LIFE IN MAULMAIN (CONTINUED).
1831-1845.
It now became Mr. Judson’s duty to return to Maulmain. He had been
absent thirteen months. The first part of that time had been spent in
the futile effort to establish a mission at Prome, and the last part he
had labored alone with native converts at Rangoon, distributing tracts,
preaching the Gospel and translating the Scriptures. Mr. and Mrs. Wade
had repaired to Rangoon soon after his return from Prome; but Mrs.
Wade’s health had so completely broken down that it was thought best for
her and her husband to take a voyage to America. The ship in which the
Wades sailed was driven out of its course by violent gales, and at last
put into a port on the coast of Arracan. Here Mrs. Wade’s health was so
much improved that the idea of going to America was given up, and they
returned to Maulmain instead. But, in the meantime, Mr. Judson’s
presence seemed indispensable there. A new party of missionaries had
arrived from America, including Mr. and Mrs. Mason, Mr. and Mrs.
Kincaid, and Mr. and Mrs. Jones. The Masons had gone to Tavoy. Mr. Jones
went to Rangoon to take Mr. Judson’s place, and the Kincaids were still
staying at Maulmain.
When he returned to Maulmain, he saw much to delight his heart. The
little church had been enlarged by the baptism of many Burmese, Karens,
and Talings. Two millions of pages of tracts and translations of
Scripture had been printed. The missionaries had also made repeated
journeys into the jungle, where a church of fourteen members had been
organized at a place called Wadesville, in honor of the missionary who
had first preached the Gospel there. At the close of 1831, Mr. Judson
reported on behalf of the Burman mission two hundred and seventeen
persons as baptized during the year; one hundred and thirty-six at
Maulmain, seventy-six at Tavoy, and five at Rangoon.
Soon after returning from Rangoon to Maulmain, he entered upon a new
field of operations. Whenever his close confinement to the work of
translation necessitated a change of air and scene, it was his custom to
take a tour among the wild Karen tribes occupying the jungle back of
Maulmain. His restless spirit was always longing to press into the
interior of the country, and the great Irrawaddy valley being closed to
him, there was nothing left but to penetrate Burmah by the Salwen and
its tributaries, which constitute the second of the river systems by
which the land is drained.
The Karens, as their very name indicates, were _wild_ men. They are
distributed throughout Burmah, Siam, and parts of China, and number from
two hundred thousand to four hundred thousand. They are, perhaps, the
remnants of an aboriginal and subjugated race. They are looked down upon
by the Burmese as inferiors. They speak a different language, and have
distinct race characteristics. Mr. Boardman, who was their first
missionary, thus describes them:
“The Karens are the simplest children of nature I have ever seen. They
have been compared to the aborigines of America, but they are as much
inferior, both in mental and physical strength, as a puny effeminate
Hindoo is inferior to a sturdy Russian, or a British grenadier. Of all
people in the world, the Karens, I believe, are the most timid and
irresolute. And the fable, that when some superior being was
dispensing written languages and books to the various nations of the
earth, a surly dog came along and drove away the Karens and carried
away their books, agrees better with their indolent and timid
character, than half the other fables in vogue among the wise and
learned Burmans do with truth or common sense. These artless people
seem contented, and not unhappy in their native forests, treading the
little paths their fathers trod before them. It is surprising to see
how small a portion of worldly goods satisfies their wants and limits
their pursuits. A box of betel, often no other than the joint of a
bamboo, a little heap of rice, a bamboo basket for each member of the
family to carry burdens in, a cup, a rice and a curry-pot, a
spinning-wheel of most simple structure, a knife and an axe, a change
of simple garments, a mat of leaves, half a dozen water-buckets of
bamboo joints, and a movable fire-place, are nearly all their frail
houses contain to administer to their comfort. With these
accommodations they are more free from worldly cares than the owners
of farms and stalls, and folds, and games, and ships, and stores.
Their only worldly care is to raise a little money to pay their taxes,
under which they groan. Although indolent in the extreme, they are so
remote from the city that they are, I believe, less wicked than most
heathen nations. They have no hopes in a future life, and generally
disdain all allegiance to the prevailing religion of the country. They
are, in general, as careless about the future as about the present,
except those who have heard the Gospel, and those who have been
encouraged by the Burmans to build kyoungs and pagodas, in the hope of
avoiding in the next world the state of hogs, and dogs, and snakes,
and worms. They are too idle to be quarrelsome or ambitious, and too
poor to gamble, or eat, or drink to very great excess. Their minds are
vacant and open for the reception of whatever contains a relish, and
it is not a little gratifying to see so many of them finding that
relish in religion.”
The Karens are peculiarly accessible to the Christian religion. They are
devoid of the pride and dogmatism which characterize the Burmans.
Besides they had a hoary tradition that white messengers would come from
the sea to teach them. When Mr. Boardman first came among them, he found
that they had in their possession a mysterious book.
“On returning from the _zayat_, I found my house thronged with Karens,
and was informed that the Karen teacher had arrived with his much
venerated book. After tea, I called them up, and inquired what they
wished. The teacher stood forward and said, ‘My lord, your humble
servants have come from the wilderness, to lay at your lordship’s feet
a certain book, and to inquire of your lordship whether it is good or
bad, true or false. We, Karens, your humble servants, are an ignorant
race of people; we have no books, no written language, we know nothing
of God or His law. When this book was given us, we were charged to
worship it, which we have done for twelve years. But we knew nothing
of its contents, not so much as in what language it is written. We
have heard of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and are persuaded of its
truth, and we wish to know if this book contains the doctrine of that
Gospel. We are persuaded that your lordship can easily settle the
question, and teach us the true way of becoming happy.’ I requested
them to produce the book, when the old man opened a large basket, and
having removed fold after fold of wrappers, he handed me an old
tattered duodecimo volume. It was none other than the ‘Book of Common
Prayer with the Psalms,’ published at Oxford, England. ‘It is a good
book,’ said I, ‘but it is not good to worship it. You must worship the
God it reveals.’ We spent the evening instructing these simple
foresters in some of the first principles of the Gospel. They listened
with much attention; but the old teacher, who, it seems, is a kind of
sorcerer, appeared disappointed at the thought that he had obtained no
claim to heaven by worshipping the book so many years.
“_September 9, 1828._ The Karens left us for their native forest. It
was a source of regret to us all, that Ko-thah-byoo was not present to
facilitate our intercourse by interpreting for us. Just before
leaving, the old sorcerer put on his jogar’s dress, given him, he
said, nearly twenty years ago, and assumed some self-important airs,
so that one of our native Christians felt it his duty to administer a
gentle reproof, and told him there was no good in wearing such a
dress, and advised him to lay it aside altogether. ‘If,’ said the
sorcerer, ‘God will not be pleased with this dress, I am ready to send
it afloat on yonder stream.’ He then presented his reprover with his
wand, saying he had no further use for it.”
Mr. Boardman was afterward informed that the teacher, on his way home,
tore his jogar’s dress to pieces, and threw it into a brook.
While the Burmans lived in towns and cities, the Karens, like our
Indians, occupied villages far back in the jungle by the side of
mountain streams. Mr. Judson’s attention was first called to them in
Rangoon. “They formed small parties of strange, wild-looking men, clad
in unshapely garments, who from time to time straggled past his
residence.”
He was told that they were as untamable as the wild cow of the
mountains; that they seldom entered a town except on compulsion. They
were nomadic in their habits. A British officer[46] gives a singular
instance of their wildness:
“An officer was lying on his bed in a little room inside the stockaded
police post, which had a narrow gate with an armed sentry on guard;
the Hillman, with the minimum of clothing, was introduced by a smart
sergeant, who coaxed him to approach. He cautiously and distrustfully,
and with great persuasion, advanced stooping to the bed; when close to
it, he gave one long, steady look at the white man; suddenly, with a
yell, threw himself up straight, turned round, dashed out of the room,
through the gate, upsetting the armed sentry, rushed across a little
stream at the bottom of the stockade, and, clambering like a monkey
sheer up the side of the opposite mountain, never stopped till he was
lost to sight in the forest.”
In order to secure permanent churches among the Karens, the first step
of the missionaries was to persuade them to settle down in one place and
form large and well-ordered villages. It was in this way that the town
of Wadesville, before mentioned, sprang into existence. Christianity has
thus proved a powerful agent in civilizing the Karens, and a Christian
village is easily distinguished from a heathen one, not only by its
size, but by its clean, regular streets.
That Mr. Judson’s tours in the Karen jungles were attended with great
fatigue and danger, may be inferred from Mr. Boardman’s “Historical
Sketch of the Karens”:
“The paths which lead to their settlements are so obscurely marked, so
little trodden, and so devious in their course, that a guide is needed
to conduct one from village to village, even over the best part of the
way. Not unfrequently the path leads over precipices, over cliffs and
dangerous declivities, along deep ravines, frequently meandering with
a small streamlet for miles, which we have to cross and recross, and
often to take it for our path, wading through water ankle deep for an
hour or more. There are no bridges, and we often have to ford or swim
over considerable streams, particularly in the rainy season; when,
however, the difficulties of travelling are so great as to render it
next to impossible. Sometimes we have to sleep in the open air in the
woods, where, besides insects and reptiles, the tiger, the rhinoceros,
and the wild elephant render our situation not a little uncomfortable
and dangerous. I have never met with either of these dangerous animals
in the wilderness, but have very frequently seen their recent
footsteps and their haunts, while others meet them. It is but seldom
they do hurt, but it is in their power, and sometimes they have the
disposition. And when, after having encountered so many difficulties,
and endured not a little fatigue in travelling, and been exposed to so
many dangers, we come to a village, we find, perhaps, but twenty or
thirty houses, often only ten, and not unfrequently only one or two
within a range of several miles.”
On these jungle trips he was always accompanied by a band of associates.
He would take with him eight or ten disciples and dispatch them right
and left up the tributaries of the Salwen. Two by two they would
penetrate the wilderness, and meeting their teacher a few days later,
would report to him the results of their labor. The Oriental, under good
leadership, makes a faithful and intrepid follower. And Mr. Judson’s
magnetism of character held his assistants to him with hooks of steel.
He had the gift of getting work, and their best work, out of the
converted natives. Promising boys and young men he took under his own
instruction and qualified them to become teachers and ministers. His
wise and far-reaching views on this primitive and indispensable kind of
ministerial education may be learned from his letters to the
Corresponding Secretary. His example might profitably be followed by
ministers even in our own Christian land:
“MAULMAIN, _January_ 3, 1835.
... “My ideas of a seminary are very different from those of many
persons. I am really unwilling to place young men, that have just
begun to love the Saviour, under teachers who will strive to carry
them through a long course of study, until they are able to unravel
metaphysics, and calculate eclipses, and their souls become as dry as
the one and as dark as the other. I have known several promising young
men completely ruined by this process. Nor is it called for in the
present state of the Church in Burmah. I want to see our young
disciples thoroughly acquainted with the Bible from beginning to end,
and with geography and history, so far as necessary to understand the
Scriptures, and to furnish them with enlarged, enlightened minds. I
would also have them carried through a course of systematic theology,
on the plan, perhaps, of Dwight’s. And I would have them well
instructed in the art of communicating their ideas intelligibly and
acceptably by _word_ and by _writing_. So great is my desire to see
such a system in operation, that I am strongly tempted, as nobody else
is able to do anything just now, to make a beginning; and perhaps
after brother Wade, who is excellently well capacitated for this
department, has settled the Karen language with brother Mason, he will
carry on what I shall begin, having both Karen and Burmese students
under his care.”...
“MAULMAIN, _April_ 7, 1835.
“As to the subject of schools, and the preparation of young men for
the ministry, my views are the same with those you have expressed. But
I doubt the practicability of a ‘seminary’ all of a sudden. In looking
at the subject in its various bearings for a considerable time, I see
but one way; and I would respectfully propose that instructions be
issued to every missionary, at every station, to collect around him a
few boys and young men who may appear promising, and give them such
instruction as may be consistent with his other duties; with a view of
obtaining, in the course of a year or two, a contribution from each
station of at least two or three students, who shall be sent to
Maulmain, or Tavoy, or some other station, and thus gradually form a
seminary, which shall continue to be sustained by supplies from the
several stations, in the same way it was commenced.”
He had a characteristic way of paying his assistants, as may be learned
from a letter of advice which he sends to Mr. Mason, who had just taken
Mr. Boardman’s place at Tavoy:
“But I can assure you, from long experience, that you can seldom, if
ever, satisfy Burmans, Talings, or Karens, by giving them stated,
specified, known wages. However much it be, they will soon be
murmuring for ‘more ’bacco,’ like their betters. Few of the natives
that I pay know how much they get. No word on the subject ever passes
between me and them. I contrive, at unequal intervals, to pop a paper
of rupees—five, ten, or fifteen—into their hands, in the most
arbitrary way, and without saying a word. But I take accurate note of
every payment, and at the end of the year, or of the period for which
they are employed, I manage to have paid them such a sum as amounts to
so much per month, the rate agreed upon with my brethren. This plan
occasions less trouble than one is apt to think at first; at any rate,
not so much trouble as to be in hot water all the time about their
‘_wages_’. However, I only show you my anvil. Hammer your tools on it,
or on another of your own invention, as you like.”
The following extracts from Mr. Judson’s journal describe his life in
the jungle. They relate to his second tour among the Karens:
“WADESVILLE, _January_ 1, 1832.
“We set out from Maulmain, as purposed in my last, and leaving the
Salwen on the west, and the Ataran on the east, we followed the Gyne
and the Dah-gyne, as it is termed above its confluence with the
Houng-ta-rau, which falls in from the east, and in three days reached
this place, the distance being, by conjecture, above eighty miles.
Accounts, on first arriving, are rather unfavorable.
“_January 11._ Continued to work our way up the river, frequently
impeded by the trees which had fallen across the water, and through
which we were obliged to cut a passage for the boat. At night, came to
a small cluster of houses, where we found an elderly woman, who with
her daughter formerly applied for baptism, but was advised to wait.
She now received us joyfully, and united with her daughter and
son-in-law in begging earnestly that their baptism might be no longer
delayed. I directed them to meet me at Kwan-bee, about a mile distant,
where I formerly baptized nine disciples, most of them from Tee-pah’s
village, a few miles to the west.
“_January 12._ Proceeded to Kwan-bee. A few people came together on
the beach to stare at us, and we had a little meeting for worship
before breakfast. We then proceeded to investigate the case of
Loo-boo, who was reported to have joined, when his child was extremely
ill, in making an offering to a nat (demon) for its recovery. We at
first thought of suspending him from the fellowship of the church; but
he made such acknowledgments and promises that we finally forgave him,
and united in praying that God would forgive him. We do not hear of
any other case of transgression; but, on the contrary, in two
instances of extreme illness, the disciples resisted all the
importunities of their friends to join in the usual offerings to
propitiate the demons who are supposed to rule over diseases. In one
instance, the illness terminated in death; and I have to lament the
loss of Pan-mlai-mlo, who was the leader of the little church in this
quarter, and the first of these northern Karens who, we hope, has
arrived safe in heaven. I ought, perhaps, to except the case of a man
and wife near the head of the Patah River, who, though not baptized,
and _never seen by any foreign missionary_, both died in the faith;
the man enjoining it on his surviving friends to have the ‘View of the
Christian Religion’ laid on his breast and buried with him.
“Some of the disciples have gone to Tee-pah’s village to announce my
arrival; and while others are putting up a small shed on the bank, I
sit in the boat and pen these notices.
“In the evening, held a meeting in the shed, at which several of the
villagers were present.
“_January 13._ My people returned from Tee-pah’s village, bringing
with them several disciples, and one woman, the wife of Loo-boo, who
presented herself for baptism, with twelve strings of all manner of
beads around her neck, and a due proportion of ear, arm, and leg
ornaments! and, strange to say, she was examined and approved, without
one remark on the subject of her dress. The truth is, we quite forgot
it, being occupied and delighted with her uncommonly prompt and
intelligent replies. In the afternoon, sent the boat back to Maulmain,
with directions to proceed up the Salwen, having concluded to cross
thither by land. In the evening, had a pretty full shed; but the
inhabitants of the place do not appear very favorably inclined.
“_January 14._ The three persons mentioned on the 11th presented
themselves, with the decorated lady of yesterday. Being formerly
prevented by illness from animadverting on female dress in this
district, as I did in the Dah-gyne, I took an opportunity of ‘holding
forth’ on that subject before breakfast; and it was truly amusing and
gratifying to see the said lady, and another applicant for baptism,
and a Christian woman who accompanied them, divest themselves on the
spot of every article that could be deemed merely ornamental; and this
they did with evident pleasure, and good resolution to persevere in
adherence to the plain dress system. We then held a church-meeting,
and having baptized the four applicants, crossed the Leing-bwai on a
bridge of logs, and set out for Tee-pah’s village, accompanied by a
long train of men, women, children, and dogs. Toward night we arrived
at that place, and effected a lodgment in Tee-pah’s house. In the
evening, had a pretty full assembly.
“_January 15. Lord’s day._ In the forenoon I held a meeting for the
disciples only, and, as I seldom see them, endeavored to tell them all
I knew. Had more or less company through the day. In the evening, a
crowded house. Tee-pah’s father, a venerable old man, came forward,
and witnessed a good confession. Some others, also, begin to give
evidence that they have received the truth into good and honest
hearts.
“_January 16._ In the morning Tee-pah’s mother joined the party of
applicants for baptism, and her younger daughter-in-law, whose husband
was formerly baptized. But Tee-pah himself, though convinced of the
truth, and giving some evidence of grace, can not resolve at once on
entire abstinence from rum, though he has never been in the habit of
intoxication. In the course of the forenoon we held a church-meeting,
and unanimously received and baptized eight individuals from this and
a small village two miles distant.
“Took an affectionate leave of the people, and prosecuted our journey
toward the Salwen. Came to Zat-kyee’s small village, where one man and
his wife embraced the truth at first hearing; and the man said, that
as there was no suitable place for baptizing at that village, he would
follow on, until he could say, ‘See, here is water,’ etc. I gave him
leave to follow, not with that view, but to listen further to the
blessed Gospel. At night, reached Shway-bau’s village, where they
afforded us a shelter rather reluctantly. In the evening, however, had
an interesting, though small assembly.
“_January 17._ Pursued our way, and soon came in sight of the Salwen,
the boundary between the British and Burmese territories. Arrived at
Poo-ah’s small village, consisting of three houses, not one of which
had a leaf of covering. No one welcomed our arrival, so we sat down on
the ground. Presently the preaching of one of the Karen disciples so
wrought upon one of the householders, a Burman with a Karen wife, that
he invited me to sit on his floor; and my people spread a mat
overhead, which, with my umbrella, made me quite at home. The
householder, in the interval of his work, and one of the neighbors,
began to listen, and were present at evening worship.
“_January 18._ Shway-hlah, the man who followed us from the village
day before yesterday, appearing to be sincere in his desire to profess
the Christian religion, we held a meeting, though four disciples only
could be present; and on balloting for his reception, there was one
dissentient vote, so that I advised him to wait longer. He appeared to
be much disappointed and grieved; said that he should perhaps not live
to see me again, and have an opportunity of being initiated into the
religion of Jesus Christ; and after a while the two Karen disciples
insisting that he should be re-examined, we gave him a second trial,
when, on cross-questioning him in the Burman language, which he
understood pretty well (for we began to suspect the Karen interpreters
of being a little partial to their countrymen), some circumstances
leaked out which turned the scale in his favor, and he gained a clear
vote. After his baptism, he went on his way rejoicing, resolving to
tell all his neighbors what ‘great things the Lord had done for him.’
At morning worship, our host and the neighbor mentioned above,
appeared to be very near the kingdom of heaven, but the other people
of this village decidedly reject the Gospel.
“_January 24._ Set out for Bau-nah’s village, two days’ journey; but
after travelling an hour over dreadful mountains and in the bed of a
rivulet, where the water was sometimes knee-deep, and full of sharp,
slippery rocks, when my bare feet, unaccustomed to such usage, soon
became so sore that I could hardly step; and having ascertained that
such was the only road for many miles, I felt that I had done all that
lay in my power toward carrying the Gospel farther in this direction,
and therefore relinquished the attempt, and reluctantly returned to
Chanbau’s village. Not so many present at evening worship as
yesterday. The seed sown here appears, in some instances, to have
fallen on good ground; but our short stay deprives us of the pleasure
of seeing fruit brought to perfection.
“_January 27._ This little village may be said to have embraced the
Gospel. At one time we had eight applicants for baptism; but two only
were finally received, Ko Shway and his wife Nah Nyah-ban. They both
understood the Burmese language pretty well; and the woman possesses
the best intellect, as well as the strongest faith, that I have found
among this people. I invited them, though rather advanced in life, to
come to Maulmain, and learn to read, promising to support them a few
months; and they concluded to accept the invitation next rainy season.
They followed us all the way to the boat, and the woman stood looking
after us until we were out of sight.
“In the afternoon, arrived again at the Yen-being River, and sent some
of my people to a neighboring village two miles distant. The villagers
listened a while, and then sent a respectful message, saying that they
believed the religion of Jesus Christ, that it was most excellent,
etc., but begged that the teacher would go about his business, and not
come to disturb them.
“_January 30._ In the morning, held a church meeting by the
river-side, and received the last two applicants. The chief of the
village, Yet-dau’s father, and several other persons, are very
favorably impressed. Not a word of opposition to be heard. Took an
affectionate leave of this little church, now consisting of six
members, and went down the river on the west side of Kanlong Island,
having come up on the east side from Poo-ah’s village. Entered the
Mai-zeen rivulet, in Burmese territory, and landed at Thah-pe-nike’s
village, where we spent the day. In the evening had a noisy assembly.
Some professed to believe, but pleaded the fear of Government as an
excuse for not prosecuting their inquiries. One young man, Kah-lah by
name, drank in the truth, and promised to come to Maulmain as soon as
he could get free from some present engagements.
“_January 31._ Continued our course down the river, and landed on the
west side, at Ti-yah-ban’s village. The chief is said to be very much
in favor of the Christian religion, but, unfortunately, had gone up
the river, and his people did not dare to think in his absence. In the
afternoon came to the ‘upper village,’ the first we found on Kanlong.
They listened well, but, about sunset, took a sudden turn, and would
give us no further hearing. We removed, therefore, to Yai-thah-kau’s
village. Some of my people went ashore. The chief was absent, and the
principal remaining personage, a Buddhist Karen, said that when the
English Government enforced their religion at the point of the sword,
and he had seen two or three suffer death for not embracing it, he
would begin to consider, and not before; that, however, if the teacher
desired to come to the village, he could not be inhospitable, but
would let him come. I sent back word that I would not come, but, as he
loved falsehood and darkness, I would leave him to live therein all
his days, and finally go the dark way; and all my people drew off to
the boat. While we were deliberating what to do, something touched the
old man’s heart; we heard the sound of footsteps advancing in the
dark, and presently a voice. ‘My lord, please to come to the village.’
‘Don’t call me lord. I am no lord, nor ruler of this world.’ ‘What
must I call you? Teacher, I suppose.’ ‘Yes, but not your teacher, for
you love to be taught falsehood, not truth.’ ‘Teacher, I have heard a
great deal against this religion, and how can I know at once what is
right and what is wrong? Please to come and let me listen attentively
to your words.’ I replied not, but rose and followed the old man. He
took me to his house, spread a cloth for me to sit on, manifested
great respect, and listened with uncommon attention. When I prepared
to go, he said, ‘But you will not go before we have performed an act
of worship and prayer?’ We accordingly knelt down, and, during prayer,
the old man could not help, now and then, repeating the close of a
sentence with emphasis, seeming to imply that, in his mind, I had not
quite done it justice. After I was gone, he said that it was a great
thing to change one’s religion; that he stood quite alone in these
parts; but that, if some of his acquaintance would join him, he would
not be behind.
“_February 2._ Went round the northern extremity of Kanlong, and up
the eastern channel, to Poo-ah’s village, where we found the two
disciples whom we sent away on the 21st ultimo. They have met with a
few hopeful inquirers. Some who live near are expected here to-morrow.
In the meantime, went down the river a few miles, to Poo-door’s
village. My people preceded me, as usual, and about noon I followed
them. But I found that the village was inhabited chiefly by Buddhist
Karens, and, of course, met with a poor reception. After showing
myself and trying to conciliate the children and dogs, who cried and
barked in concert, I left word that, if any wished to hear me preach,
I would come again in the evening, and then relieved the people of my
presence, and retreated to the boat. At night the disciples returned,
without any encouragement. One of them, however, accidentally met the
chief, who said that if I came he would not refuse to hear what I had
to say. On this half invitation I set out, about sunset, and never met
with worse treatment at a Karen village. The chief would not even
invite us into his house, but sent us off to an old deserted place,
where the floor was too frail to support us; so we sat down on the
ground. He then invited us nearer, and sat down before us, with a few
confidential friends. He had evidently forbidden all his people to
approach us, otherwise some would have come, out of curiosity. And
what a hard, suspicious face did he exhibit! And how we had to coax
him to join us in a little regular worship! It was at least an hour
before he would consent at all. But in the course of worship his
features softened, and his mind ‘crossed over,’ as he expressed it, to
our religion; and I returned to the boat inclined to believe that all
things are possible with God.
“_February 3._ Some of my people who slept at the village returned
with the report that the place is divided against itself. Some are for
and some against us. The opposition is rather violent. One man
threatens to turn his aged father out of doors if he embraces the
Christian religion. Perhaps this is not to be regretted. Satan never
frets without cause. Turned the boat’s head again to the north, and
retraced our way to Poo-ah’s village, where we spent the rest of the
day. But the two hopeful inquirers that I left here on the 29th have
made no advance.
“_February 9._ Visited Wen-gyan, Pah-len, and Zong-ing, Taling
villages, where we found a few Karens. At the latter place, collected
a small assembly for evening worship. A few professed to believe;
others were violent in opposing.
“_February 10._ Visited several Taling villages in succession. In the
afternoon, reached the confluence of the Salwen and the Gyne, upon
which we turned into the latter, and went up to Taranah, where Ko Shan
resides, as mentioned December 29. The inhabitants of this place, like
the Talings in general, are inveterately opposed to the Gospel, and Ko
Shan has had very little success. Two or three individuals, however,
appear to be favorably impressed; but the opposition is so strong that
no one dares to come forward.
“_February 11._ Left Ko Shan, with the promise of sending him aid as
soon as possible, and in the afternoon reached Maulmain, after an
absence of six weeks, during which I have baptized twenty-five, and
registered about the same number of hopeful inquirers. I find that
brother and sister Jones have arrived from Rangoon, brother Kincaid
having concluded to take their place.”
But this second tour among the Karens was soon followed by a third, of
which a brief account is given in Mr. Judson’s words:
“_February 29, 1832._ Left Maulmain for the Karen villages on the
Salwen, accompanied by Ko Myat-kyau, who speaks Karen, three other
Taling disciples, and the two Karen assistants, Panlah and Chet-thing.
The other Karen assistant, Tau-nah, I expect to meet at Chummerah,
according to the arrangement of February 4. At night, reached
Tong-eing, and found that the few Karens near the place had concluded
to reject the Gospel.
“_March 1._ Touched at the village above Nengyan, and found that the
inhabitants have come to the same conclusion, ‘till the next rainy
season.’ Passed by all the Taling towns, and touched at the village
below Rajah’s, where we found that the people still adhere to the new
Karen prophet, Aree-maday. Moung Zuthee unfortunately encountered a
very respectable Burman priest, with a train of novices, who, not
relishing his doctrine, fell upon him, and gave him a sound beating.
The poor man fled to me in great dismay, and, I am sorry to say, some
wrath, begging leave to assemble our forces and seize the aggressor,
for the purpose of delivering him up to justice. I did assemble them;
and, all kneeling down, I praised God that He had counted one of our
number worthy to suffer a little for His Son’s sake; and prayed that
He would give us a spirit of forgiveness, and our persecutors every
blessing, temporal and spiritual; after which we left the field of
battle with cool and happy minds. Reached Rajah’s late at night. He
remains firm, though not followed by any of his people. His wife,
however, and eldest daughter, after evening worship, declared
themselves on the side of Christ.
“_March 2._ Spent the forenoon in instructing and examining the wife
and daughter. The former we approved, but rejected the latter, as not
yet established in the Christian faith. After the baptism, Rajah and
his wife united in presenting their younger children, that I might lay
my hands on them and bless them. The elder children, being capable of
discerning good from evil, came of their own accord, and held up their
folded hands in the act of homage to their parents’ God, while we
offered a prayer that they might obtain grace to become true
disciples, and receive the holy ordinance of baptism. At noon, left
this interesting family, and proceeded up the river, stopping
occasionally, and preaching wherever we could catch a listening ear.
Entered the Mai-san, and landed at the village above Rai-ngai’s, which
Ko Myat-kyau has formerly visited. In the evening, had two very
attentive hearers.
“_March 3._ The two attentive hearers were up nearly all night,
drinking in the truth. One of them became urgent for baptism; and on
hearing his present and past experience, from the time he first
listened to the Gospel, we concluded to receive him into the
fellowship of the church. His wife is very favorably disposed, but not
so far advanced in knowledge and faith. Returned to the Salwen, and
made a long pull for Poo-door’s village; but late in the evening,
being still at a considerable distance, were obliged to coil ourselves
up in our small boat, there being no house in these parts, and the
country swarming with tigers at this season, so that none of us
ventured to sleep on shore.
“_March 4. Lord’s day._ Uncoiled ourselves with the first dawn of
light, and soon after sunrise took possession of a fine flat log, in
the middle of Poo-door’s village, a mile from the river, where we held
forth on the duty of refraining from work on this the Lord’s day, and
attending divine worship. Some listened to our words; and in the
forenoon we succeeded in collecting a small assembly. After worship,
the old man mentioned formerly, whose son threatened to turn him out
of doors, came forward, with his wife; and having both witnessed a
good confession, we received them into our fellowship. Poo-door
himself absent on a journey; but his wife ready to become a Christian.
”_March 10._ Went on to the mouth of the Yen-being, and as far as the
great log, which prevents a boat from proceeding farther.
Providentially met with Wah-hai, of whom I have heard a good report
for some time. He was happy to see us, and we were happy to examine
and baptize him. We then visited the village, whence they formerly
sent a respectful message, desiring us to go about our business, and
found some attentive listeners.
“_March 11. Lord’s day._ Again took the main river, and soon fell in
with a boat, containing several of the listeners of yesterday, among
whom was one man who declared his resolution to enter the new
religion. We had scarcely parted with this boat when we met another,
full of men, coming down the stream; and, on hailing to know whether
they wished to hear the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, an elderly
man, the chief of the party, replied that he had already heard much of
the Gospel, and there was nothing he desired more than to have a
meeting with the teacher. Our boats were soon side by side, where,
after a short engagement, the old man struck his colors, and begged us
to take him into port, where he could make a proper surrender of
himself to Christ. We accordingly went to the shore, and spent several
hours very delightfully, under the shade of the overhanging trees, and
the banner of the love of Jesus. The old man’s experience was so
clear, and his desire for baptism so strong, that, though
circumstances prevented our gaining so much testimony of his good
conduct since believing as we usually require, we felt that it would
be wrong to refuse his request. A lad in his company, the person
mentioned January 30, desired also to be baptized. But, though he had
been a preacher to the old man, his experience was not so decided and
satisfactory; so that we rejected him for the present. The old man
went on his way, rejoicing aloud, and declaring his resolution to make
known the eternal God and the dying love of Jesus, all along the banks
of the Yoon-za-len, his native stream.
“The dying words of an aged man of God, when he waved his withered,
death-struck arm, and exclaimed, ‘_The best of all is, God is with
us_,’ I feel in my very soul. Yes, the great Invisible is in these
Karen wilds. That mighty Being who heaped up these craggy rocks, and
reared these stupendous mountains, and poured out these streams in all
directions, and scattered immortal beings throughout these deserts—He
is present by the influence of his Holy Spirit, and accompanies the
sound of the Gospel with converting, sanctifying power. ‘_The best of
all is, God is with us._’
“‘In _these_ deserts let me labor,
On _these_ mountains let me tell
How he died—the blessed Saviour,
To redeem a world from hell.’
“_March 12._ Alas! how soon is our joy turned into mourning! Mah
Nyah-ban, of whom we all had such a high opinion, joined her husband,
not many days after their baptism, in making an offering to the demon
of diseases, on account of the sudden, alarming illness of their
youngest child; and they have remained ever since in an impenitent,
prayerless state! They now refuse to listen to our exhortation, and
appear to be given over to hardness of heart and blindness of mind. I
was therefore obliged, this morning, to pronounce the sentence of
suspension, and leave them to the mercy and judgment of God. Their
case is greatly to be deplored. They are quite alone in this quarter,
have seen no disciples since we left them, and are surrounded with
enemies, some from Maulmain, who have told them all manner of lies,
and used every effort to procure and perpetuate their apostasy. When I
consider the evidence of grace which they formerly gave, together with
all the palliating circumstances of the case, I have much remaining
hope that they will yet be brought to repentance. I commend them to
the prayers of the faithful, and the notice of any missionary who may
travel that way. In consequence of the advantage which Satan has
gained in this village, the six hopeful inquirers whom we left here
have all fallen off, so that we are obliged to retire with the
dispirited feelings of beaten troops.
“I respectfully request and sincerely hope that this article may be
neither suppressed nor polished. The principle of ‘double selection,’
as it is termed, that is, one selection by the missionary and another
by the publishing committee, has done great mischief, and contributed
more to impair the credit of missionary accounts than anything else.
We in the East, knowing how extensively this principle is acted on, do
scarcely give any credit to the statements which appear in some
periodicals, and the public at large are beginning to open their eyes
to the same thing. It is strange to me that missionaries and
publishing committees do not see the excellency and efficacy of the
system pursued by the inspired writers—that of exhibiting the good and
the bad alike. Nothing contributes more to establish the authenticity
of the writing. A temporary advantage gained by suppressing truth is a
real defeat in the end, and therefore μονη θυτεον αληθεια.
“_March 27._ Ran down the river without touching at any place by the
way. At night reached Maulmain, after an absence of nearly a month,
during which I have baptized nineteen, making eighty Karen Christians
in connection with the Maulmain station, of whom one is dead and two
are suspended from communion. Am glad, yet sorry, to find that brother
Bennett arrived a fortnight ago from Calcutta, with a complete font of
types, and yesterday sent a boat to call me, which, however, passed us
on the way. Must I, then, relinquish my intention of making another
trip up the river before the rains set in? Must I relinquish for many
months, and perhaps forever, the pleasure of singing as I go,—
“‘In these deserts let me labor,
On these mountains let me tell’?
Truly, the tears fall as I write.”
At the close of the year 1832 Mr. Judson reported one hundred and
forty-three baptisms: three at Rangoon, seventy at Maulmain, sixty-seven
at Tavoy, and three at Mergui. This made five hundred and sixteen who
had been baptized since his arrival in Burmah, only seventeen of whom
had been finally excluded.
On the first day of the new year a party of new missionaries arrived in
Maulmain from America. These reinforcements seem to have come in
response to a stirring appeal for help sent by the missionaries nearly a
year before:
_To the American Baptist Board for Foreign Missions._
“MAULMAIN, _March_ 4, 1832.
“RESPECTED FATHERS AND BRETHREN: At our monthly concert this morning,
it was unanimously agreed that a joint letter should be addressed to
you on the importance of sending out more missionaries to this part of
the heathen world. Being, every one of us, exceedingly pressed for
want of time, we can not stop to prepare an elaborate statement, but
must come at once to the point in hand.
“We are in distress. We see thousands perishing around us. We see
mission stations opening on every side, the fields growing whiter
every day, and no laborers to reap the harvest. If each one of us
could divide himself into three parts, happy would he be, not only to
take leave of his native land and beloved connections at home, but of
still nearer and more intimate connections. We want instantly to send
aid to the Tavoy station, where brother Mason is laboring, almost
alone. We want instantly to send a missionary to Mergui, a pleasant,
healthful town, south of Tavoy, where a small church has been raised
up, and left in charge of a native pastor. Our hearts bleed when we
think of poor Mergui and the Karens in that vicinity, many of whom are
ready to embrace the Gospel and be saved. But how can we allow
ourselves to think of that small place, when the whole kingdom of Siam
lies in our rear, and the city of Bangkok, at once a port for ships
and the seat of imperial government? We want instantly to dispatch one
of our number to Bangkok. One? There ought, at this moment, to be
three, at least, on their way to that important place. Another ought
to be on his way to Yah-heing, a large town east of Maulmain, from
which there is a fine river leading down to Bangkok; there are many
Karens at Yah-heing. The Christian religion is creeping that way by
means of our Karen disciples. North of Yah-heing and the Thoung-yen
River, the boundary of the British territory on that side, lies the
kingdom or principality of Zenmai. There have been several
communications between the Government of Maulmain and Lah-bong, the
present capital of that country. Moung Shway-bwen, one of our
disciples, formerly with brother Boardman at Tavoy, is a nephew of the
prince, or deputy prince, of that country, and is anxious to return
thither. But how can we send him, a very young man, without a
missionary? If we had a spare missionary, what a fine opportunity for
introducing the Gospel into that central nation! It would open the way
to other neighboring nations, not even mentioned in foreign
geographies, and even to the borders of China and Tartary. Between
Maulmain and Zenmai are various tribes of Karens, Toung-thoos,
Lah-wahs, etc. The former are literally crying out aloud for a written
language, that they may read in their own tongue the wonderful works
of God. From the banks of the Yoon-za-len, on the north-west, the
celebrated prophet of the Karens has repeatedly sent down messages and
presents to us, begging that we would come and instruct his people in
the Christian religion. But how can we think of supplying that
quarter, when the old kingdom of Arracan, now under British rule, and
speaking the same language with the Burmese, is crying, in the whole
length and breadth of her coast, for some one to come to her rescue?
In that country are one or two hundred converts, and one country-born
missionary, from the Serampore connection, who is laboring without any
prospect of reinforcement from Bengal, and desirous that one of us
should join him. Kyouk Phyoo, lately established by the English, is
esteemed a healthy place. The commandant is disposed to welcome a
missionary, and afford him every facility. Our hearts bleed when we
think of Kyouk Phyoo, and the poor inquirers that one of our number
lately left there, ready to embrace the Christian religion, if he
would only promise to remain or send a successor. From Kyouk Phyoo the
way is open into the four provinces of Arracan, namely, Rek-keing.
Chedubah, Ramree, and Sandoway; and what a grand field for our tracts,
and the New Testament, now in press! Of all the places that now cry
around us, we think that Kyouk Phyoo cries the loudest. No; we listen
again, and the shrill cry of golden Ava rises above them all. Oh, Ava!
Ava! with thy metropolitan walls and gilded turrets, thou sittest a
lady among these Eastern nations; but our hearts bleed for thee! In
thee is no Christian church, no missionary of the cross.
“We have lately heard of the death of poor Prince Myen Zeing. He died
without any missionary or Christian to guide his groping soul on the
last dark journey. Where has that journey terminated? Is he in the
bright world of Paradise, or in the burning lake? He had attained some
knowledge of the way of salvation. Perhaps, in his last hours, he
turned away his eye from the gold and silver idols around his couch,
and looked to the crucified Saviour. But those who first taught him
were far away; so he died, and was buried like a heathen. It is true
that the one of our number who formerly lived at Ava would not be
tolerated during the present reign; but another missionary would,
doubtless, be well received, and, if prudent, be allowed to remain.
Two missionaries ought, at this moment, to be studying the language
_in Ava_.
“O God of mercy, have mercy on Ava, and Chageing, and A-ma-ra-poo-ra.
Have mercy on Pugan and Prome (poor Prome!), on Toung-oo, on the port
of Bassein, and on all the towns between Ava and Rangoon. Have mercy
on old Pegu and the surrounding district. Have mercy on the four
provinces of Arracan. Have mercy on the inhabitants of the banks of
the Yoon-za-len, the Salwen, the Thoung-yen, and the Gyne. Have mercy
on all the Karens, the Toung-thoos, the Lah-wahs, and other tribes,
whose names, though unknown in Christian lands, are known to Thee.
Have mercy on Zen-mai, on Lah-bong, Myeing-yoon-gyee, and Yay-heing.
Have mercy on Bangkok, and the kingdom of Siam, and all the other
principalities that lie on the north and east. Have mercy on poor
little Mergui, and Pah-lan, and Yay, and Lah-meing, and Nah-zaroo, and
Amherst, and the Island of Ba-loo, with its villages of Talings and
Karens. Have mercy on our mission stations at Tavoy, Maulmain, and
Rangoon, and our sub-stations at Mergui, Chummerah, and Newville. Pour
out Thine Holy Spirit upon us and our assistants, upon our infant
churches and our schools. Aid us in the solemn and laborious work of
translating and printing Thine holy, inspired word in the languages of
these heathen. Oh, keep our faith from failing, our spirits from
sinking, and our mortal frames from giving way prematurely under the
influence of the climate and the pressure of our labors. Have mercy on
the Board of Missions; and grant that our beloved and respected
fathers and brethren may be aroused to greater effort, and go forth
personally into all parts of the land, and put in requisition all the
energies of Thy people. Have mercy on the churches in the United
States; hold back the curse of Meroz; continue and perpetuate the
heavenly revivals of religion which they have begun to enjoy; and may
the time soon come when no church shall dare to sit under Sabbath and
sanctuary privileges without having one of their number to represent
them on heathen ground. Have mercy on the theological seminaries, and
hasten the time when one-half of all who yearly enter the ministry
shall be taken by Thine Holy Spirit, and _driven_ into the wilderness,
feeling a sweet necessity laid on them, and the precious love of
Christ and of souls constraining them. Hear, O Lord, all the prayers
which are this day presented in all the monthly concerts throughout
the habitable globe, and hasten the millennial glory, for which we are
all longing, and praying, and laboring. Adorn Thy beloved one in her
bridal vestments, that she may shine forth in immaculate beauty and
celestial splendor. Come, O our Bridegroom; come, Lord Jesus; come
quickly. Amen and Amen.
“(Signed),
“C. BENNETT,
“OLIVER T. CUTTER,
“JOHN TAYLOR JONES,
“A. JUDSON,
“J. WADE.”
A letter from one of the new-comers[47] to her parents gives us an
interesting glimpse of our missionary’s personal habits:
“Our intercourse with Mr. Judson is of a very pleasing nature, and we
feel happy to be permitted in the least degree to take off the edge of
his loneliness. It is affecting to hear his petitions for a long life,
to labor among the heathen, mingled as they are with panting
aspirations after heaven. He seems uniformly seriously cheerful. His
days and nights are spent in a room adjoining the native chapel, where
he spends all his time, except that devoted to meals (twice a day) and
exercise, and generally he has a sort of social conversation with some
one of the mission families in the evening. He is confining himself as
closely as possible to the completion of his translation of the
Scriptures. His exhortations to us all to exercise, are practically
enforced by his own example. He walks very early in the morning, rain
or shine; also after sunset. He told me that he had no doubt that so
much loss of health and life to foreigners in this climate is
principally due to their negligence on this point.”
But the time had at last come when Mr. Judson’s long domestic solitude
was to end. Under date of April 10, 1834, we find in his journal the
following important entry:
“Was married to Mrs. Sarah H. Boardman, who was born at Alstead, New
Hampshire, November 4, 1803, the eldest daughter of Ralph and Abiah O.
Hall—married to George D. Boardman, July 4, 1825—left a widow February
11, 1831, with one surviving child, George D. Boardman, born August
18, 1828.”
Nearly eight years of loneliness had passed since he laid his beloved
Ann beneath the hopia-tree. He had arrived at the age of forty-six, when
he married Mrs. Boardman. He found in her a kindred spirit. She had
spent the three years of her widowhood in heroic toil among the Karens
at Tavoy, and had turned persistently away from the urgent appeals of
her friends in America to return home for her own sake and the sake of
her little boy. She had resolved to continue her husband’s labors alone,
and thus wrote concerning her purpose:
“As to my future walk, I feel, I trust, a desire to be guided by
unerring Wisdom. I have never been able to think of abandoning forever
the cause in which my beloved husband rejoiced to wear out his feeble
frame and sink into a premature grave. The death-bed scene has
inspired me with a fortitude, or I would hope, faith unknown before,
and encircled the missionary enterprise with a glory not until then
perceived.”
And again she says:
“When I first stood by the grave of my husband, I thought that I must
go home with George. But these poor, inquiring, and Christian Karens,
and the school-boys, and the Burmese Christians, would then be left
without any one to instruct them; and the poor, stupid Tavoyans would
go on in the road to death, with no one to warn them of their danger.
How then, oh, how can I go? We shall not be separated long. A few more
years, and we shall all meet in yonder blissful world, whither those
we love have gone before us.”
And so for three years this beautiful and intrepid woman continued her
husband’s work. She was the guiding spirit of the mission. She pointed
out the way of life to the Karen inquirers who came in from the
wilderness. She conducted her schools with such tact and ability that
when, afterward, an appropriation was obtained from the English
Government for schools throughout the provinces, it was expressly
stipulated that they should be “conducted on the plan of Mrs. Boardman’s
schools at Tavoy.” She even made long missionary tours into the Karen
jungles. With her little boy carried by her followers at her side, she
climbed the mountain, traversed the marsh, forded the stream, and
threaded the forest. On one of these trips she sent back a
characteristic message to Mrs. Mason at Tavoy: “Perhaps you had better
send the chair, as it is convenient to be carried over the streams when
they are deep. You will laugh when I tell you that I have forded all the
smaller ones.”
Mrs. E. C. Judson relates the following incident concerning her:[48]
“A single anecdote is related by Captain F——, a British officer,
stationed at Tavoy; and he used to dwell with much unction on the
lovely apparition which once greeted him among those wild, dreary
mountains. He had left Tavoy, accompanied by a few followers, I think
on a hunting expedition, and had strolled far into the jungle. The
heavy rains, which deluge this country in the summer, had not yet
commenced; but they were near at hand, and during the night had sent
an earnest of their coming, which was anything but agreeable. All
along his path hung the dripping trailers, and beneath his feet were
the roots of vegetables, half-bared, and half-imbedded in mud; while
the dark clouds, with the rain almost incessantly pouring from them,
and the crazy clusters of bamboo huts, which appeared here and there
in the gloomy waste, and were honored by the name of village, made up
a scene of desolation absolutely indescribable. A heavy shower coming
up as he approached a _zayat_ by the wayside, and far from even one of
those primitive villages, he hastily took refuge beneath the roof.
Here, in no very good humor with the world, especially Asiatic jungles
and tropic rains, he sulkily ‘whistled for want of thought,’ and
employed his eyes in watching the preparations for his breakfast.
“‘Uh! what wretched corners the world has, hidden beyond its oceans
and behind its trees!’
“Just as he had made this sage mental reflection, he was startled by
the vision of a fair, smiling face in front of the _zayat_, the
property of a dripping figure, which seemed to his surprised
imagination to have stepped that moment from the clouds. But the party
of wild Karen followers which gathered round her had a very human air;
and the slight burdens they bore, spoke of human wants and human
cares. The lady seemed as much surprised as himself; but she
courtesied with ready grace, as she made some pleasant remark in
English; and then turned to retire. Here was a dilemma. He could not
suffer the lady to go out into the rain, but—his miserable
accommodations, and still more miserable breakfast! He hesitated and
stammered; but her quick apprehension had taken in all at a glance,
and she at once relieved him from his embarrassment. Mentioning her
name and errand, she added, smiling, that the emergencies of the
wilderness were not new to her; and now she begged leave to put her
own breakfast with his, and make up a pleasant morning party. Then
beckoning to her Karens, she spoke a few unintelligible words, and
disappeared under a low shed—a mouldering appendage of the _zayat_.
She soon returned with the same sunny face, and in dry clothing; and
very pleasant indeed was the interview between the pious officer and
the lady-missionary. They were friends afterward; and the
circumstances of their first meeting proved a very charming
reminiscence.”
Soon after their marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Judson were compelled to part
with little George Boardman. He was but six years old, and yet had
reached an age when a child begins to be, in a peculiar sense, the
companion of his parents. But the children of Anglo-Saxon residents in
the East have to be sent at an early age toward the setting sun;
otherwise they are in danger of death under the debilitating influence
of the Oriental climate; or if they get their growth at all, are liable
to feebleness of mind and body. Such a separation between parent and
child can not but be peculiarly distressing to the missionary. He
devotes himself for life and expects to die on the field, and thus the
parting bids fair to be final. Other Europeans and Americans are merely
temporary residents in the East, and though also compelled to send their
children home, may reasonably hope to clasp them in their arms once more
after a short separation. The missionary’s child, on the other hand,
must be permanently consigned to the care of distant strangers. This is,
perhaps, the keenest suffering that falls to his lot. Who can fail to
drop a tear over the scene of the Comstocks parting with their children
as thus described by Dr. Kincaid:
“I shall never forget the parting scene of brother Comstock and his
wife with their children, when we sailed from the shores of Arracan.
They had made up their minds to entrust us with their two children, on
account of the difficulty of educating them in a heathen land. We were
together one day, at their house, when word came that the ship was
ready to sail, and we must prepare to embark immediately. Upon the
arrival of this message, which we had been expecting, Mrs. Comstock
arose from her seat, took her two children, one in each hand, and
walked with them toward a grove of tamarind trees near the house. When
she had walked some little distance, she paused a moment, looked at
each of her children with all a mother’s love, and imprinted an
affectionate kiss upon the forehead of each. She then raised her eyes
to heaven, silently invoked a blessing on their heads; returned to the
house, and delivering her children into my hands, said, ‘Brother
Kincaid, _this I do for my Saviour_.’
“Brother Comstock then took his two children by the hand, and led them
from the house toward the ship, while that tender mother gazed upon
them, as they walked away, _for the last time_. She saw them no more
on earth. God grant that she may meet them in heaven! Brother Comstock
accompanied his two children to the ship, which lay about two miles
off in the bay. When we had descended to the cabin, he entered one of
the state-rooms with his children. There he knelt with them in prayer,
laid his hands upon their heads, and bestowed a father’s blessing upon
them—the tears, all the while, streaming down his cheeks. This
affecting duty over, he resumed, at once, his usual calmness. He took
leave of me with a gentle pressure of the hand, and I followed him to
the side of the vessel, as he descended into the small boat which lay
alongside, and which was to convey him to the shore. Never shall I
forget the words, or the tone in which those words were uttered, as he
turned up his face, still bedewed with tears, and exclaimed, as the
boat moved away, ‘REMEMBER, BROTHER KINCAID, SIX MEN FOR ARRACAN!’
“I never saw brother or sister Comstock after that. The very day that
we took a pilot on board off Sandy Hook, April 28, 1843, was the day
that sister Comstock died, and in one year afterward, lacking three
days, that is, on the 25th of April, 1844, brother Comstock followed
her. Now they sleep side by side in the grave-yard at Ramree, under
the tamarind trees.”
It was a heavy day for Mrs. Judson when her husband carried to the ship
_Cashmere_ the child[49] who had been the sharer of all her sufferings
and griefs at Tavoy. It was well for her that a veil hid from her eyes
the immediate future, else she might have seen the boy’s hairbreadth
escape from pirates and the tortures of terror to which the shrinking
child was subjected on board the ship which was bearing him away from
his mother’s side.
While in Maulmain, Mr. Judson completed the Burman Bible. It was about
the time of his marriage to Mrs. Boardman that he finished the first
rough draft. Seventeen years before in Rangoon, all he had to offer of
the precious Scriptures to the first Burman inquirer was two half sheets
containing the first five chapters of Matthew.[50] From that time on,
beneath all his toils and sufferings and afflictions, there moved the
steady undercurrent of this great purpose and labor of Bible
translation. It was a task for which he had little relish. He much
preferred dealing with the Burmans individually, and persuading them,
one by one, of the truth of the Gospel. In a letter which states his
purpose of relinquishing for many months the pleasure of laboring in the
Karen jungles in order to shut himself up to the work of translation, he
says, “The tears flow as I write.” Alluding to this same labor of
translation, he writes to the Corresponding Secretary, “And so, God
willing and giving us life and strength, we hope to go on, but we hope
still to be allowed to feel that our great work is to preach the Gospel
_viva voce_, and build up the glorious kingdom of Christ among this
people.”
And when, the Bible being finished, the Board at home pressed him to
undertake the Dictionary, he sorrowfully exclaims:
“How can I think of leaving this population to perish before me, while
I am poring over manuscripts and proof-sheets? I must not do it; I can
not do it, unless the Board expressly order it; and then I will obey,
believing that _vox senatus vox Dei_. But before they order the only
preaching missionary in the place to spend his time in making books,
and above all a dictionary, I beg they will deeply consider the
propriety of appointing him a preaching colleague.”
But the translation of the Bible was essentially necessary to the
permanent establishment of Christianity in Burmah, and no other living
man was qualified for the work. And so, in the brief intervals of
preaching, and teaching, and imprisonment, and jungle travel, secluding
himself in the garret at Rangoon, and afterward in the little room
attached to the mission-house at Maulmain, he quietly wrought at this
prodigious task, until, at last, he could write on January 31, 1834, at
the age of fifty-six:
“Thanks be to God, I can _now_ say I have attained. I have knelt down
before Him, with the last leaf in my hand, and imploring His
forgiveness for all the sins which have polluted my labors in this
department, and His aid in future efforts to remove the errors and
imperfections which necessarily cleave to the work, I have commended
it to His mercy and grace; I have dedicated it to His glory. May He
make His own inspired word, now complete in the Burman tongue, the
grand instrument of filling all Burmah with songs of praise to our
great God and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.”
Some of the peculiar ideas that controlled him in the work of
translation, and some of the special difficulties he encountered, are
disclosed in his letters:
“My ideas of translating are very different from those of some
missionaries, better men than myself, but mistaken, I think, in this
particular. I consider it the work of a man’s whole life to procure a
_really good_ translation of even the New Testament in an untried
language. I could write much on this subject, but I have neither time
nor disposition. I would only say that, in many instances, missionary
labor has been dreadfully misdirected, and hundreds of thousands most
foolishly thrown away. As to us, we wish to proceed _slow_ and _sure_,
and to see to it that whatever we do, in regard to the inspired word,
is _well done_. About four months ago, being convinced that the New
Testament, notwithstanding all my labor upon it, was still in a very
imperfect state, brother Wade and myself undertook a thorough
revision. We have now done one-quarter of it; and I have some hope
that by the time the printer and press arrive, we shall be able to
warrant the whole. After that, we propose to work and rework at the
precious book of Psalms, until we can venture to warrant that also.
And so, God willing, and giving us life and strength, we hope to go
on.... Allow me to suggest whether the exegetical works of Stuart,
Robinson, Stowe, Ripley, Bush, Noyes, and such like, with some of the
best German works, ought not to be sent out to the library, as soon as
they come from the press, without waiting for an application to be
made for them. I frequently see a sterling work on the cover of the
_Herald_ or _Magazine_, and am ready to scream, with some variations,
‘The book, the book! my kingdom for the book!’ Yes, a kingdom, if the
same ship which brought the notice had brought the work too; whereas I
have to wait for letters to cross the ocean twice or three times, at
least, and thus two or three years’ use of the book is lost, during
which time I am, perhaps, working upon that very portion of Scripture
which that book is intended to illustrate.”
Again he writes to the Rev. Dr. Sharp:
“MAULMAIN, _June_ 28, 1833.
“I ought to have written you long ago; but necessity has no law. I
have lately entered upon a plan by which I hope to finish the
translation of the Old Testament in two years. I find by experience
that I can dispose of twenty-five or thirty verses per day, by giving
all my time to the work. One-third of the whole is already done. You
may, perhaps, wonder why I make such a tedious work of translating,
when some persons dispatch the whole New Testament, and perhaps part
of the Old, within a year or two after entering their field of labor.
There are two ways of translating—the one original, the other
second-hand. The first must be adopted by a missionary whose lot falls
in a section of the globe where there is no translation of the
Scriptures in any cognate language, or in any language known to the
learned men of the country. In that case, he must spend some years in
reading a great many books, and in acquiring a competent stock of the
language; that, like as the spider spins her web from her own bowels,
he may be able to extract the translation from his own brain. The
other mode may be advantageously adopted by a missionary who has in
his hand the Bible, already translated into some language known by
learned natives in the country. In that case, he has only to get a
smattering of their vernacular, enough to superintend their
operations, and then parcel out the work, and it is done by steam.
There have been but few original translations. That by Ziegenbalg and
his associates, in Tamil, has served for all the dialects in the south
of India. That by Carey and his associates, in Sanscrit and Bengalee,
has been the basis of all the other translations which they have
conducted. Morrison’s Chinese translation will probably be transferred
into all the cognate languages; and the Taling, Karen, and Lah-wah,
together with the Siamese, and other Shan translations, will be
obtained more or less directly from the Burman. I mention the above as
specimens merely; not intending to imply that they are the only
_original_ translations that have been made. Nor would I be understood
to speak disparagingly of second-hand translations. If the partners
employed are faithful, a second-hand translation may be superior to an
original one. At any rate, it will probably be more idiomatic, and in
all cases, when practicable, it ought undoubtedly to be attempted as a
first essay; and as the missionary advances in the language, he can
gradually raise it to any degree of perfection.
“But I sadly fear that, if I prolong this letter, it will leave my
to-day’s task of twenty verses in the rear.”
The work of translating was done thoroughly and conscientiously. Every
Hebrew and Greek word was turned as far as possible into its exact
Burmese equivalent. The Greek word for baptism was justly translated
into Burmese, _Ya-kneat mengalah_, that is, the water-bathing or
immersing religious rite. But it is taking a long step to infer from
this that Mr. Judson approved of a new version in English, which should
discard the thoroughly acclimated English word _baptize_, and substitute
the word _immerse_. His death occurring just as a new project of such a
version was appearing on the horizon, he has, of course, left behind no
autographic testimony on this subject. That his name can not be claimed
as on the side of such a version may be learned from a hitherto
unpublished letter written by his widow within three years of his death:
“There is one thing that annoys me a good deal—the New Bible
Versionists claim Dr. J., and I know (though I do not feel brave
enough to oppose my bare assertion to the ‘weight of testimony’ they
would hurl at my head) that nobody could disapprove of a new English
version of the Scriptures more heartily and entirely than he. He was
very strenuous about his Burmese version, and would no doubt have
persevered in his translation if the whole world had been against him.
He considered _baptize_ an English word, in virtue of its long use,
and thought that it had no complete synonym in the language. It would
be a new word to introduce into the Burmese, and would only add to the
peculiar mystic importance which always attaches to the ordinance in a
heathen mind; and, besides, it was perfectly translatable. The
_ya-kneat mengalah_ (literally, the _water-bathing_, or immersing
_religious rite_) of the Burmans is definite and dignified, and
without an equivalent in meaning in English. The circular of the new
society reached Maulmain a month too late; but previous to that he had
spoken to me in terms of strong reprobation of the movements of the
New Versionists. He was a strong, thorough Baptist; he admired the
Baptist principle and policy, well carried out; despised all
imitations of other denominations, and thought the Baptists ought to
be willing to stand for what they really are—the only true
representatives of religious freedom in the world. But the abandonment
of a word in common use for centuries, and so slightly equivocal in
its meaning, he would have regarded as the very extreme of
childishness. I have no doubt that Dr. —— and others are honest in
claiming him; and I do not know but he may have said and written many
things, especially when so deeply interested in the issue of his
Burmese version, not difficult for them to appropriate; but I do know
that he never contemplated a new English version for general
circulation, and that what he heard of the new movements caused him
deep pain.”
Great as was the task of thus scrupulously translating the Bible, the
revision was still more laborious. Seven years were spent in revising
the first work. It was a mental peculiarity of Mr. Judson’s never to
leave a thing alone while it could possibly be improved. His besetting
sin was, in his own expressive words, alluded to before, a _lust for
finishing_, and it was not until 1840 that he could say:
“On the 24th of October last, I enjoyed the great happiness of
committing to the press the last sheet of the new edition of the
Burmese Bible. It makes about twelve hundred pages quarto. We are
sending you several copies by the present conveyance....