RANGOON; LETTERS FROM MRS. JUDSON.
Rangoon, one of the chief seaports of the Burman Empire, situated on one
of the numerous mouths of the Irrawaddy, and having a splendid harbor,
is yet one of the meanest, and most uninteresting cities that can well
be imagined. It is situated in a flat, marshy plain, and is merely a
vast collection of bamboo huts, with narrow streets, and here and there
an ugly building of brick or wood, and would give a stranger a most
unfavorable impression of the noble country to which it is the entrance.
On their arrival at this city, Mr. and Mrs. Judson took up their abode
in a deserted mission-house just outside the wall, which had formerly
been occupied by some Baptist missionaries from Serampore. The house was
large and not unsuited to the climate, but unfinished and comfortless.
However, it had a garden full of flowers and fruit-trees, and the
scenery around it was rural and pleasant. Here they found one Christian
female, the only person remaining of the former mission family, and she
was a native of the country. Mrs. Judson's peculiar trials and
encouragements at this time will be best learned by extracts from her
letters and journal.
_July 30, 1813_, she writes: "We felt very gloomy and dejected the first
night we arrived, in view of our prospects; but we were enabled to lean
on God, and to feel that he was able to support us under the most
discouraging circumstances.
"The next morning I prepared to go on shore, but hardly knew how I
should get to Mr. Carey's house; it was, however, concluded that I
should be carried in an arm-chair; consequently, when I landed one was
provided, through which were put two bamboos, and four of the natives
took me on their shoulders. When they had carried me a little way into
the town, they set me down under a shade, when great numbers of the
natives gathered round, having seldom seen an English female. Being sick
and weak, I held my head down, which induced many of the native females
to come very near, and look under my bonnet. At this I looked up and
smiled, on which they set up a loud laugh. They again took me up to
carry, and the multitude of natives gave a shout which much diverted us.
They next carried me to a place they call the custom-house. It was a
small open shed, in which were seated on mats, several natives, who were
the custom-house officers. After searching Mr. Judson very closely,
they asked liberty for a native female to search me, to which I readily
consented. I was then brought to the mission-house, where I have nearly
recovered my health."
"_July 22._--It is now a week since we arrived here. My health is quite
restored, and I feel much more contented and happy than I ever expected
to be in such a situation. I think I enjoy the promises of God in a
higher degree than ever before, and have attained more true peace of
mind and trust in the Saviour. When I look back to my late situation in
that wretched old vessel, without any accommodations--scarcely the
necessaries of life--no physician--no female attendants--so weak that I
could not move--I hope I am deeply sensible of the kind care of my
heavenly Father in carrying me safely through the peculiar dangers of
the voyage, and giving me once more a resting-place on land.
"Still, were it not for the support we derive from the gospel of Jesus,
we should be ready to sink down in despondency in view of the dark and
gloomy scenes around us. But when we recollect that Jesus has commanded
his disciples to carry the gospel to the heathen, and promised to be
with them to the end of the world; that God has promised to give the
heathen to his Son for an inheritance, we are encouraged to make a
beginning, though in the midst of discouragement, and leave it to Him to
grant success in his own time and way."
"I find here no female friends with whom I can unite in social prayer,
nor even one with whom I can converse. I have, indeed, no society at all
except that of Mr. Judson, yet I feel happy in thinking that I gave up
this source of pleasure, as well as most others, for the sake of the
poor heathen."
In her journal we find the following sentiment: "Though we find
ourselves almost destitute of all those sources of enjoyment to which we
have been accustomed, and are in the midst of a people who are at
present almost destitute on account of the scarcity of provisions[2];
though we are exposed to robbers by night and invaders by day, yet we
both unite in saying that we never were happier, never more contented in
any situation than the present. We feel that this is the post to which
God hath appointed us; that we are in the path of duty; and though
surrounded with danger and death, we feel that God can with infinite
ease, preserve and support us under the most heavy sufferings.
"Oh, if it may please the dear Redeemer to make me instrumental of
leading some of the females of Burmah to a saving acquaintance with Him,
my great object will be accomplished, my highest desires gratified, I
shall rejoice to have relinquished my comforts, my country and my home."
"Oh Lord, here I am; thou hast brought me to this heathen land, and
given me desires to labor for thee. Do with me what pleaseth thee. Make
me useful or not as seemeth good in thy sight. But oh, let my soul live
before thee; let me serve none but thee; let me have no object in life
but the promotion of thy glory."
"_Aug. 15._--I have begun to study the language. Find it very hard and
difficult, having none of the usual helps in acquiring a language,
except a small part of a grammar, and six chapters of St. Matthew's
Gospel by Mr. Carey, now at Ava."
"_Aug. 28._--Have been writing letters this week to my dear friends in
America. Found that a recollection of former enjoyments in my own native
country, made my situation here appear less tolerable. The thought that
I had parents, sisters, and beloved friends still in existence, and at
such a distance that it was impossible to obtain one look or exchange a
word, was truly painful. While they are still in possession of the
comforts I once enjoyed, I am an exile from my country and my father's
house, deprived of all society and every friend but one, and with
scarcely the necessaries of life. _These privations would not be endured
with patience in any other cause but that in which we are engaged._
But since it is thy cause, blessed Jesus, we rejoice that thou didst
give us so many enjoyments to sacrifice, and madest it so plainly our
duty to forsake all in order to bring thy truth to the benighted
heathen. We would not resign our work, but live contented with our lot,
and live to Thee."
"_Sept. 5._--Yes, I do feel thankful that God has brought me to this
heathen land, and placed me in a situation peculiarly calculated to make
me feel my dependence on him and my constant need of the influences of
the Holy Spirit. I enjoy more in reading the Scriptures, and in secret
prayer than for years before; and the prosperity of this mission, and
the conversion of this people, lie with weight on my mind, and draw
forth my heart in constant intercession. _And I do confidently believe
that God will visit this land with Gospel light, that these idol temples
will be demolished_, and temples for the worship of the living God be
erected in their stead."
Let us here pause for a moment and contemplate the picture brought by
these words before our imagination. Let us survey the scene in which the
lonely missionary penned this prediction. A vast country not waste and
uninhabited, but enriched by the partial sun with every natural gift to
cheer the sense and gratify the taste of man; swarming with human beings
endowed with capacities for advancement in knowledge, and virtue, and
temporal enjoyment, as well as for immortal happiness; yet who, having
said in their heart there is no God 'that minds the affairs of men,'
have built up for themselves a fabric of absurd superstitions, and
unmeaning rites, and senseless formalities, to which they cling with a
stubbornness that nothing but the power of God can subdue; on such a
shore are cast by the providence of God two 'pilgrim strangers,' not
endowed with apostolic gifts; not able to control disease, or raise the
dead, or even to speak in a foreign tongue without long and patient and
assiduous study to acquire it; and yet with a simple and sublime faith
in the clear and sure word of their master, "Go--preach my Gospel--lo, I
am with you," these pilgrim strangers can CONFIDENTLY BELIEVE
that God will visit this land with gospel light, and that those gilded
fanes which now glisten in the morning and evening sun, on every
hill-top, will fall, and those poor idolaters will say, "What have we to
do any more with idols?" "our trust is in the name of the Lord that made
heaven and earth."
In one of the last paragraphs of her private journal which has been
preserved, dated Oct. 8th of the same year, she says: "To-day I have
been into the town, and I was surprised at the multitude of people with
which the streets are filled. Their countenances are intelligent; and
they appear to be capable under the influence of the Gospel, of
becoming a valuable and respectable people. But at present their
situation is truly deplorable, for they are given to every sin. Lying is
so universal among them that they say, 'we cannot live without telling
lies.' They believe the most absurd notions imaginable. My teacher told
me the other day, that when he died he would go to my country; I shook
my head, and told him he would not; but he laughed, and said he would. I
did not understand the language sufficiently to tell him where he would
go, or how he could be saved. Oh thou Light of the world, dissipate the
thick darkness that covers Burmah. Display thy grace and power among the
Burmans--subdue them to thyself, and make them thy chosen people."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 2: The war had almost produced a famine.]