but soon found that he had not stayed away so long from choice, having
  been ill with a fever for some time, and occupied also with the
  illness of his family and adherents. He gradually wore away my
  reserve; and we had not been together two hours, before I felt more
  satisfied than ever, from his account of his mental trials, his
  struggles with sin, his strivings to be holy, his penitence, his
  faith, his exercises in secret prayer, that he is a subject of the
  special operations of the Holy Spirit, that he is indeed a true
  disciple. He stayed all day. In the afternoon the five Nan-dau-gong
  visitors, the doctor Oo Yan, and several others came together, and we
  had much interesting conversation. Toward the close, Moung Shwa-gnong,
  as if to bring things to a crisis, addressed me thus: ‘My lord
  teacher, there are now several of us present who have long considered
  this religion. I hope that we are all believers in Jesus Christ.’ ‘I
  am afraid,’ replied I, ‘to say that; however, it is easily
  ascertained; and let me begin with you, teacher. I have heretofore
  thought that you fully believed in the eternal God; but I have had
  some doubt whether you fully believed in the Son of God, and the
  atonement which He has made.’ ‘I assure you,’ he replied, ‘that I am
  as fully persuaded of the latter as of the former.’ ‘Do you believe,
  then,’ I continued, ‘that none but the disciples of Christ will be
  saved from sin and hell?’ ‘None but His disciples.’ ‘How, then, can
  you remain without taking the oath of allegiance to Jesus Christ, and
  becoming His full disciple in body and soul?’ ‘It is my earnest desire
  to do so, by receiving baptism; and for the very purpose of expressing
  that desire, I have come here today.’ ‘You say you are desirous of
  receiving baptism: may I ask _when_ you desire to receive it?’ ‘At any
  time you will please to give it. Now—this moment, if you please.’ ‘Do
  you wish to receive baptism in public or in private?’ ‘I will receive
  it at any time, and in any circumstances, that you please to direct.’
  I then said, ‘Teacher, I am satisfied from your conversation this
  forenoon, that you are a true disciple, and I reply, therefore, that I
  am as desirous of giving you baptism as you are of receiving it.’ This
  conversation had a great effect on all present. The disciples
  rejoiced; the rest were astonished; for though they have long thought
  that he believed the Christian religion, they could not think that
  such a man could easily be brought to profess it, and suffer himself
  to be put under the water by a foreigner. I then turned to Moung
  Thah-a, one of the Nan-dau-gong people, who, I hope, is a true
  believer. ‘Are you willing to take the oath of allegiance to Jesus
  Christ?’ ‘If the teacher Moung Shwa-gnong consents,’ said he, ‘why
  should I hesitate?’ ‘And if he does not consent, what then?’ ‘I must
  wait a little longer.’ ‘Stand by,’ said I; ‘you trust in Moung
  Shwa-gnong, rather than in Jesus Christ. You are not worthy of being
  baptized.’ Moung Myat-lah, on being similarly interrogated, wished to
  consider a little longer. Oo Yan was still further from committing
  himself. Of the women present, I interrogated Mah Men-la only. She had
  evidently a considerable struggle in her mind, probably on account of
  her husband’s having just declined. At length she said that, if I
  thought it suitable for her to be baptized, she was desirous of
  receiving the ordinance. I told her that her reply was not
  satisfactory. I could not consent to baptize any one who could
  possibly remain easy without being baptized, and then I related the
  story of the last two disciples; after which the party broke up.

  “In the evening, I laid the case of Moung Shwa-gnong before the
  church, and we joyfully agreed to receive him to communion, on his
  being baptized.

  “_July 18._ In the morning, the teacher again made his appearance. I
  again asked him whether he preferred being baptized in the day or in
  the evening, and he again left it to my decision; on which I advised
  him to wait till night. He appeared very well through the day, his
  deportment solemn, his conversation spiritual. Just at night, I called
  in two or three of the disciples, read the account of the baptism of
  the eunuch, made the baptismal prayer, and then proceeded with the
  teacher to the accustomed place, went down into the water, and
  baptized him.

  “On my return, I found that Mah Men-la, whom I had left with Mrs.
  Judson, had gone away. As soon as she saw that the teacher had
  actually gone to be baptized, she exclaimed, ‘Ah, he has now gone to
  obey the command of Jesus Christ, while I remain without obeying. I
  shall not be able to sleep this night. I must go home, and consult my
  husband, and return.’ In the evening, we again partook of the Lord’s
  supper, in consequence of the admission of the teacher, and my
  expected departure on the morrow. We had just finished, when, about
  nine o’clock, Mah Men-la returned, accompanied by the two other women
  from her village. She immediately requested to be baptized. The
  disciples present assented without hesitation. I told her that I
  rejoiced to baptize her, having been long satisfied that she had
  received the grace of Christ; and, it being very late, I led her out
  to the pond near the house by lantern light, and thus baptized the
  tenth Burman convert, and the first woman. Mah Men-la is fifty-one
  years old, of most extensive acquaintance through the place, of much
  strength of mind, decision of character, and consequent influence over
  others. She is, indeed, among women what Moung Shwa-gnong is among
  men.

  “On returning to the house, she said, ‘Now I have taken the oath of
  allegiance to Jesus Christ, and I have nothing to do but to commit
  myself, soul and body, into the hands of my Lord, assured that He will
  never suffer me to fall away.’ Several visitors spent the night at the
  mission-house.

  “_July 19._ In the morning, we all met for worship. After I had
  prayed, Moung Thah-lah and Moung Shwa-ba both prayed, with much
  propriety and feeling. In the course of the forenoon, Mah Men-la’s
  husband, and Moung Thah-a, and the doctor, and several others, came
  in, so that we had quite a houseful. At noon, we set out for the
  river, followed by near a hundred people, the women crying aloud in
  the Burman manner, and almost all deeply affected. When we entered the
  boat, I called the teacher and Mah Men-la and a few others to go with
  us to the ship, which lay at some distance in the river. The rest
  remained on the wharf, bidding us farewell, telling us to come back
  soon, etc. Thus we left the shores of Rangoon. Those who accompanied
  us to the ship stayed an hour or two and returned. We stood as long on
  the quarter-deck looking at them as the others had stood on the wharf
  looking at us.[27]

  “_July 20._ The ship having been unable to move yesterday, on account
  of the anchor’s being foul, the teacher, Moung Shwa-gnong, espied the
  masts from his village, and came off in a boat, with his wife and
  another woman. Soon after, most of the Nan-dau-gong people came to the
  mission-house, and, finding that the ship had not dropped down, came
  off, accompanied by several of our own people. We were much gratified
  by this fresh proof of their attachment; but the ship got under weigh
  immediately, and they were obliged to leave us for the last time.”

The following letter sent by these newly-made converts to their brethren
in America, shows of what stuff this first Burman church was made:

  “Brethren all, who live in America! The brethren who live in Burmah
  address you.

  “We inform you, brethren, that, trusting in the grace of the eternal
  God, the divine Spirit, and the excellent Son, the Lord Jesus Christ,
  we remain happy; and seeing our real state and circumstances, we have
  repentance of soul, and an anticipation of the happiness of heaven.

  “God, the sum of all perfection, without beginning and without end,
  subsists through successive ages; and this world, the earth and sky,
  and all things therein, which He has created, are according as He
  created them.

  “God, the Creator, is replete with goodness and purity, and is exempt
  from old age, sickness, death, and annihilation; and thus there is
  none that can compare with Him.

  “It is contained in the Scriptures, that God, in His own nature,
  unites three, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and is [yet]
  mysteriously one God; that He is in all places, but dwells in heaven,
  by the clearer manifestation of His glory; that His power and wisdom
  are unrivalled; and that He enjoys happiness incomprehensible to
  creatures.

  “But the Burmans know not the true God; they know not the true
  religion; they worship a false god; they practice a false religion;
  and [thus] they transgress the divine law, and sin against the most
  estimable Benefactor, and therefore they neither expiate their sins
  nor acquire merit. And by excessively loving themselves and the filth
  of this world, they love not nor worship the eternal God, nor believe
  in the Lord Jesus Christ, but regard the good things of this world
  merely.

  “That the Burmans, who know not the way to eternal happiness, might
  become acquainted with it; that they might be renewed; and that they
  might escape everlasting punishment, the American teacher Judson and
  wife have both come to Burmah and proclaimed the Gospel of the divine
  Son, the Lord Jesus Christ; on which some Burmans have become
  disciples. And on these accounts, the disciple Moung Shwa-ba says that
  your favor is very great [or he gives you very many thanks].

  “Those who love divine grace, who believe, who hear and consider the
  Gospel, who trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, who repent of their sins,
  attain the state of disciples. And that this religion may spread
  everywhere, Moung Shwa-ba is making endeavors, and constantly praying,
  to proclaim the Gospel. And he prays thus: O eternal God, graciously
  grant the favor which I desire. Graciously grant that I may have
  regard to Thy divine will, and be conformed thereto. Be pleased to
  take notice of my supplications, O God. I desire not to seek my own
  profit; I desire constantly to seek the profit of others. Thou art the
  Creator of all things, and if Thou art pleased to be gracious, O,
  grant that I may be enabled to promote the good of others. Open Thou
  the eyes of my mind and give me light. And when I shall preach in
  various places, evermore send forth the divine Spirit that multitudes
  may become disciples. That Thou wilt grant these things, I beseech
  Thee, O God.

  “The disciple Moung Shwa-ba has composed this writing, and committed
  it to the hand of the teacher; [even] in the Burman year 1182, on the
  7th of the waxing of the moon Wah-goung, he has written this, and
  delivered it to the teacher and his wife.

  “P.S. Brethren, there are in the country of Burmah nine persons who
  have become disciples.”

Mr. and Mrs. Judson embarked at Rangoon July 19, 1820, and arrived at
Calcutta on the 18th of August. What a pang it must have cost them to
leave their little mission just at this time when, after long years of
waiting, they saw the Burmans eagerly and rapidly embracing the Gospel!
On the very day of embarkation Mr. Judson wrote to Dr. Baldwin:

                        “RANGOON, _July_ 19, 1820.

  “REV. AND DEAR SIR: My last gave you some account of our affairs to
  the time of brother Colman’s departure. Soon after that event Mrs.
  Judson was taken ill. The symptoms were at first slight, but they
  gradually became more decisive and alarming; and the disorder
  continued to gain ground, until she was unable to leave the couch, or
  walk across the room, without bringing on violent suffering. Under
  such circumstances I determined to accompany her to Bengal, partly for
  the sake of the voyage, which is commonly beneficial in such
  disorders, and partly to procure medical assistance, of which we are
  perfectly destitute in Rangoon.

  “Never did I feel more unwilling to leave Rangoon, nor was the mission
  ever in more interesting circumstances than at the present time. Since
  our return from Ava, I have not ventured to make any public movement,
  but confined myself at home, holding private worship, translating the
  Scriptures, and conversing with all who visited me. The Spirit of God
  has, however, continued operating in the minds of several, and carries
  on the work which began before we went up to Ava.... All the ten
  baptized disciples give satisfactory evidence of being true converts.
  Those of longest standing are evidently growing Christians. Some of
  them take the lead in prayer-meetings with great propriety; and nearly
  all of them have made some attempt at this exercise before the church.
  A good degree of Christian affection prevails among them all, the
  appearance of which, Moung Shwa-gnong says, convinced him more than
  anything else of the divine origin and efficacy of our religion. The
  proofs of their attachment to us are too numerous to be detailed. Even
  at this moment the house is full of people bewailing our departure,
  and begging us to return soon, most of whom never have received, and
  have no prospect of ever receiving, from us any temporal advantage
  whatever.

  “We are just now going aboard ship. I write this letter in haste, and
  leave it to be forwarded by another opportunity, that you may get some
  intelligence of us, in case we are lost at sea.

  “It is hardly necessary to add that, whatever may be the event of the
  present voyage, in regard to Mrs. Judson’s health, it is my intention
  to return to this place as soon as possible.”

After his arrival at Calcutta, Mr. Judson writes as follows to Dr.
Bolles:

  “About two months ago we commended our little church of ten converted
  Burmans to the protection and blessing of Him in whom they have
  trusted, and with reluctant hearts and weeping eyes tore ourselves
  away from the shores of Burmah. Mrs. J.’s illness alone forced us to
  adopt this measure. She had been growing worse for several months. I,
  at first, intended to send her alone to Bengal. But her state finally
  became so alarming that mere humanity seemed to forbid my sending her
  aboard ship without a single female companion or friend, to be
  consigned in all probability to the deep, or buried unwept on some
  foreign shore. I felt that the strictest devotedness to the mission
  did not forbid my leaving the station for a time, in order to
  facilitate the recovery of one who had been my faithful coadjutor in
  missionary privation and toil for many years, or at least to
  administer some consolation to her in the final trial, and perform in
  person the last offices which are due to those we love on earth.”

But these mournful forebodings were not to be realized.

The three months spent at Serampore, near Calcutta, caused a great
improvement in Mrs. Judson’s health. The two weary missionaries had
sweet and restful intercourse with the English Baptists stationed there,
and with “the affectionate family of Mr. Hough.” Mr. Judson’s enjoyment
was only marred by his extreme anxiety about “those few sheep that I
have left in the Burman wilderness.” “Oh, may the great Shepherd,” he
prays, “feed the little flock, and gather the lambs with His arm, and
carry them in His bosom.”

On November 23d Mr. and Mrs. Judson embarked for Rangoon, where they
arrived January 5, 1821.

  “Our voyage,” Mrs. Judson writes, “was tedious and distressing above
  any that we had ever taken. The brig was so small and so filled with
  native passengers that we were unable to obtain the least exercise by
  walking on deck, and was so full of scorpions and centipedes that we
  never dared to shut our eyes to sleep without completely enclosing
  ourselves with curtains. In addition to these inconveniences, we had a
  strong contrary wind and frequently violent squalls, with the most
  terrific thunder and lightning we had ever witnessed. We were six
  weeks in making a passage which is generally made in ten or fifteen
  days.”

After their joyous arrival in Rangoon they plunged once more into their
missionary work.

                         _Extracts from Journal._

  “_January 5, 1821._ As we drew near the town, we strained our eyes to
  distinguish the countenances of our friends amid the crowd that we saw
  assembled on the wharf. The first that we recognized was the teacher,
  Moung Shwa-gnong, with his hands raised to his head as he discerned us
  on the deck; and on landing we met successively with Mah Men-la, and
  Moung Thah-lah, and several others, men, women, and children, who,
  after our usual examination at the custom-office, accompanied us to
  the mission-house. Soon after, Moung Nau and others came in, who had
  not at first heard of our arrival. In the evening, I took my usual
  seat among the disciples, and when we bowed down in prayer, the hearts
  of us all flowed forth in gratitude and praise.

  “_January 7. Lord’s day._ Had worship and administered the Lord’s
  supper. Most of the disciples present; but some of them unavoidably
  detained in consequence of the distress which presses upon all ranks
  of people, occasioned by the expedition to Siam.

  “_January 13._ Yesterday Moung Gway, the only one of the baptized whom
  we had not seen, returned from the woods on hearing of our arrival;
  and I am now able to record (and I do it with the most heartfelt
  satisfaction and grateful praise to the preserving Saviour), that,
  though they have, for the space of six months, been almost destitute
  of the means of grace, and those who lived in our yard have been
  dispersed and forced, through fear of heavy extortion and oppression
  from petty officers of Government, to flee into the woods or take
  refuge under some Government person who could protect them, yet not
  one of them has dishonored his profession, but all remain firm in
  their faith and attachment to the cause. I do not, however, perceive
  that any of them have made the least advance in any respect whatever;
  nor was this to be expected, as they have not even enjoyed the
  privilege of meeting for worship.

  “The same remarks are to be made concerning the four Nan-dau-gong
  people, companions of Mah Men-la, who appeared to be hopefully pious
  before we left. The doctor, Oo Yan, with whom we did not feel so well
  satisfied, has been with me repeatedly, and, in the last interview,
  gave good reason to hope that he also is a true convert. He seems at
  length to have obtained light and satisfaction on the two difficult
  points which have so long perplexed him—namely, the doctrine of
  vicarious atonement, and the possibility of being a disciple of
  Christ, by keeping the two commands of grace, Repent and believe,
  without perfectly keeping the two immutable commands of merit, Love
  God entirely, and love others as yourself. O how interesting it is to
  see (you can almost see it with your eyes) the light of truth dawning
  upon a precious soul hitherto groping in darkness! If Oo Yan prove a
  true convert, he will be a most precious acquisition to our cause,
  next to Moung Shwa-gnong. He is a man of talent and respectability.
  His words are as smooth as oil, as sweet as honey, and as sharp as a
  razor.

  “In respect to Mah Bike, she has given way to her violent temper, and
  involved her husband in debt; and though she now professes to repent
  and desire baptism, and though we have some hope that she is not
  destitute of grace, we feel obliged at present to put her away from us
  as a wicked person.

  “The most important event (and that relates of course to Moung
  Shwa-gnong) remains to be mentioned. It will be remembered that he was
  accused before the former viceroy of being a heretic, and that the
  simple reply, ‘Inquire further,’ spread dismay amongst us all, and was
  one occasion of our visit to Ava. Soon after Mya-day-men assumed the
  government of this province, all the priests and officers of the
  village where Moung Shwa-gnong lives entered into a conspiracy to
  destroy him. They held daily consultations, and assumed a tone of
  triumph; while poor Moung Shwa-gnong’s courage began to flag, and,
  though he does not like to own it, he thought he must flee for his
  life. At length one of the conspiracy, a member of the supreme court,
  went into the presence of the viceroy, and in order to sound his
  disposition, complained that the teacher, Moung Shwa-gnong, was making
  every endeavor to turn the priests’ rice-pot bottom upwards. ‘_What
  consequence?_’ said the viceroy. ‘_Let the priests turn it back
  again._’ This sentence was enough; the hopes of the conspiracy were
  blasted, and all the disciples felt that they were sure of toleration
  under Mya-day-men. But his administration will not probably continue
  many months.

  “_January 20._ This afternoon Mrs. Judson went to the village of the
  Nan-dau-gong people to fix on a spot for the erection of a small
  school-house. Mah Men-la has, _of her own accord_, proposed to open a
  school in the precincts of her house, to teach the girls and boys of
  the village to read; in consequence of which, the latter will not be
  under the necessity of going to the Burman priests for education as
  usual. When we found that she had really made a beginning, we told her
  that some of the Christian females in America would, doubtless, defray
  the expenses of the undertaking, and make some compensation to the
  instructress. We fear the school will not succeed in the present state
  of the country; but we regard the voluntary attempt of Mah Men-la as
  illustrative of the efficiency of evangelical faith.

  “On Tuesday evening we recommenced our usual Tuesday and Friday
  evening prayer-meetings; but we expect to have very few present, as
  most of the disciples who formerly lived around us are afraid to
  return on account of the present general distress, from which we are
  unable to protect them.

  “_January 21. Lord’s day._ All the disciples but one, and all the
  hopeful inquirers, were present at worship; who, together with some
  others, made up an assembly of about twenty-five adults, all paying
  respectful and devout attention; the most interesting assembly, all
  things considered, that I have yet seen. How impossible it seemed, two
  years ago, that such a precious assembly could ever be raised up out
  of the Egyptian darkness, the atheistic superstition of this heathen
  land! After worship, two of the Nan-dau-gong people had some
  particular conversation with Moung Thah-lah about baptism. Much
  encouraged by the general appearance of things this day. Why art thou
  ever cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope
  thou in God—the God of the Burmans, as well as David’s God; for I
  shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance, revealed in the
  salvation of thousands of these immortal souls.

  “_February 16._ Moung Ing has returned. He is the second Burman whose
  heart was touched by divine grace. We rejoiced to see his face again,
  notwithstanding his rough and unprepossessing appearance, occasioned
  by the hardships through which he has passed since he left us. On his
  arrival at Bike, a town far below Rangoon, he showed his copy of
  Matthew to the Roman Catholic priest stationed there, who directly
  committed it to the flames; and gave, instead of it, a writing of his
  own device. But, through divine grace, our poor friend retained his
  integrity, and remained steadfast in the sentiments which he formerly
  embraced.

  “_February 20._ This is the second evening in which Mrs. Judson and
  myself have had an interview with the viceroy and his lady, in their
  inner apartment. Her highness gave us some very encouraging hints on
  the subject of religious toleration, and promised to introduce us to
  the emperor, on his visiting Rangoon next fall, in prosecution of the
  war with Siam.

  “_February 25. Lord’s day._ Moung Ing presented his petition for
  baptism and admission into the church, and we unhesitatingly agreed to
  grant his request next Lord’s day. Not one of the disciples has given
  more decided evidence of being a sincere and hearty believer in the
  Lord Jesus. The manner of his first acquaintance with the truth is
  somewhat noticeable. I had conversed with two men who visited the
  _zayat_ the preceding evening, and given them a tract. On their way
  home they called at the house of the Tsah-len teacher, where Moung Ing
  resided, said a few things about the eternal God and the new religion,
  by way of disapproval, and concluded that the tract was good for
  nothing but to tear up and make cigars of. But the truth which they
  despised fell like a flash of lightning on the benighted soul of Moung
  Ing. The next morning, before sunrise, he was in the porch of the
  _zayat_, and, on opening the doors, we found the poor man standing
  without. He will not, I trust, meet with any such detention at the
  doors of heaven.

  “_March 4. Lord’s day._ Moung Ing received baptism immediately after
  worship in the afternoon. Several of the hopeful inquirers witnessed
  the administration.

  “_May 15._ Dispatched the manuscript of Ephesians, and the first part
  of Acts, to Serampore, requesting brother Hough to procure an edition
  of six hundred of each, at the expense of the Board.

  “At night received a visit from Moung Gwa, brother-in-law to Moung
  Shwa-ba. He was accompanied by one Moung Thah-ee, an intractable,
  furious creature, noted for browbeating and silencing every
  antagonist. He professes to be a strict Buddhist, without the least
  doubt on the subject of religion; but having heard of my object in
  coming to this country, wishes to give me an opportunity of making him
  doubt. I found him extremely difficult to manage, and finally told him
  that he must get a humble mind, and pray to the true God, or he would
  never attain true wisdom. This threw him into a passion. He said he
  would have me to know that he was no common man. He could dispute with
  governors and kings, etc. I then gave him a tract, which he affected
  to disdain, but finally received it and went away.

  “_May 16._ Moung Gwa called to apologize for his companion’s conduct.
  He said that, from being always victorious in disputation, he had
  become insolent and overbearing, but that he was really inquiring
  after the truth, and had been reading the tract attentively. Moung Gwa
  himself seems to be favorably disposed to the Christian religion.

  “_May 17._ Moung Thah-ee spent the whole evening with me. I find that
  he has a strong mind, capable of grasping the most difficult subject.
  He listened to the truth with much more attention and patience than at
  first.

  “_May 18._ Moung Thah-ee came again, accompanied by several of his
  admirers. At first he behaved with some propriety, and allowed
  conversation to proceed in a regular manner. But soon he descended
  into his own native element, and stormed and raged. When I found that
  he would be utterly unreasonable, and not permit me even to finish a
  sentence, I remained silent, and suffered him to display himself. When
  he was quite exhausted, I took an opportunity to exhibit a brief view
  of the reasons which convinced me that the religion of Gaudama is
  false, and the Buddhist scriptures fictitious, and then challenged him
  to refute my statement. But he declined, saying that we were both
  tired, and he would finish the debate some other time.

  “_May 19._ A succession of company all the day. At night, Moung
  Thah-ee came alone, intending to have some private conversation; but
  no opportunity offered.

  “_May 20. Lord’s day._ Encountered another new character, one Moung
  Long, from the neighborhood of Shwa-doung, a disciple of the great
  Toung-dwen teacher, the acknowledged head of all the semi-atheists in
  the country. Like the rest of the sect, Moung Long is, in reality, a
  complete skeptic, scarcely believing his own existence. They say he is
  always quarrelling with his wife on some metaphysical point. For
  instance, if she says, ‘The rice is ready,’ he will reply, ‘Rice! what
  is rice? Is it matter or spirit? Is it an idea, or is it nonentity?’
  Perhaps she will say, ‘It is matter’; and he will reply, ‘Well, wife,
  and what is matter? Are you sure there is such a thing in existence,
  or are you merely subject to a delusion of the senses?’

  “When he first came in, I thought him an ordinary man. He has only one
  good eye; but I soon discovered that that one eye has as ‘great a
  quantity of being’ as half a dozen common eyes. In his manners he is
  just the reverse of Moung Thah-ee—all suavity, and humility, and
  respect. He professed to be an inquirer after the truth; and I
  accordingly opened to him some parts of the Gospel. He listened with
  great seriousness, and when I ceased speaking, remained so thoughtful
  and apparently impressed with the truth, that I began to hope he would
  come to some good, and therefore invited him to ask some question
  relative to what he had heard. ‘Your servant,’ said he, ‘has not much
  to inquire of your lordship. In your lordship’s sacred speech,
  however, there are one or two words that your servant does not
  understand. Your lordship says, that in the beginning God created one
  man and one woman. I do not understand (I beg your lordship’s pardon)
  what a man is, and why he is called a man.’ My eyes were now opened in
  an instant to his real character; and I had the happiness to be
  enabled, for about twenty minutes, to lay blow after blow upon his
  skeptical head, with such effect that he kept falling and falling; and
  though he made several desperate efforts to get up, he found himself,
  at last, prostrate on the ground, unable to stir. Moung Shwa-gnong,
  who had been an attentive listener, was extremely delighted to see his
  enemy so well punished; for this Moung Long has sorely harassed him in
  time past. The poor man was not, however, in the least angry at his
  discomfiture, but, in the true spirit of his school, said that, though
  he had heard much of me, the reality far exceeded the report.
  Afterward he joined us in worship, and listened with great attention,
  as did also his wife.

  “_May 21._ Moung Thah-ee came again, with several others; but he was
  so outrageous, and vulgar, and abusive, that I found it impossible to
  hold any rational conversation with him; and he finally went away in a
  great passion, saying that he had been sent by some men in authority
  to spy us out, and that by to-morrow he would bring us into trouble.
  Such threatenings tend to sink our spirits, and make us realize our
  truly helpless, destitute condition, as sheep in the midst of wolves.
  ‘Lord, behold their threatenings,’ etc.

  “_June 4._ Moung Long spent two or three hours with me, in which I
  endeavored to lay before him all the evidences of the truth of the
  Christian religion. His wife proves to be as sharp as himself, and has
  been harassing Mrs. Judson with all sorts of questions about the
  possibility of sin’s finding entrance into a pure mind, or of its
  being permitted under the government of a holy sovereign.

  “I have this day taken Moung Shwa-ba into the service of the mission.
  He bids fairer than any other member of the church to be qualified, in
  due time, for the ministry. For, though inferior to Moung Thah-lah in
  fluency of speech, and to Moung Shwa-gnong in genius and address, he
  is superior to the former in consistency of character and gravity of
  deportment, and to the latter in experimental acquaintance with divine
  things and devotedness to the cause. But the principal trait of
  character which distinguishes him from the rest, and affords
  considerable evidence that he is called by higher authority than that
  of man to the Christian ministry, is his _humble_ and _persevering_
  desire for that office—a desire which sprang up in his heart soon
  after his conversion, and has been growing ever since. I intend to
  employ him, at present, as an assistant in the _zayat_, on a small
  allowance of seven or eight rupees a month, which I hope the Board
  will approve of. In that situation he will have an opportunity of
  improving in those qualifications which are requisite to fit him to be
  a teacher of religion among his fellow-countrymen.

  “_June 10. Lord’s day._ Moung Long again present—all eye and ear. Mrs.
  Judson pronounces his wife superior in point of intellect to any woman
  she has ever met with in Burmah.

  “After evening worship, Mah Myat-lah presented her petition for
  admission into the church, which was granted, and next Sunday
  appointed for her baptism. The evidences of her piety are of the most
  satisfactory kind. We esteem her quite as highly as her sister, Mah
  Men-la, though she is far inferior in external qualifications.

  “_June 11._ Moung Long and wife spent most of the day with us. Their
  minds are in a truly hopeful state, though still greatly governed by
  the maxims of the Toung-dwen school. Their main inquiry to-day was how
  they could obtain faith in Christ. May the Holy Spirit solve their
  difficulties, by giving them an experimental acquaintance with that
  saving grace!

  “_June 14._ An intimate friend of the Woon-gyee-gah-dau told Mrs.
  Judson to-day, in presence of her highness, who by silence assented to
  the correctness of the remark, that when the emperor and others in
  Government said that all might believe and worship as they please, the
  toleration extended merely to foreigners resident in the empire, and
  by no means to native Burmans, who, being slaves of the emperor, would
  not be allowed with impunity to renounce the religion of their master.
  This remark accords with all that we have heard at Ava, and may be
  depended on (notwithstanding some private encouragement we have
  received from the viceroy and his wife) as affording a correct view of
  the state of religious toleration in this country. It is a fact that,
  except in our own private circle, it is not known that a single
  individual has actually renounced Buddhism, and been initiated into
  the Christian religion.

  “Mah Myat-lah informs us that the news of her intended baptism has
  been rumored among her neighbors, and excited a great uproar. She is
  not, however, disheartened, but rather wishes that her baptism may not
  be deferred till Sunday, lest some measures be taken to prevent it. I
  expect that she will present herself for baptism to-morrow evening,
  but am obliged to close up this number, as the vessel by which it is
  conveyed is just going down the river.

  “Pray for us and our little church.

  “_June 15._ According to the purpose mentioned under the last date,
  Mah Myat-lah received baptism, about sunset, at the usual place.

  “_July 3._ Moung Thah-lah was married to a woman resident in our yard,
  a usual attendant on public worship—the event somewhat noticeable, as
  being probably the first Christian marriage ever performed between
  persons of pure Burman extraction.

  “_July 14._ In the interval of receiving company, I have lately been
  employed in translating; have finished the Gospel and Epistles of
  John, those exquisitely sweet and precious portions of the New
  Testament, and am now employed on the latter part of Acts. I find
  Moung Shwa-ba a most valuable assistant in all parts of missionary
  work. Moung Shwa-gnong also begins ‘to be dissatisfied with being a
  mere disciple, and hopes that he shall some time be thought worthy of
  being a teacher of the Christian religion.’ These two, with Mah
  Men-la, are, at present, the flower of our little church. I have no
  reason, however, to complain of the conduct of any, considering the
  great disadvantages under which they all labor. Some have grown
  comparatively cold, but none have forgotten their first love. Praise
  forever be to Him

                    “‘Who is faithful to His promises,
                    And faithful to His Son.’

  “_August 4._ Am just recovering from the second fit of sickness which
  I have had this season. The second day after I was taken, Mrs. Judson
  was taken ill; and for several days we lay side by side, unable to
  help one another. Through divine mercy, however, we contrived to get
  our medicines from time to time, and are now in a convalescent state,
  so far as the fever is concerned. Mrs. Judson, however, is suffering
  severely, and her disease is making such rapid and alarming advances
  as to preclude all hope of her recovery in this part of the world.”

It now became Mr. Judson’s painful duty to send his wife to America.
This would occasion a separation of at least two years, but unless it
were done the life so dear to him, and of such incalculable value to the
Burman mission, would soon be brought to a close. Mr. Judson writes:

  “The crisis which I have long endeavored to avert has at length
  arrived; and I find myself under the most distressing necessity of
  giving my consent to Mrs. Judson’s departure for America.... I feel
  that there is no alternative; and I acquiesce in the measure, however
  painful to our feelings, under the full conviction that it is
  absolutely necessary, in order to avert a more painful separation,
  which might otherwise be realized in the course of a very few months—a
  separation final, and precluding all further hope in this world.

  “Whatever money Mrs. Judson may need in America, I beg may be paid to
  her order on the Treasurer; and all such money I shall pass to the
  credit of the Board, and deduct from my usual allowance.... I have
  made such arrangements as will prevent the necessity of burdening the
  Board with any additional expense on this occasion, except that of
  passages at sea; and for this my only apology must be the extreme
  necessity of the case.

  “Finally, I beg leave to recommend Mrs. Judson to the friends and
  patrons of the mission, as one who has faithfully labored many years
  in their service, and whose sole object in visiting her country once
  more is to recover her health and strength, that she may devote the
  remainder of her days to the promotion of the Redeemer’s cause among
  the perishing Burmans.”

Mrs. Judson embarked for Calcutta, on her way to America, August 21,
1821. Mr. Judson commends her to the care of Mr. Hough in these humorous
and pathetic words:

  “I send you herewith Mrs. Judson, and all that remains of the blue
  pill and senna, and beg you will see the articles all well packed and
  shipped for America by the earliest safe opportunity. Whatever
  expenses may be incurred be so good as to defray from your own funds,
  and transmit your bill to me.

  “It is said that man is prone to jest in the depth of misery; and the
  bon-mots of the scaffold have been collected; you may add the above
  specimen to the list if you like. I feel as if I was on the scaffold,
  and signing, as it were, my own death warrant. However, two years will
  pass away at last. Time and tide wait for no man, heedless alike of
  our joys and sorrows.

  “When I last wrote, I was in the latter part of Acts; since that time,
  I have done nothing at all. For ten days or a fortnight we were laid
  by with fever, unable to help one another; and since we became
  convalescent, I have been occupied in making up my mind to have my
  right arm amputated, and my right eye extracted, which the doctors say
  are necessary in order to prevent a decay and mortification of the
  whole body conjugal.”

His letters written to his wife during her absence betray here and there
a sinking even of his buoyant spirits:

  “_September 5, 1821._ I hope you enjoy more religion than I do. This
  heavy affliction does not have that salutary effect on my heart which
  I anticipated. Mercies and judgments seem to be thrown away on me, and
  I am afraid that I shall never make much advance in the divine life. I
  had such a view and sense of my depravity this morning as made me
  ready to give up all for lost—not, I mean, as it regards my interest
  in Christ—_there_ I feel strong—but as it regards any attainments in
  holiness, while remaining in this state of sin.

  “Oh! how consoling it is to give up myself, and you, and the interests
  of the mission, into the faithful hands of Jesus, and to look forward
  to that blessed state, where we are sure of meeting, though we should
  meet no more on earth. The Lord reigns, and I feel, at times, that I
  can safely trust all in His hands, and rejoice in whatever may betide.
  If we suffer with Christ we shall also be glorified with Him.

  “_September 12._ Company continued with me until after three o’clock;
  and then I found myself alone, and, for a few hours, was very desolate
  and unhappy.

  “But about sunset, the time mentioned in your last letter for mutual
  prayer, I felt more comfortable.”

  “I wish I could always feel as I did last evening, and have this
  morning. At first, on hearing Moung Shwa-gnong’s story, I felt much
  disheartened, and thought how pleasant it would be if we could find
  some quiet resting-place on earth, where we might spend the rest of
  our days together in peace, and perform the ordinary services of
  religion. But I fled to Jesus, and all such thoughts soon passed away.
  Life is short. Happiness consists not in outward circumstances.
  Millions of Burmans are perishing. I am almost the only person on
  earth who has attained their language to such a degree as to be able
  to communicate the way of salvation. How great are my obligations to
  spend and be spent for Christ! What a privilege to be allowed to serve
  Him in such interesting circumstances, and to suffer for Him! The
  heavenly glory is at hand. O, let me travel through this country, and
  bear testimony to the truth all the way from Rangoon to Ava, and show
  the path to that glory which I am anticipating. O, if Christ will only
  sanctify me and strengthen me, I feel that I can do all things. But in
  myself I am absolute nothingness; and when through grace I get a
  glimpse of divine things, I tremble lest the next moment will snatch
  it quite away.

  “Let us pray especially for one another’s growth in grace. Let me pray
  that the trials which we respectively are called to endure may wean us
  from the world, and rivet our hearts on things above. Soon we shall be
  in heaven. O, let us live as we shall then wish we had done. Let us be
  humble, unaspiring, indifferent equally to worldly comfort and the
  applause of men, absorbed in Christ, the uncreated Fountain of all
  excellence and glory.”

Even while on the journey to her dear native land, Mrs. Judson cast “a
longing, lingering look behind.” It was hard to leave Rangoon, even to
go to America. In a letter to Dr. Baldwin, dated Calcutta, December 8,
1821, she writes:

  “I left Rangoon last August, and arrived in Calcutta on the
  twenty-second of September. My disorder gained ground so rapidly, that
  nothing but a voyage at sea, and the benefit of a cold climate,
  presented the least hope of life. You will readily imagine that
  nothing but the prospect of a final separation would have induced us
  to decide on this measure, under circumstances so trying as those in
  which we were placed. But duty to God, to ourselves, to the Board of
  Missions, and to the perishing Burmans, compelled us to adopt this
  course of procedure, though agonizing _to all the natural feelings_ of
  our hearts. On my arrival in Calcutta, inquiries were immediately made
  relative to a voyage to America. But, to my great disappointment, I
  found most of the American captains far from being disposed to take
  passengers, on account of having their cargoes engaged to the extent
  of the tonnage of their vessels. One captain, however, offered to give
  me a passage for fifteen hundred rupees, but I could not think of
  causing the Board so great an expense. In mentioning my circumstances
  to Mrs. Thomason, (lady of the Rev. Mr. Thomason, chaplain,) she
  suggested the advantages of a voyage to England, on account of the
  superior accommodations, medical advice, and female passengers in
  English ships. The pious captain of a ship bound to England was then
  residing in her family; with him she consulted, and they made
  arrangements for my passage for five hundred rupees, provided I went
  in a cabin with three children, who were going to England. As my only
  object in going to sea is restoration of health, I did not hesitate to
  secure a passage, though I should have rejoiced (since I must take a
  long voyage) to have gone direct to America. The father of the
  children has since arrived in Calcutta, and has very kindly offered to
  pay the whole price of the cabin (which is four thousand rupees),
  which will enable me to go to England, free of expense to the Board.
  If the pain in my side is entirely removed while on my passage to
  Europe, I shall return to India in the same ship, and proceed
  immediately to Rangoon. But if not, I shall go over to America, and
  spend one winter in my dear native country. As ardently as I long to
  see my beloved friends in America, I can not prevail on myself to be
  any longer from Rangoon than is absolutely necessary for the
  preservation of my life. I have had a severe struggle relative to my
  _immediate_ return to Rangoon, instead of going to England. But I did
  not venture to go contrary to the convictions of reason, to the
  opinion of an eminent and skilful physician, and the repeated
  injunctions of Mr. Judson.”

Mrs. Judson was heartily welcomed by the Christians of England, and was
entertained at the house of Mr. Butterworth, a member of Parliament,
who, afterward referring to her in a public address, said that her visit
at his house reminded him of the words of Scripture: “Be not forgetful
to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels
unawares.”

She arrived in America Sept. 25, 1822, and remained until the 22d of
June, 1823. Her visit in this country awakened great missionary
enthusiasm, and on her return she was accompanied by the two
newly-appointed missionaries, Mr. and Mrs. Wade. She reached Rangoon on
the 5th of December, 1823, after an absence of about two years and three
months.

She is thus described by Dr. Wayland, who formed a personal acquaintance
with her during her visit in the United States:

  “I do not remember ever to have met a more remarkable woman. To great
  clearness of intellect, large powers of comprehension, and intuitive
  female sagacity, ripened by the constant necessity of independent
  action, she added that heroic disinterestedness which naturally loses
  all consciousness of self in the prosecution of a great object. These
  elements, however, were all held in reserve and were hidden from
  public view by a veil of unusual feminine delicacy. To an ordinary
  observer, she would have appeared simply a self-possessed, well-bred,
  and very intelligent gentlewoman. A more intimate acquaintance would
  soon discover her to be a person of profound religious feeling, which
  was ever manifesting itself in efforts to impress upon others the
  importance of personal piety. The resources of her nature were never
  unfolded until some occasion occurred which demanded delicate tact,
  unflinching courage, and a power of resolute endurance even unto
  death. When I saw her, her complexion bore that sallow hue which
  commonly follows residence in the East Indies. Her countenance at
  first seemed, when in repose, deficient in expression. As she found
  herself among friends who were interested in the Burman mission, her
  reserve melted away, her eye kindled, every feature was lighted up
  with enthusiasm, and she was everywhere acknowledged to be one of the
  most fascinating of women.”

After Mrs. Judson’s departure, Mr. Judson was left alone in Rangoon for
nearly four months, and continued his labors in complete solitude. On
December 13, 1821, the Rev. Jonathan Price, M.D., a medical missionary,
arrived with his family, and joined the mission. About a month later Mr.
Hough and his family returned from Calcutta. On the 2d of May, 1822,
Mrs. Price died, after having been in the country only five months, and
was buried by the side of Mr. Judson’s little Roger. Dr. Price’s medical
skill, especially shown in performing operations for cataracts,
attracted the attention of the Burman emperor at Ava. He was summoned to
appear at the royal court, and Mr. Judson thought it best to accompany
him, hoping that now the king’s favor might be secured in behalf of the
new religion, and that he might even be permitted to plant a mission in
the capital city. So on August 28, 1822, Mr. Judson set out on his
second journey to Ava, this time in the company of Dr. Price, and at the
expense of the Government. In the meantime, the number of the native
church membership in Rangoon had grown from ten to eighteen. His visit
to Ava, and return to Rangoon, are thus described in his journal:

  “After much tedious detention, resulting from our connection with
  Government, we reached Ava on the 27th of September. We were
  immediately introduced to the king, who received brother Price very
  graciously, and made many inquiries about his medical skill, but took
  no notice of me, except as interpreter. The a-twen-woon Moung Zah,
  however, immediately recognized me, made a few inquiries about my
  welfare, in presence of the king, and, after his majesty had
  withdrawn, conversed a little on religious subjects, and gave me some
  private encouragement to remain at the capital.

  “_October 1._ To-day the king noticed me for the first time, though I
  have appeared before him nearly every day since our arrival. After
  making some inquiries, as usual, about brother Price, he added, ‘And
  you in black, what are you? A medical man, too?’ ‘Not a medical man,
  but a teacher of religion, your majesty.’ He proceeded to make a few
  inquiries about my religion, and then put the alarming question
  whether any had embraced it. I evaded, by saying, ‘Not here.’ He
  persisted. ‘Are there any in Rangoon?’ ‘There are a few.’ ‘Are they
  foreigners?’ I trembled for the consequences of an answer, which might
  involve the little church in ruin; but the truth must be sacrificed,
  or the consequences hazarded, and I therefore replied, ‘There are some
  foreigners and some Burmans.’ He remained silent a few moments, but
  presently showed that he was not displeased, by asking a great variety
  of questions on religion, and geography, and astronomy, some of which
  were answered in such a satisfactory manner as to occasion a general
  expression of approbation in all the court present. After his majesty
  retired, a than-dau-sen (a royal secretary) entered into conversation,
  and allowed me to expatiate on several topics of the Christian
  religion, in my usual way. And all this took place in the hearing of
  the very man, now an a-twen-woon, who, many years ago, caused his
  uncle to be tortured almost to death under the iron mall for
  renouncing Buddhism and embracing the Roman Catholic religion; but I
  knew it not at the time, though, from his age, a slight suspicion of
  the truth passed across my mind. Thanks to God for the encouragement
  of this day! The monarch of the empire has distinctly understood that
  some of his subjects have embraced the Christian religion, and his
  wrath has been restrained. Let us then hope that, as he becomes more
  acquainted with the excellence of the religion, he will be more and
  more willing that his subjects should embrace it.

  “_October 3._ Left the boat, and moved into the house ordered to be
  erected for us by the king. A mere temporary shed, however, it proves
  to be, scarcely sufficient to screen us from the gaze of people
  without or from the rain above. It is situated near the present
  palace, and joins the enclosure of Prince M., eldest half brother of
  the king.

  “_October 4._ On our return from the palace, whither we go every
  morning after breakfast, Prince M. sent for me. I had seen him once
  before, in company with brother Price, whom he called for medical
  advice. To-day he wished to converse on science and religion. He is a
  fine young man of twenty-eight, but greatly disfigured by a paralytic
  affection of the arms and legs. Being cut off from the usual sources
  of amusement, and having associated a little with the Portuguese
  padres who have lived at Ava, he has acquired a strong taste for
  foreign science. My communications interested him very much, and I
  found it difficult to get away.

  “_October 21._ Visited the a-twen-woon Moung Zah, and had a long
  conversation on the religion and customs of foreigners, in which I
  endeavored to communicate as much as possible of the Gospel. Upon the
  whole, he appeared to be rather favorably disposed, and, on my taking
  leave, invited me respectfully to visit him occasionally. Thence I
  proceeded to the palace, but met with nothing noticeable, and thence
  to the house of Prince M., with whom I had an hour’s uninterrupted
  conversation. But I am sorry to find that he is rather amused with the
  information I give him, than disposed to consider it a matter of
  personal concern. I presented him with a tract, which he received as a
  favor; and finally I ventured to ask him whether Burman subjects who
  should consider and embrace the Christian religion would be liable to
  persecution. He replied, ‘Not under the reign of my brother. He has a
  good heart, and wishes all to believe and worship as they please.’

  “_October 23._ Had some pleasant conversation with Moung Zah in the
  palace, partly in the hearing of the king. At length his majesty came
  forward, and honored me with some personal notice for the second time,
  inquired much about my country, and authorized me to invite American
  ships to his dominions, assuring them of protection, and offering
  every facility for the purposes of trade.

  “_October 24._ Visited Moung Zah at his house. He treated me with
  great reserve, and repelled all attempts at conversation. Afterward
  called on Prince M., and spent a long time with him and the officers
  in waiting. The whole tract was read before them by one of the
  secretaries. In the afternoon, went out of town to visit Moung
  Shwa-thah, former viceroy of Rangoon. During our absence, Prince M.
  sent to our house to call me, saying that a learned pundit was in
  attendance with whom he wished to hear me converse.

  “_October 26._ While I lay ill some days ago, a young man, brother of
  an officer of Prince M., visited me, and listened to a considerable
  exposition of Gospel truth. Since then he has occasionally called, and
  manifested a desire to hear and know more. This evening he came to
  attend our evening worship, and remained conversing till nine o’clock.
  I hope that light is dawning on his mind. He desires to know the
  truth, appears to be, in some degree, sensible of his sins, and has
  some slight apprehension of the love and grace of the Lord Jesus
  Christ.

  “_October 28._ Spent the forenoon with Prince M. He obtained, for the
  first time (though I have explained it to him many times), some view
  of the nature of the atonement, and cried out, ‘Good, good!’ He then
  proposed a number of objections, which I removed to his apparent
  satisfaction. Our subsequent conversation turned, as usual, on points
  of geography and astronomy. He candidly acknowledged that he could not
  resist my arguments in favor of the Copernican system, and that, if he
  admitted them, he must also admit that the Buddhist system was
  overthrown. In the afternoon, visited Prince T. A hopeless case.

  “_October 29._ Made an introductory visit to the Great Prince, so
  called by way of eminence, being the only brother of the queen, and
  sustaining the rank of chief a-twen-woon. Have frequently met him at
  the palace, where he has treated me rather uncourteously; and my
  reception to-day was such as I had too much reason to expect.

  “_October 30._ Spent part of the forenoon with Prince M. and his wife,
  the Princess of S., own sister of the king. Gave her a copy of Mrs.
  Judson’s Burman catechism, with which she was much pleased. They both
  appear to be somewhat attached to me, and say, ‘Do not return to
  Rangoon, but, when your wife arrives, call her to Ava; the king will
  give you a piece of ground on which to build a _kyoung_’ (a house
  appropriated to the residence of sacred characters). In the evening,
  they sent for me again, chiefly on account of an officer of
  Government, to whom they wished to introduce me.

  “_October 31._ Visited the a-twen-woon Moung K., whom I have
  frequently met at the palace, who has treated me with distinguished
  candor. He received me very politely, and, laying aside his official
  dignity, entered into a most spirited dispute on various points of
  religion. He pretended to maintain his ground without the shadow of
  doubt; but I am inclined to think that he has serious doubts. We
  parted in a very friendly manner, and he invited me to visit him
  occasionally.

  “_November 12._ Spent the whole forenoon with Prince M. and his wife.
  Made a fuller disclosure than ever before of the nature of the
  Christian religion, the object of Christians in sending me to this
  country, my former repulse at court and the reason of it, our exposure
  to persecution in Rangoon, the affair of Moung Shwa-gnong, etc., etc.
  They entered into my views and feelings with considerable interest;
  but both said, decidedly, that, though the king would not himself
  persecute any one on account of religion, he would not give any order
  exempting from persecution, but would leave his subjects, throughout
  the empire, to the regular administration of the local authorities.

  “After giving the prince a succinct account of my religious
  experience, I ventured to warn him of his danger, and urged him to
  make the Christian religion his immediate personal concern. He
  appeared, for a moment, to feel the force of what I said, but soon
  replied, ‘I am yet young—only twenty-eight. I am desirous of studying
  all the foreign arts and sciences. My mind will then be enlarged, and
  I shall be capable of judging whether the Christian religion be true
  or not.’ ‘But suppose your highness changes worlds in the meantime?’
  His countenance again fell. ‘It is true,’ said he, ‘I know not when I
  shall die.’ I suggested that it would be well to pray to God for
  light, which, if obtained, would enable him at once to distinguish
  between truth and falsehood; and so we parted. O Fountain of Light,
  shed down one ray into the mind of this amiable prince, that he may
  become a patron of Thine infant cause, and inherit an eternal crown.

  “_November 14._ Another interview with Prince M. He seemed, at one
  time, almost ready to give up the religion of Gaudama, and listened
  with much eagerness and pleasure to the evidences of the Christian
  religion. But presently two Burman teachers came in, with whom he
  immediately joined, and contradicted all I said.

  “_November 18._ Visited the Princess of T., at her particular request.
  She is the eldest own sister of the king, and therefore, according to
  Burman laws, consigned to perpetual celibacy. She had heard of me from
  her brother-in-law, Prince M., and wished to converse on science and
  religion. Her chief officer and the mayor of the city were present;
  and we carried on a desultory conversation, such as necessarily takes
  place on the first interview. Her highness treated me with uncommon
  affability and respect, and invited me to call frequently.

  “_November 26._ Have been confined since the 21st with a third attack
  of the fever and ague. To-day went to the palace, and presented a
  petition for a certain piece of ground within the walls of the town,
  ‘to build a _kyoung_ on.’ The king granted it, on condition that the
  ground should be found unoccupied.

  “_November 28._ Spent the whole day at the palace, in
  endeavoring to secure the ground petitioned for. At night, the
  land-measurer-general’s secretary accompanied me to ascertain
  the premises, and make out a plan of the place.

  “_November 29._ The land-measurer-general reported to the a-twen-woons
  that the ground was not actually occupied, but, having been the site
  of a _kyoung_ when formerly the city was the seat of Government, must
  be considered sacred and inalienable; in which opinion nearly all the
  a-twen-woons coincided, notwithstanding the king’s decision to the
  contrary.

  “Had an interesting interview with Prince M., and presented him with a
  copy of the last three chapters of Matthew, in compliance with his
  wish to have an account of the death and resurrection of Jesus-Christ.
  He appeared concerned for our failure to-day in the privy council, but
  still maintained that, though the ground was sacred, it might with
  propriety be given to a priest, though not a priest of Gaudama, and
  advised me to make another application to the king.

  “_December 25._ I have had nothing scarcely of a missionary nature to
  notice since the last date, having been employed, most of the time
  (that is, in the intervals of two more attacks of fever and ague), in
  endeavoring to procure a piece of ground within the city, but have
  been defeated at every point.

  “In prosecuting this business, I had one noticeable interview with the
  king. Brother Price and two English gentlemen were present. The king
  appeared to be attracted by our number, and came toward us; but his
  conversation was directed chiefly to me. He again inquired about the
  Burmans who had embraced my religion. ‘Are they real Burmans? Do they
  dress like other Burmans?’ etc. I had occasion to remark that I
  preached every Sunday. ‘What! in Burman?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Let us hear how you
  preach.’ I hesitated. An a-twen-woon repeated the order. I began with
  a form of worship which first ascribes glory to God, and then declares
  the commands of the law of the Gospel; after which I stopped. ‘Go on,’
  said another a-twen-woon. The whole court was profoundly silent. I
  proceeded with a few sentences, declarative of the perfections of God,
  when his majesty’s curiosity was satisfied, and he interrupted me. In
  the course of subsequent conversation, he asked what I had to say of
  Gaudama. I replied, that we all knew he was the son of King
  Thog-dan-dah-nah; that we regarded him as a wise man and a great
  teacher, but did not call him God. ‘That is right,’ said Moung K. N.,
  an a-twen-woon who has not hitherto appeared very friendly to me. And
  he proceeded to relate the substance of a long communication which I
  lately made to him, in the privy council room, about God and Christ,
  etc. And this he did in a very clear and satisfactory manner, so that
  I had scarcely a single correction to make in his statement. Moung
  Zah, encouraged by all this, really began to take the side of God
  before his majesty, and said, ‘Nearly all the world, your majesty,
  believe in an eternal God, all, except Burmah and Siam, these little
  spots!’ His majesty remained silent, and after some other desultory
  inquiries, he abruptly arose, and retired.

  “_January 2, 1823._ To-day I informed the king that it was my
  intention to return to Rangoon. ‘Will you proceed thence to your own
  country?’ ‘Only to Rangoon.’ His majesty gave an acquiescing nod. The
  a-twen-woon Moung Zah inquired, ‘Will you both go, or will the doctor
  remain?’ I said that he would remain. Brother Price made some remark
  on the approaching hot season, and the inconvenience of our present
  situation; on which Moung Zah, inferring that it was on account of the
  climate that I was about leaving, turned to me, saying, ‘Then you will
  return here, after the hot season.’ I looked at the king, and said
  that if it was convenient, I would return; which his majesty again
  sanctioned by an acquiescing nod and smile, and in reply to brother
  Price, said, ‘Let a place be given him.’ Brother Price, however,
  thinks of retaining the small place on which we now live for medical
  purposes, and getting a place at Chagaing, on the opposite side of the
  river, for his permanent residence.

  “In the evening had a long conversation with Moung Zah on religion. He
  believes that there is an eternal God, and that Gaudama, and Christ,
  and Mahomet, and others are great teachers, who communicated as much
  truth respectively as they could, but that their communications are
  not the word of God. I pressed my arguments as far as I dared; but he
  seemed to have reflected much on the subject, and to have become quite
  settled and inflexible in his conclusions. He may be called a deistic
  Buddhist, the first that I have met in the country. On parting,
  however, he remarked, ‘This is a deep and difficult subject. Do you,
  teacher, consider further, and I also will consider.’

  “_January 7._ Among the many places which I endeavored in vain to
  procure was a small one, sufficient for one family only, pleasantly
  situated on the banks of the river, just without the walls of the
  town, and about a mile from the palace. But it had been appropriated
  by the chief woon-gyee, and partly fenced in, with the intention of
  building a temporary zayat for his recreation and refreshment, when
  accompanying the king in that quarter of the city, and was, therefore,
  placed beyond any reasonable hope of attainment. Among other desperate
  attempts, however, I wrote a short petition, asking for that place,
  and begging leave to express my gratitude, by presenting a certain sum
  of money. It was necessary to put this into his own hand; and I was,
  therefore, obliged to follow him about, and watch his movements, for
  two or three days, until a favorable opportunity occurred, when he was
  apart from all his retinue. I seized the moment, presented myself
  before him, and held up the paper. He read it, and smiled. ‘You are
  indefatigable in your search after a place. But you can not have that.
  It is for my own use. Nor, if otherwise, could you get it for money.
  Search further.’ I now concluded to return to Rangoon for the present,
  and wait until the town should be settled, when, as all inform me, I
  shall be able to accommodate myself better. I accordingly informed the
  king of my purpose, as mentioned above, and began to look about for a
  boat. In the meantime, it occurred to me to make a ‘seventh attempt to
  fix the thread,’ and I sought another interview with the chief
  woon-gyee, a being who is really more difficult of access than the
  king himself. This evening I was so fortunate as to find him at his
  house, lying down, surrounded by forty or fifty of his people. I
  pressed forward into the foremost rank, and placed myself in a proper
  attitude. After a while, his eye fell upon me, and I held up a small
  bottle of _eau de luce_, and desired to present it. One of his
  officers carried it to him. He happened to be much pleased with it,
  and sat upright. ‘What kind of a house do you intend to build?’ I told
  him, but added, ‘I have no place to build on, my lord.’ He remained in
  a meditating attitude a few moments, and then suddenly replied, ‘_If
  you want the little enclosure, take it!_’ I expressed my gratitude. He
  began to take more notice of me, inquired about my character and
  profession, and then entered, with considerable spirit, on the subject
  of religion. After some conversation, he desired a specimen of my mode
  of worship and preaching; and I was obliged to repeat much more than I
  did before the king; for whenever I desisted, he ordered me to go on.
  When his curiosity was satisfied, he lay down, and I quietly retired.

  “_January 8._ After taking the best advice, Burman and foreign, I
  weighed out the sum of money mentioned in the private petition,
  together with the estimated expense of fencing the place given me by
  the woon-gyee, and in the evening carried it to his house, where I was
  again fortunate in finding him in the same position as yesterday
  evening. A few noblemen and their attendants were present, which
  prevented me from immediately producing the money. His excellency soon
  took notice of me, and from seven o’clock till nine, the time was
  chiefly occupied in conversation on religious subjects. I found
  opportunity to bring forward some of my favorite arguments, one of
  which, in particular, seemed to carry conviction to the minds of all
  present, and extorted from the great man an expression of praise; such
  praise, however, as is indicative of surprise rather than approbation.
  When the company retired, my people at the outer door overheard one
  say to another, ‘Is it not pleasant to hear this foreign teacher
  converse on religion?’ ‘Ay,’ said the other, ‘but his doctrines are
  derogatory to the honor of Lord Gaudama.’ When they were gone, I
  presented the money, saying that I wished to defray the expense of
  fencing the ground, which had been graciously given me. His excellency
  was pleased with the offer, but gently declined accepting anything. He
  then looked steadily at me, as if to penetrate into the motives of my
  conduct, and recollecting the manœuvres of the first English settlers
  in Bengal, thought he had discovered something. ‘Understand, teacher,
  that we do not give you the entire owning of this ground. We take no
  recompense, _lest it become American territory_. We give it to you for
  your present residence only, and, when you go away, shall take it
  again.’ ‘When I go away, my lord, those at whose expense the house is
  to be built, will desire to place another teacher in my stead.’ ‘Very
  well, let him also occupy the place; but when he dies, or when there
  is no teacher, we will take it.’ ‘In that case, my lord, take it.’

  “_January 10._ Spent the whole of yesterday and to-day with various
  secretaries and officers of Government in getting actual possession of
  the ground given me.

  “_January 13._ Built a small house, and stationed one of the disciples
  and family to keep the place during my absence.

  “_January 18._ Removed to Chagaing, into a house which Prince M. has
  allowed brother Price to build on his ground, in expectation that a
  change of air and residence would relieve me from the fever and ague,
  under which I suffer nearly every other day. It is my intention,
  however, to return immediately to Rangoon, the time being nearly
  expired which I at first proposed to spend in Ava, and the ends for
  which I came up being sufficiently gained.

  “_January 22._ Took leave of Prince M. He desired me to return soon,
  and bring with me all the Christian Scriptures, and translate them
  into Burman. ‘For,’ said he, ‘I wish to read them all.’

  “_January 24._ Went to take leave of the king, in company with Mr. L.,
  collector of the port of Rangoon, who arrived last evening. We sat a
  few moments conversing together. ‘What are you talking about?’ said
  his majesty. ‘He is speaking of his return to Rangoon,’ replied Mr. L.
  ‘What does he return for? Let him not return. Let them both [that is,
  brother Price and myself] stay together. If one goes away, the other
  must remain alone, and will be unhappy.’ ‘He wishes to go for a short
  time only,’ replied Mr. L., ‘to bring his wife, the female teacher,
  and his goods, not having brought anything with him this time; and he
  will return soon.’ His majesty looked at me. ‘Will you, then, come
  again?’ I replied in the affirmative. ‘When you come again, is it your
  intention to remain permanently, or will you go back and forth, as
  foreigners commonly do?’ ‘When I come again, it is my intention to
  remain permanently.’ ‘Very well,’ said his majesty, and withdrew into
  his inner apartment.

  “Heard to-day of the death of Mah Myat-lah, sister of Mah Men-la, one
  of the most steadfast of the church in Rangoon.

  “_January 25._ Embarked on a small boat, intending to go day and
  night, and touch nowhere, in order to avoid the robbers, of which we
  have lately had alarming accounts.

  “_February 2. Lord’s day._ At one o’clock in the morning reached
  Rangoon, seven days from Ava.

  “A letter from Mrs. Judson, in England, informs me that she is going
  to America, and will not be here under several months. I propose,
  therefore, waiting her return, and occupying the interval in finishing
  the translation of the New Testament.”

The way now seemed open to establish a mission in Ava. Mr. Judson always
longed to go into the “regions beyond.” The Houghs and the Wades could
sufficiently care for the infant church at Rangoon. Why not plant a
church in the heart of the empire, under the shelter of the throne? A
letter to Dr. Baldwin discloses this daring purpose:

                      “RANGOON, _February_ 11, 1823.

  “REV. AND DEAR SIR: My last to you was written just before we left
  Rangoon for Ava.

  “You will learn from my journal, forwarded herewith to the
  Corresponding Secretary, the particulars of our visit to Ava. Suffice
  it here to say that the Lord has been gracious to us beyond our
  expectation. My reception, as a minister of religion, has been very
  different from what it was before. A liberal and candid spirit seems
  to prevail among all the members of the royal family, and among many
  of the leading members of Government. It is distinctly understood by
  the king, and by all who have any knowledge of me at all, that I am a
  thah-tha-nah-pyoo-tsayah, that is, a religion-propagating teacher; and
  yet I have been smiled on, and listened to, and, by order of the king
  himself, have received from the chief public minister of state the
  grant of a small piece of ground, for the express purpose of building
  a _kyoung_ (a house appropriated to sacred characters). It is my
  intention, therefore, to return thither as soon as Mrs. Judson
  arrives, who, I hear, has gone on to America. And in the meantime, I
  shall occupy myself in finishing the translation of the New
  Testament—a work which I left unfinished with great reluctance, and
  which I rejoice to have leisure to resume.

  “During my absence, one of the best of our church members, the sister
  of Mah Men-la, was called from this world to join, I trust, the church
  triumphant. She died in peace and joy, professing her belief in Jesus
  Christ, and saying that she should soon be with Him in heaven.

  “During the whole of my residence at Ava, I was severely afflicted at
  intervals with the fever and ague. I did hope that a change of climate
  would effect my cure; but the disorder has followed me to Rangoon, and
  I am subject to it every other day. Brother Price was apprehensive
  that it would terminate fatally, having resisted every medical
  application, and become so deeply rooted; and he would have
  accompanied me hither, had I not dissuaded him. My only hope now is,
  that it will exhaust itself before my constitution is exhausted; but
  the Lord’s will be done. I could wish to live to finish the New
  Testament, and I should also be happy to see a little church raised up
  in Ava, as there has been in Rangoon. But the ways of God are not as
  the ways of man. He does all things well. Glory be to His holy name
  forevermore.”

But before going to Ava, he must await Mrs. Judson’s arrival. Ten months
intervened between his return from Ava and her arrival at Rangoon.
During this time he completed the translation of the New Testament into
Burmese, and prepared an epitome of the Old Testament, which might serve
as an introduction to the study of the New. On the 13th of December,
1823, eight days after Mrs. Judson’s arrival, he set out in company with
her for Ava, where they arrived on January 23, 1824. This marked an
epoch in Mr. Judson’s life. His ardent, active temperament was to be
subjected to the crucible of passive endurance; and we now pass from the
record of his activities to the story of his sufferings.

-----

Footnote 26:

  See Map II.

Footnote 27:

    “One of these female disciples was found at Rangoon by the
    missionaries in August, 1852, having attained the age of eighty
    years. From the time of her baptism until then, for thirty years,
    she had maintained, in the midst of heathenism, a consistent
    Christian profession. She remembered well Mr. Judson and ‘the Mamma’
    Judson, and was in daily expectation of meeting them again in
    heaven.”

                              CHAPTER VII.
                      LIFE IN AVA AND OUNG-PEN-LA.
                               1823-1826.

When Mr. and Mrs. Judson left Rangoon to establish their home in Ava,
the outlook was encouraging. They had left behind them a small but
vigorous church of eighteen converted Burmans, under the care of Mr. and
Mrs. Hough, and Mr. and Mrs. Wade. They had been invited by the king to
live in the capital city, and had received from him a plot of ground on
which to build a mission-house. They felt sure of royal protection and
favor. Many persons of high rank seemed kindly disposed to the new
religion; while Dr. Price had won golden opinions by his medical skill.

They immediately commenced the building of a little dwelling-house, and
Mrs. Judson soon had a school of three native girls. Mr. Judson preached
in Burmese every Sunday at Dr. Price’s house, and held worship every
evening. The journey up the Irrawaddy and the beginning of their life in
Ava are described in the following fragment from a letter written by
Mrs. Judson to her parents and sisters:

                        “AVA, _February_ 10, 1824.

  “After two years and a half wandering, you will be pleased to hear
  that I have at last arrived at home, so far as this life is concerned,
  and am once more quietly and happily settled with Mr. Judson.

  “We had a quick and pleasant passage from Calcutta to Rangoon. Mr.
  Judson’s boat was all in readiness, my baggage was immediately taken
  from the ship to the boat, and in seven days from my arrival we were
  on our way to the capital. Our boat was small and inconvenient; but
  the current at this season is so very strong, and the wind always
  against us, that our progress was slow indeed. The season, however,
  was cool and delightful; we were preserved from dangers by day and
  robbers by night, and arrived in safety in six weeks. The
  A-rah-wah-tee (Irrawadi) is a noble river; its banks everywhere
  covered with immortal beings, destined to the same eternity as
  ourselves. We often walked through the villages, and though we never
  received the least insult, always attracted universal attention. A
  foreign female was a sight never before beheld, and all were anxious
  that their friends and relatives should have a view. Crowds followed
  us through the villages, and some, who were less civilized than
  others, would run some way before us in order to have a _long_ look as
  we approached them. In one instance, the boat being some time in
  doubling a point we had walked over, we seated ourselves, when the
  villagers, as usual, assembled, and Mr. Judson introduced the subject
  of religion. Several old men who were present entered into
  conversation, while the multitude was all attention. The apparent
  schoolmaster of the village coming up, Mr. Judson handed him a tract,
  and requested him to read. After proceeding some way, he remarked to
  the assembly that such a writing was worthy of being copied, and asked
  Mr. Judson to remain while he copied it. Mr. Judson informed him he
  might keep the tract, on condition he read it to all his neighbors. We
  could not but hope the Spirit of God would bless those few simple
  truths to the salvation of some of their souls.

  “Our boat was near being upset in passing through one of the rapids
  with which this river abounds. The rudder became entangled in the
  rocks, which brought the boat across the stream and laid her on one
  side. The steersman, however, had presence of mind sufficient to cut
  the rudder from the boat, which caused her to right, without
  experiencing any other inconvenience than a thorough fright and the
  loss of our breakfast, which was precipitated from the fireplace into
  the water, together with everything on the outside of the boat.

  “On our arrival at Ava, we had more difficulties to encounter, and
  such as we had never before experienced. We had no home, no house to
  shelter us from the burning sun by day and the cold dews at night. Dr.
  Price had kindly met us on the way, and urged our taking up our
  residence with him; but his house was in such an unfinished state, and
  the walls so damp (of brick, and just built), that spending two or
  three hours threw me into a fever, and induced me to feel that it
  would be presumption to remain longer. We had but one alternative—to
  remain in the boat till we could build a small house on the spot of
  ground which the king gave Mr. Judson last year. And you will hardly
  believe it possible—for I almost doubt my senses—that, in just a
  fortnight from our arrival, we moved into a house built in that time,
  and which is sufficiently large to make us comfortable. It is in a
  most delightful situation, out of the dust of the town, and on the
  bank of the river. The spot of ground given by his majesty is small,
  being only one hundred and twenty feet long and seventy-five wide; but
  it is our own, and is the most healthy situation I have seen. Our
  house is raised four feet from the ground, and consists of three small
  rooms and a veranda.

  “I hardly know how we shall bear the hot season, which is just
  commencing, as our house is built of boards, and before night is
  heated like an oven. Nothing but brick is a shelter from the heat of
  Ava, where the thermometer, even in the shade, frequently rises to a
  hundred and eight degrees. We have worship every evening in Burman,
  when a number of the natives assemble; and every Sabbath Mr. Judson
  preaches the other side of the river in Dr. Price’s house. We feel it
  an inestimable privilege, that amid all our discouragements we have
  the language, and are able constantly to communicate truths which can
  save the soul.

  “My female school has already commenced with three little girls, who
  are learning to read, sew, etc. Two of them are sisters, and we have
  named them _Mary_ and _Abby Hasseltine_. One of them is to be
  supported with the money which the ‘Judson Association of Bradford
  Academy’ have engaged to collect. They are fine children, and improve
  as rapidly as any children in the world. Their mother is deranged, and
  their father gave them to me to educate, so that I have been at no
  expense for them excepting their food and clothes. I have already
  begun to make inquiries for children, and doubt not we shall be
  directed in regard to our school.”

The following letter from Mr. Judson to Dr. Baldwin shows, however, that
a dark cloud was gathering on the horizon:

                                              “AVA, _February_ 19, 1824.

  “My last was dated the 7th of December, a few days after Mrs. J.’s
  arrival in Rangoon. We left on the 13th ensuing, and were six weeks on
  the journey. A few days below Ava, brother Price met us in a small
  boat, having heard of our approach. From him we first learned that all
  the _A-twen-woons_, the privy council of the king, had been turned out
  of office, and a new set appointed, with whom we had no acquaintance
  or interest. Various occurrences had conspired to render the king
  somewhat disaffected toward foreigners. Brother Price has made but
  little advance in the royal favor. On my appearing at the palace, I
  found that a year had made great changes. My old friends and advocates
  before the king were missing. Very few recognized me. At length his
  majesty came forward, just spoke to me, and accepted a small present.
  But I have seen him twice since without obtaining a word or look.

  “The only persons who ever received me with real cordiality are Prince
  M. and his wife; but even they are not much disposed to converse on
  religion.

  “I have public worship every Lord’s day at brother Price’s, as he is
  able, from his acquaintance with the neighbors around him, to collect
  an assembly of a dozen or twenty, including two or three of the
  disciples who accompanied us from Rangoon.

  “But my time has been hitherto almost wholly occupied in getting up
  something to shelter us on the lot formally assigned me by the
  Government. It will be necessary also to build a small brick house as
  soon as possible, and to use every other precaution against the heat,
  which is so intense during the months of April, May, and June, as to
  raise the thermometer to one hundred and eight and ten in the shade.

  “A misunderstanding has existed for several months between this and
  the Bengal Government. Troops have marched from both sides to the
  frontiers. War appeared at one time to be certain, but the latest
  accounts are rather pacific. In the case of actual war, as the
  distinction between Americans and Englishmen is pretty well understood
  in this place, we hope we shall not be considered as implicated, and
  suffer no other inconvenience than that of having all communication
  with our friends cut off, except in case of war’s reaching the
  capital, when we shall be exposed to the vicissitudes and dangers
  incident to such a state.

  “But in all cases, we trust that we have a few dear friends at home
  who bear us on their hearts at the throne of grace, and a still dearer
  and greater Friend at the right hand of the Divine Presence in Heaven,
  who is touched with the feeling of our infirmities, and will
  graciously succor us in the time of trouble and make us come off
  conquerors at last.

  “But, my dear and venerable friend and brother and father, you are,
  from long experience, more able than I am to taste the sweetness of
  this precious truth; and your advanced age, and the grace of Christ,
  enable you to hope that you will ere long be allowed to adopt the
  triumphant language of the Apostle Paul. Pray for me, that I may be
  accounted worthy to hold out to the end, and finally meet with you
  before the throne, and handle a harp of gold in the dear Redeemer’s
  praise.”

Mr. Judson’s forebodings were well founded. War soon broke out between
Burmah and the English Government in India. For two years after the
writing of the above letter, the Christians of America were kept in a
state of terrible suspense, unbroken by any tidings from their
missionaries in Ava, which was only assuaged by fervent and universal
prayer on their behalf.

The occasion of the war was Chittagong, that particular strip of low
land lying along the sea and flanking Burmah on the west, and to which
Mr. Colman had gone to prepare an asylum for the Judsons in case they
should be driven out of Rangoon. This district was under British rule,
and refugees from the cruel despotism of Burmah had taken shelter there.
The Burman monarch insisted that his victims should be arrested by the
English authorities and handed over to him. Besides, he felt that
Chittagong belonged naturally to Burmah. And such was his pride and his
contempt for British prowess, that he deemed it quite possible for him
not only to recover this territory, but even to conquer the whole of
Bengal.

When war actually broke out, suspicion fell at once on all the white
foreigners residing in Ava. They were thought to be spies secretly
acting in collusion with the English Government. They were immediately
arrested, fettered, and thrown into the death-prison.

  “I was seized,” Dr. Judson writes, “on the 8th of June, 1824, in
  consequence of the war with Bengal, and in company with Dr. Price,
  three Englishmen, one American, and one Greek, was thrown into the
  death-prison at Ava, where we lay eleven months—nine months in three
  pairs, and two months in five pairs of fetters. The scenes we
  witnessed and the sufferings we underwent during that period I would
  fain consign to oblivion. From the death-prison at Ava, we were
  removed to a country prison at Oung-pen-la, ten miles distant, under
  circumstances of such severe treatment, that one of our number, the
  Greek, expired on the road; and some of the rest, among whom was
  myself, were scarcely able to move for several days. It was the
  intention of the Government, in removing us from Ava, to have us
  sacrificed in order to insure victory over the foreigners; but the
  sudden disgrace and death of the adviser of that measure prevented its
  execution. I remained in the Oung-pen-la prison six months in one pair
  of fetters; at the expiration of which period, I was taken out of
  irons, and sent under a strict guard to the Burmese headquarters at
  Mah-looan, to act as interpreter and translator. Two months more
  elapsed, when, on my return to Ava, I was released at the instance of
  Moung Shwa-loo, the north governor of the palace, and put under his
  charge. During the six weeks that I resided with him, the affairs of
  the Government became desperate, the British troops making steady
  advances on the capital; and after Dr. Price had been twice dispatched
  to negotiate for peace (a business which I declined as long as
  possible), I was taken by force and associated with him. We found the
  British above Pah-gan; and on returning to Ava with their final terms,
  I had the happiness of procuring the release of the very last of my
  fellow-prisoners; and on the 21st inst. obtained the reluctant consent
  of the Government to my final departure from Ava with Mrs. Judson.”

In these few modest words Mr. Judson passes over all the prolonged
horrors which he endured in the confinement of an Oriental jail. Let us
glance at his experience more in detail. His imprisonment was remarkable
for its _duration_. For nine months he was confined in three pairs of
fetters, two months in five, six months in one; for two months he was a
prisoner at large; and for nearly two months, although released from
prison, he was yet restrained in Ava under the charge of the north
governor of the palace, so that his confinement reached nearly to the
end of twenty-one long months.

[Illustration: EXTERIOR OF PRISON ENCLOSURE.]

Again, for most of the time of his confinement, he was shut up in a
loathsome, wretched _place_.

  “It derives its remarkable, well-selected name,
  _Let-ma-yoon_—literally interpreted, _hand, shrink not_—from the
  revolting scenes of cruelty practiced within its walls. To those
  acquainted with the Burmese language, the name conveys a peculiar
  impression of terror. It contemplates the extreme of human suffering,
  and when this has reached a point at which our nature recoils—when it
  is supposed that any one bearing the human form might well refuse to
  be the instrument to add to it, the hand of the executioner is
  apostrophized and encouraged not to follow the dictates of the heart:
  ‘Thine eye shall not pity and thine hand not spare.’”[28]

The _Let-ma-yoon_ was a building about forty feet long and thirty feet
wide. It was five or six feet high along the sides, but as the roof
sloped, the centre of it was perhaps double that height. There was no
ventilation except through the chinks between the boards and through the
door, which was generally closed. On the thin roof poured down the
burning rays of a tropical sun. In this room were confined nearly one
hundred prisoners of both sexes and all nationalities. Dr. Price thus
describes the impressions he received on entering the prison:

  “A little bamboo door opened, and I rose to go toward it. But oh! who
  can describe my sensations! shackled like a common felon, in the care
  of hangmen, the offscouring of the country, turned like a dog into his
  kennel, my wife, my dear family, left to suffer alone all the rudeness
  such wretches are capable of. The worst, however, was yet to come; for
  making the best of my way up the high steps, I was ushered into the
  grand apartment. Horror of horrors, what a sight! never to my dying
  day shall I forget the scene: a dim lamp in the midst, just making
  darkness visible, and discovering to my horrified gaze sixty or
  seventy wretched objects, some in long rows made fast in the stocks,
  some strung on long poles, some simply fettered; but all sensible of a
  new acquisition of misery in the approach of a new prisoner.
  Stupefied, I stopped to gaze till, goaded on, I proceeded toward the
  further end, when I again halted. A new and unexpected sight met my
  eyes. Till now I had been kept in ignorance of the fate of my
  companions. A long row of white objects, stretched on the floor in a
  most crowded situation, revealed to me, however, but too well their
  sad state, and I was again urged forward. Poor old Rodgers, wishing to
  retain the end of the bamboo, made way for me to be placed alongside
  of Mr. Judson. ‘We all hoped you would have escaped, you were so long
  coming,’ was the first friendly salutation I had yet received; but
  alas, it was made by friends whose sympathy was now unavailable.”

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE LET-MA-YOON PRISON.]

The following description of the interior of this jail is given by an
English fellow-prisoner of Mr. Judson:

  “The only articles of furniture the place contained were these: First,
  and most prominent, was a gigantic row of stocks, similar in its
  construction to that formerly used in England, but now nearly extinct;
  though dilapidated specimens may still be seen in some of the
  marketplaces of our own country towns. It was capable of accommodating
  more than a dozen occupants, and like a huge alligator opened and shut
  its jaws with a loud snap upon its prey. Several smaller reptiles,
  interesting varieties of the same species, lay basking around this
  monster, each holding by the leg a pair of hapless victims consigned
  to its custody. These were heavy logs of timber, bored with holes to
  admit the feet, and fitted with wooden pins to hold them fast. In the
  centre of the apartment was placed a tripod, holding a large earthen
  cup filled with earth-oil, to be used as a lamp during the
  night-watches; and lastly, a simple but suspicious-looking piece of
  machinery whose painful uses it was my fate to test before many hours
  had elapsed. It was merely a long bamboo suspended from the roof by a
  rope at each end, and worked by blocks or pulleys, to raise or depress
  it at pleasure.

  “Before me, stretched on the floor, lay forty or fifty hapless
  wretches, whose crimes or misfortunes had brought them into this place
  of torment. They were all nearly naked, and the half-famished features
  and skeleton frames of many of them too plainly told the story of
  their protracted sufferings. Very few were without chains, and some
  had one or both feet in the stocks besides. A sight of such squalid
  wretchedness can hardly be imagined. Silence seemed to be the order of
  the day; perhaps the poor creatures were so engrossed with their own
  misery that they hardly cared to make any remarks on the intrusion of
  so unusual an inmate as myself.

  “If the _ensemble_ be difficult to portray, the stench was absolutely
  indescribable, for it was not like anything which exists elsewhere in
  creation. I will therefore give the facts, and leave the reader’s nose
  to understand them by a synthetic course of reasoning—if it can.

  “The prison had never been washed, nor even swept, since it was built.
  So I was told, and have no doubt it was true; for, besides the ocular
  proof from its present condition, it is certain no attempt was made to
  cleanse it during my subsequent tenancy of eleven months. This gave a
  kind of fixedness or permanency to the fetid odors, until the very
  floors and walls were saturated with them, and joined in emitting the
  pest. Putrid remains of castaway animal and vegetable stuff, which
  needed no broom to make it _move on_—the stale fumes from thousands of
  tobacco-pipes—the scattered ejections of the pulp and liquid from
  their everlasting betel, and other nameless abominations, still more
  disgusting, which strewed the floor—and if to this be added the
  exudations from the bodies of a crowd of never-washed convicts,
  encouraged by the thermometer at 100°, in a den almost without
  ventilation—is it possible to say what it _smelt_ like?

  “As might have been expected from such a state of things, the place
  was teeming with creeping vermin to such an extent that very soon
  reconciled me to the plunder of the greater portion of my dress.”

Surely it were enough for Mr. Judson to be shut up in the hot, stifling
stench of a place like this without having his ankles and legs weighted
with five pairs of irons, the scars from which he wore to his dying day.
He could say with the Apostle Paul, “I bear in my body the marks of the
Lord Jesus.” In each pair of fetters the two iron rings were connected
by a chain so short that the heel of one foot could hardly be advanced
to the toe of the other; and this task could be accomplished only by
“shuffling a few inches at a time.” The five pairs of irons weighed
about fourteen pounds, and when they were removed after being long worn,
there was a strained sensation, the equilibrium of the body seemingly
destroyed, so that the head was too heavy for the feet. Then at
nightfall, lest the prisoners should escape, they were _strung_ (to use
Dr. Price’s graphic if not elegant expression) on a bamboo pole.

  “When night came on,” writes one of Mr. Judson’s fellow-prisoners,
  “the ‘Father’ of the establishment, entering, stalked toward our
  corner. The meaning of the bamboo now became apparent. It was passed
  between the legs of each individual, and when it had threaded our
  number, seven in all, a man at each end hoisted it up by the blocks to
  a height which allowed our shoulders to rest on the ground, while our
  feet depended from the iron rings of the fetters. The adjustment of
  the height was left to the judgment of our kind-hearted parent, who
  stood by to see that it was not high enough to endanger life, nor low
  enough to exempt from pain.... In the morning, our considerate parent
  made his appearance, and, with his customary grin, lowered down the
  bamboo to within a foot of the floor, to the great relief of our
  benumbed limbs, in which the blood slowly began again to circulate.”

When Mr. Judson was subjected to these indignities and tortures, he was
in the very prime of life—thirty-six years old. He had come to that age
when a good physical constitution is thoroughly seasoned and well
qualified to endure hardship.

He had always taken the best care of his health consistent with the
performance of his multiform duties. Even before leaving America, he had
adopted the following rules: First, frequently to inhale large
quantities of air, so as to expand the lungs to the uttermost; secondly,
daily to sponge the whole body in cold water; and thirdly, and above
all, to take systematic exercise in walking.

Again, he had that tough, wiry physique which endures unexpectedly even
during prolonged crises. All this was in his favor. But, on the other
hand, he was a student, unused to suffering hardship. His naturally
vigorous constitution had been somewhat enfeebled by ten years of close
application to study in a tropical climate, and of late years had been
completely shattered by repeated blows of fever and ague. He was reared
in the cold, bracing air of New England, and during the tedious hours of
imprisonment, how often must his memory have projected the sufferings of
the Oriental jail against the background of the cool, green hillsides of
his childhood. For

                            ... “this is truth the poet sings,
    That a sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.”

And his was an active, methodical nature, to which the enforced idleness
of twenty-one months must have brought the keenest torture. There was
his Burman Bible unfinished, and ten years of work in Rangoon going to
pieces in his absence. He longed to be preaching the Gospel. Now that he
had at last completely mastered the native tongue, he was filled with
Jeremiah’s consuming zeal. “His word was in mine heart, as a burning
fire shut up in my bones.”

Endowed with a nervous temperament, his nature was exceedingly sensitive
to discomfort. One of his fellow-prisoners says: “His painful
sensitiveness to anything gross or uncleanly, amounting almost to folly,
was an unfortunate virtue to possess, and made him live a life of
constant martyrdom.” Of his personal habits, Mrs. E. C. Judson says:

  “His predilection for neatness, uniformity, and order amounted,
  indeed, to a passion. Then he had an innate sort of refinement about
  him, which would subject him to annoyance when a less sensitive person
  would only be amused—a most inconvenient qualification for a
  missionary. This passion for order—which I should rather consider an
  unconquerable love for the beautiful and elegant, studiously
  perverted—displayed itself rather oddly after the means for its
  natural gratification and development were cut off. Nobody ever
  luxuriated more in perfectly spotless linen, though, partly from
  necessity, and partly because there was a suspicion among his friends
  that he would wear no other, it was always coarse. The tie of the
  narrow black ribbon, which he wore instead of a neckcloth, was
  perfect, and the ribbon itself would not have soiled the purest snow,
  though it was often limp and rusty from frequent washing. His general
  dress was always clean, and adjusted with scrupulous exactness, though
  it often looked as if it might have belonged to some rustic of the
  last century, being of the plainest material, and in fashion the
  American idea of what was proper for a missionary, perpetuated in
  broad caricature by a bungling Bengalee tailor. Most people thought
  that he dressed oddly from a love of eccentricity; but the truth is,
  he was not in the least aware of anything peculiar in his costume,
  never seeing himself in a mirror larger than his pocket toilet-glass.
  He could see his feet, however; and his shoes never had a spot on
  their polish, nor the long, white, carefully-gartered stockings a
  wrinkle, much less a stain. In the construction and arrangement of his
  unique studying apparatus, which was composed of two long, narrow
  boxes mounted on a teak table, there was the same mixture of plainness
  with neatness and order, and, what was rather conspicuous in all his
  arrangements, a wonderful capacity for convenience. No one ever
  thought of invading his study corner; for he dusted his books and
  papers himself, and knew so well where everything was placed, that he
  could have laid his hand upon the smallest article in the darkest
  night.”

A nature amply endowed with these fine sensibilities must have
instinctively shrunk from the filth of the dungeon and the squalor of
the prisoners; while the constrained and crowded position, night and
day, and the galling fetters, were almost unendurable.

There was also much to shock his moral nature. He found himself thrown
into close association with the basest criminals of the Burman capital.
His pure look rested upon their repulsive features, his reluctant ears
were filled with their vulgar and blasphemous jests. Besides this, again
and again he saw the wretched prisoner tortured with the cord and the
mallet, and was forced to hear the writhing victim’s shriek of anguish.

Again, he was a man of the strongest and tenderest affections. What keen
mental anguish must he have experienced at the thought of his beloved
wife threading alone the hot, crowded streets, hourly exposed to the
insults of rude Burman officials; day by day bringing or sending food to
the jail; assuaging the wretchedness of the prisoners by bribing their
keepers; pleading for the release of her husband with one Burman officer
after another, and with such pathetic eloquence that on one occasion she
melted to tears even the old governor of the prison; giving birth to her
babe during a confinement of only twenty days; carrying her little Maria
all the way in her arms to that “never-to-be-forgotten place,”
Oung-pen-la, her only conveyance a rough cart, the violent motion of
which, together with the dreadful heat and dust, made her almost
distracted; nursing her infant and the little native girls under her
care through a course of small-pox; and at last, broken down herself,
and brought to death’s door by the same loathsome disease, succeeded by
the dread spotted fever.

Add to these horrors of Mr. Judson’s imprisonment the daily and even
hourly anticipation of torture and death, and it will be difficult to
conceive of a denser cloud of miseries than that which settled down on
his devoted head. The prisoners knew that they were arrested as spies.
The Burman king and his generals were exasperated by the rapid and
unexpected successes of the English army, and Mr. Judson and his
fellow-prisoners had every reason to suppose that this pent-up fury
would be poured upon their heads. It was customary to _question_ the
prisoner with instruments of torture—the cord and the iron mallet.
Rumors of a frightful doom were constantly sounding in their ears. Now
they heard their keepers during the night sharpening the knives to
decapitate the prisoners the next morning; now the roar of their
mysterious fellow-prisoner, a huge, starving lioness, convinced them
that they were to be executed by being thrown into her cage; now it was
reported that they were to be burned up together with their prison as a
sacrifice; now that they were to be buried alive at the head of the
Burman army in order to insure its victory over the English. The
following description by Mr. Gouger of the solemn hour of three, shows
the exquisite mental torture to which the prisoners were subjected:

  “Within the walls nothing worthy of notice occurred until the hour of
  three in the afternoon. As this hour approached, we noticed that the
  talking and jesting of the community gradually died away; all seemed
  to be under the influence of some powerful restraint, until that fatal
  hour was announced by the deep tones of a powerful gong suspended in
  the palace-yard, and a death-like silence prevailed. If a word was
  spoken it was in a whisper. It seemed as though even breathing were
  suspended under the control of a panic terror, too deep for
  expression, which pervaded every bosom. We did not long remain in
  ignorance of the cause. If any of the prisoners were to suffer death
  that day, the hour of three was that at which they were taken out for
  execution. The very manner of it was the acme of cold-blooded cruelty.
  The hour was scarcely tolled by the gong when the wicket opened, and
  the hideous figure of a spotted man appeared, who, without uttering a
  word, walked straight to his victim, now for the first time probably
  made acquainted with his doom. As many of these unfortunate people
  knew no more than ourselves the fate that awaited them, this mystery
  was terrible and agonizing; each one fearing, up to the last moment,
  that the stride of the spot might be directed his way. When the
  culprit disappeared with his conductor, and the prison door closed
  behind them, those who remained began again to breathe more freely;
  for another day, at least, their lives were safe.

  “I have described this process just as I saw it practiced. On this
  first day, two men were thus led away in total silence; not a useless
  question was asked by the one party, nor explanation given by the
  other; all was too well understood. After this inhuman custom was made
  known to us, we could not but participate with the rest in their
  diurnal misgivings, and shudder at the sound of the gong and the
  apparition of the _pahquet_. It was a solemn daily lesson of an
  impressive character, ‘Be ye also ready.’”

It is no wonder that Mr. Judson in the midst of these horrors took
refuge in the quietism of Madame Guyon, and used often to murmur her
beautiful lines:

                 “No place I seek, but to fulfil
                 In life, and death, Thy lovely will;
                 No succor in my woes I want,
                 Except what Thou art pleased to grant.
                 Our days are numbered—let us spare
                 Our anxious hearts a needless care;
                 ’Tis Thine to number out our days,
                 And ours to give them to Thy praise.”

His sublime faith in God never faltered. One of his fellow-captives thus
writes of him:

  “Often he expressed to me such sentiments as these: ‘Think what the
  consequences of this invasion must be. Here have I been ten years
  preaching the Gospel to timid listeners who wished to embrace the
  truth, but dared not; beseeching the emperor to grant liberty of
  conscience to his people, but without success; and now, when all human
  means seemed at an end, God opens the way by leading a Christian
  nation to subdue the country. It is possible that my life may be
  spared; if so, with what ardor and gratitude shall I pursue my work;
  and if not, His will be done; the door will be opened for others who
  will do the work better.’”

The following letter from Mrs. Judson to her brother tells the story of
the imprisonment, and forms, perhaps, the most thrilling recital to be
found in the annals of missions:

                        “RANGOON, _May_ 26, 1826.

  “I commence this letter with the intention of giving you the
  particulars of our captivity and sufferings at Ava. How long my
  patience will allow my reviewing scenes of disgust and horror, the
  conclusion of this letter will determine. I had kept a journal of
  everything that had transpired from our arrival at Ava, but destroyed
  it at the commencement of our difficulties.

  “The first certain intelligence we received of the declaration of war
  by the Burmese was on our arrival at Tsen-pyoo-kywon, about a hundred
  miles this side of Ava, where part of the troops under the command of
  the celebrated Bandoola had encamped. As we proceeded on our journey,
  we met Bandoola himself with the remainder of his troops, gaily
  equipped, seated on his golden barge, and surrounded by a fleet of
  golden war-boats, one of which was instantly dispatched from the other
  side of the river to hail us, and make all necessary inquiries. We
  were allowed to proceed quietly on, when we had informed the messenger
  that we were Americans, _not English_, and were going to Ava in
  obedience to the command of his majesty.

  “On our arrival at the capital, we found that Dr. Price was out of
  favor at court, and that suspicion rested on most of the foreigners
  then at Ava. Your brother visited at the palace two or three times,
  but found the king’s manner toward him very different from what it
  formerly had been; and the queen, who had hitherto expressed wishes
  for my speedy arrival, now made no inquiries after me, nor intimated a
  wish to see me. Consequently, I made no effort to visit at the palace,
  though almost daily invited to visit some of the branches of the royal
  family, who were living in their own houses, out of the palace
  enclosure. Under these circumstances, we thought our most prudent
  course lay in prosecuting our original intention of building a house,
  and commencing missionary operations as occasions offered, thus
  endeavoring to convince the Government that we had really nothing to
  do with the present war.

  “In two or three weeks after our arrival, the king, queen, all the
  members of the royal family, and most of the officers of Government,
  returned to Amarapoora, in order to come and take possession of the
  new palace in the customary style. As there has been much
  misunderstanding relative to Ava and Amarapoora, both being called the
  capital of the Burmese empire, I will here remark that the present Ava
  was formerly the seat of Government; but soon after the old king had
  ascended the throne, it was forsaken, and a new palace built at
  Amarapoora, about six miles from Ava, in which he remained during his
  life. In the fourth year of the reign of the present king, Amarapoora
  was in its turn forsaken, and a new and beautiful palace built at Ava,
  which was _then_ in ruins, but is _now the capital_ of the Burmese
  empire. The king and royal family had been living in temporary
  buildings at Ava, during the completion of the new palace, which gave
  occasion for their returning to Amarapoora.

  “For several weeks nothing took place to alarm us, and we went on with
  our school. Mr. Judson preached every Sabbath; all the materials for
  building a brick house were procured, and the masons had made
  considerable progress in raising the building.

  “On the 23d of May, 1824, just as we had concluded worship at the
  doctor’s house, the other side of the river, a messenger came to
  inform us that Rangoon was taken by the English. The intelligence
  produced a shock, in which was a mixture of fear and joy. Mr. Gouger,
  a young merchant residing at Ava, was then with us, and had much more
  reason to fear than the rest of us. We all, however, immediately
  returned to our house, and began to consider what was to be done. Mr.
  G. went to Prince Thah-ya-wa-dee, the king’s most influential brother,
  who informed him he need not give himself any uneasiness, as he had
  mentioned the subject to his majesty, who had replied, that ‘the few
  foreigners residing at Ava had nothing to do with the war, and should
  not be molested.’

  “The Government were now all in motion. An army of ten or twelve
  thousand men, under the command of the kyee-woon-gyee, were sent off
  in three or four days, and were to be joined by the sakyah-woon-gyee,
  who had previously been appointed viceroy of Rangoon, and who was on
  his way thither when the news of its attack reached him. No doubt was
  entertained of the defeat of the English; the only fear of the king
  was, that the foreigners, hearing of the advance of the Burmese
  troops, would be so alarmed as to flee on board their ships and
  depart, before there would be time to secure them as slaves. ‘Bring
  for me,’ said a wild young buck of the palace, ‘six kala-pyoos [white
  strangers] to row my boat.’ ‘And to me,’ said the lady of a woon-gyee,
  ‘send four white strangers to manage the affairs of my house, as I
  understand they are trusty servants.’ The war-boats, in high glee,
  passed our house, the soldiers singing and dancing, and exhibiting
  gestures of the most joyous kind. ‘Poor fellows!’ said we, ‘you will
  probably never dance again.’ And it so proved, for few, if any, ever
  again saw their native home.

  “As soon as the army were dispatched, the Government began to inquire
  the cause of the arrival of the strangers at Rangoon. There must be
  spies in the country, suggested some, who had invited them over. And
  who so likely to be spies as the Englishmen residing at Ava? A report
  was in circulation that Captain Laird, lately arrived, had brought
  Bengal papers which contained the intention of the English to take
  Rangoon, and it was kept a secret from his majesty. An inquiry was
  instituted. The three Englishmen, Gouger, Laird, and Rogers, were
  called and examined. It was found they had seen the papers, and were
  put in confinement, though not in prison. We now began to tremble for
  ourselves, and were in daily expectation of some dreadful event.

  “At length Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were summoned to a court of
  examination, where strict inquiry was made relative to all they knew.
  The great point seemed to be whether they had been in the habit of
  making communications to foreigners of the state of the country, etc.
  They answered, they had always written to their friends in America,
  but had no correspondence with English officers, or the Bengal
  Government. After their examination they were not put in confinement,
  as the Englishmen had been, but were allowed to return to their
  houses, in examining the accounts of Mr. Gouger, it was found that Mr.
  Judson and Dr. Price had taken money of him to a considerable amount.
  Ignorant as were the Burmese of our mode of receiving money by orders
  on Bengal, this circumstance, to their suspicious minds, was a
  sufficient evidence that the missionaries were in the pay of the
  English, and very probably spies. It was thus represented to the king,
  who, in an angry tone, ordered the immediate arrest of the ‘two
  teachers.’

  “On the 8th of June, just as we were preparing for dinner, in rushed
  an officer, holding a black book, with a dozen Burmans, accompanied by
  _one_, whom, from his spotted face, we knew to be an executioner, and
  a ‘son of the prison.’ ‘Where is the teacher?’ was the first inquiry.
  Mr. Judson presented himself. ‘You are called by the king,’ said the
  officer—a form of speech always used when about to arrest a criminal.
  The spotted man instantly seized Mr. Judson, threw him on the floor,
  and produced the small cord, the instrument of torture. I caught hold
  of his arm. ‘Stay,’ said I; ‘I will give you money.’ ‘Take her too,’
  said the officer; ‘she also is a foreigner.’ Mr. Judson, with an
  imploring look, begged they would let me remain till further orders.
  The scene was now shocking beyond description. The whole neighborhood
  had collected; the masons at work on the brick house threw down their
  tools, and ran; the little Burman children were screaming and crying;
  the Bengalee servants stood in amazement at the indignities offered
  their master; and the hardened executioner, with a kind of hellish
  joy, drew tight the cords, bound Mr. Judson fast, and dragged him off
  I knew not whither. In vain I begged and entreated the spotted face to
  take the silver, and loosen the ropes; but he spurned my offers, and
  immediately departed. I gave the money, however, to Moung Ing to
  follow after, to make some further attempt to mitigate the torture of
  Mr. Judson; but instead of succeeding, when a few rods from the house,
  the unfeeling wretches again threw their prisoner on the ground, and
  drew the cords still tighter, so as almost to prevent respiration.

  “The officer and his gang proceeded on to the court-house, where the
  governor of the city and officers were collected, one of whom read the
  order of the king to commit Mr. Judson to the death-prison, into which
  he was soon hurled, the door closed, and Moung Ing saw no more. What a
  night was now before me! I retired into my room, and endeavored to
  obtain consolation from committing my case to God, and imploring
  fortitude and strength to suffer whatever awaited me. But the
  consolation of retirement was not long allowed me, for the magistrate
  of the place had come into the veranda, and continually called me to
  come out, and submit to his examination. But previously to going out,
  I destroyed all my letters, journals, and writings of every kind, lest
  they should disclose the fact that we had correspondents in England,
  and had minuted down every occurrence since our arrival in the
  country. When this work of destruction was finished, I went out, and
  submitted to the examination of the magistrate, who inquired very
  minutely of everything I knew; then ordered the gates of the compound
  to be shut, no person to be allowed to go in or out, placed a guard of
  ten ruffians, to whom he gave a strict charge to keep me safe, and
  departed.

  “It was now dark. I retired to an inner room with my four little
  Burman girls, and barred the doors. The guard instantly ordered me to
  unbar the doors and come out, or they would break the house down. I
  obstinately refused to obey, and endeavored to intimidate them by
  threatening to complain of their conduct to higher authorities on the
  morrow. Finding me resolved in disregarding their orders, they took
  the two Bengalee servants, and confined them in the stocks in a very
  painful position. I could not endure this, but called the head man to
  the window, and promised to make them all a present in the morning, if
  they would release the servants. After much debate, and many severe
  threatenings, they consented, but seemed resolved to annoy me as much
  as possible. My unprotected, desolate state, my entire uncertainty of
  the fate of Mr. Judson, and the dreadful carousings and almost
  diabolical language of the guard, all conspired to make it by far the
  most distressing night I had ever passed. You may well imagine, my
  dear brother, that sleep was a stranger to my eyes, and peace and
  composure to my mind.

  “The next morning I sent Moung Ing to ascertain the situation of your
  brother, and give him food, if still living. He soon returned, with
  the intelligence that Mr. Judson and all the white foreigners were
  confined in the death-prison, with three pairs of iron fetters each,
  and fastened to a long pole, to prevent their moving! The point of my
  anguish now was, that I was a prisoner myself, and could make no
  efforts for the release of the missionaries. I begged and entreated
  the magistrate to allow me to go to some member of Government to state
  my case; but he said he did not dare to consent, for fear I should
  make my escape. I next wrote a note to one of the king’s sisters, with
  whom I had been intimate, requesting her to use her influence for the
  release of the teachers. The note was returned, with this message: she
  ‘did not understand it’; which was a polite refusal to interfere;
  though I afterward ascertained that she had an anxious desire to
  assist us, but dared not, on account of the queen. The day dragged
  heavily away, and another dreadful night was before me. I endeavored
  to soften the feelings of the guard by giving them tea and cigars for
  the night; so that they allowed me to remain inside of my room without
  threatening, as they did the night before. But the idea of your
  brother being stretched on the bare floor, in irons and confinement,
  haunted my mind like a spectre, and prevented my obtaining any quiet
  sleep, though nature was almost exhausted.

  “On the third day I sent a message to the governor of the city, who
  has the entire direction of prison affairs, to allow me to visit him
  with a present. This had the desired effect, and he immediately sent
  orders to the guards to permit my going into town. The governor
  received me pleasantly, and asked me what I wanted. I stated to him
  the situation of the foreigners, and particularly that of the
  teachers, who were Americans, and had nothing to do with the war. He
  told me it was not in his power to release them from prison or irons,
  but that he could make their situation more comfortable; there was his
  head officer, with whom I must consult relative to the means. The
  officer, who proved to be one of the city writers, and whose
  countenance at the first glance presented the most perfect assemblage
  of all the evil passions attached to human nature, took me aside and
  endeavored to convince me that myself, as well as the prisoners, was
  entirely at his disposal; that our future comfort must depend on my
  liberality in regard to presents; and that these must be made in a
  private way, and unknown to any officer in the Government! ‘What must
  I do,’ said I, ‘to obtain a mitigation of the present sufferings of
  the two teachers?’ ‘Pay to me,’ said he, ‘two hundred ticals [about a
  hundred dollars], two pieces of fine cloth, and two pieces of
  handkerchiefs.’ I had taken money with me in the morning; our house
  being two miles from the prison, I could not easily return. This I
  offered to the writer, and begged he would not insist on the other
  articles, as they were not in my possession. He hesitated for some
  time; but fearing to lose the sight of so much money, he concluded to
  take it, promising to relieve the teachers from their most painful
  situation.

  “I then procured an order from the governor for my admittance into
  prison; but the sensations produced by meeting your brother, in that
  _wretched, horrid_ situation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I
  will not attempt to describe.[29] Mr. Judson crawled to the door of
  the prison—for I was never allowed to enter—gave me some directions
  relative to his release; but before we could make any arrangement, I
  was ordered to depart by those iron-hearted jailers, who could not
  endure to see us enjoy the poor consolation of meeting in that
  miserable place. In vain I pleaded the order from the governor for my
  admittance; they again harshly repeated, ‘Depart, or we will pull you
  out.’ The same evening the missionaries, together with the other
  foreigners, who paid an equal sum, were taken out of the common
  prison, and confined in an open shed in the prison enclosure. Here I
  was allowed to send them food, and mats to sleep on, but was not
  permitted to enter again for several days.

  “My next object was to get a petition presented to the queen; but no
  person being admitted into the palace who was in disgrace with his
  majesty, I sought to present it through the medium of her brother’s
  wife. I had visited her in better days, and received particular marks
  of her favor. But now times were altered; Mr. Judson was in prison,
  and I in distress, which was a sufficient reason for giving me a cold
  reception. I took a present of considerable value. She was lolling on
  her carpet as I entered, with her attendants around her. I waited not
  for the usual question to a suppliant, ‘What do you want?’ but in a
  bold, earnest, yet respectful manner, stated our distresses and our
  wrongs, and begged her assistance. She partly raised her head, opened
  the present I had brought, and coolly replied, ‘Your case is not
  singular; all the foreigners are treated alike.’ ‘But it is singular,’
  said I; ‘the teachers are Americans; they are ministers of religion,
  have nothing to do with war or politics, and came to Ava in obedience
  to the king’s command. They have never done anything to deserve such
  treatment, and is it right they should be treated thus?’ ‘The king
  does as he pleases,’ said she; ‘I am not the king; what can I do?’
  ‘You can state their case to the queen, and obtain their release,’
  replied I. ‘Place yourself in my situation; were you in America, your
  husband, innocent of crime, thrown into prison, in irons, and you a
  solitary, unprotected female, what would you do?’ With a slight degree
  of feeling, she said, ‘I will present your petition; come again
  to-morrow.’ I returned to the house with considerable hope that the
  speedy release of the missionaries was at hand. But the next day, Mr.
  Gouger’s property, to the amount of fifty thousand rupees, was taken
  and carried to the palace. The officers, on their return, politely
  informed me they should _visit our house_ on the morrow. I felt
  obliged for this information, and accordingly made preparations to