Chapter V · LIFE IN RANGOON. 1813-1819.

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

“After draining the great plain of upper Burmah, it enters a narrow valley lying between the spurs of the Arracan and Pegu ranges, and extending below the city of Prome. Thus the mighty stream rolls on through 75the widening bay, until about ninety miles from the sea, it bifurcates; one branch flows to the westward and forms the Bassein River, while the main channel of the lower part of the Delta subdivides and finally enters the sea by ten mouths. It is navigable for river steamers for 840 miles from the sea, but it is during the rainy season (Monsoon) that it is seen in its full grandeur. The stream then rises forty feet above its summer level, and flooding the banks presents in some places, as far as the eye can reach, a boundless expanse of turbid waters, the main channel of which rushes along with a velocity of five miles an hour.”

The two natural outlets for the commerce of Western China are this great river, and the Yang-tse-kiang, which takes its rise in Thibet, and following an easterly course of nearly three thousand miles, empties itself into the Yellow Sea. Along this channel a vast tide of commerce has flowed from time immemorial, and depositing upon the river-banks its rich sediment of wealth and population, has occasioned the growth of Shanghai, Nanking, and other enormous cities. But the merchandise of Western and Central China would find a shorter and easier and cheaper path to the sea through the valley of the Irrawaddy, and would long ago have pursued that course, had it not been impeded and endangered by rude mountain tribes which the Governments of Burmah and of China have not as yet been vigorous enough to reduce to harmlessness. As civilization advances, a much larger part of the trade of Central Asia will be sure to find its way to the sea through the valley of the Irrawaddy. Christianity always enters the heart of a nation along the lines of trade; so that Rangoon, near the mouth of the Irrawaddy, where Mr. and Mrs. Judson landed, and Bhamo, situated at the head of navigation, 840 miles up the river, where the American Baptists have recently planted a mission, are two of the most important strategical points for the conquest of all Asia.^[20]

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

76

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

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

Mrs. Judson’s Journal.

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

“December 11. To-day, for the first time, I have visited the wife of the viceroy. I was introduced to her by a French lady, who has frequently visited her. When we first arrived at the Government house she was not up; consequently we had to wait some time. But the inferior wives of the viceroy diverted us much by their curiosity in minutely examining everything we had on, and by trying on our gloves, bonnets, etc. At last her highness made her appearance, dressed richly in the Burman fashion, with a long silver pipe at her mouth, smoking. At her appearance, all the other wives took their seats at a respectful distance, and sat in a crouching posture, without speaking. She received me very politely, took me by the hand, seated me upon a mat, and herself by me. She excused herself for not coming in sooner, saying she was unwell. One of the women brought her a bunch of flowers, of which she took several, and ornamented her cap. She was very inquisitive whether I had a husband and children; whether I was my husband’s first wife—meaning by this, whether I was the highest among them, supposing that my husband, like the Burmans, had many wives; and whether I intended tarrying long in the country. When the viceroy came in, I really trembled, for I never before beheld such a 77savage-looking creature. His long robe and enormous spear not a little increased my dread. He spoke to me, however, very condescendingly, and asked if I would drink some rum or wine. When I arose to go, her highness again took my hand, told me she was happy to see me; that I must come to see her every day, for I was like a sister to her. She led me to the door, and I made my salaam, and departed. My only object in visiting her was, that, if we should get into any difficulty with the Burmans, I could have access to her, when perhaps it would not be possible for Mr. Judson to get access to the viceroy. One can obtain almost any favor from her by making a small present. We intend to have as little to do with Government people as possible, as our usefulness will probably be among the common people. Mr. Judson lately visited the viceroy, when he scarcely deigned to look at him, as English men are no uncommon sight in this country; but an English female is quite a curiosity.”

Mr. Judson to the Rev. Mr. Emerson.,

“Rangoon, January 7, 1814.

“It is nearly a year since I wrote to America, my last being forwarded by brother Rice. I have had no opportunity of conveyance since that time, nor have I any at present. I intend to send this to England, hoping that on its arrival the war may have terminated, or that it may find a conveyance in a dispatch vessel. We have been here about six months; have been living in the mission-house, with brother F. Carey’s family, but expect within a few days to take a house within the walls of the town on account of the bands of robbers which infest all the country, and which have lately been very numerous and daring. Our situation is much more comfortable than we expected it would be in such a country. We enjoy good health, and though deprived of all congenial Christian society, we are very happy in each other, and think we frequently enjoy His presence whose smile can turn the darkest night to day, and whose favor is the fountain of all happiness. ‘Peace I leave with you—my peace I give unto you.’ There has yet been but very little effected in this country to any real missionary purpose. Brother Carey’s 78time is greatly occupied in Government matters. The emperor has given him a title, and requires him to reside in the capital. He is just now going to Bengal on his majesty’s business, and expects, after his return, to reside at Ava. Not a single Burman has yet been brought to a knowledge of the truth, or even to serious inquiry. In all the affairs of this Government, despotism and rapine are the order of the day. The present viceroy of this province is a savage man. Life and death depend on his nod. He is very large in stature, and when he stalks about with his long spear, everybody shrinks from before him. I called on him once, but he scarcely looked at me. Ann waited on her highness, and was much better received. This man is about to be recalled to Ava, and it is doubtful whether he will return. During the interim we expect all things will be in confusion, and this is one reason why we desire to get within the walls of the city.

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

From Mrs. Judson to the Rev. Samuel Newell.

“Rangoon, April 23, 1814.

“My dear Brother Newell:

“A few days since we received yours of December 18th, the only one we have ever received since you left us at Port Louis. It brought fresh to my mind a recollection of scenes formerly enjoyed in our dear native country. Well do I remember our first interesting conversations on missions and on the probable events which awaited us in India. Well do I remember the dear parental habitation where you were pleased to favor me with your confidence relative to a companion for life. And well do I remember the time when I 79first carried your message to the mother of our dear Harriet, when the excellent woman exclaimed with tears in her eyes, ‘I dare not, I can not speak against it.’ Those were happy days. Newell and Judson, Harriet and Nancy, then were united in the strictest friendship, then anticipated spending their lives together in sharing the trials and toils, the pleasures and enjoyments, of a missionary life. But, alas! behold us now! In the Isle of France, solitary and alone, lies all that was once visible of the lovely Harriet. A melancholy wanderer on the Isle of Ceylon is our brother Newell, and the savage, heathen empire of Burmah is destined to be the future residence of Judson and Nancy. But is this separation to be forever? Shall we four never again enjoy social, happy intercourse? No, my dear brother, our separation is of short duration. There is a rest—a peaceful, happy rest, where Jesus reigns, where we four soon shall meet to part no more. Forgive my gloomy feelings, or rather forgive my communicating them to you, whose memory, no doubt, is ever ready to furnish more than enough for your peace.

“As Mr. Judson will not have time to write you by this opportunity, I will endeavor to give you some idea of our situation here, and of our plans and prospects. We have found the country, as we expected, in a most deplorable state, full of darkness, idolatry, and cruelty—full of commotion and uncertainty. We daily feel that the existence and perpetuity of this mission, still in an infant state, depend in a peculiar manner on the interposing hand of Providence; and from this impression alone we are encouraged still to remain. As it respects our temporal privations, use has made them familiar, and easy to be borne; they are of short duration, and when brought in competition with the worth of immortal souls, sink into nothing. We have no society, no dear Christian friends, and with the exception of two or three sea captains, who now and then call on us, we never see a European face. But then, we are still happy in each other; still find that our own home is our best, our dearest friend. When we feel a disposition to sigh for the enjoyments of our native country, we turn our eyes on the miserable objects 80around. We behold some of them laboring hard for a scanty subsistence, oppressed by an avaricious Government, which is ever ready to seize what industry had hardly earned; we behold others sick and diseased, daily begging the few grains of rice which, when obtained, are scarcely sufficient to protract their wretched existence, and with no other habitation to screen them from the burning sun, or chilly rains, than what a small piece of cloth raised on four bamboos under a tree can afford. While we behold these scenes, we feel that we have all the comforts, and, in comparison, even the luxuries, of life. We feel that our temporal cup of blessings is full, and runneth over. But is our temporal lot so much superior to theirs? Oh, how infinitely superior our spiritual blessings! While they vainly imagine to purchase promotion in another state of existence by strictly worshipping their idols and building pagodas, our hopes of future happiness are fixed on the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world. When we have a realizing sense of these things, my dear brother, we forget our native country and former enjoyments, feel contented and happy with our lot, with but one wish remaining—that of being instrumental in leading these Burmans to partake of the same source of happiness with ourselves.

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

“Our progress in the language is slow, as it is peculiarly 81hard of acquisition. We can, however, read, write, and converse with tolerable ease, and frequently spend whole evenings very pleasantly in conversing with our Burman friends. We have been very fortunate in procuring good teachers. Mr. Judson’s teacher is a very learned man, was formerly a priest, and resided at court. He has a thorough knowledge of the grammatical construction of the language, likewise of the Pali, the learned language of the Burmans.”

It may be well to consider for a moment the task which the young missionary had set before him. What did they propose to do, this man of twenty-five and his young wife, standing amid the level rice fields on the coast of Lower Burmah, with their faces turned landward toward towns and cities swarming with idolaters, and hill-tops crowned with heathen temples and pagodas? Their purpose was to undermine an ancient religion, deeply fixed in the hearts and habits of four hundred millions of human beings. They did not propose to bring to bear influences by which Christianity was to be introduced as a State religion and reluctant knees be forced to bow to the Christ. This would have been indeed an audacious undertaking. But they sought to work out a more searching revolution, nothing less than a change of belief and of heart in each individual. The millions of Burmans were to be taken one by one—their affections subdued, and their characters transfigured by the religion of Christ. They felt sure that in the mass of people about them, there was here and there a man who had been so schooled by the providences of God, and so matured by the Divine Spirit, that if the story of the Cross could once be got to him, he would immediately accept it and say, “That is just what I want.” As the sod of moss, brought from the woods into the house, often contains within its bosom hidden germs, and after a season, in the warmth of the parlor, sends forth sweet, unexpected spring flowers, so out of the unattractive sod of heathenism, under the genial rays of the Holy Spirit, might emerge disciples of Christ, and these 82disciples, organized by baptism into churches, would, by the same process of reaching individual souls, little by little leaven the whole of the empire.

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

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

Again, he did not say to himself, “It is a hopeless task to attempt the conversion of the hoary heads. I will try to gather the little children together and establish schools, and thus purify the fountains of national life.” He had his 83schools, indeed, but they were quite subordinate to the work of preaching the Gospel to the adult mind. He reached the children through the parents, and not the parents through the children. He believed that the grown-up Burmans, rather than their children, should bear the brunt of persecution involved in embracing a new religion. He followed the method of the Acts of the Apostles. A preacher of the Gospel, he did not allow himself to shrivel into a mere school-teacher or a school-book maker.

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

“Rangoon, February 10, 1817.

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

“We have just begun to circulate these publications, and are praying that they may produce some inquiry among the natives. And here comes a man, this moment, to talk about religion. What shall I do? I will give him a tract, to keep him occupied a few moments while I finish this. ‘Here, my friend, sit down, and read something that will carry you to 84heaven if you believe and receive the glorious Saviour therein exhibited.’

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

It is a noteworthy fact that the attention of the first serious Burman inquirer was caught by two little writings that fell into his hands, a tract and a catechism. The British and Foreign Bible Society publish a statement, made upon the authority of Sir Bartle Frere, that he met “with an instance which was carefully investigated, in which all the inhabitants of a remote village in the Deccan had abjured idolatry and caste, removed from their temples the idols which had been worshipped there time out of mind, and agreed to profess a form of Christianity which they had deduced for themselves from the careful perusal of a single Gospel and a few tracts.” And the eminent African missionary, Moffat, related that when he was almost perishing for want of food, he was succored by an old negro woman 85whose spiritual life had been fed for years from a little copy of the Dutch New Testament. She drew it from her bosom and said: “This is the fountain whence I drink; this is the oil which makes my lamp to burn.”

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

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

86His preaching was concrete. He did not deal in vague abstractions. Truth assumed, in his mind, statuesque forms. His conversation abounded in images and illustrations; and in this respect he resembled the great Teacher, whom England’s poet laureate thus describes:

“For wisdom dealt with mortal powers,

Where truth in closest words shall fail,

When truth embodied in a tale

Shall enter in at lowly doors.”

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

“A native Christian woman told me that she was at one time about to engage in something which Dr. Judson considered not conducive to her spiritual good. He sent for her, and remonstrated; but she would not give up her darling project. ‘Look here!’ said he, eagerly snatching a ruler from the table, and tracing not a very straight line on the floor, ‘here is where you have been walking. You have made a crooked track, to be sure—out of the path half of the time; but then you have kept near it, and not taken to new roads, and you have—not so much as you might have done, mind, but still to a certain extent—grown in grace; and now, with all this growth upon your heart and head, in the maturity of your years, with ripened understanding and an every-day deepening sense of the goodness of God, here,’ bringing down the ruler with emphasis to indicate a certain position, ‘here you stand. You know where this path leads. You know what is before you—some struggles, some sorrows, and finally eternal life and a crown of glory. But to the left branches off another very pleasant road, and along the air floats, rather temptingly, a pretty bubble. You do not mean to leave the path you have walked in fifteen years—fifteen long years—altogether; you only want to step aside and catch the bubble, and think you will come back again; but you never will. Woman, think! Dare you deliberately leave this strait and narrow path, drawn by the 87Saviour’s finger, and go away for one moment into that of your enemy? Will you? will you? WILL YOU?’

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

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

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

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

“True, he preached in Burman; but though I did not know the meaning of a single sentence he uttered, still my attention was never more 88closely riveted in any sermon I have ever heard. Were I to fix upon any characteristic of the preacher which, perhaps more than any other, rendered his discourse interesting and impressive, I should say it was earnestness of manner. It was impossible for any one to escape the conviction that his whole soul was in the work. Every tone, every look, every gesture spoke out in most emphatic language to tell us that the man was in earnest to make us believe the truths that he uttered. But what contributed not a little to the interest of the occasion was the appearance of the assembly. Every hearer sat motionless, every eye was immovably fixed upon the preacher, and every countenance seemed to change with every varied expression of sentiment; now beaming forth joy, as though some joyous news from the other world had just reached them, which before had never gladdened their hearts—now depicting a feeling of anxiety as though their mortal all, or that of their friends, were at stake; and next, of deep solemnity, as though standing before their final judge!”

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

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

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

To the Rev. Dr. Bolles.

“Rangoon, January 16, 1816.

“Yours of March, 1815, I lately received, and read with real satisfaction. Neither brother Rice nor any of the others you mention have yet been heard of in these parts. May they not be far distant. Whenever they shall arrive, I hope to be 89of some real service to them in their preparatory studies, and to be able to give them, in a short time, information on many points which it has cost me months to acquire. I just now begin to see my way forward in this language, and hope that two or three years more will make it somewhat familiar; but I have met with difficulties that I had no idea of before I entered on the work. For a European or American to acquire a living Oriental language, root and branch, and make it his own, is quite a different thing from his acquiring a cognate language of the West, or any of the dead languages, as they are studied in the schools. One circumstance may serve to illustrate this. I once had occasion to devote about two months to the study of the French. I have now been above two years engaged on the Burman; but if I were to choose between a Burman and French book to be examined in, without previous study, I should, without the least hesitation, choose the French. When we take up a Western language, the similarity of the characters, in very many terms, in many modes of expression, and in the general structure of sentences, its being in fair print (a circumstance we hardly think of), and the assistance of grammars, dictionaries, and instructors, render the work comparatively easy. But when we take up a language spoken by a people on the other side of the earth, whose very thoughts run in channels diverse from ours, and whose modes of expression are consequently all new and uncouth; when we find the letters and words all totally destitute of the least resemblance to any language we had ever met with, and these words not fairly divided and distinguished, as in Western writing, by breaks, and points, and capitals, but run together in one continuous line, a sentence or paragraph seeming to the eye but one long word; when, instead of clear characters on paper, we find only obscure scratches on dried palm leaves strung together and called a book; when we have no dictionary, and no interpreter to explain a single word, and must get something of the language before we can avail ourselves of the assistance of a native teacher,—

‘Hoc opus, hic labor est.’

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

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

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

To the Rev. Dr. Staughton.

“I am sometimes a little dispirited, when I reflect that, for

two or three years past, I have been drilling at A, B, C, and

grammar. But I consider again that the gift of tongues is

not granted in these times; that some one must acquire this

91language by dint of application; must translate the Scriptures,

and must preach the Gospel to the people in their own

tongue, or how can they be saved? My views of the missionary

object are, indeed, different from what they were,

when I was first set on fire by Buchanan’s ‘Star in the East,’

six years ago. But it does not always happen that a closer

acquaintance with an object diminishes our attachment and

preference. We sometimes discover beauties, as well as deformities,

which were overlooked on a superficial view; when

some attractions lose their force, others more permanent are

exerted; and when the glitter in which novelty invested the

object has passed away, more substantial excellencies have

room to disclose their influence; and so it has been with me,

I hope, in regard to the work of missions.”

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

“Let our readers dwell for a moment upon the difficulty, in their own powerful Saxon tongue, of discoursing upon free will, predestination, and many other such subjects, and then endeavor to realize to themselves how infinitely more difficult the attempt must be in a language of monosyllabic formation and structure; its very polysyllables being the roughest possible mosaic of monosyllables, and the genius and construction of the tongue such, that even the simple language of the Gospels—the sentences of which are in general so remarkably plain and free from complication—is beyond its flexibility, the simplest sentences in the Gospels of Mark or John having to be chopped up and decomposed, in order to adapt them to this peculiar language. Let our readers imagine, if they can, the wonderful command requisite of so awkward an instrument, in order to be enabled to answer an Oo Yan—‘How are sin and eternal misery reconcilable with the character of an infinitely holy, wise, and powerful God?’ or to meet the subtleties of a Moung Shwa-gnong, arguing on his fundamental doctrine, that divine wisdom, not concentrated in any existing spirit, or embodied in any form, but diffused throughout the universe, and partaken in different degrees by various intelligences, and in a very high degree by the Buddhs, is the true and only God. Yet so completely was Judson master of this very difficult tongue, and of the modes of thought of its people, that he could, by his replies and arguments, impart to an Oo Yan intense satisfaction, and a joy which exhibited 92itself by the ebullitions natural to a susceptible temperament; and, in the end, could force a subtle Moung Shwa-gnong to yield to the skill of a foreign disputant.”

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

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

To the Rev. Luther Rice.

“Rangoon, August 3, 1816.

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

“If any ask what success I meet with among the natives, tell them to look at Otaheite, where the missionaries labored nearly twenty years, and, not meeting with the slightest success, began to be neglected by all the Christian world, and the very name of Otaheite began to be a shame to the cause of missions; and now the blessing begins to come. Tell them to look at Bengal also, where Dr. Thomas had been 93laboring seventeen years (that is, from 1783 to 1800) before the first convert, Krishna, was baptized. When a few converts are once made, things move on; but it requires a much longer time than I have been here to make a first impression on a heathen people. If they ask again, What prospect of ultimate success is there? tell them, As much as that there is an almighty and faithful God, who will perform His promises, and no more. If this does not satisfy them, beg them to let me stay and try it, and to let you come, and to give us our bread; or, if they are unwilling to risk their bread on such a forlorn hope as has nothing but the Word of God to sustain it, beg of them, at least, not to prevent others from giving us bread; and, if we live some twenty or thirty years, they may hear from us again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There is not an individual in the country that I can pray with, and not a single soul with whom I can have the least religious communion. I keep myself as busy as possible all 95day long, from sunrise till late in the evening, in reading Burman, and conversing with the natives. I have been here a year and a half, and so extremely difficult is the language—perhaps the most difficult to a foreigner of any on the face of the earth next to the Chinese—that I find myself very inadequate to communicate divine truth intelligibly. I have, in some instances, been so happy as to secure the attention, and in some degree to interest the feelings, of those who heard me; but I am not acquainted with a single instance in which any permanent impression has been produced. No Burman has, I believe, ever felt the grace of God; and what can a solitary, feeble individual or two expect to be the means of effecting in such a land as this, amid the triumphs of Satan, the darkness of death? The Lord is all-powerful, wise, and good; and this consideration alone always affords me unfailing consolation and support.”

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

“I embarked for Madras to procure medical assistance, and hoping a change of air would conduce to the restoration of my health. I was obliged to leave Mr. Judson here alone, without a single associate to animate him in his arduous work. We did not think it his duty for him to leave the mission if I could possibly go alone. But though I was separated from him, and felt for the first time in my life that I was entirely alone in this wide world, yet I could not but trace the kind dealings of God in inclining every one with whom I had any concern to favor and assist me in my way. The viceroy gave me an order to take a woman with me, free from expense, a thing which is generally attended with great difficulty, owing to the Burman law which forbids any female to leave the country. We went to him ourselves with a small present, which is customary when a favor is asked. On his seeing it, he inquired if we had any business; and on Mr. Judson’s presenting the petition, he immediately commanded his writer to give us an official order, without causing us any 96expense whatever. The captain with whom I went refused any pay for my passage, though he provided every necessary for one in ill health. I stayed at Madras six weeks, and resided at Mr. Loveless’ house, where I received every attention. When about to leave Madras, I sent the physician under whose care I had been, seventy rupees, which he immediately returned, saying he was happy if he had been serviceable to me. After an absence of three months I safely arrived at Rangoon, where I found Mr. Judson well, and laboring hard, though entirely alone. My health continued to mend, and on the 11th of September I was made the happy mother of a little son. I had no physician or assistant whatever excepting Mr. Judson. Since the birth of our little son my health has been much better than for two years before. I feel now almost in a new state of existence. Our hands are full, and though our prospects in regard to the immediate conversion of the Burmans are dark, yet our trust in God is strong, and our hopes animating.”

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

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

“Our little comfort, our dear little Roger, has become insensible to our parental attentions and fond caresses; the light of his mild blue eyes is quenched, his sweet face has become cold to our lips, and his little mind, which, to a parent’s discernment at least, discovered peculiar sensibility and peculiar sweetness of disposition, has deserted its infantile tenement and fled—oh, where? Into what strange scenes is it introduced? Who supports and guides its trembling steps across the dark valley? There a parent’s aid could not be extended. But we hope it had a more affectionate and abler guide. We hope that Jesus has repaired the ruins of 97the fall in regard to all little children. And who but thinks their departed children sweet and lovely beyond compare? Perhaps I am a novice in affliction. Had I lost a wife, I might not thus lament for a little child eight months old. Yet nothing but such a scene of bereavement and anguish as we have passed through can teach us to pity others in like circumstances. Nothing but experience can teach us what feelings agonize the soul of a parent when he puts his face to that of his dear, his only child, to ascertain whether there may not be one breath more; and when satisfied of the truth, when hope expires with life, he tries to raise the bursting aspiration: O Lord, receive the spirit!

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

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

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

“Rangoon, May 10, 1816.

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

“Since worship I have stolen away to a much-loved spot, 98where I love to sit and pay the tribute of affection to my lost darling child. It is a little enclosure of mango-trees, in the centre of which is erected a small bamboo-house on a rising spot of ground, which looks down on the new-made grave of an infant boy. Here I now sit; and though all nature around wears a most romantic, delightful appearance, yet my heart is sad, and my tears frequently stop my pen. You, my dear Mrs. Lovett, who are a mother, may guess my feelings; but if you have never lost a first-born, an only son, you can not know my pain. Had you even buried your little boy, you are in a Christian country, surrounded by friends and relatives who could soothe your anguish and direct your attention to other objects. But behold us solitary and alone, with this one single source of recreation! Yet even this is denied us; this must be removed, to show us that we need no other source of enjoyment but God himself! Do not think, though I thus write, that I repine at the dealings of Providence, or would wish them to be otherwise than they are. No; ‘though He slay me, I will trust in Him,’ is the language I would adopt. Though I say with the prophet, ‘Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow,’ yet I would also say with him, ‘It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.’”

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

“September 30, 1815. Had the following conversation with my teacher, as nearly as I can recollect it. This man has been with me about three months, and is the most sensible, learned, and candid man that I have ever found among the Burmans. He is forty-seven years of age, and his name is Oo Oungmen. I began by saying, Mr. J—— is dead. Oo. I have heard so. J. His soul is lost, I think. Oo. Why so? J. He was not a disciple of Christ. Oo. How do you knowknow 99that? You could not see his soul. J. How do you know whether the root of that mango-tree is good? You can not see it; but you can judge by the fruit on its branches. Thus I know that Mr. J. was not a disciple of Christ, because his words and actions were not such as indicate a disciple. Oo. And so all who are not disciples of Christ are lost? J. Yes, all, whether Burmans or foreigners. Oo. This is hard. J. Yes, it is hard indeed; otherwise I should not have come all this way, and left parents and all, to tell you of Christ. He seemed to feel the force of this, and after stopping a little he said, How is it that the disciples of Christ are so fortunate above all men? J. Are not all men sinners, and deserving of punishment in a future state? Oo. Yes, all must suffer in some future state for the sins they commit. The punishment follows the crime as surely as the wheel of the cart follows the footsteps of the ox. J. Now, according to the Burman system, there is no escape. According to the Christian system, there is. Jesus Christ has died in the place of sinners—has borne their sins; and now those who believe on Him, and become His disciples, are released from the punishment they deserve. At death, they are received into heaven, and are happy forever. Oo. That I will never believe. My mind is very stiff on this one point, namely, that all existence involves in itself principles of misery and destruction. The whole universe is only destruction and reproduction. It therefore becomes a wise man to raise his desires above all things that exist, and aspire to nigban, the state where there is no existence. J. Teacher, there are two evil futurities, and one good. A miserable future existence is evil, and annihilation, or nigban, is an evil, a fearful evil. A happy future existence is alone good. Oo. I admit that is best, if it could be perpetual; but it can not be. Whatever is, is liable to change, and misery, and destruction. Nigban is the only permanent good, and that good has been attained by Gaudama, the last deity. J. If there be no eternal being, you can not account for anything. Whence this world, and all that we see? Oo. Fate. J. Fate! The cause must always be equal to the effect. See, I raise this table. See also that ant under it 100Suppose I were invisible, would a wise man say the ant raised it? Now, fate is not even an ant. Fate is a word; that is all. It is not an agent; not a thing. What is fate? Oo. The fate of creatures is the influence which their good or bad deeds have on their future existence. J. If influence be exerted, there must be an exerter. If there be a determination, there must be a determiner. Oo. No, there is no determiner. There can not be an eternal being. J. Consider this point. It is a main point of true wisdom. Whenever there is an execution of a purpose, there must be an agent. Oo. (After a little thought.) I must say that my mind is very decided and hard, and unless you tell me something more to the purpose, I shall never believe. J. Well, teacher, I wish you to believe, not for my profit, but for yours. I daily pray the true God to give you light that you may believe. Whether you will ever believe in this world, I do not know; but when you die, I know you will believe what I now say. You will then appear before the God that you now deny. Oo. I don’t know that. J. I have heard that one Burman, many years ago, embraced the Portuguese religion, and that he was your relation. Oo. He was a brother of my grandfather. J. At Ava, or here? Oo. At Ava he became a Portuguese; afterwards went to a ship country with a ship-priest, and returned to Ava. J. I have heard he was put to death for his religion. Oo. No, he was imprisoned and tortured by order of the emperor. At last he escaped from their hands, fled to Rangoon, and afterwards to Bengal, where they say he died. J. Did any of his family join him? Oo. None; all forsook him; and he wandered about, despised and rejected by all. J. Do you think that he was a decided Christian, and had got a new mind? Oo. I think so; for when he was tortured hard, he held out. J. Did he ever talk with you about religion? Oo. Yes. J. Why did you not listen to him? Oo. I did not listen. J. Did you ever know any other Burman that changed his own for a foreign religion? Oo. I have heard that there is one now in Rangoon, who became a Portuguese; but he keeps himself concealed, and I have never seen him.”

101After almost three years of the closest application to study, Mr. Judson was taken ill. He wrote to Dr. Baldwin:

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

He improved even the hours of his illness by collecting what knowledge he had acquired of the language and “putting it together in the shape of a grammar that it might not be wholly lost to others.” Fearing that his own life might soon come to a close, he determined to blaze the trees through this hitherto untrodden wilderness of the Burmese language, by preparing a grammar. On July 13, 1816, exactly three years to a day after his arrival, he completed a work with the modest title, “Grammatical Notices of the Burman Language.” It was printed twenty years afterward; and although it was the result of a study of only 102three years, of one of the most difficult Oriental languages, and was written to relieve the tedium of a sick-bed, yet its merits were such as to command the following notice in the Calcutta Review:

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

Partially recovering from his illness, Mr. Judson completed, on July 30, 1816, his first tract, entitled “A View of the Christian Religion, in three parts, Historic, Didactic, and Preceptive.”^[21]

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

Mr. Judson wrote again and again appealing for help.

“We know not the designs of God in regard to this country; but I can not but have raised expectations. It is true we may have to labor and wait many years before the blessing comes. But we see what God is doing in other heathen lands, after trying the faith and sincerity of His servants 103some fifteen or twenty years. Look at Otaheite, Bengal, Africa. And is Burmah to remain a solitary instance of the inefficacy of prayer, of the forgetfulness of a merciful and faithful God? Is it nothing that an attempt is begun to be made; that, in one instance, the language is considerably acquired; that a tract is ready for publication, which is intelligible and perspicuous, and will give the Burmans their first ideas of a Saviour and the way of salvation; that a press and types have now arrived, and a printer is on the way; that a grammar is finished, to facilitate the studies of others, and a dictionary of the language is in a very forward state; and that the way is now prepared, as soon as health permits, to proceed slowly in the translation of the New Testament? Is it nothing that, just at this time, the monarch of the country has taken a violent hate to the priests of his own religion, and is endeavoring, with all his power, to extirpate the whole order, at the same time professing to be an inquirer after the true religion? Is all this to be set down a mere cipher? It is true that we may desire much more. But let us use what we have, and God will give us more. However, men and money must be forthcoming. Work can not be done without men, and men can not work without bread; nor can we expect the ravens to feed them in ordinary cases. I do not say several hundred missionaries are needed here. This, though true, would be idle talk. My request I think modest. Five men, allowing two or three to each of the stations, is the smallest number that will possibly answer.

. . . . . . . . . . .

“Permit me to close with a word in behalf of Eastern missions. Great Britain and the United States appear to be the only countries which can at present take a very active part in missionary concerns. The British are fully occupied with India, Africa, and the South Sea Islands. East of the British possessions in India are Burmah, Siam, several other Indo-Chinese nations, the great empire of China, Japan, thence north indefinitely, and southward the numerous Malayan Isles. With all these countries the British are no more connected than the Americans. The British are under no greater 104obligations to evangelize them than the Americans. They are no nearer the English, in point of transportation, than the Americans. And furthermore, throughout all these countries the British are suspected and feared; but not the Americans.

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

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

“Rangoon, November 14, 1816.

“In encouraging other young men to come out as missionaries, do use the greatest caution. One wrong-headed, conscientiously-obstinate fellow would ruin us. Humble, quiet, persevering men; men of sound, sterling talents (though, perhaps, not brilliant), of decent accomplishments, and some natural aptitude to acquire a language; men of an amiable, yielding temper, willing to take the lowest place, to be the least of all and the servants of all; men who enjoy much closet religion, who live near to God, and are willing to suffer all things for Christ’s sake, without being proud of it, these 105are the men, etc. But O, how unlike to this description is the writer of it.”...

Again he wrote:

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

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

“Rangoon, November 7, 1816.

“It is with peculiar satisfaction that we are, at length, able to address a letter to the Board, in our joint capacity. We had a joyful meeting in this place the 15th ult. Mr. Hough has settled in one part of the mission-house; and we are now united, both as a church of Christ and as a mission society. Our regulations on the latter point we here submit 106to the Board. It will be evident, at first sight, that these regulations have a prospective view, and are framed somewhat differently from what they would have been had we not expected that our society would soon be enlarged. But we hope that the time is not far distant when they will receive the signature of brother Rice also. Indeed, we hope for more than this; we hope that one or two others will be found to accompany Mr. Rice.

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

“It is with great pleasure that we announce the valuable present of a press and Burman types, made to us by the Serampore brethren. We are now closing in a room for a temporary printing-office, and hope very soon to issue a Gospel tract, which has been in readiness some time, and which is intended to give the heathen around us some idea of the way of salvation through the Lord Jesus. But we can not move one step in the way of printing without money. Though favored with the press, in the first instance, gratis, we have 107already expended in paper, freight, and sundries, about four hundred rupees. We therefore beg an immediate appropriation, not only to liquidate the expenses already incurred, but to enable us to proceed in this all-important part of our work. The accounts of the mission press we propose to keep distinct; and they shall be submitted together with the accounts of the mission.

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

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

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

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

108“2. We agree to be kindly-affectioned one toward another with brotherly love, in honor preferring one another; feeling that we have one Master, even Christ, and that all we are brethren.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A. Judson, Jr.

“George H. Hough.”

109Upon Mr. Hough’s arrival he immediately put the printing-press into operation. One thousand copies of the tract above mentioned and three thousand copies of a catechism which had just been completed by Mrs. Judson, were struck off and put into circulation. This strange new religion could not fail of at least catching the attention of the inquisitive Burmans. As the fishermen attach many hooks to a long line stretched across a river, hoping that at least a few of the many fishes swimming past may be taken, so our missionaries, with much care and toil, adjusted their trawl of tracts in the midst of the dense Burmese population, and anxiously, prayerfully awaited the result.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I asked him if he had become a disciple of Jesus Christ. He replied, ‘I have not yet, but I am thinking and reading in order to become one. I can not yet destroy my old mind; for when I see a handsome patso (a cloth the Burman men wear) or a handsome gownbown (the handkerchief worn on the head), I still desire them. Tell the great teacher, when he returns, that I wish to see him, though I am not a disciple of Christ.’ He requested the remaining part of Matthew’s gospel, also catechisms and tracts for his followers. I gave all of his attendants tracts; on which he said to them, ‘Take and read them attentively, and when you have embraced the 112doctrines they contain, come here, and converse with the teacher.’”

As no further mention is made of this first inquirer who caused such a leap of hope in Mr. Judson’s heart, we are left in the dark as to his subsequent life, as in the case of the young man who asked our blessed Lord what good thing he should do that he might have eternal life, and having heard the reply, went away sorrowing. Did this eager inquirer for “more of this sort of writing” learn to cherish a secret faith in the Christ, so earnestly commended to him by the pale-faced stranger? or, rejecting the Saviour, did he make what Dante calls “the great refusal”?^[22]

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

Burmah is flanked on the western side by the mountains of Arracan;^[23] between these and the Bay of Bengal lies the flat coast district of Chittagong. It had been ceded to the English. The inhabitants of this district spoke Burmese. A few years before, the English Baptists had begun a mission in Chittagong. Several converts had been baptized, 113when the mission was abandoned. Mr. Judson conceived the plan of visiting Chittagong, in order to gather together the scattered converts, instruct them anew, and perhaps bring one or two of them to help him in Rangoon. This would furnish him employment during the needed vacation. Besides, the rare opportunity was afforded of going and returning in the same ship; so that he would have to be absent for only three months. How painfully this pet project of his was frustrated, and how his three months were stretched out into almost two-thirds of a precious year, may be learned from the following letters to the Corresponding Secretary:

“Madras, May 28, 1818.

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

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

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

“Previous to leaving the coast, we put into Cheduba, a place under Burman government, for a supply of provisions. I was unable to go ashore, but took the opportunity of sending a tract by the boat. It happened to be conveyed directly to the governor, and he ordered it read in his presence. Soon after, when our captain had an audience, the governor 114inquired after the writer of the tract, who he was, and how long he had been in the country. The captain evaded some questions, for fear of detention, I suppose, and merely stated that the writer was a foreigner, who had resided in Rangoon about four years. ‘No,’ replied the governor, ‘that is not to be credited. You can not make me believe that a foreigner, in so short a time, has learned to write the language so well. It must have been written by some other person.’ The captain related this to me on his return. I felt particularly gratified by this testimony to the perspicuity of the style, and thought it not unworthy of mentioning, because it could not be suspected, as others which had been made to me personally, of having been a mere compliment.

“The ship’s destination was changed on the 26th of January. We retraced our course for a few days, and then stood to the westward. It was with the most bitter feelings that I witnessed the entire failure of my undertaking, and saw the summits of the mountains of Arracan, the last indexes of my country, sinking in the horizon, and the ship stretching away to a distant part of India, which I had no wish to visit, and where I had no object to obtain. It was, however, some mitigation of my disappointment, that I should, in all probability, be able to return to Rangoon, and resume my missionary business much earlier than if I had visited Chittagong. But even the consolation of this hope was not long allowed me. We had, indeed, a quick passage across the bay; but on drawing near the Coromandel coast the wind and current combined to prevent our further progress, and at the expiration of another month, having for a long time subsisted on nothing scarcely but rice and water, and being now reduced to very short allowance, we concluded to make sail for Masulipatam, a port north of Madras, which we doubted not we should be able to reach in a very few days. In this, again, we were disappointed, and through the unmanageableness of the ship, or the mismanagement of the captain, were detained at sea nearly another month. During this period we were sometimes in great distress, deeming ourselves very fortunate when able to get a bag of rice, or a few 115buckets of water, from any native vessel which happened to pass. Once we sent the long-boat to the shore, and obtained a considerable supply of water, which was a great relief. But of rice we could obtain no sufficient supply, and all other articles of provision were quite out of the question.

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

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

“Here I have remained ever since, under very trying circumstances. Have scarcely heard from Rangoon since I left, or been able to transmit any intelligence thither by a conveyance to be depended on. The weakness of my eyes prevents my application to study, or attempt at any exertion. I am making no progress in missionary work; I am distressed by the appalling recollection of the various business which was pressing on me at Rangoon, and made me very reluctant to 116leave home for the shortest time. Now, I have been detained twice as long as I anticipated, and have, withal, wholly failed in my undertaking. Where, my rebellious heart is ready to cry, where is the wisdom of all this? But it is wise, though blindness can not apprehend. It is best, though unbelief is disposed to murmur. Be still, my soul, and know that He is God.”

“Rangoon, October 9, 1818.

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

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

117

“They had sailed for Chittagong, a passage which should have been made in ten or twelve days, at farthest. He had, therefore, prepared himself for only a few weeks’ absence from home. When the vessel put in at Cheduba, the nervous affection of his head and eyes, occasioned at first by low diet, had so much increased by exhaustion and lack of food, that he was unable to go on shore. When they approached the Coromandel coast, and again encountered contrary winds, they were reduced to almost the last extremity, and the constitution of Mr. Judson sank under these accumulated hardships. The mouldy, broken rice, which they picked up from native vessels, and this in small quantities, with a limited supply of water, was their sole sustenance for three or four weeks. He was accustomed to look back on his sufferings at this time with a feeling of horror scarcely equalled by his reminiscences of Ava. Here he was alone, in a state of passive, monotonous suffering, with no one to share his sympathies, and nothing to arouse his energies. His scanty wardrobe, prepared for a trip of ten or twelve days, had been long since exhausted, and what with starvation, filth, pain, and discouragement, he became unable to leave his berth. At last he was attacked by a slow fever, and turning in disgust from his little mess of dirty rice, he begged continually for water! water! water! without ever obtaining enough to quench, even for a moment, his devouring thirst. At length the little vessel came to anchor in the mud of Masulipatam, some two or three miles from the low, uninviting beach, and the captain came to inquire if he would be taken on shore. The fact that they were near land seemed to him an incredible thing, a kind of dreamy illusion too fanciful to interest him. After some urging, however, he became sufficiently roused to pencil a note, which he addressed to ‘any English resident of Masulipatam,’ begging only for a place on shore to die. After a little while, one of the men came below, to tell him that a boat was approaching from the shore. He now succeeded in crawling to the window of his cabin, from which he plainly distinguished, in the rapidly moving boat, both the red coat of the military and the white jacket of the 118civilian. In the first thrill of joyful surprise, the sudden awakening of hope and pleasure, he threw himself on his knees and wept. Before his new friends were fairly on board, he had succeeded in gaining some little self-control; but he added, his voice faltering and his eyes filling with tears as he related the incident to Mrs. Judson, ‘The white face of an Englishman never looked to me so beautiful, so like my conception of what angel faces are, as when these strangers entered my cabin.’ They were very much shocked at his visible wretchedness: he was haggard, unshaven, dirty, and so weak that he could with difficulty support his own weight. Their earnest cordiality was peculiarly grateful to him. One of the officers took him to his own house, supplied him from his own wardrobe, procured a nurse, whom, however, he had occasion to employ but a short time, and displayed throughout a generous hospitality which Dr. Judson never forgot.”