America
has taken a prominent place in modern missionary effort. For a century
and a half she had been engaged in desultory efforts for the heathen
on her own continent, and men like Elliott and Brainerd had done
a noble work for the perishing [Native American] Indians. But the
beginning of this century witnessed a grand outburst of missionary
spirit beyond the Atlantic, and this spirit soon carried its messengers
east and west across the waters to the shores of the Old World, where
now they are to be found rivaling both in numbers and in zeal their
elder European brethren. Burmah, India, China, Africa, and the Isles
of the Pacific bear witness to their labours; the Turkish Empire
stands pre-eminently indebted to their efforts; and Lord Stratford
de Redcliffe has borne such a testimony to what he saw and knew
of American missionaries in Syria, Armenia, and Kurdistan, as proves
their title to a distinguished place amongst the warriors of the
cross.
Adoniram Judson (born in 1788, in the home of a Congregationalist
minister in Massachusetts, [United States]), as he was amongst the
first of his countrymen to feel this new impulse, so was he confessedly
the foremost in imparting it to others. The mission to Burmah, which
was the first outcome of this awakened zeal, and in some respects
the greatest and noblest field of its victories, must always be identified
with him and with those three illustrious women who were successively
his wives, and whose names and labours must for ever be inseparably
linked with his. In reading the eventful story of the Judsons, so
full of peril and of patience, so marked by suffering and success,
we seem as if we had alighted upon some grand romance; but we rise
from its perusal with a deep conviction of its stern reality, and
with a growing admiration of the Christian heroism which it displays.
Judson, as it has been well said, was "a missionary of the apostolic
school." Like others who have led the van in the assaults of
the Gospel upon paganism, he was a man pre-eminently endowed both
by nature and by grace for the great work in which Providence employed
him. We shall find, as a rule, that it is not the intellectually
halt and feeble who have been called to "jeopard their lives
unto the death in the high places of the field," and that the
men who have gained this high distinction have moreover been baptized
in a remarkable degree "with the Holy Ghost and with power." Such
was Judson. The early precocity of his genius may be gathered from
the fact that at three years of age he could read; that before he
was ten he had gained a reputation for solving difficult arithmetical
problems; and that when he entered college at sixteen, he obtained
the highest place. Bright, intellectual, and enthusiastic, he was
moreover extravagantly ambitious. His father had said one day that "he
would be a great man," and a great man he resolved to be.
He dreamt of being a statesman, an orator, a poet, and he built his
castles in the air accordingly; but he was far nearer the truth when,
at four years of age, he used to collect the village children around
him, and mounted upon a chair, would preach to them a simple gospel
with singular earnestness. His father and mother remembered in after
years that the favourite hymn with which he prefaced these infant
exercises was one beginning with the prophetic words—
"Go preach my Gospel, saith the Lord."
Brought up in a pious home, he had been visited by serious thoughts;
but religion seemed to stand in the way of his ambition, and the
wave of French infidelity reached him through the influence of a
brilliant but skeptical fellow-student. Judson's thoughts and plans
became consequently unsettled. Now we find him teaching a school
at Plymouth, now attaching himself to a dramatic company, now touring
in search of excitement through the Northern States. It was during
this tour that God rescued him from infidelity and sin. He had reached
a country inn, and the landlord apologized for putting him to sleep
in the next room to that of a young man who was dying, but he had
none other to offer him. Sad sounds came from that sick chamber through
the midnight hours, and they stirred up solemn thoughts and anxious
inquiries in Judson's breast. He made the case of that young man
his own, and as he did so he felt the shallowness of his own newly-adopted
philosophy and its insufficiency to sustain him in the hour of death.
The morning dawned, and he inquired about the sufferer. "He
is dead." He asked his name, and was stunned at finding that
it was that of his friend — shall we not rather say of his
tempter? That morning he turned his horse's head towards home; God
had begun a work in his heart, which resulted in true conversion.
Soon we find him in the calm retirement of the Theological School
at Andover, patiently inquiring into the truth of God, and ultimately
yielding himself to Christ with a fulness of conviction and satisfaction,
which never afterwards during his life was harassed by a single doubt.
Two years had scarcely passed by since that memorable night at the
wayside inn. His father was now a pastor at Plymouth and had conceived
plans for his son's preferment. The minister of the largest church
at Boston was willing to take young Judson as a colleague, and the
parents, delighted at the prospect, complacently apprised him of
the good news. "You will be so near home," said the mother.
But Judson did not speak. His sister chimed in with her congratulations;
and then the young man found a tongue, and earnestly replied, "No,
sister, I shall never live in Boston; I have much farther to go." Two
years before he had startled them by the announcement of his infidel
opinions; they were scarcely less startled now, though in a strangely
different way, by hearing his firm resolve to be a missionary to
the heathen.
How had it come about? He had met with Buchanan's "Star in the
East," and this had awakened the missionary spirit. He had read
Syme's "Embassy to Ava," and this had turned his whole
soul towards Burmah and its benighted Buddhists. The leaven of missionary
enterprise had begun to work in the Andover seminary. Three young
men — their names deserve to be recorded — Mills, Richards,
and Rice — had formed themselves into a missionary society
in the college, with the object of training themselves for work amongst
the heathen. Judson joined them, and soon became the leading spirit
of the devoted band. Some one asked him in later life, during a visit
to America, whether he had been more influenced by faith or love in
going to Burmah. He paused a moment, and then replied, "There
was in me at that time little of either; but in thinking
of what did influence me, I remember a time out in the woods
behind Andover seminary, when I was almost disheartened. Everything
looked dark. No one had gone out from this country. The way was not
open. The field was far distant, and in an unhealthy climate. I knew
not what to do. All at once Christ's 'last command' seemed to come
to my heart directly from heaven. I could doubt no longer, but, determined
on the spot to obey it at all hazards, for the sake of pleasing
the Lord Jesus Christ." And then he added these memorable
words, "If the Lord wants you for missionaries, He will send
that word home to your hearts. If He does so, you neglect it
at your peril!"
Out of that little group of students, as from a fruitful germ, grew
up "The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions," and
Judson was their earliest and noblest agent. But first he was sent
to England (in 1811) to confer with the London Missionary Society,
and on the way was captured by a French privateer, and confined with
other prisoners in the hold. Here, as he was translating from his
Hebrew Bible into Latin, the doctor discovered him, and contrived
his release from this part of the vessel. Landed at Bayonne, he was
marched as a prisoner through the streets, and attracted the attention
of a fellow-countryman by exclaiming against the injustice of detaining
an American. This kindly citizen visited the dungeon to which Judson
had been consigned and managed to pass the prisoner out under the
capacious folds of his own great cloak. Eventually Judson made his
way to England, where he was kindly received, and whence he was promised
help; but this foreign aid was not needed, for the American Board
of Missions had already attracted large support, and Judson soon
re-crossed the Atlantic, and was set apart for his grand enterprise.
He was to go to some Asiatic field — in India or Burmah, according
as God's providence should point the way. On the 5th February, 1812,
he married the beautiful Ann Hasseltine; twelve days later he embarked
with her for Calcutta, and on the 17th of June they reached their
destination.
And here began the link with Serampore and the strange events which
led to the formation of the Burmese mission. Carey and his fellow-labourers
invited them to stay at the mission-house; and as Judson's views
on baptism had undergone a change during the voyage out, he severed
his connection with the American Board, and resolved to cast in his
lot with the Baptist missionaries. But the East India Company, hostile
to their work, and alarmed at this new influx of missionary labourers,
issued a peremptory order that they should return to their own country.
It so happened that a Mr. Chater and Felix Carey (a son of the famous
Serampore missionary) had gone a short time previously to Rangoon,
to pioneer a way for missions in the empire of "the Golden Sovereign
of land and water." It was decided to send the new-comers thither;
but even this could be effected only by stratagem. They were smuggled
on board a vessel for the Mauritius, but were detected, and forced
to disembark; they contrived to get on board again, and on reaching
St. Louis found that they must visit Madras as the only way of reaching
Burmah. Here they narrowly escaped from another order of the Company,
and eventually in a crazy vessel reached Rangoon in July 1813, half
dead with sickness and discomfort.
It was a disheartening and a gloomy prospect that lay before them.
There was at this time no provision made for their support. They
were in a land of slaves ruled over by a despotic tyrant, and by
rapacious viceroys, who were well called "the eaters of the
provinces." Brutal murders and audacious robberies were of continual
occurrence. The mission-house was close to the spot where public
executions were constantly taking place. All around rose the gilded
pagodas where the great Gaudama, as an incarnation of Buddha, was
adored. In every street were seen the lamasaries, or homes of the
priests, who were reckoned to be one in every thirty of the population,
and who taught the cheerless creed of "Nirwana," or annihilation.
Very few had so much as heard the name of Jesus, and it was death,
according to the law, to renounce the faith of Buddha, which, alas!
is still the dreary creed of three hundred millions of the earth's
inhabitants. No marvel then that Judson and his wife should record
that their first day in Burmah was "the most gloomy and distressing" that,
ever they had passed.
But the devoted pair set to work at once, applying themselves to
the acquisition of the spoken tongue and of Pali, which is, so to
speak, the sacred text of Ava. Like all true Protestant missionaries,
Judson felt that if he was to reach their hearts, he must not only
speak their language, but that he must also give the people the Word
of God in their own tongue. The Burmans are a reading people, and
this was an additional reason for, and a fresh stimulus to, his work.
So well did he succeed, that a Burmese governor, who received one
of his translations four years after his arrival, could scarcely
believe that it was the work of a foreigner. But we cannot dwell
on this portion of his work. We may, however, mention here that in
1834, after twenty years of patient toil, he completed his translation
of the whole Bible; and when the last page passed through his hands,
he knelt down and prayed "for the forgiveness of Heaven on all
the sins that had mingled with his labours, and commended his work
to the mercy and grace of God, to be used as an instrument for converting
the heathen to Himself."
There was then no grammar nor dictionary of the language, and this
made his task one of extreme difficulty; but before he died he rendered
the work of his successors comparatively light by compiling a grammar,
and nearly completing a dictionary of the Burmese tongue. They remain
to this day as monuments of his industry and talent, and have not
yet been superseded. Nor was this all: he imported a printing press
from Serampore, and a printer from America (where the Baptists had
adopted his mission), and he published "A Summary of Christian
Doctrine," and many valuable tracts, the circulation of which
was greatly blessed.
Four years having been spent in preliminary study, Judson went to
Chittagong to try and find amongst the native Christians some one
who knew the Burmese tongue and could assist him in his work. There
he was unexpectedly detained for seven months; but his brave wife
remained at her post, with other missionaries who had arrived at
Rangoon, gathering the native women around her, and teaching them
the story of redeeming love. When persecution broke out, she not
only prevented the abandonment of the mission by her firmness and
decision, but she went in person to the authorities, and by her tact
and address obtained a repeal of their harsh enactments. When cholera
raged, and the rest of the party resolved to leave for Bengal in
the last remaining vessel, she braced her mind to the occasion, returned
to the mission house, pursued her studies as formerly, and "left
events with God."
On his return Mr. Judson began what he felt to be the great purpose
of his life — his evangelistic work. Under the shadow of the
grand pagoda, and in a crowded thorough-fare, he built a humble zayat,
or hall of public resort. Its walls were made of bamboo, and it was
covered in with thatch. One room was open to the street, and there
he sat all day to receive those whom interest or curiosity induced
to listen to his message. Another room was fitted up for public worship,
and a third was devoted to classes for the women, and opened on the
garden of the mission-house. Quietly and slowly, but steadily and
surely, the work went on. Inquirers, opponents, cavillers, found
their way to that humble shed. He soon discovered that the philosophies
and speculations of Europe had been anticipated in the East; that
Idealism and Nihilism had been discussed by Brahmins and Buddhists
centuries before the days of Berkeley and Hume; and that amongst
the professors of the national creed there existed a large proportion
of semi-atheists and metaphysical skeptics. With these he reasoned,
dealing now with their common sense, and now with their consciences,
pressing home on each the need man has of a Saviour and a Sanctifier,
and showing how God has provided these in His glorious Gospel. At
length one convert declared himself on the side of Christ, and Moung
Nau was baptized as the first fruits of Burmah unto the Lord. Two
others followed; but persecution threatened, and so on a November
evening, when the sun had gone down, they made their humble, timid
profession. "Perhaps," said the missionary, "if we
deny Him not, He will acknowledge us, another day, more publicly
than we venture at present to acknowledge Him." It was some
comfort to him to find that on the next Lord's-day after the services
were over, "the three converts repaired to the zayat, and held
a prayer-meeting of their own accord."
By this time the number of inquirers began to excite the alarm of
the Buddhist priests. A new and by no means friendly viceroy had
replaced Mya-day-men, who had shown the Judsons no little kindness.
He observed the zayat, and it was soon perceived that it was here
the converts had learned "to forsake the religion of the country." Moreover
the old emperor had died, and his successor, who was supposed to
be a zealous Buddhist, had initiated his reign by gilding the great
pagoda, which contained the sacred hairs of Gaudama, and by passing
sundry enactments in favour of the popular religion. The growing
fear of persecution checked inquiry, and the work was likely to cease.
Under these circumstances Judson thought it well to secure, if possible,
the royal protection, or, at all events, some measure of toleration,
and so he resolved to go to Ava, and to wait upon the emperor. Accordingly,
he and Mr. Colman, a brother missionary, set out for the capital,
with some valuable presents for members of the court, and a Bible
in six volumes, covered with gold-leaf, to lay before the "golden
feet." His old friend, Mya-day-men, undertook to present them,
and every forehead was laid in the dust as the modern Ahasuerus,
with royal gait, and with gold-sheathed sword in hand, gave audience
in the splendid palace. After he had asked several questions, and
heard the Prime Minister read the petition, he held out his hand
for the tract, which contained a brief summary of the Christian faith.
As he silently read the opening sentences, the hearts of the missionaries
sent up a secret prayer to God— " Have mercy on Burmah!
have mercy on her king!" But he dashed the paper to the ground
with palpable disdain. An attempt to conciliate him was made by unfolding
and displaying one of the attractive volumes; but the "Sovereign
of land and sea" took no notice. The Prime Minister interpreted
his master's will:— "In regard to the objects of your
petition, His Majesty gives no order; in regard to your sacred books,
His Majesty has no use for them: take them away."
With a heavy heart they returned home... The missionaries now resolved
to leave Burmah for a while, with their three converts, and to go
to a region between Bengal and Arracan, where a kindred tongue was
spoken. This resolution produced dismay amongst the little group
of inquirers at Rangoon. "Do stay with us," they said, "till
there are ten disciples, and then appoint one to be the teacher of
the rest when you are gone." The appeal was irresistible, and
fervent prayer followed it. It reminds us of Abraham's intercession
for Sodom; but in this case "the ten" were found. Before
five months had passed, Judson was able to take his wife, whose health
was seriously impaired, to Calcutta, and to leave the infant church
to the native care of Moung Shwa-gnong. But within six months they
returned to their little flock, and found their converts, notwithstanding
much persecution, true to their profession, and glad beyond measure
to welcome them. It was a cheering thing, moreover, to see their
old friend, the kindly viceroy, just reinstated in office. The enemies
of the Gospel had gone to him with an accusation against the native
teacher — "He has turned the priests' rice-pot bottom
upwards." "What matter!" said the viceroy; "let
the priests turn it back again."
The work went on; disciples began to increase; schools were opened,
and two remarkable men, Moung Shwa-ba and Moung Ing, of whom we shall
hear again, were added to the Church; so that although "Mama
Judson," as the natives loved to call her, was suffering severely
from liver complaint, and had to go for two years to America as
her last chance of life, her noble husband resolved to remain at
his post. He was almost the only person on earth who had such a knowledge
of their language as to be of use to the pagans of Burmah. And so
with sorrowful hearts the husband and wife parted.
Dr. Price, a medical missionary, now joined the mission. His fame
reached "the golden ears," and he was summoned to Ava.
Judson accompanied him as interpreter. The reception on this occasion
was more favourable than the last; but the "golden mouth" put
some alarming questions to Judson: "And you in black, are you
a medical man too?" "Not a medical man, but a teacher of
religion, your Majesty." "Have any of the Burmese embraced
it?" Judson diplomatically replied, "Not here." "But
are there any in Rangoon?" demanded the emperor. "There
are a few." "Are they foreigners?" persisted the despotic
king. Judson trembled for the consequences; but the truth must be
told at all hazards. "Some foreigners and some Burmese," he
replied. There was an awful silence; but He who is mightier than
the kings of the earth restrained man's wrath, and before Judson
left the capital he had preached to both king and courtiers, and
received an invitation to return and reside at Ava.
Mrs. Judson came back from America in December 1823, with additional
missionary helpers, and within seven days of her arrival at Rangoon
she and her husband were sailing up the Irrawady, on their way to
Ava. The natives, who had never seen a white woman before, flocked
in crowds to witness the wondrous sight, and soon the happy missionary
and his devoted wife were installed in the premises assigned them
by the king. Their work in the capital had begun under the most favourable
circumstances; he was engaged in preaching, and she in conducting
her school, when intelligence arrived of hostilities with the British,
followed by the news that Rangoon had been captured! The few Englishmen
in Ava were immediately imprisoned, and orders were issued for the
arrest of the foreign teachers. Judson was suddenly seized, in his
wife's presence, by an armed band, who threw him on the floor, tied
his arms behind his back, and hurried him to prison. She barred herself
with her four Burmese girls into an inner room, to escape the savagery
of the infuriated guards. In the morning she contrived to send the
faithful Moung Ing to make inquiries, and he brought back word that
Judson and Price and the English merchants were in the death-prison,
with three pairs of iron fetters on each, and all fastened to a long
pole to prevent their moving.
We cannot enter into the particulars of that two years' terrible
captivity, or of the heroic efforts made by Ann Judson to assuage
the sufferings of her husband and his fellow-prisoners. But it is
not too much to say that it was owing to her tact and intercessions
that they were not murdered. It is a record on the one side of the
noblest patience, and on the other of the most devoted love. During
part of the time, and that too the hottest season of the year, Judson
was shut up with some hundred Burmese robbers in a cell that had
no window, and they were so jammed together that he could not find
room to stretch himself. It was a rare luxury when he obtained the
reversion of a lion's cage, after the poor animal had been starved
to death, because it was supposed to be mysteriously connected with
English power. The head-jailer, himself a branded murderer, was an
incarnation of cruelty and mocking jocularity. After a time Mrs.
Judson contrived, partly by presents and partly by appeals, to have
the rigour of his bondage somewhat relaxed, and she kept up secret
communications with him by writing on flat cakes which were concealed
in bowls of rice, and by stuffing scraps of paper into the mouth
of an old coffee-pot. Only once during his long captivity did his
brave spirit give way. His wife had contrived a surprise that might
remind him of home by concocting something like a mince pie with
buffalo beef and plantains. He had borne taunts and insults without
shrinking; he had endured fever and ague without dismay; he had seen
some of his European fellow-prisoners die from extremity of hardship,
and he had not quailed; he had kissed his new-born baby in his wife's
frail arms, through the iron bars of his cell, and he had done so
without a sigh; but when he looked upon this touching remembrance,
of a happy home and of wifely tenderness, he bowed his head upon
his knees, and the tears flowed down to the chains that clanked about
his ankles, and the dainty viand remained untouched.
Mrs. Judson had managed to secrete the manuscripts of his translations
in the earth beneath the mission-house; but the rainy season came
on, and they were likely to be ruined with the damp. In his dungeon
he was anxious about them, and he arranged with her to sew them up
in a pillow, so mean in its appearance, and so comfortless withal,
that the covetousness of even a Burman jailer should not be excited
by it. The little sleep he enjoyed was all the sweeter because his
aching head, as well as his anxious heart, was pillowed on the Word
of God. When he was sent to another prison-house at Oung-pen-la,
which he reached with lacerated and bleeding feet, the ruffian jailers
seized for themselves the mat which covered the precious pillow,
and threw the apparently useless article away. Moung Ing found the
relic, carried it to the mission-house; and by its aid Burmah afterwards
obtained the Bible in her native tongue.
When the English advanced upon the capital, Judson was employed by
the Burmese as an interpreter, and sent to the camp to mediate. He
discharged the difficult duty so admirably, that he was afterwards
thanked by the Governor-General. Sir Archibald Campbell insisted,
amongst other terms, upon the release of the Judsons, and they were
soon under the protection of the British flag and on their way to
their old station at Rangoon. But most of the converts were scattered,
and there was no security for life under Burmese rule; so it was
determined to carry the old zayat into the territory recently
ceded to the British, and to set up a new mission at Amherst, and
subsequently at Moulmein. Here they recommenced their blessed work,
and not without success; but Judson having gone again to Ava in the
vain endeavour to obtain religious toleration, returned only to find
that his noble wife had died of fever in his absence, and that he
was soon to lay his motherless child beside her, under the hopia
(or hope tree), which seemed such a blessed emblem of their rest
and resurrection.
Judson was never the same man after that. He had not indeed lost
his holy resolution, but he had lost his cheerful elasticity. For
a time he indulged in an ascetic spirit, and would live for days
alone amongst the woods, in fasting and prayer, and seeing only those
who came to him for religious instruction. But he came forth from
this period of seclusion with a new baptism of energy and devotedness.
He gave up all his patrimony to the cause of missions, and set out
once more to assail the strongholds of Satan in the old Burman empire,
and especially at Prome, its ancient capital. He was led to take
an especial interest in the Karens, an interesting and patriarchal
race, who were treated as slaves by the Burmese, but were infinitely
their superiors in all the better traits of human character. They
had no priesthood, and scarcely any form of religion, but possessed
strangely truth-like traditions of Paradise, and the Fall, and the
Deluge, and a coming Deliverer. It was this mission which led him
to know and marry his second wife, Sarah Boardman, who had shared
her first husband's labours amongst this people while he lived, and
was now devoting herself to their best interests after his death.
By the year 1836 there were as many as 248 Karen communicants, and
the success went on until the converts were reckoned by thousands,
and one of the missionaries could say, "Heathenism has fled
from these banks; I eat the rice and fruits cultivated by Christian
hands, look on the fields of Christians, see no dwellings but those
of Christian families."
Eleven years more passed by and several children were born, but
the health of Sarah Judson was shattered by constant toil, and she
was ordered, as a last resource, to try a voyage to America. Her
husband went with her, intending to see her as far as the Mauritius;
but when they reached it, finding that she was fading away, he went
on with her to St. Helena, and there she breathed her last on the
1st September, 1845. She had written a beautiful "Farewell," which
she meant to give him at parting. It began—
"We part on this green islet, love;
Thou for the Eastern main,
I for the setting sun, love;
Oh! when to meet again?
and it ended with these invigorating words—
"Then gird thine armour on, love,
Nor faint thou by the way,
Till Boodh shall fall, and Burmah's sons
Shall own Messiah's sway."
Judson found the lines after she had "gone home," and when
he copied them, he wrote after the last verse these words— "'Gird
thine armour on' —And so, God willing, I will yet endeavour
to do; and while her prostrate form finds repose on the rock of the
ocean, and her sanctified spirit enjoys sweeter repose on the bosom
of JESUS, let me continue to toil on all my appointed time, until
my change, too, shall come."
Judson proceeded to America, but what a change he found since he
had left it thirty-four years before! Scarcely one whom he had known
was alive to welcome him; but the old apathy about missions had given
way to a generous enthusiasm, and he felt pained by the excessive
and universal homage that was paid to him. The universities had made
him a Doctor by diploma; statesmen and philosophers crowded round
him to pay their respects. He was a great man indeed, but the early
ambition of his youth was quenched in the deep humility of an aged
servant of the Lord. He remained but nine months in the States, and
then returned to his work. He had been anxious to find a suitable
biographer to write a memoir of his late wife, and was recommended
to a lady who had gained no small literary fame under her nom
de plume of Fanny Forrester. Emily Chubbuck was vivacious as
well as talented, and many wondered when they heard that she was
to be Dr. Judson's wife; but she made a noble partner for the missionary,
and a loving mother to his children. She enriched our literature
with one of the most exquisite biographies in the language, and gathered
the materials which give us such an insight into the grandeur of
her husband's life. Each of Judson's partners had distinctive talents;
Ann was a linguist, Sarah a poetess, Emily an authoress. The first
had in her most of the heroine, the second most of the missionary,
and the third most of the savant. As wives, they were all worthy
of such a husband; and he was worthy of them.
The last three years of Judson's glorious life were spent at Moulmein
and Rangoon, amidst alternate difficulties and encouragements. An
affection of his voice now prevented him from doing much in the way
of preaching, but there was the less need of this as the mission
was supplied with other labourers; still he superintended the work,
and cheered the workers, and laboured hard himself at his Burmese
Dictionary. He had completed the first section of it (the English-Burmese),
when weakness, followed by fever, utterly prostrated him, and the
physicians prescribed a voyage to the Isle of France. His devoted
wife was not in a condition to go with him, but the mission printer
and a faithful Bengali servant went in her stead. Four months afterwards
she learned the sad news that within a fortnight after she had parted
from him he was laid in an ocean grave (12th April, 1850). "He
could not," wrote his widow, "have a more fitting monument
than the blue waves which visit every coast; for his warm sympathies
went forth to the ends of the earth, and included the whole family
of man." He was brave, faithful, patient, hopeful to the end.
His last words were uttered in his dear Burman tongue: "It is
done." "I am going."
"Servant of God, well done!
Rest from thy lov'd employ;
The battle fought, the vict'ry won,
Enter thy Master's joy.
"The pains of death are past;
Labour and sorrow cease;
And life's long warfare clos'd at last,
His soul is found in peace.
"Soldier of Christ, well done!
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run
Rest in thy Saviour's joy!"
Copied by Stephen Ross for WholesomeWords.org from Modern
Heroes of the Mission Field by W. Pakenham Walsh. New York:
Fleming H. Revell, [n.d.]
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