APPENDIX. (continued 2)

“No—oh, no; I am a true worshipper of Lord Gaudama; but of course neither you nor I subscribe to all the fables of our respective religions. There is quite enough that is honest and reasonable in our Boodhistic system to satisfy me, but my little son” (here the father seemed embarrassed, and laughed again, as though to cover his confusion) “is bent on philosophical investigation—eh, Moung-Moung?”

“But are you not afraid that my teachings will do the child harm?”

The visitor looked up with a broad smile of admiration, as though he would have said, “You are a very honest fellow, after all;” then regarding 597the child with a look of mingled tenderness and apprehension, he said softly, “Nothing can harm little Moung-Moung, sir.”

“But what if I should tell you I do believe everything I preach, as firmly as I believe you sit on the mat before me; and that it is the one desire of my life to make everybody else believe it—you and your child among the rest?”

The Sah-ya tried to smile, tried to look unconcerned; but his easy nonchalance of manner seemed utterly to forsake him in his need; and finally abandoning the attempt to renew his former tone of banter, he answered quietly, “I have heard of a writing you possess, which, by your leave, I will take home and read to Moung-Moung.”

The missionary selected a little tract from the parcel on the table beside him, and extended it to his visitor. “Sah-ya,” said he, solemnly, “I herewith put into your hands the key to eternal life and happiness. This active, intelligent soul of yours, with its exquisite perception of moral beauty and loveliness,” and he glanced toward the child, “cannot be destined to inhabit a dog, a monkey, or a worm, in another life. God made it for higher purposes; and I hope and pray that I may yet meet you, all beautiful, and pure, and glorious, in a world beyond the reach of pain or death, and above all, beyond the reach of sin.”

Up to this time the boy had sat upon his mat like a statue of silence; his usually dancing eyes fixed steadfastly upon the speakers, and gradually dilating and acquiring a strange, mystic depth of expression, of which they seemed at first incapable. At these words, however, he sprang forward.

“Papa! papa! hear him! Let us both love the Lord Jesus Christ! My mother loved him; and in the golden country of the blest she waits for us.”

“I must go,” said the Sah-ya hoarsely, and attempting to rise.

“Let us pray!” said the missionary, kneeling down.

The child laid his two hands together, and placing them against his forehead, bowed his head to the mat; while the father yielded to the circumstances of the case so far as to re-seat himself. Gradually, as the fervent prayer proceeded, his head drooped a little; and it was not long before he placed his elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands. As soon as the prayer was ended, he rose, bowed in silence, took his child by the hand, and walked away.

Day after day went by, the Sah-ya, as he passed the zayat, always saluting its occupant respectfully, but evincing no disposition to cultivate his acquaintance farther. He was accompanied by the boy less often than formerly; but, from casual opportunities, the missionary remarked that a strange look of thoughtfulness had crept into the childish face, 598softening and beautifying, though scarcely saddening it. And when occasionally the little fellow paused for a moment, to ask for a book, or exchange a word of greeting, the gay familiarity of his manner seemed to have given place to a tender, trustful affection, somewhat tinctured with awe.

Meanwhile that terrible scourge of Eastern nations, the cholera, had made its appearance, and it came sweeping through the town with its usual devastating power. Fires were kindled before every house, and kept burning night and day; while immense processions continually thronged the streets with gongs, drums, and tom-toms, to frighten away the evil spirits, and so arrest the progress of the disease. The zayat was closed for lack of visitors; and the missionary and his assistants busied themselves in attending on the sick and dying.

It was midnight when the over-wearied foreigner was roused from his slumbers by the calls of the faithful Ko Shway-bay.

“Teacher, teacher, you are wanted!”

“Where?”

The man lowered his voice almost to a whisper; but, putting his hands to each side of his mouth, sent the volume of sound through a crevice in the boards. “At the Sah-ya’s.”

“Who?”

“I do not know, Tsayah. I only heard that the cholera was in the house, and the teacher was wanted, and so I hurried off as fast as possible.”

In a few minutes the missionary had joined his assistant, and they proceeded on their way together. As they drew near the house, the Burman paused in the shadow of a bamboo hedge.

“It is not good for either of us, that we go in together; I will wait you here, Tsayah.”

“No, you need rest; and I shall not want you—go!”go!”

The verandahverandah was thronged with relatives and dependents; and from an inner room came a wild, wailing sound, which told that death was already there. No one seemed to observe the entrance of the foreigner; and he followed the sound of woe till he stood by the corpse of a little child. Then he paused in deep emotion.

“He has gone up to the golden country, to bloom forever amid the royal lilies of Paradise,” murmured a voice close to his ear.

The missionary, a little startled, turned abruptly. A middle-aged woman, holding a palm-leaf fan to her mouth, was the only person near him.

“He worshipped the true God,” she continued, suffering the individuality of her voice to glide away and mingle the wail of the mourners, and 599occasionally slurring a word which she dared not pronounce with distinctness; “he worshipped the true God, and trusted in the Lord our Redeemer—the Lord Jesus Christ, he trusted in Him. He called and he was answered, he was weary, weary and in pain; and the Lord who loved him, He took him home to be a little golden lamb in His bosom forever.”

“How long, since, did he go?”

“About an hour, Tsayah.” Then joining in the wail again, “An hour amid the royal lilies; and his mother—his own beautiful mother—she of the starry eyes and silken hand——”

“Was he conscious?”

“Conscious and full of joy.”

“What did he talk of?”

“Only of the Lord Jesus Christ, whose face he seemed to see!”

“And his father?”

“His father—oh, my master! my noble master! he is going, too! Come and see. Tsayah!”

“Who sent for me?”

“Your handmaid, sir.”

“Not the Sah-ya?”

The woman shook her head. “The agony was on him—he could not have sent, if he would.”

“But how dared you?”

There was a look such as might have been worn by the martyrs of old upon the woman’s face as she expressly answered, “God was here!”

In the next apartment lay the fine figure of the Sah-ya, stretched upon a couch, evidently in the last stage of the fearful disease—his pain all gone.

“It grieves me to meet you thus, my friend,” remarked the visitor, by way of testing the dying man’s consciousness.

The Sah-ya made a gesture of impatience. Then his fast stiffening lips stirred, but they were powerless to convey a sound; there was a feeble movement, as though he would have pointed at something, but his half-raised finger wavered and sunk back again; and a look of dissatisfaction amounting to anxiety passed over his countenance. Finally renewing the effort, he succeeded in laying his two hands together, and with some difficulty lifted them to his forehead; and then quietly and calmly closed his eyes.

“Do you trust in Lord Gaudama in a moment like this?” inquired the missionary, uncertain for whom the act of worship was intended. There was a quick tremor in the shut lids, and the poor Sah-ya unclosed his eyes with an expression of mingled pain and disappointment; 600while the death-heavy hands slid from their position back upon the pillow.

“Lord Jesus, receive his spirit,”spirit,” exclaimed the missionary, solemnly.

A bright, joyous smile flitted across the face of the dying man, parting the lips, and even seeming to shed light upon the glazed eyes; a sigh-like breath fluttered his bosom for a moment; the finger which he had before striven to lift, pointed distinctly upward, then fell heavily across his breast; and the disembodied spirit stood in the presence of its Maker.

The thrilling death-wail commenced with the departure of the breath; for although several who had been most assiduous in their attentions, glided away when it was ascertained that he who would have awarded their fidelity was gone; there were yet many who were prevented, some by real affection, some by family pride, from so far yielding to their fears, as to withhold the honors due to the departed.

“You had better go now,” whispered the woman, “you can do no further good, and may receive harm.”

“And who are you that you have braved the danger to yourself of bringing me here?”

“Pass on, and I will tell you.”

They drew near the body of the child, which, by the rush to the other apartment, had been left, for a moment, alone.

“See!” said the woman, lifting the cloth reverently. A copy of the Gospel of Matthew lay on his bosom.

“Who placed it there?”

“He did, with his own dear little hand—Amai! amai-ai!” and the woman’s voice gave expression to one swell of agony, and then died away in a low wail, like that which proceeded from the adjoining room. Presently she resumed, “I was his mother’s nurse. She got this book of you, sir. We thought my master burned it, but he kept, and maybe studied it. Do you think that he became a true believer?”

“To whom did he shiko at the last moment, Mah-aa?”

“To the Lord Jesus Christ—I am sure of that. Do you think the Lord would receive him, sir?”

“Do you ever read about the thief who was crucified with the Saviour?”

“Oh, yes; I read it to Moung-Moung this very day. He was holding his mother’s book when the disease smote him; and he kept it in his hand, and went up, with it lying on his bosom. Yes, I remember.”

“The Lord Jesus Christ is just as merciful now as he was then.”

“And so they are all——oh, ’ken-payah! it is almost too much to believe!”

601“When did you first become acquainted with this religion, Mah-aa?”

“My mistress taught me, sir; and made me promise to teach her baby when he was old enough; and to go to you for more instruction. But I was alone, and afraid. I sometimes got as far as the big banyan tree on the corner, and crawled away again so trembling with terror, that I could scarcely stand upon my feet. At last I found out Ko Shway-bay, and he promised to keep my secret; and he gave me books, and explained their meaning, and taught me how to pray, and I have been getting courage ever since. I should not much mind now, if they did find me out and kill me. It would be very pleasant to go up to Paradise. I think I should even like to go to-night, if the Lord would please to take me.”

It was two or three weeks before the missionary resumed his customary place in the zayat by the wayside. His hearers were scattered widely; in the neighboring jungles, in far-off towns, and in that other place from whence “no traveller returns.”

Where was his last hopeful inquirer?

Dead.

Where the priest?

Dead.

Where the philosopher?

Fled away, none knew whither.

And the poor old water-bearer?

Dead—died like a dog in its kennel; and but that some pitying Christian had succeeded in discovering her at the last moment, without a human witness. But—and the missionary’s heart swelled with gratitude to God as he thought of—there were other witnesses, nobler, tenderer, dearer to that simple, lone old creature, than all the earthly friends that ever thronged a death-bed; and these had been her bright, rejoicing convoy to the Saviour’s presence.

Oh! how full of awe, how fearfully laden with the solemn interests of eternity, appeared this wondrous work of his! And how broad and clear seemed his sacred commission, as though at that moment newly traced by the finger of Jehovah!

FINIS

Transcriber’s Note

On p. 65, there is an unmatched opening double quotation mark. There does not seem to be a clear place to close it, and were it removed, the following words (“he himself heard him mutter...”) make better sense.

The final line on p. 244 seems to end a paragraph (‘...to open the gate.’). However, the first line on the following page begins in mid-sentence (‘...used to carry’). It is apparent that p. 244 should end with ‘I’, which we have adopted.

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.

33.17 [‘/“]having prepared myself Replaced.

65.30 [“]just before the drop fell Removed.

98.36 How do you know[?] that? Removed.

113.20 [n/m]ust be briefly mentioned Replaced.

134.13 mentioned Moung Thah[-]lah Inserted.

230.19 with a dozen Burmans[./,] Replaced.

227.3 who will do the work better.[’]” Inserted.

244.30 to open the gate. [I] used to carry Added.

256.34 He could not recover her.[”/’] Replaced.

287.8 a strip of country along the[ the ]sea Removed.

303.24 [‘]Virtues they have Removed.

314.14 In the “Threefold Cord,[”] Added.

324.37 with which he striv[ /e]s to comfort Restored.

328.19 spears, knives, etc[,/.] Replaced.

383.12 [‘]wages’ Added.

453.17 the translation of[,] the New Testament Removed.

513.7 over the whole earth[’/”] Replaced.

555.42 composed the passive limbs decent[ /l]y Restored.

595.22 become a sincere inquirer[,/.] Replaced.

598.29 I shall not want you—go![”] Added.

598.30 The ver[a]ndah was thronged Restored.

600.2 receive his spirit[’/”], Replaced.