Tavoy, March 7, 1831."My beloved Parents,"With a heart glowing with joy, and at the same time rent with anguish unutterable, I take my pen to address you. You, too, will rejoice when you hear what God has wrought through the instrumentality of your beloved son. Yes, you will bless God that you were enabled to devote him to this blessed service among the heathen, when I tell you that within the last two months, fifty-seven have been baptized, all Karens, excepting one, a little boy of the school and son of the native governor. Twenty-three were baptized in this city by Moung Ing, and thirty-four in their native wilderness by Mr. Mason."Mr. Mason arrived Jan. 23d, and on the 31st, he, with Mr. Boardman, myself and George, set out on a long-promised tour among the Karens. Mr. Boardman was very feeble, but we hoped the change of air and scenery would be beneficial. A company of Karenshad come to convey us out, Mr. Boardman on his bed and me in a chair. We reached the place on the third day, and found they had erected a bamboo chapel on a beautiful stream at the base of a range of mountains. The place was central, and nearly one hundred persons had assembled, more than half of them applicants for baptism. Oh it was a sight calculated to call forth the liveliest joy of which human nature is susceptible, and made me, for a moment, forget my bitter griefs—a sight far surpassing all I had ever anticipated, even in my most sanguine hours. The Karens cooked, ate and slept on the around, by the river-side, with no other shelter than the trees of the forest. Three years ago they were sunk in the lowest depths of ignorance and superstition. Now the glad tidings of mercy had reached them, and they were willing to live in the open air, away from their homes, for the sake of enjoying the privileges of the Gospel."My dear husband had borne the journey better than we had feared, though he suffered from exhaustion and pain in his side, which, however, was much relieved by a little attention. His spirits were unusually good, and we fondly hoped that a few days' residence in that delightful, airy spot, surrounded by his loved Karens, would recruit and invigorate his weakened frame. But I soon perceived he was failing, and tenderly urged his return to town, where he couldenjoy the quiet of home, and the benefit of medical advice. But he repelled the thought at once, saying he confidently expected improvement from the change, and that the disappointment would be worse for him than staying. 'And even,' added he, 'should my poor, unprofitable life be somewhat shortened by staying, ought I, on that account merely, to leave this interesting field? Should I not rather stay and assist in gathering in these dear scattered lambs of the fold? You know, Sarah, that coming on a foreign mission involves the probability of a shorter life, than staying in one's native country. And yet obedience to our Lord, and compassion for the perishing heathen, induced us to make this sacrifice. And have we ever repented that we came? No; I trust we can both say that we bless God for bringing us to Burmah, for directing our footsteps to Tavoy, and even for leading us hither. You already know, my love,' he continued, with a look of tenderness never to be forgotten, 'that I cannot live long, I must sink under this disease; and should we go home now, the all-important business which brought us out, must be given up, and I might linger out a few days of suffering, stung with the reflection, that I had preferred a few idle days, to my Master's service. Do not, therefore, ask me to go, till these poor Karens have been baptized.' I saw he was right, but my feelings revolted. Nothing seemed sovaluable as his life, and I felt that I could make any sacrifice to prolong it, though it were but for one hour. Still a desire to gratify him, if no higher motive made me silent, though my heart ached to see him so ill in such a wretched place, deprived of many of the comforts of life, to say nothing of the indulgences desirable in sickness."The chapel was large, but open on all sides, excepting a small place built up for Mr. Mason, and a room about five feet wide and ten feet long, for the accommodation of Mr. Boardman and myself with our little boy. The roof was so low, that I could not stand upright; and it was but poorly enclosed, so that he was exposed to the burning rays of the sun by day, and to the cold winds and damp fog by night. But his mind was happy, and he would often say, 'If I live to see this one ingathering, I may well exclaim, with happy Simeon, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. How many ministers have wished they might die in their pulpits; and would not dying in a spot like this, be even more blessed than dying in a pulpit at home? I feel that it would.'"Nor was it merely the pleasing state of things around him that filled his mind with comfort. He would sometimes dwell on the infinite compassion ofGod, and his own unworthiness, till his strength was quite exhausted; and though he told Mr. Mason that he had not the rapture which he had sometimes enjoyed, yet his mind was calm and peaceful; and it was plainly perceptible, that earthly passions had died way, and that he was enjoying sweet foretastes of that rest into which he was so soon to enter. He would often say to me, 'My meditations are very sweet, though my mind seems as much weakened as my body. I have not had that liveliness of feeling, which I have sometimes enjoyed, owing to my great weakness, but I shall soon be released from shackles, and be where I can praise God continually, without weariness. My thoughts delight to dwell on these words,There is no night there.'"I felt that the time of separation was fast approaching, and said to him, 'My dear, I have one request to make; it is, that you would pray much for George, during your few remaining days. I shall soon be left alone, almost the only one on earth to pray for him, and I have great confidence in your dying prayers.' He looked earnestly at the little boy, and said, 'I will try to pray for him; but I trust very many prayers will ascend for the dear child from our friends at home, who will be induced to supplicate the more earnestly for him, when they hear that he is left fatherless in a heathen land.'"On Wednesday, while looking in the glass, he seemed at once to see symptoms of his approaching dissolution, and said, without emotion, 'I have altered greatly—I am sinking into the grave very fast—just on the verge.' Mr. Mason said to him, 'Is there nothing we can do for you? Had we not better call the physician? Or shall we try to remove you into town immediately?' After a few moments' deliberation, it was concluded to defer the baptism of the male applicants, and set out for home early the next morning. Nearly all the female candidates had been examined, and as it is difficult for them to come to town, it was thought best that Mr. Mason should baptize them in the evening. We knelt, and Mr. Mason having prayed for a blessing on the decision, we sat down to breakfast with sorrowful hearts."While we were at the table, my beloved husband said, 'I shall soon be thrown away for this world; but I hope the Lord Jesus will take me up. That merciful Being, who is represented as passing by, and having compassion on the poor cast-out infant, will not suffer me to perish. O, I have no hope but in the wonderful, condescending, infinite mercy of God, through his dear Son. I cast my poor perishing soul, loaded with sin, as it is, upon his compassionate arms, assured that all will he forever safe.' On seeing my tears, he said, 'Are you not reconciled to the will of God, mylove?' When I told him I hoped I did not feel unreconciled, he continued, 'I have long ago, and many times, committed you and our little one into the hands of our covenant God. He is the husband of the widow and the father of the fatherless.Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me, saith the Lord. He will be your stay and support, when I am gone. The separation will be but short. O, how happy I shall be to welcome you to heaven.' He then addressed Mr. Mason, as follows:—'Brother, I am heartily rejoiced, and bless God that you have arrived, and especially am I gratified, that you are so much interested for the poor Karens. You will, I am assured, watch over them, and take care of them; and if some of them turn back, you will still care for them. As to my dear wife and child, I know you will do all in your power to make them comfortable. Mrs. B. will probably spend the ensuing rains in Tavoy. She will be happy with you and Mrs. Mason; that is, as happy as she can be in her state of loneliness. She will mourn for me, and a widow's state is desolate and sorrowful at best. But God will he infinitely better to her, than I have ever been.' On the same day, he wished me to read some hymns on affliction, sickness, death, &c. I took Wesley's Hymn Book, the only one we had with us, andread several, among others, the one beginning 'Ah, lovely appearance of death.'"On Wednesday evening, thirty-four persons were baptized. Mr. Boardman was carried to the waterside, though so weak that he could hardly breathe without the continual use of the fan and the smelling-bottle. The joyful sight was almost too much for his feeble frame. When we reached the chapel, he said he would like to sit up and take tea with us. We placed his cot near the table, and having bolstered him up, we took tea together. He asked the blessing, and did it with his right hand upraised, and in a tone that struck me to the heart. It was the same tremulous, yet urgent, and I had almost said, unearthly voice, with which my aged grandfather used to pray. We now began to notice that brightening of the mental faculties, which I had heard spoken of, in persons near their end."After tea was removed, all the disciples present, about fifty in number, gathered around him, and he addressed them for a few moments in language like the following:—'I did hope to stay with you till after Lord's-day, and administer to you once more the Lord's Supper. But God is calling me away from you. I am about to die, and shall soon be inconceivably happy in heaven. When I am gone, remember what I have taught you; and O, be careful to persevere unto the end, that when you die, we may meet one another in the presence of God, never more to part. Listen to the word of the new teacher and the teacheress as you have done to mine. The teacheress will be very much distressed. Strive to lighten her burdens, and comfort her by your good conduct. Do not neglect prayer. The eternal God, to whom you pray, is unchangeable. Earthly teachers sicken and die, but God remains forever the same. Love Jesus Christ with all your hearts, and you will be forever safe.' This address I gathered from the Karens, as I was absent preparing his things for the night. Having rested a few minutes, he offered a short prayer, and then with Mr. Mason's assistance, distributed tracts and portions of Scripture to them all. Early the next morning we left for home, accompanied by nearly all the males and some of the females, the remainder returning to their homes in the wilderness. Mr. Boardman was free from pain during the day, and there was no unfavorable change, except that his mouth grew sore. But at four o'clock in the afternoon, we were overtaken by a violent shower of rain accompanied by lightning and thunder. There was no house in sight, and we were obliged to remain in the open air, exposed to the merciless storm. We covered him with mats and blankets, and held our umbrellas over him, all to no purpose. I was obliged tostand and see the storm beating upon him, till his mattress and pillows were drenched with rain. We hastened on, and soon came to a Tavoy house. The inhabitants at first refused us admittance, and we ran for shelter into the out-houses. The shed I happened to enter, proved to be the 'house of their gods,' and thus I committed an almost unpardonable offence. After some persuasion they admitted us into the house, or rather verandah, for they would not allow us to sleep inside, though I begged the privilege for my sick husband with tears. In ordinary cases, perhaps, they would have been hospitable; but they knew that Mr. Boardman was a teacher of a foreign religion, and that the Karens in our company had embraced that religion."At evening worship, Mr. Boardman requested Mr. Mason to read the thirty-fourth Psalm. He seemed almost spent, and said, 'This poor perishing dust will soon be laid in the grave; but God can employ other lumps of clay to perform his will, as easily as he has this poor unworthy one.' I told him, I should like to sit up and watch by him, but he objected, and said in a tender supplicating tone, 'Cannot we sleep together?' The rain still continued, and his cot was wet, so that he was obliged to lie on the bamboo floor. Having found a place where our little boy could sleep without danger of falling through openings in the floor, I threwmyself down, without undressing, beside my beloved husband. I spoke to him often during the night, and he said he felt well, excepting an uncomfortable feeling in his mouth and throat. This was somewhat relieved by frequent washings with cold water. Miserably wretched as his situation was, he did not complain; on the contrary, his heart seemed overflowing with gratitude. 'O,' said he, 'how kind and good our Father in heaven is to me; how many are racked with pain, while I, though near the grave, am almost free from distress of body. I suffer nothing,nothingto what you, my dear Sarah, had to endure last year, when I thought I must lose you. And then I have you to move me so tenderly. I should have sunk into the grave ere this, but for your assiduous attention. And brother Mason is as kind to me as if he were my own brother. And then how many, in addition to pain of body, have anguish of soul, while my mind is sweetly stayed on God.' On my saying, 'I hope we shall be at home to-morrow night, where you can lie on your comfortable bed, and I can nurse you as I wish,' he said, 'I want nothing that the world can afford, but my wife and friends; earthly conveniences and comforts are of little consequence to one so near heaven. I only want them for your sake.' In the morning we thought him a little better, though I perceived, when I gave him his sago, that his breathwas very short. He, however, took rather more nourishment than usual, and spoke about the manner of his conveyance home. We ascertained that by waiting until twelve o'clock, we could go the greater part of the way by water."At about nine o'clock, his hands and feet grew cold, and the affectionate Karens rubbed them all the forenoon, excepting a few moments when he requested to be left alone. At ten o'clock, he was much distressed for breath, and I thought the long dreaded moment had arrived. I asked him, if he felt as if he was going home—'not just yet,' he replied. On giving him a little wine and water, he revived. Shortly after, he said, 'You were alarmed without cause just now, dear—I know the reason of the distress I felt, but am too weak to explain it to you.' In a few moments he said to me, 'Since you spoke to me about George, I have prayed for him almost incessantly—more than in all my life before.'"It drew near twelve, the time for us to go to the boat. We were distressed at the thought of removing him, when evidently so near the last struggle, though we did not think it so near as it really was. But there was no alternative. The chilling frown of the iron-faced Tavoyan was to us as if he was continually saying, 'be gone.' I wanted a little broth for my expiring husband, but on asking them for a fowl theysaid they had none, though at that instant, on glancing my eye through an opening in the floor, I saw three or four under the house. My heart was well nigh breaking."We hastened to the boat, which was only a few steps from the house. The Karens carried Mr. Boardman first, and as the shore was muddy, I was obliged to wait till they could return for me. They took me immediately to him; but O, the agony of my soul, when I saw the hand of death was on him! He was looking me full in the face, but his eyes were changed, not dimmed, but brightened, and the pupils so dilated, that I feared he could not see me. I spoke to him—kissed him—but he made no return, though I fancied that he tried to move his lips. I pressed his hand, knowing that if he could, he would return the pressure; but, alas! for the first time, he was insensible to my love, and forever. I had brought a glass of wine and water already mixed, and a smelling-bottle, but neither was of any avail to him now. Agreeably to a previous request, I called the faithful Karens, who loved him so much, and whom he had loved unto death, to come and watch his last gentle breathings, for there was no struggle."Never, my dear parents, did one of our poor fallen race have less to contend with, in the last enemy. Little George was brought to see his dying father, buthe was too young to know there was cause for grief When Sarah died, her father said to George, 'Poor little boy, you will not know to-morrow what you have lost to-day.' A deep pang rent my bosom at the recollection of this, and a still deeper one succeeded when the thought struck me, that though my little boy may not know to-morrow what he has lost to-day, yet when years have rolled by, and he shall have felt the unkindness of a deceitful, selfish world,he will know."Mr. Mason wept, and the sorrowing Karens knelt down in prayer to God—that God, of whom their expiring teacher had taught them—that God, into whose presence the emancipated spirit was just entering—that God, with whom they hope and expect to be happy forever. My own feelings I will not attempt to describe. You may have some faint idea of them, when you recollect what he was to me, how tenderly I loved him, and, at the same time, bear in mind the precious promises to the afflicted."We came in silence down the river, and landed about three miles from our house. The Karens placed his precious remains on his little bed, and with feelings which you can better imagine than I describe, we proceeded homewards. The mournful intelligence had reached town before us, and we were soon met by Moung Ing, the Burman preacher. At the sight ofus he burst into a flood of tears. Next, we met the two native Christian sisters, who lived with us. But the moment of most bitter anguish was yet to come on our arrival at the house. They took him into the sleeping-room, and when I uncovered his face, for a few moments, nothing was heard but reiterated sobs. He had not altered—the same sweet smile, with which he was wont to welcome me, sat on his countenance. His eyes had opened in bringing him, and all present seemed expecting to hear his voice; when the thought, that it was silent forever, rushed upon us, and filled us with anguish sudden and unutterable. There were the Burman Christians, who had listened so long, with edification and delight, to his preaching—there were the Karens, who looked to him as their guide, their earthly all—there were the scholars whom he had taught the way to heaven, and the Christian sisters, whose privilege it had been to wash, as it were, his feet."Early next morning, his funeral was attended, and all the Europeans in the place, with many natives, were present. It may be some consolation to you to know that everything was performed in as decent a manner, as if he had been buried in our own dear native land. By his own request, he was interred on the south side of our darling first-born. It is a pleasant circumstance to me, that they sleepside by side. Butit is infinitely more consoling to think, that their glorified spirits have met in that blissful world, where sin and death never enter, and sorrow is unknown."Praying that we may be abundantly prepared to enter into our glorious rest, I remain, my dear parents, your deeply afflicted, but most affectionate child,"Sarah H. Boardman."
Tavoy, March 7, 1831.
"My beloved Parents,
"With a heart glowing with joy, and at the same time rent with anguish unutterable, I take my pen to address you. You, too, will rejoice when you hear what God has wrought through the instrumentality of your beloved son. Yes, you will bless God that you were enabled to devote him to this blessed service among the heathen, when I tell you that within the last two months, fifty-seven have been baptized, all Karens, excepting one, a little boy of the school and son of the native governor. Twenty-three were baptized in this city by Moung Ing, and thirty-four in their native wilderness by Mr. Mason.
"Mr. Mason arrived Jan. 23d, and on the 31st, he, with Mr. Boardman, myself and George, set out on a long-promised tour among the Karens. Mr. Boardman was very feeble, but we hoped the change of air and scenery would be beneficial. A company of Karenshad come to convey us out, Mr. Boardman on his bed and me in a chair. We reached the place on the third day, and found they had erected a bamboo chapel on a beautiful stream at the base of a range of mountains. The place was central, and nearly one hundred persons had assembled, more than half of them applicants for baptism. Oh it was a sight calculated to call forth the liveliest joy of which human nature is susceptible, and made me, for a moment, forget my bitter griefs—a sight far surpassing all I had ever anticipated, even in my most sanguine hours. The Karens cooked, ate and slept on the around, by the river-side, with no other shelter than the trees of the forest. Three years ago they were sunk in the lowest depths of ignorance and superstition. Now the glad tidings of mercy had reached them, and they were willing to live in the open air, away from their homes, for the sake of enjoying the privileges of the Gospel.
"My dear husband had borne the journey better than we had feared, though he suffered from exhaustion and pain in his side, which, however, was much relieved by a little attention. His spirits were unusually good, and we fondly hoped that a few days' residence in that delightful, airy spot, surrounded by his loved Karens, would recruit and invigorate his weakened frame. But I soon perceived he was failing, and tenderly urged his return to town, where he couldenjoy the quiet of home, and the benefit of medical advice. But he repelled the thought at once, saying he confidently expected improvement from the change, and that the disappointment would be worse for him than staying. 'And even,' added he, 'should my poor, unprofitable life be somewhat shortened by staying, ought I, on that account merely, to leave this interesting field? Should I not rather stay and assist in gathering in these dear scattered lambs of the fold? You know, Sarah, that coming on a foreign mission involves the probability of a shorter life, than staying in one's native country. And yet obedience to our Lord, and compassion for the perishing heathen, induced us to make this sacrifice. And have we ever repented that we came? No; I trust we can both say that we bless God for bringing us to Burmah, for directing our footsteps to Tavoy, and even for leading us hither. You already know, my love,' he continued, with a look of tenderness never to be forgotten, 'that I cannot live long, I must sink under this disease; and should we go home now, the all-important business which brought us out, must be given up, and I might linger out a few days of suffering, stung with the reflection, that I had preferred a few idle days, to my Master's service. Do not, therefore, ask me to go, till these poor Karens have been baptized.' I saw he was right, but my feelings revolted. Nothing seemed sovaluable as his life, and I felt that I could make any sacrifice to prolong it, though it were but for one hour. Still a desire to gratify him, if no higher motive made me silent, though my heart ached to see him so ill in such a wretched place, deprived of many of the comforts of life, to say nothing of the indulgences desirable in sickness.
"The chapel was large, but open on all sides, excepting a small place built up for Mr. Mason, and a room about five feet wide and ten feet long, for the accommodation of Mr. Boardman and myself with our little boy. The roof was so low, that I could not stand upright; and it was but poorly enclosed, so that he was exposed to the burning rays of the sun by day, and to the cold winds and damp fog by night. But his mind was happy, and he would often say, 'If I live to see this one ingathering, I may well exclaim, with happy Simeon, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. How many ministers have wished they might die in their pulpits; and would not dying in a spot like this, be even more blessed than dying in a pulpit at home? I feel that it would.'
"Nor was it merely the pleasing state of things around him that filled his mind with comfort. He would sometimes dwell on the infinite compassion ofGod, and his own unworthiness, till his strength was quite exhausted; and though he told Mr. Mason that he had not the rapture which he had sometimes enjoyed, yet his mind was calm and peaceful; and it was plainly perceptible, that earthly passions had died way, and that he was enjoying sweet foretastes of that rest into which he was so soon to enter. He would often say to me, 'My meditations are very sweet, though my mind seems as much weakened as my body. I have not had that liveliness of feeling, which I have sometimes enjoyed, owing to my great weakness, but I shall soon be released from shackles, and be where I can praise God continually, without weariness. My thoughts delight to dwell on these words,There is no night there.'
"I felt that the time of separation was fast approaching, and said to him, 'My dear, I have one request to make; it is, that you would pray much for George, during your few remaining days. I shall soon be left alone, almost the only one on earth to pray for him, and I have great confidence in your dying prayers.' He looked earnestly at the little boy, and said, 'I will try to pray for him; but I trust very many prayers will ascend for the dear child from our friends at home, who will be induced to supplicate the more earnestly for him, when they hear that he is left fatherless in a heathen land.'
"On Wednesday, while looking in the glass, he seemed at once to see symptoms of his approaching dissolution, and said, without emotion, 'I have altered greatly—I am sinking into the grave very fast—just on the verge.' Mr. Mason said to him, 'Is there nothing we can do for you? Had we not better call the physician? Or shall we try to remove you into town immediately?' After a few moments' deliberation, it was concluded to defer the baptism of the male applicants, and set out for home early the next morning. Nearly all the female candidates had been examined, and as it is difficult for them to come to town, it was thought best that Mr. Mason should baptize them in the evening. We knelt, and Mr. Mason having prayed for a blessing on the decision, we sat down to breakfast with sorrowful hearts.
"While we were at the table, my beloved husband said, 'I shall soon be thrown away for this world; but I hope the Lord Jesus will take me up. That merciful Being, who is represented as passing by, and having compassion on the poor cast-out infant, will not suffer me to perish. O, I have no hope but in the wonderful, condescending, infinite mercy of God, through his dear Son. I cast my poor perishing soul, loaded with sin, as it is, upon his compassionate arms, assured that all will he forever safe.' On seeing my tears, he said, 'Are you not reconciled to the will of God, mylove?' When I told him I hoped I did not feel unreconciled, he continued, 'I have long ago, and many times, committed you and our little one into the hands of our covenant God. He is the husband of the widow and the father of the fatherless.Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me, saith the Lord. He will be your stay and support, when I am gone. The separation will be but short. O, how happy I shall be to welcome you to heaven.' He then addressed Mr. Mason, as follows:—'Brother, I am heartily rejoiced, and bless God that you have arrived, and especially am I gratified, that you are so much interested for the poor Karens. You will, I am assured, watch over them, and take care of them; and if some of them turn back, you will still care for them. As to my dear wife and child, I know you will do all in your power to make them comfortable. Mrs. B. will probably spend the ensuing rains in Tavoy. She will be happy with you and Mrs. Mason; that is, as happy as she can be in her state of loneliness. She will mourn for me, and a widow's state is desolate and sorrowful at best. But God will he infinitely better to her, than I have ever been.' On the same day, he wished me to read some hymns on affliction, sickness, death, &c. I took Wesley's Hymn Book, the only one we had with us, andread several, among others, the one beginning 'Ah, lovely appearance of death.'
"On Wednesday evening, thirty-four persons were baptized. Mr. Boardman was carried to the waterside, though so weak that he could hardly breathe without the continual use of the fan and the smelling-bottle. The joyful sight was almost too much for his feeble frame. When we reached the chapel, he said he would like to sit up and take tea with us. We placed his cot near the table, and having bolstered him up, we took tea together. He asked the blessing, and did it with his right hand upraised, and in a tone that struck me to the heart. It was the same tremulous, yet urgent, and I had almost said, unearthly voice, with which my aged grandfather used to pray. We now began to notice that brightening of the mental faculties, which I had heard spoken of, in persons near their end.
"After tea was removed, all the disciples present, about fifty in number, gathered around him, and he addressed them for a few moments in language like the following:—'I did hope to stay with you till after Lord's-day, and administer to you once more the Lord's Supper. But God is calling me away from you. I am about to die, and shall soon be inconceivably happy in heaven. When I am gone, remember what I have taught you; and O, be careful to persevere unto the end, that when you die, we may meet one another in the presence of God, never more to part. Listen to the word of the new teacher and the teacheress as you have done to mine. The teacheress will be very much distressed. Strive to lighten her burdens, and comfort her by your good conduct. Do not neglect prayer. The eternal God, to whom you pray, is unchangeable. Earthly teachers sicken and die, but God remains forever the same. Love Jesus Christ with all your hearts, and you will be forever safe.' This address I gathered from the Karens, as I was absent preparing his things for the night. Having rested a few minutes, he offered a short prayer, and then with Mr. Mason's assistance, distributed tracts and portions of Scripture to them all. Early the next morning we left for home, accompanied by nearly all the males and some of the females, the remainder returning to their homes in the wilderness. Mr. Boardman was free from pain during the day, and there was no unfavorable change, except that his mouth grew sore. But at four o'clock in the afternoon, we were overtaken by a violent shower of rain accompanied by lightning and thunder. There was no house in sight, and we were obliged to remain in the open air, exposed to the merciless storm. We covered him with mats and blankets, and held our umbrellas over him, all to no purpose. I was obliged tostand and see the storm beating upon him, till his mattress and pillows were drenched with rain. We hastened on, and soon came to a Tavoy house. The inhabitants at first refused us admittance, and we ran for shelter into the out-houses. The shed I happened to enter, proved to be the 'house of their gods,' and thus I committed an almost unpardonable offence. After some persuasion they admitted us into the house, or rather verandah, for they would not allow us to sleep inside, though I begged the privilege for my sick husband with tears. In ordinary cases, perhaps, they would have been hospitable; but they knew that Mr. Boardman was a teacher of a foreign religion, and that the Karens in our company had embraced that religion.
"At evening worship, Mr. Boardman requested Mr. Mason to read the thirty-fourth Psalm. He seemed almost spent, and said, 'This poor perishing dust will soon be laid in the grave; but God can employ other lumps of clay to perform his will, as easily as he has this poor unworthy one.' I told him, I should like to sit up and watch by him, but he objected, and said in a tender supplicating tone, 'Cannot we sleep together?' The rain still continued, and his cot was wet, so that he was obliged to lie on the bamboo floor. Having found a place where our little boy could sleep without danger of falling through openings in the floor, I threwmyself down, without undressing, beside my beloved husband. I spoke to him often during the night, and he said he felt well, excepting an uncomfortable feeling in his mouth and throat. This was somewhat relieved by frequent washings with cold water. Miserably wretched as his situation was, he did not complain; on the contrary, his heart seemed overflowing with gratitude. 'O,' said he, 'how kind and good our Father in heaven is to me; how many are racked with pain, while I, though near the grave, am almost free from distress of body. I suffer nothing,nothingto what you, my dear Sarah, had to endure last year, when I thought I must lose you. And then I have you to move me so tenderly. I should have sunk into the grave ere this, but for your assiduous attention. And brother Mason is as kind to me as if he were my own brother. And then how many, in addition to pain of body, have anguish of soul, while my mind is sweetly stayed on God.' On my saying, 'I hope we shall be at home to-morrow night, where you can lie on your comfortable bed, and I can nurse you as I wish,' he said, 'I want nothing that the world can afford, but my wife and friends; earthly conveniences and comforts are of little consequence to one so near heaven. I only want them for your sake.' In the morning we thought him a little better, though I perceived, when I gave him his sago, that his breathwas very short. He, however, took rather more nourishment than usual, and spoke about the manner of his conveyance home. We ascertained that by waiting until twelve o'clock, we could go the greater part of the way by water.
"At about nine o'clock, his hands and feet grew cold, and the affectionate Karens rubbed them all the forenoon, excepting a few moments when he requested to be left alone. At ten o'clock, he was much distressed for breath, and I thought the long dreaded moment had arrived. I asked him, if he felt as if he was going home—'not just yet,' he replied. On giving him a little wine and water, he revived. Shortly after, he said, 'You were alarmed without cause just now, dear—I know the reason of the distress I felt, but am too weak to explain it to you.' In a few moments he said to me, 'Since you spoke to me about George, I have prayed for him almost incessantly—more than in all my life before.'
"It drew near twelve, the time for us to go to the boat. We were distressed at the thought of removing him, when evidently so near the last struggle, though we did not think it so near as it really was. But there was no alternative. The chilling frown of the iron-faced Tavoyan was to us as if he was continually saying, 'be gone.' I wanted a little broth for my expiring husband, but on asking them for a fowl theysaid they had none, though at that instant, on glancing my eye through an opening in the floor, I saw three or four under the house. My heart was well nigh breaking.
"We hastened to the boat, which was only a few steps from the house. The Karens carried Mr. Boardman first, and as the shore was muddy, I was obliged to wait till they could return for me. They took me immediately to him; but O, the agony of my soul, when I saw the hand of death was on him! He was looking me full in the face, but his eyes were changed, not dimmed, but brightened, and the pupils so dilated, that I feared he could not see me. I spoke to him—kissed him—but he made no return, though I fancied that he tried to move his lips. I pressed his hand, knowing that if he could, he would return the pressure; but, alas! for the first time, he was insensible to my love, and forever. I had brought a glass of wine and water already mixed, and a smelling-bottle, but neither was of any avail to him now. Agreeably to a previous request, I called the faithful Karens, who loved him so much, and whom he had loved unto death, to come and watch his last gentle breathings, for there was no struggle.
"Never, my dear parents, did one of our poor fallen race have less to contend with, in the last enemy. Little George was brought to see his dying father, buthe was too young to know there was cause for grief When Sarah died, her father said to George, 'Poor little boy, you will not know to-morrow what you have lost to-day.' A deep pang rent my bosom at the recollection of this, and a still deeper one succeeded when the thought struck me, that though my little boy may not know to-morrow what he has lost to-day, yet when years have rolled by, and he shall have felt the unkindness of a deceitful, selfish world,he will know.
"Mr. Mason wept, and the sorrowing Karens knelt down in prayer to God—that God, of whom their expiring teacher had taught them—that God, into whose presence the emancipated spirit was just entering—that God, with whom they hope and expect to be happy forever. My own feelings I will not attempt to describe. You may have some faint idea of them, when you recollect what he was to me, how tenderly I loved him, and, at the same time, bear in mind the precious promises to the afflicted.
"We came in silence down the river, and landed about three miles from our house. The Karens placed his precious remains on his little bed, and with feelings which you can better imagine than I describe, we proceeded homewards. The mournful intelligence had reached town before us, and we were soon met by Moung Ing, the Burman preacher. At the sight ofus he burst into a flood of tears. Next, we met the two native Christian sisters, who lived with us. But the moment of most bitter anguish was yet to come on our arrival at the house. They took him into the sleeping-room, and when I uncovered his face, for a few moments, nothing was heard but reiterated sobs. He had not altered—the same sweet smile, with which he was wont to welcome me, sat on his countenance. His eyes had opened in bringing him, and all present seemed expecting to hear his voice; when the thought, that it was silent forever, rushed upon us, and filled us with anguish sudden and unutterable. There were the Burman Christians, who had listened so long, with edification and delight, to his preaching—there were the Karens, who looked to him as their guide, their earthly all—there were the scholars whom he had taught the way to heaven, and the Christian sisters, whose privilege it had been to wash, as it were, his feet.
"Early next morning, his funeral was attended, and all the Europeans in the place, with many natives, were present. It may be some consolation to you to know that everything was performed in as decent a manner, as if he had been buried in our own dear native land. By his own request, he was interred on the south side of our darling first-born. It is a pleasant circumstance to me, that they sleepside by side. Butit is infinitely more consoling to think, that their glorified spirits have met in that blissful world, where sin and death never enter, and sorrow is unknown.
"Praying that we may be abundantly prepared to enter into our glorious rest, I remain, my dear parents, your deeply afflicted, but most affectionate child,
"Sarah H. Boardman."
Well might Mr. Judson say, "One of the brightest luminaries of Burmah is extinguished, dear brother Boardman is gone to his eternal rest. He fell gloriously at the head of his troops, in the arms of victory, thirty-seven wild Karens having been brought into the camp of our king since the beginning of the year, besides the thirty-two that were brought in during the two preceding years. Disabled by wounds, he was obliged through the whole of his last expedition, to be carried on a litter; but his presence was a host, and the Holy Spirit accompanied his dying whispers with almighty influence. Such a death, next to that of martyrdom, must be glorious in the eyes of Heaven. Well may we rest assured, that a triumphal crown awaits him on the great day, and 'Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!'" This is in the spirit of Montgomery's noble hymn, with an extract from which we will close the account of George Dana Boardman.
"Soldier of Christ, well done!Rest from thy loved employ:The battle fought, the victory won,Enter thy Master's joy.At midnight came the cry,To meet thy God prepare!He woke, and caught his Captain's eye;Then, strong in faith and prayerHis spirit, with a bound,Left its encumbering clay;His tent, at sunrise, on the ground,A darkened ruin lay."
"Soldier of Christ, well done!Rest from thy loved employ:The battle fought, the victory won,Enter thy Master's joy.
At midnight came the cry,To meet thy God prepare!He woke, and caught his Captain's eye;Then, strong in faith and prayer
His spirit, with a bound,Left its encumbering clay;His tent, at sunrise, on the ground,A darkened ruin lay."
Mrs. Boardman found the society of Mr. and Mrs. Mason a sweet solace to her sad heart. They joined her at Tavoy in the spring of 1831, and assisted her in her school, besides studying the language. Her letters to her sister show a spirit chastened and saddened, but not crushed by sorrow, and still tenderly solicitous for the spiritual welfare of her dear brothers and sisters in America. She urges them by every motive, to embrace that Saviour she had found so precious. After telling them of the "glorious revival among the Karens," and of the baptism of seventy-three of them, she asks how they feel when they hear of the conversion of these poor children of the wilderness? "Some," she says, "indeed most of those who have been baptized, were impressed with the infinite importance of religion at the first time of hearing the gospel, and gave themselves no rest till they found it in the Saviour. O, I tremble and can scarcely hold my pen while I think of the awful accountyoumust render toGod, if after all your privileges, you fall short of Heaven at last.... How can you resist any longer? You cannot, you will not—something tells me you will give yourself immediately, unreservedly to that compassionate Saviour whose love was stronger than death."
Her confidence was justified; for some months later she says, "Dearly beloved brother and sister, a parcel of letters from America has reached us, which we eagerly opened, ... and received the delightful, heart-cheering intelligence that you have both become followers of Jesus, and have openly professed his name, and that two others of the dear children are serious.... Oh I have wept hours at the thought of God's goodness in giving me such joyful news in the midst of my sorrows. And is it indeed true that my own dear Harriet and my dearly loved brother are adopted into the family of God's chosen ones? Are your names really written in the Lamb's book of life?... And do each of you when alone in your closet before your Heavenly Father, feel that he draws near to you, and that sweeter than all the pleasures of the world is communion with him? O I know that you do; and now do I feel a union with you unknown before. How sweet to feel, that while wandering, a lonely desolate widow, some of those whom I most love, remember me every day before a throne of grace. Now whenI kneel in prayer the voice of praise is on my lips. At each thought of home, my heart leaps for joy, and I feel as if relieved of a heavy burden which continually weighed down my spirits while thinking of my absent brothers and sisters.... The accounts of the glorious revivals in different parts of our dear native land have greatly refreshed our hearts, and we are ready to exclaim, surely the millennium has dawned for happy America. Perhaps you think such intelligence makes me wish to return. But no, my dear brothers and sisters, it makes me feel just the reverse. I do most ardently long to labor in this dark land till the day dawns upon us, ... rather I should say till the Sun of Righteousness reaches themeridianof Burmah, for the day has already dawned, and the eastern Karen mountains, enveloped for ages past in midnight gloom, are rejoicing in his bright beams.
"Our schools are very flourishing.... We have sixty scholars in town, and about fifty among the Karens in the jungles. I feel desolate, lonely, and sometimes deeply distressed at my great and irreparable loss,—but I bless God I am not in despair. My darling George is in good health, and is a source of much comfort, though of deep anxiety to me. He is learning to read, but is not so forward as children at home. How it comforts my heart to be able to ask you to pray for him!"
In a hurried postscript she adds: "There are more than eighty Karens at our house, upwards of twenty of them applicants for baptism."
In another letter: "Death now seems nearer to me, and Heaven dearer than before I was afflicted; ... my afflictions are precisely the kind my soul needed.... I receive from my dear friends the Masons, every possible kindness. But alas! the hours of loneliness and bitter weeping I endure, are known only to God. But still Jesus has sweetened the cup, and I would not that it should have passed my lip."
Three courses of life were now open to Mrs. Boardman. Either to devote herself to her domestic duties, manage her household, educate her darling boy, and in quiet seclusion pass the weary days of her widowhood; or—looking abroad on the spiritual wants of the people around her, knowing that if one devoted laborer was gone there was the more need of activity in those that remained,—she might continue to employ her time and faculties in instructing and elevating those in whose service her husband had worn out his life; or, thirdly, she might take her child, her "only one," and return to the land of her birth, where she still had dear parents, brothers and sisters, who would welcome her with open arms, and where she could give her son those advantages which he never could have in a heathen land. To adopt either the first or thelast of these courses, she was urged by her natural disposition, which was singularly modest and retiring, her feeble health, the enervating influence of the climate, and above all by the strong tendency to self-indulgence which always accompanies a heart-rending sorrow. "But oh," she says in a letter to a friend, "these poor, inquiring and Christian Karens, and the school-boys, and the Burmese Christians" ... and the thought ofthesemade her more than willing to adopt the second course; for she says, "My beloved husband wore out his life in this glorious cause; and that remembrance makes me more than ever attached to the work and the people for whose salvation he labored till death."
During her husband's life-time. Mrs. Boardman had of course little to perform of what could properly be called missionary labor; even her teaching in the schools was very often interrupted by sickness, and the schools themselves were often broken up by untoward events which the Missionaries could not control. Now, however, new circumstances called her to new and untried duties. Yet there was no sudden or violent change in her mode of life. The honored lips that had instructed, and guided, and comforted the ignorant natives, were sealed in death; yet still those natives continued to turn their eyes and their steps to the loved residence of their teacher whenever theyfound themselves oppressed with difficulty or distress and could the widow of that venerated teacher refuse to those poor disciples any guidance or consolation it was in her power to bestow? No; quietly and meekly she instructed the ignorant, consoled the afflicted, led inquirers to her Saviour, and warned the impenitent to flee to him; and if insensibly she thus came to fill a place from which her nature would instinctively have shrunk, there was still about her such a modest and womanly grace, combined with such a serious and dignified purpose of soul, that the most fastidious could have found nothing to censure, while lovers of the cause she had espoused, found everything to commend. "I rejoice," writes a friend in this country to her, on hearing of her self-sacrificing labors, "that your husband's mantle has fallen upon you ... and that more than ever before, it is in your heart to benefit the heathen."
That her duties were arduous, her letters fully prove. In one of them she says, "Every moment of my time is occupiedfrom sunrise till ten in the evening. It is late-bed time, and I am surrounded by five Karen women, three of whom arrived this afternoon from the jungle, after being separated from us nearly five months by the heavy rains. The Karens are beginning to come to us in companies; and with them, and our scholars in the town, and the care of my darlingboy, you will scarce think I have much leisure for letter-writing."
Thus she toiled on, cheered by the consciousness that she was in the path of duty: that her husband if permitted from his home in heaven to watch over the spot he most loved on earth, would smile approvingly on her labors; and encouraged by the affection of many of the disciples, and the interest awakened among some new inquirers.
But it cannot be doubted that her trials were at least equal to her encouragements. Long before, Mr. Boardman had written, "the thoughts of this people," the Burmans, "run in channels entirely different from ours. Their whole system has a tendency to cramp their intellectual powers;—professedly divine in its origin, it demands credence without evidence; it spurns improvement, disdains the suggestions of experience, and flatly denies the testimony of the external senses. What a man sees with his own eyes he is not to believe, because his Scriptures teach otherwise.... There is no fellowship of thought between them and us on any subject. Everything appears to them in a different light, they attribute everything to a different cause, seek a remedy of evils from a different quarter, and entertain, in fine, a set of thoughts and imaginations totally different from ours." The Karens, it is true, had fewer prejudices to be eradicated, and moreeasily sympathized with the missionaries than the haughty, self-sufficient Burmans; but then their very docility made them liable to another danger, that of holding their new faith lightly, and parting with it easily. All these difficulties sometimes so pressed upon Mrs. Boardman, that she was ready to say, "It requires the patience of a Job and the wisdom of a Solomon to get on with this people; much as I love them, and good as I think they are." She then spoke of theconverts; in whom was implanted that grace which, so far as it operates on the heart, makes all, in a sense,onein Christ Jesus; how then must she have been tried with those who would not repent and embrace the only principles that could give her the least fellowship or communion with them?
Jan. 19, 1832.—Mrs. Boardman writes of herself and her fellow-missionaries, Mr. and Mrs. Mason, "We meet with much encouragement in our schools, and our number of day-scholars is now about eighty. These, with the boarding schools, two village schools, and about fifty persons who learn during the rainy season in the Karen jungle, make upwards of one hundred and seventy under our instruction. The scholars in the jungle cannot of course visit us often but a great many have come to be examined in their lessons, and we are surprised and delighted at the progress they have made."
Of course they had to employ, as teachers of these schools, natives, who needed constant supervision and superintendence. Some of these teachers were exceedingly interesting persons. Of the death of one of them she writes, "Thah-oung continued in his school till two days before his death, although for a long time he had been very ill. He felt, then, that hemustdie, and said to his scholars, 'I can do no more—God is calling me away from you,—I go into His presence—be not dismayed.' He was then carried to the house of his father, a few miles distant, and there he continued exhorting and praying to the very last moment. His widow, who is not yet fifteen, is one of the loveliest of our desert blossoms." And afterwards in alluding to the same event, she says, "One of our best Karen teachers came to see us, and through him we heard that the disciples were well; that they were living in love, in the enjoyment of religion, and had nothing to distress them, but the death of their beloved teacher. Poor Moung Quay was obliged to turn away his face to weep several times while answering my inquiries. Oh how they feel the stroke that has fallen upon them. And well they may, for he was to them a father and a guide."
"The superintendence of the food and clothing of both the boarding schools," she afterwards writes, "together with the care of five day-schools under nativeteachers, devolves wholly on me. Our day-schools are growing every week more and more interesting. We cannot, it is true, expect to see among them so much progress, especially in Christianity, as our boarders make; but they are constantly gaining religious knowledge, and will grow up with comparatively correct ideas. They with their teachers attend worship regularly on Lord's-day. The day-schools are entirely supported at present by the Honorable Company's allowance, and the civil commissioner, Mr. Maingy appears much interested in their success."
An interesting letter from the gentleman mentioned at the close of the last chapter, with Mrs. Boardman's reply, we will give entire, as they exhibit at once her firmness of principle, and the high respect she commanded from the European residents in the country.
"Tavoy, Aug. 24, 1833."My dear Sir,"Mr. Mason has handed me for perusal, the extract from your letter to Government, which you kindly sent him. I apprehend I have hitherto had wrong impressions in reference to the ground on which the Honorable Company patronize schools in their territories; and I hope you will allow me to say, that it would not accord with my feelings and sentiments, to banish religious instruction from the schools under my care. I think it desirable for the rising generation of this Province, to become acquainted with useful science; and the male part of the population, with the English language. But it is infinitely more important that they receive into their hearts our holy religion, which is the source of so much happiness in this state, and imparts the hope of a glorious immortality in the world to come. Parents and guardians must know that there is more or less danger of their children deserting the faith of their ancestors, if placed under the care of a Foreign Missionary; and the example of some of the pupils is calculated to increase such apprehensions. Mr. Boardman baptized into the Christian religion several of his scholars. One of the number is now a devoted preacher; and notwithstanding the decease of their beloved and revered teacher, they all, with one unhappy exception, remain firm in the Christian faith."The success of the Hindoo College, where religious instruction was interdicted, may perhaps be urged in favor of pursuing a similar course in schools here. But it strikes me, that the case is different here, even admittingtheircourse to be right. The overthrow of a system so replete with cruel and impure rites, as the Hindoo, or so degrading as the Mahometan,mightbe matter of joy, though no better religion were introduced in its stead. But the Burman system of morality is superior to that of the nations round them, and to the heathen of ancient times, and is surpassedonly by the divine precepts of our blessed Saviour. Like all other merelyhumaninstitutions, it is destitute of saving power; but its influence on the people, so far as it is felt, is salutary, and their moral character will, I should think, bear a comparison with that of any heathen nation in the world. The person who should spend his days in teaching them mere human science, (though he might undermine their false tenets,) by neglecting to set before them brighter hopes and purer principles, would, I imagine, live to very little purpose. For myself, sure I am, I should at last suffer the overwhelming conviction of having labored in vain."With this view of things, you will not, my dear sir, be surprised at my saying, it is impossible for me to pursue a course so utterly repugnant to my feelings, and so contrary to my judgment, as to banish religious instruction from the schools in my charge. It is what I am confident you yourself would not wish; but I infer from a remark in your letter that such are the terms on which Government affords patronage. It would be wrong to deceive the patrons of the schools and if my supposition is correct, I can do no otherwise than request, that the monthly allowance be withdrawn. It will assist in establishing schools at Maulmain on a plan more consonant with the wishes of Government than mine has ever been. MeanwhileI trust, I shall be able to represent the claims of my pupils in such a manner, as to obtain support and countenance from those, who would wish the children to be taught the principles of the Christian faith."Allow me, my dear sir, to subscribe myself,"Yours, most respectfully,"Sarah H. Boardman."
"Tavoy, Aug. 24, 1833.
"My dear Sir,
"Mr. Mason has handed me for perusal, the extract from your letter to Government, which you kindly sent him. I apprehend I have hitherto had wrong impressions in reference to the ground on which the Honorable Company patronize schools in their territories; and I hope you will allow me to say, that it would not accord with my feelings and sentiments, to banish religious instruction from the schools under my care. I think it desirable for the rising generation of this Province, to become acquainted with useful science; and the male part of the population, with the English language. But it is infinitely more important that they receive into their hearts our holy religion, which is the source of so much happiness in this state, and imparts the hope of a glorious immortality in the world to come. Parents and guardians must know that there is more or less danger of their children deserting the faith of their ancestors, if placed under the care of a Foreign Missionary; and the example of some of the pupils is calculated to increase such apprehensions. Mr. Boardman baptized into the Christian religion several of his scholars. One of the number is now a devoted preacher; and notwithstanding the decease of their beloved and revered teacher, they all, with one unhappy exception, remain firm in the Christian faith.
"The success of the Hindoo College, where religious instruction was interdicted, may perhaps be urged in favor of pursuing a similar course in schools here. But it strikes me, that the case is different here, even admittingtheircourse to be right. The overthrow of a system so replete with cruel and impure rites, as the Hindoo, or so degrading as the Mahometan,mightbe matter of joy, though no better religion were introduced in its stead. But the Burman system of morality is superior to that of the nations round them, and to the heathen of ancient times, and is surpassedonly by the divine precepts of our blessed Saviour. Like all other merelyhumaninstitutions, it is destitute of saving power; but its influence on the people, so far as it is felt, is salutary, and their moral character will, I should think, bear a comparison with that of any heathen nation in the world. The person who should spend his days in teaching them mere human science, (though he might undermine their false tenets,) by neglecting to set before them brighter hopes and purer principles, would, I imagine, live to very little purpose. For myself, sure I am, I should at last suffer the overwhelming conviction of having labored in vain.
"With this view of things, you will not, my dear sir, be surprised at my saying, it is impossible for me to pursue a course so utterly repugnant to my feelings, and so contrary to my judgment, as to banish religious instruction from the schools in my charge. It is what I am confident you yourself would not wish; but I infer from a remark in your letter that such are the terms on which Government affords patronage. It would be wrong to deceive the patrons of the schools and if my supposition is correct, I can do no otherwise than request, that the monthly allowance be withdrawn. It will assist in establishing schools at Maulmain on a plan more consonant with the wishes of Government than mine has ever been. MeanwhileI trust, I shall be able to represent the claims of my pupils in such a manner, as to obtain support and countenance from those, who would wish the children to be taught the principles of the Christian faith.
"Allow me, my dear sir, to subscribe myself,
"Yours, most respectfully,
"Sarah H. Boardman."
"My dear Madam,"I cannot do otherwise than honor and respect the sentiments conveyed in your letter, now received. You will, I hope, give me credit for sincerity, when I assure you, that in alluding to the system of instruction pursued by you, it has ever been a source of pride to me, to point out the quiet way, in which your scholars have been made acquainted with the Christian religion. My own Government in no way proscribes the teaching of Christianity. The observations in my official letter are intended to support what I have before brought to the notice of Government, thatallare received, who present themselves for instruction at your schools, without any stipulation as to their becoming members of the Christian faith.I cannot express to you how much your letter has distressed me. It has been a subject of consideration with me, for some months past, how I could best succeed in establishing a college here, the scholars ofwhich were to have been instructed in the same system which you have so successfully pursued. Believe me,"Yours very faithfully,"A.D. Maingy"Saturday."
"My dear Madam,
"I cannot do otherwise than honor and respect the sentiments conveyed in your letter, now received. You will, I hope, give me credit for sincerity, when I assure you, that in alluding to the system of instruction pursued by you, it has ever been a source of pride to me, to point out the quiet way, in which your scholars have been made acquainted with the Christian religion. My own Government in no way proscribes the teaching of Christianity. The observations in my official letter are intended to support what I have before brought to the notice of Government, thatallare received, who present themselves for instruction at your schools, without any stipulation as to their becoming members of the Christian faith.
I cannot express to you how much your letter has distressed me. It has been a subject of consideration with me, for some months past, how I could best succeed in establishing a college here, the scholars ofwhich were to have been instructed in the same system which you have so successfully pursued. Believe me,
"Yours very faithfully,
"A.D. Maingy
"Saturday."
Appropriations were afterward made by the British government for schools throughout the Provinces "to be conducted on the plan of Mrs. Boardman's schools at Tavoy;" and although the propagation of Christianity in theotherschools was subsequently prohibited, yet inher own, she always taught as her conscience dictated.
It had been one of Mr. Boardman's practices to make frequent tours among the Karen villages, to preach the gospel, and strengthen the disciples and the feeble churches. Even from this duty, as far as the visitation was concerned, his widow did not shrink, although shedidshrink from writing or speaking much on the subject; doubtless always regarding it as a cross, which although she might bear with patience, she would willingly lay down as soon as duty should permit. Attended by her faithful Karens, and her little boy borne in their arms,—leaving Mr. Mason to his indispensable task of acquiring the language, she would thread the wild passes of the mountains, and the obscure paths of the jungle, fording the smaller streamsand carried over the larger in a chair borne on bamboo poles by her followers,—carrying joy and gladness to the hearts of the simple-minded villagers, and cheering her own by witnessing their constancy and fidelity.
In her own inimitable style "Fanny Forrester" gives an account of an adventure of Mrs. Boardman during one of these excursions; in which the impression she made upon an English officer who encountered her far from civilized habitations, so unexpectedly that he almost mistook her for an angel visitant from a better sphere, was sufficiently pleasant to form the basis of a lasting friendship between them. Indeed there are many testimonials to Mrs. Boardman's personal loveliness and grace of manner. In Calcutta, where she resided nearly two years, she was regarded as a "finished lady;" and in a well-written tribute to her memory, published in the Mother's Journal, she is described as "of about middle stature, agreeable in personal appearance, and winning in manners. The first impression of an observer respecting her in her youth, would be of a gentle, confiding, persuasive being, who would sweeten the cup of life to those who drank it with her. But further acquaintance would develop strength as well as loveliness of character. It would be seen that she could do and endure, as well as love and please. Sweetness and strength, gentleness and firmness, were in her character most happily blended.Her mind was both poetical and practical. She had a refined taste, and a love for the beautiful as well as the excellent." But all these fine gifts and endowments were consecrated; the offering she had made on her Saviour's altar was unreserved; nor do we find that she ever cast back to the world where she might have shone so brilliantly, "one longing, lingering look."
She is said by her fellow Missionaries to have made wonderful proficiency in the Burman language, and indeed she translated into it Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. She loved the language much; and used to read the Scriptures in it in preference to reading them in English. She once said to Mrs. Mason, "I should be willing to learn Burmese, for the sake of reading the Scriptures in that language."
The translation of the Scriptures into Burmese is a work for which Burmah is indebted to Dr. Judson For many years this devoted servant of Christ employed on this great work every moment he could spare from pastoral labor; and there is something truly sublime in the record he has left of the completion of it, in his Journal under date of Jan. 31, 1834: "Thanks be to god, I can now say, I have attained!I have knelt down before him, with the last leaf in my hand, and imploring his forgiveness for all the sins which have polluted my labors in this department, and his aid in future efforts to remove the errors and imperfections which necessarily cleave to the work, I have commended it to his mercy and grace; I have dedicated it to his glory. May he make his own inspired word, now complete in the Burman tongue, the grand instrument of filling all Burmah with songs and praises to our great God and Saviour, Jesus Christ Amen."
On the tenth of April, 1834, Mrs. Boardman was married to one whose character she afterwards declared to be "a complete assemblage of all that woman could wish to love and honor," the Rev. Dr. Judson With him she removed to her new home in Maulmain, which had undergone wonderful changes since she left it in 1828. Then, the only church there hadthreenative members; now she found there three churches numbering two hundred members! Her duties now were different from what they had been, but not less important; and in a letter written to a very intimate friend one year after her marriage, we find her thus expressing herself: "I can truly say that the mission cause, and missionary labor is increasingly dear to me, every month of my life. I am now united with one whose heavenly spirit and example is deeply calculated to make me more devoted to the cause than I ever have been before. O that I may profit by such precious advantages."
Many Missionaries had arrived from America and established themselves in different places; several resided at Maulmain; so that Mrs. Judson, as we must now call her, could enjoy much Christian society besides that of the natives. But neither she nor her fellow-laborers had much time to devote exclusively to social intercourse. Beside schools to superintend, and Bible-classes to conduct, and prayer-meetings to attend, societies were to be formed among the half-educated native females in which they could be instructed in maternal and social duties. In addition to these cares, Mrs. Judson took upon herself the task of acquiring a new language, in order to instruct the Peguans, a people who had put themselves under the protection of the British, after revolting against the Burmans. This people were so numerous in Maulmain that the missionaries felt constrained to furnish them with instruction.
Under these labors, Mrs. Judson's health again failed but after some weeks of suffering, she began to recover, and for many subsequent years her health was uninterrupted. In a letter written some time after, she accounts for her enjoyment of health, in the following manner:—
"When I first came up from Tavoy, I was thin and pale; and though I called myself pretty well, I had no appetite for food, and was scarce able to walk half amile. Soon after, I was called to endure a long and severe attack of illness, which brought me to the brink of the grave. I was never so low in any former illness, and the doctor who attended me, has since told me, that he had no hope of my recovery; and that when he came to prescribe medicine for me, it was more out of regard to the feelings of my husband, than from any prospect of its affording me relief. I lay confined to my bed, week after week, unable to move, except as Mr. Judson sometimes carried me in his arms from the bed to the couch for a change; and even this once brought on a return of the disease, which very nearly cost me my life. * * I never shall forget the precious seasons enjoyed on that sick bed. Little George will tell you about it, if you should ever see him. I think he will always remember some sweet conversations I had with him, on the state of his soul, at that time. Dear child! his mind was very tender, and he would weep on account of his sins, and would kneel down and pray with all the fervor and simplicity of childhood. He used to read the Bible to me every day, and commit little hymns to memory by my bedside. * * It pleased my Heavenly Father to raise me up again, although I was for a long time very weak. As soon as I was able, I commenced riding on horseback, and used to take a long ride every morning before sunrise. After a patient trial, I foundthat riding improved my health; though many times I should have become discouraged and given it up, but for the perseverance of my husband. After riding almost every day, for four or five months, I found my health so much improved, and gained strength so fast, that I began to think walking might be substituted. About this time, my nice little pony died, and we commenced a regular system of exercise on foot, walking at a rapid pace, far over the hills beyond the town, before the sun was up, every morning. We have continued this perseveringly up to the present time; and, during these years, my health has been better than at any time previous, since my arrival in India; and my constitution seems to have undergone an entire renovation."
In "Burmah proper," that is, that part of Burmah not under British government, the native Christians enjoyed no toleration from the Government, and often suffered bitterly; but in Maulmain, and other places in British Burmah, religion flourished, and converts were multiplied. Mr. Vinton, (a new missionary,) preached with great power in the Karen churches, and that people, says Mrs. Judson, "flocked into the kingdom by scores." Mr. Judson was revising his translation of the Bible—a task of five years' duration,—and preaching to the Burmese church; while Mrs. J. instructed in the schools and translated into Peguansuch tracts as were thought most calculated to acquaint that people with Christian doctrine. She afterwards translated into that language the New Testament and the Life of Christ; but on the arrival of Mr. Haswell, she gave up to him all her books and papers in this language, and only attended to it in future so far as to assist him in his studies.
Of the severest trial to which Mrs. Judson was called during the remainder of her life she gives an account in the following eloquent words: "After deliberation, accompanied with tears, and agony and prayers, I came to the conviction that it was my duty to send away my only child, my darling George, and yesterday he bade me a long farewell.... Oh I shall never forget his looks, as he stood by the door, and gazed at me for the last time. His eyes were filling with tears, and his little face red with suppressed emotion. But he subdued his feelings, and it was not till he had turned away, and was going down the steps that he burst into a flood of tears. I hurried to my room; and on my knees, with my whole heart gave him up to God; and my bursting heart was comforted from above.... My reason and judgment tell me that the good of my child requires that he should be sent to America; and this of itself would support me in some little degree; but when I view it as asacrifice, made for the sake of Jesus, it becomes adelightful privilege.... I cannot but hope he will one day return to Burmah, a missionary of the cross, as his dear father was.... This is in some respects the severest trial I ever met with."
It would be delightful to accompany the dear boy in his perilous journey to the Father-land, and to transcribe the yearning and affectionate letters of his mother, both to him, and to those to whose charge he was entrusted—they could not but heighten our opinion of her excellence in the maternal relation, as well as of the great sensibility of her heart; but we are warned that our pages are swelling to too great a number. Ours is but a sketch, an outline; those who would see the full length portrait of our heroine, must consult the glowing canvass of her biographer and successor, "Fanny Forrester."
Her next trial was, to see her beloved husband suffering with a severe cough, which she feared would end in pulmonary consumption. To avert this dreaded result, he was obliged to leave her and try a long sea-voyage. The account of their parting, and her touching letters during his absence would greatly enrich our little sketch, had we room to copy them. Wemustfind a place for one short extract from the letters.
"Your little daughter and I have been praying for you this evening.... At times the sweet hope thatyou will soon return, restored to perfect health, buoys up my spirit, but perhaps you will find it necessary to go farther, a necessity from which I cannot but shrink with doubt and dread; or you may come back only to die with me. This last agonizing thought crushes me down in overwhelming sorrow. I hope I do not feel unwilling that our Heavenly Father should do as he thinks best with us; but my heart shrinks from the prospect of living in this dark, sinful, friendless world, without you.... But the most satisfactory view is to look away to that blissful world, where separations are unknown. There, my beloved Judson, we shallsurelymeet each other; and we shall also meet many loved ones who have gone before us to that haven of rest."
Her fears were not realized; in a few months Mr. Judson was restored to her and the suffering mission cause in greatly improved health.
The seventh year of her marriage with Mr. Judson, was a year of peculiar trial to Mrs. J. All her four children were attacked by whooping-cough followed by one of the diseases of the climate, with which she also was so violently afflicted that her life was for a time despaired of. She felt sure, as she afterwards said, that her hour of release was come, that her master was calling her; and she blessed God that she was entirely willing to leave all, and go to him. The only hope of recovery for any of them was a sea-voyage, and they embarked for Bengal, but their passage was stormy, and they derived little benefit from their stay at Serampore, where they had taken up their residence. A voyage to the Mauritius was recommended, and the alarming situation of three of the children, as well as Mrs. Judson's feeble state, determined them to try it. But before they embarked, it was her melancholy lot to lay one of her darlings inthe grave, and he, the very one about whose health she had felt the least uneasiness. He sleeps, says his mother, in the mission burial-ground, where moulders the dust of Carey, Marshman and Ward. Her tears at his burial flowed not only for him that was dead, but for another who she expected would soon follow him. To avert this calamity she hastened her voyage, which though fearfully tempestuous, proved beneficial to the sufferers, and after a short sojourn in the soft climate of the Isle of France, the family returned to their home in Maulmain, restored, with the exception of one son, to sound health. This son, who bore the name of his father, was called by the natives Pwen, which signifies "a flower," a name adopted by his parents. After a long illness he too was restored to health.
Mrs. Judson's labors during the latter part of her life, are recorded by her husband; and it may well excite the wonder of those women who consider the care of their own families a sufficient task, that she could find time and strength for such an amount of labor. It has been said that her translation of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress is a work worth living for. Her husband says, "It is one of the best pieces of composition we have published." She also translated a tract written by her husband; edited a "Chapel hymn book," and furnished for it twenty of its besthymns; and published four volumes of Scripture Questions for use in the Sabbath Schools. When we consider that she was the mother of a rapidly increasing family; and the head of an establishment, which like all in the East require constant and vigilant superintendence; and that she was exemplary in the discharge of her maternal and domestic duties, we are led to fancy she must have possessed some secret charm by which she could stay the hurrying feet of time; and "hold the fleet angel fast until he blessed her." Such a secret was her untiring zeal, which prompted an incessant industry. The sands of time are indeed numerous, and when each is valued as a sparkling treasure, they form a rich hoard, laid up where neither moth nor rust corrupt; but if we let them escape unheeded, or sit and idly watch their flow, and even shake the glass to hasten it, they will gather into a millstone weight to sink us in endless, unavailing regret. Though she is dead, Mrs. Judson's works still live; and generation after generation of Burmans will associate her name with that of her honored husband, as benefactors to their race.
In December, 1844, the health of Mrs. Judson began to decline. Her anxious husband, determined to leave no means untried, to save a life so precious to the mission and so invaluable to himself and his family, decided to quit for a while his loved labors in Burmahand accompany his wife to America. They in May 1845 sailed, and on reaching the Isle of France, she found herself so far restored that she could no longer conscientiously detain her husband from his duties in India, and she resolved to let him go back to their home there, while she with her children, should complete the journey that still seemed necessary for her entire restoration. One of the sweetest of her poems was occasioned by this resolution.
"We part on this green islet, Love,Thou for the Eastern main,I, for the setting sun, Love—Oh, when to meet again?My heart is sad for thee, Love,For lone thy way will be;And oft thy tears will fall, Love,For thy children and for me.The music of thy daughter's voiceThou'lt miss for many a year;And the merry shout of thine elder boysThou'lt list in vain to hear.When we knelt to see our Henry die,And heard his last faint moan,Each wiped the tear from other's eye—Now, each must weep alone.My tears fall fast for thee, Love,—How can I say farewell!But go;—thy God be with thee, Love,Thy heart's deep grief to quell!Yet my spirit clings to thine, Love,Thy soul remains with me,And oft we'll hold communion sweet,O'er the dark and distant sea.And who can paint our mutual joy,When, all our wanderings o'er,We both shall clasp our infants three,At home, on Burmah's shore.But higher shall our raptures glow,On yon celestial plain,When the loved and parted here belowMeet, ne'er to part again.Then gird thine armor on, Love,Nor faint thou by the way,Till Boodh shall fall, and Burmah's sonsShall own Messiah's sway."
"We part on this green islet, Love,Thou for the Eastern main,I, for the setting sun, Love—Oh, when to meet again?
My heart is sad for thee, Love,For lone thy way will be;And oft thy tears will fall, Love,For thy children and for me.
The music of thy daughter's voiceThou'lt miss for many a year;And the merry shout of thine elder boysThou'lt list in vain to hear.
When we knelt to see our Henry die,And heard his last faint moan,Each wiped the tear from other's eye—Now, each must weep alone.
My tears fall fast for thee, Love,—How can I say farewell!But go;—thy God be with thee, Love,Thy heart's deep grief to quell!
Yet my spirit clings to thine, Love,Thy soul remains with me,And oft we'll hold communion sweet,O'er the dark and distant sea.
And who can paint our mutual joy,When, all our wanderings o'er,We both shall clasp our infants three,At home, on Burmah's shore.
But higher shall our raptures glow,On yon celestial plain,When the loved and parted here belowMeet, ne'er to part again.
Then gird thine armor on, Love,Nor faint thou by the way,Till Boodh shall fall, and Burmah's sonsShall own Messiah's sway."
But her health still sinking, her husband could not leave her, and she was borne back to the ship. Her life ebbed away so rapidly, that he feared he must consign her to an ocean grave. But a kind Providence ordered it, that her death did not occur till the ship anchored at St. Helena. Her end was as peaceful as her life had been consistent and exemplary.
"No shade of doubt or fear, or anxiety crossed her mind." So writes her husband: "She had a prevailing preference to depart and be with Christ. I am longing to depart! she would say; and then the thought of her dear native land, to which she was approaching after an absence of twenty years, and a longing desireto see her son George, her parents, and the friends of her youth, would draw down her ascending soul, and constrain her to say, 'I am in a strait betwixt two; the will of the Lord be done.'
"In regard to her children she ever manifested the most surprising composure and resignation, so much so that I was once constrained to say, you seem to have forgotten the dear little ones we have left behind. 'Can a mother forget'—she replied, and was unable to proceed. During her last days she spent much time in praying for the early conversion of her children.
"On the evening of the 31st of August, ... I sat alone by the side of her bed, endeavoring to administer relief to the distressed body, and consolation to the departing soul. At two o'clock in the morning, wishing to obtain one more token of recognition, I roused her attention and said, 'Do you still love the Saviour?' 'O yes,' she replied, 'I ever love the Lord Jesus Christ.' I said again, 'Do you still love me?' She replied in the affirmative, by a peculiar expression of her own. 'Then give me one more kiss;' and we exchanged that token of love for the last time. Another hour passed,—and she ceased to breathe."
"So fades the summer cloud away;So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;So gently shuts the eye of day;So dies the wave along the shore."
"So fades the summer cloud away;So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;So gently shuts the eye of day;So dies the wave along the shore."
Arrangements were made to carry the body on shore. The Rev. Mr. Bertram from the Island came on board, and was led into the state-room where lay all that was mortal of Mrs. Judson. "Pleasant," he says, "she was even in death. A sweet smile of love beamed on her countenance, as if heavenly grace had stamped it there. The bereaved husband and three weeping children fastened their eyes upon the loved remains, as if they could have looked forever."
The coffin was borne to the shore; the boats forming a kind of procession, their oars beating the waves at measured intervals, as a sort of funeral knell—The earth received her dust, and her bereaved husband continued his sad voyage towards his native land, again a widowed mourner.