at Ava." Under these 
 circumstances, Boardman's only course was 
 to remain in Calcutta until the close of the war, 
 and endeavor to make some preparation for 
 future usefulness. At first he took up his 
 residence in a suburban village, and subse- 
 quently in town. Here they were compara- 
 tively well situated for study, and lost no time 
 in obtaining a Burmese teacher. 
 
 A letter, bearing date April 13, 1826, thus 
 commences : " Rejoice with me, my beloved 
 sister, at the wonderful preservation and de- 
 liverance of our dear friends, who for so long 
 a time endured imprisonment, and sufferings 
 innumerable at Ava ! The intelligence of 
 their safety has filled our hearts with joy ; and 
 has excited within us warm emotions of grati- 
 tude to that beneficent Being, who never 
 leaves nor forsakes those who put their trust 
 in Him. Doct. and Mrs. Judson are now in
 
 56 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Rangoop, and Doct. Price is with us, in 
 Calcutta." 
 
 Rangoon had been, by the treaty, restored 
 to the Burmese, and it now became the first 
 business of the missionaries to find some spot 
 under the British government, where the 
 wandering dove of gospel peace might find 
 some little rest for the sole of her foot. In 
 relation to this Mrs. Boardman says : " Mr. 
 Judson wrote us not long since, that he was 
 just going in company with Commissioner 
 Crawford to explore and survey a tract of 
 land, lying on the Martaban River, where the 
 English propose to erect a town, to be the 
 emporium of their trade with Burmah. Should 
 a town be erected under favourable prospects, 
 it seems probable that it may become the seat 
 of our prominent missionary establishment." 
 
 Amherst was at last decided upon as the 
 seat of the new station ; and Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wade immediately proceeded thither from 
 Calcutta. But before they reached it, Ann H. 
 Judson had laid her martyr-head beneath the 
 Hopia, crowning the green mound which 
 overlooks the ocean. Death had made an 
 early visit ; and there was yet a puny, wail- 
 ing infant, who but waited the same call.
 
 CONTRASTS. 57 
 
 The new station was established in lowliness 
 of spirit, in humility, in sorrowing, and tears. 
 In compliance with a pressing invitation 
 from the Circular Road church, and with the 
 advice of the other missionaries, Mr. Board- 
 man remained several months longer at Cal- 
 cutta, until some plan of operation might be. 
 so far matured, as to require his labours in 
 Burmah. Under date of January, 1827, Mrs. 
 Boardman thus writes to a friend : " I sometimes 
 think, that of all God's creatures, I have most 
 occasion for gratitude. Since I bade adieu to 
 my native land, the events that have transpired 
 in relation to me have been one series of mer- 
 cies. I am blest with excellent health, a most 
 affectionate husband, a lovely daughter, and 
 everything in my outward circumstances to 
 make me comfortable and happy. In view of 
 these temporal mercies, I can indeed say, my 
 cup runneth over ! But when I think of my 
 spiritual privileges, I am still more over- 
 whelmed. Among these, the near prospect of 
 being actually engaged in the glorious cause 
 of missions, is by no means the least. I still 
 feel it to be a privilege of which I am utterly 
 unworthy, but for which, I hope, I am not 
 altogether unthankful. 1 ' 
 Yet, notwithstanding passages like the above,
 
 58 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Mrs. Boardman's after testimony proves that 
 her residence in Calcutta did not conduce to 
 her spirituality in religion. Whatever might 
 have been her improvement in other respects, 
 she did not make that progress in the wisdom 
 which is foolishness to the men of this world, 
 those advances in the grace of Christ, which 
 her previous course had promised. Delay had 
 brushed the first bloom from her enthusiasm, 
 and though it might give place to something 
 better and more enduring, which was to come 
 hereafter, the present effect was to be regretted. 
 She was a lovely wife, a fond, proud mother, 
 a most attractive companion, and an accom- 
 plished lady. It has been written of her that 
 her English friends, at this time, regarded her 
 " as the most finished and faultless specimen 
 of an American woman that they had ever 
 known." She was a Christian, too, preferring 
 in her heart of hearts the service of her bles- 
 sed Saviour, to any pleasures or distinctions 
 that the world can give ; but her position was 
 not favourable to the development of fervent, 
 heart-piety. Worldly prosperity, and idleness, 
 (a kind of spiritual-idleness, I mean ; for Mrs. 
 Boardman's hands and head were doubtless 
 busy,) are great enemies to growth in grace, 
 and both of these were incidental to her
 
 CONTRASTS. 59 
 
 position. She was not yet on her own mis- 
 sionary ground, and the people, to whom her 
 heart had gone, were not about her ; so, while 
 Mr. Boardman, in his less limited capacity of 
 a preacher and a man, could say, " I never 
 had so much reason to believe that God was 
 with me, to bless my labours, as I have had 
 here," she was only studying a dry, difficult 
 language, and looking to the future for useful- 
 ness. Her love to God, though real, at times 
 fervent, and always sufficiently strong to 
 render her capable of any sacrifice of worldly 
 advantage to duty, had not yet been ripened 
 by long exercise, nor chastened by sorrow. 
 The news of the death of a little brother, for 
 whom she had felt the half-maternal tenderness 
 natural to an elder sister, startled her, for a 
 moment, from a state of spiritual lukewarm- 
 ness. Pathetic were the appeals made to her 
 other brothers and her sisters, for preparation 
 to meet the lost little one ; and pointed and 
 emphatic were her heart-questions. Indeed, 
 constant warnings to the family friends, from 
 whom she had parted, were never neglected 
 from the time she looked her last upon them 
 in the land of her birth, till her failing hand 
 dropped the pen for ever. The following is a
 
 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 part of a poem, written after the bereavement 
 above mentioned : 
 
 " Oh, I remember well the time when thou, 
 A little child, first lisped thy evening prayer. 
 Then I was wont to kneel "beside thy cot, 
 And plead for blessings on thine infant head ; 
 And when I'd kissed thy cheek, and wished for 
 
 thee 
 
 A night of pleasant sleep and joyful morn, 
 How oft upon my ear thine accents fell, 
 Plaintive and sweet as is the voice of birds, 
 ' Come back, dear sister, for a moment come, 
 And tell me more of that dear Saviour's love ; 
 Teach me to shun the dark and dreadful world, 
 Where wicked spirits dwell in guilt and shame ; 
 And talk to me of heaven, where Jesus is !' 
 And often now, in fancy, do I see 
 Thee on thy bed of languishing and death. 
 I see thee stretch thy weak and wasted arms, 
 To clasp bhine infant sister ; hear thee say, 
 Dear mother, give the baby Sarah's name ; 
 I see thee raise thy glazing eye to heaven, 
 And hear thee lisp thy simple, dying prayer. 
 But oh ! 'tis fancy all ; I was not there, 
 To hear the gentle pleadings of thy voice, 
 To smooth thy dying pillow, and to claim 
 Thy last fond look of love. I was not there, 
 To soothe thy father's grief, and wipe the tear 
 From the mild eye of her who gave us birth. 
 
 \
 
 CONTRASTS. 61 
 
 Alas ! in sorrow's hour, they looked in vain 
 For me, their eldest born ; but still I know 
 They were not all alone. Jesus was there ; 
 Upon his breast my brother leaned his head ; 
 His blessed presence softened every grief; 
 My parents wept, but his kind, soothing hand 
 Wiped from their eyes the tear, and all was wett*
 
 MAtTLMAIN. 
 
 Broad leaves spreading, creepers trailing, 
 
 Cast strange, fitful shadows there ; 
 Brilliant blossoms, fruits ne'er failing. 
 Crimson clouds in azure sailing, 
 Lade with -wealth the slumberous air. 
 
 But the hooded serpent's creeping 
 Where the richest blossoms fall ; 
 
 From his lair the tiger leaping ; 
 
 And dark forms, at midnight creeping, 
 Ghost-like, glide along the -wall. 
 
 N the 17th of April, 1827, the 
 Boardmans arrived at Amherst ; and 
 in two days after Mrs. Boardman 
 was first attacked by the disease which made 
 her an invalid for many years; and which, 
 finally, after a long interval of health, brought 
 her to the grave. How peculiarly saddening 
 must any illness have seemed at this crisis ; 
 when, after an absence of nearly two years 
 from her native land, she had just set foot, for
 
 MAULMAIN. 63 
 
 the first, time, upon the soil of Burmah. Her 
 little daughter, also, the beautiful, rosy-cheeked 
 Sarah, of whom she had so often spoken in 
 her letters, with the proud fondness of a young 
 mother, was even * more a sufferer than she. 
 And they had come to no place of joy. The 
 shadowy form of the great Destroyer had 
 scarce passed from the door of the rude mis- 
 sion-house ; but yet he turned back, and stood 
 again upon the threshold. Almost the first 
 labour of Mr. Boardman's hands was to con- 
 struct the small, last house, " doorless and dark 
 within," of a little being, (the infant first pil- 
 lowed among her father's chains at Ava,) who 
 might tell her sister seraphs of a short life still 
 darker. He assisted in laying Maria Judson 
 by her mother's side, and then walked beside 
 the one sorely-stricken mourner, back to his 
 own family of invalids. 
 
 It was soon resolved that the three mission- 
 aries should attempt the occupation of both 
 Amherst and Maulmain, twenty-five miles 
 apart ; and the Boardmans immediately prepared 
 for removal. A small bamboo house, a very 
 frail shelter in the eyes of an American, was 
 erected for them at Maulmain as soon as prac- 
 ticable ; and Mrs. Boardman was carried to 
 the water-side upon a litter, to be placed in the 
 6*
 
 64 
 
 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 boat which was to convey her to her new 
 home. A row of native houses had sprung 
 up along the water-side, and the little town 
 was daily receiving accessions to its popula- 
 tion, from those who preferred the English 
 government to their own. The Mission-House 
 was in a lonely spot, about a mile from the 
 cantonments, and the thick jungle close at 
 hand, was the haunt of wild beasts, whose 
 howlings sounded dismally on their ears in the 
 night-time. Behind them rose a handsome 
 range of hills, tipped here and there with the 
 mark of a nation's idolatry the light, graceful 
 pagoda, with its white or gilded masonry, and 
 glittering ornaments; and before them rolled 
 a broad, beautiful river, in which an Eng- 
 lish sloop of war was lying at anchor, and 
 curiously-shaped Indian boats were passing to 
 and fro, with each changing tide. Just across 
 the river, lay the Burman province of Marta- 
 ban, which having been deserted by its peaceful 
 inhabitants, became, to the terrible men who 
 took shelter there, like his own mountain- 
 fastnesses to MacGregor. Armed with knives, 
 spears, and sometimes muskets, they sallied 
 forth in parties of twenty or thirty, at night- 
 fall ; and then woe to the poor wretch who was 
 suspected of having treasure worth the trouble
 
 MAULMAIN. 65 
 
 of a visit. Sometimes even entire villages 
 were destroyed by them, and they once ven- 
 tured so far as to attack a guard of sepoys. 
 Stealthily they moved, with a tread as light as 
 the Indians of the western world ; and when 
 they had secured their booty, the Martaban 
 coast became to them the altar of Jupiter. By 
 touching that, they were safe, for it was beyond 
 the jurisdiction of the English ; and so they 
 carried on their daring trade with impunity. 
 The English general had suggested to Mr. 
 Boardman that he might be exposing himself 
 to danger, both from these lawless men and 
 the wild beasts of the jungle ; and had invited 
 him to take up his residence within the can- 
 tonments. But this would have defeated the 
 missionary's object ; for to serve the Burmese, 
 or even prepare to serve them, by studying 
 their character and language, he must be with 
 them. 
 
 Here, in a place well-calculated, from its 
 loneliness, for study, Mrs. Boardman applies 
 herself to the acquisition of the language very 
 successfully ; for she had the advantage of 
 hearing it spoken daily. She even attempted 
 to converse with the half-wild children, who 
 stood gaping at her in amused curiosity ; and 
 attracted them about her as much as possible,
 
 66 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 in the hope that, as soon as she was prepared, 
 she might be able to establish a school. " Oh ! 
 for a common language !" has been the half- 
 impatient exclamation of many in her situation. 
 To the eyes of purblind mortals, it seems a 
 great pity that the curse of Babel could not 
 have been restricted to those who make them- 
 selves strong to do evil. 
 
 About a month after Mrs. Boardman's arri- 
 val at Maulmain, under date of June 20th, she 
 writes a friend : " We are in excellent health, 
 and as happy as it is possible for human beings 
 to be upon earth. It is our earnest desire to 
 live, and labour, and die, among this people." 
 
 Four days passed after the writing of this 
 letter, as previous hours passed ; men in loose 
 garments of gayly-plaided cloth, and with their 
 long, black hair wound about their heads, and 
 confined by folds of muslin, looked curiously 
 in at the door of the strange foreigner ; and 
 then encouraged by some kind word or glance, 
 or the spreading of a mat, seated themselves 
 in their own fashion, talked a little while with 
 their host, though often, from misapprehension 
 of each other's meaning, at cross-purposes, 
 and went away, leaving him to his books and 
 teacher. Women and children gathered more 
 timidly, but with curiosity even less disguised,
 
 MAULMAIN. 67 
 
 about the Kalah-ma-pyoo, (white foreigness,) 
 wondering at her strange costume, the fairness ' 
 of her skin, and the superiority displayed in 
 her bearing ; and some of the bolder of them 
 venturing to touch her hand, or to pass their 
 tawny, taper fingers from the covered instep to 
 the toe of the neatly-formed slipper, so unlike 
 their own clumsy sandals. But who, among 
 all these, came to inquire of Jesus Christ, or 
 learn the way to heaven ? Most emphatically 
 could they say, " We have not so much as 
 heard if there be a God." 
 
 On the evening of the fourth day, as it 
 deepened into night, the books of study were 
 thrown aside, and the book of God taken in 
 their stead; then the prayer was raised to 
 heaven, and the little family went to rest. 
 Feeble were the rays of the one pale lamp, close 
 by the pillow of the young mother, scarce 
 throwing its light upon the infant resting in 
 her bosom, and penetrating into the remote 
 darkness, but by feeble flickerings. So sleep 
 soon brooded over the shut eyelids; and 
 silence folded its solemn wings about the little 
 habitation. 
 
 The infant stirred, and the mother opened 
 her eyes. Why was she in darkness? and 
 what objects were those scattered so strangely
 
 t)8 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 about her apartment, just distinguishable from 
 the gray shadows ? The lamp was soon re- 
 lighted, and startling was the scene which it 
 revealed. There lay, in odd confusion, trunks, 
 boxes, and chests of drawers, all rifled of their 
 contents ; and strewed carelessly about the 
 floor, were such articles as the marauders had 
 not considered worth their taking. While re- 
 . garding in consternation, not appreciable by 
 those who have access to the shops of an 
 American city, this spoiling of their goods, 
 Mrs. Boardman chanced to raise her eye to 
 the curtain, beneath which her husband had 
 slept, and she thought of the lost goods no 
 more. Two long gashes, one at the head and 
 the other at the foot, had been cut in the 
 muslin ; and there had the desperate villains 
 stood, glaring on the unconscious sleeper 
 with their fierce, murderous eyes, while the 
 booty was secured by their companions. The 
 bared, swarthy arm was ready for the blow, 
 and the sharp knife or pointed spear glittered 
 in their hands. Had the sleeper opened his 
 eyes, had he only stirred, had but a heavy, 
 long-drawn breath startled the cowardice of 
 guilt ah, had it ! But it did not. The 
 rounded limbs of the little infant lay motionless 
 as their marble counterfeit ; for if the rosy
 
 lips had moved but to the slightest murmur, or 
 the tiny hand crept closer to the loved bosom 
 in her baby dreams, the chord in the mother's 
 breast must have answered, and the death- 
 stroke followed. But the mother held her 
 treasure to her heart and slept on. Murderers 
 stood by the bedside, regarding with callous 
 hearts, the beautiful tableau; and the hus- 
 band and father slept. But there was one 
 Eye open the Eye that never slumbers ; a 
 protecting wing was over them, and a soft, in- 
 visible hand pressed down their sleeping lids. 
 
 Nearly every article of value, that could be 
 taken away, had disappeared from the house ; 
 and though strict search was made throughout 
 the neighborhood, no trace of them was ever 
 discovered. After this incident, Sir Archibald 
 Campbell furnished the house with a guard of 
 Sepoys during the night ; and as the rapid in- 
 crease of the population soon gave it a central 
 position in the town, the danger of such attacks 
 was very much lessened. 
 
 In a simple, child-like letter to a little sister, 
 dated December of the same year, Mrs. Board- 
 man writes : " I have a Sabbath-School of little 
 Burman girls, who are learning their catechism 
 and their prayers. We have no hymns in the 
 Burmese, or I should teach them hymns also.
 
 70 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 We have, beside this, a school during the 
 week," (Mrs. Wade's school, mostly from 
 Amherst,) " in which the tawny little girls 
 learn to read and sew. They are also learning 
 the multiplication table; and they are just 
 beginning the first part of the same arithmetic 
 which you study, translated into the language. 
 These poor little girls would have nobody to 
 tell them of God and of Christ, of heaven and 
 of hell, if there were no missionaries here. Are 
 you not glad that your sister Sarah has come 
 to tell them of these important things ?" 
 
 In January she announces, with earnest 
 warmth of language, the first baptism she had 
 looked upon in Burmah two native converts, 
 by the senior missionary ; she adds, " there is 
 also one more person, a Karen, who will prob- 
 ably soon be baptized. He is a poor man, 
 and has been for some time past in the employ 
 of Doct. Judson." Probably she did not know 
 that this poor man had formerly been one of 
 the most desperate of his race, a robber and a 
 murderer ; and, certainly, she could not fore- 
 see to what honour God had reserved him. 
 This singular man, whose first ideas of the 
 Christian religion were gleaned from a tract 
 presented him at Rangoon, was the famous 
 Ko Thah-Byoo; whose rough and undis-
 
 MAULMAIN. 71 
 
 ciplined genius, energy and zeal, have won for 
 him an enviable reputation, as one of the 
 boldest pioneers in the Karen mission. He 
 was, soon after this mention in the letter, ex- 
 amined and approved by the Maulmain church ; 
 and was baptized by Mr. Boardman on his 
 first arrival at Tavoy. 
 
 Perhaps something ought to be said of the 
 general character of Mrs. Boardman's letters, 
 if for no other reason, as an excuse for less 
 copious extracts than we could wish, and for 
 these being usually in fragments. She says 
 but little in them of herself her doings and 
 feelings ; but she seems full of interest in those 
 she addressed, sympathizing in their minutest 
 concerns, with that unselfish kindness which 
 is sweet to the recipient, though to a stranger 
 uninteresting. They must have been delicious 
 indeed to those she loved ; but, like some of 
 the most important passages in every human 
 life, they are not fitted for the public eye. 
 
 I have unfolded a letter, since finishing the 
 above sentence, in which every member of her 
 father's large family is thanked by name for 
 having written her ; and each allusion is ac- 
 companied by some affectionate comment, or 
 word of praise or encouragement, suited to the 
 age of her young correspondent. At last she
 
 72 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 says, " You must let the dear little twins and 
 my sweet sister, whom I have not seen, make 
 each a mark upon a paper, that I may hav^ 
 some token from their little hands." There is 
 something exceedingly touching in the affec- 
 tionate simplicity of this request, which will 
 not fail to find its way to many a heart. 
 
 It has been said of Mrs. Boardman, (though 
 referring to a much later period of her life,) 
 that she excelled in the maternal relation. 
 With her letter before me, and the various 
 anecdotes gathered from different sources, 
 fresh in memory, I cannot but conclude that 
 she excelled in all domestic relations. The 
 tender devotedness of the daughter, the affec- 
 tionate, sympathetic faithfulness of the sister, 
 (to say nothing of a tie yet stronger and 
 holier,) were only different developments of 
 the same character, which was perfected in 
 the mother. The following fragment, showing 
 how her thoughts still turned homeward, 
 though she says that the " wide world would 
 not induce her to return," is from a letter 
 written to her parents on the third anniversary 
 of their parting day. We give but a few of 
 the opening lines. 
 
 " I see the dear parental dwelling-place, 
 Where love and happiness were constant guests ;
 
 MAULMAIN. 73 
 
 I see my aged grandsire, seated near 
 That good old pilgrim who has been his joy, 
 Through many years of hope, and care, and pain ; 
 I see my dear, kind parents, side by side, 
 Smiling with pleased affection on the group 
 Of children sporting round the cheerful hearth ; 
 Oh, /was once of that most happy group !"
 
 HIE WO 
 
 TAVOY. 
 
 "Light for the darkened earth ! 
 
 Ye blessed, its beams who shed! 
 Shrink not till the day-spring hath its birth. 
 
 Till, wherever the footstep of man doth tread, 
 Salvation's banner spread widely forth. 
 Shall gild the dream of the cradle-bed, 
 And clear the tomb 
 From its lingering gloom, 
 For the aged to rest his weary head." 
 
 Mrs. Sigonrney. 
 
 T was at Tavoy, whither he repaired 
 in the spring of 1828, that Mr. Board- 
 man's missionary career really com- 
 menced. During their residence at Calcutta, 
 they had studied the language to great disad- 
 vantage ; and it required all the interval be- 
 tween their arrival at Amherst, and final 
 settlement at Tavoy, to learn to frame even 
 simple sentences, after a model so entirely new 
 to them. Then there were the organs of 
 speech to be disciplined to the utterance of
 
 TAVOY. 75 
 
 uncouth sounds never heard before, and in 
 which the slightest variation of tone or the 
 change of a letter, so alters the meaning of 
 the word, that the whole sentence is rendered 
 unintelligible.* Persons in America spend 
 many years over languages closely analogous 
 to our own, and then speak and write them 
 with difficulty. The acquisition of an Asiatic 
 language is a vastly more difficult thing ; but 
 many persons seem to suppose that the modern 
 missionary has received the miraculous gift of 
 tongues ; for they begin to look for " interest- 
 ing accounts," long before he can possibly be 
 qualified to judge between an inquirer and the 
 most open impostor, who smiles assent to sen- 
 
 # A somewhat ludicrous mistake of this nature fell 
 under my observation not long since. An English gen- 
 tleman, who had resided but a short time in Burmah, 
 remarked that he had learned two phrases the one 
 " go," (in the imperative,) and the other " make haste ;' 
 the first, he said, was always comprehended without 
 difficulty ; but the other, (smiling as he spoke, at the 
 characteristic indolence of the people,) was never un- 
 derstood they only turned around and stared vacantly 
 in his face. " What do you say for ' make haste T in- 
 quired a listener. "Myen! myen .'" was the ready 
 reply. He had changed the a to e, and so, when he 
 wished to hasten the movements of his servants, he 
 called out, " Horse '. horse .'" 
 
 7*
 
 76 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 timents he does not understand, while he 
 thinks he sees in prospective the anna, which 
 is to purchase to-morrow's food. 
 
 The Boardmans were met with another dif- 
 ficulty at Tavoy ; for the corrupt dialect of the 
 Tavoyens differed from the pure Burmese, 
 more widely than the worst of Canadian Patois 
 from the flowing language of the French capi- 
 tal ; and the women, more especially, could 
 not be made to comprehend a sentence without 
 a provincial interpreter. Mr. Boardman's first 
 work after his arrival was to baptize Ko Thah- 
 Byoo, the zealous Karen disciple already men- 
 tioned, and the next but we will quote from 
 Mrs. Boardman's letter to her sister : " My 
 dear husband has just been repairing an old 
 zayat, where he intends to spend a part of 
 each day in recommending the religion of our 
 blessed Saviour to all who will listen. He 
 enters upon public labours with fear and trem- 
 bling ; and I am assured that he has hope in 
 God, and in Him only. He has Burmese wor- 
 ship with the boys of the school," (four boys 
 who accompanied him from Maulmain,) " and 
 the two native assistants, every evening, and 
 also divine service each Lord's day morning." 
 What with ill health, necessary study, and 
 cares of a family, increased by the boys of the
 
 TAVOY. 77 
 
 boarding-school, it could not reasonably be 
 expected that Mrs. Boardman would find much 
 time for other duties. She, however, in the 
 words of her husband, after " Unwearied toil, 
 repeated repulses, and discouragements," suc- 
 ceeded in establishing a girls' school ; and as 
 soon as possible employed a woman, whom she 
 had herself taught to read, as an assistant. 
 She thus speaks of a visit to this school : " I 
 am just returned from one of the day-schools. 
 The sun had not risen when I arrived, but the 
 little girls were in the house ready for instruc- 
 tion. My walk to this school is through a re- 
 tired road, shaded on one side by the old wall of 
 the city, which is overgrown by wild creepers 
 and pole-flowers, and on the other by large 
 fruit-trees. While going and returning, I find 
 it sweet and profitable to think on the shortness 
 of time, the vanity of this delusive world and 
 oh ! I have had some precious views of that 
 world where the ' weary are at rest ;' and 
 where sin, that enemy of God, and now con- 
 stant disturber of my peace, will no more 
 afflict me." 
 
 The following quotation from another letter, 
 will give us a glimpse of the state of things a 
 few months later. She describes her own 
 station, by her table, in a little back verandah,
 
 78 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 and then goes on with her picture thus : " In 
 the room before me sits my dear husband, sur- 
 rounded by nine little heathen boys, to whom 
 he is imparting a knowledge of that gospel, 
 which can save from eternal ruin. On each 
 side of the house is a long verandah. In one 
 of these the native Christians are holding a 
 prayer-meeting in Burmese, and in the other 
 sits the Chinese convert, Kee Zea-Chung, 
 loudly urging three or four of his deluded 
 countrymen to turn from the worship of idols 
 to that of the true God." 
 
 In February, 1829, Mr. Boardman made his 
 first tour among the Karens ; leaving his wife, 
 who had but just recovered from an illness of 
 four months' duration, with her two little ones, 
 (the younger a son six months of age,) and 
 the boys' boarding-school. She is thus con- 
 soled by a Karen woman, the wife of Ko Thah- 
 Byoo: "Weep not, mama; the teacher has 
 gone on a message of compassion to my poor, 
 perishing countrymen. They have never heard 
 of the true God, and the love of his son 
 Jesus-Christ Christ, who died upon the cross 
 to save sinners. They know nothing of the 
 true religion, mama ; and when they die, they 
 cannot go to the golden country of the blessed. 
 
 \
 
 TAVOY. 79 
 
 God will take care of the teacher ; do not 
 weep, mama." 
 
 It may seem a weakness to weep an absence, 
 which is to be only of two or three weeks' 
 duration ; but one of the beauties of true 
 Christian heroism is the softness which it 
 always leaves upon the spirit. " I should have 
 no objection to seeing the woman I loved a 
 devout believer in these things," said an infidel 
 to me once in a public stage-coach ; " for there 
 is something in them which subdues the char- 
 acter, and produces a kind of tearful and yet 
 elevated tenderness, not to be lightly esteemed 
 in a cold, selfish world like this. I speak from 
 experience, for my wife is a Christian." But 
 partings among missionaries, where one goes 
 to endure privations and toils in an unexplored 
 jungle, and the other is left without a protector 
 in the midst of a large, idolatrous city, are 
 sadly unlike the same thing on Christian soil. 
 The consecration of the missionary, adds iron 
 to neither heart nor nerve. This is the same 
 delicate woman whom you would have hesi- 
 tated to leave alone in a civilized land, though 
 friends might have been within call from your 
 very door who would not have walked the 
 streets of a civilized city at nightfall without a 
 protector ! And what new armour has she
 
 80 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 now, that she should stand, perhaps thronged 
 by innumerable trials, with dusky faces about 
 her, and strange voices sounding in her ears ; 
 and not a lip to whisper, in the accents of her 
 native tongue, one single word of encourage- 
 ment and sympathy ? True, she may be left 
 with a little band of disciples, but with them 
 she has only one theme in common the sal- 
 vation of Jesus Christ and even in that 
 knowledge they are mere infants. The high 
 religious truths which she loves to contemplate, 
 are entirely beyond their grasp. Her refine- 
 ment, her sensitiveness, all the higher emotions 
 of heart and soul, are even farther from their 
 comprehension than her superiority of intellect 
 and systematic mental culture. Even her hor- 
 rour of crime, the black deeds which defile 
 the very atmosphere she breathes, they cannot 
 appreciate ; for, with the partially-cleared vis- 
 ion of a weak, ignorant, faltering disciple, 
 they yet see everything through the medium of 
 confirmed habit. What their fathers and 
 grandfathers did, and what they have done 
 unblushingly from childhood, loses its black- 
 ness in their eyes, although they know it to be 
 sin. Then, if sickness come, or any new 
 sorrow oh ! there is scarce a person on earth 
 so utterly desolate as the missionary's wife, left 
 
 \
 
 TAVOY. 81 
 
 alone with her cares but for the God above 
 her and in her heart. 
 
 It would be irrelevant to follow Mr. Board- 
 man, in his trackless march through the Karen 
 wilderness, however interesting must be such 
 a journey. Over hills, and across streams, ard 
 ravines almost impassable, he went ; the fierce, 
 wily tiger, crouching among the rocks, and 
 mischievous fairy Pucks, in the shape of grin- 
 ning, chattering monkeys, swinging from the 
 boughs overhead ; huge mountains stretching 
 far into the clouds, with the wild streamlets, 
 which fed some mighty river, dashing, bounding 
 and leaping from rock to rock, down their pre- 
 cipitous sides, like snow-wreaths gifted with the 
 spirit of life ; and, far down in the deep valley, 
 the calm Palouk, rolling slowly and gracefully 
 to its destination, like the river of the good 
 man's life, gliding through its earthly vale to 
 the ocean of a blessed eternity. Among 
 scenes like these, and others wilder and 
 darker, he went, scattering pearls of priceless 
 value in his way, greeting many a thirsty lip 
 with the waters of life, and waking in the dead 
 spirits of the wilderness, a pulse which never 
 beat there before. After two or three weeks 
 he returned, to endure one of the severest 
 trials of the missionary's life. The poison of
 
 CW MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 sin, which had once required the cauterizing 
 knife, previous to the commencement of this 
 tour, again made its appearance in his little 
 church ; and his sensitive spirit was wrung 
 with the bitterest anguish. Extreme sensitive- 
 ness, and distrust of self were, doubtless, the 
 occasion of much of the sorrow felt both by 
 Mr. and Mrs. Boardman. It was not merely 
 that the cause of Christ had been disgraced 
 through the defection of its supposed friends, 
 but they feared that the disgrace had been 
 somehow occasioned by their own unworthi- 
 ness or inefficiency. Mrs. Boardman, in par- 
 ticular, was roused and alarmed. From the 
 commencement of her residence in Calcutta, 
 up to the present time, her capacity for reli- 
 gious enjoyment had been but little enlarged, 
 and her attainments in spirituality were of no 
 high order. Still, her self-accusations, though 
 sincere, could not have been deserved. Some- 
 thing of the acuteness of her feelings may be 
 learned from a letter to Mrs. Bolles. It is full 
 of the bitterest self-upbraidings, and there is a 
 spirit of the deepest humiliation breathing in 
 every line. 
 
 " Some of these poor Burmans," she says, 
 " who are daily carried to the grave, may at 
 last reproach me, and say, ' you came, it is
 
 TAVOY. 83 
 
 true, to the city where we dwelt, to tell of 
 heaven and hell, but wasted much, much of 
 your precious time in indolence, while acquir- 
 ing our language. And, when you were able 
 to speak, why were you not incessantly telling 
 us of this day of doom, when we visited you ? 
 why, oh why did you ever speak of any other 
 thing while we were ignorant of the most mo- 
 mentous of all truths ? Oh ! how could you 
 think on anything but our salvation? How 
 could you sleep, or allow yourself anything 
 like ease or comfort, while we were perish- 
 ing, and you knew a Being who could save 
 us, and that Being had promised to grant the 
 petition of his children ? You told us that He 
 was your Father, that He heard your lowest 
 whispers and most secret sighs why, then, 
 did you not, day and night, entreat Him in our 
 behalf?' 
 
 Mr. Boardman will tell you of the heart- 
 rending afflictions which we have been called 
 to endure in our little church. Our hearts 
 have almost bled with anguish, and mine has 
 sunk lower than the grave, for I have felt that 
 my unworthiness has been the cause of all our 
 calamities." 
 
 This trial, which only one class of readers, 
 (Aeart-christians,) will be able to appreciate,
 
 84 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ended in a blessing ; for from this time, the 
 things of heaven began to gain a stronger and 
 firmer hold upon her heart, and a domestic 
 calamity, which soon followed, gave, even 
 while its shadow lay heaviest, additional value 
 to the blessing. 
 
 In the spring of 1829, Mrs. Boardman was 
 again visited by severe illness, and her physical 
 constitution became so much impaired, that 
 she was unable to rally, as on former occasions. 
 Her infant son, too, was a pale, puny creature, 
 with his father's spiritual look the same deli- 
 cate fashioning of feature and transparency of 
 complexion, and the same blue veins crossing 
 the temples. And the father was not quite 
 like his former self. His cheeks were a little 
 more hollow, and the colour on them more 
 flickering ; his eyes were brighter, and seem- 
 ingly more deeply set beneath the brow, and 
 immediately below them was a faint, indistinct 
 arc of mingled ash and purple, like the shadow 
 of a fading leaf; his lips were sometimes of a 
 clayey pallor, and sometimes they glowed with 
 crimson ; and his fingers were long, and the 
 hands of a partially transparent thinness. 
 None of the family were in health, except the 
 " rosy little daughter," the " bright, beautiful 
 darling Sarah Ann," as she was fondly named
 
 TAVOY. 85 
 
 in many a letter ; and she was their joy and 
 pride. A short trip to Mergui, sea-air and sea- 
 bathing proved beneficial to them, however, 
 and they returned to their toil with renewed 
 strength and vigour. 

 
 LITTLE SARAH. 
 
 " He gazed at the flowers -with tearful eyes, 
 He kissed their drooping leaves ; 
 
 It -was for the Lord of Paradise, 
 He bound them in his sheaves. 
 
 ord has need of'these flowerets gay,' 
 The Reapers said, and smiled; 
 Dear tokens of the earth are they, 
 Where he was once a child," 
 
 LovgfeUo 
 
 ARAH is as plump and rosy-cheeked 
 as we could wish. Oh! how delighted 
 you would be to see her, and hear her 
 prattle! Thus wrote the mother in her hap- 
 piness ; and, in a little more than two weeks 
 after, she saw her darling, speechless and mo- 
 tionless, in her little shroud. " I knew all the 
 time," says the bereaved parent, "that she 
 was very ill ; but it did not once occur to me 
 that she might die, till she was seized with the 
 apoplexy, about three hours before she closed
 
 LITTLE SARAH. 87 
 
 her eyes upon us for ever. Oh ! the agony of 
 that moment !" And in that agonized moment, 
 as the shadow of eternity fell upon the spirit 
 of the little- sufferer, and a vista, which her 
 eye could not discern, but from which her 
 failing nature instinctively recoiled, opened 
 before her, she looked with anxious alarm 
 into her mother's face, and exclaimed : 
 " I frightened ! mama ! I frightened !" What a 
 strange thing is death . The tender nursling, 
 who in moments of even imagined ill, had 
 clung to the mother's bosom, and been shel- 
 tered in her arms, now hovered over a dark, 
 unfathomed gulf, and turned pleadingly to the 
 same shield but it had failed. The mother's 
 arm was powerless ; her foot could not follow ; 
 and the trembling babe passed on alone, to 
 find her fears allayed on an angel's bosom. 
 Mrs. Boardman followed her first-born to the 
 grave with faltering steps, and then returned 
 to her other stricken child. " He lay," she 
 says, " feeble and emaciated, in the arms of 
 his nurse ; and, for the first time since he was 
 two months old, refused to notice us. On the 
 next Sabbath night, we watched him till morn- 
 ing, expecting every breath to be his last. But 
 our Heavenly Father is kind, and he did not 
 take from us both our blossoms." The fol- 
 8*
 
 88 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 lowing remembrances, penned nearly a year 
 after the sorrowful bereavement, are for the eye 
 of mothers, whose thoughts turn often to a 
 little grave, and then back to the bounding 
 life and infantine endearments, which preceded 
 its solemn stillness. 
 
 " Our little Sarah left us July 8th, of last 
 year aged two years and eight months. * * * 
 She was a singularly lovely child. Her bright 
 blue eyes, yellow hair, and rosy cheeks, formed 
 a striking contrast to the little dark faces 
 around her ; and I often said 
 
 Thou art a sweet and fragrant flower, 
 
 'Mid poisonous, vile weeds blooming ; 
 A lovely star, whose cheering power 
 Makes glad the heavy-footed hour, 
 When midnight clouds are glooming. 
 
 From the time she began to notice anything, 
 we were the objects of her fondest love. If 
 she thought she had incurred our displeasure, 
 her tender heart seemed ready to burst ; and 
 she could not rest for a moment, until she had 
 said she was ' sorry,' and obtained the kiss of 
 forgiveness. She had learned to obey us im- 
 plicitly. * * * Always when she saw us 
 kneeling to pray, she would come and kneel 
 beside us. On observing me one day going to
 
 . LITTLE SARAH. 89 
 
 a small house for prayer, near the spot where 
 her precious dust now sleeps, she said to 
 Marian and Rosina, 'Go back ! I will go alone 
 with mama to pray 1' She followed me to the 
 place, and as soon as she entered it, threw her- 
 self on her knees and commenced praying. 
 
 She was an exceedingly sensitive child. 
 She was not only afflicted at sight of our 
 tears, but even a sorrowful look from us melted 
 her tender heart, and incited her to do all in 
 her power to alleviate our sorrows. If we 
 frowned upon her conduct she wept, kissed us, 
 and refrained from committing the same fault 
 again. If either of us was ill, her heart 
 seemed overflowing with grief; and she would 
 say, in tones of touching tenderness, ' Mama, ' 
 (or papa,) ' ill Sarah very sad. Mama can- 
 not take Sarah now.' And she would come and 
 stroke our foreheads with her little soft hand, 
 and kiss us so affectionately ! Her love to her 
 little brother George was unlimited. From 
 the day of his birth till the day but one before 
 she died, he was her idol. If she wanted any- 
 thing ever so much, only tell her it was for 
 Georgie, and that was enough to satisfy her. 
 She never envied him an article of dress or 
 food, or a play-thing, but would always resign 
 her choicest toys to her dear little brother.
 
 90 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Three days before she died, she was lying 
 uneasily in a large swing cradle, and George 
 was in the same room, crying. We thought it 
 might soothe the little sufferer, for he was also 
 very ill, to lay him down beside Sarah. The 
 proposal delighted her ; with smiles she threw 
 open her little arms, and, for the last time, 
 held her darling brother in her fond embrace. 
 So great was her gratification at this privilege, 
 that she seemed to forget her own pains. 
 
 Little Sarah spoke English remarkably well 
 for so young a child, and Burmese, like a 
 native ; she could also say some things in the 
 Hindostanee and Karen. And what seems a 
 little singular, she never confounded two lan- 
 guages, but always spoke pure English to us, 
 and pure Burmese to Burmans. This dis- 
 crimination continued as long as she had the 
 powers of speech. She had learned the 
 Lord's prayer and several little hymns. Dr. 
 Judson's lines on the death of Mee-Shway-ee 
 she knew by heart in Burmese, and used 
 to chant them for half an hour at a time. 
 She had nearly learned the Burman and English 
 alphabets, and could repeat the names of the 
 months, days of the week, and a part of the 
 multiplication-table, in Burmese. These things 
 may seem very trivial to you, but I muse upon
 
 LITTLE SARAH. 91 
 
 them by the hour together; and it is only 
 when I call my cooler judgment into action, 
 that I can make myself believe they are unin- 
 teresting to any person on earth. I love to 
 think of my sweet bird of immortality, expand- 
 ing so beautifully in my own presence ; and 
 fancy I can judge, in some small degree, of the 
 brilliancy of the perfect flower, from these 
 little developments. 
 
 A few hours before she died, she called us 
 to her, kissed us, and passed her dear hand, 
 still full and dimpled, as in health, softly over 
 our faces. The pupils of her eye were so 
 dilated that she could not see us distinctly, and 
 once, for a moment or two, her mind seemed 
 to be wandering ; then looking anxiously into 
 my face, she said, * I frightened, mama ! I 
 frightened !' * * * Oh ! with what feelings 
 did I wash and dress her lovely form for the 
 last time, and compose her perfect little limbs ; 
 and then see her the dear child, which had 
 so long lain in my bosom borne away to her 
 newly-made grave. My heart grew faint when 
 I thought that I had performed for her my last of- 
 fice of love ; that she would never need a mo- 
 ther's hand again. My dear husband performed 
 the funeral service with an aching, though not 
 desponding heart. The grave is in our own en-
 
 92 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 closure, about fifteen rods from the house a 
 beautiful, retired spot, in a grove of Gangau 
 trees. Near it is a little Bethel, erected for 
 private devotion. Thither we have often re- 
 paired ; and we trust that God, who in his infi- 
 nite wisdom has taken our treasure to himself, 
 often meets us there." 
 
 " It never once occurred to me," wrote Mrs. 
 Boardman, while seated by the shrouded form 
 of her dead child, (thus opening her oppressed 
 heart to a friend, who had known something 
 of her religious state previous to this,) " It 
 never once occurred to me, all the time my 
 child was with me, that she could die ; she 
 seemed always so full of life and health." In 
 the depths of grief and lowly penitence, were 
 these words penned, for the stricken mourner 
 attempted no excuse. She hesitated not to 
 acknowledge, that it was a strange, an almost 
 incredible forgetfulness, and that her bereave- 
 ment, bitter as it was, was a reminder from 
 Heaven, sent, not only in justice, but in mercy ; 
 and in tearful, repentant, sorrowing humility, 
 she bowed beneath her Father's rod, grateful 
 for the love which directed the blow, though 
 it descended crushingly upon her spirit. She 
 knew that this affliction was sent to call back 
 her wandering heart to its place, the foot of
 
 LITTLE SARAH. 93 
 
 the Cross ; and with the confiding submission 
 of a little child, she obeyed the summons. 
 
 A single errour, which had stolen upon her 
 insensibly, through the speculative conversa- 
 tions of a friend, to whose opinions she yielded 
 much deference, had contributed, in a great 
 degree, to keep her in a state of spiritual 
 darkness. The poison, (for it can be called 
 no less,) was imbibed in America, though its 
 workings could not appear, while she was sur- 
 rounded by Christian friends, and while no- 
 thing occurred to wear away her zeal. But 
 during her residence in Calcutta, it had crept 
 into her spirit imperceptibly, and the living 
 principle had been thus deprived of its activity. 
 She had lost the eye of faith, which discerns 
 the finger of the Almighty in the minute con- 
 cerns of life. She did not believe that the 
 great Jehovah condescends to regard our go- 
 ing-out and our coming-in, our lying-down and 
 our rising-up ; that he watches momentarily 
 over our individual good, and marks out our 
 paths in flowery ways, or sharpens the thorns 
 beneath our feet, as He sees will best contri- 
 bute to that good. She, of course, never 
 doubted a general superintending Providence ; 
 but she could not reconcile the vastness of His 
 power, who holds the reins of the universe in
 
 94 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 His hand, with the minute care, which wings 
 the little bird, feather by feather, counts out 
 human life by pulsations, and maintains a yet 
 tender and more watchful supervision over His 
 own peculiar people. But when the child, on 
 which she doted, was removed from her sight, 
 there was something in her heart, which told 
 her by whose hand, and for what purpose, this 
 desolation had been wrought. The worldling 
 would have seen nothing in it but the fulfilling 
 of a universal law of nature ; but, by the light 
 that had not been extinguished in her spirit, 
 she read, in the sad characters of the grave, a 
 message to herself. She knew that the omnis- 
 cient God, whose care had been over her per- 
 sonally, though she had scarce discerned it, 
 through happy years, had planned and wrought 
 this seeming ill for the deepest good. And 
 from that moment, her vision was cleared ; 
 and she learned to wait, and watch, and obey, 
 as a little child looks to his father's face, and 
 reads his will in smiles or frowns, or in the 
 glances of the eye. And bearing with her, 
 ever after, this sweet trustfulness, she passed 
 through other severer trials, sometimes with 
 weeping eye, but never with a fainting heart. 
 With the monarch-minstrel of Israel, she could 
 say, " Though I walk through the valley of
 
 LITTLE SARAH. 95 
 
 the shadow of death, I will fear no evil ; Thy 
 rod and Thy staff, they comfort me." 
 
 Of little George, after his recovery, Mrs. 
 Boardman writes : " We have a fine, healthy 
 boy ; but I do not allow myself to idolize him, 
 as I did his dear departed sister. In her dis- 
 solution, we saw such a wreck of all that was 
 lovely and beautiful, that I think we shall 
 henceforth be kept from worshipping the crea- 
 ture." Well was it, that the mother had 
 placed this guard over her heart, for she had 
 need of it. In the succeeding January, an- 
 other precious- bud was given to her bosom ; 
 and, in less than a year after, that, too, was 
 " bound in the sheaf" of the " reaper, death." 
 But previous to this, before little George had 
 lifted his head from his pillow of pain, or a 
 green blade had sprung up on Sarah's grave, 
 came events fearfully spirit-stirring ; and to 
 these we will now return.
 
 THE REVOLT. 
 
 Ah me ! there *wa,s a smell of death, 
 Hung round us night and day." 
 
 Mary Uovritt. 
 
 T the dead hour of night, in the 
 early part of the succeeding month 
 S^HEj? of August, a lad belonging to the 
 boarding-school was awakened by a party of 
 men from the jungle, passing near the house, 
 which was just without the city walls, by the 
 northern gate. It was not a strange incident ; 
 but the boy had sufficient curiosity to peep 
 through the crevices in the braided bamboo 
 walls of his sleeping-room, and watch them 
 till they had gained admittance to the town. 
 This party was, from time to time, followed by 
 several others, who talked in low tones of lost 
 buffaloes, of which they seemed to be in 
 search, till the wondering watcher began to
 
 THE REVOLT. 97 
 
 believe that all the herds of the jungle must 
 have abjured their leafy homes, in favour of a 
 town residence. It did not escape the lad's 
 notice, that the shadows of the distant trees 
 were strangely like living men, and that little 
 knots of real men were collecting here and 
 there, where there were no shadows, all in 
 busy consultation ; and, from time to time, 
 making violent gestures, and pointing towards 
 the gate, through which the buffalo-seekers 
 had passed, and then to the top of the wall, 
 and then^ he might be mistaken, but he thought 
 they pointed to the house of his master. His 
 hair began to rise, and his timid heart to 
 flutter, when lo ! a fierce yell from a hundred 
 savage voices, answered by a few straggling 
 shots ; and he saw, in the gray of coming 
 morning, a thin cloud of black smoke eddying 
 away over the town-wall. 
 
 " Dawai tah ! Dawai tah !"* cried, in the same 
 instant, a voice, which seemed close beside 
 him ; " ho-o-o ! tzayah, tzayah ! Dawai tah !" 
 and the frail house jarred with the rattling of 
 doors and windows. 
 
 Mr. Boardman had been aroused from a 
 sound sleep, and not comprehending the sud- 
 
 * (Provincial,) Tavoy has risen !
 
 98 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 den uproar, threw open his door, and stood 
 upon the threshold, armed for the defence of 
 his family. 
 
 " No ! no !" again shouted the friendly 
 voice ; " you understand not ! Tavoy has 
 risen all the province is in arms ! Be quiet, 
 teacher ; you can do no good !" Tavoy in 
 rebellion ! this was indeed alarming informa- 
 tion ; for a more defenceless town was never 
 in possession of powerful conquerors. No 
 English troops had been stationed there ; and 
 there were only about a hundred sepoys, who, 
 arranged with the most consummate military 
 skill, man by man, could not occupy the entire 
 wall of the long, straggling city. They 
 mounted a few small field-pieces ; but the gun- 
 ner was ill, and the English officer in command 
 of the detachment was known to be on his 
 death-bed. To complete the helplessness of 
 their condition, Col. Burney, who was both 
 military and civil chief, was absent at Maul- 
 main ; and the direction of affairs at this ter- 
 rible crisis devolved on a very young physician, 
 with no adviser but Mrs. Burney. 
 
 While Mr. Boardman took this rapid view 
 of the state of the besieged town, the firing 
 and the hideous yells continued with unabated 
 vigour. It was soon ascertained that a party
 
 THE REVOLT. 99 
 
 of two hundred men, armed with clubs, knives, 
 spears, and occasionally a musket, had rushed 
 upon the powder-magazine and gun-shed, 
 which were defended by a guard of six sepoys 
 only, and under a native officer. The brave 
 fellows knew that to lose these was to yield 
 the town at once; and they firmly opposed 
 their trained-skill, few as they were, to the 
 ill-regulated force of their numerous assailants. 
 The magazine was very near the gate, and 
 Mr. Boardman was just beginning to apprehend 
 danger from the flight of the bullets in the 
 direction of his house ; when another cause 
 for alarm presented itself. Parties had been 
 gathering beneath the walls from every direc- 
 tion ; and now one of these paused close by 
 his own compound, as though for consultation. 
 He saw their dusky visages turned in the 
 direction of his home, and their dark eyes 
 gleaming fiercely, as they leaned upon their 
 spears ; and their expressive gestures told him 
 that the fate of his little family depended on 
 that moment. He was a peaceful man, but he 
 carried a white face, and wore the costume of 
 the English. His trembling wife caught her 
 pale, emaciated infant to her bosom, and hur- 
 ried to a low wooden shed, beyond the house, 
 open on the least exposed side. Here she 
 9*
 
 100 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 crouched upon the floor, to escape the bullets, 
 which she imagined were passing above her ; 
 while her husband, with the boy-watcher of 
 the night before, waited the result within. But 
 the party dispersed without attempting harm ; 
 and in about an hour the victorious sepoys 
 were in possession of all the city gates. The 
 insurgents were successfully repulsed, and 
 retreated beyond the city walls, leaving sixty 
 slain, and their leader a prisoner. In the 
 meantime, other parties of the rebels had been 
 going about the town, committing various de- 
 predations ; and a hundred desperate wretches, 
 loosed from the fetters imposed by English 
 justice, sprang from the city prisons with the 
 eagerness of blood-hounds on the scent. 
 
 Mr. Boardman seized the moment of quiet, 
 succeeding the repulse of the magazine party, 
 to flee, with his wife and child, to the Govern- 
 ment-House ; where they were most kindly 
 received by the intrepid lady-commander. The 
 first business of the sepoys was to secure arms 
 and ammunition. Three cannons, and a suffi- 
 cient quantity of gunpowder, were conveyed 
 to a large wooden building on the wharf; and 
 the remainder of the powder was thrown into 
 wells within the town. This operation, re- 
 tarded by almost incessant skirmishing, occu-
 
 THE REVOLT. 101 
 
 pied all the time till three o'clock, when the 
 foreigners put themselves in readiness to evacu- 
 ate the town ; for the attempt of a hundred men 
 to hold it against twenty times their number, 
 would have been madness. The Chinese, who 
 had built their shops without the town, along 
 the river side, constituted a party of exclusives, 
 probably fifty in number, professing neutrality ; 
 but still they hung upon the skirts of the Eng- 
 lish, in a manner to insure present safety, and 
 escape any special odium, if the insurrection 
 should, in the end, prove unsuccessful. A 
 few Portuguese traders joined the foreign 
 party, not with the expectation of rendering 
 any assistance, but to gain protection for them- 
 selves and families ; and one wily old Mussul- 
 man, who knew enough of the English to see 
 how the affair must necessarily terminate, 
 seized gladly on what seemed to him a golden 
 opportunity, and lent his aid wherever he 
 could be most serviceable. There were but 
 three Englishmen, beside Mr. Boardman ; and 
 Mrs. Burney and Mrs. Boardman were the 
 only ladies. At another time this singular 
 procession, as it passed beyond the gate of the 
 city, must needs have won a smile from an 
 anchorite. The dark line of native soldiers, 
 in their Indian uniform, the mulatto-faced
 
 102 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Portuguese, the keen-eyed Mussulman, the 
 long train of women and children, attached to 
 the sepoys and others, stripped of the orna- 
 ments which might have roused the cupidity 
 of the enemy, and in the meanest, filthiest 
 apparel, and the handful of English, with their 
 troop of Burmese and Hindoo servants, con- 
 stituted a singularly motley company. But 
 Mrs. Boardman, as she hurried on her way, 
 now startled from her forced calmness by the 
 hideous yells of the insurgents, or the report 
 of musketry from the defenders of her own 
 party, and again half-springing from her path 
 as her gaze fell upon the glazed, staring eyes 
 and bleeding wounds of the dead beside it, 
 was in no condition to take note of trivial cir- 
 cumstances. One apparition, however, excited 
 her attention, even then the figure of a man, 
 the very personification of death, as he often 
 comes in an Indian climate, seated on a led 
 horse, at the head of the small detachment. 
 It was the English commander, who had been 
 hurried from his bed to escape the massacre ; 
 and who hoped, by appearing in his. saddle 
 once more before his men, to give them some 
 little encouragement. But his face was thin 
 and cadaverous, his complexion almost orange 
 in hue, and his eye sunk deeply in its socket ;
 
 THE REVOLT. 103 
 
 and as Mrs. Boardman looked on his bent, 
 skeleton figure, swaying helplessly to every 
 motion of the animal he bestrode, the sight 
 added a kind of indefinite horrour to her im- 
 pressions of their imminent peril. 
 
 The building on the wharf, in which the 
 powder had been deposited, was the retreat 
 chosen ; and such a retreat ! Between three 
 and four hundred persons, with the arms, am- 
 munition, provisions, and necessary baggage 
 for all, huddled together under one roof per- 
 sons of different sexes, grades, and nations, 
 forming a disagreeable medley, which it is im- 
 possible for one, not conversant with East- 
 Indian scenes, to appreciate. In this company 
 Mrs. Boardman sat down to soothe her pale 
 little sufferer, whose moans of pain now fell 
 more heavily on her aching heart than the 
 sounds of bloodshed without ; for how could 
 his failing life be sustained in this terrible 
 place? Beside her, was Mrs. Burney, with 
 her infant son but three weeks old, and these 
 two seemed, in that crowded, miserable place, 
 almost like beings from another world. 
 
 Some of the sepoys found shelter within the 
 building, and some in an old shed or two close 
 by ; and here for a little time, all breathed 
 more freely. Flying parties of the enemy
 
 104 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 would now and then attempt an attack, but 
 they were not allowed to come near enough to 
 to use their spears, and but little danger was 
 to be apprehended from their muskets. There 
 was time now for cool consultation, and the 
 singular little war-council was conferring to- 
 gether, when a loud report, as of a cannon, 
 turned every visage black with dismay. A 
 groan broke from the crouching figures that 
 crammed the building, and the boldest and 
 calmest felt their blood pause, and then creep 
 chillingly along its channels. 
 
 " They have mounted the cannon, and we 
 are lost !" was the simultaneous exclamation, 
 in various tongues. It had scarce been uttered, 
 before a man stood without the building with 
 a glass at his eye. 
 
 " What is it ?" 
 
 "A jinjal."* 
 
 " Does it bear upon us ?" 
 
 " Yes directly." 
 
 A stifled groan a rustling, rushing sound, 
 as the women threw themselves on their faces, 
 in the oriental style of abandonment to grief 
 and then a momentary pause. 
 
 " What are they doing now ?" 
 
 *A small Burman field-piece.
 
 THE REVOLT. 105 
 
 " Mounting other pieces but but " 
 
 " But what 1" impatiently. 
 
 " I do not think they will succeed in bring- 
 ing them within range of us. Ah! they are 
 loading again." 
 
 A breathless silence of a few moments suc- 
 ceeded, broken by another report. 
 
 " What direction did it take ? where did it 
 strike ?" were the eager inquiries, while heads 
 were stretched forward with greedy anxiety to 
 catch the answer. 
 
 " It passed above us." 
 
 " Thank God !" came in an indistinct mur- 
 mur from a few lips, drowned in exclamations 
 of a different character from the crowd. 
 
 " They will aim lower next time." 
 
 " Five minutes were passed in the most pro- 
 found silence, and then another ball sped over 
 the ridge of the thatched roof, and spent itself 
 upon the water." 
 
 " They will aim better they will soon 
 learn." 
 
 " Where is the sun 1" 
 
 " Gone ; not down, but hidden by the 
 trees." 
 
 A deep-drawn breath announced the relief 
 which this answer had conveyed ; for the long 
 twilights of northern lands are unknown in
 
 106 MEMOIR OF SARAH 
 
 Burmah, and the firing must needs cease with 
 the coming of darkness. 
 
 Night closed about them at last, though it 
 seemed with unusual slowness ; but it brought 
 no cessation of dangers. The stillness was 
 broken by the fierce yells of frequent assail- 
 ants ; and the attempts to fire the frail wooden 
 building, made doubly alarming by the presence 
 of gunpowder, were incessant. It was past 
 midnight, when a small boat shot from the black 
 shadows that lay along the shore, dropped silent- 
 ly a few rods farther down the stream, and then 
 crept under the crowded building on the rising 
 tide. The next moment the quick eye of the 
 sepoy detected a sparkle of fire through a crevice 
 in the floor ; and stooping lower, and steadying 
 his gaze, till his vision became accustomed to 
 the obscurity, he gained a full view of the 
 figure of the incendiary, in the execution of 
 his terrible design. He raised himself, and 
 applied the muzzle of his musket to the 
 crevice. A scream from those nearest 
 (for the act had been too sudden to be 
 stood,) and a heavy splash in the water fol- 
 lowed the report ; and in a few moments, an 
 empty boat was discovered floating away on 
 the surface of the river. 
 
 Morning broke upon a weary, half-fainting,
 
 THE REVOLT. 107 
 
 dispirited company ; and, by its first light, a 
 woman was discovered rocking to and fro, 
 with a dead child upon her knees. It had 
 been suffocated during the accumulated hor- 
 rours of the night. 
 
 At daylight the firing from the walls was 
 renewed, and now the unsuccessful marksman 
 had all day for practice. But it came at long 
 intervals; for the repulse at the magazine had 
 very much weakened the rebels, by depriving 
 them of powder ; and that which they manu- 
 factured was scarce fit for use. Still the 
 trembling party on the wharf was in imminent 
 danger ; for if the piece could once be well- 
 aimed, it would continue to pour an incessant 
 fire upon them, without mercy. Thus passed 
 two more days, and thus passed, in still greater 
 danger, two sleepless nights, till the fifth eve- 
 ning, from the night of the revolt, darkened. 
 This was a terrible night. On three sides of 
 them curled the red flames from burning 
 houses ; and just as it rose highest, filling the 
 air with showers of glittering sparkles, a band 
 of five hundred men raised the terrible war-cry, 
 and rushed from the open spaces between the 
 blaze, upon their intended victims. But at 
 that moment a heavy shower of rain descended, 
 and quenched the flames ; while the faithful 
 10
 
 108 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 sepoys gave their assailants a reception which 
 forced them again to flee. But hope came not 
 with the victory. The troops were ill from 
 fatigue, and exposure to the drenching rains 
 and burning suns of August ; and worse still, 
 they were utterly disheartened. The provis- 
 ions, which had not been stored with a view to 
 so great a number, had been dealt out spar- 
 ingly for the last day, and were now nearly 
 exhausted ; and the entire company, men, wo- 
 men and children, drooped in almost hopeless 
 discouragement. It was impossible to convey 
 intelligence to Mergui or Maulmain, for the 
 single brig lying at anchor was not sea-worthy ; 
 and thougii a small junk had been wrested 
 from a company of Chinamen, there was no 
 hope of being able to get it under weigh with 
 a living man on board. With the light of day, 
 the firing from the wall again commenced, and 
 continued almost incessantly ; and now death 
 seemed to be looking into the crowded building 
 from every quarter. 
 
 It was after sunrise when the young physician 
 came hastily, and beckoned Mrs. Burney to 
 the door. A little cloud, like smoke, had 
 appeared in the horizon ; and the lady trembled 
 as she had not, at the firing of the cannon or 
 the attacks of the enemy.
 
 THE REVOLT. 109 
 
 " I think I think I do not know !" she 
 exclaimed, hurriedly ; while eager gazers gath- 
 ered near, and fixed their eyes on the same 
 object. 
 
 " The steamer ! the steamer !" at length was 
 the simultaneous cry, and the air resounded 
 with shouts of joy. As Col. Burney leaped to 
 the wharf in the most profound astonishment 
 at the strange uproar, he encountered his wife 
 and infant child, then glanced his eye on the 
 swarming building, then up the city wall, and 
 he comprehended at once the whole scene. 
 The energetic officer lost not a moment's 
 time ; and long before the sun set, the little 
 steam-vessel was puffing on her way back to 
 Maulmain, with the two worn-out ladies rest- 
 ing (oh ! what a luxury was that rest!) in her 
 cabin. Several shots were fired after her, as 
 she left the wharf, but the balls either missed 
 their aim, or spent themselves on the water. 
 Great was the consternation when the news 
 reached Maulmain. The roll of the drum 
 was heard all night in the busy cantonments ; 
 and by peep of day, the vessel was again under 
 weigh, laden with European soldiers. 
 
 In the meantime, neither Col. Burney nor 
 his men had been idle. His presence infused 
 new life into the troops; and many of the
 
 
 110 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 sick crept from their damp, mouldy mats, and 
 took their places again in the ranks. He im- 
 mediately commenced throwing up a breast- 
 work ; but the firing from the wall was such a 
 constant source of annoyance, that he at last 
 conceived the bold design of scaling it, and 
 taking possession of the guns. Followed by a 
 trusty band of sepoys, he was under the walls, 
 before the rebels had suspected his intentions ; 
 and with a rapidity of movement for which 
 they were entirely unprepared, and which stu- 
 pified them, by its unexpectedness, he com- 
 menced his ascent. Just as his head appeared 
 above the wall a well-aimed blow sent him 
 reeling backward, but he scarce lost his foot- 
 ing, and though stunned and half-blinded, he 
 was almost the first to encounter the few who 
 dared to resist the assault. In a few moments 
 the jinjal, which had occasioned the most 
 trouble, was hurled from its position, and with 
 the other guns was instantly conveyed to the 
 wharf by the now friendly Chinese. Elated 
 by this success, neither the officer nor his men 
 could sit down quietly and wait for assistance ; 
 and so, by the time Maulmain was ringing 
 with the news of the revolt, Tavoy was in pos- 
 session of the brave Englishman and his faith- 
 ful sepoys. In an incredibly short time, the
 
 THE REVOLT. Ill 
 
 bold leader of the revolt, (who boasted royal 
 blood, and had built his plans on a broader 
 basis than was at the time suspected,) was 
 seized, and with several of his companions, 
 received sentence of death, from a court-mar- 
 tial. And while Mr. Boardman stepped aside 
 to hide his own emotion, as well as to escape 
 the entreaties with which the poor wretches 
 assailed him, as they clung to his knees, in the 
 agony of their despair, four human beings 
 passed from the flush and strength of manhood, 
 into an eternity of which they had scarce 
 heard. The city prison, too, was crowded 
 with rebels, awaiting the sentence of a civil 
 tribunal ; and thirty of these afterward shared 
 the fate of their leader and his companions. 
 
 All property that could not be appropriated, 
 had been cut to pieces and destroyed, in the 
 most wanton manner ; and while those who 
 had fled to the wharf, were endeavoring to find 
 something worth saving in the wreck of their 
 goods, the other inhabitants were coming in, 
 family by family, with the white flag of peace 
 in their hands. And thus the reinforcement 
 from Maulmain found those whom they had 
 expected to deliver from an extremity of 
 peril, gayly wearing the laurels which imagin- 
 10*
 
 112 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ation had already twined around their own 
 brows. 
 
 The infant of the English lady was of an 
 age too tender to survive scenes like the fore- 
 going ; and soon after gaining a place of 
 safety, it closed its eyes in death. But Mrs. 
 Boardman's little George seemed almost mirac- 
 ulously to have escaped from harm. His ill- 
 ness had made her doubly vigilant, and she 
 had guarded him night and day, with unsur- 
 passed care, placing her own bosom between 
 him and every kind of suffering. It was to 
 this unceasing watchfulness, perhaps, that she 
 owed the long, tedious illness, which ensued, 
 during the four or five months previous to the 
 birth of a second son, the bud already men- 
 tioned, as having been so early twined in the 
 same wreath with his sainted sister.* And 
 there was yet another sufferer. The suffoca- 
 ting air, the damp, dirty floor, and the walls 
 all dripping with moisture, were laden with 
 consumption to those whose constitutions were 
 predisposed to this most insidious of diseases ; 
 
 # This child, which died at the age of nine and a 
 half months, was named Judson Wade ; and thus, rather 
 oddly, bore, in the order of their seniority in the mis- 
 sion, the names of the three who had been associated at 
 Amherst and Maulmain.
 
 THE REVOLT. 113 
 
 and Mr. Boardman's cough grew hollow, his 
 voice husky, the shadow beneath his eye 
 darker, the cheek more glowing, the eye more 
 brilliant, the frame weaker, and heavy with 
 faintnes?, and the spirit purer and more enthu- 
 siastic. He was very near his eternal home.
 
 WITHERING AND WATCHINS. 
 
 " Come to the land of peace I 
 Come where the tempest hath no longer sway. 
 The shadow passes from the soul away. 
 
 The sounds of weeping cease !" 
 
 $frs. Heuians. 
 
 HE angel-call, to which the sweet 
 poetess has given words, was writ- 
 ten on lip, cheek, and forehead of 
 the failing missionary ; but yet the fire of life 
 went out so slowly, spark by spark, that the 
 process was for a long time scarce visible to 
 any, but the eye of love. He still pursued his 
 labours with ever-growing enthusiasm now 
 itinerating about the villages bordering Tavoy, 
 and now taking a long tour among the Karen 
 mountains, until compelled to forego the 
 spirit-stirring employments and watch by the 
 pillow of his suffering wife. In January, Mrs.
 
 WITHERING ^ND WATCHING. 115 
 
 Boardman appeared to be upon the verge of 
 the grave. A little after she rallied slightly ; 
 and in March took a voyage to Maulmain, 
 where she still continued to improve. In 
 April she was joined by her husband ; his 
 presence being necessary to supply, in some 
 degree, the places of Messrs. Judson and 
 Wade, who had left their station, for a time, in 
 favour of Burmah Proper. 
 
 In June, Mrs. Boardman thus writes a friend, 
 " My dear husband is suffering from a distres- 
 sing cough, which the doctor says is undoubt- 
 edly occasioned by an affection of the lungs. 
 It was brought on by our dreadful exposures 
 and sufferings during the rebellion ; and, I 
 think, much increased by the hardships he en- 
 dured in his village-preaching at Tavoy. He 
 used sometimes to walk twenty miles in a day, 
 preaching and teaching as he went, and at 
 night have no shelter but an open zayat, no 
 food at all calculated to sustain his failing 
 nature, and no bed, but a straw mat spread on 
 the cold, open bamboo floor." 
 
 And now came the indescribably mournful 
 watch, when the aching heart feels its one 
 earthly support crumbling, sand by sand, from 
 beneath it, and there is none to raise a saving 
 finger. But still the toil went on even now
 
 116 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ft . 
 
 Mr. Boardman preaching, attending Scriptural 
 recitations, and prayer-meetings, overseeing 
 the printing of books, preparing lessons for the 
 boys' school, &c. &c., and Mrs. Boardman, 
 assisted by Mrs. Bennett, who had lately ar- 
 rived, busy in her own scarcely less important 
 province. In November they returned to 
 Tavoy, and from the cabin of the vessel, which 
 conveyed them thither, thus speaks the sorrow- 
 ful watcher : " Oh, my dear mother, it would 
 distress you to see how emaciated he is ! and 
 so weak, that he is scarce able to move. * * * 
 God is calling to me in a most impressive 
 manner, to set my heart on heavenly things. 
 Two lovely infants already in the world of 
 bliss my beloved husband suffering under a 
 disease, which will most assuredly take him 
 from me my own health poor, and little 
 Georgie often ill. Oh, how little have I to 
 attach me to this wretched, fallen world !" 
 
 They were welcomed to Tavoy by affection- 
 ate hearts especially the simple, grateful 
 Karens, who flocked to them in crowds from 
 their homes in the wilderness. Mrs. Board- 
 man thus makes mention of this singular 
 people, in a letter, bearing date January 10th, 
 1831: 
 
 " They" (the Karens) " had heard of Mr.
 
 WITHERING AND WATCHING. 117 
 
 Boardman's illness ; and the sadness depicted 
 on their countenances, when they saw him so 
 pale and emaciated, affected me much. I felt 
 that God had, indeed, raised me up sympa- 
 thizing friends, even in the wilderness, among 
 those who are considered barbarians by the 
 Burmans themselves. Before we had been 
 here a fortnight, one party came for the sole 
 purpose of seeing us and hearing the gospel. 
 They remained four days, and the eagerness 
 with which they listened to our instructions, and 
 the deep interest they manifested in religious 
 affairs, reminded us of our associations at 
 home. 
 
 The three first days were spent in examin- 
 ing candidates for baptism, and conversing 
 with, and instructing those who had previously 
 been baptized. Sometimes Mr. Boardman sat 
 up in a chair, and addressed them for a few 
 moments ; but oftener, I sat on his sick couch, 
 and interpreted his feeble whispers. He was 
 nearly overcome by the gladdening prospect, 
 and frequently wept. But the most touchingly- 
 interesting time was the day before they left 
 us, when nineteen were baptized. * * * 
 Our road lay through that part of the town 
 which is filled with monasteries ; and over the 
 huge brick walls we could see multitudes of
 
 118 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 priests and novitiates looking at us I doubt 
 not with mingled scorn and hatred. As to the 
 common people they reviled us openly, and in 
 so cruel a manner, that my heart was ready to 
 burst. Mr. Boardman was too ill to walk or 
 ride on horseback, and there being no other 
 mode of conveyance in the town, the Karens 
 carried him out on his little cot. ' See !' said 
 the revilers, in bitter ridicule, to two Tavoyan 
 disciples, ' see your teacher ! a living man 
 carried as if he were already dead !' But I 
 will not shock your feelings by repeating their 
 taunts. We pitied them, and passed on in 
 silence. At length we reached a beautiful 
 pond, nearly a mile in circumference, and bor- 
 dered by green trees. Here we stopped a 
 party of about fifty in number and kneeling 
 on the grass, implored the Divine blessing. 
 Then Moung Ing* administered the ordinance 
 of baptism to nineteen believers, who were, a 
 little time ago, in utter ignorance of the true 
 God. * * * During this scene, grief and joy 
 alternately took possession of my breast. To 
 
 # One of the earliest Rangoon disciples, and the 
 second native that was ordained. He had been sent to 
 Mergui, by the Maulmain Missionaries, and, fortunately, 
 touched at Tavoy in time to render Mr. B. an important 
 service.
 
 WITHERING AND WATCHING. 119 
 
 see so many in this dark, heathen land ' putting 
 on Christ,' could but fill me with joy and grati- 
 tude ; but when I looked at my beloved hus- 
 band, lying pale on his couch, and recollected 
 the last time we stood by those waters, my 
 heart could not but be sad at the contrast. It 
 was on a similar occasion, and the surrounding 
 mountains echoed with his voice, as he pro- 
 nounced the words, 'I baptize thee,' &c. 
 Now his strength was exhausted, his voice 
 was weak ; and the thought that I should no 
 more see him administer this blessed ordi- 
 nance, filled me with inexpressible grief. But 
 in the evening, when we came together to re- 
 ceive from him the emblems of our Saviour's 
 sufferings, my feelings changed. He made an 
 effort; and God helped him to go through 
 with the exercises alone, and without any ap- 
 parent injury to his health. A breathless 
 silence pervaded the room, excepting the sound 
 of his voice, which was so low and feeble, that 
 it seemed to carry the assurance that we should 
 feast no more together, till we met in our 
 Father's kingdom. When he handed us the 
 cup, it was to me, as though our Saviour had 
 been in the midst, and I could say, 
 
 ' How sweet and awful is the place, 
 With Christ within the doors !' 
 11
 
 120 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 The grief and anguish, which I felt at the 
 baptism, had subsided into a calm ; and in 
 contemplating the agonies of our blessed Re- 
 deemer, I, for a moment, forgot the bitter 
 cup preparing for myself." 
 
 Oh ! what a blessed resource has the Chris- 
 tian ! what a sure anchor ! Though every 
 earthly stay be wrested from the fainting heart, 
 if it but turn from the " broken reed" to 
 Heaven, it will find a pillar of strength, which 
 cannot fail. Against this stand the mightiest 
 soldiers of the Cross, the Pauls and the Luthers 
 in the Christian field ; the poor, unknown 
 widow leans on this, when her children cry to 
 her for bread, which she cannot give, and yet 
 her heart keeps back from breaking ; and to 
 this clung the lone missionary's wife, when she 
 listened to the faltering accents of that voice, 
 which she had loved in its strength, and forgot, 
 even as she listened, the " bitter cup" prepar- 
 ing for her. This, too, was the support of the 
 dying sufferer, while his spirit increased each 
 day in loveliness, as though it had already 
 caught some of the hues of the beautiful land 
 which it was silently approaching. " He ex- 
 hibited," says the watching wife, " a tender- 
 ness of spirit, a holy sensibility, such as I 
 never witnessed before. He seemed to see the
 
 WITHERING AND WATCHING. 121 
 
 goodness of God in everything. He would 
 weep while conversing on the love of Jesus ; 
 and words cannot describe to you the depth of 
 feeling with which he spoke of his own un- 
 worthiness." 
 
 The year closed, and another one opened, 
 and yet the missionary lingered; for a few 
 more sheaves were to be given him on earth, 
 before he received his crown in the Paradise 
 of ransomed spirits. How different from the 
 commencement of the preceding year ! Then 
 Mrs. Boardman was the sufferer, and her hus- 
 band wrote, " She still grows weaker, and 
 her case is now more alarming. All mission- 
 ary labour has been suspended for a week, to 
 allow me all my time in taking care of her. 
 I have written to Maulmain for some of our 
 friends to come to our assistance, and be with 
 us, at this critical time ; and we hope they will 
 be able and disposed to comply with the re- 
 quest. Should they come even immediately, I 
 can scarcely hope for their arrival before the 
 crisis, or probably, fatal termination, of my 
 dear partner's disorder. My comfort, in my 
 present affliction is the thought, that if to our 
 former trials, the Lord sees fit to add that of 
 removing my beloved companion, He does it 
 with a perfect knowledge of all the blessed-
 
 122 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ness, which death, in its consequences, will 
 confer on her, and of all the sorrows and dis- 
 tresses which her loss will occasion her be- 
 reaved husband and orphan children, in the 
 peculiarities of our present condition. It af- 
 fords me great relief to have been assured by 
 her, that the bitterness of death is past, and 
 that heavenly glories have been unfolded in a 
 wonderful and unexpected manner to her 
 view." 
 
 And now Mrs. Boardman had the same sor- 
 row and the same consolations. Her strength 
 had increased, as her toils grew more numer- 
 ous, and the burden on her spirit heavier ; and 
 she had the satisfaction of finding herself equal 
 to the performance of her sweetly painful duties. 
 Among the last traces of her dying husband's 
 pen, are these words, addressed to a sister : 
 
 " During my present protracted illness, and 
 especially when I was at the worst stage, she 
 was the tenderest, most assiduous, attentive 
 and affectionate of nurses. Without her, I 
 think I should have finished my career in a few 
 days. And even when our lamented, darling 
 babe lay struggling in the very arms of death, 
 though she was with him constantly, night and 
 day, she did not allow me to suffer one mo- 
 ment, for lack of her attentions. I cannot
 
 WITHERING AND WATCHING. 
 
 123 
 
 write what I feel on this tender subject. But 
 oh! what kindness in our Heavenly Father, 
 that when her services were so much needed, 
 her health was preserved, and she had strength 
 given her to perform her arduous labours." 
 
 11*
 
 "DEATH IN THE JUNGLE." 
 
 " Oh ! is it not a noble thing to die, 
 Aa dies the Christian, with his armour on ! " 
 
 Willis. 
 
 N January, 1831, the Rev. Francis 
 Mason arrived at Tavoy. On the jetty, 
 reclining helplessly in the chair which 
 had served the purpose of a carriage, a pale, 
 worn-out man, with " the characters of death 
 in his countenance," waited to welcome his 
 successor. 
 
 " You have come in time, my brother," was 
 the language of his glance, as he extended his 
 emaciated, colourless hand; and so, indeed, 
 he had. 
 
 In eight days after, the little family was on 
 its way to the Karen wilderness, and Mr. 
 Mason made one of the party. When they 
 returned, a corpse was borne upon a litter, 
 which had conveyed the invalid from the town. 
 We leave the tale to another pen.
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 125 
 LETTER FROM MRS. BOARDMAN. 
 
 Tavoy, March 7, 1831. 
 " My beloved Parents : 
 
 " With a heart glowing with joy, and at the 
 same time rent with anguish unutterable, I 
 take my pen to address you. You, too, will 
 rejoice when you hear what God has wrought 
 through the instrumentality of your beloved 
 son. Yes, you will bless God that you were 
 enabled to devote him to this blessed service 
 among the heathen, when I tell you that within 
 the last two months, fifty-seven have been bap- 
 tized, all Karens, excepting one* a little boy of 
 the school and son of the native governor. 
 Twenty-three were baptized in this city by 
 Moung Ing, and thirty-four in their native wil- 
 derness by Mr. Mason. 
 
 " Mr. Mason arrived Jan. 23d, and on the 
 31st, he, with Mr. Boardman, myself and 
 George, set out on a long-promised tour among 
 the Karens. Mr. Boardman was very feeble, 
 but we hoped the change of air and scenery 
 would be beneficial. A company of Karens 
 had come to convey us out, Mr. Boardman on 
 his bed, and me in a chair. We reached the 
 place on the third day, and found they had 
 erected a bamboo chapel on a beautiful stream
 
 126 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 at the base of a range of mountains. The 
 place was central, and nearly one hundred 
 persons had assembled, more than half of them 
 applicants for baptism. Oh it was a sight cal- 
 culated to call forth the liveliest joy of which 
 human nature is susceptible, and made me, for 
 a moment, forget my bitter griefs a sight far 
 surpassing all I had ever anticipated, even in 
 my most sanguine hours. The Karens cooked, 
 ate and slept on the ground, by the river-side, 
 with no other shelter than the trees of the 
 forest. Three years ago they were sunk in 
 the lowest depths of ignorance and supersti- 
 tion. Now the glad tidings of mercy had 
 reached them, and they were willing to live in 
 the open air, away from their homes, for the 
 sake of enjoying the privileges of the Gospel. 
 
 " My dear husband had borne the journey 
 better than we had feared, though he suffered 
 from exhaustion and pain in his side, which, 
 however, was much relieved by a little atten- 
 tion. His spirits were unusually good, and 
 we fondly hoped that a few days' residence in 
 that delightful, airy spot, surrounded by his 
 loved Karens, would recruit and invigorate his 
 weakened frame. But I soon perceived he 
 was failing, and tenderly urged his return to 
 town, where he could enjoy the quiet of home,
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 127 
 
 and the benefit of medical advice. But he 
 repelled the thought at once, saying he confi- 
 dently expected improvement from the change, 
 and that the disappointment would be worse 
 for him than staying. ' And even,' added he, 
 ' should my poor, unprofitable life be somewhat 
 shortened by staying, ought I, on that account 
 merely, to leave this interesting field 1 Should 
 I not rather stay and assist in gathering in 
 these dear scattered lambs of the fold ? You 
 know, Sarah, that coming on a foreign mis- 
 sion involves the probability of a shorter life, 
 than staying in one's native country. And yet 
 obedience to our Lord, and compassion for the 
 perishing heathen, induced us to make this 
 sacrifice. And have we ever repented that we 
 came ? No ; I trust we can both say that we 
 bless God for bringing us to Burmah, for 
 directing our footsteps to Tavoy, and even for 
 leading us hither. You already know, my 
 love,' he continued, with a look of tenderness 
 never to be forgotten, ' that I cannot live long, 
 I must sink under this disease ; and should 
 we go home now, the all-important business 
 which brought us out, must be given up, and I 
 might linger out a few days of suffering, stung 
 with the reflection, that I had preferred a few 
 idle days, to my Master's service. Do not,
 
 
 128 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 therefore, ask me to go, till these poor Karens 
 have been baptized.' I saw he was right, but 
 my feelings revolted. Nothing seemed so valu- 
 able as his life, and I felt that I could make 
 any sacrifice to prolong it, though it were but 
 for one hour. Still a desire to gratify him, if 
 no higher motive, made me silent, though my 
 heart ached to see him so ill in such a 
 wretched place, deprived of many of the com- 
 forts of life, to say nothing of the indulgencies 
 desirable in sickness. 
 
 " The chapel was large, but open on all 
 sides, excepting a small place built up for Mr. 
 Mason, and a room about five feet wide and 
 ten feet long, for the accommodation of Mr. 
 Boardman and myself with our little boy. 
 The roof was so low, that I could not stand 
 upright ; and it was but poorly enclosed, so 
 that he was exposed to the burning rays of the 
 sun by day, and to the cold winds and damp 
 fog by night. But his mind was happy, and 
 he would often say, ' If I live to see this one 
 ingathering, I may well exclaim, with happy 
 Simeon, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant 
 depart in peace, according to thy word, for 
 mine eyes have seen thy salvation. How many 
 ministers have wished they might die in their 
 pulpits; and would not, dying in a spot like
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 129 
 
 this, be even more blessed than dying in a 
 pulpit at home ? I feel that it would.' 
 
 " Nor was it merely the pleasing state of 
 things around him that filled his mind with 
 comfort. He would sometimes dwell on the 
 infinite compassion of God, and his own un- 
 worthiness, till his strength was quite exhaust- 
 ed ; and though he told Mr. Mason that he 
 had not the rapture which he had sometimes 
 enjoyed, yet his mind was calm and peaceful ; 
 and it was plainly perceptible, that earthly 
 passions had died away, and that he was enjoy- 
 ing sweet foretastes of that rest into which he 
 was so soon to enter. He would often say to 
 me, ' My meditations are very sweet, though 
 my mind seems as much weakened as my body. 
 I have not had that liveliness of feeling, which 
 I have sometimes enjoyed, owing to my great 
 weakness, but I shall soon be released from 
 shackles, and be where I can praise God con- 
 tinually, without weariness. My thoughts de- 
 light to dwell on these words, There is no 
 night there.' 
 
 " I felt that the time of separation was fast 
 approaching, and said to him, ' My dear, I 
 have one request to make ; it is, that you would 
 pray much tor George, during your few remain- 
 ing days. I shall soon be left alone, almost
 
 130 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 the only one on earth to pray for him, and I 
 have great confidence in your dying prayers.' 
 He looked earnestly at the little boy, and said, 
 ' I will try to pray for him ; but I trust very 
 many prayers will ascend for the dear child 
 from our friends at home, who will be induced 
 to supplicate the more earnestly for him, when 
 they hear that he is left fatherless in a heathen 
 land.' 
 
 " On Wednesday, while looking in the glass, 
 he seemed at once to see symptoms of his ap- 
 proaching dissolution, and said, without emo- 
 tion, ' I have altered greatly I am sinking into 
 the grave very fast just on the verge.' Mr. 
 Mason said to him, ' Is there nothing we can 
 do for you ? Had we not better call the physi- 
 cian ? Or shall we try to remove you into town 
 immediately ?' After a few momenta' delibera- 
 tion, it was concluded to defer the baptism of 
 the male applicants, and set out for home early 
 the next morning. Nearly all the female can- 
 didates had been examined, and as it is diffi- 
 cult for them to come to town, it was thought 
 best that Mr. Mason should baptize them in 
 the evening. We knelt, and Mr. Mason having 
 prayed for a blessing on the decision, we sat 
 down to breakfast with sorrowful hearts. 
 
 " While we were at the table, my beloved 

 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 131 
 
 husband said, 'I shall soon be thrown away 
 for this world ; but I hope the Lord Jesus will 
 take me up. That merciful Being, who is 
 represented as passing by, and having com- 
 passion on the poor cast-out infant, will not 
 suffer me to perish. O, I have no hope but in 
 the wonderful, condescending, infinite mercy 
 of God, through his dear Son. I cast my poor 
 perishing soul, loaded with sin, as it is, upon 
 his compassionate arms, assured that all will 
 be forever safe.' On seeing my tears, he said, 
 ' Are you not reconciled to the will of God, 
 my love ?' When T told him I hoped I did not 
 feel unreconciled, he continued, ' I have long 
 ago, and many times, committed you and our 
 little one into the hands of our covenant God. 
 He is the husband of the widow and the father 
 of the fatherless. Leave thy fatherless chil- 
 dren, I will preserve them alive ; and let thy 
 widows trust in me, saith the Lord. He will 
 be your stay and support, when I am gone. 
 The separation will be but short. O, hovf 
 happy I shall be to welcome you to heaven.' 
 He then addressed Mr. Mason, as follows : 
 ' Brother, I am heartily rejoiced, and bless 
 God that you have arrived, and especially am 
 I gratified, that you are so much interested for 
 the poor Karens. You will, I am assured, 
 12
 
 132 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 watch over them, and take care of them ; and 
 if some of them turn back, you will still care 
 for them. As to my dear wife and child, I 
 know you will do all in your power to make 
 them comfortable. Mrs. B. will probably spend 
 the ensuing rains in Tavoy. She will be 
 happy with you and Mrs. Mason ; that is, as 
 happy as she can be in her state of loneliness. 
 She will mourn for me, and a widow's state is 
 desolate and sorrowful at best. But God will 
 be infinitely better to her, than I have ever 
 been.' On the same day, he wished me to read 
 some hymns on affliction, sickness, death, &/c. 
 I took Wesley's Hymn Book, the only one we 
 had with us, and read several, among others, 
 the one beginning, ' Ah, lovely appearance of 
 death.' 
 
 " On Wednesday evening, thirty-four per- 
 sons were baptized. Mr. Boardman was car- 
 ried to the water side, though so weak that he 
 could hardly breathe without the continual use 
 ot the fan and the smelling-bottle. The joyful 
 sight was almost too much for his feeble frame. 
 When we reached the chapel, he said he would 
 like to sit up and take tea with us. We placed 
 his cot near the table, and having bolstered him 
 up, we took tea together. He asked the bles- 
 sing, and did it with his right hand upraised,
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 133 
 
 and in a tone that struck me to the heart. It 
 was the same tremulous, yet urgent, and I had 
 almost said, unearthly voice, with which my 
 aged grandfather used to pray. We now be- 
 gan to notice that brightening of the mental 
 faculties, which I had heard spoken of, in per- 
 sons near their end. 
 
 " After tea was removed, all the disciples 
 present, about fifty in number, gathered around 
 him, and he addressed them for a few moments 
 in language like the following : ' I did hope 
 to stay with you till after Lord's-day, and ad- 
 minister to you once more the Lord's Supper. 
 But God is calling me away from you. I am 
 about to die, and shall soon be inconceivably 
 happy in heaven. When I am gone, remem- 
 ber what I have taught you ; and O, be careful 
 to persevere unto the end, that when you die, 
 we may meet one another in the presence of 
 God, never more to part. Listen to the word 
 of the new teacher and the teacheress as you 
 haue done to mine. The teacheress will be 
 very much distressed. Strive to lighten her 
 burdens, and comfort her by your good con- 
 duct. Do not neglect prayer. The eternal 
 God, to whom you pray, is unchangeable. 
 Earthly teachers sicken and die, but God re- 
 mains forever the same. Love Jesus Christ 

 
 134 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 with all your hearts, and you will be forever 
 safe.' This address I gathered from the Ka- 
 rens, as I was absent preparing his things for 
 the night. Having rested a few minutes, he 
 offered a short prayer, and then with Mr. Ma- 
 son's assistance, distributed tracts and portions 
 of Scripture to them all. Early the next morn- 
 ing we left for home, accompanied by nearly 
 all the males and some of the females, the re- 
 mainder returning to their homes in the wil- 
 derness. Mr. Boardman was free from pain 
 during the day, and there was no unfavorable 
 change, except that his mouth grew sore. But 
 at four o'clock in the afternoon, we were over- 
 taken by a violent shower of rain, accompanied 
 by lightning and thunder. There was no 
 house in sight, and we were obliged to remain 
 in the open air, exposed to the merciless storm. 
 We covered him with mats and blankets, and 
 held our umbrellas over him, all to no purpose, 
 was obliged to stand and see the storm beat- 
 upon him, till his mattress and pillows 
 were drenched with rain. We hastened on, 
 and soon came to a Tavoy house. The inha- 
 bitants at first refused us admittance, and we 
 ran for shelter into the out-houses. The shed 
 I happened to enter, proved to be the ' house 
 of their gods,' and thus I committed an almost
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 135 
 
 unpardonable offence. After some persuasion 
 they admitted us into the house, or rather ve- 
 randah, for they would not allow us to sleep 
 inside, though I begged the privilege for my 
 sick husband with tears. In ordinary cases, 
 perhaps, they would have been hospitable ; but 
 they knew that Mr. Boardman was a teacher 
 of a foreign religion, and that the Karens in 
 our company had embraced that religion. 
 
 " At evening worship, Mr. Boardman re- 
 quested Mr. Mason to read the thirty-fourth 
 Psalm. He seemed almost spent, and said, 
 4 This poor perishing dust will soon be laid in 
 the grave ; but God can employ other lumps 
 of clay to perform his will, as easily as he has 
 this poor unworthy one.' I told him, I should 
 like to sit up and watch by him, but he ob- 
 jected, and said in a tender supplicating tone, 
 'cannot we sleep together?' The rain still 
 continued, and his cot was wet, so that he was 
 obliged to lie on the bamboo floor. Having 
 found a place where our little boy could sleep 
 without danger of falling through openings in 
 the floor, I threw myself down, without un- 
 dressing, beside my beloved husband. I spoke 
 to him often during the night, and he said he 
 felt well, excepting an uncomfortable feeling 
 in his mouth and throat. This was somewhat 
 12*
 
 136 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 relieved by frequent washings with cold water. 
 Miserably wretched as his situation was, he 
 did not complain ; on the contrary, his heart 
 seemed overflowing with gratitude. ' O,' said 
 he, ' how kind and good our Father in heaven 
 is to me; how many are racked with pain, 
 while I, though near the grave, am almost free 
 from distress of body. I suffer nothing, noth^ 
 ing to what you, my dear Sarah, had to endure 
 last year, when I thought I must lose you. 
 And then I have you to move me so tenderly. 
 I should have sunk into the grave ere this, but 
 for your assiduous attention. And brother 
 Mason is as kind to me as if he were my own 
 brother. And then how many, in addition to 
 pain of body, have anguish of soul, while my 
 mind is sweetly stayed on God.' On my say- 
 ing, ' I hope we shall be at home to-morrow 
 night, where you can lie on your comfortable 
 bed, and I can nurse you as I wish,' he said, 
 ' I want nothing that the world can afford, but 
 my wife and friends ; earthly conveniences and 
 comforts are of little consequence to one so 
 near heaven. I only want them for your sake.' 
 In the morning we thought him a little better, 
 though I perceived, when I gave him his sago, 
 that his breath was very short. He, however, 
 took rather more nourishment than usual, and
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 137 
 
 spoke about the manner of his conveyance 
 home. We ascertained that by waiting until 
 twelve o'clock, we could go the greater part of 
 the way by water. 
 
 " At about nine o'clock, his hands and feet 
 grew cold, and the affectionate Karens rubbed 
 them all the forenoon, excepting a few mo- 
 ments when he requested to be left alone. At 
 ten o'clock, he was much distressed for breath, 
 and I thought the long dreaded moment had 
 arrived. I asked him, if he felt as if he was 
 going home, ' not just yet,' he replied. On 
 giving him a little wine and water, he revived. 
 Shortly after, he said, ' you were alarmed with- 
 out cause, just now, dear I know the reason 
 of the distress I felt, but am too weak to ex- 
 plain it to you.' In a few moments he said to 
 me, ' Since you spoke to me about George, I 
 have prayed for him almost incessantly more 
 than in all my life before.' 
 
 " It drew near twelve, the time for us to go 
 to the boat. We were distressed at the 
 thought of removing him, when evidently so 
 near the last struggle, though we did not think 
 it so near as it really was. But there was no 
 alternative. The chilling frown of the iron- 
 faced Tavoyan was to us as if he was continu- 
 ally saying, ' be gone.' I wanted a little broth
 
 138 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 for my expiring husband, but on asking them 
 for a fowl they said they had none, though at 
 that instant, on glancing my eye through an 
 opening in the floor, I saw three or four under 
 the house. My heart was well nigh breaking. 
 " We hastened to the boat, which was only 
 a few steps from the house. The Karens car- 
 ried Mr. Boardman first, and as the shore was 
 muddy, I was obliged to wait till they could 
 return for me. They took me immediately to 
 him ; but O, the agony of my soul, when I 
 saw the hand of death was on him ! He was 
 looking me full in the face, but his eyes were 
 changed, not dimmed, but brightened, and the 
 pupils so dilated, that I feared he could not 
 see me. I spoke to him kissed him but he 
 made no return, though I fancied that he tried 
 to move his lips. I pressed his hand, knowing 
 that if he could, he would return the pressure ; 
 but, alas ! for the first time, he was insensible 
 to my love, and forever. I had brought a glass 
 of wine and water already mixed, and a smell- 
 ing-bottle, but neither was of any avail to him 
 now. Agreeably to a previous request, I called 
 the faithful Karens, who loved him so much, 
 and whom he had loved unto death, to come 
 and watch his last gentle breathings, for there 
 was no struggle.
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 
 
 " Never, my dear parents, did one of our 
 poor fallen race have less to contend with, in 
 the last enemy. Little George was brought to 
 see his dying father, but he was too young to 
 know there was cause for grief. When Sarah 
 died, her father said to George, 'Poor little 
 boy, you will not know to-morrow what you 
 have lost to-day.' A deep pang rent my bo- 
 som at the recollection of this, and a still 
 deeper one succeeded when the thought struck 
 me, that though my little boy may not know 
 to-morrow what he has lost to-day, yet when 
 years have rolled by, and he shall have felt the 
 unkindness of a deceitful, selfish world, he will 
 know. 
 
 " Mr. Mason wept, and the sorrowing Ka- 
 rens knelt down in prayer to God that God, 
 of whom their expiring teacher had taught 
 them that God, into whose presence the 
 emancipated spirit was just entering that 
 God with whom they hope and expect to be 
 happy forever. My own feelings I will not 
 attempt to describe. You may have some 
 faint idea of them, when you recollect what he 
 was to me, how tenderly I loved him, and, at 
 the same time, bear in mind the precious 
 promises to the afflicted. 
 
 " We came in silence down the river, and 

 
 140 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 lauded about three miles from our house. 
 The Karens placed his precious remains on 
 his little bed, and with feelings which you can 
 better imagine than I describe, we proceeded 
 homewards. The mournful intelligence had 
 reached town before us, and we were soon 
 met by Moung Ing, the Burman preacher. 
 At the sight of us, he burst into a flood of 
 tears. Next, we met the two native Christian 
 sisters, who lived with us. But the moment 
 of most bitter anguish was yet to come on our 
 arrival at the house. They took him into the 
 sleeping room, and when I uncovered his face, 
 for a few moments, nothing was heard but re- 
 iterated sobs. He had not altered the same 
 sweet smile, with which he was wont to wel- 
 come me, sat on his countenance. His eyes had 
 opened in bringing him, and all present seemed 
 expecting to hear his voice ; when the thought, 
 that it was silent forever, rushed upon us, and 
 filled us with anguish sudden and unutterable. 
 There were the Burman Christians, who had 
 listened so long, with edification and delight, 
 to his preaching there were the Karens, who 
 looked to him as their guide, their earthly all 
 there were the scholars whom he had taught 
 the way to heaven, and the Christian sisters,
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 141 
 
 whose privilege it had been to wash, as it were, 
 his feet. 
 
 " Early next morning, his funeral was at- 
 tended, and all the Europeans in the place, 
 with many natives, were present. It may be 
 some consolation to you to know that every- 
 thing was performed in as decent a manner, 
 as if he had been buried in our own dear na- 
 tive land. By his own request, he was interred 
 on the south side of our darling first-born. It 
 is a pleasant circumstance to me, that they 
 sleep side by side. But it is infinitely more 
 consoling to think, that their glorified spirits 
 have met in that blissful world, where sin and 
 death never enter, and sorrow is unknown. 
 
 " Praying that we may be abundantly pre- 
 pared to enter into our glorious rest, I remain, 
 my dear parents, your deeply afflicted, but 
 most affectionate child, 
 
 SARAH H. BOARDMAN." 
 
 And so the sorrowing, rejoicing mourner was 
 left alone. Alone 1 No, there was the smiling, 
 fatherless boy, who could not know his loss ; 
 there were the kind, affectionate strangers, 
 whose pitying lips dropped with consolation, 
 but whose hearts, like her own a few years 
 previous, were yet unchastened by affliction ;
 
 142 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 there were the weeping Christians, like un- 
 taught children, clamorous in their grief; but, 
 above all, there was He, the Holy One, who, 
 in wisdom and in love, had dealt the terrible 
 blow. Oh, no ! the bereaved mourner was not 
 alone ; for God was there, and her hushed, 
 subdued heart felt his presence. 
 
 " Death now seems near to me, and Heaven 
 dearer," she says, in a letter to a friend, " than 
 before I was afflicted ; and I do feel that my 
 heart is more set on things above than it for- 
 merly was. Oh ! I see and feel that my afflic- 
 tions are of precisely the kind my soul needed. 
 ' Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.' 
 * * * I receive from my dear friends, the 
 Masons, every possible kindness. But alas ! 
 the hours of loneliness and bitter weeping that 
 I endure, are known only to God. But still 
 Jesus has sweetened the cup, and I would not 
 that it should have passed my lip." 
 
 Again she says, administering consolation 
 in her own generous, thoughtful way, to those 
 who she knew would grieve for her on the 
 other side of the world : " It is true I nave 
 lost my guide, my earthly all ; but, my dear 
 parents, is not God infinitely better to us than 
 the nearest and dearest of earthly friends ? 
 I can appeal to you both with confidence, for
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 143 
 
 you know how sweet it is to draw nigh to God. 
 I trust you have both, many times been so near 
 heaven, while engaged in prayer, that you have 
 forgotten all your earthly sorrows. And this, 
 my beloved parents, is sometimes the case with 
 me even now, when I am suffering under the 
 greatest possible affliction that my Heavenly 
 Father could have allotted me. The sweet 
 promises of God are precious to my soul ; and 
 I look forward with joy to the blissful moment, 
 when I shall go to be for ever united with my 
 dear husband and children, in a world where 
 there is no sorrow nor weeping." 
 
 The following poem was written some time 
 after, at Yalah, a romantic place on the sea- 
 shore, which she had often visited with her 
 husband. It was her favorite scene ; and its 
 principal features, to which she alludes in the 
 verses, have been more distinctly denned in a 
 pencil sketch, taken during one of these 
 visits. 
 *' The moon throws her bright and glistening ray 
 
 On ocean's heaving breast ; 
 And with her light is the landscape gay, 
 
 But to me, 'tis in sable dressed. 
 
 For the eye is dim, and the voice is hushed, 
 
 That with me admired the scene ; 
 And present enjoyments all are crushed, 
 
 'Neath the tread of those that have been.
 
 144 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 The ocean rolls on in sullen pride, 
 
 As for ages past he has done ; 
 But my guide over life's more fearful tide, 
 
 The friend of my youth, is gone. 
 
 The tree, to which the frail creeper clung, 
 
 Still lifts its stately head ; 
 But he, on whom my spirit hung, 
 
 Is sleeping with the dead. 
 
 The evening star sheds her silvery light, 
 Bright orbs in their beauty roll ; 
 
 But to me 'tis a dark and dreary night, 
 For quenched is the star of nay soul. 
 
 'Tis long since they bore thee away from me, 
 And laid thee low in the grave ; 
 
 But could I forget thee, my soul would be, 
 Like the rock that repels the wave. 
 
 And oh, thou departed and sainted one, 
 
 In thy robes of glory clad ; 
 Dost thou e'er, from thy bright abode, look down, 
 
 On me deserted and sad ? 
 
 Oh, thine is indeed a bright abode ! 
 
 And brilliant thy diadem 
 The crown of life from the hand of God, 
 
 Adorned with many a gem.
 
 DEATH IN THE JUNGLE. 145 
 
 For thou didst bear the gospel light 
 
 To the heathen world afar ; 
 And the darkness of their moral night 
 
 Gave way to the Morning Star. 
 
 The youths of China learned of thee 
 
 To seek a Saviour's face ; 
 And the ruder Burman at thy knee 
 
 Heard the tale of sovereign grace. 
 
 And who are the crowds with visage meek, 
 That come from the mountains high, 
 
 The tear of penitence warm on each cheek, 
 And hope in every eye ? 
 
 There is manhood, and age with hoary head, 
 And the child, scarce touched with guile, 
 
 And the forest-maid, from whose native shade, 
 Nor love nor pleasure could wile. 
 
 The Karens, for whom thy parting breath 
 
 Went forth in fervent prayer, 
 Who knelt beside thy bed of death, 
 
 Are thy crown of gladness there. 
 
 A sound, as from some heavenly shrine, 
 
 Comes sweetly floating near, 
 And accents mild and soft like thine, 
 
 Fall gently on my ear. 

 
 146 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ' Dry, dry thy tears, for sweet my rest, 
 
 From sin and sorrow free ; 
 And our cherub babes, on an angel's breast, 
 
 Lean till they welcome thee. 
 
 And for thee and thy last remaining one, 
 Are seats in this bright abode, 
 
 And a robe of light, and a glorious crown, 
 Prepared by our Saviour God.' "
 
 . HA PIT IS IB 
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 
 
 " Toiling rejoicing sorrowing," 
 The Christian " onward goes ; 
 
 Each morning sees some task "begin, 
 Each evening sees it close ; 
 
 Something attempted, something done. 
 Has earned a night's repose." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 HAVE been trying," said the 
 lone widow, in a note to a mis- 
 sionary friend, " with fasting, 
 and prayers, and tears, to inquire what my 
 duty is, about going home soon with little 
 George. I feel conscious of the weakness of 
 my own judgment ; and am about writing To 
 Maulmain, Rangoon, and Mergui, to ask the 
 advice of my brethren and sisters." But before 
 these letters had been despatched, she received 
 the following, from a missionary, then in Ran- 
 goon one who knew from his own bitter experi- 
 ence, all the depths of her sufferings, and all 
 13*
 
 148 MEMOIR OF SARAII B. JUDSON. 
 
 the points which the finger of sympathy might 
 dare to touch. After saying, " I can only 
 advise you to take the cup with both hands, 
 and sit down quietly to the bitter repast, which 
 God has appointed for your sanctification ;" 
 " You will soon learn there is sweetness at the 
 bottom ;" " You will find heaven coming 
 near to you ; and familiarity with your hus- 
 band's voice will be a connecting link, drawing 
 you almost within the sphere of celestial 
 music," &c., &.c. The writer adds, " As to 
 little Georgie, who has now no earthly father 
 to care for him you cannot, of course, part 
 with him at present. But if you should wish 
 to send him home, I pledge myself to use what 
 little influence I have, in procuring for him all 
 those advantages of education, which your 
 fondest wishes can desire. Or, if you should 
 be prematurely taken away, and should conde- 
 scend on your dying bed, to commit him to 
 me, by the briefest line or verbal message, I 
 hereby pledge my fidelity, to receive and treat 
 him as my own son, to send him home in the 
 best time and way, to provide for his educa- 
 tion, and to watch over him as long as I live." 
 Then follow suggestions for her own personal 
 comfort ; and all this, coming as it did long 
 before American friends could learn anything 

 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 149 
 
 of her afflictions, was a source of inexpressible 
 relief. And so, by the time the invitation to 
 return to the happy home of her childhood 
 reached her, she was prepared to give a deci- 
 sive answer. 
 
 " When I first stood by the grave of my 
 husband, I thought that I must go home with 
 George. But these poor, inquiring, and Chris- 
 tian Karens, and the school-boys, and the 
 Burmese Christians, would then be left without 
 any one to instruct them ; and the poor, stupid 
 Tavoyans would go on in the road to death, 
 with no one to warn them of their danger. 
 How then, oh, how can I go ? We shall not 
 be separated long. A few more years, and we 
 shall all meet in yonder blissful world, whither 
 those we love have gone before us." " I feel 
 thankful that I was allowed to come to this 
 heathen land. Oh, it is a precious privilege 
 to tell idolaters of the Gospel ; and when we 
 see them disposed to love the Saviour, we for- 
 get all our privations and dangers. My be- 
 loved husband wore out his life in this glorious 
 cause ; and that remembrance makes me more 
 than ever attached to the work, and the people 
 for whose salvation he laboured till death." 
 
 And in the midst of her sorrow, suffering, 
 and loneliness, the fond mother's heart could
 
 150 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 devise no higher wish for the child of her love, 
 her " only one," as she often touchingly names 
 little George, than that "the ' dew of his 
 youth' might be consecrated to the living God, 
 and that, at some future day, he might stand 
 in his father's place, and preach among the 
 heathen the unsearchable riches of Christ." 
 That he might devote his young life to those 
 who jeered the parent, when disease had shorn 
 him of his strength, and refused the shelter of 
 a roof to his dying head ! Surely, the noblest 
 Roman matron could never have aspired to 
 heroism like this. She taught her son to die 
 stoically, with the stain of his enemy's blood 
 upon his sword, and went through life without 
 conceiving the possibility of a higher flight. 
 
 For three years previous to the death of her 
 husband, Mrs. Boardman had been almost con- 
 stantly ill ; and this, together with the illness 
 of her family, by which her cares were greatly 
 increased, prevented her engaging but slightly 
 in direct missionary labour. Beside, the station 
 had been twice broken up, and all operations 
 suspended ; and this was ruinous to the pros- 
 pects of the few schools she had succeeded in 
 establishing. Sometimes she conversed a little 
 with visitors ; but her husband was better 
 qualified for the task ; and he was free from
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 151 
 
 the small necessary cares, which, in Burmah, 
 triple the weight of a woman's usual domestic 
 duties. She had made an effort to establish 
 day-schools ; and these had, at times, been 
 prosperous, though at other times they were 
 entirely broken up. She had also kept the 
 boys' boarding-school in existence bare ex- 
 istence; for, at the time of her husband's 
 death, it was very small indeed. But when 
 she was left alone, with the wild, simple moun- 
 taineers flocking about her, and looking to 
 her lips for the words which were to renovate 
 their natures ; when she turned to the Tavoy- 
 ans, and considered that even among them, 
 impudent and reckless as they were in their 
 ignorance, might lie, unrecognized, some beau- 
 tiful stone, to be cut and polished for the 
 temple of the Eternal when she looked about 
 her, and thought of all these things, she began, 
 more than ever, to feel and 
 
 " Know how sublime a thing it is, 
 To suffer and be strong." 
 
 Mrs. Chaplin, in one of her beautiful letters, 
 after speaking of the "triumphal ascension" 
 of the sainted husband, adds, " I rejoice that 
 as he went up, his mantle descended upon you,
 
 152 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 his beloved one and that your missionary 
 zeal was kindled at this altar, and that more 
 than ever before, it is in your heart to benefit 
 the heathen." In truth, such a mantle, so 
 heavy with important duties, seldom weighs 
 upon the shoulders of a woman ; and very sel- 
 dom is it worn with such a modest, uncon- 
 scious grace. So light was her step, that even 
 those who looked upon her daily, scarce sus- 
 pected that she was treading in the foot-prints 
 of the Christian warriour ; the sword of truth 
 was so concealed by the flowers of gentleness, 
 and by gospel balms, that when it made its 
 presence felt none knew the hand that wielded 
 it ; and so unassuming were her" feminine 
 adornments, and worn with such sweet simpli- 
 city, that the " armour of proof" beneath, was 
 completely hidden in their graceful folds. But 
 the light foot was firm and daring ; the armour 
 was never thrown aside ; and the small spirit- 
 sword had a keen, resistless point. 
 
 To a friend she says, " Every moment of 
 my time is occupied, from sunrise till ten 
 o'clock in the evening. And now, although I 
 would fain write you a long letter, I scarce 
 know how to find time for a single line. It is 
 late bed-time, and I am surrounded by five 
 Karen women, three of whom arrived this
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 153 
 
 afternoon from the jungle, after having been 
 separated from us nearly five months by the 
 heavy rains. The Karens are beginning to 
 come to us in companies ; and with them, and 
 our scholars in the town, and the care of my 
 darling boy, you will scarce think that I have 
 much leisure for letter-writing." 
 
 In the same letter, she announces the death 
 of several Christians, one of them a school- 
 master among the Karen mountains. An ex- 
 tract would be wholly irrelevant, but, as exhib- 
 iting the nature of the cords which bound her 
 so strongly to this land of darkness, and the 
 near connexion which her employment had 
 with Heaven, it will be pardoned. " Thah- 
 ourig," she says, " continued in his school till 
 two days before his death, although he had 
 been for a long time very ill. He felt, then, 
 that he must die, and said to his scholars, ' I 
 can do no more God is calling me away from 
 you I go into His presence be not dismay- 
 ed.' He was then carried to the house of his 
 father, a few miles distant, and there he con- 
 tinued exhorting and praying, to the very last 
 moment. His widow, who is not yet fifteen, 
 is one of the loveliest of our ' desert blossoms.' 
 She and her younger sister, who is also a dis- 

 
 154 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ciple, have attended Ko Thah-Byoo's school 
 since the death of Thah-oung." 
 
 A few extracts from a couple of journal-like 
 letters, published in the Missionary Magazine, 
 for 1832, will give a still better idea of her 
 employments and interests. 
 
 "March, 1831. One of our best Karen 
 brethren came to see us, and through him, we 
 heard that all the disciples were well ; that 
 they were living in love with one another, in 
 the enjoyment of religion, and had nothing to 
 distress them but the death of their beloved 
 teacher. Poor Moung-Quay was obliged to 
 turn away his face to weep several times, while 
 answering my inquiries. Oh, how they feel 
 the stroke that has fallen upon them ! And 
 well they may, for he was to them a father and 
 a guide. 
 
 " After Mr. Mason left, Mah Doke (the 
 only one of the female converts from Rangoon 
 in these provinces) came in to pray with me. 
 The tears rolled down Mah Men's cheeks as 
 she said, ' I have been telling Moung Shway- 
 bwen, that now you would be more distressed 
 than ever, and he sent me to speak soothing 
 words.' We all knelt down, and it was one of 
 the pleasantest prayer-meetings I ever had." 
 
 "A congregation to-day of nearly thirty lis- 
 
 <***
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 155 
 
 teners. This morning, I was pleased with the 
 simplicity of one of the Karen women. She 
 asked me if I had prayed, not in a way to im- 
 ply a doubt of my habitual practice of this 
 duty, but in the same simple manner that she 
 would ask if I had eaten breakfast. After the 
 morning service, the female Christians met in 
 my room for prayer, and all took a part some 
 in Burman, and some in Karen. We were 
 much disturbed by the native music and dan- 
 cing at a feast, in sight of the house. Though 
 it was a very splendid entertainment, under an 
 awning, out of doors, not one of our scholars 
 or people showed the least disposition to go, 
 excepting a little Tavoy girl, who had been 
 with me only three days. 
 
 " While Moung Ing was preaching, Sek- 
 kike, one of the little Chinese disciples, re- 
 turned from a visit of two or three weeks, at 
 his grandmother's. He took his seat with the 
 hearers, and the dear child could not help 
 laughing with real delight, at finding himself 
 once more in the midst of the disciples, and 
 under the sound of the gospel. And I confess, 
 when I saw the joy beaming from his coun- 
 tenance, I had as little command over my 
 feelings. 
 
 " December 31. The Church at present 
 14
 
 156 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 numbers one hundred and ten members. 
 They are mostly Karens, living at a great 
 distance ; and, by their frequent visits to us, 
 over almost impassable mountains and through 
 deserts, the haunt of the tiger, they evince a 
 love for the gospel seldom surpassed. What 
 would the Christians in New-England think of 
 travelling forty or fifty miles on foot, to hear 
 a sermon, and beg a Christian book? A Ka- 
 ren woman, who had been living with us seve- 
 ral months, told me, that when she came, the 
 water was so deep she was obliged to wait 
 until the men could fell trees to cross on ; and 
 sometimes she forded the streams herself, 
 when the water reached her chin. She said 
 she feared alligators, more than anything else." 
 From some of the extracts just made, show- 
 ing the sympathetic disposition of the native 
 Christians, and Mrs. Boardman's affection for 
 them, the truth of some remarks on the hea- 
 then character, a few chapters back, may be 
 called in question. But perhaps it will require 
 no more than a sentence from her to show, 
 that it was only as Christians that they were 
 companionable and worthy of affection. " Sure- 
 ly," she says in a note to Mrs. Mason, " it re- 
 quires the patience of a Job, and the wisdom 
 of a Solomon, to get on with this people, much
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 157 
 
 as I love them, and good as I think they are." 
 Grace does not give those, who have been all 
 their lives shackled in heart and soul, groping 
 in darkness more than Egyptian, at once, the 
 stature of a perfect man ; and there can be no 
 more cruel injustice, than stretching the infant 
 disciple on such a Procrustean bed. 
 
 In the journal from which the above extracts 
 are made, Mrs. Boardman thus mentions the 
 burning of a Boodhist priest. " The whole 
 town, male and female, from the infant to the 
 gray-headed, are engaged in the ceremonies 
 attendant upon the burning of a priest, who 
 died several months ago. Seven large coffins, 
 perhaps four feet in height, were drawn, on as 
 many cars, adorned with paintings of men and 
 monsters, as large as life, gilded images, look- 
 ing-glasses, fancy-paper, and a variety of other 
 showy trappings, with a large highly orna- 
 mented umbrella over each. The body was 
 wrapped in a gold cloth, and the face covered 
 with gold leaf. It was removed from one coffin 
 to another in sight of our house, and in a way 
 that quite shocked me. Eight men took it on 
 their shoulders, and danced with it in that 
 position, accompanied by the shouts of the 
 multitude, and the deafening sound of na- 
 tive drums, torn toms, &c. One of the little
 
 158 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 disciples said, ' see, mama, it is as our Scrip- 
 tures say, the road to hell is very broad and 
 many walk in it !' He was formerly very fond 
 of such heathen show." 
 
 " Jan. 19, 1832. On our removal to Maul- 
 main in 1830, our day-schools in Tavoy were 
 entirely broken up; and it was not till last 
 April, that I found myself sufficiently at leisure 
 to attempt anything in that way again. I then 
 opened a school, with five scholars, under the 
 care of a respectable and intelligent Tavoy 
 woman. We met with much encouragement, 
 so that other schools have 'been since estab- 
 lished, and our number of day-scholars is now 
 about eighty. These, with the boarding- 
 schools, two village schools, and about fifty 
 persons who learn during the rainy season, in 
 the Karen jungle, make upwards of one hun- 
 dred and seventy under our instruction. The 
 scholars in the jungle cannot of course visit 
 us often ; but a great many have come to be 
 examined in their lessons, and we are surprised 
 and delighted at the progress they have made." 
 
 Mrs. Boardman afterwards established more 
 village-schools ; but she was finally obliged to 
 discontinue them, finding herself, especially 
 during the rains, unable to exercise the neces- 
 sary supervision over both teachers and pupils.
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 159 
 
 She says, " The superintendence of the food 
 and clothing of both the boarding-schools, to- 
 gether with the care of five day-schools, under 
 native teachers, devolves wholly on me. My 
 day schools are growing every week more and 
 more interesting. We cannot, it is true, ex- 
 pect to see among them such progress, espe- 
 cially in Christianity, as our boarders make ; 
 but they are constantly gaining religious know- 
 ledge, and will grow up with comparatively 
 correct ideas. They, with their teachers, at- 
 tend worship regularly on Lord's-day. The 
 day-schools are entirely supported, at present, 
 by the Honourable Company's allowance ; and 
 the civil commissioner, Mr. Maingy, appears 
 much interested in their success." 
 
 That Mrs. Boardman was conducting Gov- 
 ernment-schools, on the plan she mentions, 
 was owing not to her superiour tact, but her 
 quiet, unassuming manner ; which, creating 
 no alarm by ostentatious usefulness, gave her 
 almost unbounded power, wherever she chose 
 to exercise it. Although she was not aware of 
 the fact, it was at that time far from the policy 
 of the Bengal government to allow the intro- 
 duction of Christianity into their schools. 
 There is a letter, addressed to the commis- 
 sioner on the subject, a year after our present 
 14*
 
 160 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 date, which, with his answer, will explain 
 itself: 
 
 " Tavoy, Aug. 24, 1833. 
 " My Dear ir, 
 
 " Mr. Mason has handed me for perusal, the 
 extract from your letter to Government, which 
 you kindly sent him. I apprehend I have 
 hitherto had wrong impressions, in reference 
 to the ground on which the Honourable Com- 
 pany patronize schools in their territories; 
 and I hope you will allow me to say, that it 
 would not accord with my feelings and senti- 
 ments, to banish religious instruction from the 
 schools under my care. I think it desirable 
 for the rising generation of this Province, to 
 become acquainted with useful science ; and 
 the male part of the population, with the Eng- 
 lish language. But it is infinitely more im- 
 portant that they receive into their hearts our 
 holy religion, which is the source of so much 
 happiness in this state, and imparts the hope 
 of a glorious immortality in the world to come. 
 Parents and guardians must know, that there 
 is more or less danger of their children desert- 
 ing the faith of their ancestors, if placed 
 under the care of a Foreign Missionary ; and 
 the example of some of the pupils is calculated
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 161 
 
 to increase such apprehensions. Mr. Board- 
 man baptized into the Christian religion sev- 
 eral of his scholars. One of the number is 
 now a devoted preacher ; and notwithstanding 
 the decease of their beloved and revered 
 teacher, they all, with one unhappy exception, 
 remain firm in the Christian faith. 
 
 " The success of the Hindoo College, where 
 religious instruction was interdicted, may per- 
 haps be urged in favour of pursuing a similar 
 course in schools here. But it strikes me, 
 that the case is different here, even admitting 
 their course to be right. The overthrow of a 
 system so replete with cruel and impure rites, 
 as the Hindoo, or so degrading as the Maho- 
 metan, might be matter of joy, though no 
 better religion were introduced in its stead. 
 But the Burman system of morality is supe- 
 riour to that of the nations around them, and 
 to the heathen of ancient times, and is surpas- 
 sed only by the divine precepts of our blessed 
 Saviour. Like all other merely human institu- 
 tions, it is destitute of saving power ; but its 
 influence on the people, so far as it is felt, is 
 salutary, and their moral character will, I 
 should think, bear a comparison with that of 
 any heathen nation in the world. The person
 
 162 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 who should spend his days in teaching them 
 mere human science, (though he might under- 
 mine their false tenets,) by neglecting to set 
 before them brighter hopes and purer princi- 
 ples, would, I imagine, live to very little pur- 
 pose. For myself, sure I am, I should at last 
 suffer the overwhelming conviction of having 
 laboured in vain. 
 
 " With this view of things, you will not, 
 my dear sir, be surprised at my saying, it is 
 impossible for me to pursue a course so utterly 
 repugnant to my feelings, and so contrary to 
 my judgment, as to banish religious instruction 
 from the schools in my charge. It is what I 
 am confident you yourself would not wish; 
 but I infer from a remark in your letter that 
 such are the terms on which Government 
 affords patronage. It would be wrong to de- 
 ceive the patrons of the schools; and if my 
 supposition is correct, I can do no otherwise 
 than request, that the monthly allowance be 
 withdrawn. It will assist in establishing schools 
 at Maulmain, on a plan more consonant with 
 the wishes of Government than mine has ever 
 been. Meanwhile, I trust, I shall be able to 
 represent the claims of my pupils in such a 
 manner, as to obtain support and countenance
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 163 
 
 from those, who would wish the children to be 
 taught the principles of the Christian faith. 
 " Allow me, my dear sir, to subscribe 
 myself, 
 
 Yours, most respectfully, 
 SARAH H. BOARDMAN." 
 
 " My Dear Madam, 
 
 " I cannot do otherwise than honour and re- 
 spect the sentiments conveyed in your letter, 
 now received. You will, I hope, give me 
 credit for sincerity, when I assure you, that in 
 alluding to the system of instruction pursued 
 by you, it has ever been a source of pride to 
 me, to point out the quiet way, in which your 
 scholars have been made acquainted with the 
 Christian religion. My own Government in 
 no way proscribes the teaching of Christianity. 
 The observations in my official letter are in- 
 tended to support what I have before brought 
 to the notice of Government, that all are re- 
 ceived, who present themselves for instruction 
 at your schools, without any stipulation as to 
 their becoming members of the Christian 
 faith. 
 
 I cannot express to you how much your let- 
 ter has distressed me. It has been a subject 
 of consideration with me, for some months
 
 164 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 past, how I could best succeed in establishing 
 a college here, the scholars of which were to 
 have been instructed on the same system, 
 which you have so successfully pursued. Be- 
 lieve me, 
 
 " Yours very faithfully, 
 
 "A. D. MAINGY." 
 " Saturday." 
 
 Mrs. Boardman's firmness, on this occasion, 
 was of decided advantage to her ; for an ap- 
 propriation was afterwards obtained from Gov- 
 ernment for schools throughout the Provinces, 
 " to be conducted on the plan of Mrs. Board- 
 man's schools, at Tavoy." The plan was not 
 carried out in all respects ; for the propagation 
 of Christianity in them was soon prohibited ; 
 but she was always allowed to teach as her 
 own conscience dictated. 
 
 Immediately after the death of her husband, 
 Mrs. Boardman commenced the study of the 
 Karen ; but her heavy duties prevented her 
 from making much progress, and it was at 
 length abandoned. She was well read in the 
 Burmese, and was exceedingly fond of it. 
 The following letter, addressed to the Trans- 
 lator of the Burmese Scriptures, will serve to 
 give some idea of her knowledge of the Ian-
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 165 
 
 guage, and also of the pleasure she found in 
 the study of the Bible in that tongue. 
 
 " Tavoy, Feb. 17th, 1834. 
 " My Dear Brother, 
 
 " The translation of the Bible into Burmese 
 is an event, to which thousands have looked 
 forward with joyful anticipation, and for which, 
 thousands now perishing in their sins, should 
 fall on their knees in thanksgiving to God, and 
 through which, thousands yet unborn will 
 praise him for ever and ever. 
 
 " My dear brother, I dare not pass enco- 
 miums upon a fellow-mortal in speaking of the 
 Word of God ; and if you think me guilty of 
 this impiety in what I may say, bear with me 
 yourself, and pray God to forgive me. I have, 
 for the last four years, been in the daily prac- 
 tice of reading attentively the New-Testament 
 in Burmese ; and the more I study it, the bet- 
 ter I am pleased and satisfied with the transla- 
 tion. I am delighted with the graphic style of 
 the narrative part; and think many of the 
 doctrinal passages are expressed with a force 
 and perspicuity entirely wanting in our version. 
 How much of this is due to your vivid man- 
 ner of expression, and how much to the nature 
 of the language, I do not know. I sometimes
 
 166 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 tell the Masons, that I should be willing to 
 learn Burmese for the sake of being able to 
 read the Scriptures in that language. 
 
 Last Lord's-day, while reading a portion of 
 Scripture, I was affected to tears, and could 
 scarcely proceed, as is often the case, in read- 
 ing striking passages ; and the effect was also 
 observable on the old Tavoyan, for he man- 
 aged to bring a great part of it into his prayer, 
 which immediately followed. My scholars are 
 now reading the Gospel of Luke ; and I am 
 reading St. John's Gospel and Revelation 
 alternately, at evening worship. 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 " SARAH H. BOARDMAN." 
 
 Mrs. Boardman's tours in the Karen wilder- 
 ness, with little George borne in the arms of 
 her followers beside her, through wild, moun- 
 tain passes, over swollen streams, and deceitful 
 marshes, and among the craggy rocks and tan- 
 gled shrubs of the jungle if they could be 
 spread out in detail, would doubtless present 
 scenes of thrilling interest. But her singular 
 modesty always made her silent on a subject, 
 which would present her in a light so enter- 
 prising and adventurous. Even her most inti- 
 mate friends could seldom draw from her any- 

 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 167 
 
 thing on the subject; and they knew little 
 more, than that such tours were made, and 
 that the progress of the gospel was not sus- 
 pended among the Karens, while her husband's 
 .successor was engaged in the study of the 
 language. There is a note addressed to Mrs. 
 Mason, from a zayat by the way-side, just 
 before she reached the mountains ; and this is 
 the only scrap among her writings, alluding in 
 any way to those tours. It was sent back by 
 a party of men, who were to bring her provis- 
 ions, and contains only directions about the 
 things necessary to her journey. She says, 
 " Perhaps you had better send the chair, as it 
 is convenient to be carried over the streams, 
 when they are deep. You will laugh, when I 
 tell you, that I have forded all the smaller 
 ones." 
 
 A single anecdote is related by Captain F , 
 a British officer, stationed at Tavoy ; and he 
 used to dwell with much unction on the lovely 
 apparition, which once greeted him among 
 these wild, dreary mountains. He had left 
 Tavoy, accompanied by a few followers, I 
 think on a hunting expedition, and had strolled 
 far into the jungle. The heavy rains, which 
 deluge this country in the summer, had not 
 yet commenced ; but they were near at hand, 
 15
 
 168 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 and during the night had sent an earnest of 
 their coming, which was anything but agree- 
 able. All along his path hung the dripping 
 trailers, and beneath his feet were the roots of 
 vegetables, half-bared, and half-imbedded in 
 mud ; while the dark clouds, with the rain 
 almost incessantly pouring from them, and the 
 crazy clusters of bamboo huts, which appear- 
 ed here and there in the gloomy waste, and 
 were honoured by the name of village, made 
 up a scene of desolation absolutely indescrib- 
 able. A heavy shower coming up as he ap- 
 proached a zayat by the way-side, and far from 
 even one of those primitive villages, he hastily 
 took refuge beneath the roof. Here, in no 
 very good humour with the world, especially 
 Asiatic jungles and tropic rains, he sulkily 
 " whistled for want of thought," and employed 
 his eyes in watching the preparations for his 
 breakfast. 
 
 " Uh ! what wretched corners the world 
 has, hidden beyond its oceans and behind its 
 trees !" 
 
 Just as he had made this sage mental reflec- 
 tion, he was startled by the vision of a fair, 
 smiling face in front of the zayat, the property 
 of a dripping figure, which seemed to his sur- 
 prised imagination to nave stepped that mo-
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY. 
 
 ment from the clouds. But the party of wild 
 Karen followers, which gathered round her, 
 had a very human air ; and the slight burdens 
 they bore, spoke of human wants and human 
 cares. The lady seemed as much surprised as 
 himself; but she curtsied with ready grace, 
 as she made some pleasant remark in English ; 
 and then turned to retire. Here was a dilem- 
 ma. He could not suffer the lady to go out 
 into the rain, but his miserable accommoda- 
 tions, and still more miserable breakfast ! He 
 hesitated and stammered ; but her quick appre- 
 hension had taken in all at a glance, and she 
 at once relieved him from his embarrassment. 
 Mentioning her name and errand, she added, 
 smiling, that the emergencies of the wilderness 
 were not new to her ; and now she begged 
 leave to put her own breakfast with his, and 
 make up a pleasant morning party. Then 
 beckoning to her Karens, she spoke a few un- 
 intelligible words, and disappeared under a low 
 shed a mouldering appendage of the zayat. 
 She soon returned with the same sunny face, 
 and in dry clothing ; and very pleasant indeed 
 was the interview between the pious officer 
 and the lady-missionary. They were friends 
 afterward; and the circumstances of their
 
 170 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 first meeting proved a very charming reminis- 
 cence. 
 
 Mrs. Boardman had always been peculiarly 
 domestic in her character and habits ; esteem- 
 ing herself blessed above measure, when in the 
 bosom of her family, administering to her hus- 
 band's happiness, or unfolding the budding 
 intellects of her children, and fitting their 
 little spirits for their future destiny. But now 
 she sat in the zayat, which had been erected 
 for her husband, at the foot of the mountain, 
 and in others, wherever a little company of 
 worshippers could be collected, and performed 
 even weightier offices, than those of Miriam and 
 Anna ; not like the wild-eyed priestess of 
 Apollo, breathing burning words from the 
 sacred tripod, and mad with imagined inspira- 
 tion ; but meek, and sometimes tearful, speak- 
 ing in low, gentle accents, and with a manner 
 sweetly persuasive. In several instances she 
 thus conducted the worship of two or three 
 hundred Karens, through the medium of her 
 Burmese interpreter ; and such was her modest 
 manner of accomplishing the unusual task, 
 that even the most fastidious were pleased ; 
 and a high officer of the English Church, 
 which is well-known to take strict cognizance 
 of irregularities, saw fit to bestow up*on her
 
 THE FEMALE MISSIONARY 171 
 
 unqualified praise. These acts, however, were 
 not in accordance with her feminine taste or 
 her sense of propriety. The duty, which cal- 
 led her to them, was fashioned by peculiar cir- 
 cumstances ; and, as soon as opportunity offer- 
 ed, she gladly relinquished the task, in favour 
 of a person better suited to its performance. 
 
 15* 

 
 A NEW HOME. 
 
 "The love-lit eye, too, ere she spoke. 
 Forestalled the office of her tongue ; 
 
 And hearts on -which its radiance "broke. 
 
 Thrilled with new life and heavenward spring , 
 
 And prayer and praise, -where'er she trod. 
 Bore witness that she walked with God." 
 
 Renne. 
 
 T the commencement of the fourth 
 year of her widowhood, Mrs. Board- 
 :ssjl man, by accepting the name of one, 
 whom, long after, she declares to be, " a com- 
 plete assemblage of all that a woman's heart 
 could wish to love and honour," found herself 
 in a new station, with new duties clustering 
 thickly around her. She parted from her 
 "beloved Karens" with the less regret, that 
 they were left in charge of judicious and 
 devoted " teachers." But she never forgot 
 them ; and, for many years, she required a list
 
 A NEW HOME. 173 
 
 of all the converts to be sent her, and fre- 
 quently had occasion to rejoice over the final 
 ingathering of those, for whose salvation she 
 had, in former times, zealously laboured. 
 Maulmain had grown into a large, populous 
 town, since young Boardman erected his bam- 
 boo cottage in the jungle ; new missionaries 
 had gathered there ; several flourishing schools 
 had been established ; and the printing-press 
 was sending forth its publications in every 
 direction. When she left her first Burman 
 home, in 1828, for Tavoy, there was one 
 church at Maulmain, containing three native 
 members ! Now, in charge of her present 
 husband, were three flourishing churches 
 one Burmese, of about a hundred members, 
 and two Karen, containing unitedly the same 
 number. An English church had also been 
 established by the missionaries, but was kept 
 in a fluctuating state, by the frequent changes 
 occurring in the army. Still this success 
 seemed to those who occupied a position to 
 measure the extent of the immense field, but 
 one small step in their progress ; and Mrs. 
 Judson, instead of finding her usefulness re- 
 tarded by her new position, saw opening before 
 her a wider and more effective range. The 
 river of her life now flowed on more evenly
 
 174 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSONf 
 
 deeper, broader, serener with nothing to ob- 
 struct its course ; but its wealth of waters 
 scarce made a sound, as they floated by. It 
 was a life of which there is much to remember, 
 and little to tell ; as, a year of stirring events 
 may fill a volume, while perhaps the dozen 
 valuable years of patient toil and quiet endur- 
 ance that follow, have their only record on a 
 single page. She did not establish schools, 
 for that ground was already occupied ; nor did 
 she make long tours in the wilderness, and 
 speak to listening crowds in the zayat; but 
 she was in heart and life a missionary still. 
 " I can truly say," she writes to a very intimate 
 friend, a year after her marriage, " that the 
 mission cause and missionary labour is increas- 
 ingly dear to me, every month of my life. I 
 am now united with one, whose heavenly spirit 
 and example is deeply calculated to make me 
 more devoted to the cajise, than I ever have 
 been before. Oh, that I may profit by such 
 precious advantages." 
 
 Immediately after her arrival at Maulmain, 
 the Civil Commissioner invited Mrs. Judson to 
 take charge of a Government School, which 
 was to be conducted on the same plan as those 
 at Tavoy ; but, in view of other labors, it was 
 thought advisable for her to decline.
 
 A NEW HOME. 175 
 
 A large share of the population of Maul main 
 and Amherst consisted of Peguans, (called by 
 the Burmans, Taleings,) a people entirely dis- 
 tinct from the Burmans, in everything but re- 
 ligion. About a century ago, they made war 
 upon Burmah, and subdued the entire empire ; 
 but their star was only a short time in the as- 
 cendant. Alompra, the founder of the present 
 dynasty in Burmah, by his combined bravery 
 and cunning, delivered his country from its 
 chains, and the victors became, in their turn, 
 the vanquished. It was now the policy of the 
 Burman government to give permanency to 
 their success, by up-rooting the old Peguan 
 dynasty ; and the whole royal family, even in 
 its most remote branches, was swept away. 
 The king, a venerable, white-haired old man, 
 was conveyed with great pomp to the capital, 
 where he suffered an ignominious death, amid 
 the triumphs of his enemies ; and the nation 
 was, henceforth, fairly incorporated with the 
 Burmans. The language was, at different 
 times, proscribed ; and men living in Burman 
 towns seldom ventured to use it, except in 
 secret. Affairs remained in this condition be- 
 tween the two nations, till the close of the 
 Burmese and English war ; when the Peguans, 
 headed by an old man, more fiery than power- 

 
 176 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ful, who boasted some few diluted drops of the 
 blood-royal, made an effort to regain their free- 
 dom. When the English steamer passed down 
 the Irawaddy, after the treaty, the warlike 
 demonstrations on the way produced no little 
 surprise. Rangoon was besieged, and all the 
 country round was swarming with rebellious 
 Peguans. A missionary, who accompanied 
 Commissioner Crawford on this occasion, re- 
 lates many thrilling anecdotes, which, however 
 interesting, would be irrelevant here ; but per- 
 haps the deep interest, which he afterwards 
 exhibited in the vanquished and scattered 
 Peguans, may have been in part founded on 
 these circumstances. The English unwittingly 
 gave the death-blow to the insurrection. The 
 Peguans were in possession of the country ; 
 and the Burmese within the besieged town 
 were suffering for lack of food, which could 
 not be conveyed to them, while the enemy held 
 posts along the river. As the steamer passed 
 on her way, the firing was suspended out of 
 respect to the British flag. The Burmans had 
 foreseen this, and despatched boat-loads of 
 provisions, to follow in the vessel's wake, ply- 
 ing the oar at night in places where they could 
 do so with safety, while she lay at anchor, and 
 concealing themselves during the day in the
 
 A NEW HOME. 177 
 
 windings of the river, as near as they could 
 follow. The ruse was successful ; the provis- 
 ions were landed at Rangoon, and the Peguans 
 shortly after raised the siege, and fled to the 
 English provinces for protection. Most of 
 these people, especially the men, were in some 
 degree familiar with the Burmese language; 
 but it was found very difficult to give them 
 religious instruction through this medium. 
 After a time, a man, who had served as in- 
 terpreter between his countrymen and the 
 American teachers, was employed by one of 
 the latter, to render a Burmese tract in his 
 native tongue ; but as there was no one to 
 revise it, the task was doubtless very imper- 
 fectly executed. However, the old Christian 
 woman, to whom it was first read, was almost 
 wild with delight ; and this circumstance ex- 
 cited an interest in the behalf of the Peguans, 
 which could not be smothered by other duties, 
 however important. And, from this time, their 
 language became, through one who could not 
 himself pursue the study of it, an importunate 
 beggar at the heart of every missionary, whose 
 hands were not full. Mr. and Mrs. Jones 
 looked into it a little before they finally turned 
 to the Siamese ; and then Mrs. Simons was 
 induced to make a beginning, but she soon
 
 178 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 abandoned it for other employment. On the 
 arrival of Mrs. Judson from Tavoy, she enter- 
 ed at once into her husband's views, and com- 
 menced the study of this new language, with 
 patient assiduity ; and during the three or four 
 years which she devoted to it, she made no in- 
 considerable progress. She also established 
 female prayer-meetings in the church, of which 
 her husband was pastor ; having the timid 
 Burmese women come to her in classes, in- 
 stead of forming together one great assembly. 
 
 Beside this, she collected a class to whom 
 she weekly taught the Scriptures ; and under 
 her direction, the mothers of the church formed 
 themselves into a maternal society, " which," 
 she says in a letter, "meets once a month, 
 and is becoming every month more and more 
 interesting." Then there were the seemingly- 
 small, never-ceasing duties of a pastor's wife ; 
 the ignorant to instruct by the daily, patient 
 " line upon line," the erring to admonish, the 
 sorrowful to pray over, little difficulties to 
 settle, and many a small obstacle to remove 
 from the path that weak, timid feet were tread- 
 ing ; " for," ^he says, " about half of the 
 church are females, who require to be guided 
 and led along like children." 
 
 Soon after Mrs. Judson's removal to Maul-
 
 A NEW HOME. 179 
 
 main, she was again seized with the alarming 
 malady, which had already made such inroads 
 on her constitution. After many weeks of 
 doubtful lingering, she began slowly to recover; 
 but, as she attributed the perfect, uninterrupt- 
 ed health, which she afterwards enjoyed, to a 
 cause within the reach of all who come to this 
 land of shortened lives, it may be well to give 
 the entire account, in her own words : 
 
 " When I first came up from Tavoy, I was 
 thin and pale; and though I called myself 
 pretty well, I had no appetite for food, and was 
 scarce able to walk half a mile. Soon after, I 
 was called to endure a long and severe attack 
 of illness, which brought me to the brink of 
 the grave. 1 was never so low in any former 
 illness, and the doctor who attended me, has 
 since told me, that he had no hope of my re- 
 covery ; and that when he came to prescribe 
 medicine for me, it was more out of regard to 
 the feelings of my husband, than from any pros- 
 pect of its affording me relief. I lay confined to 
 my bed, week after week, unable to move, ex- 
 cept as Mr. Judson sometimes carried me in his 
 arms from the bed to the couch for a change ; 
 and even this once brought on a return of the 
 disease, which very nearly cost me my life. * 
 I never shall forget the precious seasons en- 
 16
 
 180 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 joyed on that sick bed. Little George will tell 
 you about it, if you should ever see him. I 
 think he will always remember some sweet con- 
 versations I had with him, on the state of his 
 soul, at that time. Dear child ! his mind was 
 very tender, and he would weep on account of 
 his sins, and would kneel down and pray with 
 all the fervour and simplicity of childhood. He 
 used to read the Bible to me every day, and 
 commit little hymns to memory by my bedside. 
 * * It pleased my Heavenly Father to raise 
 me up again, although I was for a long time 
 very weak. As soon as I was able, I com- 
 menced riding on horseback, and used to take 
 a long ride every morning before sunrise. 
 After a patient trial, I found that riding im- 
 proved my health ; though many times I should 
 have become discouraged and given it up, 
 but for the perseverance of my husband. Af- 
 ter riding almost every day, for four or five 
 months, I found my health so much improved, 
 and gained strength so fast, that I began to 
 think walking might be substituted. About 
 this time, my nice little pony died, and we 
 commenced a regular system of exercise on 
 foot, walking at a rapid pace, far over the hills 
 beyond the town, before the sun was up, every 
 morning. We have continued this perseve-
 
 A NEW HOME. 181 
 
 ringly up to the present time ; and, during these 
 years, my health has been better than at any 
 time previous, since my arrival in India ; and 
 my constitution seems to have undergone an 
 entire renovation." 
 
 Soon after this, the native Christians in Bur- 
 mah Proper, were called to endure violent per- 
 secutions ; but the commotions could not reach 
 the provinces ; and there, under the protection 
 of the British flag, the religion of Christ was 
 daily gaining new adherents. In one letter 
 Mrs. Judson announces the baptism of eighteen, 
 who were united to the Burmese church, and 
 adds, " The Karens are flocking into the king- 
 dom by scores." Information concerning her 
 own occupation, during this time, must be 
 gleaned from her letters, in fragments. 
 
 " My time is chiefly devoted to the study of 
 the Peguan, and to the instruction of the 
 native Christians and inquirers." " My female 
 prayer-meetings are very interesting. Yester- 
 day twenty-six Burman women met with me, 
 at different times ; and we had six inquirers, 
 four of whom I think very hopeful." 
 
 " My husband is busy, early and late, super- 
 intending the publication of the Burmese 
 Bible, and taking care of his church," (the 
 Burmese ; the two Karen churches had, pre-
 
 182 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 vious to this, been delivered to Mr. Vinton, 
 who has since proved, not only a powerful 
 preacher in that tongue, but one of the most 
 zealous and persevering of labourers.) " In 
 the midst of his multiplied duties, it is a great 
 gratification to me that I am able to relieve 
 him, in some measure, by giving instruction 
 and advice to the native Christians, and set- 
 tling little difficulties among them." " We 
 have lately established a Sabbath-School, on 
 the plan most generally adopted in America ; 
 and it promises to be successful and perma- 
 nent. It embraces all the day-schools six in 
 number and some members of the church 
 beside. Mr. Osgood superintends it, and Mrs. 
 Hancock and myself assist. It is conducted, 
 of course, entirely in the Burmese language." 
 
 " When I last wrote you, I think I mentioned 
 that I was revising the standard tracts in 
 Peguan. I have finished the 'Catechism^' 
 ' View,' ' Balance,' and ' Investigator,' and 
 gone partly through with the Gospel of St. 
 Luke." 
 
 " The last Peguan tract we published was 
 the ' Ship of Grace,' which was written in 
 Burmese by my departed husband." 
 
 Assisted by Ko Man-boke, a Peguan Chris- 
 tian, who was familiar with the Burmese, she
 
 A NEW HOME. 183 
 
 followed her revision of the tracts by a trans- 
 lation of the New-Testament ; and at the close 
 of the year 1837, she gave to the press an 
 edition of the Life of Christ, which she had 
 translated from the Burmese. In the mean- 
 time, Mr. Haswell had arrived ; and, as soon 
 as she could do so to advantage, she gladly 
 placed all her books and papers in the hands 
 of a missionary, of whose facility in acquiring 
 languages she speaks admiringly ; and whose 
 indefatigable labours in a field, which had in- 
 terested her so deeply, must have been very 
 gratifying. 
 
 Mrs. Judson's labours in the Peguan, were 
 somewhat singular ; indeed, I believe scarce 
 precedented. Missionaries sometimes aban- 
 don one language and devote themselves 
 to the acquisition of another, in which they 
 hope to effect more good. But I know of only 
 one other instance (Ann H. Judson, in the 
 Siamese) of stepping from the path which has 
 grown familiar to the foot, toiling for years 
 merely to supply an exigency, and then, re- 
 signing the labour and its fruits to another, as 
 willingly as though it had never cost an effort. 
 She used to sit by her study-table, all day long, 
 except when called elsewhere by imperative 
 duty, with two or three assistants about her ; 
 16*
 
 184 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 and, though the translations and revisions there 
 made were necessarily imperfect, there has 
 been a time when they were invaluable. It 
 was from this position, that the following 
 words were penned : "I am sure, my dear 
 parents, that you have never regretted giving 
 up your beloved child, your first-born, to the 
 cause of Christ. However unworthy the offer- 
 ing, it was valuable to you ; and if given up 
 in a right spirit, it has been the source of most 
 precious blessings to your souls. It is in this 
 state of existence only, that we can testify our 
 gratitude to the Saviour, by suffering and de- 
 nying ourselves for him. Oh ! as we draw 
 near eternity, and the bubbles of earth recede 
 from our dazzled vision, shall we not lament 
 that we have done so little for Christ that we 
 have been willing to deny ourselves so little for 
 His sake who gave up his life for us ? Oh ! 
 let us live for the Saviour, and then, after a 
 long separation on earth, how sweet to meet 
 at God's right hand, to part no more for 
 ever !" 
 
 The letter continues, " The little ones play 
 in the verandah, adjoining the room where I 
 sit all the day, with my Peguan translator. It 
 is open to the road, and I often have inquirers. 
 Since I commenced this letter, I happened to
 
 A NEW HOME. 185 
 
 look up, and saw a man leaning over the balus- 
 trade, looking at me very attentively. The 
 thought occurred to me, he may be one of the 
 dear chosen ones, and may have been guided 
 to this place to hear the blessed Gospel. So I 
 asked him what he wanted. He replied, he 
 was looking to see me write. I immediately 
 laid down my pen, invited him in, and he sat 
 a long time listening to the truth. He prom- 
 ised to pray to the Eternal God, to give him a 
 new heart, that he might believe in the 
 Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, of whom he 
 says he never heard till to-day. He is a Shan, 
 who has been residing for a number of years 
 at Pegu, and came here for trade. He lives 
 in his boat ; and, while strolling about the 
 streets, was led by curiosity hither ; and oh, 
 may it be for the salvation of his soul !" 
 
 This manner of life, as has been before in- 
 timated, had no showiness about it ; but every 
 moment of time each golden sand, as it drop- 
 ped from the glass, combined with that which 
 went before, to be moulded into jewels of infi- 
 nite richness. Notwithstanding the bright pro- 
 mise of Mrs. Judson's girlhood, her intellect 
 was in reality not a precocious one, and there 
 had been no premature development. On the 
 contrary, every day in her new position, gave
 
 186 
 
 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 strength and comfort to her mental powers, and 
 increased loftiness to her character, without 
 abating its attractive gentleness. So, even in 
 this life, begin "the children of light" to 
 mount the ladder, whose gradations will be 
 the measure of eternity.
 
 (BOH A IP IF IS IB 
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 
 
 " He's gone, t>ut oft in memory's light, 
 
 His cherished face will shine, 
 His plaintive voice "be in my ear. 
 
 His little hand in mine." 
 
 Judson. 
 
 |E have passed one event in 
 Mrs. Judson's life the greatest 
 of all trials which beset a mis- 
 sionary's trial-lined path without mention. 
 It is a hard thing for a mother to lay the child 
 of her love, from her bosom, to the dark, 
 damp pillow fashioned by the sexton's spade ; 
 it is very hard ; but when the little spirit passes 
 from the clay, both hope and fear pass with it, 
 and even love lies down to a sleep of beautiful 
 dreams, to awake at last with its renovated 
 treasure in Paradise. She knows that her pre- 
 cious lamb is folded in the Saviour's arms ; 
 and sorrow gathers a serene sweetness, more 
 grateful to a meek heart than the brightest
 
 188 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 phase of joy. Not thus does the mother think 
 upon the living child, that she has exiled from 
 her bosom, though it may have been in her 
 power to provide for it a pillow of roses. Both 
 hope and fear assume a painful intensity, 
 which time never softens ; and love is not only 
 awake and watchful, but its keen-sightedness 
 fashions many an ill, which has no existence 
 in reality. This sacrifice is not peculiar to 
 the missionary. The Anglo-Saxon blood seems 
 to degenerate under the influence of an Asiatic 
 sun ; and the child must be sent away to de- 
 velope under more favourable circumstances, 
 or arrive at manhood, crippled in mind and 
 muscle ; and in this enfeebled state, (if he have 
 not already commenced the sad career,) run 
 the gauntlet of almost every vice. But there 
 is one great difference. Most Europeans are 
 but temporary residents in India. The mis- 
 sionary alone watches the ship, as it bears 
 away his treasure, with scarce the shadow of a 
 hope that he will ever look upon the beloved 
 face again on earth. He may watch over its 
 welfare from a distance, he may lay plans, 
 and make sacrifices, and advise, and pray ; he 
 may still be the guiding-star of its existence ; 
 but all the sweet cares, the fond solicitude 
 which has its origin in daily watching, the
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 
 
 tenderer and more beautiful duties of the pa- 
 rent, are transferred for ever to another. 
 
 Mrs. Judson had taken the formidable reso- 
 lution of parting with her one darling boy, pre- 
 vious to her second marriage ; and soon after 
 this event, an opportunity offered for sending 
 him to America, which might not occur again 
 in many years. The ship Cashmere had 
 brought a number of Missionaries to Maul- 
 main : and would return directly to Boston, 
 with the exception of a few weeks to be passed 
 at Singapore. Mrs. Judson hesitated, for little 
 George, being her " only one," had been most 
 tenderly nurtured ; and his nature had about 
 it a clinging tenderness and sensitiveness, 
 which peculiarly unfitted him for contact with 
 strangers. Would he not read cruelty, instead 
 of carelessness, in their cold eyes ? And would 
 not the voices, which love did not modulate, 
 sound harsh to him ? Oh, how his little heart 
 must sometimes ache, when there would be 
 none to comfort him ! If he could only be 
 under a woman's care, though it were not her 
 own ! but no ; she must confide him to men, 
 young men, who, however kind might be their 
 intentions, could never look into the spirit of 
 her little boy and mark its delicate workings, 
 or comprehend, in the slightest degree, the
 
 190 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 feeling agitating her own bosom. Yet they 
 promised, and spoke kindly and feelingly ; and 
 the decisive argument this was her only 
 opportunity. And so she says, " After delib- 
 eration, accompanied with tears and agony 
 and prayers, I came to the convict ion that it 
 was my duty to send away my only child, my 
 darling George, and yesterday he bade me a long 
 farewell. Oh, my dear sister ! my heart is 
 full, and I long to disburden it by writing you 
 whole pages: but my eyes are rolling down 
 with tears, and I can scarcely hold my pen." 
 * * Oh ! I shall never forget his looks, as 
 he stood by the door and gazed at me for the 
 last time. His eyes were filling with tears, 
 and his little face red with suppressed emotion. 
 But he subdued his feelings, and it was not 
 till he had turned away, and was going down 
 the steps that he burst into a flood of tears. I 
 hurried to my room ; and on my knees, with 
 my whole heart, gave him up to God ; and my 
 bursting heart was comforted from above. I 
 felt such a love to poor perishing souls, as 
 made me willing to give up all, that I might 
 aid in the work of bringing these wretched 
 heathen to Christ. The love of God, mani- 
 fested in sending his only-begotten and well- 
 beloved Son into this world, to die for our 

 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 191 
 
 sins, touched my heart, and I felt satisfaction 
 in laying upon the altar my only son. My 
 reason and judgment tell me that the good of 
 my child requires that he should be sent to 
 America; and this, of itself, would support 
 me in some little degree; but when I view it 
 as a sacrifice, made for the sake of Jesus, it 
 becomes a delightful privilege. I feel a great 
 degree of confidence, that George will be con- 
 verted, and I cannot but hope he will one day 
 return to Burmah, a missionary of the Cross, 
 as his dear father was. * ' His dear papa 
 took him down to Amherst in a boat. He 
 held him in his arms all the way ; and he says 
 his conversation was very affectionate and in- 
 telligent. He saw his little bed prepared in 
 the cabin, and every thing as comfortable and 
 pleasant as possible, and then, as Georgie ex- 
 pressed it, returned to ' comfort mama.' And 
 much did I need comfqjt ; for this is, in some 
 respects, the severest trial I have ever met 
 with." 
 
 Here let us leave the mother to her griefs 
 and consolations ; and give, here and there, a 
 glance at the little wanderer, who has com- 
 menced the long dreary voyage, to the land of 
 his parents' birth. We find him at first, sur- 
 rounded by gentle and loving friends so gen- 
 17
 
 192 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 tie, and so loving, that he scarce misses his 
 mother's voice and kiss ; and longs to behold 
 her only, that he may give her an account of 
 the wonders he is from day to day beholding. 
 Every body loves him, and studies his happi- 
 ness. The missionaries destined to Singapore 
 pity him, and pity the parents left behind, and 
 they vie with each other in bestowing upon 
 him the minutest attention which they think 
 might be suggested by a mother's love. The 
 officers and the crew are- all charmed with him ; 
 for the presence of a child in the ship is not a 
 common thing, and he is a child of peculiar 
 gentleness. Arrived at Singapore, he is still 
 with missionaries, whose sympathies are all 
 enlisted in his behalf; and their children are 
 his pleasant playmates. And now he attracts 
 other attention ; and so he goes to sit in richly 
 furnished apartments, such as he has never 
 seen before ; and he looks at handsome paint- 
 ings, and walks through fine gardens, while he 
 is loaded with caresses by those who wonder 
 of what magic power the mother is possessed, 
 who has thus far, and thus well, bred up her 
 son in heathen Burmah. 
 
 Next, we will step into the open boat, and 
 follow the little wanderer to the ship all ready 
 to spread her sails for America. It is rowed by
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 193 
 
 natives ; but the child is still under the protec- 
 tion of the two missionaries, Jones and "Dean. 
 They are ten miles from the shore, and five 
 from the ship all alone, and without arms. 
 A boat with three wild, fierce-looking men, 
 hails them in a seeming friendly manner ; and 
 coming near enough to spy out their strength, 
 or rather weakness, moves on. But the little 
 company suspects no danger. A few moments 
 pass, and the spy-boat re-appears. It heads 
 directly towards them, and comes with more 
 speed a sail hoisted, and better manned. A 
 quick glance of suspicion is exchanged, but 
 there is time for no more, for the sail is close 
 alongside. The strangers ask but a cluster of 
 fruit, however, and one of the gentlemen rises 
 to give it them. What a gleaming of fiendish 
 eyes ! A moment of rapid action succeeds a 
 push a plunge and the kind fruit-giver is 
 struggling with the waves which have closed 
 above his head. They attempt to wrestle a 
 little with his companion, but finally seize their 
 arms. The little boy, from his hiding-place 
 beneath a bench, marks every thrust ; and his 
 flesh creeps, and his blue eyes glitter and di- 
 late until they assume an intense blackness. 
 And now the form of his protector sways and 
 reels, and the red blood trickles from his
 
 194 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 wounded side to the bottom of the boat. He 
 stands, however, and receives another wound. 
 And now the three iron prongs of a fishing 
 spear send their barbed points through bone 
 and muscle, and the heavy wooden handle is 
 left hanging from the transfixed and bleeding 
 wrist. At this fearful crisis, a hand from with- 
 out clutches the boat a pale, dripping face 
 appears, and the drowning man is dragged 
 over the side, by the bewildered oarsman 
 What a place to seek safety in ! The marau- 
 ders stand with drawn cutlass, or brandishing 
 the curved creese ; but they pause a moment 
 in their deadly work, and substitute threats for 
 blows. Their tones are those of infuriated 
 madmen, and their gestures hah ! a light be- 
 gins to break? Can that one small box, stand- 
 ing so unpretendingly in the centre of the boat, 
 be the cause of the affray ? It contains treas- 
 ure, true, but not such as they can appreciate 
 messages of love from absent children, broth- 
 ers, sisters and friends, to those who would 
 value them far above gold and rubies. It is 
 gladly flung to them, however, and the pirate- 
 boat wheels and flees, like a bird of prey. 
 
 Thank God, that death came neither in the 
 wave nor the steel ! And oh, how heart-felt, 
 how unutterably deep, will be the mother's grat-
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 195 
 
 itude, when she hears of her darling's safety ! 
 When she knows that he has not been borne 
 away to some dark haunt of vice and crime, to 
 be bred to the bloody trade of a wild Malayan 
 Corsair ! 
 
 We might follow the little child still farther. 
 We might see him stand, with paled cheek, 
 and lip quivering, watching the death-agonies 
 of the pet-goat, which had been his playmate 
 in the green compound at Maulmain, while it 
 occurred, none of the sailors who stood laugh- 
 ing by, to explain to him the reason, (if reason 
 there was,) for the seemingly wanton deed. 
 We might see him, who, from necessity, had 
 been the constant companion of a quiet, re- 
 fined, delicate mother, and whose little spirit 
 was all too sensitively attuned, shrinking, 
 shocked and frightened, from the coarse, rude 
 jests, which were intended for his amusement ; 
 and regarding the blunt kindness, which es- 
 teemed itself all sufficient to " make a man of 
 him," as the bitterest cruelty. We might mark 
 his lonely pillow wetted by his tears at night, 
 and in the day, see him creep away alone to 
 the boat, suspended at the stern of the ship, 
 and gaze away over the blue waters till his 
 eyes were too dim to discern their line of meet- 
 ing with the horizon ; and then lean his face 
 17*
 
 196 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 upon his knees, and relieve his childish misery 
 by unchecked sobbings. But the mother fol- 
 lowed him only in imagination not in spirit, 
 for God, in mercy, denies to mortals that com- 
 munion by which the chords of her heart would 
 now have been stirred so agonizingly. She 
 had committed her treasure to a true Friend ; 
 and she knew that in sickness or in health, in 
 the ship or beneath the wave, he rested in the 
 hollow of an Omnipotent Hand, and the wing 
 of peace was over him. 
 
 Soon after the separation, George received a 
 little copy of verses from his mother, which I 
 wish I could place upon the page, as it lies be- 
 fore me now the large letters carefully prin- 
 ted by her pen, that he might be able to read 
 it without assistance; and the nice paper lining 
 afterwards stitched around by the fingers of 
 the grateful son. One would not look to such 
 a place for literary or poetic merit, (unless the 
 effusion were addressed to an ideal, instead of 
 real child, or intended for more than one little 
 pair of eyes) ; and so I will venture to write 
 down the simple rhymes, without their attract- 
 ive concomitants.
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 197 
 
 "FOR MY DARLING GEORGIE. 
 
 " You cannot see your dear mama, 
 
 But think of her, my love ; 
 Nor can you see your dear papa, 
 
 For he's in heaven above. 
 
 Your sister Sarah, too, is gone, 
 
 And little brother dear ; 
 But still, my child, you're not alone, 
 
 For God is ever near." 
 
 Something of Mrs. Judson's character, as a 
 mother, and her mode of instruction, may be 
 inferred from the following letter to her little 
 
 " Maulmain, May 5th, 1835. 
 " My Darling Child, 
 
 " Your papa has to-day received a letter from 
 Mr. Dean, informing us that Mrs. Dean has 
 gone to heaven that happy world, where your 
 own dear father, and your little brother and 
 sister have been for several years that blessed 
 world, where Jesus is who died on the cross 
 for our sins, and who rose from the dead on 
 the third day that blessed world where there is 
 no more sorrow, or sin, or separation, or death. 
 Do you sometimes weep and feel very sorry
 
 
 198 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 because you cannot see your mama? Your 
 mama also feels very sad, and weeps sometimes, 
 because she cannot live with her dear, only 
 little boy. But, Georgie, if we are so blessed 
 as to reach heaven when we die, we shall never 
 be parted again, and shall never weep any 
 more. 
 
 ., " Mr. Dean writes, that you are a good boy ; 
 and it makes your dear papa and myself very 
 happy to hear so. If you are really and truly 
 a good boy, if you are afraid to sin, afraid to do 
 any thing that God will not approve, though 
 unknown to your friends, Jesus will love you 
 and bless you. Some little boys appear to be 
 very good and obedient, in the presence of 
 their parents, or persons older than themselves, 
 but when alone, or with other children, they 
 think naughty thoughts, say naughty words, 
 and do naughty things. Because they behave 
 well in the presence of their parents and teach- 
 ers, their friends think they are very good. 
 But they are not good, and God does not love 
 such naughty little boys ; and if their papas 
 and mamas knew that their children were 
 naughty oat of their sight, they would be very 
 unhappy. "^Remember, my dear child, that 
 God sees you at all times. 
 
 " Do you know, George, the meaning of the
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 199 
 
 word deceive? I will try to explain it to you. 
 Once at evening worship, in the Barman 
 Chapel, you did not keel down at prayer, but 
 just as your papa was going to say ' amen,' 
 you got down softly from your chair and knelt 
 a moment, so that you might rise while the 
 rest of the people were rising. Now consider 
 what did you kneel down and get up imme- 
 diately for ? It was, that we might think you 
 had been kneeling all prayer-time. And yet 
 you had not been kneeling all prayer time 
 only a moment. This is what we mean by 
 deceiving making others think a thing differ- 
 ent from what it really is. 
 
 " I will tell you, my dear child, several ways 
 in which it would have been proper for you to 
 act at the native worship. One is this : You 
 might have knelt down at first, and when you 
 found yourself growing tired, you might have 
 kept thinking in your mind, ' true, I am very 
 tired, and my knees ache very much, but I 
 will try to keep still and think of praying to 
 God, till prayer is over.' Or, if you were too 
 sleepy to think, you might have got up and sat 
 in your chair, till prayer was done, and after 
 worship, said, ' Dear papa, I was too tired and 
 sleepy to kneel down at prayers this evening 
 please excuse me.' You should not have tried
 
 200 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 to make us think you knelt, when you did not, 
 because that is deceiving. You were then a 
 very little boy, and did not know any better. 
 Whenever you do anything wrong now, my 
 darling, go immediately and confess it to your 
 friends, and ask them to forgive you ; and 
 pray God to forgive you. 
 
 " Your papa sends much love. He wrote 
 you a little while ago ; and sent some pretty 
 lines, which he composed himself, for you to 
 learn. He says that you were an obedient, 
 affectionate child, w,hen with us ; and he prays 
 that you may become a Christian. 
 
 " Don't lose this letter, Georgie, for it has 
 some things in it which I wish you to remem- 
 ber. Keep it folded in a piece of paper to 
 read again; and if you cannot understand it 
 all, ask some kind friend to explain it to you. 
 
 "Farewell. God bless you, my dear, dear 
 child ! 
 
 " Your affectionate mama, 
 
 SARAH JUDSON." 
 
 It is a matter of regret that the long letter, 
 which accompanied little George to his future 
 guardians, is not in our possession ; for it 
 would undoubtedly unfold a system of mater- 
 nal management, which, in his own case, and
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 201 
 
 that of the children who succeeded him, has 
 been singularly successful. But if it be still 
 in existence, its possession is not known ; and 
 we must content ourselves with a few extracts 
 from a letter of a more general character, ad- 
 dressed to the lady who was to find her child 
 a home. After speaking of some slight ten- 
 dency to the fatal cough, which she had so 
 much reason to dread, in connection with a 
 residence in a northern climate, and giving 
 some prescriptions for it, she adds particulars 
 about clothing, food, exercise, &c. &-c., which 
 shows that in the mental and moral training 
 of her child, she was far from neglecting his 
 physical developments. " Let George," she 
 continues, " call the persons, with whom he 
 finds a home, ' uncle' and ' aunt/ if they desire 
 it, but I do not like to have him call others 
 ' papa' and ' mama' while we live. Let him 
 often be reminded of us; and let the love 
 which he now feels for us be carefully cher- 
 ished. 1 could not bear to be forgotten by the 
 little one, who was so long my only earthly 
 comfort." Then she mentions some necessa- 
 ry qualifications of those, who take charge of 
 her little son. They must be " conscientious 
 and pious a family over whom religion, prac- 
 tical and heartfelt religion, maintains a con-
 
 202 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 stant influence. Oh ! may he fall into the 
 hands of persons, who will watch vigilantly 
 over him, and detect and check the first de- 
 velopments of the natural heart ; persons who 
 desire above all things, that their children be- 
 come pious, and whose daily walk and conver- 
 sation be such as a little immortal may safely 
 imitate. But, alas ! who can have for my poor 
 child the feelings of a mother? Whose heart 
 can be so tenderly alive to every development 
 of his little mind 1 Who will retire to weep 
 and pray, as I have done, when there is danger 
 of swerving from the right path ? But I must 
 not distrust my Heavenly Father. I have com- 
 mitted my child to his keeping ; and I pray 
 daily that his steps may be guided and directed 
 from above. * * * Separated as Georgie 
 is from me, I feel anxious to hear aJl about him 
 that I can; and wish you would furnish the 
 lady who is to take charge of him with a small 
 blank-book, to keep a journal of his health, 
 conduct, studies, &/c. &c. I feel particularly 
 positive on this point, and cannot be denied. 
 Do not, I entreat you, place him with any per- 
 son, who will not keep such a journal, writing 
 it at least as often as once a week, and forward 
 the books to me by every opportunity. I do 
 not hesitate to say, that a person, who could
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 203 
 
 refuse or neglect this, ought not to have the 
 care of my little boy. It would operate as a 
 strong incentive to good conduct on the part 
 of the child, to know that a faithful account of 
 all his actions was to be sent to his mother ; 
 but still it is better to make the love and fear 
 of God the great motive by which he is influ- 
 enced." 
 
 The editress of the Mother's Journal re-, 
 marks, in her Obituary Notice, that Mrs. Jud- 
 son's friends in America were afraid to take 
 charge of little George ; " for so perfect had 
 been his mother's work in training him thus 
 far, that they should fear they would only mar 
 what had been done." Mrs. Ballister, the 
 wife of the American Consul at Singapore, 
 became very fond of him, and expressed the 
 greatest astonishment, that a child born, and 
 thus far bred, in an Asiatic country, could 
 have made such progress in mind, manners, 
 and morals ; and the friends who had charge 
 of him, wrote from the same place, " He causes 
 us no trouble, since he only needs to under- 
 stand what we wish of him, and he is ready to 
 do it." 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, Mrs. Judson wrote 
 to a friend, some years later, and when she 
 had other children about her, " I think I made 
 18
 
 204 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 one mistake in the management of George ; 
 but I trust the effect has been obviated by his 
 being so earlv thrown, in some degree, upon 
 his own resources. I allowed him to lean too 
 much on others, instead of studying to 
 strengthen his character, as T now see would 
 have been better. I shall endeavour to teach 
 my other children more independence." 
 
 We cannot do better here than add short 
 extracts from a couple of letters, written many 
 years afterward, when the mother's earnest 
 prayers had been answered, and her faith had 
 received the richest of all rewards : 
 
 " My Beloved George The last letter which 
 I received from America respecting you, re- 
 joiced my heart more than the reception of any 
 letter before in my life. It was from Doct. 
 Bolles, and contained the joyful intelligence of 
 your hopeful conversion to God. Still I am not 
 fully satisfied I am longing to hear that you 
 ' daily grow in grace and in the knowledge of 
 our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' " 
 
 " This is the fifteenth anniversary of your 
 birth-day; and I feel it to be I had almost 
 said, the most important period in your life. 
 At least it is very, very important, as on the 
 turn which you now take, your course through 
 life will probably depend. Oh, how comfort-
 
 THE MOTHER AND CHILD. 205 
 
 ing to my anxious heart is the thought, that 
 you have decided on the most momentous of 
 all subjects, and that you have decided right ; 
 that you have determined to identify yourself 
 with the people of God, by leading the life of 
 a humble follower of the blessed Jesus. Oh, 
 how full of anguish would my soul be, now 
 that you have arrived at this age, had I not a 
 hope, that you were a Christian ! Blessed be 
 God ! I have this sweet, this cheering, this 
 most consoling of all hopes, to sustain my 
 heart when ready to sink, as it measures the 
 distance between us, or looks back upon my 
 long separation from you, my darling, eldest 
 son. Tears come to my eyes, and I am ready 
 to throw aside my pen, and obey the strong 
 impulse to weep, as I think of the endearments 
 of your infancy, and the sweetness of your 
 childhood, when your soft cheek was pressed 
 to mine, and all your little griefs buried and 
 forgotten in my bosom. I always think of you 
 as the little, innocent, prattling boy you then 
 were. I would fain ever think of you as such ; 
 but the picture must change ; and I must try 
 to imagine you growing up to be a tall, young 
 man. 
 
 " I said before, that it is an unspeakable joy 
 to my heart that you are hopefully pious.
 
 206 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Still, I am far from being free from anxiety on 
 your account. There is, you know, a possi- 
 bility of our being deceived. And even if we 
 jvre able to say, as we doubtless may be, ' I 
 know that I have passed from death unto life,' 
 yet the Christian's path is beset with snares 
 and dangers. No doubt you have already had 
 severe struggles with remaining sin in your 
 heart. I feel strong and peculiar desires, that 
 you become a truly conscientious, prayerful, 
 devoted Christian. Be not contented with pos- 
 sessing a mere hope in Christ, that He will 
 pardon your sins and save you at last. Live 
 with religion in daily exercise in your soul. 
 Then you will you must be happy. Can you 
 resolve to devote your whole life to the service 
 of your blessed Saviour ? Do you really give 
 Him your heart, and determine, (with His as- 
 sistance, which He will surely grant in answer 
 to prayer,) never to do, nor say, nor think any- 
 thing contrary to His holy will ? True reli- 
 gion, always in exercise, affords the only cer- 
 tain retreat from the sorrows, and trials, and 
 sins of this mortal state. 
 
 ' Draw nigh unto God, and he will draw 
 nigh unto you.' 
 
 ' Pray without ceasing.' 
 
 ' Watch unto prayer.' "
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 
 
 " Oh ! who could "bear life's stormy doom. 
 
 Did not Thy -wing of love 
 Come brightly wafting through the gloom. 
 
 Our peace-branch from above ?" 
 
 Moore. 
 
 N less than half-a-dozen years after her 
 second marriage, Mrs. Judson thus 
 wrote to her parents : " My beloved 
 husband has been troubled with a cough for 
 about six months ; and, unless speedily re- 
 moved, it must terminate in pulmonary con- 
 sumption. It seems to me, that it would be 
 pleasant to die with him, but oh ! how could I 
 live without him ? I have already passed 
 through many trying scenes ; but now, were it 
 not for the sure promise, " As thy day is," so 
 shall thy strength be," I should yield to utter 
 despondency, at the sad prospect before me." 
 
 Of all destroyers, she had reason to dread 
 this the most; and now it was standing a 
 18*
 
 208 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JITDSON. 
 
 second time on her threshold. There was the 
 ominous cough, the shortened breath, and the 
 pain in the side all familiar things to her ; 
 then followed an entire failure of voice, and a 
 consequent suspension of pastoral duties ; and 
 finally books of study were abandoned, and a 
 sea-voyage became the last resort. 
 
 There is nothing on earth so beautiful, as 
 the household on which love forever smiles, 
 and where religion walks, a counsellor and 
 friend. No cloud can darken it, for its twin- 
 stars are centred in the soul ; no storm can 
 make it tremble it has an earthly support, the 
 gift of Heaven, and a heavenly anchor. But 
 the roof beneath which it dwells shelters a 
 sacred spot, where the curious eye must not 
 peer, nor the stranger-foot tread. So is it with 
 the warm, soul-breathing missives now beside 
 me. I would fain copy enough of them, to 
 show how the one flower, which seems to have 
 been spared us from the wreck of Eden, 
 gathered sweetness, when shadowed by the 
 Cross ; but my pen shrinks from desecrating 
 their beauty. At this moment, however, a pair 
 of young, dark eyes rise before me, that will 
 read the page with the interest of an only and 
 beloved daughter, and then turn back tearfully 
 to the sad, sweet scenes, which she cannot yet
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 209 
 
 have entirely forgotten. For her sake, shall a 
 few passages be written down, that may, per- 
 haps, recall lost fragments of the picture now 
 in her heart. 
 
 " As soon as you left the house, I ran to 
 your dressing-room, and watched you from the 
 window. But you did not look up oh, how I 
 wished you would ! Then I hastened to the 
 back verandah, and caught one last glimpse^of 
 you through the trees ; * * and I gave vent 
 to my feelings in a flood of tears. 
 
 " Then the children came around me, ask- 
 ing to go to the wharf, and the women looked 
 their wishes; and though I said 'no,' to the 
 little ones, I could not deny the others. After 
 they were gone, I took all three of our darlings 
 into your own little room, told them why you 
 had gone away, and asked Abby Ann and 
 Adoniram, if they wished me to ask God to 
 take care of papa, while he was gone. They 
 said ' yes ;' and so I put Elnathan down on 
 the floor to play, and, kneeling beside the other 
 two, committed you and ourselves to the care 
 of our Heavenly Father." After mentioning 
 the return of the Burman women from the 
 wharf, she speaks of other prayers ; and in 
 this connection, adds, "I never heard more 
 appropriate petitions from the native Chris- 

 
 210 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 tians. They prayed for you, for me, and for 
 the children, in just such a manner as I wished 
 them to pray. Mah Klah and Mah Tee could 
 scarce proceed for sobs and tears. Oh ! who 
 would not prefer the sincere, disinterested love 
 of these simple, warm-hearted Christians, to 
 all the applause and adulation of the world, or 
 even to the more refined, but too often selfish 
 reg.rd of our equals in mental cultivation and 
 religious knowledge ! Ko Manboke says, he 
 has only one request to make, and that is, if 
 you must die, he begs you will come back to 
 Maulmain, and die in the midst of the disci- 
 ples, who love you so dearly." 
 
 " How sweet is the thought that, when you 
 go into the presence of God, you always pray 
 for me, and for our dear children ! We have 
 family worship mornings, in the sleeping-room. 
 Abby and Pwen* kneel, one on each side of 
 me, and after I have read and prayed I teach 
 them the Lord's prayer. I make them repeat 
 it distinctly, only two or three words at a time. 
 They both sit at the table with me, Pwen 
 occupying his beloved father's place. But 
 these things do not beguile my loneliness. 
 
 # Pwen, a flower. A name given to Adoniram by 
 the natives.
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 211 
 
 Oh, when shall I see you again, here, in your 
 old seat ?" 
 
 " Your little daughter and I have been pray- 
 ing for you this evening. She is now in bed, 
 and I am sitting by my study-table, where I 
 spend all my time after evening worship, except 
 what is devoted to the children. I wish, my 
 love, that you would pray for one object in 
 particular that I may be assisted in commu- 
 nicating divine truth to the minds of these 
 little immortals. * * * At times the sweet 
 hope that you will soon return, restored to 
 perfect health, buoys up my spirit ; but per- 
 haps you will find it necessary to go farther, 
 a necessity from which I cannot but shrink 
 with doubt and dread ; or you may come back 
 only to die with me. This last agonizing 
 thought crushes me down in overwhelming 
 sorrow. I hope I do not feel unwilling, that 
 our Heavenly Father should do as He thinks 
 best with us ; but my heart shrinks from the 
 prospect of living in this sinful, dark, friend- 
 less world, without you. But I feel that I do 
 wrong to anticipate sorrows. God has pro- 
 mised strength only for to-day ; and, in infinite 
 mercy, He shuts the future from our view. 
 I know that there is small ground for hope 
 few ever recover from your disease ; but it may
 
 212 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 be, that God will restore you to health, for the 
 sake of His suffering cause. I do not deserve 
 it ; and I have often wondered that I should 
 have been so singularly blessed, as to possess 
 that heart, which is far more precious than all 
 the world beside. But the most satisfactory 
 view of our condition is to look away to that 
 blissful world, where separations are unknown. 
 There, my beloved Judson, we. shall surely 
 meet each other ; and we shall also meet many 
 loved ones, who have gone before us to that 
 haven of rest." 
 
 " After worship at the chapel, several of the 
 native Christians came in ; and we all mingled 
 our tears together. They each in turn com- 
 mitted their absent pastor (father, they called 
 you) to God, and prayed for your restoration 
 to health, and speedy return to us, with a fer- 
 vour, which I felt at the time must prevail." 
 
 And so it did. The husband, father, and 
 pastor returned from his long absence, much 
 improved in health ; so much so, that before the 
 close of the year, Mrs. Judson thus speaks of 
 him to her American friends : " My husband 
 preached on the last four Lord's-days ; and oh, 
 how happy I am to be able to say that he has 
 received no material injury from thus using 
 his voice. After months of anxiety, how de-
 
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 213 
 
 lightful to find cause to hope that his life will 
 be spared for many years, to bless his family 
 and the poor, perishing Burmans." 
 
 This year was so much broken by the cares 
 and anxieties, growing out of her husband's 
 illness, that she could scarce be expected to 
 follow her literary pursuits to the same advan- 
 tage as formerly ; but yet they were by no 
 means neglected. She commenced a transla- 
 tion of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress ; and in 
 November she says, " I am now engaged in 
 writing questions on the Acts of the Apostles, 
 in Burmese, for the use of Bible Classes and 
 Sabbath Schools. We have a Sabbath School, 
 numbering nearly a hundred children, and a 
 Bible Class of twenty adults." 
 
 In another letter she says, " My little family 
 occupies nearly all my time ; and if I have a 
 leisure hour, now and then, I feel that it ought 
 to be devoted to the instruction of the ignorant 
 native Christians, or the still more ignorant 
 and degraded heathen." 
 
 The same willingness to take the place in 
 her Master's vineyard pointed out by his 
 finger, which influenced her in the study of 
 the Peguan, was manifest through life. In the 
 savage haunts of the Karen wilderness, with 
 listening hundreds at her feet, or teaching the
 
 214 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 infant-lisper on her knee to raise its little 
 heart to heaven poring over her books till 
 hand and head both ached from weariness, or 
 whispering the magic words, which could 
 cheer her husband's heart in the midst of his 
 toilsome labours teaching, counselling, and 
 praying, surrounded by dusky faces and darker 
 natures, or turning to the simplest and com- 
 monest domestic duty to her, it was all the 
 same. " Whatever her hand found to do" was 
 done earnestly, and with ready will. There is 
 many a fashionable English lady, from whose 
 heart her words cannot depart, till the heart 
 has ceased its beatings ; and her missionary 
 sisters will long remember the low pleadings 
 of her voice, in the social prayer-meeting, and 
 the maternal gatherings instituted for them- 
 selves and their children. It was for a meet- 
 ing of this kind, that the following sweet 
 hymn, which afterwards appeared in the Mo- 
 ther's Journal, was written : 
 
 "MOTHER'S LITANY. 
 
 " Lamb of God, enthroned on high, 
 Look on us with pitying eye, 
 While we raise our earnest cry, 
 
 For our babes, to thee.
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 215 
 
 Once thy followers infants spurned, 
 But thy bosom o'er them yearned, 
 Nor from Canaan's daughter turned 
 Thy all-pitying eye. 
 
 Thou did'st give our spirits rest, 
 When with sin and grief oppressed, 
 In thy gentle, loving breast 
 
 Shelter, then, our babes. 
 
 Breath divine they breathe, and wear 
 God's own image ; yet they bear 
 Sin and guilt, a fearful share, 
 Pity them, we pray. 
 
 Guide and guard them here below, 
 
 As through dangerous paths they go, 
 
 Be their joy 'mid earthly woe, 
 
 Thou, their Heavenly Friend. 
 
 When, to call thy children home, 
 Robed in glory, thou shalt come, 
 For these little ones make room, 
 
 Lamb of God, we pray." 
 
 About the middle of the ensuing year, the 
 children, now four in number, were seized 
 with the whooping-cough, from which they 
 suffered three or four months ; and before they 
 entirely recovered three of them were attacked 
 by the disease of the bowels, so alarming in a 
 tropical climate. During these troubles, the 
 19
 
 216 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 mother was suddenly prostrated ; and, so low 
 was she brought, that her friends expected 
 momentarily to see her close her eyes in her 
 last sleep. She afterward says, " The dear 
 sisters of the mission came to give me a last 
 look and pressure of the hand, for I was too 
 far gone to speak. The poor children, three 
 of whom were ill, were sent away ; and my 
 husband devoted his whole time to taking care 
 of me. I felt sure that my hour of release 
 from this world had come that my Master 
 was calling me ; and blessed be God ! I was 
 entirely willing to leave all, and go to him." 
 
 As soon as she had gained strength enough 
 to be removed, she was invited to take up her 
 residence, in the family of Capt. Impey, an 
 English officer, who was passing the hot season 
 on the sea-shore at Amherst. The invitation, 
 which included her children, was gratefully 
 accepted, and she left home, taking with her 
 the three little ones that were ill. For a time 
 all seemed to be gradually improving ; but she 
 was finally attacked with cold, followed by 
 fever ; and at the end of the season, both her- 
 self and children returned to Maulmain, in a 
 worse condition than they left it. The physi- 
 cians now pronounced the mother and two 
 elder children to be in imminent danger, and
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 217 
 
 recommended a sea-voyage, as affording the 
 only hope of recovery. The whole family 
 accordingly took passage in a vessel bound for 
 Calcutta; but by this time the South-west 
 Monsoon was raging, and the voyage, although 
 as pleasant as circumstances would admit, was 
 tempestuous, and for invalids, exceedingly un- 
 comfortable. 
 
 " We had been out only four days," says 
 Mrs. Judson, " when we struck on shoals, and 
 for about twenty minutes were expecting to 
 see the large, beautiful vessel a wreck ; and 
 then all on board must perish, or at best take 
 refuge in a small boat, exposed to the dreary 
 tempests. I shall never forget my feelings, as 
 I looked over the side of the vessel that night, 
 on the dark ocean, and fancied ourselves with 
 our poor sick, and almost dying children, 
 launched on its stormy waves. The captain 
 tacked as soon as possible, and the tide rising 
 at the time, we were providentially delivered 
 from our extreme peril." During this scene 
 Mrs. Judson evinced her characteristic thought- 
 fulness and presence of mind ; for while con- 
 fusion reigned throughout the ship, she crept 
 from her berth, and with her own weak hand, 
 filled a small trunk with articles which would
 
 218 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 be necessary, if they were driven to take 
 refuge in the boat. 
 
 On reaching their destination, it was thought 
 advisable to take a house at. Serampore, in 
 preference to Calcutta; but even here she 
 says, " The weather was very unfavourable. 
 At one time it was so oppressively hot, that 
 we could scarcely breathe, and the next hour 
 the cold, bleak winds would come whistling 
 in, at the high windows, completely chilling 
 the poor little invalids." These circumstances 
 were certainly far from favourable to recovery, 
 and medical advisers urged the necessity of 
 putting to sea again. Inquiries were accord- 
 ingly made concerning vessels bound for the 
 Isle of France, but they were at first very un- 
 satisfactory. Mrs. Judson continues her nar- 
 rative : " That same day, Captain Hamlin, of 
 the ship Ramsay, called to see us. He was a 
 pious man, whom we had before seen; and 
 though he had not the slightest intimation of 
 our wish to go to the Mauritius, he offered us a 
 passage to that place, and thence to Maulmain. 
 His ship was to sail in ten days." Still, in 
 consideration of the length of the voyage, the 
 time it would consume, and its tediousness 
 during the stormy season, they hesitated ; but 
 only for a short time. " Dear little Enna"
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 219 
 
 (Elnathan) "had an alarming relapse, and 
 Pwen and Abby were growing worse daily. 
 Henry's symptoms appeared more favourable ; 
 but I was extremely weak, and finally, in addi- 
 tion to all the rest, I was again attacked with 
 my old complaint. You may fancy, in some 
 degree, what a fatiguing time my poor husband 
 must have had, watching over us all, night and 
 day." These circumstances did not admit of 
 unnecessary delay. The ship was on the point 
 of sailing ; and Mrs. Judson, with her first 
 slight accession of strength, was obliged to 
 hasten to Calcutta, to make some preparations, 
 which required her personal superintendence. 
 She continues : " Accordingly on the morn- 
 ing of the 23d, I went with the two older 
 children, Abby and Pwen, on board the boat. 
 Henry was as well as he had been for weeks, 
 and we had never thought him dangerous. As 
 for Elnathan, we considered him almost well. 
 While in Calcutta, the two children with me 
 grew worse ; Pwen, in addition to his previous 
 illness, being seized with a fever, which I 
 feared would prove fatal. I engaged a skilful 
 surgeon, and he soon succeeded in reducing 
 the fever ; but he gave me little encourage- 
 ment in either of their cases. He said a sea- 
 voyage was their only chance, and if we could 
 19*
 
 220 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 manage to keep Pwen from getting worse, until 
 the ship should sail, it was the utmost we could 
 expect. 
 
 During these trials, I heard from Serampore 
 every day, and the accounts were for some 
 time favourable. But on the morning of the 
 29th, my husband's note, dated the day before, 
 said that Henry was not so well, and that 
 Elnathan was ill of fever, apparently from 
 having taken sudden cold. I determined to 
 leave, at once, for Serampore ; but on inquiry, 
 I ascertained, that the tide would not turn till 
 six o'clock in the evening. My friends begged 
 me to wait till the next morning, but I could 
 not listen to their entreaties, though I appre- 
 hended no real danger in the cases of my 
 absent little ones. At sunset, I put Abby and 
 Pwen to bed inside the boat, and took my 
 dreary watch outside. Oh, what a long and 
 desolate night that was to me ! It was at the 
 neap tides ; and for the last four or five miles 
 the men were unable to row, but pushed the 
 boat up the stream with long bamboos. The 
 moon was setting, and I shall never forget the 
 melancholy feelings which crept over me, while 
 I watched the long shadows of the trees on the 
 darkening waters. My anxiety was heightened 
 by hearing poor Pwen cough frequently, as
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 221 
 
 though he had taken cold. The fear, that the 
 children might be injured by their exposure, 
 induced me to oppose every proposition to an- 
 chor, and also to urge the boatmen onward by 
 every means in my power. At two o'clock we 
 reached home. My dear husband met me at 
 the door, and as he embraced me, said, 'Oh, 
 my love, you have come to the house of 
 death !' 
 
 ' What ! oh, what is it ?' 
 
 ' Dear little Henry is dying.' 
 
 I flew to him, but oh, how changed ! I had 
 left him a bright little boy, running about the 
 floor, with cheeks far from having lost their 
 plumpness. Now, his eyes were dim, his cheek 
 colourless, and his little form so emaciated, 
 that, in the sincerity of my heart, I involun- 
 tarily exclaimed, ''Can this be Henry!' Still 
 I was relieved to find, that he was not actually 
 in the agonies of the death-struggle. He ap- 
 peared so intelligent, that I still had hope. 
 
 ' Drink ! drink !' he called out. 
 
 I prepared him a little wine and water, and 
 was pleased to find that his stomach did not 
 reject it, as it had rejected everything during 
 the last twenty-four hours, whether food or 
 medicine. But when I beheld his countenance 
 by the light of day, in the morning, I saw that
 
 222 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 he could not live. During all this time, poor 
 Elnathan was lying in a violent fever, with his 
 head shaved, and a plaster on his chest. Truly, 
 my dear sister, we felt that the hand of God 
 was heavy upon us. But we bowed to His 
 will, not daring to murmur. In the forenoon, 
 while lying in his swing-cot, Henry looked at me 
 most affectionately, and stretched out his little 
 hands for me to take him. Oh, how glad I 
 was that I came up that night ! If I had wait- 
 ed till the next day, he would not have recog- 
 nized me." During the day, the little sufferer 
 endured violent convulsions, but he lingered 
 on till evening. She continues, " I had my 
 cot placed so that my head was close to his ; 
 and as I had been up all the night previous, 
 and was still far from well, I soon fell asleep. 
 Mr. Judson sat watching him, on the other 
 side. The first that I heard was a soft whis- 
 per, ' Henry, my dear son Henry !' The dear 
 little creature opened his eyes, and looked into 
 his papa's face, with all the intelligence and 
 earnestness he was wont in days of health. 
 But suddenly his countenance changed his 
 papa spoke to me I looked at him there 
 was one gasp, and then all was over. The 
 body had ceased from suffering the spirit was 
 at rest in the bosom of Jesus."
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 223 
 
 Both parents had seen much of sorrow be- 
 fore, but it is crime, not sorrow, that renders 
 the bosom callous ; and the existence of the 
 past did not blunt the sharp point of present 
 anguish. And even now, the survivor, who 
 has buried his dead at Rangoon, Amherst, 
 Maulmain, and St. Helena, has many a sweet, 
 mournful remembrance to give to " little Henry 
 of Serampore." 
 
 " He sleeps," says the mother, " in the Mis- 
 sion burial-ground, where moulders the dust of 
 Carey, Marshman, and Ward. We buried 
 him at evening ; and, while weeping at the 
 grave, I scarcely knew whether my tears fell 
 faster for Henry or Elnathan. 
 
 " Three days after, we left Calcutta, and on 
 the 16th, went on board the Ramsay." The 
 Monsoon was drawing to a close, and the 
 storms were more dangerous than during the 
 months previous. Frequent tempests, too sud- 
 den to allow of preparation, placed them in 
 great peril. Under date of Sept. 4th, Mrs. 
 Judson continues her letter : " Could you 
 now look on our dismasted vessel you would 
 indeed say, she is a ' ship in distress.' For 
 the last three days, we have had the most 
 frightful squalls I ever experienced ; and yes- 
 terday two top-masts, a top-gallant mast, and
 
 224 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 the jib-boom, with all their sails, were torn 
 away, causing a tremendous crash. For the 
 two last nights, I have not closed my eyes to 
 sleep, and I find it quite impossible to sleep 
 now. I have, therefore, taken my pen, though 
 the vessel rolls so, that I fear my writing will 
 be quite illegible. Do not infer from anything 
 I have said, that I am suffering from terror ; my 
 wakefulness has been occasioned only by bodily 
 discomfort, arising from the violent tossing of 
 the vessel. I thank God, that I feel perfectly 
 calm and resigned ; and I can leave myself 
 and my dear family in His hands, with a feel- 
 ing of perfect peace and composure." 
 
 This voyage, boisterous as it was, proved 
 beneficial, and was seconded by the bland airs 
 of the Isle of France ; so that the family at 
 last returned to Maulmain, bearing with them 
 only one invalid. Poor little " Pwen" was still 
 a sufferer ; and although he was considered 
 convalescent, it was a long time before he fully 
 recovered. 
 
 After these severe trials, Mrs. Judson re- 
 turned to her accustomed labours, walking in 
 the same toilsome, unostentatious path as be- 
 fore writing, translating, teaching, advising, 
 reproving, encouraging, and praying. Thus, 
 years passed by, scarce noted, except upon the
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 225 
 
 page of the Recording Angel. Some of the 
 literary performances of this closing part of 
 her life, are thus briefly mentioned in the 
 Obituary Notice, by her husband : " Her 
 translation of the Pilgrim's Progress, Part 1st, 
 into Burmese, is one of the best pieces of 
 composition which we have yet published. 
 Her translation of Mr. Boardman's ' Dying 
 Father's Advice,' has become one of our stand- 
 ard tracts ; and her hymns in Burmese, about 
 twenty in number, are probably the best in 
 our Chapel Hymn* Book a work which she 
 was appointed by the Mission to edit. Beside 
 these works, she published four volumes of 
 Scripture Questions, which are in constant 
 use in our Sabbath Schools." It has been re- 
 marked that the translation of the Pilgrim's 
 Progress into an Eastern tongue, is " a work 
 worth living for, if it were one's only perform- 
 ance." It was indeed a laborious work under 
 the circumstances, exceedingly laborious ; and 
 is performed as only one, who knew and loved 
 the language as she did, assisted by her native 
 genius, could perform it. She also contributed 
 some valuable articles to the Burmese news- 
 papers ; and in the absence of Mr. Stevens, 
 its able conductor, she was two or three times 
 called upon to take the editorial charge of it.
 
 226 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Her Sabbath Cards, with the breathings of her 
 devotional and poetic spirit yet warm upon 
 their surface, (her last, dying gift to the Bur- 
 man church,) circulated from hand to hand ; 
 her Scripture questions furnish hundreds of 
 bewildered minds with the clue to many a 
 fountain, bubbling over with the fresh waters 
 of truth and wisdom ; and her sweet hymns 
 are heard wherever the living God is worship- 
 ped, throughout this heathen land. The care 
 of a very young and increasing family, where 
 only the most inefficient service can be pro- 
 cured, would seem quite enough to occupy all 
 of a mother's attention ; but, how or when, 
 none knew, she managed to find many a mo- 
 ment, which future time will multiply to years 
 of usefulness. The inordinate desire for post- 
 humous fame, which is made so poetical by 
 those who wear out their lives in efforts to 
 win it, is really scarce less contemptible, than 
 any other utterly selfish passion vanity, or 
 even avarice. But it is a glorious thought to 
 the Christian, that he may still guide the faul- 
 tering footsteps of a brother, and add jewels 
 to his Master's crown, when his voice is hushed 
 in the grave, and his mouldering hand lies as 
 powerless as the dust with which it mingles. 
 And doubly sweet must be the consolations of
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 227 
 
 the dying-bed, when the glad prospect has not 
 been purchased at the expense of lowlier daily 
 duties. Such duties we have seen that Mrs. 
 Judson never neglected, and even in life she 
 reaped the sweet fruit of her toils. 
 
 " None knew her but to love her, 
 None named her but to praise," 
 
 is perhaps the shortest mode of expressing the 
 sentiments, that are heard in various forms, 
 from many a lip ; and this estimate is, by no 
 means, confined to her own countrywomen. 
 She avoided society, because it interfered with 
 important pursuits, and not from any approach 
 to ascetism ; but she still had warm friends 
 beyond the pleasant missionary circle. This 
 appreciation and love, however, was not her 
 sweetest reward. In April, 1844, she thus 
 writes, " The state of religion is now very in- 
 teresting in the Burman church. It would do 
 your heart good to look in upon our little 
 circle of praying Burman females. So humble, 
 so devout, so willing to confess their faults 
 before God and before one another, that I 
 sometimes think Christians, in a Christian 
 land, might well copy after them. I think 
 they do strive to walk in the footsteps of our 
 20 

 
 228 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 blessed Saviour. The study of the Scriptures 
 and social prayer seem to be greatly blessed to 
 their souls. Some of them have formed them- 
 selves into a Bible Class, and meet with me 
 once a week, for the purpose of studying the 
 Scriptures. They are now examining the 
 ' Life of Christ,' with ' Questions,' which I 
 prepared on the work some years ago. I think 
 it does my own soul good, thus to ponder over 
 the life of our blessed Lord. This Bible Class 
 has increased, from about five to upwards of 
 fifteen, within the last few months, and I see 
 no signs of the number's diminishing. Some 
 of them are quite elderly women, with gray 
 hairs. You would be pleased to see them, 
 with their spectacles on, sitting in a circle, 
 reading the life of our Lord Jesus Christ, and 
 conversing with each other, respecting their 
 duty. One of them, upwards of seventy years 
 old, amused me a few days ago, by saying she 
 was the same age of my little daughter Abby- 
 Ann. I asked her what she meant by that. 
 She replied that she was converted the year 
 that Abby-Ann was born, and it was not till 
 then that she began to live." 
 
 In the last of her letters that I have in my 
 possession, she says, " It is nineteen years, last 
 month, since I parted with you, and bade adieu
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 229 
 
 to my native land ; and I can say, with un- 
 feigned gratitude to God, that amid all the 
 vicissitudes through which I have been called 
 to pass, I have never, for one moment, regret- 
 ted that I had entered the missionary field. 
 We are not weary of our work it is in our 
 hearts to live and die among these people. I 
 feel conscious of being a most unworthy, and 
 unprofitable servant ; and I often wonder that 
 my life has been spared, while so many, to 
 human view so much more competent than 
 myself, have been cut down. ' Even so, 
 Father, for so it seemeth good in Thy sight.' " 
 These nineteen years had, of necessity, 
 wrought many changes ; but they were like the 
 changes which autumn perfects in the fruit- 
 buds of spring. The eye was not so full of 
 vivacity as formerly ; and there was at times a 
 pensive drooping of the lid, which spoke of 
 familiarity with tears ; but they were not tears 
 to dim the centred light of a quiet, serene I 
 had almost said holy happiness. The cheek 
 had lost some of its roundness, and the skin 
 its fairness ; but the beauty of the ripening 
 spirit had gradually stolen out upon the face, 
 and none could regret the exchange. The 
 step was not quite so elastic as in former days, 
 but it had gained in freedom and stateliness ;
 
 230 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 and though the figure exhibited none of the 
 fragility, sometimes mistaken for grace of out- 
 line and proportion, there was more than 
 enough to compensate, in the full, healthful 
 development, seen much oftener in the women 
 of England than those of America. The 
 fresh-hearted maiden was transformed into the 
 wife and mother ; the teacher of little bright- 
 cheeked New-England girls, was the guide of 
 gray-haired heathen women, blinded by idol- 
 atry ; but she was fresh-hearted still. Disap- 
 pointment had passed over her, but it had left 
 no blight ; sorrow had wrung tears from her 
 eyes, but they had fallen back upon her spirit, 
 a fertilizing dew ; trials had risen in her path, 
 like flames, to scorch and wither > but she 
 meekly bowed her heart to the Hand that sent 
 them, and so they consumed only the alloy, 
 and passed away, leaving the gold purified and 
 burnished ; and the death of beloved ones had 
 only served to unlock a door between her soul 
 and Heaven. Since the time of her first 
 child's death, her course had been gradually 
 upward. Her life had increased in holiness, 
 and her spirit in meekness ; for she had grown 
 familiar with the one spot, where the unquiet 
 human soul may find rest deep in the shadow 
 of the Cross. The first impulse of life, in
 
 
 
 TRIAL ON TRIAL. 231 
 
 the spirit of the young Christian, was, as the 
 quick, joyous up-shooting of the green blade 
 in spring. Next, her course through the world 
 was shaped the ear of corn was fashioned, 
 and stood in the field, light, graceful, and fresh 
 in summer verdure. But at length it began to 
 bow beneath the weight of its own wealth, the 
 green sheath gradually swelled with the in- 
 creasing richness of its treasure ; then the 
 grain grew golden with ripeness ; and angel- 
 reapers stood ready to dissever the drooping 
 stem, and bear home the perfected fruit to 
 the harvest of glory. 
 
 20*
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 
 
 "Her suffering ended with the day, 
 
 Tet lived she at its close ; 
 And breathed the long, long night away, 
 
 In statue-like repose. 
 
 But when the sun, in all his state. 
 
 Illumed the eastern skies, 
 She passed through Glory's morning-gate. 
 
 And walked in Paradise !" 
 
 Aldrich. 
 
 FTER the birth of a child, in De- 
 cember, 1844 the flaxen-haired, 
 -Jf sleek-shouldered boy, whose large, 
 melting blue eyes follow the movements of my 
 pen, in wondering-silence, as it traces these 
 lines Mrs. Judson visibly declined. She had 
 been some months previous to this event suf- 
 fering under the wasting disease, which had 
 followed close upon her track, like the shadow
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 
 
 of Death, since the first week of her arrival 
 in Burmah. But she had endured so much, 
 and yet lived, had so successfully resisted so 
 many times, that it seemed scarce possible 
 the place, which she had so long occupied in 
 the dear heaven of earthly love, must be for 
 ever darkened. The skill of the physician 
 was taxed to its utmost ; the kindness of the 
 friend and the tenderness of the husband, each 
 strove unweariedly, in turn and together 
 there were wet eyes, and bended knees, and 
 prayerful voices, but the Mighty One bent not 
 His ear : His own wisdom had marked for 
 her a better way than their affection had 
 power to devise. 
 
 A kind invitation from the Commissioner of 
 Maulmain to accompany his family in an ex- 
 cursion down the coast, gave her, for several 
 weeks, the benefit of sea-air ; and though she 
 speaks of her sufferings as sometimes inde- 
 scribably severe, during this voyage, and re- 
 turned, paler, thinner and weaker than she 
 left, it was still hoped, that she had made some 
 little improvement. But the hope soon faded ; 
 she declined from day to day always a little 
 thinner, and a little weaker, but cheerful still 
 till at last a voyage to America was named, as 
 presenting the only prospect of life. To
 
 234 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 America ! the land of her birth, and the home 
 of many a loved one ; where parents, broth- 
 ers and sisters still trod the soil, and where her 
 darling, her orphan boy might, once again, be 
 folded to her bosom ! Oh, should she visit 
 dear, Christian America once more? Yet 
 she could not leave those for whom she had 
 toiled and prayed, during twenty years of exile, 
 without sadness. Had it been right, she would 
 have preferred to die quietly in Burmah, rather 
 than interrupt her husband's labours ; and her 
 heart sunk at parting, for years, if not for life, 
 with the most helpless of her babes the eldest 
 of the three, only four years of age. But duty 
 demanded the sacrifice ; and she had too long 
 been obedient to this voice, to think of oppo- 
 sition now. They bore her to the ship, while 
 both fair and dusky faces circled round ; and 
 long did the sound of those loved, farewell 
 voices, half-smothered in grief and choked 
 with tears, dwell upon her ear and heart. 
 Near the Isle of France, hope of final recovery 
 grew so strong, that it became almost certainty, 
 (as much certainty as ever attends the pros- 
 pects of mortals,) and now a voice from poor, 
 perishing Burmah seemed calling on the in- 
 valid for one more sacrifice. She dared not 
 go back herself, but there seemed no longer a
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 235 
 
 necessity for calling her husband from his mis- 
 sionary labour. He should return to his lonely 
 home, and she, with her children, would pur- 
 sue a way as lonely toward the " setting sun." 
 It was after this resolution that the following 
 lines, the last words ever traced by her fingers, 
 were penciled on a scrap of broken paper : 
 
 " We part on this green islet, Love, 
 Thou for the Eastern main, 
 
 I, for the setting sun, Love 
 Oh, when to meet again ? 
 
 My heart is sad for thee, Love, 
 For lone thy way will be ; 
 
 And oft thy tears will fall, Love, 
 For thy children and for me. 
 
 The music of thy daughter's voice 
 Thou'lt miss for many a year ; 
 
 And the merry shout of thine elder boys, 
 Thou'lt list in vain to hear. 
 
 When we knelt to see our Henry die, 
 And heard his last faint moan, 
 
 Each wiped the tear from other's eye 
 Now, each must weep alone.
 
 236 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 My tears fall fast for thee, Love, 
 
 How can I say farewell ? 
 But go ; thy God be with thee, Love, 
 
 Thy heart's deep grief to quell ! 
 
 Yet my spirit clings to thine, Love, 
 
 Thy soul remains with me, 
 And oft we'll hold communion sweet, 
 
 O'er the dark and distant sea. 
 
 And who can paint our mutual joy, 
 When, all our wanderings o'er, 
 
 We both shall clasp our infants three, 
 At home, on Burmah's shore. 
 
 But higher shall our raptures glow, 
 
 On yon celestial plain, 
 When the loved and parted here below 
 
 Meet, ne'er to part again. 
 
 Then gird thine armor on, Love, 
 
 Nor faint thou by the way, 
 Till Boodh shall fall, and Burmah's sons 
 
 Shall own Messiah's sway." 
 
 " In all the missionary annals," says the 
 editor of the New- York Evangelist, "there 
 are few things more affecting than this. Mrs. 
 Judson's beautiful lines remind us of Bishop 
 Heber's verses addressed to his wife, ' If thou 

 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 237 
 
 vvert by my side, my love ;' but they are supe- 
 riour in deep, natural feeling. How exquisite 
 the references to her husband's anticipated 
 loneliness ! ' The music of thy daughter's 
 voice, thou'lt miss for many a year !' These 
 verses make us think of the refinement, the 
 exquisite sensibility, the tender affection, the 
 deep and fervent piety of many a missionary 
 wife among the heathen. Some of the most 
 admirable women ever born have laid down 
 their lives there, and some are still shedding 
 the sweet light and grace of their holy, patient 
 example, where few, besides the Saviour, can 
 see and appreciate their labours. Oh, great 
 will be their reward in heaven, when from 
 every ingredient of bitterness and trial, in their 
 earthly pilgrimage, there shall spring a harvest 
 of eternal blessedness and glory. There will 
 be no dearer, sweeter remembrances in heaven, 
 than those of the painful earthly trials of their 
 self-denying, desert-path for Christ. Dr. Jud- 
 son is an old Christian soldier, but he never 
 heard a more animating and sustaining word, 
 amidst his conflicts, than the parting song of 
 his wife. It will ring in his ear till he dies, 
 and then again he will hear her angel-voice in 
 heaven : 

 
 238 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 ' Then gird thine armor on, Love, 
 
 Nor faint thou by the way, 
 Till Boodh shall fall, and Burmah's sons 
 
 Shall own Messiah's sway !' " 
 
 But the anticipated sacrifice was not permit- 
 ted. After their arrival at the island, she 
 faded very perceptibly ; and " withering still 
 withering," was once again borne back to the 
 ship. And now we have the tender watching, 
 the grateful smile, the bitter anguish of antici- 
 pated separation, and the soothing voice of 
 love, winged for a flight to heaven ; and above, 
 and around, and closely blent with all ming- 
 ling, in dreams, in prayers, in hourly thoughts 
 and spirit-crushing anticipations, the sweet, 
 beautiful resignation, which none but the dis- 
 ciple of Christ can ever understand. Yet 
 must those blue waves indeed become the rest- 
 less sepulchre of her precious dust 1 It was a 
 sad thought ; not to her who lay in her sweet 
 smiles, waiting the withdrawal of her breath ; 
 but to him, the real sufferer, who leaned in 
 uncomplaining agony over her pillow. Yet 
 this, thank God ! is spared. Behold yon rocky 
 island ! we make for port ! 
 
 Whence the tears in those young eyes, as 
 the small feet draw near, and the lips are bent
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 239 
 
 to give the good-night kiss? and what means 
 the low, mournful, but inimitably sweet mur- 
 mur of voices, that swells and dies on the 
 evening air ? Oh, he that wept but at a broth- 
 er's death, must look with peculiar tenderness 
 on a scene like this ! childhood's last farewell 
 breathed on a mother's dying lips. 
 
 It is morning, and all is over. The white 
 " drapery of death lies quiet on the bosom 
 cold ;" and the wearied mourner sleeps peace- 
 fully, not far from the side of his beloved dead. 
 And now, small feet are again astir, and rosy 
 lips grow tremulous with sorrow. Turn we 
 from those tears and sobs ; for it is a mournful 
 thing to look upon the grief of little hearts, 
 for the first time wrung by the bitter anguish 
 of the world, and with but the voice of a be- 
 reaved father to soothe them. 
 
 Colours are floating at half-mast in various 
 directions ; men bear about with them sad 
 faces ; and yonder, in the deep, heavy shadow 
 of that overhanging-tree, they are breaking up 
 the earth for the missionary's grave. Now, 
 they lower the coffin over the vessel's side, and 
 arrange the mourners. They are blunt men, 
 but of a true and generous mould, that wear 
 the weeds of sympathetic sorrow ; for the heart 
 of the bold seaman is throbbing in their bo- 
 21
 
 240 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 soms ; and they recollect a fading figure, that 
 used sometimes to glide along the deck like a 
 spirit, wearing ever a beautiful spirit-smile. 
 Slowly and heavily beat the oars, and slowly, 
 boat behind boat, moves the mournful proces- 
 sion to the shore. The waiting crowd falls 
 back in silence ; and tears involuntarily creep 
 to stranger-eyes, as they look upon the little 
 group about to leave the dearest of earthly 
 treasures, and pursue their desolate journey, 
 widowed and orphaned. Now, softly lift her 
 to the bier, and give the heavy pall into gentle 
 fingers ! Let the sympathizing holders gather 
 in the coffin's track, and now move on ! 
 
 " Mournfully, tenderly, 
 Bear onward the dead, 
 Where the Warriour has lain, 
 Let the Christian be laid ; 
 No place more befitting, 
 Oh, Rock of the sea ! 
 Never such treasure 
 Was hidden in thee ! 
 
 Mournfully, tenderly, 
 Solemn and slow 
 Tears are bedewing 
 The path, as ye go ;
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 241 
 
 Kindred and strangers 
 Are mourners to-day ; 
 Gently so, gently 
 Oh, bear her away. 
 
 Mournfully, tenderly, 
 Gaze on that brow ; 
 Beautiful is it 
 In quietude now ! 
 One look and then settle 
 The loved to her rest, 
 The ocean beneath her, 
 The turf on her breast. 
 
 So have ye buried her 
 Up ! and depart, 
 To life and to duty, 
 With undismayed heart ! 
 Fear not ; for the love 
 Of the stranger will keep 
 The casket that lies 
 In the Rock of the deep. 
 
 Peace, peace to thy bosom, 
 Thou servant of God ! 
 The vale thou art treading, 
 Thou hast before trod :
 
 242 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Precious dust tbou hast laid 
 By the Hopia tree, 
 And treasure as precious 
 In the Rock of the sea."* 
 
 With the shaded grave at St. Helena, close 
 I my tale ; having reserved, for these last pages, 
 some of the reminiscences, penned soon after 
 his deep bereavement, by one who knew and 
 loved the sleeper well. 
 
 After giving a brief sketch of her life, the 
 Obituary thus continues : " Her bereaved hus- 
 band is the more desirous of bearing this testi- 
 mony to her various attainments, her labours 
 and her worth, from the fact that her own 
 unobtrusive and retiring disposition always led 
 her to seek the shade ; as well as, from the 
 fact that she was often brought into comparison 
 with one whose life and character was uncom- 
 monly interesting and brilliant. The Memoir 
 of his first beloved wife has been long before 
 the public. It is, therefore, most gratifying to 
 his feelings to be able to say in truth, that the 
 subject of this notice was, in every point of 
 natural and moral excellence, the worthy suc- 
 cessor of Ann H. Judson. He constantly 
 thanks God that he has been blest with two of 
 
 * H. S. Washbum.
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 243 
 
 the best of wives ; he deeply feels that he has 
 not improved those rich blessings as he ought ; 
 and it is most painful to reflect, that from the 
 peculiar pressure of the missionary life, he has 
 sometimes failed to treat those dear beings 
 with that consideration, attention, and kind- 
 ness, which their situation in a foreign heathen 
 land ever demanded. 
 
 But to show the forgiving and grateful dis- 
 position of the subject of this sketch, and 
 somewhat to elucidate her character, he would 
 add that a few days before her death, he called 
 her children to her bedside, and said, in their 
 hearing, ' I wish, my love, to ask pardon for 
 every unkind word or deed of which I have 
 ever been guilty. I feel that I have, in many 
 instances, failed of treating you with that 
 kindness and affection which you have ever 
 deserved.' * Oh,' said she, ' you will kill me if 
 you talk so. It is I that should ask pardon of 
 you ; and I only want to get well, that I may 
 have an opportunity of making some return 
 for all your kindness, and of showing you how 
 much I love you.' 
 
 This recollection of her dying bed, leads 
 
 me to say a few words relative to the closing 
 
 scenes of her life. After her prostration at 
 
 the Isle of France, where we spent three 
 
 21*
 
 244 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 weeks, there remained but little expectation of 
 her recovery. Her hope had long been fixed 
 on the Rock of Ages, and she had been in the 
 habit of contemplating death as neither distant 
 nor undesirable. As it drew near, she re- 
 mained perfectly tranquil. No shade of doubt, 
 or fear, or anxiety, ever passed over her mind. 
 She had a prevailing preference to depart and 
 be with Christ. ' I am longing to depart,' and 
 ' what can I want besides V quoting the lan- 
 guage of a familiar hymn, were the expres- 
 sions which revealed the spiritual peace and 
 joy of her mind ; yet, at times, the thought of 
 her native land, to which she was approaching 
 after an absence of twenty years, and a longing 
 desire to see once more her son George, her 
 parents, and the friends of her youth, drew 
 down her ascending soul, and constrained her 
 to say, ' I am in a strait betwixt two, let 
 the will of God be done.' 
 
 In regard to her children she ever manifested 
 the most surprising composure and resignation, 
 so much so, that I was once induced to say, 
 * You seem to have forgotten the dear little 
 onss we have left behind.' ' Can a mother 
 
 forget' she replied, and was unable to 
 
 proceed. During her last days, she spent 
 much of her time in praying for the early con-
 
 '- 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 245 
 
 version of her children. May her living and 
 her dying prayers draw down the blessing of 
 God on their bereaved heads. 
 
 On our passage homeward, as the strength 
 of Mrs. J. gradually declined, I expected to be 
 under the painful necessity of burying her in 
 the sea. But it was so ordered in Divine 
 Providence, that when the indications of ap- 
 proaching death had become strongly marked, 
 the ship came to anchor in the port of St. 
 Helena.. For three days she continued to sink 
 rapidly, though her bodily sufferings were not 
 very severe. Her mind became liable to wan- 
 der, but a single word was sufficient to recall 
 and steady her recollections. On the evening 
 of the 31st of August, she appeared to be 
 drawing near to the end of her pilgrimage. 
 The children took leave of her and retired to 
 rest. I sat alone by the side of her bed during 
 the hours of the night, endeavoring to admin- 
 ister relief to the distressed body and conso- 
 lation to the departing soul. At two o'clock 
 in the morning, wishing to obtain one more 
 token of recognition, I roused her attention, 
 and said, ' Do you still love the Saviour ?' 
 ' Oh yes,' she replied, ' I ever love the Lord 
 Jesus Christ.' I said again, ' Do you still love 
 me?' She replied in the affirmative, by a pc-
 
 246 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JITDSON. 
 
 culiar expression of her own. 'Then give 
 me one more kiss ;' and we exchanged that 
 token of love for the last time. Another hour 
 passed, life continued to recede, and she 
 ceased to breathe. For a moment I traced 
 her upward flight, and thought of the wonders 
 which were opening to her view. I then 
 closed her sightless eyes, dressed her, for the 
 last time, in the drapery of death ; and being 
 quite exhausted with many sleepless nights, I 
 threw myself down and slept. On awaking in 
 the morning, I saw the children standing and 
 weeping around the body of their dear mother, 
 then, for the first time, inattentive to their 
 cries. In the course of the day, a coffin was 
 procured from the shore, in which I placed all 
 that remained of her whom I had so much 
 loved ; and after a prayer had been offered by 
 a dear brother minister from the town, the 
 Rev. Mr. Bertram, we proceeded in boats to 
 the shore. There we were met by the Colo- 
 nial chaplain, and accompanied to the burial- 
 ground by the adherents and friends of Mr. 
 Bertram, and a large concourse of the inhabit- 
 ants. They had prepared the grave in a beau- 
 tiful, shady spot, contiguous to the grave of 
 Mrs. Chater, a missionary from Ceylon, who 
 had died in similar circumstances on her pas-
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 247 
 
 sage home. There I saw her safely deposited ; 
 and in the language of prayer, which we had 
 often presented together at the throne of grace, 
 I blessed God that her body had attained the 
 repose- of the grave, and her spirit the repose 
 of Paradise. After the funeral, the dear friends 
 of Mr. Bertram took me to their houses and 
 their hearts ; and their conversation and pray- 
 ers afforded me unexpected relief and conso- 
 lation. But I was obliged to hasten on board 
 ship, and we immediately went to sea. On 
 the' following morning no vestige of the island 
 was discernible in the distant horizon. For a 
 few days, in the solitude of my cabin, with my 
 poor children crying around me, I could not 
 help abandoning myself to heart-breaking sor- 
 row. But the promises of the gospel came to 
 my aid, and faith stretched her view to the 
 bright world of eternal life, .and anticipated a 
 happy meeting with those beloved beings, 
 whose bodies are mouldering at Amherst and 
 St. Helena. 
 
 I exceedingly regret that there is no portrait 
 of the second, as of the first Mrs. Judson. 
 Her soft blue eye, her mild aspect, her lovely 
 face and elegant form, have never been delin- 
 eated on canvass. They must soon pass away 
 from the memory, even of her children ; but
 
 248 MEMOIR OF SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 they will remain for ever enshrined in her hus- 
 band's heart. 
 
 To my friends at St. Helena, I am under 
 great obligations. Receiving the body of the 
 deceased from my hands as a sacred deposit, 
 they united with our kind captain, in defraying 
 all the expenses of the funeral, and promised 
 to take care of the grave, and superintend the 
 erection of the grave-stones, which I am to 
 forward ; and on which I propose to place the 
 following inscription : 
 
 Sacred to the Memory of Sarah B. Judson, 
 member of the American Baptist Mission to 
 Burmah ; formerly wife of the Rev. George D. 
 Boardman, of Tavoy, and lately, wife of the 
 Rev. Adoniram Judson, of Maulmain, who 
 died in this port Sept. 1, 1845, on her passage 
 to the United States, in the 42d year of her 
 age, and the 21st of her missionary life. 
 
 She sleeps sweetly here on this rock of the ocean, 
 Away from the home of her youth, ' 
 
 And far from the land where with heartfelt devotion, 
 She scattered the bright beams of truth."
 
 A TRIBUTE. 249 
 
 A TRIBUTE. 
 
 OFT ST. HELENA, ATJQtTST, 1846. 
 
 Blow softly, gales ! a tender sigh 
 
 Is flung upon your wing ; 
 Lose not the treasure, as ye fly, 
 Bear it where love and beauty lie, 
 
 Silent and withering. 
 
 Flow gently, waves ! a tear is laid 
 Upon your heaving breast ; 
 
 Leave it within yon dark rock's shade, 
 
 Or weave it in an iris braid, 
 To crown the Christian's rest. 
 
 Bloom, ocean-isle ! lone ocean-isle ! 
 
 Thou keep'st a jewel rare ; 
 Let rugged rock and dark defile, 
 Above the slumbering stranger smile, 
 
 And deck her couch with care. 
 
 Weep, ye bereaved ! a dearer head 
 
 Ne'er left the pillowing breast ; 
 The good, the pure, the lovely fled, 
 When, mingling with the shadowy dead, 
 She meekly went to rest.
 
 250 MEMOIR OP SARAH B. JUDSON. 
 
 Mourn, Burmah, mourn ! a bow which span- 
 
 Thy cloud, has passed away ; [ned 
 
 A flower has withered on thy sand, 
 A pitying spirit left thy strand ; 
 A saint has ceased to pray. 
 
 Angels, rejoice ! another string 
 
 Has caught the strains above ; 
 Rejoice, rejoice ! a new-fledged wing 
 Around the Throne is hovering, 
 In sweet, glad, wondering love. 
 
 Blow, blow, ye gales ! wild billows roll ! 
 
 Unfurl the canvass wide ! 
 On ! where she laboured lies our goal ; 
 Weak, timid, frail, yet would my soul 
 
 Fain be to hers allied. 
 
 T\