will not be uninteresting. It is situated on the eastern shore of the Bay
of Bengal, and extends from 15 deg. 54' to 20 deg. 51' north latitude. Its
width is very variable. At the northern part of the province it is about
ninety miles wide, while the width at the extreme southern point is but two
or three miles. Probably the average width is something less than fifty
miles. It is bounded on the north by the Province of Chittagong, on the
east by the Burman empire, and on the south and west by the Bay of Bengal.
An extensive range of mountains is the boundary between Arracan and Burmah,
over which are several passes--one to Ava, one to Prome, another to
Bassein, &c. Only the _first_ is very much travelled. By this we are only
six or eight days' journey from Ava. A good deal of this province is
mountainous, and much of the rest is jungle or uncultivated land. The
people live in small villages, which are scattered over the whole province.
The population, according to the government census, I do not exactly know;
but it must be something less than two hundred and fifty thousand. It is
very difficult, however, to ascertain the population, as the people will
deceive all they can, to avoid taxes, which were very oppressive under the
Burman government, and are not very light now. A great deal of itinerant
labor must be performed here, as the inhabitants are so scattered; and much
must be done by tracts. Two or three laborers besides brother Simons
and myself should enter this field as soon as may be. The province is
subdivided into four subordinate jurisdictions, called districts. The
northern one, Akyab, is the largest. Here is brother Fink, with his native
church; and here, I believe, brother Simons intends to settle. The Ramree
district is the next in size. It consists of Ramree Island, about forty
miles long, and on an average about fifteen wide, extending from 18 deg.
51' to 19 deg. 24' north latitude of Cheduba Island, lying a short distance
to the south-west of Ramree, which is eighteen miles long and fourteen
wide, and of several smaller islands. There are in the district three
hundred and seventy-four villages and about seventy thousand inhabitants.
This is the field of labor I occupy. Kyouk Phyoo is on the northern point
of Ramree Island; and, though not as central or as large as some other
places, is, on some accounts, a very desirable station."
In his labors Mr. C. found a valuable help in Mrs. C., who with unreserved
diligence devoted herself to the duties of her station in different parts
of Arracan. Though not exposed to the trials and dangers which attended
the efforts of the first missionaries, yet in labors abundant and faith
unwavering she certainly was.
There is mentioned of her a most beautiful incident which occurred when
about to part with her children, who were to visit America to commence a
course of instruction not to be obtained in Burmah. When the vessel was
about to sail, and Mr. Kincaid, who was to conduct them to this country,
was ready to go on board, Mrs. Comstock took her two children and led them
forth towards the ocean which would soon part her from them forever, and,
kissing the cheek of each, committed them to the care of Him who holds the
storms in his hand and controls the tempests as he will. It cost a struggle
such only as a mother's heart can feel and realize; and, as she kissed them
for the last time and gave them to her husband, she turned her streaming
eyes to heaven and exclaimed, _"O Jesus, I do this for thee!"_
It was the last time. The vessel spread her canvas to the gales of heaven,
and the children of the devoted woman were wafted from her, to see her face
no more; and when next they meet, it will be before the great white throne,
where the secrets of all hearts will be revealed, and where the Savior will
place upon the head of his servant a crown of glory, and declare, in the
hearing of an assembled world, _"This, beloved disciple, I do for thee!"_
It will be a delightful recompense for all the trials, inflictions, and
sufferings of a missionary life, and will more than compensate the most
self-sacrificing of all earth's children for the most toilsome labors, the
most severe trials. Far happier will be he whose brow is encircled with
such a crown than he who in this life is hailed as a royal emperor and led
in chains of gold from throne to throne, from kingdom to kingdom.
One of our poets has thrown this beautiful incident into rhyme. One verse
of his poem we repeat:--
"One burning kiss, one wild good by;
Put off, put off from shore!
In mercy to the mother fly,
And swiftly waft them from her eye,
For she can bear no more!
She knelt and cried, as o'er the sea
Faded their forms like sunset ray,
'_O Savior, I do this for thee!_'
And, sobbing, turned away."
The faith of Mrs. Comstock was strong. She believed that the efforts of
Christian philanthropy would be attended by the desired blessing, and that
Arracan would lift up its hands to God and implore the love of Jesus upon
her prostrate sons. In a letter from Ramree, written only a few months
before her death, she wrote as follows: "I believe these hills and vales
of Arraean will yet leap at the 'sound of the church-going bell,' and the
hundreds and thousands of her children will be seen coming up from every
city, village, and hamlet, with united heart and voice, to the worship of
the great Jehovah. It may not be in my day; but my children _may_ see it.
God grant that they may be privileged in hastening it on. We see but little
fruit of our labors, i.e., so far as converts are concerned, but see the
seed germinating. It is not dead--it will yet spring up; yes, this very
seed we are now sowing will spring up and yield a glorious harvest."
With this confident expectation she labored on until the hand of death came
to close her labors and lead her away to her infinite reward. In whatever
part of Arracan she was, she was zealous to do the will of her Master, and
seemed governed by a firm determination to glory in nothing but the cross
of Jesus. Whether at Kyouk Phyoo, at Akyab, or at Ramree, or any of the
other spots of toil and denial, she was _faithful_ to the great work
assigned her. She never lost sight of the object to accomplish which she
had been sent out to a heathen land.
She departed this life on the 28th of April, 1843. Her disease was the
malignant dysentery, which is peculiar to the climate. Her two children,
lovely little boys, followed her to the grave; and in three months they
were laid to rest by her side. About two hundred inhabitants of the Ramree
district attended her funeral; and when the disconsolate husband had gone
to his deserted home they remained and poured forth their sorrow over the
new-made grave. Her death exerted a deep and powerful influence on the
minds of the natives; and some were led to prepare to meet God by seeking
the mercy of his Son.
The touching account of the death of his companion we give in Mr. C.'s
own words: "For several months past Mrs. Comstock had been blessed with
unusually good health; and we had repeatedly spoken with gratitude of the
goodness of God in granting us so long an exemption from sickness. We
hoped, too, that we should be permitted to labor more vigorously and
uninterruptedly for the good of the heathen than we had been able to do.
She had just completed a Book for Mothers, which, I think, was greatly
needed, and will, I trust, prove very useful. She was contemplating a work
for children, and had begun to inquire for scholars to attend during the
rains, just at hand. We had, too, already decided to spend a month or two
early in the cold season at Cheduba, and then take a tour of a month to Ava
and the villages on the way thither. Our prospects for the future appeared
to be unusually encouraging; and we fondly hoped that we should be
permitted to see many turning unto the Lord in Arracan. We did not,
however, forget that death might destroy all our plans, and often conversed
together freely on the probability that one of us might be called speedily
into eternity. She had no fear of death nor any anxiety as to the time
or manner of her departure, but only spoke of it as affecting our future
course.
"She was taken ill on Saturday, April 22. Our English doctor was then
absent from Ramree; but, had he been here, we should not, probably, have
thought it necessary to call him, as Mrs. C. had prescribed for many
similar cases with entire success. On Monday I saw that her disease was
very severe and obstinate, and asked her if I had not better call the
Mussulman doctor who is left in charge here when the English one is absent.
He came Tuesday morning. He prescribed for her, but wished the English
doctor sent for; and I despatched a messenger for him. He arrived early on
Wednesday morning, and faithfully and assiduously tried every remedy to
arrest the disease, but in vain. On Friday evening, the 28th, at eight
o'clock, she very suddenly expired. Occasionally there were slight symptoms
of amendment; and I fondly hoped, to the very last, that she might recover.
A minute or two before her death she took some nourishment, and remarked
that she thought she should soon regain her strength. I trusted that it
might be so, and stepped on to the veranda to say to the native Christians
that there was still a little reason to hope. I heard her speak, and
hastened to her just in time to see her sink back upon her pillow, and.
without a struggle or even a gasp, breathe her last.
"The body was immediately surrounded by weeping and wailing heathen women,
who felt that they had lost a friend. Such indeed was the case; for Mrs.
C. truly pitied and loved the women of Arracan, and was never happier than
when telling them of the Savior. On the day after her death, as the news
spread in the town, men, women, and children (more of the last two) began
to crowd to my house; and it was estimated that about two thousand were
here during the day. Their expressions of attachment to my dear wife and of
sorrow for her loss were deeply affecting. 'How kindly she always spoke to
me when she met me!' 'She always gave us medicine when we were sick.' 'She
was truly a good woman.' 'She came here to die, far from her native land,
with no mother or sister near her, because she pitied us.' Expressions
similar to these were made and listened to with many tears. I remarked
once, 'What crowds are pressing to the house! Are _all_ from the town?' A
bystander replied, 'Yes; as the news spreads all will be here, for she
was greatly beloved.' Another added, 'Many tears will be shed in Ramree
to-day.'
"I was surprised and deeply affected to witness such manifestations of
feeling among the heathen towards a Christian missionary. They more firmly
convinced me that she had not lived in vain, but had exerted an extensive
and salutary influence, which, I doubt not, will be powerfully felt in
preparing the way of the Lord here. Her labors, too, I trust, will prove
the means of salvation to many souls. She was a most conscientious and
laborious missionary. The rains before last she had a school, to which
she devoted a good deal of time; translated the Scripture Catechism,
administered medicine to the sick, conversed with the women who were daily
calling at the house, and taught her own children, besides attending to
household duties. She was from daylight till nine o'clock at evening
constantly engrossed with labors and cares. As far as her own feelings were
concerned, she would have delighted uniformly to be as active and busy as
she then was.
"She was not, however, always called to such constant and severe labor, but
uniformly did what she could. Whenever women came to the house she felt it
her duty to leave all and go and tell them of the Savior; and I recollect
that in a few instances, when she was so engaged that she could not at once
go to them, and they left without hearing of Christ, she was very much
grieved on account of it. If I was not at hand, she conversed with the
men, too. Towards evening, when she could be out, she might often be
found seated on a rice mortar, with half a dozen women around her, in the
adjoining villages. Attention to the sick, also, demanded a good deal
of her time and thought. I have known her to give medicine to twenty
applicants in a day. She was always anxious to accompany me in my tours to
the villages during the cold season; but circumstances usually prevented
it. She would have prepared more works for the press but for a feeling
of extreme self-depreciation, which led her to think that she was not
competent to prepare a book fit to be printed. The Scripture Catechism and
Mother's Book are both, I think, calculated to do much good. She not only
labored faithfully, but prayed fervently, and with tears, for the salvation
of the heathen. She has, however, entered into her rest; her labors and
prayers have ceased; and I am left alone to train my children up for God
and to do what I can to win the heathen to Christ. The Lord has thus
decided; and he does all things well. I am enabled to say, in sincerity
I trust, 'Thy will be done.' I have lost a most affectionate and amiable
wife, my children have lost a kind and faithful mother, and a prayerful and
diligent laborer is lost to the cause of missions; but I will not repine or
murmur. The Lord is as rich in mercy as he is infinite in wisdom; and let
him do what seemeth good in his sight. I need not ask the sympathy and
prayers for the members of the Board and other friends, for I feel assured
that I shall have them. Pray, not only that my affliction may be greatly
sanctified to my spiritual good and to the good of other friends and other
missionaries, but also that the death of my dear wife may be made the means
of life to many souls in Arracan. Several appear tender, and seem to recall
the instructions she has given them."
Mr. Comstock did not long survive her. In about one year from the time his
wife was taken from her toils his earthly joys and sorrows closed, and he
went up on high. Borne down by anxiety, care, and affliction, he died April
24, 1844. He was the third son of Rev. Oliver C. Comstock, of Michigan.
He graduated at Hamilton Institution in 1827. For a while he studied
and practised law in the city of Rochester, where he was becoming very
successful as a counsellor. But God had another station for him to
occupy--a wide field of usefulness for him to fill. In the winter of 1831
he was led to view himself as a sinner and embrace Jesus as his Savior.
He became a member of the First Baptist Church, and was baptized by his
venerated father. Soon he became convinced that the Christian ministry
demanded his exertions and powers. He soon removed to Hamilton and entered
the theological class, and at once commenced preparing himself for
labors in Burmah, and soon went forth to do the will of God in wild and
uncultivated regions. But his afflictions were many--his toils great--his
years few. He died ere the desire of his heart had been realized. He
ascended to heaven ere the field given him to cultivate was seen blossoming
as the rose.
Called by God, he left the path to earthly honor and distinction and
entered the scorned and despised service of the crucified One, and in that
service found an early grave. He saw his beloved companion go down to the
tomb; he saw two darling babes laid beside her; and, panting for the loved
ones, he himself went down into the sepulchre.
Here ends the record of a family sacrificed on the altar of Christian
benevolence; a record written with tears of sorrow and anguish, yet
gleaming with signs of glory; a record which even the cold cynic might
respect, and the stoic read with emotions of wonder and admiration.
"Patriots have toiled, and in their country's cause
Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve,
Receive proud recompense. We give in charge
Their names to the sweet lyre. The Historic Muse,
Proud of the treasure, marches with it down
To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn,
Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass
To guard them and immortalize her trust.
But fairer wreaths are due, though never paid,
To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth,
Have fallen in her defence."
VIII.
HENRIETTA SHUCK, OF CHINA.
The Celestial empire has become an object of great interest. Its vast
extent, its swarming inhabitants, its peculiar customs, its steady
resistance of modern inventions, and its obstinate defiance of
Christianity, all draw upon it the gaze of the Christian world. The time
was when China was barred and bolted against the truth; when on her soil
could be found no teacher of the true faith; when a high wall separated
the ignorant inhabitants from the rest of the world. But the wall has been
thrown down; the obstacles in the way of Christianity have in many cases
been removed; and China is open to the footsteps of the man of God.
Following the leadings of divine Providence, good men of various
denominations have planted mission stations within the hallowed enclosures
of the proud monarch of that great empire, and in the midst of superstition
and abomination planted the saving cross.
The station to which Mrs. Shuck belonged was under the control of the
Baptist Missionary Convention. It was at Macao, a beautiful peninsula, four
miles in length, peopled with about forty thousand Chinese and Portuguese.
Mrs. Shuck describes the climate as delightful and the situation of
the place beautifully romantic. Though destitute of many of the dear
associations connected with stations in and about Palestine, yet to a mind
like that of Mrs. S. there was much in the wild beauty of the scenery and
the strange customs of the people to interest and please; and all her
letters give evidence that in that spot she found a home where she could
labor with pleasure to herself and profit to others around her.
But she was not destined to spend all her days at Macao. The providence of
God soon suggested a removal to Hong Kong, forty miles east of Macao. Her
own health seemed to require such a step, as the unprotected state of the
peninsula was fast wearing her into the grave. Certain advantageous offers
were also made, and a prospect of increased usefulness presented to her
husband; and in 1842 Mr. Shuck bade farewell to his old field of labor, and
entered upon one where the prospect of success was much more abundant.
The maiden name of Mrs. Shuck was Henrietta Hall. Her father was Rev.
Addison Hall, a faithful, devoted minister of the gospel. Her mother was
daughter of Colonel Elias Edmonds, of Virginia. They were both remarkable
for intelligence and piety, and were universally esteemed. They were
members of the Moratico Baptist Church, having been received by Rev. S. L.
Straughan.
On the 28th of October, 1817, Henrietta was born in the beautiful little
village of Kilmarnock, but a few miles from the rolling waves of Chesapeake
Bay. Her early days were spent near this beautiful spot, where she was
known as a frank, amiable, kind-hearted girl. Her youth was passed with her
parents, who exerted themselves to expand her mind and improve her heart.
To the fond hearts of the parents she was an object of tender solicitude
and care, and they longed to see her brought to the feet of the Lord Jesus.
In 1831 extensive revivals were enjoyed throughout the country, and in
these revivals Virginia largely shared. It was during this year that Miss
Hall was converted. A camp meeting was being held near her birthplace, in
which her father was much interested; and feeling that moral and religious
training was much more important than intellectual culture, he sent for his
daughter, who was attending school at Fredericksburg, to return home and
enjoy the privileges of the work of grace. She came, not thinking of the
change which was soon to take place in her moral character. Young and
happy, she put far off the evil day; and the awful conviction that she was
a sinner had not produced any serious impression upon her mind. But God's
hand was in her timely return, and his grace had marked her as one of its
choicest subjects. She no sooner commenced attending the meeting than she
began to feel the force of truth and hear the voice of the Spirit and the
monitions of the Holy Ghost. Under the solemn presentation of the sinner's
lost condition, young Henrietta began to realize that she was lost without
a Savior. The fact was before her mind day and night, and she found no
rest. True, she had lived on earth but a short time, and, when compared
with others, had committed but few sins; but these few were aggravated and
overwhelming. God she had not loved; Christ she had not embraced. She had
violated the wise and holy law of the universe, and, to complete the work
of woe, had rejected the blood of the Son of God. She had a view of sin as
God presents, it in his word; and when she saw _herself_ as a sinner, the
contemplation was crushing and terrible. But these feelings of deep anguish
did not long continue. God heard her cries of penitence, and for the sake
of Christ forgave all the past, and caused joy, like a deep, strong tide,
to flow into her soul. Her rapture was as ecstatic as her sorrow had been
oppressive; and on the listening ear of her sister penitents she poured the
story of her change from death to life.
She was baptized on the 2nd of September, 1831, by Rev. J. B. Jeter. It was
a holy spectacle. The youthful candidate for the sublime ordinance was not
yet fourteen years of age; and, as she descended the bank and entered the
flood, a deep and awful silence gathered over the crowded shores. The voice
of mirth and profanity was hushed; and to many a heart came the spirit
tone, "This is the way; walk ye in it." As she came up out of the water a
cheerful smile was seen playing upon her countenance, which told of sweet
and precious peace and delightful communion with her Maker. The pastor
who administered the ordinance, the church which received her to its
fellowship, the anxious parents, have had no reason to regret the important
step then taken; and though they must have seen her baptized with fear and
trembling lest she should in her youth be deceived and eventually return to
the cold and heartless service of the world, yet they commended her to that
Being who is able and faithful to keep all who are committed to his care.
Nor did the world with its curling lip and contemptuous tone ever tell how
the youthful disciple witnessed a good profession and afterwards denied it.
A few months after her baptism Henrietta was called to part with her
beloved mother, who died in December of the same year. To the young
Christian this bereavement was full of sorrow and full of blessing. While
it deprived her of a mother's counsels and prayers, while it took from her
one to whom she had looked for maternal sympathy and encouragement, it
taught her the uncertainty of life, threw her more upon herself and on her
Savior, placed a greater weight of care upon her, and thus fitted her for
the duties which she afterwards performed so faithfully as a missionary of
the cross.