tihvaxy of t:he t:heological ^tmimvy PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY Fran the Library of the Seminary's Society of Inquiry BV 3700 .86 1856 Smith, Lucius E. 1822-1900, Heroes and martyrs of the modern missionary Sec n s,\&r -^ ^ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in t\w year 18at», Br 0. W. POTTEK, in the Clerk's Office in the District Court of Rhode Island. ronNDRY or BILAS ANDRUS AND SON, HARTFORD. W. C. Armstrong, TypograpoM-. THE LIVING MESSENGERS OF CHRIST IN FOUEIGN LANDS, AND TO THOSE WHO SYMPATHIZE WITH THEM IN THEIR TOILS AND SACRIFICES, Tills YOLUME, A BRIEF RECORD OF THE EMINENT DEAL>. WHO HAVE YIELDED UP THEIR LIVES, A SACRED HOLOCAUST TO THE CAUSE OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. CONTENTS. PAGE DEDICATION 3 PKEFACE 7 INTRODUCTION 11 A VIEW OF EARLIER MISSIONARY ENTERPRISES 25 "WILLIAM CAREY 59 JOHN CHAMBERLAIN 85 HENRY MARTYN i03 GORDON HALL 121 SAMUEL NEWELL 145 HENRY WATSON FOX 155 THOMAS COKE 173 xV ADONIRAM JUDSON 193 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN 219 ROBERT MORRISON 243 Vv'ILLIAM MILNE 263 V WALTER MACON LOWRIE . . 2bl ' DAVID ABEEL . 301 MUNSON AND LYMAN . . 313 JOHANNES THEODORUS VANDERKEMP 321 AVILLIAM G. CROCKER 335 LOTT CARY 355 MELVILLE BEVERIDGE COX "• 363 PLINY FISK -, . . . 3/3 6 CONTEXTS. PAGE LEVI PARSONS 385 ASAHEL GRANT, M. D 395 JOHN WILLIAMS 407 WILLIAM RICHARDS 437 ARD HOYT 451 CYRUS SHEPARD 459 WILLIAM HEPBURN IlEWITSON 471 GROVER SMITH COMSTOCK 483 JAMES RICHARDS 503 PREFACE. The enterprise of missions has been a prolific source of bio- graphical literature, of surpassing interest and value. But the multiplication of works in this department of reading, puts it out of the power of very many to possess all even of the most merit- orious. It was suggested that a group in miniature of some whose devotion to missionary service hallows their memory in the churches, would find acceptance with a large circle of readers. The present work aims to supply the supposed demand. It does not profess to be complete. Undoubtedly there are names omitted that as well deserve a place in a catalogue of missionary worthies, as some that are here inserted, but the editor has not been able in all cases to secure the necessary materials; and he is conscious that, in respect to some whose lives were attempted, this deficiency has greatly impaired the interest that properly belongs to their character and memory. As the plan contemplated only persons actually engaged in missionary service, some who are highly hon- oured for their eminent usefulness in the cause were passed over. Men like Claudius Buchanan, Samuel J. Mills, and Luther Eice, were reluctantly postponed to others. To some minds there may be suggested the contrary objection, that characters are included whose lives were not sufficiently event- ful or important to find a place here, or to answer the expectations raised by the title. But true heroism in a Christian sense, which it is our faith will one day become the common sense of mankind, may be claimed for men whom the world does not now delight to honour. "I take goodness in this sense," says Bacon, "the effect- ino- of the weal of men, which is that the Grecians call Philanthro- 8 PREFACE. peia. . . . This, of all virtues and dignities of the mind, is the great- est, being the character of the Deity." It seemed desirable, more- over, to make such a selection as should exhibit different phases of missionary life, at different stages of progress and among diverse forms of heathenism. It will be seen that originality is out of the question. A com- pilation, generally from the most common and accessible sources, Avas all that could be attempted in most cases. The editor has not confined himself, however, to the track of published biography, and he has been able to obtain some original materials of value to enrich the volume. Except where the facts stated are novel, or there is a conflict of testimony, no citation of authorities has com- monly been thought necessary. The sketches of Martyn, Fox, Boardman, Abeel, Lowrie, and some others, are little more than abridgments of the biographies in common circulation, but as far as possible new information has been sought to illustrate the subject. A history of missions has not been attempted. Except in the preliminary view of earlier missions, such historical statements only have been made as were requisite to the completeness of the per- sonal narrative. The editor has souQ;ht neither to conceal nor to obtrude his own opinions on events as they passed in review, but in matters of difference between evangelical Christians, has studied to preserve entire impartiality. The extent of the work made it impossible for one hand to exe- cute it within a reasonable time, and a few of the sketches were contributed by other pens. To the gentlemen who have thus enriched the series, the editor and his readers are under great obli- gation. Encouragement and "material aid," have also been liber- ally given by several gentlemen, particularly by the Secretaries of the American Baptist Missionary Union, Eev. Dr. Anderson, of the American Board, and Eev. Dr. Sprague, to whom grateful acknowledgments are due. A word on the orthography of oriental names. Should this vol- ume fall into the hands of any who are versed in the languages of PREFACE. 9 Asia, they may be offended at a want of critical accuracy. But as it is written for English, and not for Chinese or Hindoo readers, it has not seemed worth while to sacrifice intelligibility to critical nicety. It may be respectfully suggested, that missionaries have sometimes been more nice than wise in this matter. Every body has heard of Juggernaut, but that monster has for some time gone incog.^ under the alias of Jaganatli, Readers of Indian history familiar Avith the Mahrattas, might fail to recognise that people under the name of Marathis. It has even been discovered that the Mohammedans of India have discarded the Koran in favour of a book known as the Quran. In the present work, no system has been aimed at, but the spelling that was believed to be most famil- iar has been unhesitatingly adopted. The work is submitted to the Christian public, with the prayer that it may do something to increase the missionary spirit, and so to aid, however feebly, in advancing one of the noblest of human enterprises. L. E. a Boston, January, 1852. PKXHOSTOH INTRODUCTION. BY REV. WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D.D, The chief end of Biography is to embalm virtue and perpetuate useful- ness. It is proper indeed that there should sometimes be an enduring record of the lives of bad men ; for the world needs warnings as well as examples ; but no doubt, in ordinary cases, it is safest and best to let the memory of the wicked perish. But where an individual has lived a life of eminent virtue and honourable usefulness, where his career has been marked by great self-denial and unwearied effort for the benefit of his fellow. creatures, and he has been hailed, while living, as a great public benefactor, it is peculiarly fitting that the memory of such a man should not be suffered quickly to pass away ; and Biography performs an ofiice due alike to the living and the dead, in protracting his earthly existence after death has done all that it can do to terminate it. It is true, indeed, that a good man is represented on earth, after his departure, by a thousand nameless influences, even though his very name may be forgotten ; but he survives in a still higher and more palpable sense, where gratitude and reverence unite with truth in tracing his course and delineating his charac- ter. It is by means of Biography especially, that we live among the people of by-gone ages ; that we gather around us the great and good of other countries and other states of society ; that we open our minds and hearts to the dictates of wisdom from voices that have long since been hushed in death; in a word, that we make the past subservient to the present, and receive into our own bosoms, the seeds of virtue and happiness from hands that had mouldered long before we had a being. While the biography of all who have been distinguished for intellectual and moral worth and for a high degree of Christian usefulness, is worthy to be read and studied as a source of enduring profit — if I mistake not, there 12 IXTKOl/UCTIOX. is on some accounts, a peculiar inipoitance attached to tlie memoirs of those who have lived and died missionaries of the cross. The peculiar relations which they have sustained both to the church and to the world, the prominence which they have enjoyed, and the interest which they have awakened during their lives, together with the debt of gratitude which the church recognises ns due to their memories, all conspire to invest, at least to the eye of the Christian, the faithful record of what they have been and what they have done, with more than ordinary attractions. As I have been asked to write a hw pages introductory to a work designed to commemorate some of the greater lights, now extinguished by death, in the missionary field, I know not how I can comply with the request to better purpose, than by offering a few thoughts on the subject that most obviously presents itself, namely, Missionary Biography. What then are some of the considera- tions which especially commend to our regard, this department of our Christian literature? IT OPENS SOURCES OF USEFUL KNOWLFDGE. One of the most gratifying as well as useful kinds of knowledge, is that of the manners, the usages, the institutions, that prevail in other countries. We are curious to know how the descendants of the same progenitor, the heirs of the same nature with ourselves, but who are separated from us by perhaps many thousand miles, and possibly have their home on the opposite side of the globe — we are curious to know how they live — how far their views and tastes and habits differ from our own — what influences have moulded their characters, and what counter influences are needed for their improvement and elevation. The deep-seated and general desire for this species of knowledge, is the reason why books of travels in foreign coun- tries are generally read with so much avidity; and though there may be good cause for suspecting that many of their statements are apocryphal — even this scarcely diminishes the number of eager and delighted readers. Now we should naturally expect that the most authentic and satisfactory accounts, especially of the Pagan and barbarous nations, would be furnished 1)V missionaries; partly because their high characters are a full voucher for the fidelity of their statements, and partly because their observations are the result not of a transient sojourn, but of a permanent residence among the people. Accordingly we find, as a matter of fact, that for a large part INT ROD UCT I ox. 13 of all that we know concerning not only the moral and civil conditinn, Ir.it even the Geography and Natural History of most of the Eastern nations, we arc indebted immediately to those excellent men who have taken up their abode among them in the character of missionaries. There is scarcely a department of human knowledge to which these benefactors of their race iiave not contributed; and many an elaborate volume, as well as nianv a nmseum of natural science, testifies that while they have been diligently engaged in their appropriate work, they have not been indifferent to other subjects connected with the general improvement of society. Now, in reading the lives of those who have thus had their field of labour in distant countries, and not unfrcquently among strange and barbarous * people, we seem almost to become the witnesses, — even the sharers of their labours, to see what they see and hear what they hear; and we hereby gain a much more vivid impression of the actual condition of the people among whom they have dwelt, than we could receive through any other medium. Various little incidents are constantly coming out, which, while they give distinctness and life and individuality to the narrative, form the best illustration of personal qualities and social habits. This remark applies perhaps with greater force to the journals of our missionaries, than to the formal biographies of them which are written by other hands; nevertheless, such biographies, if they are skilfully constructed, are always a channel of much important general information. And while they gratify our curiosity on some points, they awaken it on others, and thus at once reward and cherish the spirit of useful research. It seems to be generally supposed that this kind of reading is designed, if not exclusively, yet chiefly, for the benefit of the church; but the truth is, it is by no means either unworthy of, or unfitting to, a philosopher; for it supplies materials which philosophy may turn to the best account in set- tling many great questions pertaining to human life and destiny. In order to form the most enlarged and accurate judgment of the principles of human nature we must contemplate man, so far as we can, in connection with all the multiform circumstances in which he is ever placed; and we must note the developments of the common humanity under all these varied influences; and then, in the true spirit of induction, we must found our principles, or rear our systems, on the substantial basis of facts. If Philosophy deals hoiifstlv with the facts thus accumu!at."(l. she vail be obliged to acknowledge 14 INTRODUCTION, that the result is in full accordance with the teachings of God's word ; and that sl)e has really, while pursuing her own independent inquiries been act- ing as an humble auxiliary to Christianity. The study of missionary biography is further recommended by the con- sideration that IT IS A MEANS OF CHRISTIAN GROWTH. As man's nature is essentially social, so it is especially in the exercise of his social qualities, that his character is formed either for good or evil. The bad man makes himself worse by associating with those whose habits and tempers are kindred to his own; and the good man becomes better through the influence of other good men, whose example he is permitted, either directly or indirectly, to contemplate. Let a man of acknowledged Ciiristian character be separated from all Christian society, and cut off even from the opportunity of contemplating the lives of the faithful, except as they come up before him occasionally in vague recollection, and it will be strange indeed if the vigour of his good affections does not quickly abate, — if he does not begin to feel and to show that something has occurred to interfere sadly with the actings of the divine life. But let this same indi- vidual be constantly kept in the bosom of Christian society; let him bs habitually within the range of religious privileges and the atmosphere of social devotion ; let him be within reach of the word of faithful rebuke if he goes astray, or of cheering encouragement if he begins to despond ; let him see the excellence of the gospel continually mirrored forth in the exemplary lives of those who walk most closely with God ; — and there is good reason to expect that his own course will be as the shining light, grow- ing brighter unto the perfect day. The qualities which he contemplates in others with an approving and admiring eye, impart new vigour to the same qualities already existing in his own character; the words of truth and grace which he hears from others are lodged as seeds of holiness in his own soul; tlie self-denying duties which he sees others perform, grow easier to himself— from the encouragement which their example inspires; and his progress towards Heaven is greatly quickened, and his evidence of a title to Heaven proportionably brightened, from his being surrounded by those who are animated by a kindred spirit and a like glorious hope. Now what is true of example as visibly and palpably exhibited in a INTRODUCTION. 15 Christian's daily walk, is true of it at least in a degree, when it comes to us enshrined in faithful biography. If the latter is somewhat less impressive than the former, still, by being always within our reach, we may contem- plate it at our pleasure; we may study it in the house and by the way; and if our impressions of it become faint, we have always at hand the means of reviving them. And the more elevated the character which engages our thoughts, whether through the record or in actual life, — admitting that we open our minds and hearts to its legitimate influence, — the higher is our advantage for increasing in knowledge, purity and joy. It will hardly be questioned by any person of common candour that the great mass of Protestant missionaries in modern times have been persons of more than common attainments in the Christian life. There is one consid- eration that would seem to settle this point beyond doubt — it is, that in making up their minds to become missionaries, they give the highest possible evi- dence of their sincerity and earnest devotion to the cause of Christ. They voluntarily consent to resign all the advantages of Christian, perhaps, of civilized society, and to break away from their dearest earthly friends, and to spend their lives, perhaps beneath the rays of a vertical sun, — perhaps amidst the most disgusting and horrid rites of Pagan idolatry, — perhaps among barbarians who would not scruple even to take the lives of those who would be their benefactors — and for what? Why, to enlighten and renovate and save the souls of men; to obey the ascending Saviours command to preach the gospel to every creature. It must be acknowledged that a spirit of self-righteousness, or of mock heroism, may work itself up to an astonish- ing pitch of self-denial, and for aught we can say, may even court not only a missionary's, but a martyr's sacrifices ; but still it remains true that he who spends his life and makes his grave, as a missionary among the heathen, gives the highest evidence that we can ordinarily look for, not only of sin- cerity, but of an exalted type of Christian character. And what would seem to be implied in the very fact of voluntary consecration to the missipn- ary work, is only what we see more fully evidenced to us in the subsequent lives of those who are thus devoted. By the manner in which they endure trials, resist temptations, overcome obstacles, and hold on their hard and humble, yet glorious way, they show that they never lose sight of eternal objects and interests, and never wander far away from the fountain of grace and strength. In reading the biography of such men, therefore, we put our 16 INTRODUCTION. selves into conimunion with men of niiglit and men of mark ; and as we contemplate their extraordinary purity and energy and zeal, we may hope to be changed more and more into their image, wliich is but a reproduction, — faint and feeble indeed, — of the image of the Master. It belongs also to this species of biography that it illustrates in an en;!i- nent degree the power of divine truth. The conversion of a sinner i.s substantially the same thing under every variety of circumstances : it is a change in the current of the soul's desires and affections ; it is the displacing of the world and the substitution of God, as an object of supreme regard and ultimate pursuit; it is, in a word, becoming a new creature in Christ Jesus. The same almighty energy is necessary to accomplish this change in the mere decent moralist, or the mere speculative believer, as in the degraded votary of superstition, immorality or infidelity. Nevertheless our idea of the power of the gospel is necessarily heightened by the visible measure of degradation from which its subject has been raised ; and hence our conceptions of it never rise higher than when we view it in its actings upon the ignorance and pollutions of Paganism. Now those who are gath- ered as the fruits of missionary labour are generally of the class whose conversion most strikingly illustrates the power and grace of God; and in reading the memoirs of the missionaries, we have constantly presented before us, in the progress of their labours, evidence of the quickening influ- ence of God's word, that comes with the force of complete demonstration. And as the Christian has the wonderful works of God thus passing before him — as he witnesses the conquests which the gospel accomplishes even in the strongholds of the Prince of darkness — this gospel becomes more and more the object of his devout veneration ; he is grateful for the faith wliich he has in it, and humble that his faith is not stronger; he presses it to his heart with a still deeper conviction that it is a thing of life and power; and he breathes forth a yet more earnest prayer to Heaven that, under its trans- farming influence, he may become a nobler and more perfect specimen of God's renovating workmanship. Wiio can read tiie history of the life of Swartz, or Henry Martyn, or John Williams, or of almost any of our modern missionaries, and note the signal triumphs of truth and grace which are here exhibited, without being quickened to a higher sense of the value of of the gospel, or without resolving on an increased degree of conformity to its precepts, and aspiring to a deeper sympathy with its spirit. INTRODUCTION". 17 There is yet another aspect in which we may consider ihc biographies of the missionaries as adapted to invigorate the principle of spiritual life, — I refer to the many signal instances of the merciful interposition of Providence which they record. These men and women, in devoting themselves to the missionary work, made up their minds to a life of difficulty and peril. They knew that they were going among people who had scarcely any sym- pathies in common with themselves; that they would be looked upon with an eye of cold suspicion, as being innovators upon the religious systems which had been in vogue for ages; and they could not be certain that even their lives would not become the prey of Pagan barbarity. And though their general previous apprehensions may have been fully realized, and though they may have had to encounter many difficulties which had never entered into their calculations, yet have they been the objects, in a marked degree, of God's providential care and goodness. Obstacles which at first seemed insurmountable have been most unexpectedly and marvellously removed. Dangers which appeared inevitable and appalling have been averted by some instrumentality so marked as well nigh to bear the aspect of a miracle. Doubts in regard to the course of duty which have weighed heavily and for a long time upon the spirit, have, at length, by some sudden turn of circumstances been dissipated in an hour. Bright prospects have been suddenly overcast; sanguine hopes of good have been overtaken with disappointment, the most useful lives have been, as human wisdom would say, prematurely terminated ; and yet subsequent events have shown that in all these apparently adverse dispensations, an unseen hand has been not only sustaining, but advancing the missionary cause. Those whose memories reach back to the earliest period of American foreign missions, will readily call to mind the deep lamentation that was heard among the churches, on occasion of the death of Harriet Newell ; and yet it has long since ceased to be a matter of doubt that that devoted woman accomplished more by her early death than she would have done by a long life of missionary labour. She was the first American lady who set an example of going among the heathen to die; and there is that in her very name which, to this day, quickens the pulsations of the heart of Christian benevolence all over the world. Her grave was no sooner made than it sent forth a voice of tender expostulation in behalf of the poor Heathen; and that voice has not ye died away, even after the lapse of nearly forty years. 2 18 INTRODUCTION. It is a trite remark that those who will notice providences will never want providences to notice. The missionaries, not only from the earnest character of their piety, but from the trying circumstances in which they are placed, are always looking out for the divine interpositions: they recog- nise the divine hand in events in which others would not look beyond the common course of nature; and what they thus notice and record, ultimately becomes a part of the history of their lives. Hence we find that the recog- nition of Providence in every thing, — in the evil as well as the good, — in the clouds as well as the sunshine, — together with the connecting of events with each other in vindication of the divine goodness, forms a striking char- acteristic of the memoirs of almost all our missionaries. And the spirit which their publications breathe, is the very spirit in which the mass of Christians are more lacking than almost any other. While they profess to acknowledge God's providence, yet in their thoughts and feelings and works, they too often deny it. These publications then meet an important exigency in the experience of most Christians. They are fitted to make them think more of God in the ordinary concerns of life; to suppress the spirit of dis- content and disquietude under the divine allotments; and to render the idea of the divine presence at once a security against temptation, an aid in the discharge of duty, and a support under the burden of calamity. The conclusion on this subject to which we should arrive from a view of the circumstances of the case, is, if I mistake not, fully confirmed by results, so far as they have already been obtained. If we look for the brightest forms of Christian character, for the most enlarged spirit of ben- evolence, the most active and self-denying zeal in the ordinary walks of Christian life, our eye will unquestionably rest upon those who have the deepest interest in the cause of missions; — those who are most familiar witli the labours and trials of our departed missionaries, as presented by them- selves and their biographers. And it is no doubt in no inconsiderable degree, by the contemplation and study of these interesting records, that ihese earnest Christians, who constitute tlie strength and glory of the church, have attained to their high measure of spirituality. Let the lives of our missionaries then be studied as a means of brightening the Christian graces, tind growing in Christian usefulness. But there is yet another reason for studying them : it is that they are fitted to act as INTRODUCTION. 1.9 A STIMULUS TO MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. They appeal to our sympathy in aid of the cause of missions by the suferings which they record. Though we rarely find our missionaries giving way to a spirit of complaint or despondency, but on the other hand, often see in them the finest examples of Christian heroism, yet their history, after all, is little more than a history of successive trials and conflicts; and the account which that illustrious missionary, Paul, gave of his perils and cares and sufferings, might, in its general features at least, be considered as a tolerably faithful record of many a modern missionary's experience. Even those whose lot is the least difficult, are exiled from most of the bless- ings which we think of first in estimating our own happy condition; and withal are subjected to many positive hardships and sacrifices, of which we have at best a very inadequate conception. But there are many whose lot is distinguished for severity even amidst sufferers; who, while their tem- poral wants are but sparingly supplied, are exposed to become the victims of Pagan suspicion — perhaps of cannibal barbarity. There are a large number of females connected with the various missions; — females, too, who, in their earlier days, have known the comforts of a quiet and respectable home, and have been brought up in the bosom of competence, if not of affluence. What a change must it be for ihem, to reflect that their once happy home is in another land, and that nothing meets their eye but what tells of the degradation, the pollution, the cruelty, of Paganism ! We receive intelligence of the trials of our missionaries from time to time, tlirough the medium of their journals and other communications; and after their Master has called them home, the story of their sacrifices and suffer- ings is perhaps put forth in a more enduring form, that thus they may continue to make their appeal to the churches after they are dead. Now what is the eff^^ct which these sad details which form so large a part of the memoirs of our departed missionaries are fitted to produce on those who love the missionary cause? The first effect will be to quicken the spirit of Christian sympathy. Those who have departed have indeed done with suffering, and have entered into rest; but others remain labouring in the same field, bearing the same burdens, exposed to the same perils ; and why should not our sympathy for them be as active as it ougiit to have been for those who are now no longer subjects of it? If it belongs to the 20 INTKODUCTION. Christian spirit to exercise a fellow-feeling towards all who are in distress, is it not especially obligatory upon us to extend our sympathy to tliose who are doing a work of common interest to them and to us — a work in which they have benevolently volunteered to become the immediate agents? And if our sympathy be awakened in their behalf, it will lead us to pray for them with greater constancy and fervour: when our hearts melt within us in view of what we know of their sufferings and trials, we shall pleail more earnestly with the Father of all mercies to be a wall of fire round about them, to impart to them richly of the supports of his grace; and to give them, in the increased success of their labours, fresh tokens of his approbation. And if our sympathy prompts us to pray for them in sincerity, it will prompt us no less to act in accordance with our prayers; in other words, to contribute according to our ability, of our substance, to soften the severity of their lot, and increase their means of usefulness. The trials of the dead plead with us in behalf of the living: let us do something to sus- tain and comfort them, before the record of what they have suffered, shall address itself to Christians of another generation. But while the memoirs of these heroic men and women appeal to our sympathies by the sufferings which they record, not less do they encourage our hopes by the manifold evidences of success which they furnish. The absolute promise of God, that the nations shall ere long all be subdued to the gracious reign of the Mediator, ought to be enough to keep up the Christian's courage in the darkest hour, and to induce him to labour perse- veringly in the face of the most appalling obstacles. But sad experience shows that the faith of most Christians is apt to flag, unless it is sustained by some visible tokens of the divine favour ; and in the great work of con- verting the world especially, we naturally look to see whether the measure of success bestowed is proportioned to the degree of effort put forth. Now it has come to pass in the providence of God, that the labours of many of our modern missionaries have been attended with even an abundant blessing. They have entered into fields which have proved wliite already to harvest; ■ and it has seemed, as in the case of the Sandwich Islands, that nothing remained to be done but to thrust in the sickle. There are instances not a few in which, when these self-denied persons commenced their missionary career, they found themselves in the midst of a population on which not one ray of the Sun of Righteousness had ever fallen ; a population whose INTRODUCTIO^T. 21 religion was nothing better than a compound of superstition, impurity and cruelty; and yet before the time had come for writing their history, they have seen around them not a small number of earnest and devoted Chris- tians, who had been raised from the degradation of Paganism; schools in which many Pagan children were acquiring a Christian education; and the whole aspect of things softened and brightened by the hallowed influence of the gospel. Time was when their prayers, if not absolutely solitary, were the prayers of literally two or three gathered together; but they lived to see the time when the notice of a prayer meeting would call together a goodly assembly of devout souls, and those who came would never fail to thank God that He had caused the light to shine upon them amidst the deepest darkness. Nearly all the missionary biographies that have been given to the world, while they exhibit a large amount of sacrifice and suf- fering,— many instances of hopes deferred, and prospects overcast, and hearts bleeding under the rod, — exhibit yet more of the triumphs of God's truth and grace, in multiplying, even from the most hopeless materials, glorious specimens of the new creation. Who that reads what Eliot and Brainard accomplished for the poor Indians, or what many of our modern missionaries have accomplished for the Sandwich islanders, for the inhabitants of China, or Hindostan, Turkey, or Syria, — who that reads these records of human effort crowned with God's blessing, but will feel his confidence renewed in the certain triumph of the missionary cause. Let not the ill-natured skeptic, nor yet the half-way Christian, assault me with cavils or doubts in regard to the universal triumph of Christianity. Let neither the one nor the other attempt to weaken my faith or paralyze my efforts by persuading me that there is that in Paganism that will never yield to any influence that can be brought to bear upon it. If he will thus insult me and my religion, I will answer him out of the lives of the missionaries — I will read to him passages that show indubitably that they have not laboured in their own strength; that nothing at which their missions aim, is too hard for Omnipotence ; and that they have only to keep on labouring in the spirit of those who have gone before them, and with the measure of success which the past justifies to their hopes, to accomplish, under God, every thing that prophecy has foretold or faith anticipates. Is there any thing that is so well fitted to call forth vigorous effort in any 22 IXTRODUCTION. cause as the confident hope of success? If I have but faint hopes of accomplishing an object, — no matter how desirable — the languor of my hopes will be likely to impart itself, as an enervating influence to my efforts; whereas if I look with confident expectation to the attainment of my end, while yet I realize that there can be no success apart from exertion, I am in a state of mind to labour most perseveringly and effectively ; and it is scarcely nnore certain that the object which I aim at is within my reach, than that it will be attained. I read the lives of the missionaries, and I see that they have not laboured in vain. I have evidence not to be resisted that the hand of God has already wrought wonders through their instrumentality. Shall I not then, shall not all my fellow-Christians around me, sliall not the wliole church, animated by the assurance of success, conveyed not only by the word of God, but by the providence of God, — rise up to a tone of more vigorous effort in this great cause ? Shall not every heart be strength, ened and every hand nerved afresh, for new assaults upon the empire of the prince of darkness? There is another consideration here which we may not forget — each mis- sionary biography that is written tells of another active labourer withdrawn from the missionary ranks, and of course of a vacancy to be filled by some one devoted to the same high vocation. In reading their instructive works, we do right to pause, and thank God for all that he has accomplished by the subjects of them; and it is almost a thing of course that we follow them to their glorious reward ; that we think of them as shouting louder hallelujahs because they have come out of great tribulation. But who shall take up the implements of spiritual labour on earth which they have laid down? who shall succeed to them in their efforts to enlighten and save the poor heathen? Who shall carry forward the work in which they were actively engaged — who shall water the plants of righteousness which have already begun to spring up under their diligent and well-directed culture — who shall quicken the upward tendencies of the spirit that had already begun to rise, and secure to Heaven that which is yet exposed to hell ? The answer to these questions falls on the ear and the heart of the church, as a matter of most impressive significance. Other devoted men must enter into the labours of those who are departed. If death takes away from the mission- ary ranks, yet he must not be allowed to thin them; for the zeal and charity -)f the church must not only supply the places of those whom he numbers INTRODUCTION. 23 as his victims, but must constantly add fresli recruits, with a view to extend and quicken these benevolent operations. It is delightful to reflect that each missionary who is called to liis I'est should thus make provision by the appeal which he sends forth from his grave for filling his place, and that the tidings of his death in connection with the story of his life should come to a thousand hearts as an argument for renewed diligence in the mis- sionary work. Let it be remembered then that the memoirs of our devoted missionaries will not have fully accomplished their work, unless their eflfect is felt in a deeper sense of obligation on the part of the church, not only to keep good, but to increase the missionary ranks. Each of these works, as it comes from the press, embalming some honoured and endeared name, calls upon the whole body of the faithful to engage more vigorously, especially in fur- nishing suitable labourers for the conversion of the world. It calls upon our Education societies to extend their patronage, especially to those who are looking towards the missionary field ; while they are careful to encourage none who, on any account, are disqualified for such a destination. It calls upon our young men who hope they have felt the quickening influence of God's Spirit, and are directing their thoughts to the Christian ministry, to remember the millions who are sitting in the region of the shadow of death, and to inquire whether it may not be their duty to carry them the light of life. It calls upon the heads of our Theological seminaries, to cherish with watch- ful and earnest solicitude the missionary spirit among those whose education they superintend ; encouraging, so far as they can, every hopeful disposi- tion for this field of labour. It calls upon Christian parents to strive to the extent of their ability for the conversion of their children, not merely that they may thereby escape hell and obtain Heaven, nor yet merely that they may be honoured as instruments of good to their fellow-creatures, but that, if God will, they may labour directly for the salvation of the poor heathen, and have an important agency in this way in the ultimate conversion of the world. I repeat, — the memoirs of each departed missionary is a standing monition not only to repair the waste of morality, not only to strengthen the things that remain that are ready to die, but to give new life to the mission- ary enterprize, till there no longer remains any part of the territories of darkness that is not enlightened. 24 INTRODUCTION. The preceding train of tliought, I trust, not only justifies, but honours the efforts which are made from time to time to perpetuate the memories of those who have laboured with signal fidelity and success in the missionary field. It is not too much to say that many of the most attractive as well as edifying works of Christian biography belong to this class ; and if there are among them some of inferior interest, yet there are kw, if any, which have not their sphere of usefulness. It was a happy thought in the pro- jectors of the present work to bring together in a glorious group so many names which, by common consent, have illumined the records of the mis- sionary enterprise. Though the notices of the several individuals are necessarily brief, to be included within the limits prescribed, yet each article will be found long enough to present, in an impressive manner, an exalted character and a useful life. As these pages, at once historical and commemorative, are read and pondered by the followers of Christ, may the missionary cause receive fresh accessions in both numbers and strength, and may those who are hereafter to engage in this work be the more devoted and the more successful from having contemplated the heroic and martyr-like spirit of so many who have gone before them. A YIE ¥ EARLIER MISSIONARY ENTERPRISES. [The missionary enterprise was styled by John Foster "the glory OF THE AGE." ■ There is an important sense in which the appellation is just for until within little more than a half century past modern Christendom has not, since the reformation, been aroused to attempt the conquest of the world. [As civilization seeks out the farthest nations, to unite them by ties of commercial interest in one great commonwealth of states, the church, in a Hke spirit, of enlarged enterprise, girds herself to extend over all tliat kingd€>hi which "is not meat and drink," nor wealth and art, "but righteousness and peace." While, however, considered as a comprehensive scheme, planned upon a scale larger than the wisdom of Providence permit- ted earlier generations to deviseJTthe missionary work of the present "SfiJCy- has a character of its own, the enterprise itself is the same which was originally committed to the church by her adorable Head; and the spirit in which it is carried on is but a revival of that which animated the apostles and their immediate successors, and which in various degrees has been manifested during the inter- vening agesT^ As the present work concerns itself only with men whose nam( s and memory are "the glory of this age," it is not inappropriate' first to take a rapid glance at earlier missionary achievements, the record of which did much to kindle the flame that now burns so brightly on the evangelical altar. If the apostles did not literally go "into all the world," according to the terms of their commission, they went fearlessly as far as Divine Providence opened the way, and in conjunction with a body of faithful coadjutors, laid the foundation of churches in a large portion of the Eoman empire and regions beyond the reacli of 26 A VIEW OF EARLIER Iloman arms. It is the testimony of the apostle of the Geutiles, that "not many great, not many mighty, not many noble" were called. The disciples were poor and despised, but their liberality is in some instances specially commended in the apostolic epistles, and attested by pagan writers. Their zeal for the faith sustained them against reproach, persecution and death, and armed by the divine power of their doctrines, confirmed for a time by miraculovis agency, was irresistible by Jewish and pagan hate or imperial power. The apostles traversed Judea and a considerable portion of Western Asia, Macedonia, Greece and the ^gean isles, and preached Christ in the city of Rome. And though implicit credit can hardly be given to all that tradition has preserved of their travels, it is nearly certain that by them and their immediate successors during the first century, Christianity was carried eastward as far as the Indus, west- ward to Britain, and southward into the continent of Africa, while some hold that both Ceylon and Continental India were evangelized by St. Thomas. The concurrent testimony of both Christian and pagan writers shows the church, during the second and third cen- turies, to have overcome the ancient superstitions in southern and western Europe, and in the succeeding century Christianity was dis- tinctly elevated to the height of worldly grandeur by the Emperor Constantine. It cannot be necessary to point out the identity between the pro- gress of the primitive church and those operations which are now distinguished as missionary. The object sought was the conversion of the nations, — the motive, obedience to express command, — the means, preaching the truth, — the instruments, men set apart to the work, and sustained by the contributions, prayers and sympathies of their brethren; and the same objects are now sought in essen- tially the same manner, with such circumstantial differences of method in detail as convenience suggests and experience has sanc- tioned. In the view of some there is a marked disparity of success in the two cases, but when the modern missionary enterprise shall have completed a century, of which little more than half has now elapsed, such a comparison will be more just. In speaking of those early times, as the exploits of a century or two flit through the mind, or are fluently uttered by the tongue, the actual lapse of years is not always appreciated at the moment. The corruption of the church, which was hastened by its alliance with the state till it ultimately ripened into the great Papal apostacy, MISSIONAKY ENTERPRISES. 27 and the distraction of heresies, combined to arrest this progress, and the subsequent rise of the Mohammedan power tended to place Christendom in a defensive rather than an aggressive attitude. Yet in the pauses of these mighty movements, through the darkest ages that preceded the Keformation, nominal Christianity was diffused by zealous missionaries, by political strategy or by force of arms, through the rest of Europe. If the legends of Rome are to be believed, these ages were more fruitful in heroic zeal and miraculous attesta- tions of the faith than that of the apostles themselves, and the further we descend into the dusky shadow of the middle ages, the greater are the demands upon our credulity. Yet while rejecting these audacious fictions, and estimating at their true value the triumphs of a Cross which was divested in great part of its spiritual significance and moral energy, it would be unjust to deny that much was done for human welfare. The church of Rome was the faithful custodian, if not a faithful interpreter of the Scriptures. With these, in com- pany with much fearful error, was diffused also much healthful truth, and where even thus much cannot be said, and conversion was little more than the assumption of the Christian name, though it might be likened to the raising up of an army of dry bones, these skeleton churches were at least made ready to receive breath from the inspiration of the Almighty, when the fulness of time had come for the Reformation to assert the dishonoured doctrines of primitive Christianity. That great event, however, was followed by no such revival of missionary zeal as might have been anticipated from the profoundly spiritual elements that gave to it its original impulse. The arm of secular power was raised at once for the extinction and for the defence of the reformed faith, and the alliance of Protestantism with the state transferred the contest from the pulpit and the press to the circles of diplomacy and the field of battle. The fact that a thirty years' war was among the issues of a religious reformation, melan- choly as it is in itself, is more sad as a symptom of the fundamental error that mingled itself with the movement in its beginning. That grand absurdity, — if a solecism so fatal in its results have not redeemed itself by the immensity of its mischiefs from such a title, — of a territorial religion, by which a religious profession is made to coincide with civil allegiance, and the church is made parcel of the ordinary municipal law, was fastened upon all Protestant Europe, 28 A VIEW OF EARLIEU with SO powerful a coliesion that no revolutionary sliock has more than temporarily disengaged it. To one who looks at Christianity as revealed in the New Testament, or from the point of view attained in these United States, nothing can be more foreign to its whole spirit and design. But the idea has taken full possession of the European mind, and is now (1851) exhibiting its power in a remark- able degree, in the agitation which has pervaded all classes of Eng- lish Protestants, churchmen and dissenters, at the assumption of territorial titles by Roman Catholic prelates.* Through every form the movement has assumed, we see at bottom the one dominant error that is the worst bane of European Protestantism, — that reli- gion has its seat not only in individual human affections as swayed by Divine influences, but in the soil, in tlie local organization of societ}^, in the municipal law of the land. The effect of this original error was to make the reformed churches, except for purposes of common defence, isolated commu- nities, fixed almost as closely to their territorial limits as the civil powers on which they leaned for support. Systematic aggression, on Christian principles, upon the limits of pagaiiism and the bap- tized heathenism of Papal countries, was hardly thought of, and the din of war must have soon suspended them if they had been attempted. While the church of Rome, tlioroughly centralized, and possessing a rigid exterior unity, acted with unity of design throughout Europe, and sent forth zealous missionaries among the heathen of the old and the new world, Protestant Christendom was both dogmatically and politically divided. " The Church of England," says Mr. Macaulay, "existed for England alone. It was an institu- * There has been unquestionably a complicated mixture of motives in this singu- lar agitation, but no one can consider it in connection with antecedent events and manifestations of public opinion, without perceiving the dominion of this sentiment. Tliat papal bishops and priests should have tlie amplest ficillties for proselytism, — which is no more than proper; that a powerful body of perjured ecclesiastics and heads of colleges, sworn to the defence of Protestant doctrine, should, with scarcely a decent attempt at justification, employ the rich endowments of the church and the universi- ties to propagate an undisguised Romanism in every thing but the name, — which has been for full fifteen years the scandal of the Anglic:m church; these things drew alike from church and conventicle little more than a faint remonstrance. But the intelligence thit the Pope presumed to call Dr. Wiseman Archbishop of Wext- jiiinster, instead of choosing for him a title from some city in Utopia or the Cannibal Islands, raised a storm of patriotic wrath and Protestant fury, entirely novel to the present generation. / MISSIONARY ENTERPRISES. 29 tion as purely local as the court of Common Pleas."^' Aud the same was true of the reformed churches of the contineut. As a consequence, the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries witnessed no missionary enterprises on the part of European Protestants, except an ineffectual attempt at Geneva, in 155 6jJ:o establish a missionin Brazilj and the founding of a mission in Lapland three years after- 2- wards, under the patronage of the king of Sweden. The nominal 2 results of Dutchprosel^tism iii^Cejlon do not deserve to be treated as an exception. Upon the conquest of that island it was enacted that no native should be admitted to anj' emploj^ment under gov- ernment, unless he became a member of the reformed church, and subscribed the Ilelvetic Confession. As tlie candidates had only to be christened, and to recite the Lord's Prayer and the ten command- ments, multitudes flocked to the font. Such a profanation of Chris- tian ordinances we might desire, for the good name of Protestant Christendom, to consign to eternal forgetfulness. With the beginning of the eighteenth century the dawn of modern missions broke upon Europe.f In 1705, Frederick lY., King of Denmark, sent two missionaries, Bartholomew Ziegenbalg and Henry Plutcho, to attempt the evangelization of India. They established themselves at Tranquebar, on the coast oi^oromandel, acquired the Tamil language, aud commenced preaching with considerable effect. They also founded a free school. They experienced much opposition from the resident European population, but continued firmly at their posts, and were shortly cheered by the arrival of three associates and a considerable sum of money. In 1710, the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, established in London about twelve years before for the purpose of publishing and circulating religious books, extended to them its patronage, and furnished them with a printing press. A font of Tamil types was secured through the liberality of friends in Germany, and they afterwards erected a type foundry and paper mill. They were thus enabled, in the year 1715, to issue an edition of the Scriptures in Tamil, translated by Ziegenbalg. This devoted pioneer, and one of his colleagues, * Edinburgh Review, October, 1840. — On Ranke's History of the Popes. f The light may be said to have first broken in the west, in the preceding century, the missionary success of the settlers of New-England liaving, to some extent at least, as we shall see hereafter, been instrumental in exciting tiie zeal of Christiana in the old world. 30 A VIEW OF EARLIER Grundler, were called to their eternal reward witliiii five years. The work was prosecuted with constancy and enlarged success by the surviving band. A flourishing mission was commenced at Madras in 1728j and shortly after, by the conversion of an inferior officer in the army of the rajah of Tanjore, an opening was made for the introduction of Christianity into that country. In 1737, the Madras Mission extended its operations to Cuddalore, where, after overcom- ing much opposition, they laboured with encouraging effect. The capture of Madras by the French was followed by the laying waste of the mission premises, but on the return of peace the loss was made up by the government. In 1752, the renewal of hostilities between the French and English caused such an interruption of all evangelical effort, that Rev. Mr. Kiernander left Cuddalore, and established himself in Calcutta, where he held forth the word of life for thirty years. In 1750, Rev. Christian Frederick Swartz arrived at Tranquebar, and entered upon those apostolic labours which have linked his name imperishably with the establishment and progress of Christianity in India. He had gained some knowledge of the Tamil while at the university, to aid in examining the proofs of a version of the Scriptures in that language, an incident which is supposed to have suggested to him the design of devoting himself to missionary life. On his arrival he pursued his studies with such ardour and success, that in four months he commenced preaching. His labours Avere indefatigable, in public and private, in Tranquebar, Trichinopoly, Tanjore and throughout the Carnatic, for the space of fifty years. His purity, sincerity and disinterestedness won the confidence of all classes, and those even who rejected his doctrine gave him the tribute of their unaffected veneration. In the distracting wars that marked that portion of the history of British India, his active ben- evolence was exerted to relieve misery which he could not prevent, and more than once he was sent to negotiate treaties, as the only European who would be trusted by the natives. When a garrison was threatened with flimine, and the people could not be induced to furnish provisions, through fear that the supplies they offered would be seized without compensation, they accepted the security of the venerated missionary for the whole amount needed. He rendered important services both to the British and to the native princes, yet scrupulously avoided receiving any gifts or emoluments that miight taint him with the suspicion of mercenary motives, and sedulously MISSIOXARY ENTEEPRISES. 81 guarded liimself from being involved in any transactions tliat might impair his influence as a Christian and a preacher of the gospel. Witb all the humility of a child and the wisdom of mature experi- ence, the harmlessness of a dove and the wisdom of the serpent, he was enabled to testify to the truth in every place and among all grades of society. At his death he was mourned as a father, and the rajah of Tanjore erected a monument to his memory, with an inscription which is remarkable as the only specimen of English \'erse attempted hj an Indian prince. At the death of Swartz the native Christians connected with the mission were counted by thousands. The fruit of his toils was rapidly gathered by his successors. Bishop Heber, writing in 1826, says, " There are in the south of India about two hundred Protest- ant congregations," and he estimated their number at about fifteen thousand. Many were undoubtedly merely nominal Christians, as the Lutheran Missionaries were much less exacting in the qualifica- tions they demanded for admission to the sacraments, than later missionaries have felt it their duty to be ; yet considering the purity of their preaching and the devout spirit in which their labours were conducted, a large measure of piety must have been the result. These missions have since come under the patronage of the London Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, and the superintendence of the Anglican Bishop of Calcutta. Less cheering in its results, but memorable for self-sacrifice and patient endurance, was the Danish mission to Greenland, commenced in 1721^ by Rev. Hans Egede. This devoted man had for thirteen years felt a desire to convey the gospel to that inhospitable country, and made repeated ineffectual attempts to carry it into execution. At length he succeeded in raising a subscription of eight thousand rix dollars, and purchased a ship to convey himself and several set- tlers, who proposed to winter in Greenland. The King sanctioned and aided the enterprise, and settled upon Mr. Egede a salary of three hundred dollars a-year. On their arrival they proceeded to erect a habitation, much to the displeasure of the natives, who called on their conjurors to destroy them. Mr. Egede attempted, without success, to convey to the people a knowledge of the most important facts of revealed truth b}^ pictures, but the following year he gained some familiarity with the language, and was able to undertake oral instruction. The arrival of a collcngue in the succeeding year, 32 A VIEW OF EARLIER cstrengthened his hands, but though the people listened attentively to what was told them, thej showed no personal interest in his preaching. Some of them, indeed, seemed pleased with the doc- trine of the immortality of the soul, but the impression jjroduced was faint, and their curiosity was soon satisfied. In 1728, the king of Denmark resolved on prosecuting the work with increased energy, and a large colony, with additional mission- aries, was sent out, and established a new settlement two hundred miles northward of Good Hope, the station founded by Mr. Egede. But the severity of the winter and the ravages of a malignant dis- ease made them discontented, and the accession of Christian YI. to the Danish throne put an end to the enterprise. The colonists were ordered home, Mr. Egede's salary was stopped, and he was offered the alternative of returning with the rest, or remaining on his own responsibility with such persons as he could induce to stay with him. He obtained a supply of provisions for one year, and ten men to remain during the winter, and with a heavy heart bade adieu to his two colleagues, who returned with the colony. A vessel arrived the next year with provisions, and having a valuable return cargo, the king was encouraged to renew the trade, and made a generous donation to the mission. This intelligence gave fresh strength to the lonely missionary, but his faith was doomed to a severer trial. A young Greenlander, who had visited Denmark, came back, and shortly after died of a disease that proved to be the small-pox. The contagion spread rapidly, and raged for twelve nionths, with such fatal effect, that for thirty leagues north of the settlement the country was almost wholly depopulated. Such was the alarm and consternation of the natives at this visitation, that many committed suicide. Mr. Egede, in conjunction with the Moravian missionaries, who had recently arrived in the countrj^, did all that untiring benevolence could do, to alleviate the physical suf- ferings, and comfort the hearts of the unhappy Greenlanders; they were much affected by his kindness, and manifested the liveliest gratitude. The mission was reinforced in 1734, by the arrival of three assist- ants, one of them a son of Mr. Egede. The venerable pioneer, regarding the number as wholly inadequate, returned to Denmark. His representations led to the establishment of several new colonics, and the sending of additional missionaries. But the efficiency and interest of the Danish mission shortly declined. It had not beeu MISSIONARY ENTERPRISES. S3 wholly in vain, but its fruits were scanty, and the chief agency in imparting Christianity to Greenland, was now manifestly committed to the United Brethren or Moravians. This extraordinary band of Christian disciples, the feeble remnant of a once numerous body, that for a century and a half, against powerful enemies, maintained the doctrines of revealed truth in Bohemia and Poland, found a refuge from persecution on the estate of Count Zinzendorf, at Bethels-dorf, in Upper Lusatia. Thousands had been driven into banishment, and in their scattered condition they and their descendants had either been absorbed into other communions, or had lost, in a great measure, the power of that faith which had been sealed with the blood of so many martyrs and con- fessors. The whole congregation at Hernhutt, the name by which their settlement in Lusatia was known, did not exceed six hundred persons. Yet so ardent was their zeal for the honour of their Lord, that in ten years they sent forth missionaries to Greenland, the West Indies, Africa, North and South America, and their enter- prises have been crowned with a success proportioned more to the simplicity and earnestness of their faith, than to their apparent resources. The language of a distinguished English essayist,* although somewhat too sweeping in its terms, has a basis in truth : "The nations which separated themselves from Popery, protested against the pontiff, but did not pronounce for Christ. Small com- munities, and only very small ones did; principally the Moravians," Without assenting to the negative proposition in its full breadth, it cannot be gainsaid that this humble company of saints showed an unworldly, self-sacrificing devotion, that contrasted most signally with the prevailing spirit of more powerful churches. It was in the year 1732 that, after some conversation on the pos- sibility and duty of conveying the gospel to heathen nCw^-ions, two young men, Matthew and Christian Stach, offered to go as mission- aries to Greenland, and in the ensuing spring proceeded to Copen- hagen, to make arrangements for their voyage. "There was no need," says one of them, "of much time or expense for our equip- ment. The congregation consisted chiefly of poor exiles who had not much to give, and we ourselves had nothing but the clothes on our backs. We had been used to make shift with little, and did * Will tor Saviige Landor 34 A VIEW OF EARLIER not trouble ourselves how we should get to Greenland, or how we should live there. The day before our departure, a friend in Vienna sent r, donation, and a part of this we received for our journey to Copenhagen. We now therefore considered ourselves richly pro- vided for, and would accept nothing from any person on the road, believing that He who had sent to us so timely a supply, would fur- nish us with every thing requisite for accomplishing our purpose." No words could portray the spirit of their holy enterprise more vividly than this artless statement. No wonder that He, who had not where to lay his head, and yet ever went about doing good, honoured the faith of these humble disciples! At Copenhagen, they were kindly received by the king, who approved of their purpose, and gave them a letter in his own hand, commending them to the friendship of Mr. Egede. Without solicit- ation they were provided by many excellent persons, who admired their zeal, with sufficient money to defray the cost of their voyage, materials for a house, and a variety of necessary articles for their settlement. On their arrival in Greenland, they established them- selves at a place which they named New Hernhutt, and under the instruction of Mr. Egede, commenced the study of the language, which they learned with great difliculty. The terrible visitation of the small-pox, shortly after, engrossed their attention, and after it was over they were attacked by a violent disorder, by which they nearly lost the use of their limbs. On their recovery, so great was their discouragement at the depopulation of the country and the indisposition of the natives to associate with them, that they begau to think of returning to Europe, when the arrival of two assistants in 1734, and the information that the congregation at Hernhutt were resolved to support them to the utmost of their power, renewed their courage. During the first five years of their settlement they endured great hardships, and found almost insuperable obstacles in attempt- ing to communicate instruction. Sometimes they were reduced to the verge of starvation. The people were extremely capricious in ^heir treatment of them. Now they would attend with apparent inter- est to their preaching, and again treat it with the utmost contempt; they even displayed at times a degree of personal enmity to the missionaries, which was enough to weary any common measure of benevolence. But in the summer of 1738, an event occurred which confirmed their faith, and at the same time imparted to them a valuable lesson* MISSIONARY ENTERPRISES. 85 One of their number, John Beck, was called upon by a company of natives while transcribing a translation of a portion of the New Testament. They were curious to know what he was writing. After reading to them a few sentences, he gave them a brief account of the creation and the fall of man, and unfolded the plan of redemption, upon which he discoursed with much energy and feeling. He then read from the Gospel of St. Luke, the narrative of Christ's agony in the garden. At this point, one of his auditors, named Kayarnak, stepped forward, exclaiming, "How was that? Let me hear that again; for I, too, am desirous to be saved." The missionary, deeply affected, resumed his discourse, describing the principal scenes in the life of the Saviour, and explaining the way of salvation. While thus engaged, he was joined by his brethren, who had been absent on business; they united with him in uttering "all the words of this life" to the eager listeners. Kayarnak was led to take up his abode with the missionaries for farther instruction, and soon gave evidence that the truth was received into his heart. Others were led by him to receive instruction, and it became evident that the mission was not established in vain. These events were not less admonitory than encouraging to the missionaries. Up to this time they had kept in the back-ground those essential doctrines which they regarded as more sublime and mysterious, aiming to conduct their hearers by a gradual process, dwelling on the attributes of the Deity, the depravity of man, the nature and demands of the divine law. By these events, they were taught the old but still needful lesson, that "the foolishness of God is wiser than men." The doctrine of the Cross vindicated itself as "the power of God and the wisdom of God." Thenceforth they built on this foundation, and it failed them not. At the close of the year 1748, two hundred and thirty -eight Christian Greenlanders were settled at New Hernhutt. The limits of our present sketch do not admit of a full history of this, or of the other missions of the ►fT~ their character made them many friends, and they were encouraged A'f^ to build a third town. So successfal were their labours, that in J^jIj^j 1776 there were four hundred and fourteen Christian Indians on the rtirtt w^Muskingham. tt«i V^ The breaking out of the revolutionary war exposed them to the ^ Z^ same jealous hostility that had proved so fatal in the war of 1755. The Indians of the northwest were allied with Great Britain. The neutrality of the Moravians caused each party to suspect them of favouring the other, and they were alternately threatened with destruction by both. In 1781 the British commander at Detroit sent a force that removed them to the Sandusky river, and then left them in the wilderness, w^here they suffered greatly from famine. A por- tund opportunity. On the 27th of December he baptized the first native convert in that place, a brahmin, whose profession of Christianity profoundly agitated the community. On the last day of the year he was assailed with symptoms of disease in the lungs,- "The work in my hands," he wrote on that day, "requires years to accomplish it; but whether another year will be granted to me for TOO JOHN CHAMBEELAIK. what I am to do, I know not. 0, tliat Avlien my Lord and Master Cometh, I may be found in his work. Now pardon all my sins, 0 thou forgiving God, and crown with blessings this departing year." From this time he declined rapidly, and was able to do but little. In the following October he was advised to try a change of air, and for this purpose proceeded to Calcutta, and thence to the Sand Heads, but without material benefit. His strength was for a brief interval recruited, so that he returned to Monghyr, but all hopes of continued usefulness began again to fade. He looked sadly at the villages he passed, where he longed to preach, but could not. In February, 1819, he revived, and seemed like one from the dead. Cautiously he resumed his ordinary employments, but his ardour was not sufficiently tempered by prudence. He was anxious to finish the translations in which he was engaged, and his efforts dissipated his strength. He bore up with frequent interruptions till September, when his disorder prostrated him for a month. Another voyage to the Sand Heads was serviceable to him, but, as before, over-exertion speedily destroyed its good effects. He could not be quiet. He returned home at the beginning of 1820, and laboured through the spring at his translations, besides preaching four times a- week to the Europeans and seven or eight times to the natives! In the course of the summer he was compelled to intermit some of his labours, but during a considerable part of the time persisted in preaching as many as six discourses a week, besides prosecuting his tasks with the New-Testament in the Hindi language, the translation of which he completed in September. The year 1821 was equally laborious, though he was but the shadow of himself, and it was manifest that he was rapidly wearing out his life. On the first Sabbath in Sep- tember died his friend Brindabun, whom he had baptized in 1809. He spoke at his grave in Hindoostani, and in the evening preached his funeral sermon in English, and administered the Lord's Supper. The next Sabbath he made another and last attempt to preach. He now bade farewell to his flock, then consisting of twelve native members, and went to Calcutta. A voyage to England was recom- mended, a measure which was unquestionably two full years too late, but further labour was out of the question, and he prepared for his departure. For some reasons, not founded, we may be sure, in any want of affection, he chose, with very questionable self-denial, to leave his wife behind to await his desired, but scarcely expected, return to his loved emplo3^ The vessel sailed the second week in JOHN CHAMBERLAIN. 101 November. He was confined to the cabin, and languished for three weeks, where he was found on the morning of December 6th, lifeless upon his bed. His remains were committed to the deep near the island of Cejlon, in lat. 9° 30' N., Ion. 85° E. No human ear was permitted to listen to his dying accents, or to witness his tranquil departure into rest ; but He whom he served in life, watched his pil- low, and received him alone. No description is needed to portray Mr. Chamberlain's character as a missionary. It is recorded in the life we have reviewed ; his works constitute an unequivocal and undying memorial of the man, ardent in the pursuit of his high calling, singularly skilful in the use of means, eminently successful in reaching those for whose sal- vation he laboured. The want of immediate and decisive results was no disappointment to him ; he looked for no such results. His work was preparative. He continually spoke of himself as a pioneer, toil- ing in the forlorn hope of the enterprise, occupying new stations, bringing strange things to the ears of myriads. He knew that his words would not fall to the ground, or be lost "in the vast and wandering air," but hoped that when he should have departed, the good seed would spring up and bear fruit to the honour of his Lord. In this faith he lived and died, and time has justified his confidence. In his private relations he was earnestly beloved by all who knew him. His warm temperament exposed him to the danger of giving offence when engaged in controversy, and he did not always guard himself sufficiently against it, but familiar acquaintance never failed to vindicate the essential kindliness of his nature. In his intercourse with the natives he manifested a gentleness and moderation that con- ciliated them to his message, and was more effectual than the most persuasive speech to show the worth of the religion he preached. He knew himself, and was quick to discern the characters of others. This knowledge of human nature gave him great power in his work. His humility was remarkable, and he always cherished a feeling of gratitude for the least blessing he received, whether human or divine. His talents were not splendid, but they were exerted with conscientious diligence. His temper was ardent, but burned "with an unconsuming fire of light" habitually kindled from above. Others may have pursued more dazzling, but few more useful, blameless, or happy lives, than that of John Chamberlain. HENRY MARTIN. Henry Martyn was born at Truro, in the county of Cornwall, England, February 18, 1781. His father was originally a common labourer in the mines at Gwenap, but qualified himself by study in the intervals of labour for the situation of chief clerk in a counting- house, affording him an easy income. Henry was placed, in the eighth year of his age, at the grammar school in Truro. He was regarded as a boy of uncommon promise, and his proficiency in class- ical studies justified the expectations that had been formed of him. Indeed, his ease of acquisition was such that he was exposed to the temptation of relying too much on the quickness of his powers, and to fail in due application to study. He appeared like an idler, but performed his tasks with great readiness, as if he had learned them by intuition. Having inherited a weak constitution, and by no means an adept in the ordinary pastimes of boys, Henry suffered from the overbearing tyranny of some of his stouter associates, who had little sympathy with his shy and retiring disposition. But his gentle and inoffensive demeanour made him friends, and one older than himself became his protector. In this school he continued till his fourteenth year, when he was sent to Oxford as a candidate for a vacant scholarship in Corpus Christi College. He sustained himself so well that in the opinion of some of the examiners he ought to have been elected, but was unsuccessful, and returned to his school, where he remained two 3^ears longer. His mind was directed, in the spring of 1797, to the Universit}' of Cambridge. The schoolmate whose counsel and protection had stood him in such stead, had entered there upon a highly successful course, and he naturally felt a desire to continue a relation that was mutually satisfactory. He was accordingly entered at St. John's College, and commenced his residence there in October. The beginning of bis academic career was not promising. His time was wasted on favourite diversions and books, "attributing," he says, "to a want of taste for mathematics, what ought to have been ascribed to idleness." The standino; he obtained in his first 104 HENEY MARTYN. examinatiou showed that he had not Avholly wasted his powers, and in the following summer he reached the second place in the first class, to which distinction the judicious counsel of his friend, restraining his youthful waywardness, probably contributed not a little. During this and the succeeding year, Mr Martyn's talents imfolded themselves with increasing distinctness as of no ordinary kind. He was unwearied in application, and generally unexceptionable in his conduct. An irritabilit}^ of temper was indeed occasionally manifest, and once proved nearly fatal to a friend, at whom, in a paroxysm of anger, he hurled a knife, which missed its object, and was fixed trembling in the wall. But his character in most respects was esti- mable, and such as won general regard. His religious views, how- ever, were indefinite, and his ruling motives worldly. The duty of studying not chiefly for its own, or his own sake, but for the Divine glory, though he acknowledged its reasonableness, seemed strange when suggested in conversation. On visiting his friends in the summer vacation of 1799, his religious obligations were affection- ately urged upon him by a pious sister, with no good eftect at the time ; but the very resistance which he made to motives that his judg- ment could not but approve, awakened a more vivid consciousness of his moral deficiencies. He afterwards recurred, with expressions of deep self-abasement, to the circumstances of this visit. At the Christmas examination of this year, he was first, an honour flattering to himself, and the more exquisitely gratifying from the delight it gave his father. But his joy was speedily turned into sorrow, by the intelligence of his father's death, an event for which he was wholly unprepared, and which laid a heavy burden of grief on his susceptible spirit. In this hour of mourning, his thoughts naturally turned towards that eternal state into which his parent had entered, and to which his own spirit was bound. "Yet," he says, "I still read the Bible unenlightened, and said a prayer or two, rather through terror of a superior power than from any other cause. Soon, however, I began to attend more diligently to the words of our Saviour in the New-Testament, and to devour them with delight; when the offers of mercy and forgiveness were made so freely, I supplicated to be made partaker of the covenant of grace, with eagerness and hope." From this time, though he afterwards looked back, from the elevation of a piety such as is not often attained, with some measure of distrust respecting the state of his affections in the dawn of his religious life, he seems to have gone forward, HENRY MARTYN. 105 with an increasing steadiness of purpose and vigour of pursuit, in the way of Christian improvement. The examination for degrees in the University now approaching, his mind was directed with ardour to his mathematical studies. Much was expected of him ; the result of the examination might have a momentous bearing on his success in life; and he felt that the circumstances required watchfulness, lest his heart should be too much set upon the distinctions of the hoar. As he entered the Sen- ate-house among the crowd of able competitors, he might have been jjardoned for giving way to the ambitious promptings that are so natural to a strong and aspiring intellect in the flush of youth. But at this moment there rushed upon his recollection the severe and authoritative warning, "Seekest thou great things for thyself? Seek THEM NOT, SAITH THE LoRD." His Spirit was tranquillized, and the calmness with which he set about his task undoubtedly gave him additional power. The highest academical honour was conferred upon him in January, 1801, at which time he had not completed the twentieth year of his age. Yet he was not dazzled by the splendours of such a prize. It was inadequate to satisfy a mind that had known "the powers of the world to come." He says, "I had obtained my highest wishes, but was surprised to find that I had grasped a shadow." Eeturning to his home to receive the congratulations of his friends, his sister alone was disappointed, in finding his religious progress less marked than she had fondly, perhaps too eagerly, anticipated. He spent the summer vacation in Cambridge, where he was much in solitude, and improved it to the happy increase of his spiritual resources. The acquaintance he was permitted to form with Rev. Charles Simeon, whose influence on the university, and through that upon the church and the whole body of society, was for many years the instrument of widely diffusing the spirit and power of evangelical religion, proved a valuable auxiliary to his better im- pulses. By him he was introduced to a number of young men, with whom he formed a lasting friendship, dignified by all the graces of the Christian character. From him also he derived higher views of the importance and intrinsic honour of the Christian ministry to v.'hich he soon devoted himself, having hitherto looked forward to tlie legal profession. He was now for a time employed in instructing some pupils, till ])is election as a fellow of St. John's College, in March, 1802. He soon after won the first prize for Latin prose composition, and with 106 HENRY MAKTYN. these added honours departed on a visit to his relatives in Cornwall. The daj^s that he spent in the society of his friends were among the most joyous of his life. In his hours of retirement he indulged in sacred meditations, that fed the flame of devotion, while the absence of distracting objects enabled him to fix his attention more exclu- sively upon the study of the Scriptures. In the autumn of this year he returned to his engagements in the university. The months that followed formed an important era in his life. From some remarks of Mr. Simeon on the labours of Dr. Carey and his associates in Bengal, and the reading of David Brain- ard's apostolic labours among the Indians, his thoughts were turned to the missionary enterprise. He had already fixed his mind on the duties of the ministry; he now conceived the design of seeking his field of labour in the dark places of the earth. It was no light matter for one endowed with such rare powers wholly to resign the thought of exerting them in a society affording such scope for their exercise as his native England. It cost no small struggle to silence the pleadings of a nature possessed of exquisite susceptibilities for the enjoyments of Christian society, of domestic peace and the endearments of kindred and closely-knit friendships. But he felt the promptings of compassion for those perishing for lack of knowl- edge, and of duty to Him Avhose commission he was about to bear, the terms of which extended to "all the world;" and after much devout consideration he devoted himself to the work, and oflered himself for the patronage of the Church Missionarj'' Society. His journal, from this time to that of his ordination, shov/s that he was far from insensible to the difliculties and trials that he must encounter in his labours. At one time he complains that "nothing seems to lie before me but one vast uninteresting wilderness, and heaven appearing but dimly at the end." At another, he "had some disheartening thoughts at the prospect of being stripped of every earthly comfort." Again he says, "Had distressing thoughts about the little prospect of happiness in my future life." Besides these special causes of sorrow, the researches he made into the dejsths of his own nature gave him abasing views of his own character, which are recorded in terms of great energy. The same record of his inte- rior life discloses the sources of his consolation, in the study of the Scriptures, in grateful meditation on the excellences of the gospel and the sublime mysteries of faith, and in much prayer. The ordination of Mr. Martyn occurred at Ely, October 22d, 1803, HENRY MARTYISr. 107 and lie commenced liis clerical duties as curate to Mr. Simeon in tlie church of the Holy Trinity, Cambridge, undertaking at the same time the care of the small parish of Lolworth near the university. Ilis preaching was characterized by great earnestness and solemnity. With that careful watchfulness that distinguished him, he has entered in his journal the fact that in company with a friend he was asked if he were not to be Mr. Simeon's curate, a question which he was for the moment reluctant to answer. It probably was not, it may be remarked, his being a curate that mortified his pride, but that he was to be Mr. Simeon's curate. That excellent person, now revered in memory as a lasting benefactor of the university and of the church, even by those who would be far from assenting to his views of religion, was then the object of reproach and derision as a "mys- tical, methodistical, fanatical" preacher. But such feelings as these, in the breast of one like Henry Martyn, must have been of a tran- sient character. They were detected and sternly repressed on his first consciousness of their existence. Toward the close of this year he was appointed to act as examiner of the university, an office he filled with singular credit to himself, but with great anxiety, lest the absorption of his thoughts in it should work to the prejudice of his more sacred duties. At this time his prospects of missionary service were overcast by the sud- den loss of his little property, in which his younger sister was also involved. To leave England under these circumstances seemed a matter of doubtful propriety. His friends had interested them- selves in soliciting for him a chaplaincy in the service of the East India Company, an offer which would enable him with less hard- ship to undertake missionary labour in their territories. In this emergency it was of more consequence than ever that he should obtain the desired post, and the position of his sister justified some reference to his pecuniary interests; but the application was unsuc- cessful, and he was left in a state of painful uncertainty as to his future course. "While thus unable to discern the way in which he should walk, he devoted himself with increased assiduity to his ministerial work. He preached frequently, visited the sick and dying, the poor and the outcast, was diligent in the work of private instruction and admonition, and sought in every way to fulfil the duties imposed by his ordination vows. Where he had reason to know that his ministrations were useful, he received the assurance with profound 108 HENRY MARTYN. gratitude and humility. "When applause was excited, he shrank from it with dread, lest it should corrupt his Christian simplicity by prompting a vain elation of spirit. He sought to acquire habits of self-denial, and was indefatigable in the use of means to promote his progress in knowledge and in piety. To this end he guarded against every thing that tended to distract the pursuit. If a book excited in him special admiration, he would lay it aside for a time to study the Scriptures, jealous lest any human production should even temporarily usurp that place which rightfully belonged to the inspired Word. In his solitary walks he took care to direct his mind to the contemplation of sacred things, for Avhich purpose he committed to memory passages of the Bible to be always ready to his thoughts. By these and other appropriate methods he studied to be blameless in the minutest particulars of life, and thoroughly famished for the duties he assumed. He did not escape calumny, misrepresentation and ridicule, but he bore them meekly, uncom plainingly, with a forgiving temper, and a reliance on Him who warned his disciples that they must meet the hostility of a world that rejected and crucified their Master. Early in this year he made the acquaintance of Henry Kirke White, whose genius he appreciated, and whose spirit was congenial with his own. He did much to encourage him in his entrance upon that memorable career, whose brilliant morning was so soon to be shrouded in untimely darkness. He was also in the summer again engaged to act as examiner in the university. At the conclusion of the examination, being assured of an appointment as chaplain to the East India Company, he visited his friends in Cornwall preparatory to leaving England. Anxious to make fall proof of his ministry, he hoped for the privilege of preaching there, but the prejudice against his evangelical principles was such that his services were chiefly limited to two churches, where he preached to large and attentive audiences. "The common people heard him gladly." After a season of much enjoyment, tempered by the sadness which could not fail to gather round one anticipating a speedy and final separation, he bade farewell to his sisters and to one dearer than a sister, with inexpressible sorrow that subdued his spirit, and only yielded to a paramount sense of duty.* He made his way to Lon- * The question whether he should go out to India married or single, agitated his mind for some time, but Mr. Cecil gave him such reasons for the latter as convinced him that duty demanded the sacrifice of his affections. HENRY MARTYN. ' 109 don, whence lie returned in September to Cambridge. Here lie resumed his pastoral labours, and pursued them with increased dili- gence and pleasure, and at the close of the year acted for a third time as university examiner. He was admitted to priest's orders in March, 1805, having completed his twenty-fourth year, and received the degree of Bachelor in Divinity. No cause now existing to detain him longer in England, he made immediate preparation to depart. At London his heart was lightened by the happy marriage of his youngest sister, and by the information that two of his friends had resolved on devoting themselves to the same arduous but happy work on which he was entering. During the two months of his sojourn there he applied himself to the study of the Hindoostani language, besides frequently preaching. On the 8th of July he went to Portsmouth, the place of his embarkation. The intensity of his feelings, which he struggled to repress and conceal, was such that he fainted on the wa}^, and was compelled to stop over night. The presence of some of his brethren, and particularly of Mr. Simeon, who came to Portsmouth to bid him farewell, somewhat soothed him. The vessel in which he sailed, with a large fleet, put to sea Jul}^ 17, 1805, and two days after unexpectedly anchored at Falmouth. By this unlooked-for event, Mr. Martyn was compelled to renew the anguish under which his physical energies had once sunk, as he was brought to the near vicinity of his early home and of those friends from whom his sensitive nature so hardly permitted him to part. A short interval was given him to enjoy their society, to be followed by a bitter season of regret. Returning to the vessel he once more put to sea. Compelled, unhappily, to sail in view of the coast for nearly two daj's, his torture was prolonged, and when he was final]}'" borne away from the shores of England, he complained that "all his peace had disappeared." On the 14th, the fleet came to anchor in the cove of Cork, and here he gained at last the calmness of spirit and entire reconciliation to the Divine will, that were sufficient to sustain him in his utmost need. At Cork Mr. Martyn preached regularly, and was indefixtigable in his private ministrations, but found much to discourage him. The officers were indifferent or hostile to his principles, the passen- gers inattentive, and it was not strange if the common sailors and soldiers, though better disposed, partook of the same feeling. When the fleet again put to sea on the 31st of August, and through the 110 HENRY MAETYN". whole course of the voyage to Madeira, this opposition was increased. The officers complained of the severity of his preaching. If he would utter "smooth things," they would hear, but he was signifi- cantly told that he must not "preach about hell" any more. With more firmness than discretion, he answered this warning by taking for his text, the next Sabbath, Psalm ix. 17. — "The wicked shall be turned into hell, with all the nations that forget God." From Madeira they proceeded to San Salvador, Brazil, where several days were spent, after having narrowly escaped destruction by shipwreck. Their course was then to Cape Town, which was attacked and taken. Mr. Mart}^ was greatly concerned at the levity with which the sol- diers went forward to battle, and shocked at the horrors of war. When the British colours were hoisted on the fort he was saddened at the spirit of conquest in which the expedition originated. "I had rather," he says, "be trampled upon, than be the trampler. I could find it more agreeable to my own feelings to go and weep with the relatives of the men whom the English have killed, than to rejoice at the laurels they have won." The voyage from the Cape was attended with much sickness on board the fleet, which proved fatal to many, and kept Mr, Martyn busy in attendance upon the suffering. The opposition he met with from the officers and passengers was more violent than ever, but with the fervour of love he pursued his thankless labours till the 21st of April, 1806, when he was gladdened by the sight of India, nine months from the time of leaving Portsmouth. After being detained a short time at Madras, he reached Calcutta, not without great peril from a hurricane, which dismantled the vessel in which he sailed, and kept them for two hours in the momentary expectation of immediate death. While at Madras Mr. Martyn describes himself as filled with des- pondency. The multitudes of idolaters, and the apparent impossi- bility of their conversion, pressed on his mind and tried his faith, "but God wonderfully assisted me," he says, "to trust him for the wisdom of his dispensations. — How easy for God to do it; and it shall be done in due time ; and even if I should never see a native converted, God may design by my patience and continuance in the work to encourage future missionaries." On his arrival at Calcutta, Mr. Martyn was welcomed by Hev. David Brown to his residence at Aldeen near the city, llere he was attacked with fever, which occasioned his friends great concern- HENKY MARTYN. Ill for a time. On liis recovery lie applied himself to the study of the Hindoostani, and continued in this employment and in the pleasures of Christian society until the beginning of October. During this time his Christian friends in Calcutta earnestly desired that he would make that the scene of his labours. But he was set on other objects, and "to be prevented from going to the heathen", he said, "would almost have broken his heart." The reception he met with on first preaching in that city was not calculated to offer his mind the sti'ongest inducements to remain. He was openly denounced from more than one pulpit; his doctrines were first denied, then misrepresented, then condemned as fanatical and absurd. lie received these assaults, improper as coming from his brother chaplains, as well as unchristian, with a meek and for- giving temper. Another chaplain came to his assistance, by reading instead of a sermon one of the Homilies, in which the doctrines thus maligned are set forth by authority of the Church of England. About this time the order issued by the government against the Baptist mission at Serampore, forbidding them to preach or circulate tracts within the British jurisdiction, grieved him exceedingly, and he expressed himself vehemently against it. Having received an appointment to Dinapore, he prepared to part from the friends with whom he had shared so many happy hours, but not till his heart was strengthened by the arrival of two fellow-labourers from England. On the 15th of October he com- menced his voyage, accompanied for a little distance by Mr. Brown and other friends. On parting from them, and finding himself alone with the natives, he gave himself to study, diversified by conversa- tion with his moonshee and by pauses at different places on the route, where he had the opportunity of conferring with the people. At Berhampore he stopped for one day with the hope of preaching to the soldiers, but the privilege was not granted, and on the 26th of November he arrived at Dinapore. The objects he contemplated at this station were, to acquire suffi- cient knowledge of the Hindoostani to preach in that language, to establish native schools, and to prepare translations of Scripture and religious tracts for circulation. While on his passage he had devised and begun a translation of the parables with comments, which he continued after his arrival. He likewise commenced a translation of the book of Common Prayer into Hindoostani. The discussions he had with his teacher were of a character to wound his spirit at 112 HENRY MARTYN. times, and the natives seemed disposed to receive his approaclics with jealousy. His ministrations to the English residents were commenced with some discomforts. Offence was taken at his extempore preaching, and he was directly requested to discontinue it. Many of them, especially the wealthy, repulsed all his efforts at religious conver- sation. The sentiments current among the Europeans respecting his missionary employments were anj'thing but encouraging, while the necessity of meeting these difficulties alone gave them greater depressive force. His work of translation, however, went rapidly forward. By the 2-lth of February, 1807, his version of the prayer book was completed, and on Sunday, March 15, he commenced a service in Hindoostani, The commentary on the parables was also completed toward the end of this month. His duties on the Sabbath now consisted of an English service at seven in the morning, Hin- doo service at two in the afternoon, and attendance at the hospital, ■ — and in the evening, meeting at his own rooms with soldiers who were seriously inclined. In these duties he found great delight^, heightened by evidence that to some of the officers his instructions were of saving benefit. In the month of June he was requested to give himself with more exclusiveness to completing the translation of the New-Testament in the Hindoostani, and to undertake a Persian version, tasks upon which he entered with alacrity. He was soon after deeply afflicted by the intelligence of the death of his eldest sister. The severity of the blow was mitigated by the knowledge that she departed in the sure hope of a blessed resurrection, and by the anticipation of a reunion at that day. But greatly as he was moved by this intelli- gence, he would not suffer it to divert him more than a single day from his appointed tasks. The schools, of which several had been established, were mean- Vv^hile well attended. No Christian books were introduced at first, as Mr. Martyn was anxious to proceed very gradually, that the jeal- ousy of the natives might not break up the schools, and thus destroy one important agency in which he relied for future success in dis- seminating the word of truth. He now put the sermon on the mount into the hands of the pupils, a measure that met with no opposition, and the success of which naturally afforded him great pleasure. The arrival of two assistants in the work of translation gave a fresh impulse to his mind. These were Mirza, of Benares, a widely- HENRY MARTYJST. 113 known Hindoostani scholar, and Sabat, an Arabian, tlien a professed Christian, but afterwards an apostate from the faith. Mr. Martyn welcomed Sabat as a brother beloved, and anticipated much happi- ness from cooperating with such a man, heightened by the long suffering with which he had been obliged hitherto to endure the contradictions of his moonshee and pundit. He bore with the evi- dences of an unsubdued Arab temper, pride, arrogance and jealousy, in the spirit of charity that "hopeth all things," loth to believe the man anything else than a sincere, though immature and very imper- fect Christian, and by his efficient aid went rapidly and successfully forward with the Persian New-Testament. At the beginning of 1808 he made an effort to do something for the spiritual benefit of the Eoman CathoJics and other nominal Christians in Patna, whose state, differing for the better in no import- ant respect from the heathen among whom they lived, had strongly affected him, but his oflered service was repulsed. The state of the weather at this season interrupted the regular performance of divine service at Dinapore, and under these circumstances he opened his own house, Avhere he preached to a pretty numerous congregation. His health, however, suffered from his arduous toils; his body could not execute the promptings of his eager spirit. In March the Hindoostani New-Testament was completed. Through the remain- der of the year he was engaged in its revision, in the superin- tendence of the Persian translation, and in the study of Arabic with a view of undertaking a version in that language. Toward the close of summer he had a severe attack of illness that for a short time seemed to threaten his life. In the time of his greatest suffering, however, his mind was tranquil and even joyous, as he looked back on all the mercies he had received, and forward to the bliss of heaven that appeared so near. In February, 1809, the Four Gospels in Persian were finished. In the month of April Mr. Martyn's labours at Dinapore were arrested by orders to remove to Cawnpore. He had j ust succeeded in securing the erection of a church, in which divine service could be celebrated in comfort and decency, and he anticipated the future with hope. It is true that the immediate effect of his labours was slight. A few officers and soldiers attested the power of the gospel, and a few women attended his Hindoostani service, but infidelity and an entire contempt of the truth reigned among the mass of the European res- idents, and a besotted indifference characterized the natives. The 8 114: HENRY MARTYN. spring of his activity, however, was from above, not from without, and with all its toils and discouragements, there was no sphere on earth he would have sought in preference to this. While his body drooped under his exhausting labours, and his soul was burdened by the aspects of depravity that he felt his human powers unable to contend with, he found peace in resting with unshaken faith on Him whose truth he proclaimed. Something, though so little, — something had been accomplished, and to leave it for a new station, where all must be newly begun, was no slight test of patience. The removal was, however, accom- panied with evil, if not fatal, effects on his health. No doubt his exertions at Dinapore were on the whole too much for his powers of endurance, but they were aggravated by the change. His journey was performed at a time when the heat was suffocating, through a barren waste that made the air like that of a furnace, and on his arrival at Cawnpore he fainted from its effects. There was no church in which to shelter his head, but he prayed and preached under the open sky, the soldiers drawn up in a hollow square around him, in an atmosphere so oppressive that some of his auditors dropped down in the midst of the service. At the close of this year Mr. Marty n's soul was once more bowed with sorrow at the death of his surviving sister, who had been tlie instrument of so much spiritual good to him in his 3^outh, thus binding her to his heart with double affection. "0 what a barren desert, what a howling wilderness," he exclaimed, "does this world appear! But for the service of God in his church, and the prepara- tion of my own soul, I do not know that I would wish to live another day." To that service he devoted himself with continued energy. About this time he began his first public ministrations to the heathen. Hitherto he had avoided this, through apprehensions of exciting prejudice, a caution which we should incline to think excessive, were it not imposed on him by his relations to the East India Company as an army chaplain. The danger of compromising the government in provinces where its influence was imperfectly established, demanded of him a reserve that was unfavourable, if we may judge by comparison with the labours of others not thus encumbered, to his largest influence as a preaching missionary. A company of mendicants being in the habit of coming for alms, he appointed a stated day to receive them, that he might not be unduly interrupted. To thi^ congregation, sometimes amounting to HENEY MARTYX. 115 eight hundred persons, he preached the word of eternal life; his instructions were well received, and not long after he had the happi- ness of receiving one of their number to a profession of humble faith in Christ. These labours were continued through the earlj'- part of the year 1810, but repeated attacks of weakness in the chest which he had experienced for some time, and that seemed to mark him as the victim of the same insidious disease which had dcDrived him of his sisters, compelled him to suspend his exer- tions. While deliberating whether to . try a voyage to England, or to turn in some other direction for the desired relief, the neces- sity of revising the Persian New-Testament decided his course. That work was pronounced by competent judges to be removed from the comprehension of the common people, by too great elevation of style, and by the frequent occurrence of Arabic idioms. This was a great disappointment to him, more especially as his Hindoos- tani version was pronounced highly successful. He now decided to visit Persia and Arabia, for the purpose of making a new Persian translation and undertaking an Arabic version. With this inten- tion he preached his farewell discourse at the opening of a new church, the erection of which he had long urged, and in which he had fondly hoped to proclaim the word of life for years to come. On arriving at Calcutta, the joy with which his friends received him was shaded by perceiving how greatly his bodily vigour had been impaired by his four years' labours. Such was his weakness that he could not indulge freely in conversation without pain, yet he preached every Sunday in all fidelity during the two months that he remained there. On the 7th of January, 1811, he delivered a discourse on the anniversary of the Calcutta Bible Society, which was afterwards published, and on the same day addressed the inhabit- ants of Calcutta for the last time from the words, " But one thing is needful." He now took passage in a ship bound for Bombay, having for a companion on his voyage the Hon. Mr. Elphinstone, Eesident of Poonah. From the captain, who had been a pupil of Swartz, he obtained much interesting information concerning that devoted mis-' sionary. He arrived at Bombay on the 18th of February, on which day he completed the 30th year of his age, "the age at which David Brainard finished his course. I am now," he adds, in that spirit of humility which he cherished by ever looking from himself to his Divine Exemplar, "at the age at which the Saviour of men 116 HENRY MARTYN. began his ministiy, and at which. John the Baptist called a nation to repentance. Let me now think for myself, and act with energy. Hitherto I have made my youth and insignificance an excuse for sloth and imbecility ; now let me have a character, and act boldly for God." At Bombay he remained nearly a month, making inquiries concern- ing the native Christians, and conversing with Parsees and Moham- medans on religion. On the 25th of March, he embarked in a vessel ordered to cruise in the Persian Gulf against pirates, and landed on the 22d of May at Bushire in Persia, whence he proceeded by land to Shiraz. The heat was so intense that his life was endangered; at Ahmede, under the shade of a tree, the only shelter they could get, the thermometer rose to 126*^. At Shiraz he commenced his new version of the New-Testament in Persian, with the aid of Mirza Seid Ali Khan, a learned Mohammedan, characterized by much liberality of feeling. With him Mr. Martyn had frequent and free discus- sions, in which the Mussulman was compelled to acknowledge with tears the excellence of Christianity, and once confessed that from childhood he had been seeking a religion, and was still undecided. Other Mohammedans and several Jews visited him, and much curi- osity was excited in the town 'concerning his character and designs. At first he kept open house, ready to receive all who called, but in July he removed to a garden in the suburbs, where, secluded from interruption, he pursued his work and enjoyed his Sabbaths with unaccustomed pleasure. From this retreat he was summoned to hold a public dispute with the Professor of Mohammedan law, an antagonist whose rank and distinction made him formidable; but the great man was too digni- fied to reason; he inflicted a tedious lecture on Mr. Martyn, taking little notice of his objections. Others, however, were not so blind to them, and he began to fear the result of Mr. Martyn's enterprise. lie accordingly wrote an elaborate and subtle defence of Moham- medanism, of which his antagonist produced a cogent refutation, not shrinking from the most frank exposure of the system in ques- tion, and holding up the Christian system as infinitely superior. He was told by a nephew of the Prince Euza Cooli Mirza, that the proper answer to his reasonings would be the sword. To much in Christianity free assent was given, but the doctrine of the divinity of Christ was the great stumbling block with Mohammedans. " Their sneers," Mr. Martyn writes, "are more difficult to bear than the HENRY MARTYN. 117 brickbats which the boys sometimes throw at me : however, both are an honour of which I am not worthy." His reply was felt by his learned opponent, who came to inquire into the principles of Chris- tianit}' in a manner which indicated that the shaft had taken effect. The translation of the New-Testament made such progress that in November, Mr. Martyn ordered two splendid copies to be prepared for the King of Persia and his son, the Prince Abbas Mirza. Hav- ing determined to spend the winter at Shiraz he commenced a ver- sion of the Psalms in Persian, The year 1812 was entered upon by him with an apparent presentiment that his time was short. "The present year will probably be a perilous one, but my life is of little consequence, whether I live to finish the Persian New-Testament or do not. I look back with pity and shame on my former self, and on the importance I then attached to my life and labours. The more I see of my own works, the more I am ashamed of them I am sick when I look at man and his wisdom and his doings, and am relieved only by reflecting that we have a city whose builder and maker is God. The least of His works it is refreshing to look at. A dried leaf or a straw makes me feel in good company." He had need to look for company to God's inanimate works. To be condemned, as he was, to dwell without Christian society in a city full of all manner of wickedness, where his purposes and hopes were viewed either with contempt or ignorant wonder, was a severe trial to his mind, and he was able, he said, to understand the feel- ings of Lot. "The face of the poor Russian appears to me like the face of an angel, because he does not tell lies." Yet he had the consolation of finding some who were curious to know, if not ready to obey, the truth. To such, the strangest part of his faith was his assured hope of eternal life. Aga Ali, a Mede, once asked, How did he know he should be saved? Was it by tliese loohs? "What was the beginning of it? Was it the society of friends? In answer to these inquiries he related his religious history. Could the same benefit be conferred upon them? — "Yes; I bring you this message from God, that he who, despairing of himself, rests for righteousness on the Son of God, shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost ; and to this I can add my testimony, if that be worth anything, that I have found the promise fulfilled in myself" — "What! would you have me believe as a child?" — "Yes." — "True; I think that is the only way. Certainly," he added, as he turned away, "he is a good man!" On the 18th of February, the thirty-first and last birth-day he 118 HENRY MARTYN. commemorated, lie notes that the ISTew-Testament was completed, except the last eight chapters of the Revelation, Six days after, the work was concluded ; and the version of the Psalms, "a sweet employ- ment," he said, which "caused six weary moons that waxed and waned since its commencement, to pass unnoticed," was finished b}' the middle of March. About this time he had another public dispute with his former antagonist, Mirza Ibrahim, in which he intrepidly defended the Divinity of Christ, and effectual]}^ silenced opposition. On the 24th of May, Mr. Martyn left Shiraz for Tebriz, to procure from the British ambassador a letter of introduction to the king, with a view of presenting to him the New-Testament. Had he fore- seen the hazards of this enterprise it is not likely he would have incurred them for an object so comparatively unimportant. The journey occupied eight weeks, and when he finally reached the royal camp at Carach he was not admitted to an audience. He then went to Sultania, intending to wait an audience there, but found it impracticable to do so. In his return to Tebriz he suffered dread- fully from fever, which prostrated him after his arrival at that city for two months. The English ambassador showed him much kind- ness, and volunteered to present the Testament to the king. His majesty gave it his approbation, and the work was printed at St. Petersburg for distribution. On recovering from his illness he decided to return to England for the more complete restoration of his health, a wise step in itself, but imprudently attempted too soon, — on the tenth day after his recovery. Setting out on horseback with his attendants, he left Tebriz on the 2d of September for Constantinople. The journey was tedious, but he kept his mind occupied with study and medita- tion on the Scriptures, and found at Echmiadzen and Erzroom a hospitality and fraternal welcome from the Armenians, that con- trasted cheerfully with the rudeness he met from the Mohammedans. Once or twice he was in danger from robbers, but escaped without harm. On the 29th, soon after leaving Erzroom, he was attacked with fever and ague. At the close of the next day's journey he was so far weakened that he nearly fainted. The next two days his attendants drove him furiously forward, much of the way in the rain. Repose alleviated his suffei'ings, and he went on through an other day at the same merciless speed till he was compelled to halt. He was permitted to rest at a small village, where his fever increased HENRY MARTYN. 119 till lie was nearly frantic; his attendants believed him really delirious, and minded nothing he said. After gaining a little sleep he was hurried off, and reached Tocafe, in a state of weakness that made farther progress impossible. Here on the 6th of October he made a final entry in his journal, a fitting conclusion of the record of such a life. "I sat in the orchard," he says, "and thought with sweet comfort and peace of my Grod, in solitude my company, my friend and comforter. O, when shall time give place to eternity ! When shall appear that new heaven and new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness! There, there shall in no wise enter in anything that defileth: none of that wickedness which has made men worse than wild beasts, none of those corrup- tions which add still more to the miseries of mortality shall be seen or heard of any more." In this state he looked forward to his "perfect consummation and bliss." Ten days after, either sinking under the disease that arrested his journey, or falling by the plague that then prevailed there, he exchanged the sufterings of this present life for "a far more exceed- ing and eternal weight of glory." The intelligence of this unexpected event was received with pro- found grief both in India and England. His great powers of mind and wide compass of knowledge, — the celerity with which he exe- cuted the most difficult undertakings, and the sincerity with which his whole being was devoted to the service of his Divine Master, made his withdrawal from his earthly mission an afflictive dispensa- tion to all who had hopefully watched the promise of his early manhood. To such as had enjoyed the happiness of personal com- munion with him, the blow was more severe, as the bond it sundered was more tender, and it was an affecting thought that, in the hour of nature's extremity, he was left without the consolations of Chris- tian sympathy or the offices of friendship. But it was so ordered, and though few. could so gratefully have felt the value of such alle- viations at such an hour, few needed them less. His grave remained without a monument till 1823, when Claudius James Rich, Esq., English Resident at Bagdad, consecrated a stone to his memory. More durable monuments were his versions of the New Testament, which have every requisite for permanent circulation, and his trans- lation of the English liturgy, by the aid of which many a Christian congregation will offer prayers and praises, where now the name of God is only heard to be pi'ofaned. It is the peculiar characteristic 120 nEXRY MARTYN. of a missionary's work, that it is linked with imperishable results. Time, which dims the memory of earthly heroes, shall but brighten that of Christian champions; and eternity has in reserve for them honours that it is not now permitted us to conceive, much less describe, but that are embodied in words whose sublime import tasks the highest imagination — the joy of their lord. GORDON HALL. Gordon Hall, one of tlie pioneers in American missions to the heathen, was born at Tolland, Massachusetts, April 8, 1784. In his childhood he was noted for vivacity, force of will and versatility of talents. Endowed with no little wit and humour, joined to active bodily habits, he was a leader in all the amusements appropriate to childhood and youth, and as he grew up he showed a fondness for mechanical contrivance, in the exercise of which he spent much of his leisure time. At the age of fourteen, it is related, he undertook to construct an air balloon from a description he had read; of his success we have no account, but the attempt was characteristic. Early in life he acquired a taste for reading and composition. His first attempts at literature were of a satirical turn, aimed at individuals of the neighbourhood, an occupation for which we can readily believe he found abundant scope. There are not a few retired New England towns that have a store of eccentric characters, whose originalities would make the fortune of an observing humour- ist, lie laboured upon his father's farm till his nineteenth year, when he commenced a course of classical study, under the direction of Rev. Mr. Harrison, the minister of the parish. He offered him- self for examination at Williams College in February, 1805, and received the special commendation of the President. " That young man," said Dr. Fitch, "has not studied the languages like a parrot, but has got hold of their very radix." His course as a scholar justified this praise. Foremost in the generous competition, he was graduated with the highest honour. When entering college he was not a professing Christian, though well instructed in the principles of religion by the care of a pious mother. In 1805 a revival of religion commenced in Williamstown, the influence of which during the following year extended into the college. Mr. Hall was not insensible to the power of religious truth, and in letters to his friends showed much solemnity of feeling, but obtained no satisfactory evidence of piety, till the commencement 122 GORDON HALL. of liis third collegiate year. The state of the college at that time was unfavourable to the exercise of active piety. Infidelity and irreligion had been to some extent rife among the students, and the prevailing political excitement was fitted to induce a feverish rest- lessness of mind uncongenial to the cultivation of a Christian spirit. The revival had indeed done much to counteract these influences, yet it was not easy, even then, for a mind not strongly anchored by independent principle to withstand the strong current of skepticism and worldliness. Bat Gordon Hall had a robust manliness of spirit not to be deterred from a straightforward course on the line marked out by his conscience and sober judgment. This gave him power, and he fearlessly exerted it in behalf of religion. Those who were contemporary with him could not soon forget the impression made by his bold and manly bearing, and there are some now among the living who can bear witness to the inflexible fidelity with which he maintained the attitude of a Christian scholar. At what time his mind was first directed to the subject of missions is not certainly known, but it must have been very soon after his conversion. In the class below him was Samuel J. Mills, a man who, without extraordinary talents, but with an energy of faith and profound benevolence such as are rarely exemplified, succeeded, in his own words, in making his "influence felt to the remotest corner of this ruined world." Unlike Hall, Mills had entered college with an established religious character, and was studying with a view to the Christian ministry, and with a desire to exercise his ministry among the heathen. As early as 1802 his father overheard him /saying that "he could not conceive of any course of life in which 'xto pass the rest of his days, that would prove so pleasant as to go and communicate the gospel of salvation to the poor heathen," — a remark which was noted as one of the first decisive proofs of personal piety he had shown. The subject continued to occupy his thoughts, but his plans were not disclosed to others till the year 1807, when he conferred with Hall, and found him ready to respond to his aspiration;^. In the summer or autumn of that year he spent a day in fasting ar.d prayer by the side of a large haystack in a meadow near the Hoosick river, in company with James Eichards and Robert C. Bobbins. Their hearts flowed together, and a sacred union was formed, destined to ripen into an enterprise wider and more effective than they could then have hoped. In September, 1808, a society was formed, whose object was stated to be, "to effect GORDON HALL. 123 in the 2'>erso}is of Us members a mission or missions to the heatlien." The constitution admitted none as members who were "under any engagement which should be incompatible with going on a mission." Each member was pledged to "keep absolutely free from every engagement which, after his prayerful attention and after consulta- tion with his brethren, should be deemed incompatible with the objects of this society;" and to "hold himself in readiness to go on a mission when and where duty might call."* This constitution was originally signed by Mills, Richards, Rob- bins, Luther Rice, Ezra Fisk, and Daniel Smead, and seems to have been the first foreign missionary organization in America, Though Hall, for some reason, did not unite in its formation, there is evi- dence that his heart was in the work fi^om the first, that he was fully cognizant of the steps taken by his fellow-students, and was ready to cooperate with them to the extent of his ability. In the high resolves, fervent prayers and secret communings of this little band, far from human observation and human sympathy, were laid the foundations of one of the greatest moral enterprises of the American churches. The constitution of the society was kept a profound secret, and the original agreement was written and signed in cipher. For such a course there were reasons grounded on the state of public opinion with respect to missions, and in the situation and plans of the young men who formed it. By a large portion of the religious public, such schemes were regarded as impracticable. There was great risk of failure, not, certainly, from any liability to vacillation on their own part, but from want of support by the churches. Public action, that should prove abortive, could only injure them and the cause they -sought to serve. They were young, unpractised in any popular arts, and destitute of personal influence. Mills, who was the master-spirit of the movement, and gave it form and direction, was constitution- ally inclined to the policy they pursued. He was unaffectedly modest, humble, distrustful of his own capacity, but had great faith in the power and merciful purposes of God. He was not disposed, therefore, to seek great things for himself He had no wish to figure in the van of the enterprise, confident as he was that Providence would in due season set it forward. He was inclined to pray and wait, — not inactively, but in the exercise of an unobtrusive influence, * Tracy's HisL of the A?n. Board. — Pres. Hopkins' SemuCentemu Address, (Miscellanies, 280.) 124: GORDON HALL. suggesting his plans toothers whose position in the churches gave them power to move the public mind. With these views the members of the little society set themselves to diffuse a missionary spirit, to enlist other individuals in the scheme, and especially to interest clergymen whose character gave ground to hope for their cooperation. Rev. Drs. Worcester, of Salem, Spring, of Newburyport, Morse, of Charlestown, and Griffin, then settled in Newark, N. J., afterwards President of Williams College, were more particularly looked to. These all became prominent in forwarding the work of missions, but Dr. Worcester is believed to have been first enlisted. Attempts were made to awaken an interest among the students of other colleges. For this purpose one of their number took a dismission to Middlebury College, Mills visited Yale, a correspondence was opened with members of Dartmouth and Union Colleges. The association also published and circulated two sermons at their own expense, to move the public mind. After graduating, in 1808, Mr. Hall commenced the study of the- ology at Washington, Connecticut, with Rev. Dr. Porter, afterwards a professor in Andover Theological Seminary, Mass. "The devel- opment of his powers, during his theological investigations," says Dr. Porter,* "satisfied me that, in intellectual strength and discrim- ination, he was more than a common man. Of this, however, he was apparently unconscious, being simple and unpretending in his manners." Dr. Porter specially testifies to his steadfast piety, perse- vering industry, sobriety of judgment and inflexible decision. While at Washington he was appointed a tutor in Williams College, but declined the office. He was licensed to preach in about a year, and invited to supply the pulpit of the Congregational church in Wood- bury, Conn., as a candidate for settlement. He consented to go, but with the condition that he should be under no obligation to become their pastor, — in accordance with his fixed determination to keep clear of engagements incompatible with a missionar}^ life, provided any opening should offer itself in that direction. This determination, and the tenacity with which he held it, were well understood. Mills, then at New Haven, writing to a friend binder date of December 22, 1809, declared that Gordon Hall was "ordained and stamped a mis- sionary by the sovereign hand of God." He remained at Woodbury till June 1810, occasionally preaching in other places, among others at Pittsfield, Mass., where he spent two months. While at Pittsfield * Am. Quarterly Register ii. 209 GORDON HALL. 125 lie seems to have wavered between foreign and domestic missions, on account of the uncertainty that rested on the prospect of com- mencing a mission to the heathen.* On leaving Woodbury, in June, he connected himself with the Theological Seminary at Andover. There, in concert with Mills, Eichards, Rice, and other kindred spirits, their plans were matured and their purposes ripened into decided action. Their circle had received an important accession in the person of Adoniram Judson, then lately reclaimed from the snares of infidelit}', whose thoughts and desires had been directed to the work of missions without the knowledge of what had been long passing in the minds of others. His impulsive spirit was ill tutored to wait with all the patience that characterized his associates. The arrival of Hall was opportune. With less impetuosity than Judson, he had great courage and deci- sion of character. The two united in dissuading farther delay. Judson was ready to seek the aid of British Christians, if those in America held back from the work. Hall said he would work his passage to India, and rely, under Providence, on his own resources. It was decided that the time had come to go forward. The faculty of the Theological Seminary were consulted, and approved of their plans. A meeting for consultation and prayer was held at Andover June 25, 1810, and it was determined to bring the subject before the General Association of Massachusetts, then about to assemble at Bradford. Rev. Drs, Worcester and Spring were present, and the next da,y, as they were riding in a chaise to Bradford, a board of missions was proposed and a plan of organization suggested. The General Association convened on the 27th, and on the after- noon of the 28th, Messrs. Judson, Mills, Samuel jSTott, Jr., and Sam- uel Newell, were introduced by Dr. Spring, and presented to the body a written statement of their views and wishes, soliciting the advice of their fathers in the ministry. After hearing from them a more particular statement, their memorial was referred to Rev. Drs. Spring and Worcester and Rev. Enoch Hale. They reported on the following day, approving the spirit and purpose of these young men, * It may have been tliis circumstance, in connexion, perhaps, with some concurring focts of the same nature, that led Mr. Judson some years later to affirm that those who came to Andover from Williams College, had limited their views to missions at the west. The aspirations of ]Mills, as we have seen, were limited only by the bounds of "this ruined world." But the aspects of the time were far from hopeful, and might have made the most stout-hearted de-spond. 12G GORDON HALL. recognising the duty of giving tlie gospel to the heathen, and recom- mending the formation of a society for this object. They further recommended to the applicants to continue their studies, holding themselves in readiness to go forward whenever a way should be opened and the necessary means should be provided. The report Avas adopted, the plan approved, and the members of a board elected, who organized themselves at Farmington, Connecticut, September 5, 1810, by the name of the American Board of Comviia- sionersfor Foreign Missions. Dr. Worcester was chosen Correspond- ing Secretary, atid an address was issued to the Christian public, bespeaking their favour for the enterprise. The young men whose application gave the impulse to these proceedings were meanwhile advised to continue their studies till the necessary information and pecuniary resources should be obtained by the Board.* * The honour of originating the Board of Commissioners has been ohiimed for different persons. The truth seems to be that in tliis, as in many important move- ments, several minds were drawn by a common influence to the same result. In tlie order of time, Mills was unquestionably first, having felt the stirrings of missionary zeal as early as 1802. Rirhards was under the influence of similar feelings before he knew anything of Mills's designs. The same is said to have been the case with Hall, though the direct evidence of this is scanty, and somewhat doubtful. In 1808, these and otliers, members of Williams College, had advanced so far as to unite in acts of personal consecration to the work. Judson dated his impressions in the autumn of 1809, and his purpose was fixed before he knew that others were prepared to sympathize with him. So that four persons successively. Mills, Richards, Hail and Judson, from independent thought acting on sep:u-ate suggestions, were provi- dentially put in training to give a united and powerful impulse to the spirit of missions in the American churches. Of these persons. Mills, though early self-devoted to the work, was not permitted to engage personally in its prosecution. His character eminently fitted him to exert a moving influence on the minds of others, while his consecration to the divine ser- vice and his ardent desire to promote the highest human welfare, uniformly directed his energies to pure and exalted ends. He contributed largely to the setting in motion of some of the most important religious charities in our country. Besides liis agency in forming the Board of Missions, he originated the Foreign Mission School, which was maintained for ten years at Cornwall, Conn., for the education of heathen youth. The United Foreign Missionary Society, operating within the limits of the Presbyterian Church, and afterwards united with the American Board, was formed at his suggestion. The American Bible Society sprung directly from his counsels: and he bore a principal part in the movement that origimted the American Colonization Society, in whose service, as an agent for exploring the coast of Africa to fix the site of a colony, he met his end, and found a grave in the ocean. Few men have made their mark so deeply in the history of what is most vit:il to the progress of the world, and fewer still have been so indiflerent to the question whether it would GORDON HALL. 127 The progress of tlie Board, notwithstanding the favour with which it was viewed by many persons of influence, was slow. That senti- ment of religious " liberality," which for thirty years had been silently supplanting the ancient theological landmarks of New England, and was soon to sunder the Puritan churches into two sects, having scarcely anything in common but their forms of ecclesiastical organ- ization and the memory of a common origin, had wrought a degree of religious apathy, disturbed only by the beginnings of a contro- versy as yet not foreseen in its full intensity. The subject, more- over, though not absolutely new,- was little considered as a practical reality. Some were for postponing the claims of the world at large for those of our own country. Some thought the scheme visionary. Few were prepared to say, Go forward. Under these circumstances the Board entertained the design of effecting an arrangement with the London Missionary Society for a joint superintendence and sup- port of missions, conducted through missionaries appointed by the Board here. Mr. Judson was despatched to England to confer on this subject. The directors of the London Society expressed a will- ingness to receive Mr, Judson and his associates under their patron- age, but deemed a joint management impracticable. This reply, though very natural and just, could hardly meet th(: views of the Board. Meanwhile, indications appeared of a measure- of public liberality sufficient to justify independent action. Accord- ingly, at the meeting in 1811, the Board appointed Messrs. Judson Nott, Newell and Hall, as its missionaries, and designated the Bur- man empire, or some contiguous territory out of the British juris- diction, as their field of labour. Mr. Hall had much to overcome in accepting this mission'. The. congregation in Woodbury were greatly attached to him, and gave him a pressing invitation to settle with them. From the tenour of letters to his parents it would seem that he met with opposition from them. But he had too long and too devoutly meditated on the claims of the heathen to confer with flesh and blood, or to yield himself to considerations of ease and present favour. To the call from Woodbury he replied. Dr. Porter informs us,* with "a glist- he rcoognised by others. He was content, nay, he preferred to work out of sight, if tlie desire of his heart could be so accomplished, and it was not till his earthly task was ended that the world was permitted to know the extent of its obligations to him, or summoned to do justice to his (character. * Am. Qu. Reg., ut supr. 128 GORDON HALL. cuing eje and firm accent:"' — "No, I must not settle in any parish in Christendom. Others will be left whose health or preengagements require them to stay at home; but I can sleep on the ground, can endure hunger and hardship; God calls me to the heathen; — wo to me, if I preach not the gospel to the heathen!" The same duty he likewise urged on others, with singular directness and force. Having his heart fully set, he made careful preparation. Early in 1811 he resided some time in Boston to attend medical lectures, that he might increase his usefulness as a missionary, and after his appointment in the following September, he repaired with Mr. Newell to Philadelphia for the same purpose. In a letter addressed to his parents and his brother from that city, he makes an earnest appeal that they would give their cheerful assent to his plans. "Are you not willing," he asks, "that your son and brother should go in the name of the Lord, and proclaim pardon and eternal life to those who know not God and are trusting to their idols?" After appealing to the great com- mission of the apostles as binding on all ministers of Christ, he says, "There are parents, who through divine grace can rejoice to see their sons zealously engaged in this work. O, may I be such a son, and you such parents." Mr. Hall, with his colleagues, received ordination at Salem, Feb- ruary 6, 1812. Messrs Judson and Newell sailed from Salem on the 9th, and Messrs. Hall, Nott and Rice (more recently appointed,) from Philadelphia, on the 18th of the same month. Messrs. Judson and Newell arrived at Calcutta on the 17th of June, and their colleagues on the 8th of August. By Christians of different denominations they were received with kindness and affection, but the British East Indian government met them with a prompt and peremptory repulse from their territories. One ground on which this act was ostensibly based, was the fact that the missionaries were not English subjects. The real motive was undoubtedly the same that had dictated their intolerance of the Serampore mission, and of every other effort to introduce Christianity among the natives of India.* The first order commanded the missionaries to return in the ves- sels that brought them, but they were afterwards authorized to go, by any conveyance, to any place out of the jurisdiction of the East * To an American gentleman, who spoke of the duty of promoting the education of the Hindoos, Lord Wellesley, now duke of Wellington, is said to have signifi- cantly replied, that Great Britain had seen enough of the effects of that, in the case of the North American colonies, and that the experiment would not be repeated. GORDON HALL. 129 India Company. It was not easy to decide where they should go. The Burman empire was the seat of war that agitated all the neigh- bouring regions, and China was not yet opened. They learned that the governor of the Isle of France, now more generally known by its older Dutch name, Mauritius, was friendly to their establishment on that island and in Madagascar. Mr. and Mrs. Newell embarked for the Isle of France by the first opportunity ; their associates were delayed two or three months at Calcutta, during which interval Messrs. Judson and Rice announced a change of views on the sub- ject of baptism, which separated them from their colleagues and from the further patronage of the Board. Messrs. Hall and Nott had engaged their passage to the Isle of France, when an unexpected detention of the vessel gave them an opportunity to reconsider their plans. They had decided to go to Ceylon, but news of the arrival of Sir Evan Napean as governor of Bombay opened a better prospect. Sir Evan was known as a friend of missions and a Vice-President of the British and Foreign Bible Society. They were promised favourable letters to several gentle- men at Bombay, and resolved to attempt a mission there. They received a general passport "to depart in the ship Commerce." Before they could get their baggage on board, they were served with an order for their being sent to England. After an unsuccessful attempt to bring their case before the governor-general in person, they obtained leave of the captain of the Commerce to go on board and wait the result. He reported them as his passengers, obtained a port clearance, and on the 11th of Februarj^, 1813, they landed safely at Bombay. Here they found that the order for their transportation to England had been forwarded from Calcutta. They submitted a memorial to the governor, setting forth their object in coming to India, their proceedings at Calcutta, and their reasons for departing under such circumstances. With this he was so well pleased that he wrote to the governor-general in favour of the missionaries, and appears to have so far satisfied his mind as to gain permission for them to reside at Bombay. At this juncture, to their great embarrassment, came the news of war between Great Britain and the United States. To make the matter worse, an American schooner that came under a protection from Admiral Sir John Warren, bringing letters and supplies for the missionaries, was condemned on a charo'e of havino^ forfeited her 9 IGO GORDON HALL ])rotection by cruising on the coast to inform other American vessels vjf the declaration of war. Neither the Board nor the missionaries liad any control over her, and they could not be justly held account- able for the conduct of her officers. But the government professed, and may have entertained, suspicions that the mission was connected with some political design. The letters and supplies brought by the condemned vessel were forwarded to the missionaries, but their longer residence in the British dominions, it was intimated, was not to be thought of Their names were entered as passengers for Eng- land by the ship Carmarthen. They addressed a remonstrance to the governor, showing that their errand was unconnected with the war, or with the political relations of the two countries. Sir Evan consented to a few weeks' delay that they might perfect their arrangements, but stated that his orders from Bengal forbade him to permit their residence at Bombay. Communications were received in September from Mr. Newell, then on the island of Cejdon, and from Rev. Mr. Thompson, chap- lain at Madras, to the effect that the governor of Ceylon would pro- tect them, and urging them to repair to that island. These were submitted to Sir Evan Napean, with a request for permission to act upon this counsel. They were informed that he was personally inclined to grant the request, and was expecting more favourable orders from the governor-general. If these came seasonably, he might accede to their wishes, but if not, he must send them to Eng- land by the first ship. The time for the sailing of the Carmarthen was now near at hand ; every open expedient to avoid transporta- tion had failed, and their enterprise appeared to be completely frustrated. After prayerful consideration, they resolved to adopt the only alternative, — to depart without the knowledge of the government beyond its jurisdiction. That their friends might not be needlessly compromised, they confided their plan to only a single person, Lieu- tenant John Wade, a young officer of noble descent, and at that time Military aid and Secretary to the commander-in-chief on the Bombay station. He had become acquainted with them early in the summer, had sought their aid in establishing his religious principles, and felt profoundly grateful for their instruction and counsel. He ]5romptly affered his aid. On the 18th of Octcjber he informed them that a native vessel was to sail for Cochin, and thence, it was under- stood, to Columbo, Ceylon, which would take them as passengers if GORDON HALL. 181 they could be ready in five liours. He gave them a note of intro- duction to an officer at Cochin, which proved of service on their arrival there. He saw them safel}^ on board, and after their depart- ure prepared and circulated a defence of their conduct. "I have fears," Mr. Hall wrote in his journal, "lest we have sin- ned in leaving Bombay as we have. — Yet after all," he added, "I do not know why it was not as right for us to escape from Bombay, as it was for Paul to escape from Damascus." Unfortunatel}^, they did not meet with the Apostle's success, and had to deal with per- sons who were not inclined to accept the analogy. The vessel was bound to Cochin, and no further; the crew were not competent to navigate her to Ceylon, had they been so disposed. Lieut. Wade's note secured them very courteous treatment during their detention, but before any conveyance to Ceylon presented itself, a message came, demanding their immediate return to Bombay. On arriving there, they learned that the governor regarded their conduct as inconsistent with their character as gentlemen and ministers of the gospel. He treated them, in fact, somewhat like prisoners who had broken their parole. They were informed that their passage to England was inevitable, and that Mrs. Nott would have been sent by the Carmarthen if her health had admitted of it. For ten days they were detained on board the Company's cruiser Ternate. From their prison-ship they sent a letter to the governor, vindi eating their course. Being brought to the police office, they were required to give a bond, with security in four thousand rupees, not to leave Bombay without permission. This they declined doing. They were then asked to give their parole to the same effect, which was declined, as also a third proposal, to give their parole not to leave without permission before the following Monday. Thereupon they were remanded on board the Ternate. The next day they were again summoned, and informed that their vindication had been flivourably considered, but was not satisfactory. They were assigned quarters in the admiralty-house, and ordered not to leave the island without application to the government, and to be ready to sail for England. But their deliverance was at hand. Lord Moira, appointed to supersede Lord Minto as governor-general of India, arrived at Calcutta. A committee in that city for cooperating with the mis- sionaries made representations to the government in their behalf, which drew from Lord Minto the admission that their desio^ns were 132 GORDON HALL, unexceptionable, and from Lord Moira an intimation that "no con- ceivable public injury could arise from their staying," with such further declarations as seemed to assure a reversal of the obnoxious orders. Rev. Mr. Thomason, of Calcutta, wrote to this effect, and his letter was sent to Sir Evan Napean. He replied that as his orders were peremptor}', and had not been reversed, he should put them in execution. On the 20th of December, Messrs. Hall and Nott, as a last resort, addressed a bold but respectful communication to the governor, in which they used the following language: "That exercise of civil authority which, in a manner so conspicuous and determined, is about to prohibit two ministers of Christ from preaching his gospel in India, can be of no ordinary consequence; especially at the pres- ent moment, when the Christian public in England and America are waiting with pious solicitude to hear how the religion of the Bible is welcomed and encouraged among the pagans of this coun- try. Our cause has had so full and conspicuous a trial, that its final decision may serve as a specimen, by which the friends of religion may learn what is likely to befall, in India, those evangelical mis- sions which they are labouring to support by their prayers and their substance." After making a solemn appeal to his conscience in respect to the moral responsibility of thus resisting the spread of the gospel, they remarked on the degree of force possessed by the orders under which he acted, and in words that have lost none of their weight by the lapse of time, declared: "Your excellency knows perfectly well, that whenever human commands run counter to the divine commands, THEY CEASE TO BECOME OBLIGATORY ; and that no man can aid in the execution or support of such counter com- mands, without aiming violence at the authority of Heaven." They referred to the information recently laid before him of a favourable change in the views of the governor-general, as furnishing sufficient ground at least for delay. Entreating him, by the highest motives of personal religious duty, to forbear from the decisive act which he had threatened, they thus concluded: "By all the dread of being found on the catalogue of those who persecute the church of God and resist the salvation of men, we entreat your excellency not to oppose the prayers and efforts of the church, by sending back those whom the church has sent forth in the name of the Lord to preach his gospel among the heathen; and we earnestly beseech Almighty God to prevent such an act, and GOEDON HALL. 133 now and ever to guide your excellency in tliat way which shall be most pleasing in his sight. But should your excellency finally dis- regard the considerations we have presented, should we be compelled to leave this land, we can only say, Adieu, till we meet you, face to face, at God's tribunal." This letter, though addressed to Sir Evan personally, was sub- mitted to the council, and on the 22d they were informed that the governor and council had decided to await farther instructions from the supreme government. Under this informal and provisional license, the missionaries remained several months. Their flight to Ceylon had been arrested, that the mission to Bombay might not fiiil. A mere sufferance in India, however, was not a sufficient basis of operations. The act renewing the East India Company's charter, passed about six months before, provided for the future toleration of missions, but no provision was made for those already commenced, so that the American missionaries were in fact excluded from its benefits. The authorities at Calcutta and Bombay had transmitted to the Court of Directors in London, an account of the transactions we have related, with copies of the correspondence that had passed. The Directors had under consideration a vote of censure on all officers who had abetted the American missionaries, and requiring their removal from the Company's territories. As the resolution was about to pass, the venerable Charles Grant, formerly chairman of the court, presented a written argument, proving that the authori ties in India had assumed powers not conferred by the law of Eng- land or of nations. The argument prevailed, and the governor of Bombay was informed that the missionaries were allowed to remain. In communicating this result to Mr. Hall, Sir Evan Napean added, "I can now assure you that you have my entire permission to remain here, so long as you conduct 3'ourselves in a manner agreeable to your office; and I heartily wish you success in your work." Con- tinental India was now opened to Christian missions by a formal public act, to which the firmness of the American Missionaries had chiefly contributed. If Mr. Hall had accomplished nothing else, his mission would not have been vain. While hindered from his chosen work by these trials, Mr. Hall did not neglect opportunities of usefulness to such persons as were within reach of his influence. Allusion has been made to Lieut. Wade, who felt himself under great spiritual obligations to the mis- sionaries, and the force of whose gratitude was shown by his readi- 134 GOKDON HALL. ness to set at hazard his reputation and worldly prospects for their benefit. Two other officers in the English military service regarded Mr. Hall with the same feeling, for the same cause. Through his influence, they were led not only to a hearty reception of spiritual religion, but to a withdrawal from the armj^ Mr. Hall was a con- sistent and uncompromising advocate of peace. "x\s to war," he wrote to a friend in America, "you may mark me for a thorough Quaker." To one of the officers mentioned, he wrote: "As to war and violence, in every shape, I am as confident that it is utterly contrary to the spirit of the gospel, as I am that theft or any otlier immorality is so." In another letter to the same, he says: "You request me 'to search, if there are any scriptural proofs in favour of war;' I would as soon look for proof that men may lie one to another as that they may slaughter one another." And in reference to delaying, for prudential reasons, the resignation of his commission, Mr. Hall wrote: "If your profession in the army is incompatible with your duty as a Christian, it can be no less sinful for you to continue in that profession for a moment, either on board ship or in Englaiad, than here." Those who do not consider this view of the military profession a sound one, will yet honour the spirit with which the faithful missionary carried out his sincere convictions to their proper result, and held them up in logical thoroughness and completeness. His letters to friends in America at this time glow with missionary zeal, and show, moreover, that he did not enter on his work without maturely considering its nature and the proper means of success. "Eighteen hundred years ago," he says, "it was solemnly com- manded by Jesus Christ that his gospel should be preached to every creature, but now the British Parliament is debating whether it may or not be published to sixty millions of their heathen subjects in Asia." With respect to details of oriental life and manners, he remarks: "It matters little whether a man's hair trails on the ground, like the Chinese, or whether like the Hindoos it is shorn as close as an Englishman's face, — whether he lives in a bamboo or log hut, — on a plain or a mountain, — whether his language is refined or bar- barous,— or what are the personal qualities of the multitudes of gods which crowd the Hindoo pantheon; a thousand things of this kind may be interesting and amusing to the curious, but they are not the things which Christians need to excite them to action in dis- seminating the gospel. The facts \n hich the Christian needs are few GORDON HALL. 135 and simple. The world is full of heathen. Christ died for them all. The gospel must he preached to them.''^ Respecting the relative value of translations, as means of conversion, he says: "Many seem to suppose that if the Bible were only scattered among the nations, the work of conversion would follow of course. — The fact is, that in the economy of human salvation, the living preacher holds the most prominent instrumentality." And again: "I should think that the sentiment is stealing upon the minds of many, that Bibles alone will convert the world. This sentiment is as absurd as it would be to toss a sickle into a field of grain, and leave it unwielded, to gather the harvest. Do not understand me to say aught against the sickle; were it in my power, I would multiply it a thousand fold. But what I mean is, that there should be a due proportion observed in send- ing forth preachers and in multiplying translations of the Bible." There may be those to whom these sentiments will appear like an undue magnif3dng of his office as a minister, but we are mistaken if the records of missionary effort for the last fift}^ years do not fully confirm his views on this point. The instruments employed must be various, for the end sought is a complex one, but there is an order and proportion to be observed in their application. We shall see that Mr. Hall, though decided, was not exclusive, in his views. The way having been opened for free entrance on their appropri- ate work, the missionaries were diligent in preparing for it. For several months, indeed, before the decision of the Court of Directors in London was known, they were kept under restraint, and compelled to reside in the admiralty -house, where they preached in English, and also at another place in the town. In the course of the 3' ear they opened a school. Their attention was likewise given to acquiring); the languages of the country. But in due time they were set at lib ert}' . The force engaged at Bombay consisted of Messrs. Hall and Nott, soon after joined by Mr. Newell, who was then in Ceylon. An arduous task was before them. In the part of India which was the scene of their labours, the attachment of the people to their ancient faith is peculiarly strong, and as a field of missions it yields to few in point of difficulty. There lay before them nothing but severe and continuous toil, relieved by scarcely a gleam of success. No surprising incidents, no romantic adventures, no marvellous achievements, enliven the record. From this time to the day of his death, it was the lot of Mr. Hall to expend his strength in one 136 GOIIDON HALL. continuous struggle against a power that frowned sullen defiance on his efforts, without any prospect of immediate reward, but in the full assurance that not a word spoken for his Lord would be lost. It is an impressive spectacle, and the firmness with which his spirit bore up against discouragement, drawing from the obstacles he encoun- tered only arguments for greater exertion, give to his character an aspect of moral sublimity. Bombay is situated on an island off the western coast of peninsu- lar India, near its northern extremity, separated by narrow straits from the continent on the east and from the island of Salsette on the north. The range of mountains called the Ghauts, rising to the height of two thousand feet, runs near the coast, leaving a strip of flat or broken country called the Concan, from forty to a hundred miles wide and about three hundred miles long. Eastward, from the Ghauts toward the Bay of Bengal, and southward, from the river Nerbudha to Cape Comorin, stretches the vast region known as the Deccan. This was overrun by the Mahrattas, originally an obscure piratical race, early in the eighteenth century. For about a hundred years they ruled and ravaged a large part of India; when their power declined, and was gradually absorbed by the British. Their population is estimated at about twelve millions. The Mahratta language was Mr. Hairs more especial study. Few facilities existed for its acquisition, but by diligent exertion he was able to employ it as a vehicle for religious instruction as early as the commencement of 1815, less than two years after his arrival. In the course of that year he translated most of the Gospel of Mat- thew, and prepared a harmony of the gospels and a small tract. He knew that his translations were far from perfect, but found them useful, both in imparting a knowledge of scriptural truth, and (by the comments they called forth from his hearers) in correcting mis- takes, and thus increasing his familiarity with the language. The process of spreading Christian truth was a difficult one. The mis- sionaries could have no stated congregation, for there was not curi- osity enough to convene one. There were no inquirers, for the like reason. As people would not come to them, they had to go to the people. At temples, markets and other places of public resort, they could collect little groups of hearers, and address them briefly, read- ing passages of Scripture, and explaining the truths they contained. As auxiliary to these labours, something could be done by the agency of free schools. Common school education is no monopoly GORDON HALL. 137 of western civilization. Long ago, in the villages and hamlets of Hindostan, the teacher was honoured and his services esteemed; reading and writing were accomplishments very generally acquired there, except by those whose extreme poverty refused them the scantiest leisure for study. But in western and southern India, the ravages of war and the more exhausting, because perpetual, mischiefs of bad government, had so impoverished the country, that education was fallen into decay.* The people were ready to welcome schools, which might impart some wholesome moral instruction to the young. True, the missionaries could not give their own time to them, and must choose between heathen, Mohammedan and Jewish teachers; but they could direct what books should be used, and by frequent examinations ascertain that they were faithfully taught. The school also became a nucleus for gathering larger and more regular congregations than could otherwise be brought within the scope of their preaching. From the journal of a week's itinerant labours in the autumn of 1815, a few liints may be gathered to show the methods adopted by Mr. Hall to bring the object of his mission before the people. On Sunday morning he "spoke in four different places to about seventy persons." In the afternoon "spoke in another place to about twenty ; also in four other places." At Momadave, "held a long discussion with some brahmins in the midst of sixty or seventy people. As I came away, a brahmin told me that there was no one there who could make a proper reply to what I had said." He addressed in all about two hundred. On Monday, "spoke in six different places, and in all to more than one hundred. At one place I fell in with some Mussulmans." After some discussion, a Jew interposed, and he left them disputing together. "It is one part of a missionary's trials," he notes, "rightly to bear the impertinence, contradictions, insolence and reproaches of men, who are sunk to the lowest degra- dation." On Tuesday "spoke in several places to about one hundred * "The, wealth of the Indies" is still a popular expression to denote unlimited riches, but as applied to the East Indies, if it ever had a ground in truth, which may be doubted, it must have been long before the British dominion was founded in Bengal. India was then a miserably poor country, if wealth is to be measured by any rule of proportion to the number of inhabitants. There were a few who rolled in wealth gained by extortion, but the multitude were, and are now, below the poor- est peasantry in Europe in point of physical comfort, except as the nature of the climite may be supposed to diminish the number of artificial wants. 138 GORDON HALL, persons. Six or eiglit of them were Jews. At one place addressed a considerable number in front of a large temple. — Some agitation arose among the people, and one or two cried out, 'Come awaj from him, come away.' But the greater part were disposed to remain and listen to the word. I view it as an encouragement." On Wednes- day "walked out as usual at four o'clock P. M., and spoke to about one hundred and twenty people." On Thursday he addressed, in five or six places, about one hundred heathen, and rendered medical aid to a woman; on Friday spoke to more than a hundred people, and spent an hour in the evening at the house of a heathen, reading and explaining a tract to a small company. He writes on Saturday: "This day addressed about seventy persons, and in the course of the past week have spoken to more than eight hundred persons. Blessed be God for the privilege! I have noticed a few persons who seemed desirous to hear all I had to say; so much so, that they have been constant at the stated place to which I have daily repaired, and some have even followed me from one place to another. But, alas! when I fix my eyes only on the people, all is dark as night; but whenever, by faith, I am enabled to look to the Son of Eight- eousness, all is light as noon. How great, how precious are the promises! Blessed is he that can trust in them!" The " stated place," alluded to, was a temple much frequented by the people. In the precincts of those centres of idolatry it is gen- erally easy to obtain auditors for any purpose. There the people resort, not only for worship, but to hear the brahmins read and expound the Shasters, or to spend an hour in idleness. For a mis- sionary to enter the temple would be an affront, but undei' the shade of trees planted around, a company is easily gathered to listen to his instructions. Mr. Hall made an exact distribution of his time, spending certain hours in study and translation, reserving about three hours daily for the labours above described. Toward the close of this year the health of Mr. Nott required his relinquishment of missionary labour, and return to the United States, leaving Messrs. Hall and Newell to the single-hand prosecution of a work that might well have tasked scores of industrious men. About this time they jointly wrote a tract, entitled "The Conversion of the "World," which passed through two or three large editions in this country, and was reprinted in England. It did much to deepen and extend the missionary spirit. During the following year, as the language became more familiar, the labours of the mission were GORDON HALL, 189 extended. Several books of the New-Testament were translated and some Mabratta tracts prepared. The transfer from Ceylon to Bombay of Mr. Bardwell, who added a knowledge of the printing art to other qualifications, and the purchase of a press and types, enabled them to put these and other works into circulation. In December, 1816, Mr. Hall was married to Miss Margaret Lewis, an English lady resident in the country, whose piet}^, familiarity with the native character, and acquaintance with the Hindoostani language, made her a valuable helper. Mr. Hall felt a lively interest in the Society of Inquiry in Andover Theological Seminary, of which he was an original member, and from time to time corresponded with it. In an energetic appeal on the duty and the means of the universal diffusion of Christianity, he wrote: "When I advance any of the arguments which show that Christians ought immediately to use the proper, the adequate means for evangelizing the whole world, and that it is the duty of every individual, without exception, to exert himself with zeal, activity and faith proportionate to the magnitude of the work; every argument and motive seems like telling those to whom I write, that they need to be convinced that the Son of God has died for sinners, that there is salvation in no other, and that the, salvation of souls is of great importance. In a word, it seems like telling them that they are not Christians. — How can Ms heart be like that of Jesus, how can he be a Christian, who does not love all mankind, with a love which makes him willing to suffer the loss of all temporal things, and even to lay down his life, if thereby he can promote the salvation of his fellow-men ?" In another communication he thus expressed himself on the ques- tion of personal duty: "To me it appears unaccountable how so many young men, by covenant devoted to Christ, can deliberately and prayerfully inquire whether it is their duty to become mission- aries, and 3'et so few feel effectually persuaded that it is their duty to come forth to the heathen! It tends greatly to the discourage- ment of those already in the field. While so great a proportion of those who examine this point of duty, deliberately decide that it is not their duty to engage in the missionary work, what are we to think? In general, those who excuse themselves from the work, must do it for general reasons, which would be as applicable to others as to themselves, and wdiich would excuse those who have gone forth to the ^vork as well as themselves. Therefore, must not those men who 140 GORDON HALL. thus excuse themselves, think either that those who engage in the missionary work do wrong, or that themselves who decline it do wrong?" To the objection that if all candidates for the ministry chose for- eign service, our own country would be impoverished, he replies: "When thousands have gone forth to the heathen, and God has failed to fulfil his promise, ' He that watereth shall be watered also himself,' or when he shall not have caused religion to flourish among the people at home, in proportion as they labour for the heathen abroad, then, and not till then, let the objection be heard." In 1817 the Harmony of the Gospels, the Gospel of Matthew, and a tract of eight pages were printed. Two hundred and fift}^ pupils were under instruction in the mission schools, and the publication of these works furnished the means of improving the course of instruction. Early in 1818 two new missionaries were added to the station. The number of schools was increased to eleven, with six hundred regular attendants, while the use of printed text books was, even to the minds of the heathen, so manifest an improvement, that the books of the mission were introduced into native schools in the interior. Regular preaching to a small congregation of natives in Bombay was commenced in 1819, under circumstances of encouragement. Early in this year Mr. Hall was able to chronicle the gathering of the first mature fruit of his labours. "We have recently baptized," he says, in a letter to a friend, "and received into our church, one man who was before a disciple of Mohammed. He is, so far as we can judge, a consistent Christian and a helper in publishing the gos- pel." This was Kader Yar Khan, a merchant from Hydrabad in Golconda, four hundred miles from Bombay. While at Bombay on business, the reading of a Christian tract made a decisive impres- sion on his mind. He returned home, put his whole business into the care of an agent, and repaired to Bombay, where he lived in retirement, and gave the subject his undivided attention. The study of Henry Martyn's Persian Testament, and other Christian books, convinced his understanding, and in a few months he gave satisfac- tory evidence of piety. The interest in preaching at Bombay so far increased that it was found practicable to collect congregations several evenings in the week. The new governor, the Hon. M. Elphinstone, threw some obstructions in the way of itineracy, but these were soon removed. GORDON HALL. 141 The number of schools increased to twentj-one, with one thousand and fifty schohars. But a series of afflictions— the removal of labourers by sickness and death, and the abridgment of their efforts by a deficiency of fands, depressed the mission. In 1825 Mr. Hall was called to separate from his family, as he supposed, for a year or two, but, as it was providentially determined, finally. His two children were sickly, and there was little prospect of their attaining to sound health in that climate. It was decided that Mrs. Hall should go with them to America, with the view of returning as soon as they could be provided with a suitable home. The separation, though needful, was a painful one. Mrs. Hall entreated her husband to accompany them. "Do you know what you ask?" he replied. "I am in good health; I am able to preach Christ to the perishing souls around me. Do you think I should leave my Master's work, and go with you to America? Go, then, with our sick boys. I will remain and pray for you all, and here labour in our Master's cause; and let us hope God will bless the means used to preserve the lives of our dear children." "From that time," says Mrs. Hall, "I ceased asking him to accompany us." The mother and children, with heavy hearts, yet scarcely foreboding the issue, bade adieu to the husband and father. They were at first so prospered on their voyage that their hopes were high, but before its conclusion the eldest child was suddenly smitten by death, and found a grave in the ocean. The formation of the Bombay Missionary Union, in November of this year, was an event of peculiar interest to Mr. Hall, as con- trasted with the long struggle through which he had to pass before he was granted the privilege of preaching to the heathen. The society was formed by the missions of the American Board and of the English Church Missionary Society at Bombay, those of the London Missionary Society at Surat and Belgaum, and that of the Scottish Missionary Society in the southern Concan. On tiiis occa- sion Mr. Hall preached a sermon, which was published. To add to the joy of their meeting, four natives were received to the fellowship of the church. It does not appear that Mr. Hall at this time had any presentiment that his labours were drawing to a close, but he gave himself with more than ordinary earnestness to his work. "That the truth of God is afiecting the minds of this people to a considerable extent," he wrote in January, 182'3, "there can be no doubt. I trust that 142 GORDON HALL. bj and by righteousness and salvation will spring up amidst this prevailing sin and death. I never felt more encouragement and satisfaction in my work than at present." About the first of Febru- ary he wrote a letter which was printed as a circular, — a fervent appeal to his fellow-Christians in America on behalf of the heathen. It came to this country with the tidings that it was his final message, — a summons from one who was already on high. It should seem that words like those hardly needed such affecting attestation to make them pierce the bosom of the churches. Beginning at Bombay he traced the circuit of India, then pointed eastward and northward through Asia, and southward through Africa and the islands of the sea, detecting only here and there a solitary station whence the light of truth broke the dense gloom of heathenism. Since that day much has been observed over which angels in heaven and good men on earth may rejoice, yet on how large a surface does the pall of dark- ness still rest! How little, after more than twenty j^ears' exertion, can be deducted from the sum of desolation then disclosed ! From this wide survey he recalled attention to the Mahrattas, numbering twelve millions, with only six Christian missioiiaries, or one missionary to two millions of souls. "I will endeavour," he concluded, "as God shall enable me, so to labour here that the blood of these souls shall not be found in my skirts," — to proclaim their wants "so plainly and so full}^ that if the guilt of neglecting their salvation must lodge anywhere, I may be able to shake it from my garments." On the second of March Mr. Hall set out upon a tour on the con- tinent of over one hundred miles, to Nassick. He arrived there on the 11th ; the cholera was raging and the people were in consterna- tion. Two hundred, or more, died the day after his arrival. He laboured among them till his books and medicine were nearly exhausted, and on the 18th set out to return home. He arrived the next day at Doorlee Dhapoor, about thirty miles on his wa}'. He spread his mat on the verandah of a temple, and lay down to sleep. Finding himself cold, he removed to a warmer place, but discovered that it was occupied by two sick persons, and returned to the veran- dah. About four o'clock he called up his attendants, and made preparations to resume his journey, when he was seized with the cholera. The spasms were so violent that he fell helpless on the ground. Being laid on his mat, he took the small quantity of medi- '^■'•■'e lie had left, but his stomach rejected it. He at once foresaw GORDON HALL. 143 tlie result, and told his attendants that lie would not recover. After giving directions for the disposal of his body and such personal effects as he had with him, he devoted his few remaining hours of weakness, as he had done his hours of strength, to the work of his ministry. He assured the natives that he should soon be with Christ. He exhorted them to repent and turn from their idols, that they might also go to heaven. He prayed fervently for his wife and children, for his missionary associates and for the heathen around him. So passed away eight hours of agony. Then he exclaimed three times, "Glory to thee, O God!" and expired. The lads who were with him with difficulty procured a grave, in which they laid his body, uncofl&ned, to await the resurrection. The place of his burial is marked by a stone monument, bearing in English and Mahratta his name, office, and the date of his decease. The name of Gordon Hall is embalmed with no trophies of ordinary distinction. His is not the praise of profound erudition, or enchanting eloquence, or dazzling achievement. With a mind and character that, under other influences than those to which he surrendered his powers, might have won for himself such memorials, he sought them not. His intellect was strong, his judgment sound and sober, his decision firm, not to be lightly shaken. Simple, unostentatious, single-minded, he was equal to any effort or any sacrifice, and he could afford to make sacrifices without shrinking or boasting. The career he would have run, had he possessed no ends higher than ordinary selfishness proposes, may be imagined, but happily for himself and the world, all that was admirable in his powers and auspicious in his prospects became tributary, by his voluntary consecration, to the divine glory and to the highest wel- fare of man. Even in the pursuit he entered, no startling results gave visible splendour to his life, — no crowds of converted heathen lamented his loss, no flourishing churches hallowed his memory. But he did a work that included the complete results of the labours of many men through many years. He kindled the flame of missionary zeal in the breasts of thousands, and the light of his example cheered them on in the great enterprise. For this he sacrificed ease and enjoy- ment, eager hopes, and high expectations of honour and usefulness at home. His indomitable spirit surmounted obstacles that would have repelled common energies, and forced a passage into India. Thrice would the mission have been baffled but for his calm and 144 GOEDON HALL. resolute purpose. For all that has been, and all that is yet to be, accomplished through that mission, India will have occasion to ylo- ■^ify God on his hehalf. He shall partake of the honour, for they who reap in joy follow the furrows which he sowed in tears. SAMUEL NEWELL. The missionary career of Samuel Newell, though comparatively brief, was sufficiently extended to present an unusual example of youthful enterprise, such as mankind have viewed with no little admiration in those who rise from obscurity to worldly eminence, lie was born at Durham, Maine, July 24, 1784, the youngest of nine children. He lost his mother in his third year, and his father at the age of ten. When fourteen years old he felt a curiosity to see more of the world, and with the consent of his friends, set out on foot for Portland, a distance of twenty-six miles. The novel sights of the town attracted his admiration. The vessels in the harbour more especially excited his attention. As he was carefully observ- ing one of these "odd machines," the captain was struck with his appearance, and hailed him with the question, "What is your name, my boy?" Samuel made a civil reply. "What do you want?' "To seek my fortune." "Well, I sail to-morrow for Boston; how would you like to try your luck with me?" He was delighted at the proposal of so fine an adventure, and readily assented. Arrived at Boston, the captain met Judge Lowell,* who wished to obtain the services of a boy in his family. Young Newell was named to him. His pleasing appearance recommended him to the judge, who took him to his residence at Koxbury, and treated him with uniform kindness till his death in 1802. In the year 1800 he went into the service of Mr. Ealph Smith, of Roxbury, with the usual proviso of three months' attendance at school. It was soon apparent that Samuel was not disposed to limit his acquisitions of knowledge within the amount stipulated in the contract. He was often discovered busy over a book when he ought to have been at work with his hands. Remonstrance was ineflfectuah In the course of the following year Mr. Smith went to Dr. Nathan- iel S. Prentiss, the master of the Roxbury Grammar School, and told him he had a boy living with him that he was disposed to put * Father of the Rev. Dr. Lowell, now of Boston. 10 146 SAMUEL NEWELL. under liis cliarge, as lie was so fond of books he feared lie would be good for nothing else. Dr. Prentiss expressed a readiness to do what he could with him, and Samuel was duly entered as a scholar. Though able to read very well, he could scarcely write his name. A week or two after he commenced his attendance, he staid in the school-room till the other scholars had gone, and stepped timidly up to the preceptor's desk with the question: "Sir, do you know any Avay that a poor boy can get an education?" "Why," replied his teacher, "all things are possible to one who is diligent and per- severing. Do you wish to get an education?" "Yes, sir." "But can you persevere?" and the teacher went on to warn him of the greatness of the task; that it would require courage and patience and effort, to overcome all the difficulties in his way ; and he advised him to count the cost carefully before he decided. A week later he came again, and said he still desired an education. "You think you can persevere?" "I will try; for I cannot bear to live and die in ignorance." " Very well," said his preceptor ; nothing that I can do for you shall be wanting.- — But remember, now, you shall not give up. If you once begin, I'll hear nothing of leaving off. You put your hand to the plough, and must not look back." Samuel procured an "accidence," and commenced Latin. He went courageously for- ward, but not long after became discouraged, and made a halt. lie said he feared he could never learn Latin. The "comparison of adjectives" was the lion in his path, and he came to his teacher ready to give all up. "Samuel," said the preceptor, with a kind sternness, "I will not hear of this, — not a word of it! You know 'he that putteth his hand to the plough, and looketh back, is not fit for the kingdom of heaven.' . There never was a mountain so high that it could not be climbed." So he urged the timid youth forward, and this was the last murmur of difficulty he heard from him. Mr. Smith, meanwhile, gave him aid in another way. At the supper of a club to which he belonged, he told the company of Samuel's incorrigible love of books. Dr. Prentiss was present on invitation, and being questioned, gave a good account of his dili- gence and promise. A subscription was opened, and about four hundred dollars raised on the spot.* While studying the Greek Testament he sometimes heard John * The writer acknowledges his obligations to the courtesy of Dr. Prentiss for the eornmuiiication of these and otlier incidents in the early career of Newell, to which his mi-id, in tlie ocaeeful dt'cliiie of li.'e. recurs with vivid and pleasant recollection. SAMUEL XEWELL. 147 Murraj, the Universalist preacher, and showed an inclination to study more than the letter of the text. He frequently asked the interpretation of different passages. His teacher declined following him in this pursuit. He would instruct him, he said, in the idiom of the Greek, but could not teach him theology. "When you get to Cambridge, you will have a professor of divinity more capable than I am." But his pupil was not to be hindered. He persisted in studying the principles of theology with such aids as he could obtain. In two years he was prepared to enter college. His preparation was thorouo-h and exact. He became a member of Harvard College in the autumn of 1803, as the "Regent's," or "Butler's Freshman," in which capacity he defrayed most of his expenses by ringing the bell and other services. His standing as a scholar was good, and on graduating he received an honourable appointment for the commencement. .. Soon after enterino; college he showed much seriousness on reli- gious subjects, and frequently sat under the preaching of Rev. Dr. Stillman, the eloquent pastor of the first Baptist church in Boston. In October, 1804, he became a member of the first Congregational church in Roxburj^, under the ministry of Rev. Dr. Porter. His religious views, however, were not thoroughly settled, and during the latter part of his collegiate course he was oppressed with doubts as to the propriety of the step he had taken in making a public pro- fession of religion. He was m.oreover far from satisfied with the form of theolog}^ taught b}^ Dr. Porter. That church was one of many ancient churches in Massachusetts, which, when the line of division was drawn, about ten years after, was recognised as Unita- rian. Newell had not so learned the New-Testament as to yield his mind without a struggle to the " j^rogress " he witnessed, and between difficulties in theology and doubts as to his own religions state, began to absent himself from the communion. His old preceptor, a mem- ber of the same church, was not prepared to sj'mpathize with these views, and remonstrated against them, making application still of the same text that had been wielded with such effect in two former crises of Samuel's history. But his 3-outhful friend was not to be con- vinced that the following of that plough was the surest way into the kingdom of heaven. And so effectually was his teacher taught by these and subsequent communications between them, that his own views were ultimately modified, and the two were united in a com- mon fellowship of evangelical truth and piety. 148 SAMUEL NEWELL. After graduating, Mr. Newell spent a few months at Roxburj as an assistant teacher in the grammar school, and then took charge of an academy at Lynn. Here he designed to remain for some 3'ears, but his mind was turned towards the Christian ministry, and in 1809 he became a member of the Theological Seminary at Andover, at the same time uniting with the church there,* and was ranked by his instructors as one of the jewels of that institution. It was here that he became intimate with Judson and Nott, and entered into their purposes to preach the gospel to the heathen. He was one of the signers of that paper which evoked from the General Association of Massachusetts the constitution of the American board of Com- missioners for Foreign Missions, and was among the first to be set apart for that sacred work. In 1810 Mr. Newell left the seminar}-, and preached for some time at Howley, near Newburyport, Mass. In October of this year he was first introduced to Miss Harriet Atwood, of Haverhill, a young lady of devoted piety and a cultivated mind, to whom he made a proposal of marriage, which, after much conflict of feeling, inseparable from the consideration of an enterprise then so strange and untried, she accepted, becoming one of that first band of Ameri- can women whose missionary career has been so honourable to their sex and to their country. Mr. Newell in the following summer pro- ceeded to Philadelphia in company with Gordon Hal], for the study of Medicine. In February, 1812, he was married, and on the 19th, in company with Mr. and Mrs. Judson, the youthful pair set forth on their uncertain way. On his arrival at Serampore Mr. Newell wrote to Dr. Prentiss, acknowledging his obligations for the kindly aid he had received in his boyhood. "While I am writing to you," he said, "I cannot but go back in thought to the year 1801, when you found me, a poor, ignorant and friendless boy; and I cannot but acknowledge again, as I have often done, that the encouragement and friendly aid which I then received from you, was that which, under the providence of God, gave a new turn to all the succeeding events of my life. To you, probably, as the instrument of God, it is owing, that I am now a minister of Christ in heathen lands, and not a day-labourer in America. Permit me, dear sir, to renew my professions of gratitude * It is believed that he had not been connected with any other church *han that ill Roxbury. SAMUEL NEWELL. 149 for all tlie kindness you have shown me. It is with sentiments of real pleasure that I recollect the continued and increasing friend- ship that has subsisted, and I hope still subsists, between us. I hope and trust it is built on a foundation that will render it perpetual, on those feelings which are peculiar to such as have felt the bitterness of sin, and have found relief only from a Saviour's blood. If so, though we may meet no more on earth, yet we shall meet in a bet- ter world, where it will only increase our joy that we have been separated for a few days on earth." After a few weeks' pleasant sojourn at Serampore, the mission- aries were ordered to leave the country. They sought every means to avoid the necessity of returning to America, and having favour- able intelligence from the Isle of France, and a vessel offering pas- sage for two persons, Mr. and Mrs. Newell went on board August 4th, expecting that Mr. and Mrs. Judson would follow by the first opportunity. Their voyage was tedious and dangerous. They were tossed about nearly a month in the Bay of Bengal without making any sensible progress towards their destination. On the 27th the vessel sprung a leak, and they put into Coringa, a small port on the Coromandel coast, where they were detained a fortnight. They then reembarked. On the 13th of October they had the sorrow of com- mitting to the deep the body of an infant daughter born on ship- board. They arrived safely at Port Louis, the capital of the Isle of France, on the 31st. Here it became painfully evident to Mr. Newell, that his affliction on the voyage was but the beginning of sorrows. Mrs. Newell had shown symptoms of pulmonary disorder, which now assumed a fatal type. Medical aid was fruitless, and on the 30th of November, at the early age of nineteen, she exchanged the trials and sufferings of a missionary life, of which she had already experienced no small measure, for the rewards of the heavenly state. In this event, not her husband alone, but all the friends of missions felt wounded. The charm of an engaging domestic circle, and an ornament to the Christian church, she had surrendered all the enjoyments and endearments of a New England home, to devote her youthful ener- gies and sanctified affections to the divine service among the heathen. She had suffered the privations, without living to possess the ]3 resent recompenses of successful missionary effort. Her heart was set upon her sacred calling, and dearly as she loved her friends and country, .she was filled with sadness at the apprehension that she might be 150 SAMUEL NEWELL. compelled to withdraw from tlie work. But an authority higher than any earthly sovereignty summoned her to leave it when upon its threshold, and the record of her life and early death did more for the promotion of the cause than 3'ears of active service might have accomplished. There was power in the utterances of her holy and single devotion, augmented as they came wafted from her grave, that wrought with thrilling effect on multitudes. The painful event was announced by Mr. Newell to her mother, in a letter which at this distance of time has lost none of its pathos, for it is charged with the undying fervour of a heart-felt sorrow rising into joy by the force of immortal consolation. "I would tell you," he says, ''how God has disappointed our favourite schemes, and blasted our hopes of preaching Christ in India, and has sent us all away from that extensive field of usefulness with an intimation that lie has nothing for us to do there. I would tell you how he has visited us all with sickness, and how he has affected me in par- ticular, by taking away the dear babe which he gave us, the child of our prayers, of our hopes, of our tears. And I would tell you — • but 0, shall I tell it, or forbear? Have courage, my mother, God will support you under this trial; though it may for a time cause your very heart to bleed. Come, then, let us mingle our griefe, and weep together, for she was dear to us both ; and she, too, is gone. Yes, Harriet, your lovely daughter, is gone, and you will see her face no more ! My own dear Harriet, the wife of my youth and the desire of my eyes, has bid me a last farewell, and left me to mourn and weep. Yes, she is gone. I wiped the cold sweat of death from her pale, emaciated face, while we travelled together, down to the entrance of the dark valley. There she took her upward flight, and ascended to the mansions of the blessed!" Mr. Newell remained at the Isle of France for about three months after the burial of his wife. On the 2'lth of February he embarked for Bombay, intending to touch at Ceylon. On arriving at Point de Galle, where he expected to meet one or both of his brethren, he learned that Messrs. Hall and Nott were already at Bombay. From what he could learn of the temper of the government, he had no idea that they would be permitted to remain on the continent of India, while the friendship of Governor Brownrigg gave to Ceylon an aspect of greater encouragement as a missionary field, and he determined to abide there for the present. He addressed his brethren at Bombay, inviting them to Ceylon. They made an ineffectual attempt to SAMUEL NEWELL. 151 comply witli his invitation, but were providentially driven back to Bombay. They wrote that they had hopes of being permitted to remain there, and advised him to study with a view to join them. Here he remained about a year, apprehensive, from long silence, that they were already on their way to England, and with entire uncer- tainty resting on his prospects. He occupied himself with his studies, and preaching twice or three times a week to the English and half- caste people, of whom, he says, "there are thousands in and about Col umbo, who stand in need of instruction as much as the heathen." In November he wrote to the Corresponding Secretary of the Board. His bereavements, disappointments, loneliness and manifold uncertainties, had not weakened his desire to be about the great business that called him from his country. He set forth the advan- tages of Ceylon as a missionary station, in such terms as led to its subsequent occupation by the Board, and the success that has attended it confirms the soundness of his views. He also suggested Bussura, at the head of the Persian Gulf, as a desirable location for a missionary. In Januar}^, 1814, he received intelligence from Bombay that author- ized him to join his brethren there. He addressed a note to Governor Brownrigg, thanking him for his protection, and soliciting permission to depart, with testimonials to the Governor of Bombay. These were cheerfully granted, and on the 7th of March he had the happi- ness of joining his associates, whom he had not been permitted to see since he parted from them in America. From this time Mr. Newell became identified with the Bombay mission, entering with all hfs power into its duties, and bearing manfully his full share of its burdens. His individual life seemed to be in a manner swallowed up in the common enterprise, leaving no personal record that is not part of the mission history. In loving conjunction with Mr. Hall, he concerned himself in preaching, trans- lating, teaching, and stirring up their brethren at home to give themselves with increased energy to the work on which they were commissioned. "I have so little time for writing," he says, in a letter of July 14, 1816, "that (except my letters to the Board) lean do little more than to tell my friends that I remember them and love them." A literary project is thus mentioned as in question with them, but with unusual modesty postponed for reasons stated: "It is the inten- tion of Mr. Hall and myself to compose a Hindoo Pantheon, and some other things of the kind, as soon as we feel ourselves qualified. At 152 SAMUEL NEWELL. present we should be liable to commit endless blunders ; and we think it needless to add any more to the blunders that have already been made by those who have written on India. Even the Asiatic Kesearches are full of mis-statements, groundless assertions, whim- sical theories, &c. (but you must not tell anybody that I say so.) With some exceptions, (such as Sir William Jones, and others of the same stamp,) those who have written on subjects connected with this country have been uneducated men. The Company's servants who are sent out to this country, are generally of that description. Almost none, except the professional men (and man}?- of them need not be excepted,) have had a liberal education. But when they get here they are the lords of the land, and of course think themselves capable of doing anything. They lay down propositions involving the most important consequences, and for proof seem to think it quite sufficient to bring a few far-fetched analogies, a thousand of which would not amount to a probability." Unhappil}^, not only for such schemes, which were of secondary importance, but for the weightier interests of the mission, time was not given him to acquire the desiderated qualifications. In 1818 Mr. Newell was married to Miss Philomela Thurston, a lady who went out to Bombay the preceding year in company with two new missionaries appointed to that station. He continued to labour with all fidelity till his earthly mission was closed on the 30th of May, 1821. He had a presentiment that his time would be short, which he often expressed, but until the fatal event was imminent, no visible sign foretold its approach. He was in his usual health till the evening of the 28th, when he felt somewhat indisposed, and passed a restless night. The next morning he was worse, but no apprehension of danger was felt till about ten o'clock, when it became manifest that his disease was cholera, which was then epi- demic at Bombay and in the vicinity. It had made such progress that he was beyond the reach of medical aid, and he gradually sunk till one o'clock of the following morning, when he placidly breathed his last. His senses were early stupefied, so that conversation was impossible. A single remark fell from his lips, indicating that he knew the nature of his disease. When asked by his wife if he could not bid her farewell, he answered by shaking his head and gently pressing her hand. His remains were deposited in the English burying-ground. Mr. Newell's physical organization was delicate, but he usually SAMUEL NEWELL. 153' enjoyed very uniform good health. His manners were prepossess- ing, his demeanor modest, his'^habitual temper earnest, affectionate and confiding. He had in a large measure those engaging qualities which lie at the basis of enduring friendship, and the ties which bound him to his chosen associates in his earlier and later life were of the nearest and most tender kind. His intellect was strong, and diligently cultivated, and his acquired knowledge was extensive, the fruit of unremitting and judicious application, but his estimate of himself was humble. He laboured with unyielding energy, and without ostentation. All his aims and efforts were subordinated to the sense of Christian duty, and pervaded by an habitual piety, the spring of cheerfulness as regarded himself, but of deep sadness in view of the miseries of the heathen. The strength of his will, the height of his courage, were half- veiled from view by his magnan- imous sympathy, his quick and tender sensibilities, that responded to the first appeal. In his early removal, the church lost a faithful servant, the world a whole-hearted philanthropist, a wide circle of friends their hope and joy; and heaven gained a jewel such as earth does not often present to adorn the holy city. IIKJ^'RY WATSON FOX. There are so-;,. . whose coriforjnity to a high }• is so thorough us to seem spontav!.": -; I'saX their .-x. from the absei.oe of visible efi: impression o« aa observer than sional yieldi!>L's to resistance will, speed to rucke ;in the loss. If. - or truggle, makes a f;; ere more inequa.' likely that, ho v. I, it will fail to challenge its jusi nieas- ..>.[-ju. ^ * ' thought that for the world, .•^? i* :iio Vv'st - ■ rnn'Vr fo society i.'* to ji' ' o US, has been truly taught, lives that are true by thai . nearly approaching to it in their aim and purpose, are not so numer- ■■rxi that the memorial of one can justly be deemed superfluous. 'L'lie life, a brief outline of which we here propose, was short, and wari surely not splendid, if judged alone by its exterior. The num- b .: ' '' 'ately visibly was : ^. Kor \v„s ' ■>' d its lapses. Y r, on ai ■ tlvelysar\( es it of litth to himself <^ the ' ^ !,s character. ilenry'Watson Fox wan born at AVl ae county of Durham, hngland, October 1, 1817. He was of the unspeakable blessiri"^:- . f :i nii; ■• lo the full character oi of the decided, covisisteftt 0; by other members of the L. the daily silent influences that moulded his character and gave u to his aims we; i healthful kind. T^ up in the enjo}-; ,.,;iie. His father a: -^ .: "eman a beautiful example •A his example was secluded The direct instructions and i II m %: ^ ^ f' TV. ■'/■'■■ f 'I'/j f '■.'h'. 'l'-//: {, rj .'. # ■ V,'/ r. . 'f: r. '•'/•; f ^-^^■% 156 HENRY WATSON FOX. to the Christian discipline of his home, where his early education was conducted till the age of eleven. He then went to the Durham Grammar School for two years, and at the age of thirteen was removed to Rugby School, at that time under the direction of Dr. Arnold, a man of whose excellences it is difficult to speak in fit terms to those not familiar with his life and character, without the appearance of exaggeration. To a vigorous intellect, extensive learning and commanding influence, he added a lofty ideal of Chris- tian manliness, that he loved to hold up to his pupils for their attainment, and which is more, that he exemplified in a degree and with a consistency rarely equalled. Next to a home graced with the utmost social refinement, and sanctified by the spirit of true piety, no greater blessing could have been conferred on the boyhood of Henry Fox than he found in the guidance of Dr. Arnold during the six years he spent at Rugby. ■ His first decisive indications of a religious character showed themselves at the age of fifteen. His personal relations to the great truths of Christianity seem to have been clearly seen and submit- ted to, not, indeed, without serious conflict, but with less mental agitation than is experienced by many, especiallj^ of those who meet the issue later in life. His earliest impressions were the fruit of the faithful and affectionate admonitions of a brother and sister, to whom he often expressed the warmest gratitude, and from whose counsels he sought guidance and support as he went on his wa}^ The letters in which the progress of his religious life is disclosed, show a strength and sobriety of mind beyond the common attainment of such tender years. Moreover they have a charming simplicity and directness, being free from anything like cant or set phrases of devotion, but showing how the weightiest truths were applied to the common pur- suits and trials of a school-boy, and how diligently, according to his opportunities, he sought to do good. "Temptations," he sa3^s, "come on so insinuatingly that I can scarcely perceive them at first. The two greatest are, I think, pride of heart, in thinking myself better than others, in comparing myself with others; and though in my understanding I see how wicked I am, yet my heart is so sinful that it is with difficulty I find means of repressing such thoughts. The other temptation is, wasting time, which comes on by little and little, but which I hope soon to be able, with God's assistance, to over- come. I find myself so sinful, that were it not for Christ's blessed promises, I could scarcely fixncy he would hear me; but he has felt HENRY WATSON FOX. 157 the infirmities and temptations of man, and from thence I derive great comfort." "There is a very interesting case here. There is a little boy about fourteen years old, in other respects a nice little boy, and one whom I was rather fond of: but, the other day, in talking with him, I discovered he never read his Bible; in short, he knew nothing of the Christian religion. I have been endeavouring to impress on him the awful ness of his state, but he seems scarcely to care whether he is lost or saved. He understands neither heaven nor hell, nor that he is born for any other state than this, — that is to say, he does not feel it to be the case: he has apparently been completely neg- lected at home with respect to religious matters. Now I want to know how to proceed with him,' — how to open his mind, — for I think when he once perceives in his heart how wicked he, together with all others are, that he will be more able and willing to under- stand the truths of the gospel," In a subsequent letter he speaks of his "little pupil," as improv- ing. Another boy with whom he conversed excited hopes which proved illusory. The self-denials of a Christian life were too much for his inclinations. " I was the more disappointed in him," Ilenry writes, "as I had before found him willing in the general, but when I came to particulars, and he saw he must give up certain pleasures if he would give himself entirely to God, then he thought he had gone far enough and I had gone too far: for God tells us to go as far as we can^ So he evidently sought to press forward, and to* this end made very diligent use of the means of grace. "I always find the Sun- day," he writes, "too short for what I want to do on it. I therefore intend to make some other day during the week like a second Sun- day, and, except my lessons, read and think of nothing save God only. Many others here think as I used to do formerly, that Sun- day is too long, and therefore spend two or three hours in bed longer than usual, and spend the day inlistlessness, or perhaps worse, never thinking what a blessing they are throwing awny. I feel now as you told me you did, that the Sabbath is quite a rest from the worldly thoughts of the other parts of the week. Last Sun- day was a most beautiful da^^, and I took a walk b}' mj-self into the country, and never felt so happy before. I continued for more than an hour praising and praying to God, and thanking him. I shall never neglect it again. I felt it as a preparation for heaven." i53 HENRY WATSON FOX. His progress, as may be supposed in one so 3^oung, was slow and sometimes tentative, but generally sure. "What I have till now found my greatest difficulty," he writes, a few weeks after, "has been prayer, I could offer up words, but as I could have no idea of God, I felt I could not offer up my heart to him: but lately, on thinking and at last feeling, that God is always present in my inmost soul, I can heartily ask for what I need, and often, and continual!}^ througli- out the day, keep my thoughts on him, which I used to find almost impossible. I derive the very greatest advantage from this, for whilst I am continually keeping my heart with God, it is contrary to ni}^ very nature to commit sin against him ; that is, at least, known sin. I feel and know that this has not been through my own means, but throu^^'h the Q-race of God alone." And a month later he savs: "I feel so happy now; I have at last been able to overcome my greatest temptation, viz: of lying in bed too late; and in examin- ing myself in an evening, I generally find that God has enabled me to overcome every known temptation during the day," His con- ceptions were still indistinct on some important subjects, but he was in "the path of the just," and the light shone "brighter and brighter unto the perfect day." On reaching the "sixth form," he found himself invested, by virtue of his standing, with the dignity of " praeposter." By thus committing to the older boys a share in the discipline of the school, Dr. Arnold sought to develope the more sober and manly qualities, and Avhile this custom, and their privilege of " fagging" their juniors, ■which Dr. Arnold kept in full force, involved some risk of tj^ranny on the part of bad boys, yet the sense of responsibility, the con- sciousness that on them the discipline, and consequently the credit of the school, largely depended, exerted a valuable influence on members of "the sixth." "I find a very difficult point to manage in my duty as praposter," Henry wrote, "namely, to draw the line between 'official' and 'personal' offences, — to discover where I feel revenge, and where I do anything to enforce the power that properly belongs to me. I think I may learn from this not to desire earthly power, as it only increases our difficulties and temptations." The profession to which he was originally destined was the law, but other desires were gradually awakened. These he expressed in a letter to his sister, of April 13, 1835: "I feel every day an increas- ing desire of becoming a clergyman. I desire to be alwa\'S employed ill more immediately serving God, and bringing many souls untc HENRY WATSON FOX. 159 salvation. I am aware tliat we can do our duty and a great deal of good in every station of life; but I think that a clergyman is more particularly appointed to do good, being a light set upon a hill. I have hitherto, and I know you have at home also, looked forward to my going to the bar, but it is not so now, — it can scarcely ever be too late to change my prospects. If it is particularly the wish of my father and mother and you all that I should fulfill the original proposition, I willingly acquiesce; but if it is indifferent, or of no great importance to you, I should prefer very much to enter the service of the church." It was not long before his thoughts went still further. In August he writes: "I have been reading the life of Henry Martyn, and I have derived the most instructing les- sons from it. I found how much the enjoyment of things of this world has hold on me, and when I considered his state of giving himself up to be a missionary, and asked myself, could I give up home and the pleasures and happiness I enjoy from worldly objects, to do this laborious work for the Lord's sake? I found the weak- ness of my love to God, and my need of constant prayer that I may set my affections on things above, and not things below; that I may confide my present as well as my future happiness to my heavenly Father, and make God my all in all, my desire, my hap- piness and my hope." To do every thing "for God's glory," he repeatedly speaks of as his constant aim. His liveliest apprehensions and most constant jealousies of himself were awake on this point. In studies, recrea- tions, efforts to do good, the dread of acting from selfish or worldly motives, led to continual watchfulness. In a letter of April 17, 1836, he saj^s: "I feel a very great temptation attacking me now, in the form of a love of this world, which has come upon me from the prospect of the examinations at the end of this half-year: for these are constantly before my eyes, on account of my preparation for them, and I am led to look forward to them as the end to which nil my present labours are to be directed, instead of doing all things directly for God's sake ; — this necessarily brings a great darkness over me, since I am tempted to have another object in view instead of Christ; but yet with the temptation God gives a way to escape, and I trust and pray, that by His grace I may not only come out of this trial unhurt, but improved by it. I read in Dr. Arnold's sermons to-day, that 'if we have truly tasted that the Lord is gra- cious, our only reason for wishing to remain on earth must be to 160 HENRY WATSON FOX. furtlier liis kingdom,' and I thought how very true, and yet how many other motives do we allow to come in the way; — how many other ties to earth do we make for ourselves!" The thought of a missionary life was more vividly excited by an address on that subject. "We had a very nice meeting here about a week ago," he writes, June 13; "Baptist Noel was present, and gave a very interesting account of missions in the east, especially of an entrance into China; he made me remember Ilenry j\[artyn." — "It was very refreshing and useful to me, and may perhaps be the cause of still more good ; for what Mr. Koel spoke so earnestly about, — the want not of funds merely, but of missionaries, — has much more than even before led me to think seriously of so em ploying the talents which God has given me." At midsummer of this year he bade adieu to Rugby, the scene of so much enjoyment and profit, and to his venerated instructor, of whom he ever spoke with expressions of gratitude and admiration. He had intended to offer himself for a scholarship in "Wadham Col- lege, Oxford, and was preparing to go up to the examination, when a sudden illness detained him at Rugby. In explaining the deten- tion to his friends, he wrote: "This has happened at an unfortunate time, as we call things unfortunate ; but as it was not in our own hands, but in His who has knowledge and power infinitely beyond ours, we have no more reason to call it unfortunate than the con- trary ; it is not our own will or good we seek, — and He knows the best, both what is best for us, Imd how we may be the better enabled to work to His glory; that was to be the only end of my gaining the scholarship." — "Now I am only afraid lest my father should be much disappointed; though for my own sake I would rather that it should be as it is, than that I should have tried for it and failed, as that, I think, would have disappointed him still more." Mr. Fox began his residence at Oxford in October, 1836. His course at Rugby had been honourable to him as a scholar, awaken- ing high expectations of success at the university, while his moral and religious principles were more firmly established than in most young men of his age. But he was yet overcome in a measure by the temptations incident to life at Oxford, and his course disappointed his own hopes and the anticipations of his friends. A spirit of self- indulgence and carelessness in the disposal of his time, which the rigid discipline of school had repressed, relaxed his exertions in HENRT WATSON FOX. 16l study. An incautious choice of associates, and a love of exciting amusements, especially of boat-racing, aggravated these dispositions, and caused a declension from his former religious ardour. So that although his deportment was exemplary and his standing as a scholar respectable, he failed of those distinctions which seemed within his reach, and, what most grieved him in the retrospect, fell backward from the high spiritual standard towards which he had so bravely borne himself while at Eugby. The tractarian move- ment, the development of which has seemed so much to abridge the distance and facilitate the journey between Oxford and Eome, was then in its beginning. Fox, like many others, was somewhat daz- zled with the show of devotion made by the leaders in this effort to " unprotestantize the Church of England," but was happily unshaken in his faith, and was not long in discovering the tendency of things. Years afterwards, in India, when a brahmin refused to take a copy of St. Luke's Gospel, with the plea that he could not understand it on account of the intended obscurity of all "sacred writings," he exclaimed, "Who would have expected the principle of tract No. 90 to have been forestalled in an obscure Hindoo village!" But during the third year of his university course his mind and heart appeared to recover their tone. He became more active in the discharge of his religious duties, struggled with and overcame his besetting temptations. In connection with this quickening of his spiritual affections, the desire to become a missionary was rekin- dled. He took his degree in December, 1839, but resided for some months after at Oxford, during which time he decided to offer him- self for the foreign service of the church. This decision was not made on any hasty impulse, nor was it resisted by any of those excuses which are always at hand when sought for. He considered the subject deliberately, anxiously weighing reasons and testing his motives, with earnest prayer and the advice of experienced friends. If he did not much dwell on the personal sacrifices he must make, it was from no stoical insensi- bility, for his affections were strong; but it was because he sought something higher than his own present enjoyment. Compared with the question, "by what (life or) death he should glorify God," every thing else was laid out of view, not without "some natural tears," hut with more than heroic, — with Christian fortitude. In January, 1840, he writes; ^^ I must he a missionary. My reasons 11 162 HENRY WATSON FOX. are simply tliese: that there is an overwhelming call for missionaries to the heathen, and we, the Church of England, have been drawing down punishments on our heads by our neglect in not hearing the call; and thus some one must go, and if no one else will go, he who hears the call, (peculiarly adapted for the service or no) must go, I hear the call, for indeed God has brought it before me on every side, and go I must." — "As often as I turn the question in my mind, I can only arrive at the same conclusion, and weak and earthly as are many of my present motives for going, (for I am full of romantic fancies.) yet I see reasons far beyond these motives, and pray that my heart may be filled by more worthy motives, and a pure and single love of men in Christ; and I know that when I enter on my labours such fancies will be driven away like chaff," In his journal about the same time he says: "My great desire now is, that my heart may be made single, so that my motive for going or staying may be simply the saving of souls, to Jesus' glory; but at present they are mingled with a thousand feelings of romance and heroism. And 0! my God, my God, men are perishing, and I take no care!" As the time for final decision drew near, his anxieties deepened. His conclusion is thus stated in his journal of March 27: "To-day I have come to my final decision to be a missionary ; I am well sat- isfied and convinced as to this being my true course of dutj'-, and I thank God for making it so plain to me. Emeris sat with me during the evening, and we prayed together for guidance, and help, and comfort in our absence." — "I am willing and thankful to give myself up to do God's service, by preaching to the heathen, and leaving father and mother, brothers and sisters, home and friends; yea, and if it please Him, life itself. It is an honour too great for me. Oh ! may grace be given me to serve Him in it!" He attended the anniversary services of the Church Missionary Society in May, which seem to have stirred his heart not a little, and in a letter to a friend he gave utterance to his thoughts and emotions in language of more than usual strength and solemnity: "I am more and more daily assured in my heart (my head used to tell me so before) that any object but that of glorifjdng God is not only vanity and vexation, but must fail to satisfy, and cannot be blessed: I wish to strive to do all to his glory who has died for us that we might come freely to him for salvation ; and having been taught by his Spirit to know, myself, the liberty and joy of being his. I would wish (but daily have to mourn for fdling so short even HENRY WATSON FOX. 163 in my wishes,) to be given up to preaching and urging on others the glorious truth. If I have not to die in so doing, I hope I may live to do so, and live in doing so. Do try to look on life as a great energy for doing good to others; the source of such energy to spring from God, and to be obtained by prayer continually, and a pure devotion of the heart to him; seek rather to cast away such objects as bettering one's condition in the world, or earthly happiness; these are very well as means, but as ends they are quite unsatisfactory." In the same letter there is an unexpected and beautiful disclosure of tender feeling at the thought of bidding adieu to England : " This afternoon we had a very heav}' rain ; but about five it cleared up, and there was an hour or two of 'clear shining after rain' peculiarly brilliant in its lights and what scenes the light fell on: — all over to Bath was still overshadowed by the storm, the air thick up Ashton Vale ; to the west all was brilliant. I walked out on the Downs, and sat on the look-out point for half an hoar, to the influences of shapes and sounds and shifting elements surrendering my whole spirit. The air was soft and balmy, and perfectly calm; the smell was as of fresh grass; the sounds were of 'two or three thrushes' and the shouting of the cuckoo: the sights were the lovely Lea Woods and Nightingale Valley, all in the tenderest, softest green, half hid in dazzling light, half lying in quiet shade, and the gray rock shining through and against them. I must leave them all ; the green woods, the balmy air, the birds' song, the English homes and green lanes, the little cottages and their gardens, the children with their blue eyes and flaxen hair, are all soon to be seen for the last time; bu1» I am thankful to say, I never so much as feel a wish to stay, thougli I feel a regret at going. We need much strength which is not in ourselves to bear our trials, and not repine or shrink from going through them; it is truly through much suffering that we must enter into the kingdom of heaven; but it bears its fruit even at present, for God has promised spiritual blessings which shall more than compensate for the loss of relations, and friends, and home." lie was ordained by the Bishop of London, December 21, 18-10, and on the thirtieth was married. He had been previously appointed by the Church Missionary Society to labour among the Teloogoos in southern India. It happened that Rev. Eobert T. Noble, of Sid- ney Sussex College, Cambridge, had his mind drawn to the same Work, among the same people, and he and Mr. Fox, unknown to each other, offered themselves and were accepted at the same time. 16-i HENRY WATSON FOX. From one painful trial that not unfrequcntly saddens tlie departure of a missionary Mr. Fox was spared, — the opposition of near friends. Both his parents cordially assented to his wishes, and even counted themselves happy in having a son willing to devote himself to so good a work. They responded heartily to the appeal which he addressed to his mother, an appeal which, more than almost any- thing that came from his pen, shows how much strength was mingled in a character of so profound tenderness: "I have to thank both you and my father for giving consent to my plan of being a mis- sionary; and a hundred times have I had cause to thank you in my heart for it, and to feel the comfort of it; but I wish, and it is for your own sake that I wish it, that you gave j^our consent and now concurred more willingly and heartily ; not merely allowing me to go, but with zeal sending me forth: and I wish this, not because you should destroy the feelings which cause pain at the prospect of my departure, nor because I think it a light thing that you should have given even a half-willing consent, but because our gifts to God should be given with the whole heart; for 'God loveth a cheerful giver;' and if such be the spirit in which we should give our gold and silver, how much more should it be that in which we should give our own flesh and blood. Nor is it only a yielding to a fancy of mine, or to my judgment that the missionary sphere is the one most needing assistance, that I ask of you to give both liberally and cheerfully, but I ask of you heartily to acquiesce in the guidance of God's providence. I believe from the bottom of my heart, with that strong sense of certainty and assurance which is only given to us on important points, that the missionary course of life on which I am about to enter, is my peculiar mission and work for which I was brought into this world ; and that, unless I was to follow the course so providentially and clearly pointed out to me in my heart, I might, so far as my peculiar work of life is concerned, as well be in my grave." His parents showed themselves worthy of such a son. None could more keenly feel the disruption of the ties of nature, and nothing but an entire subjection to the claims of duty, and a large measure of the spirit that animated him, would have enabled them to make such a sacrifice. " The separa- tion about to be made," says his brother, " was at that time looked upon aa final, and my brother's character was so endearing, that it seemed to all as if we had given up the choicest member, him whom our hearts could least afford to spare ; yet surely when making an offering to God, it should not be the maimed or the lame, but the choicest of the flock." HENRY WATSON FOX. 165 On the 6tli of March, 1841, he was parted from them in London, whence he and his wife proceeded to Gravesend, but were detained till the 8th, and then embarked for Madras, where they arrived Jul}^ 5tli. From Madras they proceeded to Masulipatam, or Bunder, three hundred miles northward, and began preparations for their labours. It was arranged that Mr. Noble should undertake a school, while on Mr. Fox alone devolved the duty of preaching, — in a city of eighty thousand people, and among a nation of ten millions. His first care was naturally the acquisition of the language, in which he made such progress by the next summer, as to be able to commmunicate some religious instruction to the servants in his house. The romantic feelings of which he accused himself while his mission was prospective, — if they really existed, and were not rather brought to view as something possible, to be anticipated and vigilantly repelled, — did not long survive contact with life in India. Shortly after he was settled at his work he wrote: "It is no sinecure to be a missionary. I do not mean anything regarding any work I have at present to do, for my present is just like the work I have had in past years, — language-learning, — and our movements and changes have hitherto prevented this from coming in any sufficient quantities to prove a weight to me; but I mean that a missionary life does not deliver me from spiritual trials, such as used to beset me of old. There are just the same temptations to indolence and love of ease, which have been my besetting sins all along; just the same reluctance to prayer and the reading of the Scriptures; in fact, I see nothing but the grace of God to prevent a missionary from being as cold and dead a Christian as ever vegetated in an English parish." — "It is one thing to give up home, country, friends, &c. ; to be a misionary is another, — to take up our cross, forsake all, and follow Christ. For that all which is to be forsaken has followed me here; it is not without, but within; a man may travel, and yet not bear his cross; all this I knew and expected; now I experience it. It does not dishearten me. I never expected that the being a mis- sionary was to work any such wonderful change which belongs to the work of the Spirit alone." In reference to some difficulties arising from the diffusion of traet- arian errors by certain missionaries, which the Church Missionary Society took prompt measures to guard against, he wrote: "I was much grieved to find that such sad opinions had spread into the missionary field, and I feel very thankful that our society has been 166 HENRY WATSON FOX. enabled to act so decisively. I have heard of similar opinions among some Propagation Gosjiel Society missionaries in Bengal, who go among the native Christians, telling them they cannot be saved unless baptized by, and living under the ministry of apostoli- cally-descended episcopal clergy ; which has often reminded me of those Pharisees who came down to Antioch, requiring the converts to be circumcised. It is evil enough at home, but it appears to me even more destructive in missions, to set the form before the spirit; and futile must be the attempt to win souls to Christ, by any other means than by himself" Before Mr. Fox had gained entire command of the language, he was admonished of the uncertainty of all human purposes by a decided prostration of health. His constitution was apparently strong and his health in England robust, but in the exciting and enervating climate of India, " the very redundancy and fulness of a healthful temperament," his brother remarks, "seems to have proved a bane." A nervous debility unfitted him for labour, and he was advised to remove with his wife and their little son to Oolocamund, on the Neilgherry hills, two hundred miles inland, where he enjoyed a salubrious climate and the most delightful and romantic sceneiy. He was accompanied on this journey by Mary Paterson, an East India girl, whose history was afterwards associated with his most pleasing recollections. She was the daughter of an English physi- cian, who on his death left her to the guardianship of Eev. J. Tucker, of Madras, but before the protracted legal proceedings in the matter were brought to a close, her mother, a Teloogoo woman, had brouglit her up to the age of fourteen in confirmed heathenism. Mr. Tucker now committed her to the care of Mr. and Mrs. Fox, who undertook the arduous task of eradicating the effects of evil education, and implanting the principles of Christianity. She was wild and uncouth in her manners, slovenly in her habits, entertained debasing notions of religion, and it required the most patient efibrt to subdue her to better habits of thought and behaviour. But in the course of two years they had the satisfaction of seeing an entire transformation, and in no long time after, she gave delightful evidence of true Christian character. Great interest was excited in all who observed the beautiful development of her mind under the influence of judi- cious literary and spiritual culture, when she was suddenly removed by death, at the age of nineteen, to that higher life for which she had been visibly maturing. nENRY WATSON FOX. 167 After a residence on the hills for nearly two years, Mr. Fox returned with his family to Masulipatam in October, 1844, his health completely restored, and entered with ardour upon his ministerial labours: "I go out among the people," he writes, "and get a little talk with them, so lamely and poorly on my part as to appear wholly inefficient: and the people either dispute and oppose, or listen with indifference, and were it my own word I had to tell them I should soon get out of heart; but I know the sword of God, clumsily handled though it be, must reach the hearts of some of them ; so I come away quite joyfully from the midst of the opposition or the sluggishness." It must have required great faith to maintain a stout heart in a struggle so arduous and so lonely. In a letter urging the need of help, he says: "I am alone in the work of preaching and general evangelizing in the town and villages: and what can I do? I am lost and bewildered in the multitude of work." — "There lies before me the crowded population of this large town of sixty to ninety thou- sand inhabitants: these are to be preached to, to have an impression made on them. If I go to one part one day, and to another part another day, my time and labour are dissipated. If I keep myself to one portion, my labour is swallowed up in the great flood of heathen- ism: it is like trying to clear a spot of ground in the centre of a luxuriant jungle, — the roots of the surrounding trees fill up the spot I am at work on, faster than I can clear. Again, there are the villages in the suburbs, fine populous villages. Again, there are the numerous villages and still more numerous hamlets studding the country all round about. "Where to begin I know not." The labours of his colleagues in the school, being directed con- stantly to a limited number, were more encouraging. The pupils were making good progress in their studies, and their minds, he says, were "rapidly rising above the ordinary style of that of the natives." Nor were they without success in more important respects. "In the first class are two very nice young men, members of wealthy and most respectable families, whose hearts seem much touched with the gospel. The eldest of the two is much troubled with his sins, and says he has often risen at night, and walked about for hours, troubled with the sense of them. He prays, I believe. He is a peculiarly amiable, loving and loveable young man, and I feel for him much of the affection of a brother. Should it please God to convert him, he would have much to give up in his family and connections. J68 HEXRY WATSON FOX. "On the last Sunday of the year I baptized our Ayeh (nursery maid) in the little native congregation meeting at Mr. Noble's house: she walks consistently, and seems to drink in with eagerness all spiritual truth we teach her. My servants, ten or twelve in num- ber, are an interesting congregation every morning; two of them are now baptized; about two others, I feel much interest, hoping the spirit is working in them, though it is only stirring up the mud." In the spring of this year he was able to substitute preaching to a small congregation for discursive "essays to do good" in the streets and bazars. "A regular in-door meeting," he says, "is much more suitable for instruction. I shall now be as it were in the school of one Tyrannus, alias disputing weekly in the house of one Lewis. I begin to understand St. Paul better, in his requests, that his friends would pray for him: — 1st, That a door might be opened for him; 2d, That utterance might be given him ; and 8d, That he might be enabled to speak boldly the mysteries of the gospel." To his brother Eobert, in prospect of ordination, he wrote an earnest letter, July 9, stirring him up to activity in his profession; "It is no lioht or shallow matter to be a soldier of Christ; the cross taken up daily, the sturdy bending of the whole man into the one object of the glory of God; the viewing the unseen world of God, (not of philosophy) instead of the visible things of time. This cannot be a shallow matter, it must be deep or not at all; Christ altogether or not at all; no halves, no 'dilettanti' work in such a business as this; and yet how many hang about, calling themselves earnest Christians, taking up the profession, and in some measure the approbation of Christ's service, and yet are never heart-worship- pers at all; never get beyond the approval of reason or the likings of the mouth." — " When it pleases God to make you a minister, you must be just like an Oxford eight-oar at the races: — up to now you have been waiting, training, and are ready to start, but the moment you are started you must be off, straining every nerve in your work till the end. A minister is never off duty." — "Be a working clergyman; you have been long preparing; now work, work, work, for the salvation of souls, for the extending of Christ's kingdom; water your own field first, then every body else's." An all-wdse Providence sviddenly interrupted his own whole- hearted, never-resting work. In the autumn of 1845 the health of Mrs. Fox so rapidly declined that a change of climate appeared HENRY WATSON FOX. 169 indispensable. He accompanied her to Madras to arrange for her departure to England, Avith the intention of himself return nig to his station. But in the opinion of their medical advisers the probability of her recovery under the most favourable conditions of climate were so slight, that he decided to embark with her. She was con- veyed on board ship in the evening of the 30th of October, intend- ing to sail the next day ; — but before sail was set for the voyage she had entered a more secure haven ; she died suddenly from the burst- ing of an abscess in the liver, causing suffocation. Thus early was she removed from a work on which her affections were most strongly fixed, and in which she had been greatly useful, leaving a husband afflicted in no common measure, and three orphaned children, the objects of her wise and affectionate care. After the burial of his wife at Madras, Mr. Fox and his family pursued their desolate voyage. The youngest of the children soon sickened and died, and was buried at Cuddalore, where the vessel put in for that purpose. These repeated blows came heavily upon the father's heart, the more because there was no one on ship board to whom he could utter his feelings. Bufthis very circumstance was for his good. It drove him more exclusively to that Friend whose sympathy is all-sufficient, and so fully was divine consolation imparted, so greatly was affliction sanctified to his spiritual profit, that under the utmost pressure of grief he could feel the impulses of a pro founder gratitude. "I do thank Him," he wrote, "for my own sake, that he has laid this burden upon me; in very faithful- ness he has afflicted me, and for my own sake I am unable to wish that this sorrow had not come; for I could not without it have had such experience of Christ's tender love, of his powerful support and rich consolations. I do not know how those who are without Christ can go through such a sorrow: it seems to me as if it would have driven me out of my senses at times, if I had not had, not onlv the comfort of divine truth in my mind, but the strength of Christ '^iven me immediately from himself" During the voyage he laboured actively for the religious benefit of his fellow-voyagers, and had the delightful evidence that with respect to some his efforts were not in vain. He remained in England six months, during which time he exerted himself by every means in his power to awaken an interest in his field of labour, and particularly to obtain an increase of missiona- ries. He was indefatigable in urging personally on j^oung men at 170 HENRY WATSON FOX. the universities tlie duty of consecrating themselves to the vi^orlc. Tn this he found much to discourage, few ready to respond as he desired to his appeals, but he left no means untried to effect some- thing for India. As the time approached for his return, the thought of parting from his two children was very bitter to his soul; but he was able, with a good degree of cheerfulness, to leave them, under Providence, to the same faithful guardianship to which his own childhood was so largely indebted; and on October 20th, 1816, he took passage at Southampton, in the Ripon steamer for Madras, by the "overland" route. He arrived at Ceylon on the 6th and at Madras on the 10th of December. His return to these too-well-remembered scenes, and the entrance on his work with all of earth that he most prized at such a distance from him, brought a fresh trial to his spirit, but we soon see him surrendering all his powers to the ministry in which his soul delighted. His journal for the following year shows him in the most active exercise of his powers, proclaiming the truth at all times and in all places, in season and out of season, wherever he could find ears to hear. To cavilling brahmins who pertinaciously denied first principles, to besotted sensualists, to the worldly and indifferent, he daily proclaimed the words of eternal life. At heathen festivals, in the streets of cities, in the numerous villages scattered through the country, he spoke boldly and hopefully, against opposition, which grieved, but could not discourage him. When first setting out as a missionary, he felicitated himself on the prospect of being "a pioneer in a land in which he hoped and believed the Christian church will hereafter be triumphant." A change took place in his views, and during this period of his work his letters show that he had adopted the millenarian doctrine, that the setting up of the kingdom of Christ on earth is to be by his personal coming and reign. Bat this did not slacken, it rather increased his activity, for he held that before that event can take place the gospel must be preached to all nations. He writes: "I think I have, for the last two or three years past, at least, ceased to expect, as unauthorized by the prophecies, an universal or general conversion of the nations to Christ. Some may become professedly so or not, but one object of a missionary is to be engaged in calling Christ's sheep out of this naughty world and gathering them together to wait for him. But ray strong motive of late, has been the prom- ise, that when the gospel has been ineaclied (it does not say received HENRY WATSON FOX. 171 or not) among all nations, then shall the end come : so that when I go and tell the people of Christ,— Avhether they listen or not, — one of the two grand objects of my mission is already completed." The other object, — the conversion of individual souls, — was fulfilled to a limited extent: a few cases afforded him a present reward. Though he sowed the good seed mainly with the hope of its future germination, he was permitted to gather some of the first fruits. What he might have accomplished, had he been spared to con- tinue through many years of activity in India, cannot be conjectured. But his time was short. Like him whose brief and brilliant career stirred within him his first desires of missionary work, he was early- withdrawn from it. But, unlike Martyn, he was privileged to end his days among his kindred, and to find a grave where he had been early taught the resurrection and the life. Toward the close of the year 1847 he was reduced by repeated attacks of dysentery, which compelled him to try the sea air. He sailed along the coast, but without material improvement, and on repairing to Madras was decidedly advised by physicians that he could not endure the climate of India, and must resign all further prospect of missionary labour. The disappointment was extreme, and he often spoke of it as the sorest trial of his life, but there was no alternative, and he submitted himself to the divine disposal. He arrived in England in March, 1848, just in time to witness the peaceful close of his father's life. He revisited his college, but the beauty and interest of those long-remembered scenes did not minis- ter to his enjoyment. " They make me think," he wrote to his sister, "of all that has passed since — my five years with dear Elizabeth, and my missionary life in India; and till I go down to the grave myself, and till I am called away from all work on earth, these two recollec- tions cannot but contain much that is bitter. My cessation from missionary work is still a fresh grief, and at times it is very hard to bear; I knew it would be a trial, but I did not know how great a one, and sometimes I begin to think of going back again, but am checked by the strong assurance that I have, that I should return to India, — but not to active work. How little do men know the real state of the case, when they think that the trial consists of going to be a missionary ! for with all its palliations of returning to Eng- land— to home, friends, family, and children — it is the coming from being a missionary which is the real sorrow: and beautiful as are 172 HENRY WATSON FOX. our green fields and hedge-rows, they make me sigh to be back at dear Bunder, even in the midst of this burning May." His lieakh was rapidl}^ restored, and he began to consider in what way he could be useful in England, The Church Missionary Society offered him the post of assistant Secretarj'^, which was so congenial to his feelings from its relation to the cause he had most at heart, that he promptly accepted it, and entered on its duties with an energy that excited the best hopes in the friends of the society, but which proved too great for his strength. It was a time of unusual interest, — the jubilee of the society was to be celebrated on the first of November, the fiftieth anniversary of its formation. To this occasion he looked forward with lively satisfaction, but before it arrived he was not, — for God took him. A relapse of his Indian complaint arrested his labours, and he visited Durham in September to gain a few weeks of recreation. He reached home on the 1-lth in a feeble condition, but notwithstanding officiated twice on the ensuing Sab- bath at South Shields, addressed a missionary meeting on Monday at Bishop Wearmouth, and another on Tuesday evening at Durham. Though much weakened, no danger was apprehended, but the ensu- ing two days he kept his room, and thenceforth his bed. He grad- ually sunk under his disease, and after lingering for nearly three weeks, in near prospect of eternity, and with increasing desire to depart, giving full testimony of hope and joy, of unshaken faith and patience, "Life so gently ceased to be, It lapsed in immortality." It was a blessed end of a life such as it is not often given to human pens to record: — an eminently useful life; but if it had accomplished less by direct action, the example of so pure, and noble, so simple, ingenuous and unselfish a character, would still have been by itself an invaluable bequest to the world. In the most emphatic sense of a word not to be lightly uttered, he was a godly man. The aim, and the consummation, of his earthly existence was, "to glorify God and ENJOY Him for ever." XSa JLILoB, T ii 0 M /. Thomas c.- of Wesleyan }> foundation of seve^ j^ustr'ned by tl con, in Wfilcs, died ir; ^ in Er y, leavi) •i ^,Ma :;-; ■■iiiiV prOgieSS 1 America, and witL the . "oiitlv At the age of se- c. agaiubt tiioir _..,. _ ... 'llo had a - uCTid, traditionary belief in the, divinity of the Christian faith, and the doctrine of a superintending Providence, but of the grounds or the extent of that faith and its demand? n'-»'- Shway Gnong, and another a female disciple, the first of her sex in Burmah, applied for baptism, and received the rite before their depart- ure. Thus, against all discouragements, the work went on. Thev had acquired the language, a grammer and dictionary were com- ADONIRAM JUDSON. 205 piled, the Gospel of Matthew and some tracts had been printed, the Epistle to the Ephesians was translated, public worship established, and in the face of the royal frown ten persons had made an open profession of Christianity. After about six months' residence in Bengal, the missionaries returned to Eangoon in January, 1821. They were joyfully welcomed by the disciples, who, though without the regular means of grace, and dispersed through fear of petty officers, had continued steadfast in the faith, and another was added to their number in March. The improvement in Mrs. Judson's health was transient, and in the summer of 1821 she visited America, where she spent about a year. The voyage was undertaken alone, as Mr. Judson felt that in the present state of his work he could not leave Rangoon. By the publication of a history of the mission, and her personal appeals, she deepened the public interest for its furtherance, and in her return was accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Wade, appointed to reinforce them. During her absence Mr. Judson, besides forwarding the translation of the New-Testament, had gathered several converts, making the whole number eighteen. The arrival of Dr. Price, who joined the mission soon after Mrs. Judson's departure, led to another visit to the capital, the king having heard of his medical skill, and ordered him to report himself immediately at court. Mr. Jud- son accompanied him, with the hope of making a more favourable impression respecting his missionary labours. For some time no notice was taken of him, except as interpreter to Dr. Price, who received very kind attention. After three days' atendance at the palace, his majesty condescended to ask some questions about his religion, and put the alarming interrogatory whether any had embraced it. The evasive answer, "Not here," would not do. "Are there any at Rangoon?" "There are a few." "Are they Burmans or foreigners?" The truth must out. "There are some Burmans and some foreigners." The king showed no displeasure, but calmly continued the conversation. By some of the ministers and officers in the court Mr. Judson was treated with much consideration, and the claims of Christianity were freely and candidly discussed. The king was pleased to direct that the missionaries should remain at Ava,* and land was given * The capital had been removed from Amarapoora to Ava, wliere it has since continued. 206 ADONIRAM JUDSON. tliem for the erection of dwellings. These arrangements having been made, Mr. Judson returned to Eangoon. Here he completed the translation of the New-Testament, and composed an epitome of the Old, to serve the converts till the entire Scriptures could be put into their hands. On the 5th of December, 1823, he welcomed Mrs. Judson and Mr. and Mrs. Wade, and immediately removed with his wife to Ava, "not knowing the things that should befall them there," leavino; Mr. Houo-h with the new missionaries at Eangoon. For a little time he preached in the imperial city, but the work was suddenly arrested, and the persons of the missionaries placed in great peril, by the commencement of a war with the British East Indian government. Mrs. Judson had been warned of the probability of such an event on her arrival at Calcutta from the United States, but disregarded the advice of her friends to forbear returning to Burmah. The storm burst sooner than had been anticipated. The encroach- ments of the Burmans on the terrritories of the East India Company had been long complained of, but the king, with ignorant vanity, attributed the remonstrances of the English to fear. He collected an army to invade Bengal, with instructions to bring the governor- general in golden fetters to Ava! The English resolved to antici- pate his movements, and in May, 1824, a force of six thousand men, under command of Sir Archibald Campbell, attacked Rangoon. The viceroy forthwith ordered the arrest of every person in town "who wore a hat." Messrs. Hough and Wade were seized, and con- demned to instant death, but were reprieved, and after much suffer- ing were released by the English. They then removed with all speed to Bengal, where Mr. Wade pursued the study of the language, and put to press Mr. Judson's Burman dictionary, a work of modest pretensions, but of no little utility. For two years no information was received of the fate of the missionaries at Ava. Whether they were murdered at the first out- break of hostilities, or worn out by slower tortures, or still lingered in captivity, could not be conjectured. The suspense was almost intolerable. And when the silence was broken by tidings of their safety, the general joy was mingled with inexpressible sympathy, at the recital of sufferings more dreadful than the pains of death, .visited upon their devoted heads. The intelligence that Rangoon was taken caused a great sensation at Ava, but it was regarded as a mere surprise. The only fear ADONIRAM JUDSON. 207 expressed was, that tlie English would run away before they could be sufficientlj chastised. Their continued advance toward the capi- tal excited a strange fear, and the king began to suspect that there were spies in the country, by whom his movements were communi- cated to the enemy. Some English merchants were seized, and cast into prison, it appearing that tney had received early intimation of the probability of a war. The examination of their papers disclosed the fact that one of them had paid the missionaries large sums of money. Ignorant of the principles of exchange, this mode of receiving remittances from America was regarded as proof that they were connected with the enemy ; the money was of course received from the British government for services rendered. Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were arrested, hurried to prison, heavily ironed, and sub- jected to sufferings and privations which words are inadequate to describe. Their houses were searched and their property confiscated, but Mrs. Judson succeeded in concealing a quantity of silver, and prevailed on the officers to spare her a few articles of farniture. Month after month passed by, and this heroic woman, without any earthly protector, exhausted every contrivance and all means of influence to obtain the release of the prisoners. She appealed to the officers of government, to the jailer, to the ladies of the court; valuable presents were extorted and evasive promises made, but all was of no avail, except to keep alive her hopes and prevent her from sinking into absolute despair. The only mitigation she could gain was the temporary removal of her husband from the poisoned air of a crowded dungeon to a little bamboo apartment in the prison - yard, where she ministered to his necessities, and alleviated his sufferings. The prisoners were not supplied with food by their jailors, and were only saved from starvation by her unremitting care. Though residing two miles from the jail, she went daily on foot to learn their wants and devise means to supply them. The future was all dark. "The acme of my distress," she wrote, "consisted iu the awful uncertainty of our final fate. My prevailing opinion was, that my husband would suffer violent death; and that I should of course become a slave, and languish out a miserable, though short existence, in the tyrannic hands of some unfeeling monster." All her faculties were concentrated in the contemplation of their present and possible misery. " Sometimes, for a moment or two, my thoughts would glance toward America and my beloved friends there, — but for nearly a year and a half, soentircl}'' engrossed was everv thought 208 ADONIRAM JUDSON. with present scenes and sufferings, that I seldom reflected on a sin- gle occurrence of mj former life, or recollected that I had a friend in existence out of Ava." Worse was to come. The wretched prisoners, at the commence- ment of the hot season, were loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the inner prison. The heat and oppressive atmosphere of the dungeon were too great for endurance, Mr. Judson was attacked with fever, and must have looked for death as a welcome relief from his tortures. His wife, driven near to desparation, forced her way to the presence of the governor, who had forbidden her admission. The old man wept at her impassioned remonstrance. "I knew you would make me feel," said he; "therefore I forbade your application." He declared that he had been repeatedly ordered to execute the prisoners secretly, which he had refused to do, but that he could not mitigate the severity with which they were treated, and must not be asked to. That she might at all events be near her husband, and know the worst, she occupied a low bamboo hut in the governor's enclosure, near the prison-gate, and by incessant application at last gained an order for his removal there. This relief was transient. Only three days afterward the prisoners were ordered from Ava. The governor, anxious to spare Mrs. Jud- son the dreadful sight, sent for her, and detained her in conversation till it was past. Mr. Judson was stripped of nearly all his clothing, and with his fellow-sufferers was driven on foot towards the "death prison" of Oung-pen-la, four miles from Amarapoora. The sun was insupportably hot, he was without hat or shoes, and his feet were blistered by the burning sand till the skin was worn off. Had it not been for the humanity of the Bengali servant of an English prisoner, who tore in two his own head-dress to wrap his bleeding feet, (with the other half doing the like service for his master,) and then bore him on his shoulders, he must have fallen dead by the way. This fate actually overtook one of their number, at which the officer in charge halted for the night. The wretch had a wife, who took compassion on his victims, and sent them some refreshments. As further progress on foot was out of the question, the rest of the journey was performed in carts. Mrs, Judson, meanwhile, ignorant of their destination, ran from street to street to find some trace of them. The governor finally told her they were removed to Amarapoora. "I can do nothing for your husband," he said; "take care of yourself." Regardless of ADONIRAM JUDS017. 2Q9 herself, she obtained a passport, and with her infant child, born in the midst of these overwhelming sorrows, and a faithful Bengali servant, pursued her desolate way down the river, and at night-fall found herself in her husband's presence. Half dead with the tortures of their march, the manacled prisoners were huddled together under a narrow projection of a dilapidated hovel, without a roof or any other sufficient shelter. Men were busy trying to form a partial covering of leaves. "Why have you come?" Mr. Judson sadly asked; "you cannot live here." With much difficulty she succeeded in obtaining a shelter, such as it was, in the dwelling of the jailor. The next morning Mary Hassel- tine, a Burman girl ado})ted by Mrs. Judson, was taken with the small-pox, and required all the attention she could spare from her husband, who, between his fever and his mangled feet, was for several days unable to move. She immediately inoculated the infant, knowing the infection could not be escaped, but the precaution was ineffectual, and the little one soon had the disease it its unmitigated form, from which it only recovered after three months' sickness. Anxiety and toil now prostrated the mother. She had just strength to go to Ava, and bring their medicine chest, which had been left behind in her flight, and when she returned to the jailer's hut at Oung-pen-la, fainted upon her mat, from which she rose not for two months. In this extremity, unable to give nourishment to her babe, or to procure a nurse, the jailer was bribed to release Mr. Judson from close confinement, who daily bore the starving child round the village, appealing to the charity of such Burman mothers as had young children, to give it sustenance. Thus they awaited the sen- tence of death appointed to be executed, they knew not when, upon all the prisoners. But their doom was suddenly arrested. The officer, by whose advice the sentence was passed, had proposed to sacrifice them on occasion of taking command against the English; before his pur- pose was carried into effect, he was disgraced, and executed for trea- son. The English forces were much retarded by the difficulties of their march and the scarcity of forage, but had annihilated army after army sent to resist them, and were steadily advancing on the capital. The king discovered that he was not invincible. Orders came for the return of the prisoners to Ava, and Mr. Judson wa.s hurried off to the English camp, as translator and interpreter to an embassy for peace. The negotiation was a tedious one, and during 14 210 • ADONIRAM JUDSON. the months that its slow length trailed between the English head- quarters and the capital, Mrs. Judson was brought so low bj a vio- lent fever, peculiar to the countr}^, that her life for the time was despaired of Once and again the treaty was broken off through the revulsion of the king from the humiliating conditions imposed upon him. But the certainty that the " white foreigners " would soon be in the "golden city" unless their demands were complied with, tamed his impotent pride. With a very bad grace he agreed to pay a large pecuniary indemnity, and to cede Arracan and the Tenasse- rim provinces to the English, stripping himself of the chief portion of his sea-coast. He also stipulated that the missionaries might retire in safety to the British provinces, a step which they were quite ready to take, after their unimaginable sufferings under his author- ity. They were solicited, indeed — for the negotiation had taught the king to value their services — to continue at the court, and assured that they should become "great men." Dr. Price, con- fident that his medical character would secure his personal safety, remained at Ava to carry forward the mission. He gathered a school, including many young men of rank, and preached regularly to a small congregation. His prospects seemed bright, but pulmo- nary consumption cut him down while the fruits of his ministry were yet immature. His associates gladly turned away from Ava, the one to pursue his life's task among the Burmans under British protection, the other to rest in a premature grave from sufferings that had knit them together by no common ties of sympathy, and added a new page to the history of female heroism. The little flock of disciples at Rangoon was scattered, and several of them were dead. The survivors removed with their teachers, in the summer of 1826, to Amherst, a new town, near the mouth of the Salwen, in British Burmah. Here Mr. Judson hoped to devote himself unreservedly to missionary work. But at the solicitation of Mr. Crawfurd, commissioner of the British East Indian govern- ment, he accompanied an embassy to Ava for negotiating a commer- cial treaty, to procure, if possible, the insertion of a guaranty for religious freedom in the king's dominions. This, which alone recon- ciled him to so long an absence from his chosen work, and from a home that claimed his presence more imperatively than he conceived, entirely failed, and after several months' detention he returned to Amherst, — to find his house desolate. Mrs. Judson, very soon AD ON IRA M JUDSON. 211 after liis departure, had been seized with a fever that her enfeebled constitution was ill-fitted to resist, and sunk into the grave after an illness of eighteen days. The dreadful tidings were conveyed to him at Ava, — the more insupportable because he was wholly unpre- pared for them, his last intelligence having assured him of her per- fect health. From the native Christians who surrounded her death- bed, and the physician, who did all that skill could do for her recovery, he heard of the celestial peace that sustained her depart- ing spirit. His only child soon followed her mother, and he was left a solitary mourner. His cup of sorrow seemed full. The heart which had sustained all that barbarian cruelty could inflict, was well-nigh crushed by this total bereavement. Though the life of Mrs. Judson was, as it seemed, prematurely closed, it was long enough to exhibit a character which, in some of its elements, has no parallel in female biography. Capacities for exertion and endurance, such as few men have brought to great enterprises, were united to the most engaging feminine qualities, fitting her at once to cheer the domestic retirement of her husband, and to share his most overwhelming trials and dangers. The record of her deeds and sufferings has moved the hearts of myriads in this and other lands, and her memory is immortal as the sympathies of our common humanity. But the bereaved missionary sank not in inconsolable grief. Looking to the eternal hills for help, he nerved himself anew to the fulfilment of his appointed ministry. Mr. and Mrs. Wade had reached Amherst shortly before the return of Mr. Judson from Ava, and with them Rev. George D. Boardman and wife, who had arrived in Bengal during the war. Besides the original population of Brit- ish Burmah, the provinces were the resort of constant emigration, and Amherst grew rapidly into a considerable town. But the govern- ment was soon transferred to Maulmain, on the east bank of the Salwen, about twenty-five miles from its mouth. The mission fol- lowed in the course of the 3'ear 1827, and has since been permanently established in that city. There the work went rapidly forward. Schools were set up, two or three houses of worship were opened, and during the years 1827 and 1828, between thirty and forty converts were added to the church. The Tavoy station was commenced b}^ Mr. Boardman, under whose auspices Christianity began to be communicated to the Karens, among whom it has since made such progress as to astonish 212 ADONIRAM JUDSON. the Cliristian world. Dr.* Judson continued at Maulmain till the summer of 1830. Besides the ordinary duties of preaching and teaching, he thoroughly revised the New-Testament, and prepared twelve smaller works in Burmese. In the spring of 1830, Mr. Wade visited Eangoon, the success of a native preacher having made the presence of a missionary desirable. His health did not admit of a residence in that climate, and Dr. Judson, who had not ceased to cherish a deep interest in the progress of Christianity in Burmah Proper, repaired thither in May. He found a prevalent spirit of inquiry, and resolved to penetrate into the interior. He accordingly went up the Irrawadi to Prome. His boat at every landing was visited by persons eager for books. Converts whom he had lost sight of for years greeted him at one or two places as he passed, and he heard of the conversion of others whom he had never seen, but who had derived their knowledge of the truth indi- rectly from his instructions. For a month or two he had numerous auditors, a few of whom seemed to have cordially received the word. Then came a sudden and mysterious reaction. The zayat was nearly deserted. People seemed afraid to converse with him. This state of things continuing till autumn, he regarded his work in Prome as finished for the present, and returned to Rangoon, confident that the now rejected truth would bear fruit in due season. It appeared that the king had given orders for his expulsion, but that the governor, under the influence of some unaccountable awe of him, had not ventured to execute them. At Rangoon he gave himself to the translation of the entire Scriptures. He shut himself into an upper chamber, leaving a native evangelist to receive inquirers, admitting only the most prom- ising to his own apartment. In spite of the known displeasure of the king, nearly half his time was absorbed in these interviews. The spirit of inquiry deepened and widened -through all the sur- rounding country. During the great festival in honour of Gaudama, held near the close of the following winter, there were as man}' as six thousand applications at his house for tracts. Some came from the borders of Siam or the far north, saying, "Sir, we have seen a writing that tells about an eternal God. Are you the man that * The. degree of Doctor in Divinity was conferred on Mr. Judson by Brown University in 1823. He subsequently declined the title, but its application to him was continued, and during tne Inter years of his life was silently acquiesced in, though he never retracted his original declination. ADONIRAM JUDSON. 213 gives away such writings? Pray, give us one, for we want to know the truth before we die." Or some from the interior, who had barely heard the name of the Saviour, would say, "Are you Jesus Christ's man? Give us a writing that tells about Jesus Christ." The press at Maul- main worked day and night, but could not meet the demands from all quarters. In the summer of 1831, in consequence of the infirm state of Mr. Wade's health, he removed to Maulmain, and Mr. Wade, after a few months' respite, took his place at Eangoon. At Maulmain Dr. Jud- son prosecuted the work of translation, but still preached in the city and the jungles. On the last day of January, 1834, he com- pleted the task with which he might have rejoiced to seal up his earthly mission, — the Bible in the Burmese language. No words can more fitly describe the emotions of that hour than his own: "Thanks 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 labours in this department, and his aid in removing 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." Few, comparatively, of the myriads in whose behalf the great work was undertaken, had a thought of the sublime transaction of that hour, and none but he to whose supreme glory it was dedicated, could fully apprehend the ultimate issues of the event. The kneeling missionary alone, with the last leaf of the translated Bible, humbly and gratefully offering it before the Divine Majesty, has been suggested as a sub- iect for the pencil. But he must be an artist elevated to more than a common measure of celestial sympathy, who shall worthily repre- sent to our senses a triumph so purely spiritual. In April of this year Dr. Judson was united in marriage with Mrs. Boardman; who, after the lamented death of her husband, had given herself with unyielding devotion to the blessed work in which he so triumphantly passed away, and through all her mis- sionary career showed a spirit nearly kindred to that of the "minis- tering angel" to the prisoners of Ava. For some years he was engaged in the revision of the Scriptures, 214 AD ON I RAM JUDSON. dividing his time between this and the superintendence of the native church at Maulmain. The steady increase of the churches in num- bers and in knowledge was an ample reward for all his toils, while the reinforcement of the missions, and their extension into Siam and Assam, filled him with gladness in the prospect of the future. The arrival of fourteen missionaries in 1836, accompanied by Rev. Dr. Malcom, who was commissioned by the Board to visit their stations in Asia, was an occasion of special joy. The conferences held, the plans devised, the recollections and hopes awakened at this season, must have made it memorable to them all. Since the lonely pio- neer landed in doubt and apprehension at Rangoon, more than twenty years of labour and suffering had passed over his head. Not one witness of his earlier struggles, not one sharer of his many fears and sorrows and of their precious compensations, stood by his side. But a host, comparatively, had succeeded, to carry forward by their united strength the work begun in weakness, and not less than a thousand souls redeemed from the bondage of idolatry attested the divine presence and benediction. In 1838 his enfeebled health compelled a change of air, and he visited Bengal. But the ardour of his spirit drove him back to his station without any visible change for the better. The Board invited him to visit the United States, which he gratefully but firmly declined. The revision of the Scriptures was finished in 18-40, and a second edition was put to press. A recent writer in the Calcutta Review, understood to be well qualified to pass judgment in this matter, hazards '"the prediction, that as Luther's Bible is now in the hands of Protestant Germany, so, three centuries hence, Judson's Bible will be the Bible of the Christian churches of Burmah." In the summer of 18-41 he found it needful, for the sake of his family and himself, to make another voyage. They went to Bengal, where he was compelled to bury his youngest child, proceeded to the Isle of France, and thence i-eturned to Maulmain, where they arrived, much invigorated, in December. The next year saw him engaged in another important undertak- ing,— the compilation of a complete dictionary of the Burmese language. He was reluctant to be diverted from his ministerial labours by any further literary tasks, but yielded to the solicitation of the Board, and to a conviction of the importance of the work. His. plan contemplated two complete vocabularies — Burmese and English, and English and Burmese. It was interrupted by the illness ADONIRAM JUDSON. 215 of Mrs. Judson. A voyage along tlie Tenasserim coast proved inef- fectual for her recovery, and in the spring of 1845 her helpless state appeared to demand a visit to the United States. In announcing this purpose Dr. Judson warned the Board that he must not be expected to address public assemblies, as the weakness of his lungs forbade such exertion, and for a reason which shall be stated in his own words: "In order to become an acceptable and eloquent preacher in a foreign language, I deliberately abjured my own. When I crossed the river, I burnt my ships. — From long desuetude. I can scarcely put three sentences together in the English language."- Taking with him his family, and two native assistants to carry for- ward his dictionary during his visit, he embarked for Boston on the 26th of April. On arriving at Mauritius, Mrs. Judson was so far revived that it was thought she might safely proceed without her husband. The assistants were sent back, and he was about to follow them, but the day before her reembarkation she suffered a relapse, which determined him to go on with her. She grew weaker from day to day, and it seemed that she must find a grave in the deep, but her life was spared till they reached St. Helena. With an unclouded prospect of the heavenly felicity, her soul parted serenely from earth and all earthly ties. Her mortal remains were commit- ted to the dust on the first of September, and the twice-widowed missionary tore himself away, to guide his motherless children to the land of their fathers. He arrived at Boston on the 15th of October. A thrill of solemn and grateful emotion was felt in every part of the land, and found expression in countless forms. On the evening of the third day after he landed, a large assembly was gathered, and the venerable Presi- dent of the Board, Bev. Dr. Sharp, addressed him in appropriate words of welcome. More touching was the hearty embrace of Bev. Samuel Nott, jr., from whom he had parted more than thirty years before; who had privately and publicly attested his unabated Chris- tian afi'ection since the change that caused their paths to diverge ; who heard, in his enforced retirement from missionary service, of the arrival of his youthful associate and honoured colleague, and had has- tened to greet him. Pressing through the congregation, he made himself known. Who can guess what thoughts of the past crowded their minds and subdued their hearts, at this unlooked-for meeting! * This was, of course, limited to speech, for through his whole life he wrote his native language in a style of great purity and force. 216 ADONIRAM JUDSON. Dr, Judson attended a special meeting of the Ba])tist General Con- vention, called together in consequence of the separation of the Southern churches, — his first interview with a body called into existence by his instrumentality, — and there received a more formal and memorable welcome. Though forbidden to speak in public, a proposition to abandon the Arracan mission drew from his lips a fervent protest, which, seconded by other missionaries present, deter- mined the Convention to retain all their stations in the east. By other public assemblies in the principal cities, he was received in a manner that told how deeply the story of his labours and sufferings had imprinted itself on the hearts of the people. Thus attracting to himself the affectionate sympathy of thousands, and kindling higher by his presence the flame of missionary zeal, refreshing his spirit by the amenities of friendship, and recalling the memories of youth by visiting its most cherished scenes, he continued in the land of his nativity till the 11th of July, 1816, when he once more set his face toward the field of his struggles and triumphs. He went not alone. A third gentle spirit gave her affections to soothe and her energies to sustain his soul, in the years of labour and suffering that awaited him.* This is not the place or the time to do honour to the living;- — may it be long before the pen shall be summoned to recall into memor}^ the departed! Several new missionaries accompanied them, and they arrived safely at Maulmain in December. A revolution having taken place in Burmah, Dr. Judson removed to Kangoou, the only city in the king's dominions where foreigners were permitted to reside. He found it impossible to do anything efficiently unless he could obtain some countenance at Ava, but having no means at his disposal to undertake the journey at that time, he was obliged to resign all hope in that quarter, and go back to Maulmain, and to his dictionary. Besides his literary tasks, he assumed the pastoral care of the Burman church, and preached once on a Sabbath. In these pursuits he continued with his wonted dili- gence, till disease laid its hand upon him in the autumn of 1849. f * Dr. Judson was married June 2, 1846, to Miss Emily Cliubbuck, of Utica, N. Y. f The English and Burmese Dictionary was finished, and has been printed. The Burmese and English Dictionary was considerably advanced, and the manuscripts h .ve been placed in the hands of one of his younger colleagues, Rev. E. A. Stevens, for completion. A DON IE AM JUDSON. 217 A severe cold in tlie month of September was followed by a fever that prostrated his strength. A voyage on the eoast and sea-bathing at Amherst failed to restore his wasted energies, and he returned to Maulmain in a declining state. His sufferings were extreme, but his mind was peaceful, and his habitual conversation was filled with the spirit of heaven. "The love of Christ " was his absorbing theme, and love to his brethren in Christ dwelt on his lips and breathed in his constant prayers. Though ready to depart, if so it should please God, he yet longed to do more for Burmah,- — to finish the wearisome toil of literary investigation, and spare a few 3'ears for the more delightful work of preaching to the heathen. For this his exhausted nature struggled to the last, and when all hope of recovery at Maul- main was lost, on the third of April, 1850, he bade farewell to his anxious companion, whose feeble health forbade her to accompany him, and with a single attendant set out on a voyage for the Isle of Bourbon. The passage down the river was slow, and he nearly sunk under the combined force of disease and the suffocating atmos- phere. Once upon the sea he revived, and the pilot-boat bore back a message full of hope. The relief was momentary. For three days he endured indescribable sufferings, that extorted from his lips the exclamation, "0 that I could die at once, and go directly to Paradise, where there is no pain !" To the question whether he felt the presence of the Saviour, he quickly replied, "0, yes; it is all right, there! I believe He gives me just so much pain and suffering as is necessary to fit me to die, — to make me submissive to his will." For the last day and a half his agonies were dreadful to behold. In this state he continued till a few minutes before the o-oinsr out of life. Then he was calm, and apparently free from pain. His last words were in remembrance of her from whom he had parted in so much uncertainty a few da3'S before, and a hurried direction for his burial. Then, gradually sinking, he "fell asleep" on the afternoon of April 12th, and his mortal remains were committed to the deep, thence to be raised incorruptible, when the sea shall give up its dead. Dr. Judson combined in his experience the toils and sufferings of a missionary pioneer, with the amplest rewards of missionary success. Often have men, in a spirit of heroic courage and constancy, strug- gled with the first, and departed without enjoying the last. But he who under cover of twilight baptized the first Burman convert, lived to see twenty-six churches gathered, with nearly five thousand com- 218 ADONIKAM Jl'DSOiN'. municants, the entire Bible in one vernacular, and the New-Testament in others; and the missions, by the aid of a regular native ministry, extending on every side. He was not required to look for the con- firmation of his faith to promise and prophecy alone, but was per- mitted to enjoy in his lifetime a fullness of success exceeding his fondest hopes. So long and fortunate a career developed and displayed a charac- ter, whose portraiture would have been incomplete had his term of service been more brief. Had the tortures of Ava and Oung-pen-la formed the tragic catastrophe of his life, instead of a discipline for continued action and final triumph, we should indeed have seen in him the patient and discriminating scholar, the unselfish philanthro- pist, the death-defying hero, with energy superior to all obstacles, constancy unshaken by reverses, fortitude immovable by extremest cruelty. But how attractively the stern features of his character were chastened by milder graces, — how much beauty mingled with his strength, how finely gentleness was interfused with courage, and humility with firmness, — what depths of sensibility lay beneath heights of more than stoical endurance, — what soundness of judg- ment was united with ready impulse and imaginative ardour, — and how solidly his manly enterprise was founded on the elements of a child-like piety, and guided by aspirations after holiness that kept his eye ever on his divine Master and Example, — these might have remained unknown till the last day should reveal them. Happily for him and for mankind, it was otherwise ordered. Peace set- tled upon his pathway, which declined gently to the brink of tlie deep that hid him from mortal sight. The furnace of afQiction seemed heated for him seven-fold, but the flame only purified his sterling nature. Clouds gathered darkly about his prime, but tlie sun broke through and transfigured them all, to add splendour to the descending day. The night brought no darkness for him. Though beyond our visible horizon, He is not lost, — he hath not passea away, — Clouds, earths, may pass, — but stars shine calmly on; And he who doth the will of God, for aye Abideth, when the earth and heaven are gone. GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. L Those wlicX were contemporary with the early history of the Bur- man Mission, will not forget the interest with which tne churches engaged in its support, hailed the accession to it of Wti young men of BostonJof ardent piety, warm Christian zeal, and great promise of usefulness, /nor the universal sorrow which pervaded those churches at the intelligence of tfi^ untimely deathj Wheelock, sinking in consumption, while on a voyage to Bengal in hope of receiving some benefit from the change of air, in a paroxysm of delirium threw himself overboard, and perished. (Colman was de- tached from Rangoon, to establish a station in Chittagong, a British province adjacent to the Burman empire. Within a few short months of his entering upon this enterprise, a fever incident to a sickly clime, in a moment prostrated all the hopes that hung upon it. ''Colman is gone," was the mournful echo which pierced many hearts in America: among whom was a young man of talents and promise, who had, to human eyes, just entered upon a career of honourable usefulness, as an officer and instructor in Waterville College, Maine. He heard the sorrowful tidings of the bereavement of that cherished mission: he heard the call, "Whom shall we send, and who will go for us?" — and promptly, and from his heart, he responded, '"'' Here am i, — send meJ^\ George Dana BoARDMANJson of Rev. Sylvan us Boardman,Vwas born in Livermore, Me., February 8, 1801. ; His opportunities for intellectual improvement were limited, until 1810, when his parents i-emoved to North Yarmouth. In the academy at this place he made ]-apid progress in study. As early as at twelve years of age, he had resolved upon a collegiate education. In 1816, he was placed for a time in the academy in Farmington, where he distinguished him- self by his proficiency in every branch of study, and secured for himself the respect and confidence of his preceptor, which he ever afterwards retained. [} 220 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN". "From a cliild, " says his father, "he professed strong passions, but not turbulent; was fond of pleasure, but more fond of books., His health, after the age of three or four years, was generally good, and, till after his close application to study, he bid fair to be very strong and athletic; but after the age of about fifteen, he grew tall, spare, and delicate." In his sixteenth year he commenced teaching, which he pursued for several years with much success, in connection with his academic studies. In May, 1819, he entered the Waterville Seminary, (which about one year later was incorporated as a College) at which, in 1822, he was graduated, and immediatelyappointed tutor. When young Boardman entered upon his studies at Waterville, he was regarded as a youth of promising talents, amiable in his character, ambitious in his feeling, of high aims and purposes, but of none looking beyond worldly distinction. In the first year of his residence there, all his aims received a new direction by his con- version. The progress of his convictions may be seen in the follow- ing brief extracts from his journal : "At this time my attachment to Christians became more ardent. While I witnessed their devotions, I longed to fall on my knees, and pour out my heart with them in prayer. Soon after, I became oppressed with fear lest I should be a hypocrite. * * * Christians began to speak to me in encouraging terms. But the efiect was only to increase my distress, as I now thought that I had deceived them. I resolved never to hope until I had reason to hope, and until I could even say, / know that my Redeemer liveih. I now felt the keenest distress, for I was, in my own estimation, a hypocrite, and a most heinous sinner. * * * At length, a person whose piety I could not doubt, related to me his Christian experience. I traced the progress of his exercises, and wondered at the apparent simi- larity of his experience and my own. Still I expected to hear him speak of some more wonderful manifestations of divine things, of more deep convictions, and the like. And when he came to the time when he obtained hope, 'What!' thought I, 'is this a Christian experience?' I have felt nearly all which he has expressed." — Mr. Boardman's journal and correspondence after this period, however, indicate a high degree of religious enjoyment, and a rapid progress in religious development. Soon after his profession of religion, (which he made in July, 1820,) he writes in reference to it: — "An awful sense of my total unv/orthiness would have restrained my GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 221 Steps, had not the voice of duty called me to go forward. Encour- aged by the word of the Saviour in whom I trust, I cheerfullj^ submitted to the ordinance of baptism. In the afternoon I sat down, un worth J'- as I am, at the table of the Lord. I never experienced such a season before. The love of Christ appeared truly incompre- hensible. My heart throbbed with jo}"-, while my eyes were suffused with tears. Since that time, I have, in general, enjoj'ed a sweet composure of mind, till yesterday, when the discourse from the pul- pit became so deeply interesting that I almost fimcied myself disem- bodied from the flesh, and desired to depart and to be with Christ." Yet we do not always find him in the same ecstatic state of mind. Clouds sometimes obscured his spiritual prospects, and the sense of indwelling corruption, which is really an index of the indwelling spirit, awakened in him acute sorrow of heart. The germ of that ministerial and missionary activitj^, which formed the marked trait of Mr. Boardman's subsequent life, devel- oped itself at college, immediately upon his conversion. During his residence at Waterville, his labours for the spiritual good of the surrounding population were assiduous. The feeling which pos- sessed him from the day of his conversion was, that he belonged to Christ, and his earliest and constant prayer was, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" His great desire was to be personally and directly iiseful to the souls of men. His thoughts were early directed to the work of the ministry, upon which they lingered with much ardour, as a most excellent and desirable work, while yet he instinct- ively shrank from it, as one for which he feared he was utterly unfit. And as he could not withdraw his mind from this sphere of Chris- tian effort, he allowed himself to contemplate the possibility of his labouring for the spiritual good of the scattered population of fron- tier settlements, which he flattered himself he might do, without being specially recognised as a minister of the gospel. But before he had reached the close of his college course, his mind became set- tled in the conviction that God had called him to preach the gospel, and to this work he solemnly devoted his life. From the time that Mr. Boardman decided to become a preacher, he longed to be a missionary to the heathen. Ever after his conver- sion, this was a subject of great interest to him. At first, his mind was directed to the North American Indians. Afterwards he wavered between a mission to the west and one to the east. And so decidedly was his heart set upon personal missionary work, that 222 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. Avlien graduated he could barely be persuaded, b}^ tlie earnest soli- citations of the friends of the college, to postpone his purpose, and serve them one year as tutor, though, to induce his acceptance, they pledged him a professorship, and indeed contemplated, (probably without intimating it to him,) his ultimate elevation to the presi- dency of the college. But no prospect of literary preferment, however honourable to him as a scholar and a Christian, could shake his earnest desire and purpose of being actively and personally engaged for the salvation of the heathen. After he had accepted the tutorship for a year, he remarked, "I now calculate upon a year of misery;" and he wrote subsequently, "I can think of no station of ease, or emolument, or honour, with which I could be satisfied. There is not a situation, either civil or ecclesiastical, in America, which presents to my mind any temptation. My whole soul is engrossed with the desire to be preaching to the heathen the unsearchable riches of Christ." As has been before intimated, his attention was first directed to the Burman mission by the sad intelligence of the death of Rev. James Colman, which reached him soon after he entered upon his duties as tutor. "I knew," he afterwards wrote, "that Arracan was a most inviting field for missionary labour, and Colman seemed exactly suited to occupy the place. But, alas! he is very suddenly cut off in the very beginning of his career. Who will go to fill his place? I'll go! This question and answer occurred to me in suc- cession, as suddenly as the twinkling of an eye. From that moment my attention became principally directed to the Burman mission, from which it has never since been diverted. After a painful and patient scrutiny of the motives which influ- enced him in his desires, deliberate consultation with judicious Christian friends, as well as his own family connections, with much prayer for divine direction, he came to a fixed conclusion that it was his duty to become a missionary to the East, and in the spring of 1823 offered himself to the Baptist Board. In his note of it he remarks, "In my offer I said I was willing to be sent whithersoever the Board should direct, though for som^e reasons I had a predilec- tion for being sent to China, Palestine or Burmah. The Board accepted my offer, and in a few days gave me an appointment to Burmah. There may I live, labour, and die!" By the direction of the Board he left Waterville in June, 1823, and entered upon a course of Theological study in Andover Seminary, where he GEORCxE DANA BOARDMAN. 223 remained till about tlie time of his ordination, which he received at North Yarmouth, Me., Feb. 16, 1825. Soon after Mr. Boardman had decided to become a missionary, he became acquainted with Miss Sarah B. Hall, of Salem, Mass., a young lady agreeable in person and manners, of ardent and active piety, of superior talents and literary taste, and of a good education, which she had acquired by her own energy and perseverance, agahist obstacles which, to an ordinary spirit, would have been insurmount- able. Eefined, gentle, and affectionate, yet of a strong, energetic spirit, she seemed to possess every quality desirable in the wife of a devoted missionary. Her heart was set upon missionary life, before she knew any thing of him to whom she was afterwards united ; and it is a coincidence worthy of notice, that her first aspirations were to labour among the North American Indians, and that after- wards the tidings of Colman's untimely death struck a trembling chord in her breast ; so that when they met, she was prepared to enter at once into his views and share his labours. Faithfully and devotedly, as a wife, a mother, and a spiritual guide to the benighted of her own sex upon heathen ground, she filled up her day of patient toil. In scenes of trial — of personal peril, of domestic affliction, as well as in the more quiet and laborious details of a missionary's home and a missionary life, she proved herself a noble and beautiful specimen of a Christian woman; and the rock of St. Helena will be enshrined in many Christian hearts, as the spot where rests till the morning of the resurrection, the mortal form of Boardman's widow, the second Mrs. Judson. A fit hand has given the world a fit memorial of this most estimable and lamented missionary. Mr. Boardman and Miss Hall were married July 4, 1825, and immediately bidding a last farewell to their friends in New Eng- land, they set out for Philadelphia, whence, on the 16th of the same month, they sailed for Calcutta. On the 2d of December following they landed, after a pleasant, but somev.-hat protracted voyage. The war at that time raging between the English and Burmese governments, had broken up all missionary labour in Burmah. Messrs. Hough and Wade, with their wives, after a narrow escape from expected violent death, had retired from Eangoon to Calcutta; while Mr. and Mrs. Judson were enduring horrors, then unimagincd by their friends, and now scarcely imaginable, at Ava. Under thes'- circumstances they had no alternative but to remain, for the presciit. 224 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. ill Bengal. They therefore immediately joined Mr. Wade's family at Chitpore, a village near Calcutta, and subsequently took up their residence in town. Here they assiduously devoted themselves, as their first and most necessary employment, to the attainment of the Burrnan language. They had the assistance of their associates, who had made some proficiency in it, as well as the more indispensable aid of a native teacher. This, however, did not prevent Mr. Boardman's making himself otherwise useful, so far as was consistent with the pursuit of his primary object. He and Mr. Wade alternately supplied the Circular Road Chapel during Mr. Wade's stay in Calcutta; and after his departure at the close of the war, Mr. Boardman, in com- pliance with a pressing request from that church and the Calcutta mission generally, and with the concurrence of the other members of the Burman mission, remained with it several months longer, until some plan of operations should be so far matured as to require his presence in Burinah. Their stay in Calcutta of fifteen months seems to have been pleasant to them, and perhaps not more unprofit- able, in its bearings upon their future usefulness, than if they had at once proceeded to Burmah. Mrs. Boardman, in January, 1827, writes to a friend: "Since I bade adieu to my native land, the events which have transpired in relation to me, have been one series of mercies. I am blessed with excellent health, a most affectionate husband, a lovely daughter, and every thing in my outward cir- cumstances to make me happy. I can indeed say, my cup runneth over. But when I think of my spiritual privileges, I am still more overwhelmed. Among these, the near prospect of being actually engaged in the glorious cause of missions is not the least." Mr. Boardman also writes, "We are extremely happ}'- in our new place, and in each other." In April, 1827, Mr. Boardman joined the station at Amherjst. They found the mission a scene of sorrow. Mrs. Judson had, a few months before, sunk into the grave. Mr. Boardman's first work in Amherst, was to construct a coffin for little Maria Butterworth, whose first cradle was among the chains of the Ava prison, and lay her by her mother's side. His own family was afflicted with severe illness; Mrs. Boardman having been attacked, within two daj'-s after her arrival, by the disease which made her an invalid for many years, and which finally, after a long interval of health, brought her to the grave. Their little daughter, Sarah, was even more a sufferer GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 225 than she. Thus in sorrow, Board man commenced his missionary career, and from sorrow he was never for any long period exempt, during its continuance. The growing importance of Mauhnain, the new seat of govern- ment, made it also an important point for the establisment of a missionary station, and Mr. Boardman was selected hy his associates for this purpose. In the latter part of May he left Amherst, his wife being still so feeble as to be obliged to be carried in a litter to the boat which bore them to their new home. The English gov- ernor verj^ readily presented him with a lot of land sufficiently large to accommodate the mission, upon which he erected a small bamboo cottage, and began the work of preaching to the natives. The hopes which he had so ardently cherished for years, seemed now about to be realized. He writes about this time: "Although our prospects are not so settled as we could wish, yet my dear com- panion and myself feel more than we have ever felt, that we have reached the scene of our future labours. After nearly two years of wanderings without any certain dwelling place, we have become inhabitants of a little spot which we call our earthly home. Our happiness increases in our new habitation." Mrs. Boardman writes a few days later: "We are in excellent health, and as happy as it is possible for mortals to be. It is our earnest desire to live, and labour, and die, among this people." Their happiness was soon after interrupted by one of those start- ling episodes to which missionary life, in a semi-barbarous or unsettled country, is sometimes incident. Their house stood about a mile from the English cantonments, in a beautiful, but lonely spot, on the bank of the Salwen, directly opposite Martaban, a partially deserted town in the Burman territory, the resort of nocturnal marauders and banditti who prowled through the neighbouring vil- lages, plundering houses, and not unfrequently adding murder to robbery. The English governor, apprehensive of danger in so lonely a spot, had kindly offered them a site for a house within the cantonments. They, however, felt it their duty to decline the offer, as such an arrangement would have cut off nearly all their inter- course with the Burmans. So, by no means unaware of the dan- gers by which they were surrounded, in hope of more successfully prosecuting their work, they ventured to live alone, in a house so frail in its construction that, (to use Mrs. Boardman 's words) "it could be cut open any where with a pair of scissors," in the 15 226 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. midst of a desolate wood, and at some distance from even a Burman neighbour. \The governor's apprehensions^ proved but too well-founded. Within a month of their arrival^ their house was entered at night, and plundered of every thing of value which it contained. They awoke in the morning, and found every trunk, box and drawer, opened and rifled. So stealthily had the marauders effected their purpose, that the lone and unprotected family were not even dis- turbed in their slumber. Such a morning scene, taken as a whole, was well adapted to awaken the consternation which they felt; but a single feature in it chilled them with horror, two large cuts through the muslin which curtained their bed, the one at the head, the other . at the foot of the place where Mr. Boardman slept! Through these had murderous eyes peered upon them, watching while the rest of the party secured the booty! The quietness of their slumber saved A their lives. [ After the robbery they were furnished by the governor il ^ with a guard of sepoys for a time, and the rapid settlement of the vicinity soon rendered their situation comparatively secure. In the midst of these perilous circumstances, other things of a different character served greatly to encourage them. The prospects of the mission were brightening, and the number of visitors who, from one motive or another, came to inquire concerning the new religion, increased daily. Mr. Boardman writes in his journal in August: "I have been employed to-day in declaring to a company of Burmans and Talings, the unsearchable riches of Christ. They do not dispute, but inquire. They waited and conversed to-day till I was completely exhausted, and could say no more. A spirit of inquiry seems to have been excited to a considerable extent. Many who have visited us, and heard the word, wish to come again, and obtain a more perfect knowledge of it." A school for boys, and another for girls, occupied daily a portion of their attention, in addi- tion to the regular service of the Sabbath and daily conversation with visitors. In October following, it was decided by the members of the mis- sion to abandon Amherst, and concentrate their force at Maulmain. The growing importance of this place as the civil and commercial metropolis of British Burmah, unmistakably marked it as the spot for the central station ; and from this time it became the radiating point of all the Christianizing influences connected with the Bur- man mission. Manj' of tlie Christian fimilies accompanied the GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 227 missionaries from Amherst, including the female school of Mrs. Wade, which having been united to that of Mrs. Boardman, the combined school was prosecuted with very encouraging success, under the charge of both these ladies. In connection with Messrs. Judson and Wade, Mr. Boardman continued to prosecute with increased pleasure and encouragement, the labours v/hich, as the pioneer of this important station, he had commenced alone. It is interesting to observe in his correspondence and journal about this time, the evidence that God was deepening the work of grace in his heart, and thus preparing him, not only for the early- death to which he was destined, but also for the important work which was to occupy the remaining years of his life, as the pioneer labourer in another station, and in one of the most interesting and successful missions of modern times. In his journal early in 1828, he thus writes:- — "An important defect in any Christian character consists in hot aiming at sufficiently high attainments in holiness. I am fully convinced that, as a creature of God, I owe him my all, every thing I am, or can be, or can do; and when I also consider that I am a redeemed creature, my obligations seem increased a thou- sand fold. And yet I hesitate to live — rather to try to live — as holy as I possibly can the rest of my days! Why do I not press for- ward, and join those who have taken the highest ground, who live so near the throne, and are comparatively so blameless in the sight of God? Is there any thing in my outward circumstances to prevent my being as much devoted to God as Edwards, Brainerd, Pciirce or Baxter? I am constrained to say there is nothing. I ask myself again, am I not under as solemn obligation as these men, to be holy ? Am I not under the most solemn obligation to be hol}^ as God is holy? I surely am. He claims from me all that I can give him; my heart, and soul, and mind, and might, and strengtli. But a great difficulty remains. Who can successfully contend with all his spiritual foes? Who can of himself live as holy as God requires? My past experience teaches me that I have not the strength requisite for the desperate undertaking. I fear to engage. Is there a helper at hand? One on whose strength I can lean, and be supported? There is, there is, / thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord. It is written, 'My grace is sufficient for thee.' 'He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.'" Under a later date he writes: — "This evening I have had an impressive sense of the holiness of the Divine Being, the excellence 228 GEORGE DAKA BOARDMAN. of tlie Scriptures, and the purity of the Blessed Spirit. I have felt an unusually sweet sense of supreme love to God, as the holiest and best of beings; indeed, as the only source of true holiness, the infinite fountain of excellence and goodness. Every thing else has appeared in its comparative insignificance. I wanted to be with God, to be like him, and to praise him for ever. Without God I could have no home, no heaven, no happiness, no holiness, no rest.'' In accordance with instructions received from the Board, perfectly coinciding with the views of the missionaries themselves, it was decided by the members of the mission to establish a new station at Tavoy, the chief city of the province of Tavoy, about one hundred and fifty miles down the coast from Maulmain. Mr. Boardman, whose qualities as a pioneer had been put to the test at Maulmain, was selected to commence the establishment. Several circumstances combined to render this arrangement in a degree trying to his feel- ings. He had himself founded, and assiduously laboured to improve the station at Maulmain. He had patiently met and surmounted the obstacles attending its establishment. He had encountered the perils, endured the privations, and suffered the losses incident to its early history, and with much satisfaction had beheld it rising in comforts and increasing facilities for the successful prosecution of missionary work. He had here seen the gospel-seed begin to take root, and the baptism of three heathen converts, and the reception of four more as candidates for the same rite, were to him the earnest of larger success yet to come. Besides, if he removed from Maul- main, his mind had been, even before he left America, directed to Arracan, the scene of Colman's untimely death. Still, in the spirit with which at the first he devoted himself to the missionary work, he cheerfully yielded all his personal preferences and cherished anticipations to the opinion of his brethren in the mission. Mr. Boardman, with his little family, arrived in Tavoy on the 9th of April, 1828. He was accompanied by a Siamese youth lately baptized, four boys fi^om his school, and the first Karen convert, Ko Thah-byu, then a candidate for baptism. He found Tavoy an ancient city, surrounded by a brick wall, its streets intersecting each other at right angles, and containing a population of more than nine thousand. It presented a general appearance of comfort, and even of rural beauty, being so thickly set with the mango, the jack, and the magnificent sacred banyan, as to resemble a grove rather than a city. But it was, and is, a stronghold of the religion of Gaudama, GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 229 abounding with temples, shrines, and images, scarcely affording a site for a mission-house, not preoccupied by the emblems of idolatry. Two hundred priests, inhabiting fifty monasteries, at that time guarded the shrines of Gaudama from desecration, and kept the pall of ignorance upon the minds of a vast multitude of deluded vota- ries. A hundred temples, bedizened with oriental decorations, are fdled with images of Gaudama of different sizes, many of them wrought from the beautiful alabaster, some of one piece and larger than life, and others of other materials of colossal size. More than a thousand pagodas, within the city walls, besides a large number in all the surrounding country which tip every mountain and hill, surmounted by their gilded iron umbrellas, from which chimes of little bells depend, rung by the slightest breeze, arrest at once the eye and the ear of the devotee, and keep the objects of his super- stition constantly before his mind. The largest of these structures is fifty feet in diameter and one hundred and fifty feet high. Around it are others of smaller dimensions, which, with the central one, are all gilt from the summit to the base. Within and around its sacred enclosure is a thickly-set grove of banyan and other sacred trees, intersected with paved foot-paths, filled with large bells to be rung by devotees, together with thrones, and other idolatrous emblems, which, with the branches of the trees, are on worship-days loaded with fes- toons of flowers, the simple offerings of female worshippers. Mr. Boardman was kindly received and hospitably entertained b}^ the English commissioner, and in ten days after his arrival he had taken a house, and commenced receiving visits from the inhabitants. Early in July the zayat was completed, in which he prosecuted his labours with devoted zeal, and in full faith of the ultimate triumph of the cross even in that idolatrous city. He was at first much encouraged by the number of visitors who called to inquire about the new religion, among whom were some priests. He indeed sus- pected that the complaisance and good-feeling manifested by some of the yellow cloth with whom he had become acquainted, was only apparent, and that in heart they were meditating how they might most efficiently array their influence against him. He soon learned that his suspicions were well-founded. They used their utmost influence to keep the people from his instructions, and not witliout effect. Nevertheless, many visited him, and some avowed their adoption of Christianity, of whom two were baptized in the course of the summer. 230 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. Soon after liis arrival he had baptized Ko Thah-byu, who nns been mentioned as the first Karen convert, and as having accompa- nied him from Mauhnain. This man had formerly been a degraded slave, and owed his freedom to the charity of the missionaries; and such was the power of the gospel upon his own heart, and the unaf- fected zeal with which he afterwards proclaimed it to his own people, that he received the appellation of the Karen apostle. His conver- sion was the initial step of missionary efforts among the race to which he belonged, the successful opening of which constitutes the most distinguishing feature of Mr. Boardman's missionary life. This remarkable people are quite distinct in race, in language, in habit.'^, in intellectual culture and in religion, from the Burmans, by whom they are regarded as an inferior race, and oppressed and enslaved. These oppressions have driven them into the more remote and inac- cessible parts of the country, where they lead a thriftless and wan- dering life. Though when first discovered, they were in a degraded condition, especially addicted to intemperance, there was apparent among them a peculiar susceptibility to Christian influences. This may have arisen in part from the fiict that they have no established priesthood or form of worshi]^, while still they have a notion of the being of God, and of future rewards and punishments, — and in part from the influence of traditions and prophetic legends long current among them, pointing to a future emancipation from their degrada- tion, connected with the advent of white teachers from beyond sea. But from whatever cause it may have arisen, the success of the gospel among them is, in every point of view, remarkable, if not unexam- pled in any modern mission. The efforts of Ko Thah-byu brought many of his people, who resided in the city and its immediate vicinity, under the influence of Mr. Boardman's instructions. From them the intelligence soon spread to the mountain jungles, that a white teacher had come from beyond sea, bringing the knowledge of the true God. Parties of Karens frequently came in, a distance of several days' journey, to see and hear for themselves. Mr. Boardman found them far more tractable, and impressible by religious truth than the Burmans. lie describes in his journal an interesting illustration of this trait in their character, in the facts relative to their deified book. He had learned from them that, about twelve years before, a man in the habit of a religious ascetic had visited one of their villages, informed them that there was one living and true God, directed them to prac- GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 231 tice certain religious ceremonies, and in particular to worship a book which he left with them. They had from that time lield the book as an object of worship, though utterly ignorant of its contents and of the language in which it was written. The person to whose charge it was delivered became a kind of sorcerer, wearing a fantas- tical dress, and flourishing a wooden cudgel for a wand. At Mr. Boardman's suggestion, the sorcerer, attended by a numerous train, visited him, bringing with him the mysterious volume. All were anxious to know his opinion of it, assured that they should gain correct information of its contents, and receive proper instruction as to their duty in respect to it. Upon being unfolded from its multitudinous envelopes, it proved to be a copy of the ^^Book of Common Prayer, with the Psalms,^^ of an edition printed at Oxford. "It is a good book," said Mr. Boardman; "it teaches that there is a God in heaven, whom alone we should worship. You have been ignorantly worshipping this book; that is not good: I will teach you to worship the God whom it reveals." Every Karen counte- nance was alternately lighted up with smiles of joy and cast down with sadness ; the one, that they had learned the book to be really a good one, and the other that they had erred in worshipping it instead of the God revealed in it. With their consent, Mr. Boardman retained it, giving them, in exchange, a copy of the Psalms in Burmese. The old sorcerer, perceiving that his "occupation was gone, " at once threw away his jogar robe and his cudgel, and became a hopeful inquirer. From this time a large share of Mr. Boardman's attention was directed to the Karens; not, however, to the neglect of the Burmans. In almost every assembly he met, Burmans and Karens were mingled together. In his efforts for the Burman population, he attached special importance to schools. He and his efficient consort had laboured with much zeal in this department from the beginning of their missionary life, and with some success. The school for girls, at the close of a year from its establishment, contained twenty-one scholars, while that for boys had a larger number, of whom the five oldest had given good evidence of conversion, and been admitted into the church. The interest which he felt in this department of mission- ary effort, is shown in the thoroughly matured plans he formed for the establishment of schools throughout the city and the neighbour- ing villages. He unfolded them at length, in a communication to the Board at home, which exhibits a rare combination of liberal views, a warm Christian zeal, and a sound judgment. 232 GEORGE DAXA BOARDMAN. At the earnest solicitation of numerous ])arties of Karens, who had visited him from considerable distances in tlie interior, Mr. Boardman resolved on taking a tour into the jungle, and visiting as many of their villages as was practicable. Accordingly, on the oth of February, 1829, he set out, accompanied by Ko Thah-byu and another Karen disciple, two of the largest boys in the school, and a Malabar man to serve as cook ; leaving his wife, who had but just recovered from an illness of four months' duration, with her two little ones, (the younger a son six months old) and the boys' board- ing-school. He was absent ten days, in which time he travelled more than a hundred miles, and preached seventeen times. His route lay through a wild, rugged, and romantic country, over hills and mountains crowned with pagodas, across deep ravines and wild mountain streams almost impassable, through dark forests, the abode of various wild beasts, from the chattering monkey to the wily and fierce tiger; — a route nearly trackless, which could only be travelled. on foot, and which involved great fatigue and personal exposure. Two nights they were without shelter, in each instance through a violent drenching rain; and at best they were happy to find a Karen hut with a mat for a bed and a bamboo for a pillow, which, miserable as such accommodations were, the hospitable inmates cheerfully relinquished for them, giving them the best cheer their simple modes of life afforded. They first directed their course to the village of the sorcerer, and a chief who had visited the mission- house at Tavoy, as a promising inquirer. The villagers, who were expecting them, gave them a joyful welcome, supplied them with fowls, fish, and rice, and entertained them with the utmost hospi- tality within their power. Here Mr. Boardman found a zayat erected for him, of sufficient size to contain the entire population of the village, some seventy souls. In the evening nearly half of them assembled, to whom he preached some of the simplest truths of the gospel, Ko Thah-byu interpreting for the benefit of such as did not understand Burman ; and some, in their eagerness to learn, spent the whole night in the zayat. The next day, (Sabbath,) he preached three times to a larger assembly. At the close of the day, five persons requested baptism. He, however, decided to defer them for the present. On his return he visited several other villages to which he had been invited b\' the inhabitants, who treated him with the greatest respect. In one of them two persons asked for baptism, but he advised them to GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 233 wait a while, and learn more of the Christian religion. The cor- diality with which he was every where received, the unaffected kindness of the villagers, their simple and hearty hospitality, and their readiness to listen to Christian instruction, all conspired to ren- der this first tour into the Karen wilderness one of great interest and promise. While his hopes were thus raised in respect to the Karens, he was much depressed with an apparent want of success in his labours among the Burmans. Here he had to encounter the haughty indif- ference of the skeptical and conceited Boodhist, an invincible sacer- dotal opposition, and bitter revilings. What was still more trying, two or three cases of apostacy occurred in the little church. Still, affectionately desirous of them, with patience and hope, this inde- fatigable missionary laboured on. Conversing with visitors, super- intending the school, preaching in the city, itinerating through the neighbouring villages, he sowed beside all waters. Nor v^^as it without effect. The little church prospered, and received frequent accessions to its number, notwithstanding apparent reverses. During the spring and summer of 1829, Mr. and Mrs. Boardman were visited with a series of severe personal and domestic afflic- tions. In the previous winter he had experienced an alarming hemorrhage from the lungs, from which, however, he soon in a degree recovered. Still, unequivocal symptoms of the fatal disease which so early terminated his valuable life, continued to show themselves. Mrs. Boardman was prostrated with severe illness, and her constitution had become so much impaired that she was unable to rally as she had before. Their infant son was also in a critical state. With the hope that a short respite from their accus- tomed toil, and sea-air and bathing would prove beneficial, two or three weeks in May were spent in a trip to Mergui. Its effect was partially such as they desired. While illness and exhaustion were preying upon the parents and the youngest born, they were especially delighted with the apparently excellent health of the eldest born, a very intelligent and promising child of two and a half years. "Sarah," wrote the mother, "is as plump and rosy-cheeked as we could wish. 0, how delighted you would be to see her, and hear her prattle!" Within the month the father wrote: — "Our first born, our dear Sarah, after an illness of more than a fortnight, has left us in tears. Our anxieties about her are now over; but, 0 how affection still clings to her, and often sets 234 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. her ruddy, beauteous form before our eyes! * * * What a void has her loss made in our little family and in our aching hearts! It grieves me to think that I was so sinful as to need such a stroke. George, our only surviving child, is very ill, and we scarcely hope for his recovery. Mrs. Boardman's health, as well as my own, is also feeble. However, all is peace within, and I think I can say, 'Thy will, O God, be done.'" Their anxieties in regard to little George had hardly been relieved by a partial recovery, when another event occurred, scarcely less trying to themselves, and more detrimental to the interests of the mission. On the ninth of August they were aroused from their slumbers at an early hour, by a furious knocking at their doors and windows, and frantic outcries from their native friends, that Tavoy had risen in rebellion. They soon ascertained that large parties of natives in arms had attacked the powder magazine, (fortunately without success,) the house of a principal native officer in the town, and the prison ; — the last with such success as to effect a release of the prisoners, one hundred in number. The utmost alarm pervaded the city, which was garrisoned only by a small party of sepoys. To add to the general terror. Major Burney, the civil and military commandant, was absent at Maulmain, leaving the entire charge upon Mrs. Burney, then in a delicate state of health, and a young physician. The mission family was in great personal danger, their house being in the range of the fire of the belligerant parties, balls sometimes passing through the house. As soon as possible they availed themselves of Mrs. Burney's invitation to take shelter in the government-house; where, however, they remained but a short time, as it was deemed best to evacuate the town, leaving it in pos- session of the rebels ; for though the handful of disciplined sepo3's had repulsed them at all points, it seemed little short of madness to think of long defending themselves in the midst of a revolted city. They retired therefore to a wooden building on the wharf, of only six rooms, where were crowded together between three and four hundred persons, of different ages, sexes, grades, and nations, with arms, ammunition, provisions, and baggage, and, — a circumstance not specially agreeable in some of its possible connections, — six hun- dred barrels of gunpowder. For four wearisome and sleepless days and nights, in such a for- tress, this devoted party sustained the constant assaults of the tumultuous hosts of insurgents, raging around them like wild waves GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 235 of the sea. At length, on the morning of the fifth day of the siege, they beheld the steamer Diana coming up the river. " Our hearts," says Mr. Boardman, "bounded in gratitude to God." Colonel Bur- ney was soon among them. Under the direction of a brave and experienced ofiicer, the worn-out sepoys were inspired with the ardour of fresh troops, and the entire aspect of affairs was at once changed. The first care of the commandant was to place the two European ladies on board the steamer, in whose cabin they enjoyed the luxury of quiet rest in conscious security for the first time for five days and nights. They were taken to Maulmain, whither the steamer was forthwith dispatched for reinforcements. Colonel Burney, however, without waiting her return, immediately commenced throwing up a breastwork; but finding the firing from the wall a constant annoy- ance, he resolved to scale the wall and dislodge the guns. He was so successful in this that he was emboldened to make another attack upon the town, which resulted in the entire defeat of the insurgents, and the capture of their leaders, four of whom suffered death by the summary process of court-martial, while thirty more, among a much larger number that crowded the prisons, subsequently shared the same fate, as the award of a more deliberate trial. When quiet was restored, Mr. Boardman went into the city, where he found the ruinous effects of the recent events visible on every side. The mission-house was cut to pieces, books were torn up and the fragments scattered about, and the furniture was carried off or broken up. He spent several days in gathering up the relics and repairing the house; and then taking such of the scholars as were desirous of going, joined Mrs. Boardman at Maulmain. But those five days' confinement in that crowded building, with its suffocating air, wet, dirty floor, and damp walls, added to the seeds of consump- tion already sown in his constitution. And Mrs. Boardman, in addition to the other fatigues and exposures of that trying time, watched her invalid, little George, night and day, with a care which reacted upon herself They, however, in a few weeks returned to Tavoy, and reestablished themselves at their familiar post of labour. He was now much encouraged to find an increasing number of inquirers, and larger congregations than ever attending worship with an increasing solemnity. The school also* immediately became larger than ever before. A numerous company of Karens from the jungle came in to present the mission family their congratulations on their safe return. They had all heard of their critical situation at the 236 GEORGE DAXA BOAEDMAN. time of the revolt, and felt much anxiety for their safety. Three of them came for the purpose of receiving baptism, which, as they had several months before requested it, and gave good evidence of conversion, it was not thought necessary longer to postpone ; they were baptized and admitted to the communion, which was observed with much spiritual preparation and solemnity. He now entered upon a more systematic course of itinerary labour among the villages around Tavoy. Accompanied usually by some native Christian, and two or three boys of the school, he visited three or four villages a-week, teaching from house to house, and convers- ing with such as he met by the way or in the fields, spending some- times four or five days. Sometimes he visited the villages on the margin of the river by means of a boat, but oftener he could better accomplish his object by the more laborious method of journeying on foot. On his return he was frequently cheered by finding a company of Karens from the jungle, all eager to listen to Christian instruction, and some desirous of receiving baptism; of whom some were admitted, and others, with his characteristic prudence, advised to wait for a time. And as far as possible to supply the call for Christian instruction among their distant villages, Ko Thah-byu, with one or two others, were frequently commissioned by him to preach the gospel to their countrymen, which they did, with much acceptance and success. And thus passed the first two years of his missionary life at Tavoy. His labours had been much interrupted during this entire period, by sickness and death in his family, by the native insurrec- tion, and by the repeated recurrence of hemorrhage of the lungs and other symptoms of consumption. Notwithstanding, he had performed a great amount of missionary labour. He had gathered a native church of twenty members; he had carefully instructed many more in the principles of Christianity, who gave more or less evidence of conversion ; he had seen more than one village of Karens abandoning their heathen practices and observing Christian institu- tions: and he had sowed much seed, in the city, in the villages, and through the wild jungle, a limited harvest of which he was yet to gather, but the greater part remained to be garnered by succeeding missionaries. In the winter of 1829-30 Mrs. Boardman was brought low by a most alarming illness. For weeks her husband suspended all mis- sionary labour, and watched over her with scarcely a hope of her GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 237 recovery. After tlie crisis of her disease, she was removed a few miles from town to a bungalow by the sea-side, for the benefit of the sea air, where the}^ remained a few weeks. She was partially restored, but was still an invalid; and at the suggestion of the Maul- main missionaries was removed thither for a time. Mr. Boardman, who had suffered from an incessant cough ever since the revolt, and was much enfeebled, joined her early in May. He made arrange- ments with the Karens that if he should be able to visit Tavoy after the rains, he would meet them at the great pass of the mountains, where they proposed to build a zayat, and assemble from all quar- ters. Still they bade him farewell with much sorrow, and many fears that they should never see him more. Enfeebled as he was, he could not rest. While at Maulmain, he preached on the Sabbath twice in English and once in Burman, and once again during the week in Burman or English; he attended catechetical exercises every other evening in the week; he was every day occupied in correcting proof for the press, in religious conversa- tion, or in the necessary oversight of the several interests and labours of the mission, Messrs. Judson and Wade being then absent from the station. Mrs. Boardman, in Maulmain as in Tavoy, was con- stantly employed in teaching in the schools, or in conversing with inquirers of her sex who visited the mission-house. She gradually regained her accustomed strength, of which she was soon to stand in the utmost need. Her youngest born, an infant son of eight months, was snatched from her embrace by death at Maulmain. But a darker cloud hung over her. To her tenderest earthly friend no change could bring any relief His cough was more hollow, and increasing in severity, and his thin countenance grew more pale. Death had marked him as his own. Still he had no heart to rest. After seven months' residence in Maulmain, they returned to Tavoy, with their only surviving son, and their scholars who had accompanied them, and resumed their accustomed and loved toil. They were also accompanied by several of the native Christians, among them the ordained native preacher of Eangoon, Moung Ing, and the devoted and indefatigable Ko Thah-byu, who, in Mr. Boardman's daily declining health, proved a valuable aid to him. As soon as the tidings of their return reached the jungle, many of their former visitors came in with expressions of joy and loaded with presents. The children came back to the schools, and every circumstance, apart from the health of the mis- 238 GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. sionary, appeared most encouraging. Of the Karens wlio first came, five requested baptism, but were deferred till the arrival of a larger number, wliich soon came, — a company of forty, including all the disciples they had not before seen. Eighteen were accepted and baptized by Moung Ing, Mr. Boardman being unable to administer the ordinance. One of the scholars in the boj^s' school was bap- tized at the same time, the son of a Mussulman, the chief native officer of Tavoy. At the close of the day Mr. Boardman adminis- tered the communion to thirty-seven members, mingling his gratitude with theirs for the auspicious event which had nearly doubled their number in a single day. The following touching description of this scene is from a letter of Mrs. Boardman: "The first three days were spent in examining can- didates for baptism, and instructing those who had been previously baptized. Sometimes Mr. Boardman sat up in a chair, and addressed them a few moments; but oftener I sat on his sick couch, and inter- preted his feeble whispers. He was nearly overcome by the glad- dening prospect, and frequently wept. But the most touchingly interesting time was the day before they left us, when nineteen were baptized. Grief and joy alternately took possession of my breast. To see so many in this dark heathen land putting on Christ, could but fill me with joy and gratitude; but when I looked upon my beloved husband, lying pale upon his couch, and recollected the last time we had stood by those waters, m}^ heart could but be sad at the contrast. But in the evening, when we came together to receive from him the emblems of our Saviour's sufferings, my feelings changed. A breathless silence pervaded the room, excepting the sound of his voice, which was so low and feeble that it seemed to carry the assurance that we should feast no more together till we met in our Father's kingdom." It was but too evident that the end of his labours was near. The anxious Karens, fearing that he might not be able to fulfil the prom- ise made them before he went to Maulmain, to visit them, if possible, after the next rains, had built a zajcit in the wilderness on the hither slope of the mountains, and offered to come and carry him out in a litter. He had just decided to yield to these importunities, when Mr. and Mrs. Mason arrived at Tavoy as auxiliaries to the mission. No time was to be lost; and on the thirty-first of January, the part}' set out, Mr. Boardman borne in a cot upon the shoulders of the Karens, Mrs. Boardman and the newly arrived missionaries acconi- GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN. 2'u) panying. At the end of three days tliey readied tlie zayat, wliicli stood on the margin of a beautiful stream, at the foot of a range of mountains. It was but a rude open structure, a comfortless place for a dying man, leaving him exposed to the burning sun by day, and the cold, damp fogs by night. But his mind was happy, and he would often say, "If I live to see this one ingathering, I may well exclaim with happy Simeon, Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace." But death was rapidly hastening on. "On Wednesday," — we quote from Mrs. Boardman, — "while looking in the glass, he said, 'I have altered greatly ; I am sinking into the grave very fast — just on the verge!' After a few moments deliberation it was concluded to defer the baptism of the male applicants, and set out for home early next morning. Nearly all the female candidates had been examined, and as it was difficult for them to come to town, it was thought best that Mr. Mason should baptize them at evening." At the close of the day, just as the sun was sinking behind the moun- tains, his cot was placed at the river side, in the midst of the solemn company that was gathered to witness the first Christian baptism ever performed in that ancient mountain stream. Thirty-four con- verts, whose examination had been approved, were baptized by Mr. Mason ; leaving twenty-six, who were examined and baptized a few weeks later. Mr. Boardman gazed upon the scene with a joy almost too great for his feeble frame to endure. After the evening meal, still reclining upon his couch, he whispered to the disciples, who were gathered around him, a few words of parting counsel, and bade them a last farewell. Early the next morning they left for home, proceeding with as much expedition as possible, hoping that he might survive the journey, and die under his own roof But the hope was disappointed. On the following day, a little past noon, he closed his eyes upon earth, and departed to his everlasting rest. The death of Boardman deserves to be ranked among the few instances of exalted heroism in the last moments of life, recorded in the annals of mankind. Wolfe upon the heights of Abraham, the elder Pitt in the parliament-house, the younger Adams in the capi- tol, have often been cited as examples in their death of true moral sublimity. But while we may well gaze with admiration upon these death-scenes, the death of Boardman in the jungle is adapted to awaken an admiration as much higher, as the purpose for which he lived and died is nobler and purer than that of the warrior, or even 2-iO GEORGE DANA BOARDMAN". the statesman. As an instance of sublime devotion to an all-absorb- ing purpose, this is not inferior to those; while as to the purpose itself, nothing can exceed it in elevation and in purity. Said Dr. Judson, "He fell gloriously in the arms of victory, — thirty-eight wild Karens having been brought into the camp of King Jesus, in little more than a month, besides the thirty-two who were brought in during the two preceding years. Disabled by wounds, he was obliged through the whole of his last expedition to be carried on a litter; but his presence was a host, and the Holy Spirit accompanied his dying whispers with almighty influence. Such a death, next to that of martj'rdom, must be glorious in the eyes of Heaven. Well may we rest assured that a triumphal crown awaits him in the great day, and 'Well done, good and faithful Boardman, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'" The career of Boardman was a brief one. He died at the early age of thirty. But it was preeminently an active one. From the day of his conversion to the close of his life, activity for Christ, and for souls, was the distinguishing trait of his character. Work, toil, constant and unremitted, bore him on, on, not merely to the verge of the grave — for there he seemed to be, months before his labours closed — but full up to the very barrier of time, the threshold of eternity. Ever an invalid, he gave himself no time to be sick — no time to die; though he was always ready to obey the summons, when it should come. And yet he was patient, quiet, modest, humble, and self-distrust- ful. He had none of the spirit of him who said to Jonadab the son of Eechab, Come see my zeal for the Lord. Singularly spiritual in his constitution, he possessed a refined and highly sensitive nature. His personal and domestic afflictions were sore trials to his spirit. He felt keenly every discouraging circumstance connected Avith his missionary work, and severely chid himself, lest he were, in some way unconscious to himself, the cause of them ; though few mission- aries or ministers any where, were ever more successful than he was, for the short period of his missionary life. What intellectual greatness he might have achieved in a different sphere, had time and opportunity been given him, we know not. /^Those who knew him best in his youth, felt that he had within him intellectual and moral elements that would have borne him to a high and honourable distinction in his own land, had he directed his energies to the attainment of such an end. They had indeed already GEOBGE DANA BOARDMA.N. 241 marked out sucli a career for him, and pressed him to enter upon it before they knew whither the warm desires of his soul were urging him. But the great Master had determined a different course for him, and to Him he had given himself. Faithfully he fulfilled that course, and finished it with joy. He has left behind him a name fragrant as ointment poured out; a rich legacy to the youthful Christian, a bright example of consecration to the honour of Christ and the salvation of men. '^w.— x (/-A u. rofession of his faith November 3d. His demeanour was not very promising at first, but he proved an efficient Christian, 276 WILLIAM MILNE. After spending four years at Malacca he returned to Cliina, where he composed and began the printing of a tract, for which he was imprisoned and beaten. His stripes did but make him the more self-denying in his efforts for the salvation of his countrjnnen, and he shortly had the joy to witness the conversion of his ^Yife. He subsequently studied under Dr. Morrison, by whom he was ordained to the ministry, and became eminently useful, indefatigable in prop- agating the gospel, and the instrument of bringing a number of his friends to receive the word of life. A printing-press was set np in the autumn of 1816, with the view of doing something in the Malay, but the absence of Mr. Thomsen and the cares that unduly pressed on Mr. Milne prevented this. The workmen could not be dismissed without a breach of faith, and they were employed on two works in English for circulation among Eu- ropean residents in India, — Bogue's "Essay on the New-Testament." and Doddrige's "Rise and Progress." Some copies were subscribed for, som6 purchased for distribution by a benevolent gentleman, others placed on sale in different parts of India, and the balance sent to different missionary stations for gratuitous circulation. The publication of a periodical in English, to disseminate information relative to the Indo-Chinese nations and the progress of Christianity, which had been contemplated from the first, was commenced in May, 1817. It was entitled the "Indo-Chinese Gleaner," and was issued quarterly. Mrs. Milne having been attacked with an alarming illness, was obliged on becoming convalescent to make a voyage to China for the reestablishment of her health. Her husband, having no assistant in the mission, could not accompany her, but the subsequent arrival of Eev. W. H. Medhurst, whose name has since become familiarly associated with the mission in China, enabled him to escape for a season from his overwhelming toils, and he followed his wife to Macao. Previous to his departure he had finished the translation of the Book of Joshua, and while there translated Judges, as also an exposition of the Lord's Prayer, and a tract on the folly of idolatry. He returned with his wife to Malacca, their health much improved, in the following February. There they found Mr. Thomsen once more at his post, and were also cheered by the presence of Rev. J. and Mrs. Slater, who had been sent out further to reinforce the mission, followed by Messrs. Milton, Beighton, and Ince, who arrived in September. WILLIAM MILNE. 277 In November was kid the foundation of the Anglo-Chinese College. It was organized with a view to give instruction to Europeans in the Chinese language, and to natives in English, for which purpose an ample library, competent English professors and Chinese tutors were to be provided. The ediiice was completed and the institution opened in the autumn of 1820. During 1818 Mr. Alilne compleied the translation of both books of Samuel and the two books of Kings, and prepared three new Chinese tracts. He was soon after summoned to part with Mrs. Milne, who died March 20, 1819. It was a severe blow, for he had found her a " help " especially "meet" for him, her fine mental endowments and amiable temper having been crowned by a consistent and scriptural piety. Her sympathy in all his pursuits, from their first designation to the missionary work, had lightened his burdens and strengthened his hands, and he commemorated her worth in the most touching expres- sions of grief, subdued by the consolations of his assured faith. From this time Dr. Milne continued indefatigable in his labours of preaching, translation, and the general supervision of the station, with little to diversify the course of his life, to the end, which was nearer than any thought, though vigilant friendship had found cause for concern. Neither increasing infirmities, nor a series of calumnious attacks that about this time found their way into several publications, slackened his efforts or tamed his steadfast zeal. The Directors of the Missionary Society authorized him to undertake a voyage for the invigoration and prolonging of a life so valuable, but a temporary renewal of strength induced him to decline it. Early in the year 1822, it having become apparent that he could not bear the severe draft upon his physical resources, he sailed to Singapore for rest, and, if possible, restoration. Obtaining no sensible relief, he pro- ceeded to Pinang. A few days' experience showed that no amend- ment could be expected there, and he returned to Malacca with the intention of trying a voyage to the Cape of Good Hope. But it was too late. He had exhausted himself, and had only time to reach the scene of his toils, and to die. He landed at Malacca on the 2-lth of May in a state of extreme weakness, and entered into rest on the 2d of June. A conviction that he was near his end had gained strength during his last voyage. On one occasion he pra3^ed. "() God, prepare me for life or death!" adding with emphasis, "but death, — death! that is the thing!" During his last hours his mind 278 WILLIAM MILNE. was peaceful, but without tlie transpoi't wliicli sometimes animates the dying. He repeatedly said that "lie had no hope of salvation but through the merits of Jesus." "The closing scene of this good man's life," says Dr. Morrison, "was peace, but not joy. Those who have comparatively much knowledge, understand best how ignorant the wisest men are, and those who have thought most on the awful realities of eternity, are likely to meet death with the greatest awe. It is a serious thing to die. To stand before the judgment-seat of Christ is an awful anticipation. And, as it is not everv good ship that enters its final haven with a fair wind and under full sail, so it is not given to every good man to have a joyful entrance into the spiritual world. In that haven there is indeed eternal rest; but clouds and tempests are below, and sometimes gloom at the entrance. Of the good man, the last end shall assuredly be peace, but that peace may not be felt till he has passed the bourne." The career of Milne was comparatively short, and it had nothing in its outward circumstances to dazzle the imagination, even had he at all thirsted for admiration. Doubtless it was an}'" thing but the fulfilment of those youthful dreams that enchanted his fancy while tending his flocks. It called into exercise the truest benevolence, the most unwavering industry and patience, with the utmost breadth of understanding and soundness of judgment. His conscientious diligence, sober wisdom, and purity of purpose, fitted him at once to assume grave responsibilities when labouring alone, and to cooperate fraternally with others. His temper was ardent, and his standard of effort exacting; but as he asked nothing of his brethren which he was not more than ready to do himself, his relations to them partook equally of the commanding and the winning. His discretion was not at fault when he was compelled to rely upon it; his readiness to receive, as well as to impart counsel, made him invaluable as an associate. No better testimony could be given to the excellence of his character than was afforded by the affectionate confidence with which his colleagues regarded him while living, and the sorrow they manifested at his early death. His chief services to the mission were in the department of translation. He shares with Morrison the honour of giving the entire Bible to China. The educational and general operations of the mission to Malacca had less permanence than was hoped, not from any want of adaptation to the ends sought, but through the great providential change that has since opened WILLIAM MILNE. 279 China to direct missionary effort, and transferred to tliat empire the strength that had been gained in the colonies. It is to the praise of Milne that his moral discrimination was not warped by contemporary opinion. The opium-trade, which has fixed an enduring stain on the history of British relations with China, was denounced by him as early as 1820, when he stood alone in its condemnation. He saw, what is now manifest to all, how fearful an obstacle it is to the progress of Christianity, and what sure destruc- tion it is working among the millions of China. It sadly darkened in his view the prospects of the enterprise on which his life was staked, and from his grave comes a perpetual protest against one of the most appalling crimes that stains the British name. WALTER MACON LOWRIE. Walter Macon Lowrie, the third son of Walter and Amelia Lowrie, was born in Butler, Penn., on the 18th of February, 1819. His early years were principally spent under the care of an excel- lent and faithful mother. He was naturally cheerful, frank, kind, and obedient; and a general favourite among his playmates. At an early age, he manifested those powers of mind which shine so conspicuously in the latter part of his life. He passed with credit through all the preparatory stages of his education, and entered Jefferson College in October, 1833. Like so many other of the most eminent servants of God, he was the fruit of a college revival. During the second year of his course, Jefferson College 'and its vicinity were blessed with a powerful revival of religion. Many of the students were brought to Christ — some of whom have since devoted themselves to the work of the ministry. Among these was the subject of this memoir, and the lamented Lloyd, who has also gone, with his bosom-friend, to rest in the favour of God. Mr. Lowrie frequently refers to the 29th of December, 1834, as the memorable day when he was brought to Christ, and received him as his Saviour. His conversion was not marked by any violent emotion or change. Neither his sorrow nor his joy were such as many experience, in the time of their passing from death to life. Still he could say from the first, "Though I as yet see little ot Christ and his exceeding love to me, in my lost and ruined condi- tion, yet, what little I do see, fills me with love and peace, and an earnest desire to see more and more of him^ and to lay myself down and give up my soul at the foot of his cross." His early training had been religious, and as in most such cases, the light seemed to break upon him graduallj^, but it was increasing more and more unto the perfect day. He was sometimes tried with doubts and fears; yet in the main, his piety was trustful and cheerful, and he has left us this record, "that after applying every test in my power. 282 WALTER MACON LOWRIE. to examine tlie sincerity of mj heart, I am enabled to say, tliouirh still with fear and trembling, that Jesus is mine and I am his." From the first, his views of Christ and the gospel were singularly clear and scriptural. He felt deeply the hardness and sinfulness of his heart; his inability to save himself; and he came cordially to Christ for salvation. He knew that his only hope was in Christ, in his perfect righteousness and atoning blood; and accordingly Christ became at once the object of his supreme love. He recog- nised ids will as the law of his life. The most striking thing which characterized his religious expe- rience— as it is perhaps the most striking peculiarity of his mind — was the great maturity and soberness of hiB views. His earlier productions bear the mark and character of ripe years. This shows itself in his mode of settling questions of duty. As soon as the love of Christ became the ruling passion of his soul, we find him deciding upon the choice of a profession — and then upon the field of labour. He decided at once, and yet with caution and a clear view of the reasons for and against so early a decision. He thus states them to his father: "If I now decide upon my profession, I may lay my mind more ardently to being prepared for it; I may the more readily make all my pursuits subservient to this; and secondly, if I now decide to be a minister, it may conduce to per- sonal piety and a closer walk with God. On the other hand, there may be objected, first, my youth; second, my inexperience of my ownself and others ; third, the fickleness of my temper, and, fourth, circumstances may occur, which may render it obligatory for me to change my views. I regard myself in this light. I profess to be, and hope I am, a servant of Christ; the command is, "Go work." The first question is, how shall I work? the second, where? With this full view of the question, we find him, September, 1835, already determined upon the ministry as his calling. The question of personal consecration to the missionary work, had been before him from his first experience of a hope in Christ, and he met it with the same clearness in his views; the same deliberation and prayer, and the same decision, as the previous question of his calling. In a letter to his father, he says: "This question has, as you are aware, long been before my mind. This session I felt it to be important to know what I should do, and what time I could spare was devoted to the examination of the question. It never seemed to present any great difficulties to my mind- and I don't know that I could give any WALTER MACOX LOWRIE. 283 particular account of the reasons which led lae to believe that it was my duty to spend my life among the heathen. The question always seemed, though a Yery important one, to be. Can I do more abroad than at home? There were no providential hindrances to prevent me from going. Providence seemed rather to point to the heathen as the proper place. My own inclinations and feelings pointed the same way." He made this determination Avitli a full sense of his own weakness: but once made, he never shrank from carrying it into effect. He knew no regrets ; and from henceforth all his energies were bent to the preparation for that work. This determination was formed about the middle of January, 1837, and in September of the same year he completed his college course with the highest honours of his class. On leaving college Mr. L. returned to his father's family, then residino; in New- York. His constitution being; weak it was thougiht best by his friends that he should not enter immediately upon his theological course. He spent the winter therefore in New-York. In May, 1838, he entered the theological seminary at Princeton, and joined the class regularly formed in September following. His course in the seminary was not marked by any peculiar circumstances. He was faithful in all his duties, "and never absent from a single recita- tion," He entered with zeal into the study of the original Scriptures; so necessary to a successful missionary, and in which he was emi- nently useful in after life. He, however, kept his main end in view, and every thing was made subservient to this. The fire which wa& kindled in his soul never died out. He was rapidly maturing in principle and faith. His religion was taking on more and more the cast of his mind. In his correspondence with Lloyd and Owen he lays open to us his feelings and views. He refers to his college experience: "It seems to me that we all lived too much by excite- ment, not enough by simple faith. Our religious societies were pre- cious and profitable, and I should be sorry to give them up, but perhaps we depended too much upon them, without remembering that it is God alone who can give the increase, and depending on these means (at least in my own case) was productive of a spirit of action more resembling the crackling of thorns than the steady intense flame that consumed the Jewish sacrifices. On this subject there is danger of making great mistakes, and because we do not t»jo>/ reli'j/on, of thinking that we are not as engaged as we were then. 284 WALTEPw MACON LOWRIE. The truth I suppose is, that we are not to measure our piety by our enjoyment so much as by tlie steadiness of our purpose of self-conse- cration to God." "Our feelings are important, but I find it often necessary to go against them. They are like perfumes that sweeten the gales which waft us on our course; and at times they may even be compared to the gales that assist the galley-slave as he toils at the oar. But we are rowing up stream, and it will not do for u^ to lie on our oars every time the breeze lulls. — The flame was now that intense steady flame of deep-seated principle. His reliance upon the divinely appointed means of grace, was consistent, as it always must be, with the most ardent and genuine feeling. He warns his friend against excitement or romance, and yet in the very next sen- tence addresses him with questions like these: "What is the state of missionary feeling now among you? Do you yet hear the crj', 'Come over and help us,' as it rises from the death-bed of the Hin- doo, and borne along across the waste of waters reaches our ears both from the east and west, swelled as it is and heightened and prolonged by the addition of innumerable others? Oh! does the cry of the nations, echoed and reechoed from the distant mountains, still sound among you? or does it die away among the crumbling ruins of heathen temples, unheard and unheeded, save by the infidel and Deist? Oh, who is there to come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty ! There is nothing in all my course for which I reproach myself so much as that I did so little to excite a missionary spirit in college." While in the seminary his mind was occupied with the choice of a field of labour. He had long since determined to spend his life among the heathen, but where he should labour now became a ques- tion of importance. His mind was soon fixed upon Western Africa, though the prospect of living there was very uncertain. His feelings were enlisted warmly for that injured and benighted land; and his judgment went with his feelings, as to his personal duty. In a letter to Lloyd, he says: "Let me whisper in your ear, for I don't want it known, that I look to a field nearer home than China, or even Northern India— I mean Western Africa, the white man's grave." With this determination he offered himself in December, 1840, to the Board.of EoreignJ^issioi^^ of the Presb^'terian Church, expressing a decided preference for Western Africa as a chosen field of labour, but still submitting himself cheerfully to the decision of the Committee. No objection to this preference was made by his WALTEK MACON LOAVKIE. 285 friends, and for several months the question was considered as fully settled. The mission was, however, at that time "just commencing, and encompassed with many difficulties." It had also been severely tried. Most of those who had been sent there had been removed by death or ill-health, "In these circumstances, and having no other suitable man to send, it seemed clear that China was the proper field of labour for Mr. Lowrie. It was believed also that from the tone of his piety, his cheerful temper, his thorough education, his natural talents, and untiring industry, he was peculiarly fitted for the China mission." He yielded cheerfully to the judgment of the Executive Committee and his friends. It was not, however, from any sense of the danger to life in Africa. He was unwilling himself to assume the responsibility of going to any other country; but he left himself at the disposal of the Board, viewing their decision as the call of God. He was licensed to preach the gospel by the Second Presbytery of New York on the 5th of April, 1841. The larger part of the following summer was spent in the service of the Board in Michigan and among the churches in Western New-York. He was ordained on the 9th of November, and on the last Sabbath of that month received the instructions of the Board. During his college and seminary courses Mr. Lowrie was a most zealous and successful labourer in the Sunday school. He won the affections of his scholars, and inspired the teachers with his own fixed purpose and ardent spirit. The deep interest which he took in these schools, grew out of, or at least gathered strength from their close connection with a right missionary feeling in the churches. In a letter to a friend in the ministry, he writes: "I am becoming more and more convinced that it is in vain to expect the present genera- tion of Christians to do their duty in the work of missions; I do not say this in a spirit of censoriousness, but from a growing conviction that unless the subject of missions is early impressed on the minds of children; unless habits of self-denial and liberality for and to the heathen are encouraged in them, it is vain to expect that they will, when they grow up, perform in any tolerable measure the duties to the heathen that may be expected from them. Hence, it seems to me, if I were a pastor, I w^ould commence at once, or as soon as I dared in my Sabbath school. If the superintendent could not, or would not, I would as often as possible give the children some ideas of the state of the heathen, their superstitions, their spiritual pros- 286 WALTER MAC OX LOWRIE. pects, kc, and b}^ degrees I would get tliem in the habit cf giving their pennies to the mission arj' society. This would require constant attention and labour on the part of the pastor, but the result would repa}' the labour." It was from this conviction that he afterwards •wrote that admirable series of missionary letters to children, since published and circulated widely among the churches. After a long delay he left New- York in the ship Huntress, January 19, 1842. In the midst of that most severe trial — the parting with relatives and long-cherished friends — his mind was calm and peace- ful. "The conviction that I was in the path of duty, and the felt- presence and sustaining influence of an-all-gracious Saviour, upheld me, and carried me safely through a scene that I had dreaded almost as much as death itself" The vo3^age was a prosperous one. The whole number of persons onboard the vessel was thirty-one, and to these Mr. Lowrie preached cver}^ Sabbath with the exception of two. The attention was good. The seed was sown, and left to germinate and bring forth its fruit under the fosteinng care of the Spirit of God. He landed at Macao on the 27th of May, and closes his journal with that expression which he so often repeated, as if significant of his own melanchol}' end, — "What a blessed place heaven will be, luhere there is no more seaP'' At the time of his landing, hostilities still existed between Great Britain and China. The five ports were not yet open to the gospel. The missionaries who were already in the field, were labouring at Singapore and Macao, rather as a preparative for the great work, than in the work itself Still, all were looking for the time when God should, in his providence, break down these barriers, and open that populous nation to the gospel. Different branches of the church had sent out small and feeble bands, to be ready to enter the field, when God should throw it open to Christian effort. The instruc- tions of Mr. Lowrie made it his duty to inquire into the practica- bility of establishing a station at Hong-Kong or some point on the coast farther north; and then proceed to Singapore, and consult with the brethren there as to the propriety of removing the mission and concentrating the whole force in China. After instituting these inquiries in company with the Eev. S. L. McBryde, he sailed from Macao on the 18th of June, for Singapore. He took passage in a British vessel manned with Lascars ; and after beatinG" about for four WALTER MACON LOWRIE. 287 montlis, in unavailing efforts to reacli that place, returned to Hong Kong. It was during this voyage that he met so much suffering and danger, and realized more fully than before the blessedness of heaven^ where there is no more sea. Indeed the whole vo^'age was but one scene of trial and disaster. He left in the hope of having a rapid passage, and of soon returning with his brethren, and enter- ing upon the work in which his heart was engaged. His own views were clear as to the propriety of removing the mission at once. There were many obvious advantages in labouring nearer at hand if possible. The people were more intelligent. The time and exposure of going and returning would be saved ; and the mission would be better situated to take advantage of the issue of the war, if God in his providence should thus open that country to the gos- pel. With these hopes and views, he left Macao. But God ordered it otherwise than he hoped, and took the decision of that important question into his own hands. For fifty-three days he was driven uj) and down the China Sea by an adverse Monsoon. The vessel was finally compelled to put into Manilla for fresh supplies. These days, however, though lost apparently to his work, were not lost to him- self He was acquiring rapidly, by this adverse experience, that habit of resignation to the will of God, so preeminently important to the missionary; that confidence in the wisdom and goodness of God's providence; and a better understanding of that promise which was ever afterwards his stay: Xo, / am loith you always. Though alone, separated entirely from Christian society, and surrounded constantly by scenes of great wickedness, yet Christ himself was near, and this silent personal communion with him was the thing which he needed. He expresses himself; "Perhaps, on the whole, this voyage will be one of the most profitable I have ever made. It gives opportunities for solitude, which I have not had for months past — teaches me how to value privileges I do not now enjoy — dis- closes myself to myself, and forces me to rely not on human, but divine strength; and I generally enjoy great peace of mind, though at times I am in heaviness through manifold temptations." — His Journal abounds with expressions of his increasing attachment to Christ, and his growing strength in the faith of God's promise and providence. On the 18th of September he lefi; Manilla for Singapore, with every prospect of a short passage. The vessel was a fast one and the wind was fair. For a few days every thing was favourable; but 28S WALTER MACON LOWRIE. on September 25, while the passengers were all in high spirits of soon reaching the port, "the. ship suddenly struck against some obstacle with tremendous violence. It impeded her onward motion in a moment. We started to our feet; again she struck, and again she reeled like a drunken man. The deck quivered beneath our feet; and on going out we found the men running about, the officers giving their orders, and the terrified steward groaning and wringing his hands at the cabin-door. The ship soon struck again ; — the water gained rapidly, though four pumps were kept constantly going; and it was soon evident to all that she must sink. A few clothes and valuables were packed as closely as possible. It was arranged that twenty-one, including the captain and passengers, should go in the long-boat, and the mate and seven men in the jolly-boat," "The two boats were manned, and in the midst of a drenching rain, a heavy, rolling-sea, — with but one oar, and four hundred miles from land, we commenced our perilous voyage. About midnight, the wind abated, the clouds dispersed, and we kept slowly on to the north. On Monday we rigged a couple of masts, and a respectable able foresail and mainsail, using our whole oar and one of the broken oars for yards. A man and a boy were taken in from the jolly- boat, which made our whole number nineteen men and four boys in a boat twenty-one feet long and eight broad. We soon ascer- tained that there was only eight or ten gallons of water. Monday was a tolerable day, and we made some progress on our course, and began to cherish some hopes of reaching land. But Tuesday there was not a cloud in the sk}'; scarcely a breath of wind, and the hot sun of the torrid zone beating down upon us with scarcely a half- pint of water to quench our thirst. A fresh breeze, however, sprang np soon after dark, which lasted, with showers of rain, through out Wednesday. Thursday morning the wind rose and the sea began to run high, and frequent squalls of. wind and rain darkened the heavens and drenched us to the skin. We began to think of other things than of seeing land. Conversation ceased, and scarcely a word was uttered in all that time, except the orders from the captam to the helmsman. Many a longing, anxious look did we cast before us, to see if there were any signs of land; but still more to the west, to see if the gale gave signs of abating." "Death never seemed so near to me before. An emotion of sor- row pressed through my mind as I thought of my friends at home, and of regret, as I thought of the work for which I had come ; but WALTER MACON LOWRIE. 289 for myself, my mind was kept in peace. I knew in wliom I liad believed, and felt that he was able to save; and though solemn in the prospect of eternity, I felt no fear, and had no regrets that I had perilled my life in such a cause." "The day thus wore away, and the wind was now so strong, and the sea so high, that it was with the utmost danger that we could hold on our course. Besides, by our calculation, we could not be more than thirty or forty miles from land, but to attempt to land in such a sea, in the dark, would be madness itself. To remain where we were, even if it were possible^ seemed to be remaining in the jaws of death. It was, however, our only hope, and accordingly preparations were made for heaving the boat to. This was a most perilous opera- tion, for had a wave struck her, while her broadside was exposed to it, all would have been over with us. For awhile the result was uncertain, but the plan succeeded admirably. The wind howled past us with a force which made every plank in the boat quiver; the rain fell in torrents; and we could hear the great waves as they formed and rose away ahead of us, and then rushed toward us with a sound like the whizzing of an immense rocket. There we lay, packed together so closely that we could scarcely move, while every now and then a dash of spray came over us, covering us with pale phosphoric sparks that shed a dim and fearful light around us. Oh! it was a dreadful night. There was distress and perplex- ity, the sea and the waves roaring, and men's hearts failing them for fear. For myself, I know not that my mind was ever in a calmer state; and though I could not feel those clear convictions of my safety I have sometimes had, yet my faith was fixed on the Eock of Ages, and death, which then appeared near and certain, seemed to have but few terrors for me. The morning dawned: but as it dawned, the wind and sea increased. As soon as we could see, we commenced again our perilous course ; and when the morn- ing had fairly dawned, we saw the land stretching along right before us, about ten miles off. Supposing it to be the entrance to the Manilla Bay, we steered directly for the land. Meanwhile, the sea rose again ; and to our sorrow we found that we had mistaken the land. But it was too late to turn back, the squall was upon us, and though the rain fell so fast that we could not see more than twenty yards, yet on we must go. We were in the midst of break- ers; but we were directed in a channel between them, and, rounding a projecting point, we saw a little cove as smooth as an inland lake. 19 290 WALTEE MACON LOWRIE. Soon our boat touched tlie bottom, and we were safe. It was a time of joy. With one consent we gathered together under the trees, and offered up our thanksgiving to God. It was well we came in when we did, for it was then high tide, and a few hours later, the channel through which we passed was itself one mass of breakers." The island upon which they had landed was the island of Luban. There to their great joy they found the crew of the other boat, with the exception of four men, who had been drowned. Arrived at Manilla, Mr. Lowrie found kind friends, who supplied his wants. He was, however, still at a loss what to do, but thought it best to return to China. He reached Hong-Kong on the 17th of October, just four months after he had left Macao for Singapore, and closes his journal with that beautiful and appropriate passage from Psalms: cvii. 21-30. "During the time spent in these disastrous voyages, the providence of God had made the question plain on which the missionaries were seeking light. The war between Great Britain and China had been terminated by a treaty of peace, by which five cities on the coast were opened to the commerce and enterprise of Western nations, and to the labour of the Christian missionary. The time was fully come when the labours of the church of God, in behalf of China, needed no longer to be carried on at a distant out-post." Mr. Lowrie now took up his residence at Macao, and entered upon the study of the Chinese language ; preaching on the Sabbath to the American and European residents at that place. The cir- cumstances of the mission, then new, and having few with whom he could consult, threw upon him heavy responsibilities. His progress in the language was rapid. He writes to his brother: "My impres- sions of China as a field of labour are much improved since I came out here ; and after we once get free access to the people I do not think the language will be a very formidable obstacle. It will always be difiicult, but I am inclined to think its difficulties have been greatly overrated." After six months of study, he was able to read in easy Chinese and to carry on a conversation with his teacher. As it was thought best that some one from the mission should visit the northern ports, on the last of August Mr. Lowrie left Macao for Amoy and Chusan, calling at Hong-Kong. During his voyage up the coast, he passed the three great opium d(§p6ts. The number of vessels employed in this traffic is very great. The laws WALTER MACON LOWRIE. 291 whicli forbid its introduction, are a dead letter. The officers con- nive at its sale, and the people will part with any thing to secure it; and its use is most deleterious. It is one of the strongest chains in which Satan has bound that nation, and one of the chief obstacles to the progress of tlie gospel. Owing to an unnecessary delay in their departure, and an ill-provided crew, they were not able to reach Chusan before the northern monsoon set in, and were com- pelled to land at Amoy. Mr. L. here found Mr. Abeel and other missionaries engaged in their work. While at Amoy, Mr. Abeel and Mr. L. made an excursion to the city of Chang-Chow — lying some forty miles in the interior. The impressions from this journey are thus stated in his journal: "We were struck at the amazing populousness of the country. From seven o'clock to two we passed four cities, as large as the first class cities in the United States, sur- rounded by two hundred villages. I am astonished and confounded, and even after what I have seen, can scarcely believe the half of what must be true respecting the multitudes — multitudes of people who live in China, and who are perfectly accessible to the efforts of the missionary. The great mass of these people are poor in the strictest sense of the term. You see it in the coarse clothing they wear, the food they ea.t, the houses they inhabit, the furniture they use, and the wages they receive. Let the missionary who comes to China bear this in mind. The brightest talents are needed in preaching to the poor, — but especially will he need the graces of humility and self-denial, of faith and patience in his efforts to instruct the people. This people are still more degraded by the use of opium. The amount of capital embarked in this trade is enormous, and the eagerness of the Chinese to secure it, almost surpasses belief Every man who can afford to buy it, uses it, and I have seen common beggars, too poor to buy an opium-pipe, smoking it out of a little earthen vessel, which they had made to answer the purpose of a pipe. But these poor degraded multitudes are accessible. China is open to the gospel; and though there is no hope for such a people but in God, yet his hand is not shortened that it cannot save, nor his ear heavy that it cannot hear." Mr. L. knew well the wickedness of the human heart, and the serious obstacles which must be encountered in any attempt, to bring such a people under the power of the truth. And yet his hopes, stayed upon the promise of God, never failed. His faith kept him cheerful in the midst of the most arduous labours. He counted the 292 WALTER MACON LOWRIE. cost, and then set about the work manfully and hopefully. Writing to the students of the seminary at Princeton, he says: "Chinese missionaries must expect trials. We have a great work to perform, if this people is to be converted to God; but when was it ever known that any great work was accomplishec!, without labour and toil, self-denial and sacrifice, and oftentimes the acutest mental anguish? Has not every work that has been performed in the world for God, been watered by the sweat, and the tears, and the blood of his servants? And can we expect that the conversion of the most populous nation of the globe, shall be accomplished with ordinary efforts and ordinary sorrows? General experience is against it: the experience of the missionaries in China is against it: and the example of the Son of God, in the redemption of the world, should teach us not to expect it." On returning from Amoy to Hong-Kong, he was again in great danger. They had scarcely put to sea, when the rudder of the vessel gave way, and they were left at the mercy of the waves. The wind and current, however, drifted them on in their course; and they succeeded in fitting up the rud- der so as to control the vessel, just as they were about entering the China Sea, when their only hope would have been to have been picked up by some passing vessel. Mr. L. returned to Macao, and prosecuted the study of the Man- darin ; still uncertain at which of the five ports opened by the British treaty, he should be stationed. During the following year, the mis- sionary force was much enlarged. The location of thebrethernwas a subject of much delicacy; and a large share of the responsibility fell upon Mr. L., as the oldest missionary upon the ground. But after consultation and prayer, Mr. L. with four of his brethren were stationed at Ningpo, one of the most northern ports. He did not, however, remove until February, 1845. In the mean time, he was much occupied with the experiments accessary to complete the process of printing the Chinese with metallic type. "Every thing was new, and the entire arrangement of the characters devolved upon him. After months of labour, the difficulties were surmounted, and the press went into successful operation, June, 1844." This extra labour interfered greatly with his Chinese studies; and he was longing for the time to come when he could speak of Christ to the nations. The year 1845 was an important one in the history of China, and particularly in the history of the Presbyterian mission among WALTER MACON LOWRIE. 293 that people. It was during this year that those remarkable docu- ments were published, "giving full toleration to the exercise of the Christian religion without distinction and without obstruction." During this year, the missions of the Presbyterian church began to assume a more settled form. Early in the year, the missionaries reached their stations, and commenced their work under favourable auspices. In fixing upon the field of labour, Mr. Lloyd and Mr. L. were separated. This was a great disappointment to these intimate friends, but it seemed clearly the will of Providence: and after seeing each other for two weeks, they parted to meet no more, until they meet around the throne above. The sacrifice was cheerfully made, as a part of that necessary trial in the great work of bringing this people back to God. On the 21st of January, 1845, Mr. L. bade farewell to Macao, and turned his face to the north. He had witnessed great changes during his residence in Macao. He found China closed; now five large cities were open to the gospel. The only missionary on the ground, from his own church, had been called home by ill-health, and he had welcomed eight others to a share in this work. In other missions, sad changes had taken place. Some had gone to their rest, some had returned to their own land, not to return, and some had gone to recruit their wasted energies. It had been a time of change and trial. He was detained at Hong-Kong nearly a month; and then left in a fast-sailing vessel, but with adverse winds. After a rough voyage of twenty-three days, he landed near the city of Shanghai, the most northern city open to the missionary. He reached Chusan on the 1st of April, and Ningpo on the 11th. At Chusan he opened his books, and found them sadly injured. "Some utterly ruined, three- fourths defaced, or seriously damaged." This was a heavy loss to a scholar far from libraries and the facilities for repairing the injury. "The city of Ningpo lies in the centre of a large plain, sur- rounded on all sides by mountains, and intersected by innumerable canals, which serve the double purpose of irrigation and travelling." It has a wall some fifteen feet in height. There are two lakes and a canal within the city, communicating with those outside by water- gates. The city is about six miles in circumference, and contains from three to four hundred thousand inhabitants. Here, with Dr. McCartee, Mr. Culberston, and Mr. Way, he began to enter fully upon the great work for which he lived. He located himself in a 294 WALTER MACON LOWRIE. monastery, just within the north gate of the city. Here, with his teachers, and with occasional walks into the surrounding villages and country, he spent the remainder of this year. Althouo-h Mr, L. had now been in China between two and three O years, yet, owing to frequent interruptions, he had not been able to devote more than about half that time to the acquisition of the lan- guage. His attention, moreover, had previously been turned to the Mandarin or court dialect, and to the written language. In these he had laid a broad foundation, which was afterwards of great use, and had his life been spared, would have made more eminently useful. He was, however, beginning to use the spoken language with con- siderable fluency. In a letter to his father, he gives his views thus: " After a good deal of thought, I am about settling down to the opinion, that I ought to aim at a pretty full knowledge of books and writing in Chinese. In a mission so large as ours, and where Ave have a press, there must be some one tolerably at home on such points. I have been so circumstanced as to turn my thoughts much that way. I have laid such a foundation of acquaintance with the written language, as enables me to go on with some ease, and such as the other brethren can hardly be expected to do in some time. My education and previous habits are also such as fit me more for this, than mingling with men, unless actually obliged to do so. I pro- pose, therefore, not to neglect the colloquial, but to lay out a good portion of my strength in reading and writing Chinese; keeping in view, chiefly, the translation of the Scriptures and works explana- tory of them, and perhaps the preparation of elementary books, and it may be, a dictionary, a thing greatly needed." There was the more need that some should devote themselves to this study, as the question of a new translation was now a prominent one among the missionaries. "Morrison's translation was not adapted to gen- eral use. The same was true of Marshraan's. The new translation of Medhurst was much better, but still far from perfect. It was felt by all, that a new translation must be made." In accordance with the plan above delineated, Mr. L., without forgetting the great work of preaching, had prepared a work on Luke — the text accompanied with notes, explaining the historical allusions, geography, customs, &;c., &c. He had also prepared a small tract upon the Sabbath, with the second and fourth commandments. In a letter to the Society of Inquiry, at Princeton, near the close of this year, Mr. L. states his impressions of the field and prospects WALTER MACON LOWRIE. 295 of tlie mission: "Few have any idea of tlie extent of the groan J that is opened and opening to our hibours. This country is a world in itself, and the thought has often occurred to me, in traversing its beautiful plains and crowded streets, what a world has here been revolving, of which Christendom knows nothing. And this vast teeming population must have the gospel or must perish. Books will not do the work. It is the living teacher who must speak unto them the words of life. Such is the field we cultivate. As to our prospects, you have them in the concluding verses of Psalm cxxvi. : They that sow in tears, With shoutings shall gather the harvest. Going, he shall go, even with weeping, burdened with the seed to be sown. Coming, he shall come, and with shouting, burdened with his sheaves.'" The year 1845 closed with these labours. In the course of the year 18-16, Mr. L. began to preach. At first his attempts were not much to his satisfaction. He describes his service October 4th: "To-day commenced a Chinese service in my house, inviting Choo-pang- Yew and all the friends to come and hear. About the hour, my servant went to the door, and invited the passers-by to come in. Some came in with their burdens, some looking half-afraid, some ran right out again ; some stood up, some sat down, some smoked their pipes, some said what is the use of staying? — he is a foreigner, and we do not understand foreign talk. The attention was none of the best, and it required all my courage and presence of mind to keep going, and the people feeling quite free to make remarks, I got along no better than I had anticipated. I was not discouraged, though by no means flattered, with the result of this first day's experiment." He thus describes his mode of preparing and preaching: "I write a sermon every week, some eight pages, not so large as a letter-paper sheet. This I look over several times on a Sunday ; put up a notice on my door that there will be preaching. I commonly commence as soon as there are five or six present, and if the weather be fair I am pretty sure to have from fifteen to forty hearers. As the people keep coming and going, I preach the same sermon over again on the same afternoon ; and in this way I reach from fifty to one hundred on the Sabbath." This opportunity of preaching to such audiences and under such circumstances was the matter of his high- est joy and thankfulness. 296 WALTER MACON LOWRIE. In September of this year Mr, L. commenced the work of pre- paring a dictionary of the four books, and the five classics. These books contain the body of the Chinese language, and would have led him eventually to form a complete dictionary of the language. His plan was to give each of the characters with its pronunciation in Mandarin, and each of the dialects of the five ports. Then to give the etymology of the word; then to give the different significations; and quotations from native authors to illustrate each signification. "As the whole of the ancient history, geography, &c., is contained in these classics, I want ray work to be a sort of Classical Dictionary on these points. Hence I prepare short biographical, historical, and geographical sketches, under the appropriate characters, with refer- ences to native and foreign authors." This was an interesting as well as difficult work ; and he devoted himself to it with all his accustomed energy and perseverance. He had made large progress towards its completion when called away from his labours here. Another work which occupied his attention was the translation of the Shorter Catechism. Owing to the condensed style in which the catechism is written, and the want of equivalents to many of its terms, this was a laborious undertaking. He finished it May, 1847. He contributed some papers to the "Chinese Repository," on the word to be used in translating the name of God into Chinese. These were among the first papers advocating the choice so ably sustained since by Bishop Boone and Dr. Bridgman. During this year he complains, with many of his missionary brethren, of a low state of piety, and a want of conseci'ation to God. "God is showing me of late, in a very painful way, that in myself I am nothing; can do nothing, and am utterly sinful and vile. There has been much strangeness between God and my soul for many months past, and often a great reluctance to a close and faithful deal- ing with myself; so that I have lost the savour of spiritual things, and the perception of the beauties of the Bible, and seldom draw nigh to God. I seem to satisfy myself with very faint services. Oh, Lord God, give me wings, and enable me to breathe the pure and spiritual atmosphere of heaven! But I trust I am one of God's people, and have not wholly forsaken his service. I have sought happiness in my study, books, correspondence, business, friends; and with a half heart to them and a half heart to God, how misera- bly have I gone on! Oh Lord, unite my heart to fear thy namel" WALTER MACON LOWRIE. 297 There are Christian hearts even on Christian ground who ^\ill find no difficulty in reading their own experience here. lu reference to the trials of a missionary life, Mr. L. speaks thus in a paper found among his manuscripts after his death: "The first trial is commonly in the language he has to learn. He is astonished and almost sickened by the sights of idolatry which he now sees with his own eyes. His heart is overflowing with the desire to tes- tify against the sins he sees, and burning with zeal to urge upon the people repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. Alas ! my brother, your mouth is closed and your tongue tied. Restraining your zeal as you may, you sit down to your books, your teacher at your side, and work away in a hot climate sustained by hope. But we will suppose this first difficulty overcome. You have your first sermon prepared. You have studied it carefully. You have prayed and wept over it. You open your doors, and with a heart not wholly calm wait for your hearers. After getting something like order established, you commence to talk with them. Some few give a fixed attention. The most, however, stare vacantly, and while delivering your most earnest exhortations, two or three get up and walk out; or one man commences an audible con- versation with his neighbour, another smokes his pipe, and another takes nuts out of his pocket, and deliberatel}'' emploj'S himself in munching them. You soon begin to observe that few of your hear- ers come the second time. You find too that they are utterly igno- rant of the first principles of the oracles of God. You see no result of your labours. In the midst of all these discouragements it will be very strange if, after a few months, you do not feel the thought rising up, — 'Well, there is no use in talking to a people like this.' Then there is that sense of loneliness. Our congregations are dead. We have no Christian families to visit. It is not pleasant to go through the crowded burial-grounds here or look out over the plains. Death reigns. An idol temple pollutes every scene. The air is loaded with the smoke of incense offered to devils. The breezes waft sounds of idolatrous worship to our ears. We look over a region where there are thousands and myriads of people, and we feel that we are alone here. Oh, the loneliness, the utter desolation of soul. I have sometimes felt, in walking through these crowded streets, the very dogs barking at me for a foreigner, and not one among all these thousands to whom I could utter the name of Jesus with any hope of a response. Dry bones! very dry! We are walk- 298 WALTER MACON LOWEIE. iag among decaying skeletons, and grinning skulls, and death reigns. This is loneliness. "We liave temptations like yours, perhaps "vvorse. We have to look on idolatry and vice as common things, and accustom ourselves to see, with comparatively little concern, things that would deprive you of your rest. We must also more or less feel the influence of the public sentiment of these heathen lands ; which, like the hot blasts of summer, that weaken our bodies, blows over our souls with its sickening influences, like the poisonous breath of Ill-praise in the ' Holy War.' Forget not to pray for those who are often troubled on ever}'- side, though not distressed; perplexed, though not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed." The missionaries at Ningpo were encouraged by the hopeful con- version of three persons to Christ; they were enabled to close their report with thanksgiving for the past and hope for the future: "In the midst of idolatry and superstition, and the accompanying degra- dation in morals and character, much has been gained. We have a knowledge of the disposition, habits, and modes of thought of the people; we have laid the foundation of such a knowledge of the language, as will enable us to declare intelligibly the whole counsel of God ; we have begun to be favourably known among the people, many have become acquainted with our object in residing among them; and not a few have attained a considerable knowledge of the doctrine we teach ; suflB.cient to lead them to a Saviour, were it not for an evil heart of unbelief. On the other hand, the state of society aiFords us many grounds of encouragement. There are no walls of caste. There are no titled aristocracy. We are in the midst of a quiet, peaceful people. We may preach the gospel with the same freeness and boldness as in America, and the fields are white to the harvest." The early part of the year 1817 was spent in much the same method: preaching on the Sabbath ; correcting proofs for the press; carrying on a large correspondence ; and pressing on with his trans- lations and his dictionary. His plans were constantly enlarging as he advanced with his work. He was gaining rapidly an insight into the genius and meaning of the language, and also in ability to express himself in public discourses. "Having been appointed one of the delegates for the revision of the translation of the Bible, he reached Shanghai early in June, and when his colleagues were assembled, took part in that important work. The other delegates were Drs. Medhurst, Boone, Bridirman. WALTER MACON LOWRIE. 299 and Mr. J. Stronach. He bad supposed that the convention would not sit more than six or seven weeks, but it was soon found tliat a much longer time would be required. After a week's labour, the convention were arrested by the question, what is the proper word for God in the Chinese? Harrison and Milne had adopted the word Shin, as meaning God or divinity in general. Medhurst at first used the same word; but afterwards chose the term Shangii, which means Supreme ruler. Mr. Gutzlaff did the same; and under their influence the latter term was the one in common use among the missionaries. It was, however, objected to: first, as being the title of, the national deity; and secondly, because it is not a general term, and cannot be used in such passages as 'Jehovah our God.' Dr. Medhurst and Mr. Stronach took decided ground for jShangti, and Drs. Boone and Bridgman and Mr. L. for Shiny The controversy as to which should be chosen, lasted for a long time. At Shanghai, Mr. L. continued his Chinese studies much as at Ningpo. On Saturday the 14th of August he received a letter from his brethren at Ningpo, requesting him to join them immediately. On Monday the 16th, with two of his servants, he set out by canal to Chapoo. They reached that place on the 18th. A regular passenger- boat to Ningpo was engaged, and early on the 19th they set sail. The wind was contrary, and they were compelled to beat. They had scarcely gone twelve miles, when suddenly a vessel was seen bearing down upon them very rapidly. The boatmen and passengers were much alarmed ; but Mr. L. endeavoured to allay their fears. As the vessel came near, he showed a small American flag; but they still came on. It proved to be a piratical vessel. As soon as they came alongside, they boarded the boat, with swords and spears; and began to beat and thrust all in their way. They inflicted no injury, however, upon Mr. L. He was seated on a box, and remained quiet. When they were breaking open a trunk, he took out the key and gave it to them. They continued stripping the Chinese of every thing, but touched nothing of Mr. L. Before they had finished plundering, however, something seemed to have awakened a fear in their minds, lest when he reached Shanghai, they should be reported to the authorities. They debated for a time whether they should kill him or throw him alive into the sea. They hastily determined upon the latter, and two men seized him, but being unable to effect their pur- ])ose, another came to their assistance, and he was thrown overboard. ^\''hile the pirates were ransacking the boat, he was engaged reading 300 WALTER MACON LOWRIE. his Bible; and when tliej^ drew him on deck, he still had it in his hand. As they were casting him into the sea, he turned partially around, and threw his Bible upon the deck. He was seen several times as if he would struggle towards the boat; but as one of the pirates stood ready to strike him, if he should approach, he desisted, and soon sank. Such was the end of that beloved man. His work was done, and God took him to his rest. We have no room to quote the pious expression of his missionary brethren, which this sudden death called forth. He was regarded by every one as eminently qualified for the work in which he was engaged. His disposition was amiable; his talents were of a high order; he was in earnest in what he undertook; his energy and perseverance were remarkable; his piety was cheerful, "enlightened and profound." He was well fitted to meet and overcome the difficulties which he himself so truthfully and eloquently describes. "No one in China," says Bishop Boone, "promised to do more for the cause of our Divine Master than he. Just called by his breth- ren's choice to a participation in the work of revising the transla- tion of the Scriptures, this call was having the happiest effect in overcoming his disposition to modest retirement, and making him feel the necessity that was laid upon him, to take a more prominent stand among those whose attainments in the language qualified them to participate in all of a general character that was doing to advance the Saviour's cause. He was daily growing in power, and the field of usefulness was continually opening wider and wider before him; but God had work for him above this vale of tears, and now leaves us mourning and sorrowing, to do the great work without his aid. Dearly as I know he was loved by the mission with which he was connected, yet I believe no one in China mourns his loss as I do. We were together daily for two months and a half — ^labouring together in what we both believed to be the most important matter connected with our Master's cause in China, with which we had ever been connected. We had promised each other, if my life was spared, to do much together to set the plain doctrines of the cross, by means of tracts, before this people; but, alas! he is not, for God has taken him." £'•1! •- h.- yl a FiiJdt DAVID A HE EL. Pleasing as inav • the task of him ' becomes to chronicle the S'. IS ofren folt in record of the cv useful ■ Th.- is, ill ' Christian Mi?sionu; • t^ity of materials from \ -.f such an'one, during thi ^rl h an a co ■he case oi. u. iiore are ■••>"n trials a liful Missionary David Abh^kl, was born in the city of ]S'ow-JJrun^: State of New- Jersey, June 12th, 1804. His grandfa. .'...,, . Abeel, was of Dutch descent, his family having originally cam ■ 'rom Amsterdam, in Holland. He was himself a resident, i * ' New-Yorlr, and was for some time a deputy quarter-m..;'; :■. tiie Oontincn+ai Army David Abeel, sp-ni.>r father to the subject of our-notioe, ^va^; = of the Abeel, (well known ' and was himself an •"^iderable portion of an upright, wor,- - (sj.ed w died of typhus fever, leaving two sons, the youngest but five months old. He was himself seriously ill during the last illness of his wife, and when she died, it was thought not improbable that he would quickly follow her. About a year after his marriage, he received his medical diploma, and settled as a practitioner in Braintrem, Wyoming county, Penn. After the death of his wife, so great was his solitude and sadness, that he settled his accounts, disposed of his property, and returned with his two motherless children to the home of his early days. But notwithstanding he felt his bereavement most keenly, he sub- mitted to it with a calm and trusting spirit, and it evidently marked an epoch in his spiritual progress. In 1829 he commenced medical practice at Utica. Here he was chosen an elder of the First Presbyterian Church, and discharged the duties of the office with great fidelity and acceptance. During one summer of his residence here, the cholera prevailed extensively, and in its most malignant form; and the doctor, while labouring . night and day, especially among the poor, who found it difficult to command medical aid, had well-nigh fallen a victim to it himself In 1834, the American Board of Commissioners of Foreign Mis- sions, held their annual meeting in Utica. It had been for some time a matter of great interest with them to find a suitable person to engage as physician in the Nestorian mission ; and it began to be impressed on Dr. Grant's mind that possibly this was a providential opening for him. After deliberating much on the subject, and using every means within his reach to ascertain his duty, he finally resolved to devote himself to the work; and accordingly offered himself in the capacity of a physician to the Board. They cheerfully accepted his proposal, and he was occupied during the ensuing winter chiefly ill making the necessary preparations for leaving home. ASAHEL GRANT. 397 In April, 1835, lie was married to Miss Judith S. Campbell, daugh- ter of Dr. William Campbell, of Cherry Valley, N. Y. She had long had a decided predilection for the missionary work, and the event proved that she possessed qualifications for it of the highest order. Shortly after their marriage, they took leave of their friends, and proceeded to Boston for the purpose of embarking for foreign shores. They sailed in the brig Angola, bound for Smyrna, on the 11th of May, bearing letters of introduction to the missionaries there from Mr. Yan Lennep, then a student in Amherst college, and since a missionary in the East, and son-in-law to the Rev. Dr. Hawes of Hartford. They arrived at Smyrna on the 28th of June, after a passage of forty-eight days from Boston. After remaining there four days, they embarked in an Austrian steamer for Constanti- nople, where they arrived on the 4th of July, and were cordially welcomed by Commodore Porter, the Rev. Mr. Goodell and several other missionaries. They remained here, — part of the time in Com- modore Porter's family, — about six weeks, and were greatly gratified, as well by the hospitality which they experienced as by the many interesting objects and novel usages by which they were surrounded. From Constantinople they went by a schooner to Trebizond ; and thence in a caravan they proceeded overland to Kurdistan. The journey was made not without considerable peril; but it was one of great interest, and carried them near the base of Mount Ararat. On their arrival at Ooroomiah, Mr. Perkins, the missionary, did his utmost to make their situation pleasant, and especially to bring them acquainted with persons whom it was desirable that they should know. Almost immediately the}'- had an opportunity of attending a wedding in company with the venerable Bishop Mar Yohanna, who has since travelled in this country; and while they were greatly entertained by the novel and protracted ceremony, they were most agreeably impressed by the expressions from the people of good- will towards them, and of interest in the objects of their mission. Dr. Grant immediately commenced his labours as a physician, though with his care for the body he united also a still greater care for the soul. He had many cases of ophthalmia, and had great suc- cess in treating them ; so that it was not uncommon for persons who came to him blind to return seeing. In the beginning of June, 1836, Mrs, Grant became the mother of a son, whom they called Henry Martin. In the autumn of the same year, he was visited with two or three attacks of fever, and, 898 ASAHEL GRANT. shortly after, was brought to the verge of the grave bj cholera. lie had all the extreme symptoms, insomuch that his death was hourly expected; but a gracious Providence interposed for his restoration. Mr. Perkins, his missionary associate, was severely ill about the same time, and continued in a feeble state, after Dr. Grant had so far recovered as to be able to resume, in some degree, his labours. In consequence of this, the whole care of the mission, for some time, devolved upon him. It was a severe trial to Dr. Grant, in engaging in the mission, to be obliged to submit to a separation from his two little boys, the children of his first marriage; but he could not doubt that the prov- idence of God called him to the sacrifice. They were, however, continually upon his mind and his heart, and the letters which ho wrote to them, and to his other friends in respect to them, showed that the effect of a separation from them was any thing else than to blunt his parental sensibilities. In August, 1838, he had to communicate to his friends the news of the birth of two daughters. At the same time, he informed them that his own health was precarious, and indeed it had never been fully restored from the time that he suffered so severely from the cholera His little boy also was suffering much from the climate, and his wife had for some time been in an exceedingly dubious state. But in the midst of all these untoward circumstances, his heart was fixed, trusting in the Lord. He did not then, nor did he ever, regret for a moment, his having given himself to the missionary cause; for he had always the fullest conviction that he had followed the leadings of Providence, and the most unwavering confidence that his labours and sacrifices would not be in vain in the Lord. On the 3d of January, 1839, Mrs. Grant was attacked by one of the fevers of the country, which, after eleven days, had a fatal issue. She was greatly sustained by the hopes of the gospel, in the prospect of her departure, and left the world in full confidence of entering upon the heavenly rest. Not only was her death most deeply lamented by the members of the mission family, but the Nestorians and Mohammedans manifested intense grief, and acknowledged that they had lost one of their best friends. Her calm and triumphant death was a matter of surprise, especially to the deluded followers of the false prophet, who are accustomed to forbear looking at death as long as they can, and when they see it approaching, to contem- plate it only with the deepest consternation. ASAHEL GRANT. 399 In the course of tliis year Dr. Grant made a somewhat extensive tour of exploration, in many respects of great interest, and yet attended with considerable peril. In the city of Mardin in Mesopo- tamia, he and his fellow-traveller Mr. Homes had well nigh lost their lives. A company of blood-thirsty Koords killed several of the chief men of the city, and made inquisition for them also, intending that they should share a similar fate; but a kind Providence so ordered it that they had left the city a short time before the com- motions took place. Finding, on their return, that the gates were closed, and that there had been a scene of bloodshed in their absence, they immediately retired to a convent, distant about four miles, where they were kindly welcomed and entertained by the Syrian patriarch, with whom they had previously formed an acquaintance. Mean- while, a large party of Koords were in pursuit of them ; and having ascertained that they had gone to the Syrian convent, set out in that direction, with a determination either to take their lives or to destroy the convent. As they were on their way to do this desperate work, it happened to occur to some of them to inquire, what injury the men whom they were pursuing had done to them ; whereupon they soon became divided among themselves, and one after another left the party, until the murderous purpose was finally abandoned. Hoping that they might have returned to the city in the evening, some of them went to their lodgings that night; and subsequently they made a search for their property ; but to no purpose. After remaining a week with the patriarch. Dr. Grant ventured into the city, dressed in the native costume, with a view to make preparation for proceeding on his journey to Mosul, while Mr. Homes returned to Constantinople. After this adventure, Dr. Grant's journey, though laborious, was marked by many circumstances of great interest. The party with which he travelled was made up of Turks, Arabs, Koords, Nestorians, &c. ; and as he encamped in the tents of the Arabs, he had an oppor- tunity of witnessing many fine specimens of pastoral life. Having remained at Mosul seventeen days, in which time he made a most interesting visit to the ruins of Nineveh, he set out on the 7th of October, on a tour in Central Koordistan, or ancient Assyria, with a view to visit the Nestorian Christians, who dwelt in the almost inaccessible mountains of the barbarous Koords. This journey, which no European had ever made, he accomplished much to his .satisfaction, and after spending six or seven weeks among the 400 ASAHEL GRANT. Nestorian mountaineers, and gaining mucli information which he regarded as highly important to the missionary cause, he returned to Ooroomiah in the early part of December, He was generally treated with great kindness throughout the whole tour, and even the Koord- ish chiefs welcomed him as a benefactor, and expressed a wish that he might come and take up his residence among them. Though he endured considerable hardships, and was obliged to walk several days in succession on account of the badness of the roads, yet his health was, on the whole, benefited by the tour. In January, 1840, Dr. Grant was called to another severe affliction, in the death of both his infant daughters. One of them died of influenza on the 13th, the other of measles on the 27th. They were buried in one grave beside the remains of their mother. The letters in which he conveyed the sad intelligence to his friends at home, show at once a deeply stricken and a perfectly submissive spirit. For some time Dr. Grant had been seriously thinking of a visit to America, partly from a wish to see his children who remained here, and partly that he might confer with the Prudential Commit- tee in respect to his intended labours among the mountain tribes. The Board having given him permission to return, he left the field of his labours in the spring of 1840, and taking along with him his little boy, retraced his overland journey from Ooroomiah to the port of Trebizond. Here he embarked, stopped for a short time at Smyrna, and reached Boston after a perilous voyage of seventy days. As soon after his arrival as possible, he made his way to central New- York, carrying with him the son who had been born on mission- ary ground, to meet the two sons whom he had left behind. It is needless to say that it was an occasion which woke into the liveliest exercise the sensibilities of the father's heart. He made provision from his own funds for the education of his children, hoping that they might ere long become Christian missionaries, and join him in his labours on the mountains of Kurdistan. He had several conferences with the Prudential Committee of the American Board, which prom- ised to result most favourably for the mission in which he was engaged, and especially for his favourite enterprise in the mountains. He travelled extensively in different parts of the country, and addressed many congregations in behalf of his object with great earnestness, and no inconsiderable effect. He was also very considerably occupied in bringing out a work, entitled, "The Nestorians, or the Lost Tribes; containing Evidences of their Identity," &c. ; a work of which critics , ASAHEL GRANT. 401 have entertained different opinions, in regard to the soundness of its main position, but which all must acknowledge is the result of extended and laborious research. An edition of it was published in England, where it attracted great attention. Dr. Grant, having remained in the country about six months, embarked for England on his return to his missionary field. He sailed in the steamer that immediately succeeded the ill-fated "Pres- ident;" and had it not been for some disappointment which he expe- rienced in his preparation for leaving the country, he would have been on board that vessel, and would ever after have been only a subject for sad conjecture. After remaining a short time in England, he proceeded on his journey to Constantinople, thence to Erzroom and Van, two Turkish cities, and on the 25th of August, he reached Mosul. The journey was attended with no small danger from the bands of robbers by which the country was infested, and in one instance preparation was making for an assault upon the party, but the robbers were fright- ened by a false show of strength. He arrived at Mosul just in season to administer relief to his new missionary associate, the Rev. Mr. Hinsdale, whom he found suffering from a severe illness, which would probably have proved fatal, but for the seasonable adminis- tration of medical aid. In August, 1842, the Nestorians in the mountains, in whom Dr. Grant took so lively an interest, were invaded by an army of Koords and Turks on the north, who partially subdued several of the smaller tribes, and burned the house of the patriarch. They were subse- quently besieged by a Turko-Koordish army on the south and west, which was sent against them by the pasha of Mosul ; but this army was met with a vigorous resistance and suffered considerable loss in the repulse. Dr. Grant, however, predicted (and the event justified the prediction) that the matter would not end there; and that the sufferings to which the Nestorians had already been subjected were only a drop of the full cup that was to be wrung out to them. In September we find Dr. Grant once more a mountain pilgrim, and, so far as regards missionary associates, a solitary one. After traversing the mountains in almost every direction, he selected a site for a station, purchased a lot, and laid the corner-stone of a mission- house. He opened schools also on a small scale, engaged the best native teachers he could, and set himself to dispense with all fidelity tlie truths of the glorious gospel. lie recorded it at this time, as au 20 402 ASAHEL GKANT. occasion for great gratitude, that in the midst of so much privation and exposure, his health was remarkably good. Such was the favour which he had gained with the chief of the Koords, the patriarch, and the people generally, that he could engage in an enterprise of this kind with far more safety than any other person could have done. All that he was enabled to accomplish, however, he regarded as merely preparatory of what he hoped was to follow. But the hostile demonstrations which had been made against the Nestorians in the mountains were soon found to be only the begin- ning of evil. The tempest that had been gathering for many months, at length swept over them with the besom of destruction. Not only their ancient and venerable churches, but even their quiet dwellings, were laid low by the ruthless hand of the invader ; hundreds were cruelly slaughtered, and hundreds more were driven into captivity. Dr. Grant did every thing in his power for the relief of those who survived, and even periled his life in their behalf: it was impossible, however, that he should continue his missionary labours in the mountains; but the miserable inhabitants came down into the plains, where he had still an opportunity of labouring for both their tem- poral and spiritual well being. Here he gathered the children and youth into a school, administered medicine to the sick and food to the starving, and endeavoured, above all, to convince them of their spiritual malady, and bring them to apply to tlie Great Physician. In the early part of 1844, Dr. Grant, by advice of Dr. Anderson, and in accordance with his own wishes, resolved on another visit to this country: while he was desirous of looking after the interests of his children, he was impressed with the idea that, by taking more time than he had allowed himself on his previous visit, to travel over the country and communicate information, he might render more important service to the cause than he could in any other way. Accordingly, he wrote to his mother towards the close of March, informing her that his arrangements were made to revisit his friends in America, and that at no distant period, he hoped to see her face again. But the expectation which he awakened and that which he cherished were alike vain. In less than a fortnight from the date of that letter he was prostrated by a violent disease, and in just one month he had finished his earthly course. The disease of which he died was a typhus fever. He was taken unwell on the 5th of April, but it was not till after two days that his illness assumed a serious aspect. For several days after that, he ASAHEL GRANT. 40S "was able to converse freely, and to counsel in respect to his own case, though it was evident that every day the disease was gaining ground. On the last day that he was able to attend to any business. or to converse about general matters, he received letters from home, containing many interesting details in respect to his children. From this time he declined more rapidly until Sunday morning, the 14th, when he called a friend to his bedside, and requested that they might join in a prayer for the mission, which had been thus put back by the calamities which had overtaken the Nestorians. This was prob ably his last season of intelligent devotion ; and during the ten days which intervened between that time and his death, his mind was constantly in a wandering state. His funeral took place the day after he died, the service being conducted by Mr. Laurie, a brother missionary. Several bishops and priests, and the Nestorian patriarch, were present, and took part in the service. His remains were depos- ited in the same tomb with those of the Eev. Mr. Hinsdale and Mrs. Laurie, who had died some time before. There was great lamentation throughout the neighbourhood occasioned by his death, and the Nes- torian patriarch, in speaking of it, said, "I have lost my people in the mountains, and now my dearest friend is gone — what shall I do?" In this brief sketch, we have purposely omitted all reference to the causes of the wars between the Koordish chiefs and the patriarch, which had such a disastrous termination. Dr. Grant alludes to this subject with great feeling in some of his letters; and the general facts are doubtless within the recollection of most of the friends of the missionary cause. Dr. Grant may be said to have been an uncommonly fine speci- men of a man, a Christian, and a missionary. In his person, he was of about the usual size and stature. His features were regular, his forehead high and shaded with dark locks, and his whole appear- ance at once attractive and commanding. He had a voice of great depth, and compass, and melody, and his utterance was uncom- monly distinct and deliberate. His manners were dignified and polished, and his general bearing in society every way agreeable. Ilis intellectual powers also were of decidedly a superior order. He had a memory at once quick and retentive; but while he care- fully treasured up the valuable thoughts of others, they were not suffered to remain in his mind as a mass of indigested materials, but were used as a help to independent reflection. From his early childhood, he evinced an uncommonly inquisitive mind, and was •iO-i ASAHEL GRANT. sure to gather knowledge from every source within his reach. His work on the "Nestorians," is the result not only of great research, but of mature and well-digested thought; and independently of the theory which it maintains, it must remain a monument to the honour of the intellect that produced it. In his moral constitution, he was not less favoured than in his intellectual. He possessed warm and generous sensibilities, which were always awake to the story of human want or wo. He had an affectionate and confiding spirit, that made him a most loving and valued friend. He was bold, and earnest, and persevering, while yet he was not impetuous or incautious. He possessed great mag- nanimity also — never rendering evil for evil, or imputing bad motives where good ones might be supposed, or refusing to ac- knowledge true excellence, even though it were associated with great faults or infirmities. But it is not easy to distinguish accurately in his case, between the workings of nature and of grace ; for it cannot be doubted that his naturally fine moral qualities were all improved and exalted by the influence of religion. His Christian character was evidently formed after the highest evangelical standard — with the low standards of the world he had nothing to do — his single aim manifestly was to do all things to the glory of God, and reach the fullness of the stature of a perfect person in Christ. Though his domestic attach- ments were unusually strong, they were always manifestly kept in subordination to his attachment to Christ and his cause; and hence, when he was called to leave his nearest friends, to sojourn in a for- eign land, with an uncertain prospect of seeing them again; or when his own dear fomily were taken from him, one by one, till his house was left to him nearly desolate, he discovered the most dignified Christian composure — it was enough for him to know that Infinite Wisdom had ordained these separations. He could rejoice in all his tribulation, in the full confidence that all the afilictions he experienced would work out for him a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. And the man and the Christian formed the missionary. It was a deep sense of Christian obligation that led him to give himself to the missionary work; for in doing so he had to sacrifice the most promising worldly prospects, and could anticipate nothing in ex- change but a life of privation and hardship ; and from the time that his missionary career began, or rather the purpose of being a mis- ASAHEL GRANT 405 sionarj was definitely formed, he was a man of one idea — the burden of his thoughts, his conversation, his letters, his prayers, his labours, was the giving of a pure Christianity to the people to whom he was sent, and their consequent improvement, exaltation and salvation. His mild and conciliatory and yet dignified manners disarmed pre- judice and hostility, and in some cases were no doubt, under Prov- idence, instrumental of saving his life. His labours were always up to the full measure of his ability, and not unfrequently beyond the point which prudence would have dictated. "When efforts were made by the professed friends of Christianity to embarrass him in his work, he discovered nothing of a revengeful spirit, but he looked at it chiefly as an indignity offered to his Saviour. When he was driven from one field of labour, he hastened to another — persecu- tion might embarrass and annoy, but it could not intimidate him or keep him idle. The malady of which he died found him actively engaged in a ministration of charity; and the last intelligent prayer that proceeded from his lips was in behalf of the scattered and stricken people whose temporal and spiritual wants he was endeav- ouring to meet. The news of the death of Dr. Grant fell heavily upon the hearts of his friends in this country, and upon the hearts of the friends of Evangelical missions every where. His peculiar position, in con- nection with his rare endowments, and perilous but in some degree successful adventures, had drawn the eyes of rnultitudes towards him ; and perhaps, at the moment that he fell, there were few mission- aries in any field, from whose labours more was expected than from his. But the Master called him to heaven, when our wishes and jarayers would have detained him on earth; as if to show us that the ultimate success of his cause depends upon himself, and that the most polished and best-adapted instrument may be broken, and still the great spiritual building which he is rearing may go on, not less rapidly than if that goodly instrument had been retained. JOHN WILLIAMS. John Williams was born at Tottenham High Cross, near Lon- don, June 29th, 1796. His early education was limited chiefly to reading, writing and arithmetic, the accomplishments necessary for a commercial life, for which he was intended. He learned a little of the classics, and showed a degree of mental activity and pene- tration beyond the most of his associates, but the traits by which he was distinguished in maturer life, were imperfectly developed and scarcely suspected. The instructions of a pious mother preserved him from the formation of evil habits, and gave his mind a devo- tional bent, which had the happiest influence on his conduct in the most critical period of life. In his fourteenth year he was apprenticed to Mr. Tonkin, a fur- nishing ironmonger, an arrangement which introduced him to an employment which proved excellently adapted to his powers, and to a pious family by whose influence he was led into the way of life, and prepared for the distinguished usefulness to which he afterwards attained. His indenture provided for his instruction only in the commercial department of the business, the sales and purchases, without subjecting him to mechanical labour. But he had a decided partiality for the employments from which he was thus exempted. While faithfully attending to his duties at the desk and in the ware- room, he was ever pleased to stand in the work-shop and observe the processes of the manufacture. Tiiere he set himself, after his day's task was over, to imitate what he had observed. His master noticed this with pleasure, as it was done at no expense of his proper duties. In no long time the ingenious apprentice had acquired not only a competent knowledge of the business to which he was par- ticularly directed, but excelled in the mechanical department, and was at length occasionally requested to execute work that required peculiar delicacy and exactness of finish. His fidelity and upright- ness were unimpeachable, his moral character unblemished. During a considerable part of his apprenticeship he was trusted with nearly the whole management of the business. 4.08 JOHN WILLIAMS. Unliappilj the religious promise of his boyhood was obscured He ceased to take delight in the Scriptures or in public worship. Though he attended the service of the sanctuary with his parents, out of filial duty, the Lord's day was a weariness. He showed a thoroughly worldly spirit, and, as he avers, "often scoffed at the name of Christ and his religion," — a confession he was too ingenu- ous to make for effect. Ilis mother marked his progress in the "broad way " with painful anxiety, which drove her to continual intercession on his behalf, that those instructions which he so reck- lessly slighted might be made effectual by divine power to the renewing of his spirit. He continued unmoved till his eighteenth year, when his course was arrested, and his feet were turned into the way of life. lie had formed a practice of spending his Sunday evenings, with a number of companions in pleasure, at a tavern near his master's residence. An ap])ointraent had been made for the evening of Jan- uary oOth, 181-1, which his associates failed to keep. AVhile waiting for them near the place agreed upon, and vexed at their tardiness, he was observed by Mrs. Tonkin as she was on her way to evening worship at the Tabernacle. She inquired the object of his visit there, reproved him for such a misuse of the hours of the Sabbath, and invited him to accompany her. He complied, rather from dis- appointment at the neglect of his friends than from any desire to hear preaching. The pulpit was occupied by Eev. Timothy East, of Birmingham, who preached a weighty discourse from the words, "What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" Its effect upon his mind was decisive. He forsook his evil compan- ions, gave himself assiduously to the improvement of the means of grace, and it became evident in no long time that he had indeed become "a new creature." He was a decided, practical Christian, never setting his feelings above his duties, nor suffering what he regarded as the solemn business of life to degenerate into mere sentiment. He was received into the church in September, and thenceforth maintained an exemplary profession of his faith. A society known as the "Youth's Class," consisting of about thirty members, connected with the Tabernacle congregation, met weekly for mutual discussion and for devotional purposes, by his connection with which John Williams made much improvement in knowledge, especially of Christian truth and duty. He was also a JOHN WILLIAMS. 409 faithful and useful Sabbatli-scliool teacher. It was in this capacit\' that he made his first public addresses, and gave indications of his fitness for more extended and public service in the church. In these and otRer religious and benevolent agencies he was active and inde- fatigable. While thus engaged, he began to receive impressions concerning the state of the heathen world that forbade him to con- tent himself with the measure of Christian usefulness whereto he had attained. The Tabernacle Auxiliary to the London Missionary Society was in a flourishing state, and its meetings, which were held quarterly, did much to diffuse among the congregation an intelligent sympathy with the cause. The mind of John Williams was too active and ardent to be the last in such a work, and before long he felt a desire to go himself into the dark places of the earth. He concealed it in his own breast for some time, then cautiously dis- closed it to intimate friends, and finally consulted his affectionate pastor, the Eev. Matthew Wilks. Mr. Wilks satisfied himself that the youthful applicant was a fit person to undertake the service, and received him among a circle of students for the ministry, whom he instructed gratuitously. He made rapid progress, and by the advice of his kind teacher offered himself to the Directors of the Mission- ary Society in July, 1816, by whom he was unanimously received as a missionary. His imperfect preparation made it exceedingly desirable that his departure should be delayed till he could complete a more thorough course of study. But the society was pressed by calls for labourers from all parts, especially from South Africa and Polynesia. The case was so urgent that it seemed better to send men insufficiently trained than to wait for the termination of their studies. On this view they acted. Mr. Tonkin was induced to give up his apprentice, whose term had several months to run, and ]\Ir. Williams was given only about four months in which to complete his arrangements. He would gladly have pursued his studies longer, but felt the force of the reasons that led the directors to deviate from the policy which experience has shown to be generally essen- tial to the most efficient conduct of missions, — the employment of thoroughly educated missionaries. He diligently improved the limited opportunity afforded him, not only to prosecute his literary and theological investigations, but to make himself acquainted with different departments of industry. It was his settled purpose to accompany religious teaching with such instruction in the useful arts as should contribute at once to the moral and social improve- 410 JOHN WILLIAMS. merit of the islanders to wlioin he was sent. He was married in October, to a woman admirably fitted to be his companion in mis- sionary labours, as she had been in the spheres of usefulness in which he walked so steadily at home. He was ordained, with his three colleagues, Messrs, Darling, Piatt and Bourne, and four others desig- nated for the South African Mission, and on the 17th of November. 1816, the company embarked for the South Seas. Mr. Williams took leave of his friends tenderly, yet cheerfully, and set out full of hope on his errand of mercy. A fine run of five weeks brought the vessel to Rio Janeiro. After remaining three weeks, they sailed for New South Wales. In con- sequence of a detention of five weeks at Hobart's Town, they did not reach Sydney till May 12th, 1817, and here they were obliged to wait till the following September for a passage to Tahiti. They set sail on the 4th, and in eight days came in sight of New-Zealand, but before reaching anchorage a heavy gale drove them three hun- dred miles out of their course. Eleven days after, they had retraced their course, and Avere sheltered in the Bay of Islands. Ilei'e they enjoyed for nineteen days the society of the missionaries, who were just beginning to perceive some effect of those labours which have since done so much for the New-Zealanders. Taking leave of these brethren, they departed for their destination"; and arrived on the 17th of November, just twelve months after their original embarkation. The missions in Polynesia are among the most interesting that have been undertaken in modern times. The discovery of such an immense number of islands before unsuspected, the strange charac- ter of their inhabitants and productions, with all the romantic tales engendered of maritime adventure in those regions, produced a pro- found sensation in England; and it is not to be wondered at that those who survey the world with an eye instructed by the word of God, looking intently for providential tokens to guide the enterprises of Christian benevolence, should have recognised such a token in these discoveries. Among others, the Countess of Huntington was greatly affected in view of the condition of the people inhabiting the Pacific isles. She longed to see the gospel conveyed to them, and on her death-bed charged her chaplain, Rev. Dr. Haweis, not to lose sight of this object. When the London Missionary Society was organized, in 1795, and the question arose, to what part of the world their efforts should JOHN WILLIAMS. 411 be first directed, Dr. Haweis was requested to prepare a memoir on this subject, and while mindful of the claims of other heathen, the magnitude of which so far transcended the means at the disposal of the society, concluded that the South Seas should be the first object of attention. Commercially or politically considered, it may be that his decision would be disputed, though even in this aspect recent events have given to Polynesia an importance not imagined at that time. But if the primary object of missions has regard, as it surely has, to a kingdom which is not of this world, the absence of political greatness, which has done so much to fetter and resist the progress of Christianity, was a circumstance not altogether unfavourable. Keep- ing in mind the chief end just indicated, if the claims of a people are to be measured by their need, the degradation of the islanders made an urgent appeal to the churches; if the absence of exterior obstacles to evangelization were an inducement, no fairer field than those that deck the South Pacific could be sought; and if it were desirable to put the power of the gospel to the severest test, its contact with savages so debased was the very test required. The stupidity of the Hottentot, the cruelty of the Malay, the effeminacy of the Hindoo, presented noth- ing more hopeless than such a combination of sensuality, superstition, and unnatural cruelty, as the first missionaries of this society encoun- tered— and overcame "by the word of their testimony." Tahiti, the first scene of their efforts, together with some other of the Society Islands, at the time of Mr. Williams' arrival, had already begun to give proof of the energy which resides in the gospel, when preached in faith and in dependence on the Spirit's effectual working. Idolatry was abolished. The people, though not generally Chris- tians except in name, were eager for instruction, and some were gathered in church-fellowship, for which their consistent lives demonstrated their fitness. Public, social and family worship were attended regularly to a considerable extent. Compared with what had been observed on the commencement of the mission and for years afterwards, it might be truly said that the desert was blossom- ing like the rose. Mr. Williams' first impressions were of the most pleasing kind. A view of the neat chapel at Eimeo, the island on which he was first stationed, the sound of praise going up from every dwelling around it, morning and evening, and the general decorum which marked the people, all conspired to awaken admiration and gratitude. It seemed incredible that he was on heathen ground. He hardly thought he was needed there. Further observation chas- 412 JOHN WILLIAMS. tened these feelings. It was clear that a large majority of the peo- ple, while attached in no common measure to the missionaries, as persons to whom they were greatly indebted, and though to some extent interested in learning the truth, were by no means subjected to its power. They were still slaves to their depraved passions, "lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God." Enough had been accomplished to reward the exertions already bestowed on the field, to show the vitality of the seed sown and the fertility of the soil, to stimulate to increased and persevering industry, and to confirm the faith in which the sowers had gone forth to sow. Mr. Williams remained some months at Eimeo, assisting the mis- sionaries and acquiring the language. His first work, however, was of a mechanical kind, in the building of a small vessel for more convenient communication between the several islands. He executed the iron work, and in ten days she was completed and successfully launched. In the study of the language he placed little reliance on. grammars or lexicons, but went about familiarly conversing with the people. A power of nice and rapid observation and a retentive memory made him more successful in the application of this method than many would have been. Within ten months from his arrival at Eimeo, to the surprise of his associates, he was able to preach intelligibly. His first sermon was delivered on the island of Hua- hine, one of the Leeward Islands, to which he was borne by one of those providential agencies so often noted in the history of missions, testifying the facility with which Divine sovereignty overrules the wrath of man to the praise of God. A rebellion against the government of King Pomare in Tahiti had summoned a number of the chiefs of Huahine to aid in restoring the royal authority. After their work was successfully concluded, there was a marked increase of interest in religion, in which these chiefs participated. They remained for a considerable time, unwill- ing to return without further light. The missionaries naturally regarded them with special attention, and gladly seized on an oppor- tunity to extend the triumphs of the truth. It was determined to establish a mission in Huahine, and Mr. Williams was despatched on the 18th of June, 1818, in company with Rev. Messrs. Ellis and Orsmond and their families, the chiefs and an interpreter. They were joyfully welcomed by the people, who did every thing they could for their comfort. The arrival of the missionaries was soon made known through Huahine and the other islands of the group. JOHN WILLIAMS. 413 Numerous visiters came, some prompted bj curiosity and some by worthier motives. Among them was Tamatoa, the King of Eaiatea, who came with his principal chiefs to solicit missionaries to reside among his people. Mr. "Williams was much interested in the inci- dent, and sent to his older colleagues to advise in the matter. Others not being ready to go, he decided to leave Huahine, with its fair promise, and to commence still another mission. To this he was moved by a particular consideration of the relation of Eaiatea to the other Society Islands. Eaiatea is the largest and most central island of the group, about fifty miles in circumference, encircled by a reef with inlets admitting the largest ships to a lagoon that offers safe anchorage. Its moun- tainous character makes it remarkable among the lower and more beautiful isles, in the midst of which it rises with sombre magnifi- cence. Though fertile and attractive, the population had been reduced by war and the cruelties of superstition to about thirteen hundred. Its importance as a missionary station was by no means to be measured by the number of its inhabitants. It had been the centre of political and religious influence to a large circle. Its kings had long received homage and tribute of the chiefs both of the Society and Georgian islands, and had even been the objects of religious veneration. It was, moreover, the capital of superstition to a large part of Polynesia, — their Mecca, or Eome. The abomina- ble rites, whose pollution and cruelty have devastated "the island- world of the Pacific," went forth from Eaiatea. This was the fortress, the very citadel of the enemy, and it is no matter of surprise that Mr. Williams was eager to enter it, the more so as his way was already prepared. Two years before, a vessel having on board King Pomare, nine Tahitians and Mr. Wilson, one of the missiona- ries, was driven by a violent gale to Eaiatea. They were hospitably received, and remained three months. During this time the gospel was for the first time spoken in the ears of that people. They list- ened with wonder, many turned away from the message, but some were attracted to it. Among them were King Tamatoa and a num- ber of his chiefs. They renounced their superstitious usages, and when the Christian company to whom they had been so far indebted left them, they erected a place of worship, observed the Lord's day, and met together to converse on the precious truths they had par- tially learned. They now came to ask for men who should teach til em "the way of the Lord more perfectly." 414 JOHN WILLIAMS. Taking with him as an associate Mr. Threlkeld, Mr. Williams proceeded in September to Eaiatea, and met a most hearty reception from numbers of the people. Their kindness to the missionaries was not indeed very intelligent. They called themselves Christians, because Tamatoa had made it the national religion, and frequented the place of worship in their neatest attire, listening to the preach- ing with an air that would impose on a stranger. But a near acquaintance speedily repressed the first admiration. Their idle- ness was invincible, and their moral state unutterably debased. Practices which it is not good to describe even by insinuation met the pitying eyes of their teachers daily. Argument was lost upon them. Added to the moral obstacles that impeded all effort for their improvement, they were sparsely scattered over so wide a sur- face that much time and wearisome toil were consumed in seeking them out from place to place. A bold attempt was made to remedy this evil. A general meeting of the inhabitants was convened. The missionaries explained to them the advantages of a more compact settlement. Various difficulties were made, but all objections were so successfully met that the plan was adopted with general unanimity. A site on the leeward side of the island was selected, a temporary chapel and school-house were built, and vigorous measures were taken to clear the ground for the occupation of the people. Mr. Williams, in making preparations for his own residence, determined to erect a good house in the English style, not so much for his personal satisfaction as to stimulate the natives to improve- ment. Their dwellings were mere thatched huts, each having only a single apartment, where the inmates without distinction of sex were huddled together on a carpet of dry grass, not always of the cleanest quality. To change their habits for the better, to introduce a style of houses suited to domestic comfort and morality, he knew could be best undertaken by way of example. Such a building as he erected was never before seen in Eaiatea. He had the work to do for himself, as the people were incompetent to do more than aid in collecting the materials. Great was the astonishment and admi- ration excited by a framed house, sixty feet by thirty, plastered within and without, the interior walls of a gray and orange colour, the area divided into seven apartments, well lighted, and shaded by Venetian blinds. A flower and kitchen garden, each handsomely laid out and well tended, a poultry-yard, and other useful and orna- mental accompaniments, completed a picture of rural beauty and JOHN WILLIAMS. 415 comfort worthy of any land. The furniture equall}^ attested his taste and skill. The effect was decided. The people were roused from their indolence, and beset him with solicitations to do or explain for them some process to which they were incompetent. Though it withdrew him from more important matters to some extent, he regarded his own building and his mechanical instructions as neces- sary and useful. It would have been no difficult matter to content himself with a hut one or two removes from the character of the native hovels, but, as he expressed it, "the missionary does not go to barbarize himself, but to elevate the heathen; not to sink himself to their standard, but to elevate them to his." Still he was by no means neglectful of the great purpose that sent him there. During the utmost pressure of secular cares he worked diligently at his spiritual calling. He attended the school daily, preached every week, and, to prevent distraction, worked on his house only three days out of six. His sitting-room was every even- ing filled with persons seeking information, proposing difficulties or asking advice. In a year from his arrival he was able to report that a settlement of a thousand people had been gathered, their dwellings ranging about two miles along the beach. Several neat houses had been built in a civilized style, and improved social habits had begun to take root. A place of worship had been erected on the island of Tahaa, ten miles distant, within the same reef that encloses Eaiatea. Industry, thrift and neatness were turning the desert into a garden. All this, however, would have been impossi- ble but for the powerful motives drawn from the gospel, with which the people were assiduously plied. By the school, the ministrations of the sanctuary, and unwearied private instruction and admonition, the minds of all were more or less impregnated with the life-fraught truth. In aid of these efforts the printing-press, which had been set up at Huahine, did wonders. Eight hundred copies of the Gos- pel of Luke, and a supply of elementary books, were sent over, and excited among the people a general desire to read. Nearly all the adult inhabitants attended the school, and men with grey hairs mioht have been seen mastering the alphabet in company with the young- est children. It was obvious that without some reform in the government, the improvement of the people could not be permanent. Security of person and property and an equal administration of justice were indispensable. Yet it was not easy to see how the chiefs were to be 416 JOHN WILLIAMS. induced to give up their despotic prerogatives. The business was a deHcate one, but was successfally undertaken. Stories about Eng- land always found attentive listeners, and the missionaries took occasion to relate, as far as they could intelligibly do so, some- thing of the laws, polity and jurisprudence of their native land. Their words sunk into the hearts of their auditors, and at length the chiefs voluntarily assembled, sent for the missionaries, and asked their aid in framing more righteous and equitable laws. One of the worst abuses was the frequency of divorces on the most frivolous causes, or more frequently from no motive but personal caprice. This was at once arrested, and some twenty couples who had sepa- rated in this manner were commanded to reunite. They complied, and most of them lived very happily together, to the manifest increase of social harmony and good order. The missionaries were freely accused by their enemies, — more especially by seamen who found their licentious indulgences checked by the new order of things, — of having interfered arbitrarily with the government. Sup- pose they had ; their power being exerted to eradicate immorality and crime, could only have been obnoxious to those who made the ignorant islanders the prey of their corrupt passions. But the charge is absurd. Three or four men, without military force, can- not revolutionize a nation, even of so few as thirteen hundred souls. It would have been an easy matter to make the intruders food for fishes, or for a cannibal banquet, had the people not been won by their affectionate and disinterested teachings. For a considerable time the chiefs continued their political delib- erations, which resulted in the digest of a code of laws, the settling of a judicial system including trial by jury, the appointment of judges and executive officers. All was publicly discussed in a gen- eral meeting of the inhabitants. No law or official appointment was passed without first being freely canvassed and approved by the Assembly. So that, though nominally monarchical or aristocratic, the government bore a near resemblance to the "fierce democratic" of Athens in its actual administration. The throne of Tamatoa might be said, with more literal truth than it was said of Louis Philippe's, to have been "surrounded by republican institutions." These important measures, except the one last mentioned, were completed within the first year of the existence of the mission. Its success had been striking and immediate beyond all previous exam- [ile, though subsequent events in the Pacific have somewhat famil- JOHN WILLIAMS. 417 iarized the Christian public to the spectacle of rapid transformations in the people of Polynesia. It must not be supposed that the reli- gious progress of the Raiateans corresponded with their outward advance. A stranger would have been charmed at the aspect of the Sabbath congregations, the schools, the dress and dwellings of the people, their growing skill in the useful arts, and the general deco- rum that 7-eigned among them. But, with few exceptions, they knew little of the truth or the spiritual power of the gospel. They had renounced their old religion, and had adopted the profession and the forms of Christianity en masse. They saw the temporal benefits of Christian institutions, and had some dim notion of its promised bless- ings in respect to other worlds than this. With a prompt benevo- lence that attested the simplicity of their "little faith," they formed (also within the eventful first year of the mission, an appropriate close of such a season) an auxiliary missionary society, to aid in giving the gospel to others. King Tamatoa was at the head of this association, and both by precept and example encouraged the mem- bers to liberality. At the same time he warned them against neglecting their own salvation while working for others'. He reminded them that many who helped build the ark may have been drowned in the flood. "Let us not," he exclaimed, "be like the scaffolding, which is useful in building the house, but is afterwards thrown into the fire." The next year, besides the enactment of the new code of laws, witnessed the erection of a new church and court-house, both under one roof, making the entire structure one hundred and ninety- one feet by forty-four ; about forty feet of the length was partitioned off for the temple of justice, leaving the church about one hundred and fifty feet long. It was, like Mr, Williams' dwelling, made in the European style as far as it could be, and in the excellence and completeness of its interior arrangements it was superior to any previous architectural achievement in the South Seas. Mr. Williams likewise set up a sugar-mill, the sugar-cane being indigenous, regard- ing it as a business that might be advantageously and steadily pursued by the people. They had already become so expert in mechanical labour, that he had none of the more laborious work to do, though they had not attained to much beauty of finish. The settlement was alive with lime-burning, sugar-boiling, boat-building, house-building, joiner}' and furniture-making, and iron-craft of dif- ferent kinds; women were equally busy in employments proper to 27 418 JOHN WILLIAMS. their sex. The school was flourishing, and the missionaries had abundant opportunity for proclaiming divine truth to attentive audi- tors. A few, as was natural, found no happiness in the altered state of things. They hated the restraint on their evil passions, and went so far as to plot the murder of Tamatoa and the missionaries. But their designs were discovered; the conspirators were sentenced to death, but at the intercession of the missionaries, the sentence was commuted to banishment to an uninhabited island. In their advice upon the code, the missionaries had not taken the responsibility of recommending capital punishment, and forbore suggesting any law in regard to murder or treason. The chiefs and people, without waiting for advice, now promulgated a statute making those oifences capital. The opening of the church was signalized by the anniversary meeting of the auxiliary missionary societ3\ The contributions were eleven thousand bamboos of cocoa-nut oil, which brought on sale, after deducting freight and other charges, £500. The excite- ment of novelty, a spirit of ostentation, and other exceptionable motives, undoubtedly swelled the contributions out of all proportion to the degree of Christian benevolence possessed by the donors; but after making all necessary deductions, the fact is one of rare interest. The same month witnessed the first public profession of Christian faith, — the admission of seventy persons to the initiatory rite of Christianity.* A small church was soon after constituted. Much as had been accomplished, Mr. Williams began to be dis- satisfiedVith his position. The smallness of the population, which was still diminishing yearly, contrasted with the myriads who were destitute of the word of life, made his sphere seem contracted. It looked like a needless expenditure of men and means to keep three * How many of these were regarded as true converts, giving evidence of regenera- tion, it is not possible to state. The churc-h numbered in 1822 thirty persons. Mr. Williams, in defining "the principles on which we baptized them," says: "We admit all who appear cordially to receive the gospel, who regularly attend divine ordi- nances, and in whose conduct there is nothing immoral." It may be remarked, in passing, that the diversity of practice in this matter needs to be continually borne in mind, in considering reports of missionary success. American missionaries, except those sent out by churches that adopt the contrary course at home as well as abroad, are very generally agreed in .admitting no adult to either of the sacraments until good presumptive proofs of a spiritual change appear. Hence the report that a cer- tain number " were baptized," in most cases, signifies much less in reports of many English missions than the same phraseology would do when uttered by the lUMJority of Anil rican missionaries. JOHN WILLIAMS. 419 missionary families busied on a population of little more than a thou- sand souls. He was only twentj-four years old, and might hope to be useful many years in another country. These feelings he frankly communicated to the Directors, and was near committing the impro- priety of breaking his engagements by quitting his station without their assent. But the departure of one of his colleagues, leaving the care of the mission exclusively in the hands of himself and Mr. Threlkeld, gave him more occupation, and an event shortly after occurred which opened a new enterprise to his view. The island of Kurutu, about three hundred and fifty miles south of Raiatea, was visited by a very fatal epidemic. Two chiefs, with as many of their followers as they could take with them, set out in boats to flee to some happier isle, from an infliction which the}' all attributed to the anger of their gods. They reached the island of Tubuai, where they recruited their strength and courage. Attempt- ing to return, they were overtaken by a storm, in which one party perished. The others were driven for weeks they knew not whither, and, after suffering greatly from hunger, were cast on one of the Society Islands. Here they were hospitably received, and learned what changes had taken place among that people. Desirous of seeing the foreign teachers' who had brought such strange and excellent doctrines among them, they set out for that purpose, and found their way to Raiatea. The wonders of that island astonished them. They placed themselves at once under instruction. During three months that they remained there, the chief Auuru and several others learned t(j read and write. An English vessel offered them a passage home, which they gladly accepted; but the chief desired that teachers should accompany them. He was unwilling, he said, to return to "their land of darkness without a light in his hand." Two mem- bers of the congregation offered to go, and were set apart for that purpose. With some elementary books, copies of the Gospels, and a few necessary mechanical implements, they departed on their mis- sion. The people of Rurutu received them gladly, and in a little more than a month they transmitted to Raiatea, as trophies of their first victory, the rejected gods of Rurutu. Idolatry was abolished. This event led Mr. Williams to dismiss all thoughts of forsaking his station. It assumed a new importance as a centre from which the truth might be radiated far into the surrounding darkness. He proposed the plan which has proved so successful, of a missionary 420 JOHN WILLIAMS. ship expressly to convey missionaries and teachers from island to island, facilitating intercourse between the several Christian commu- nities and tlic means of communicating with others. The continued liberality of their congregation in contributing for missionary pur- poses confirmed his views, and he shortly revoked his application for leave to withdraw. A severe sickness threatened to compel him to go, just when he felt most desirous to remain; happily he was spared the pain of such a separation from his work. The tidings of his mother's death reached him about this time, an affliction which he felt more than his bold and steady demeanour and constitutional cheerfulness would permit a casual acquaintance to suspect before- hand. The sensitiveness of his nature was really exquisite, and he gave vent to his emotions in words surcharged with grief. A return of his malady compelling a voyage home, or at least of some distance, he repaired to Sydney, New South Wales, taking with him teachers for the island of Aitutaki, of which he had heard from Auuru, These were well received by the people, to whom he explained the purpose of their visit. At Sydney he made arrange- ments for the cultivation of sugar and tobacco as articles of com- merce, and purchased a variety of useful articles that he wished to introduce among the people. He also purchased the "Endeavour," a vessel of from eighty to ninety tons. The Society's agent at first declined sanctioning such a purchase, but a ship he was determined to have, if necessary on his own pecuniary responsibility. By the death of his mother he inherited a small property, and this he was ready to sacrifice for an object so desirable. The agent finally agreed for the society to share the responsibility. Having accomplished his plans, he set out on his return, and was once more at Raiatea, with health and hopes invigorated, on the 6th of June, 1822. During his absence a plot, entered into by a few persons to overthrow the gov- ernment, had been discovered, and ten conspirators were convicted of treason ; but the punishment of death, at the intercession of Mr. Threlkeld, was commuted to hard labour during life. The year 1823 saw Mr. Williams embarking in those enterprises which arc so intimately associated with his name, and which his own vivacious pen has perpetuated. We have observed that the mission to llurutu gave to his mind a new impulse, which subse- quent events strengthened. The introduction of the gospel into Aitutaki, one of the Hervey Islands, suggested the possibility of JOHN WILLIAMS, 421 evangelizing the whole by similar agencies, and of extending the process to other groups. In his intercourse with Auuru he heard much of Rarotonga, an island thirty miles in circumference, and containing from six to seven thousand inhabitants. It had escaped the search of Captain Cook, and its situation was not accurately known, though often mentioned on the other islands, and as it appears once or twice visited by European vessels. All that he heard, made him exceedingly desirous to discover and enlighten the Rarotongans. Tidings now came that several of them were at Aitutaki, had there embraced Christianity, and desired to communi- cate it to their countrymen. The chiefs offered him the use of their vessel ; and as the health of Mrs. Williams, which was feeble, seemed to solicit an excursion to a more temperate climate, he set out on his first expedition to extend the reign of the gospel. With Mr. Bourne and six native teachers, he sailed for Aitutaki on the 4th of July. Ar- rived on the 9th, they learned that the people had so generally made profession of Christianity that scarcely an idolater was to be found; the Sabbath was strictly observed, and divine service punctually attended by the whole population, and that a chapel, two hundred feet long, was just ready to be opened. The change was marvellous. "Eighteen months ago," Mr. Williams observes, "they were the wild- est people I had ever witnessed : now they had become mild and do- cile, diligent and kind." They had been in fact cannibals, but were now learning, as fast as their circumstances would admit, the law of love. From Aitutaki he proceeded in search of Rarotonga, but after sailing five days was obliged to give up the enterprise, and make for some other port. The island of Mangaia was first visited. The people were shy, and made hostile demonstrations. After some parleying, the native teachers went on shore, but were immediately seized, plundered of every valuable article in their possession, stripped nearly naked, and placed in imminent peril, from which they were rescued with difficulty. Postponing further efforts on their behalf, the company next sailed to Atiu. Here they met with a more favour able reception, and idolatry was abolished both there and in neigh-, bouring islands of Mauke and Mitiaro. Roma-tane, the principle chief of Atiu, was able to give more definite intelligence as to the direction of Rarotonga, and they set out once more on their voyage of discovery. They were baffled by contrary winds for several days, and beat about till their provisions were nearly exhausted. An hour was fixed, within which, if the island was not discovered, they 422 JOHN WILLIAMS. were to turn back. In lialf an hour tlie clouds tliat liid its towering heights from their eyes were dispersed, and the object of their search was distinctly visible. Exultation at his success, admiration of the rocky mountains and luxuriant valleys that lay before him, and pity for the degraded savages who dwelt there, contended for mas- tery in the missionary's breast; and doubt as to the reception they might meet with, awakened no little solicitude in the minds of all. They "wondered and held their peace, to wit whether the Lord would make their journey prosperous or not." First appearances were favourable. Two teachers, accompanied by one of the Earotongans, went ashore, and communicated to a large assembly the wonders that had been wrought at Tahiti and the other islands, and told them they had come to instruct them in the same beneficent truths. All said it was well, and so cordial was the wel- come they received from a people dreaded as among the most cruel and debased in the Pacific, that all the teachers with their wives were lauded, Mr. Williams remaining on board till the next morning. Early in the morning the company returned with a sad tale. Tlie chiefs were quite ready to be taught, but claimed the wives of the teachers to adorn their wretched harems. The women had a narrow escape, not without suffering some personal violence, from the brutal licentiousness that assaulted them. With hopes quite cast down at this confirmation of what had been told them of the ferocity and degra- dation of the Earotongans, they were about to turn away, when one of the teachers offered to remain there alone, provided a coadjutor, whom he named, might be sent from Raiatea. AVith nothing but his clothes and books he was landed, in company with the natives who had been at Aitutaki, and who now professed Christianity. The island was visited about a year after by Messrs. Tyerman and Bennett, the deputation sent out by the society to report on their missions in the South Seas. The people had renounced idolatry, and were then engaged in building a large church. Laden with the spoils of Aitutaki, her rejected gods, Mr. Williams returned to Raiatea, displayed his trophies, and narrated the triumphs they had witnesed. Ilis zeal for the extension of the work into other abodes of superstition and cruelty was heightened, but just at this point his hopes received a serious blow. Commerce with New South Wales was annihilated, by a prohibitory duty laid on all the productions of the Leeward Islands, at the instigation of some mer- chants at Sydney, whose prior monopoly of trade was infringed by JOHN WILLIAMS. 423 the competition of men from whom till lately the j had feared nothing. All his schemes for promoting native industry and enterprise were crushed at once. A great motive for owning a vessel, that which could alone prevent the purchase from being a total pecuniary loss, was now at an end. It was laden with as choice an assortment of produce as could be stowed, and sent to Sydney, with orders to sell vessel and cargo on the best terms that could' be got. To complete liis embarrassment, the Directors of the Missionary Society censured his proceedings in this matter as entangling himself with "the affairs of this life" to an unsuitable degree. It was, to be sure, a bold measure, but the circumstances of the case required bold measures. The missionaries represented to the society that without a ship it was impracticable to visit in safety their outward stations, and of course to go to the islands beyond that were otherwise inaccessible. And unless this could be done, Mr. Williams could not content himself in the field he occupied. A missionary, he said, was never designed to gather a congregation of one or two hundred, and si'i down contented, Avhile thousands within a few miles were eating each other's flesh and drinking each other's blood. "For my own part, I cannot content myself within the narrow limits of a single reef: and, if means are not afforded, a continent would to me be infinitely preferable; for there, if you cannot ride, you can walk; but to these isolated islands a ship must carry you." — "Separately considered, and compared with other spheres, no one of these islands is worthy of the sacrifice of life and property devoted to it; but the ivliole of them, considered collectivel}^, are worthy of your utmost eiforts." It was further represented, that by owning a ship, the islands would be independent of trade with ordinary merchant ves- sels, and so be spared the mischiefs, the profligacy and tumult, that abandoned foreigners have occasioned at nearly every mission sta- tion in the Pacific. But his appeals were not responded to. The society could not spare the sum necessary to purchase a vessel, and tliought an appeal to the public at that time unadvisable. Pie therefore gave himself with fresh energy to his work at Eaiatea. The congregation was large; about six hundred had solemnly pro- fessed Christianity, of whom nearly sixty were exemplary communi- cants. An American vessel, laden with ardent spirits, tried in vain to sell or give away any part of the baleful cargo. But their settlement had proved ill-chosen, exposed to furious storms that laid waste their improvements continually. This circum- 424 JOHN WILLIAMS. Ktance, with the stagnation of their incipient commerce, exerted a depressing effect on the people. The missionaries saw with concern the tendency of things. Dreading a relapse into old habits of indo- lence they were gratified at hearing a new settlement suggested. This was carried into effect after careful deliberation, an excellent site was chosen on the windward side of the island, and the hum of busy industr}^ soon resounded along that hitherto deserted shore. Mr. Williams was in his element. The new village was almost as great an advance on the old as that had been on any thing before known in those regions. Great exertion was necessary to prevent the educational and religious institutions of the community from suffering under such circumstances, but they were successful ; every thing went forward with more than accustomed order. The auxil- iary missionary society flourished, and what was infinitely better, the number of communicants, admitted with the most cautious fidelity, increased to about one hundred and fifty. In this state of prosperity, Mr. Williams, on whom by the depart- ure of his colleague, Mr. Threlkeld, the cares of the station rested, most heartily rejoiced, as a fullness of reward beyond his best expectations. Good news, too, from Kurutu, Atiu, Aitutaki and Rarotonga, deepened his gratitude and strengthened his conviction that his designs for distant islands were practicable and important. The other missionaries and the deputation that had lately visited them concurred in his views, and the society authorized the char- tering of a vessel for an annual voyage to the distant stations. The first voyage was made in the autumn of 1825, by his colleague, Mr. Bourne. Toward the close of the year he welcomed Mr. and Mrs. Pitman, who had been sent to occupy Rarotonga. Some time elapsed before they could complete their preparations, and then, in conse- quence of Mr. Bourne's absence, Mr. Williams had no one to supply his place at Raiatea. But his anxiety to visit Rarotonga overcame other considerations; leaving the congregation in charge of a native preacher he set out upon his joyful errand on the 26th of April, and on the 5th of May reached the desired haven. He was greeted by a great multitude, who were attracted by the news of his arrival. They all insisted on the privilege of saluting him in the English manner by shaking hands. As they considered " that the sincerity of their affection was to be expressed by the severity of the squeeze and the violence of the shake," he was in no danger of forgetting the ceremony, for some hours at least. JOHN WILLIAMS. 425 The people had abolished idolatry, and were attentive to instruc- tion, but had made comparatively little progress. The difference between their language and the Tahitian was sufficient to impede, if not to prevent free communication of thought, and none had learned to, read. The quick ear of Mr. Williams soon detected the peculiar- ities of their dialect. He drew up an elementary work, and trans- lated some portions of Scripture. When these were printed, the Rarotongans proved as rapid learners as any Tahitians. Here he remained nearly a year, indefatigable in teaching, taking the lead in builduig and other departments of useful industry, superintending the erection of places of worship, rousing by every means the ener- gies of all. His cheerful, kind and transparently frank character won rapidly on the natives. Their confidence in him was unbounded. Seldom, if ever, has one man so rapidly obtained the absolute sway over a community that Mr. Williams wielded at this time in Raro- tonga. So many demoralizing usages prevailed, that he did not hesitate to propose a reform in the government. The Raiatean code was expounded; it met with general approbation, a general assembly confirmed it, and it has since been the established constitution. But it was impossible to forget Raiatea or to think of it without apprehension. The news that the man to whom the oversight of the congregation was committed had died, leaving the charge in the hands of a colleague far less competent, would have hastened Mr. Williams' departure if any conveyance could be procured. Vessels scarcely ever touched at this remote island, and he was driven by necessity to build one himself The attempt was characteristic. He knew nothing of the art, and had no proper materials or implements. But he was equal to the task. A bellows was first constructed, covered with goat skins. The rats, about as numerous as the frogs that on a time vexed the Egyptians, soon made the labour useless. As a substitute, he made a couple of boxes, with a loaded piston in each lifted by levers. A pipe and the necessary valves being attached, it was easy to keep up a succession of blasts by working the two alternately.* A stone anvil was erected, and the iron work was soon successfully under way. Planks had to be split and hewn from logs, wooden pins supplied the place of iron fastenings, the material for which was scarce. Cocoa-nut husk, native cloth and * This ingenious contrivance, though original, was not new. Mr. Williams after- wards found a similar machine in operation in a manufacturing district of England. 426 JOHN WILLIAMS. Other substances answered very well for oakum, and sails were made of native mats. Cordage was prepared of the bark of the hibiscus, and blocks turned from the aito, or iron-wood, for which processes a rope machine and turning-lathe had to be set up. Under all these disadvantages, the vessel was completed in fifteen weeks, a craft of seventy or eighty tons, named the "Messenger of Peace." Its sailing qualities having been satisfactorily tested in a trip to Aitutaki, one hundred and seventy miles distant, Mr. and Mrs. "Williams prepared to return to their home. Before they departed, Mr. Buzacott arrived as an associate with Mr. Pitman at Rarotonga, a much needed and valued reinforcement. Great was the curiosity at Tahiti when the "Messenger of Peace" made its appearance. It was literally "a strange sail," and excited strange suspicions. After a few days' pause, its course was turned towards Raiatea, where the missionaries arrived on the twenty-sixth of April, 1828, after an absence of just a year. This exploit in shi23-building, rivalling in its actual detail the best contrivances imagined in Robinson Crusoe, excited so much admiration in Eng- land, and indeed was received by many with such incredulity, that Mr. Williams was led to insert in his "Missionary Enterprises," a full account of the whole process. For himself, so intent was he on the ends to be secured by it, that the work, romantic as it seems in the description, hardly occupied his thoughts after it was completed. His immediate object was to get back to his station, but he saw in this rude structure the means of accomplishing his long-cherished designs to carry the gospel to distant islands, "ii^ ship," he writes, "is about to convey Messrs. Pritchard and Simpson to the Marque- sas; after which, I purpose taking a thorough route, and carrying as many teachers as I can get, down through all the Navigators, Fee- jees, New-Hebrides, New-Caledonia, &c. . . . My hands, my head and my heart are more full of missionary work than ever. My grasp is great and extensive, and the prospect of success encouraging. I'll get help from my brethren, if I can ; if not, nothing shall deter me; I will work single-handed." To the" important enterprise on which his heart had been so long set, it was not possible to turn at once, but after about two years spent in his customary employments at Raiatea, he equipped his vessel, and departed for the Samoan, or Navigator's islands. Thence- forth his settled conne(3tiou with the Society Islands ceased. He JOHN V/ILLIAMS. 427 occasionally came there, but more as a visitor than as an inhabitant. Had his missionary life closed here, it would have been a glorious one, Eaiatea had been of itself an enduring monument to his piety and wisdom. The entire community had been transformed; brutal savages had become intelligent and virtuous men and women ; indus- try, peace and social order had refreshed the desert long wasted by malignant passions; and nearly three hundred — a much larger pro- portion of the people than in Christian America — were exemplary 'Christians, united in church-fellowship. Had Williams consulted personal ease and enjoyment, he could have found the purest happi- ness in sitting down amid this paradise he had planted and watered through more tlian eleven years. But he gladly left it, to convey the same blessings to other tribes still perishing for lack of knowledge. With several pious natives, set apart for missionary service, Mr. and Mrs. Williams bade adieu to Raiatea, May 24th, 1830. Visiting the Hervey Islands, they found the stations in the full tide of suc- cessful progress, except at Rarotonga, where a pestilence was sweep- mg off multitudes of the people; yet it was plain that their hearts were steadflist, and that so soon as the calamity should be overpast they would press forward in the way they had entered. From Rarotonga the Messenger of Peace visited Savage Island, but met with so hostile a reception that it was not deemed prudent to venture on shore. They next reached Tongatabu, one of the Friendly Isles, occupied by Wesleyan missionaries, with whom Mr. Williams had a most pleasant visit. As they had decided to evangelize the Fejee Islands, (where they have since met with the most gratifying suc- cess,) he cheerfully relinquished his designs for that field. Intelli- gence from the New Hebrides that the people, always ferocious, were then particularly hostile to Europeans, made it necessary to postpone attempts in that quarter. But a chief from Samoa was at Tongatabu, and gave so friendly an invitation to the missionaries, that they steered for that group, pausing at two intermediate islands. On reaching Savaii, the most important of the Samoan Isles, they Avere surprised at its extent. It was larger than Tahiti, and Mr. Williams became satisfied, after a more careful survey, that the Samoan was the largest and most populous group in the Pacific, except the Sandwich Islands. The death, just at this time, of a chief who had exercised almost boundless sway as a political and religious potentate, made the introduction of Christianity much easier than it would otherv/ise have been. 428 JOHN WILLIAMS. The people were generally not so tall or strong as the Tahitians, and they were, at first view, less comely, but exceedingly symmet- rical and agile. They were also milder, the politest people of the Pacific, — a distinction of which they were conscious and notably vain. No organized priesthood existed to make gain of their super- stitions, which, though gross, were less cruel and debasing than those of other islanders. This circumstance, together with the absence of image-worship, — their devotions being offered exclu- sively to natural objects, — had gained for them the epithet of "god- less." They received the missionaries and teachers with the most gratifying kindness, and when Mr. Williams left them, after a sojourn of three days, it was with the most triumphant anticipations of suc- cess, and devout thanksgivings for the beneficent providence that had directed his way thither at so propitious a season. On once more reaching Raiatea he was compelled by the state of Mrs. Williams' health to entertain the design of visiting England. More favourable symptoms obviated the necessity for the time, and it was a timely relief A chief had succeeded to the government of the neighbouring island of Tahoa, who asserted some hereditary claims to the lordship of Raiatea. Tamatoa and his people dreaded war, and tried every means to avert it short of submission. The good old king was taken away before the storm burst. Chiefs from Tahiti arrived to mediate between the parties, and succeeded in making a temporary peace, during which Mr. Williams sailed to Rarotonga, thence intending to visit Samoa. While there, a hurri- cane desolated the settlement, and uprooted so many of the trees on the island that a famine was apprehended, and he sailed to Tahiti to procure a supply of provisions. While there, he learned that hos- tilities had been resumed in the Leeward Islands, bringing in their train all the distress which is the customary incident of war. Moral restraints had been relaxed, distilleries had been set up, and the state of Raiatea had painfully retrograded. He hastened to the spot; some members of the church, who had dishonoured their profession, were excluded, and after considerable exertion, order was restored. As the Raiateans were the victors in the war, a fair promise of con- tinued quiet was obtained. Returning to Rarotonga with a valuable cargo, he remained only long enough to prepare for his expedition to Samoa. The Mes- senger of Peace was under way on the 11th of October, 1832, and on the 17th, after a delightful sail of eight hundred miles, Manua, JOHN WILLIAMS. 429 the most easterly of the Samoan group, was visible. Though two hundred and fifty miles from the residence of the teachers, the peo- ple were professed Christians, and informed him that very many of the inhabitants of Savaii and Upolu, the two largest islands, had embraced the truth. Such was the fact. The teachers had strug- gled with the most serious difficulties, and overcome them ; they had secured the confidence of several chiefs, and of the body of their people. Of course they had communicated but little spiritual instruction, and their disciples had exceedingly crude ideas of Chris- tianity; but a work was begun, which has since proved among the most glorious wrought in those seas. After visiting two or three other islands, the Messenger of Peace was under sail for Earotonga. A dangerous leak made it necessary to put into Tongatabu for repairs, and after a detention of thirteen days Mr. Williams resumed his voyage, reaching Earotonga early in January. Here he continued six months, completing the transla- tion of the New-Testament and in evangelical labour. A church was formed, and a pleasing degree of attention to personal religion became visible, demonstrating the presence of the Divine Spirit. In July the Messenger of Peace was sold, and he went to Tahiti to arrange for his visit to England. After a short excursion to the Leeward and the Hervey Isles, he set sail, via Cape Horn. The voy- age was very beneficial to Mrs. Williams, and on the twelfth of June, 1834, the}^ found themselves once more in the land of their fathers. They left the missions in an unpropitious state, as compared with the bright promise of former years. The efforts of men who are the disgrace of Christian lands to introduce ardent spirits into the islands had been too successful, and the mission churches were almost literally tried by fire. Not a few had fallen, and though sobriety was resuming its sway, and the walls of the sanctuaries, broken by the enemy, were once more becoming strong, yet the chequered pic- tures of alternate despondency and hope, had in England abated the public interest in the South Sea Missions. Mr. Williams was little known except to the Directors of the Missionarj^ Society and the few more immediately concerned in their work, and he came before public meetings with nothing to commend him in advance. But the directors called him out, and in a series of addresses, delivered in London and the provincial towns, he won an extraordinary popu- larity and excited an intense interest in the mission. Besides these efforts, he conferred with the directors- on important plans for 430 JOHN WILLIAMS. strengthening and extending tlieir work in the Pacific. He super- intended the printing of the Rarotonga New-Testament, and prepared a number of books and tracts. In the intervals of other duties, he prepared his Narrative of Missionary Enterprises, a work which was received with unprecedented favour by the public. About thirty- eight thousand copies were disposed of in five years, besides editions in this and other countries, and it is still a book of standard value. By presenting copies to members of the roj^al family and some of the more distinguished nobility and gentry, many handsome donations were received, and an unwonted interest in his efforts was excited in circles to which the claims of missions had seldom penetrated. Encouraged by these favourable indications, he made a fresh effort to procure a missionary ship. Believing that the commercial public were deeply interested in the enterprise on which his heart was set, he ventured to apply to the admiralty for the grant of a vessel. This was declined, for reasons which would have spontaneously suggested themselves to any man less ardent than Mr. Williams, and which he was not dull in appreciating when they were offered, lie next made an appeal to the public liberality, with the most com- plete success. In no long time, enough was contributed to pui'chaso and equip a vessel amply sufficient for the service. The fate of his application to the admirality did not prevent him from trying his powers of suasion on the Lord Mayor and Corporation of London, with such effect that five hundred pounds were voted in aid of his object. The health of Mrs. Williams, which had continued to be feeble, and long threatened to form an insuperable barrier to her husband's return, at length recovered its usual tone. His mind was now at rest. The "Camden," his "missionary ship," was fitted for sea, a large edition of the Rarotonga Testament and other books had been printed, several new missionaries were ready to accompany him, among them his eldest son, who was designated for Samoa, and he joj'fully made ready to renew his delightful toils. The great interest felt for him, was manifest by the eager liberality with which gifts of all kinds were lavished upon him. Every article of comfort and even of luxury, suited to a long voyage, was freely contributed. Rich and poor vied with each other in the labour of love. The ship-builder who repaired the Camden declined all com- pensation for work worth four hundred pounds. A pious man, who earned his living by furnishing ships with filtered water, carried off JOHN" WILLIAMS. 431 twenty tons to tlie Camden, as lie said, for "tlie pleasure of giving a cup of cold water." A pilot applied for the privilege of taking the vessel out to sea gratuitously, a service for which he was enti- tled to not less than twenty pounds. The 11th of April, 1838, was fixed for the day of departure. On the 1th, valedictory services w^ere held at the Tabernacle, Moorfields, where Mr. Williams and his brethren addressed a vast assembly. As if with a prophetic vision of what awaited him, he spoke of the dangers to which he might be exposed from the ferocity of savages. Alluding to a cele- brated actor, who assigned as a reason for retiring that he felt there must be a gap between the stage and death, he remarked: "Now the missionary wants no gap between his work and his death: there- fore, should God call us to suffer in his cause, we trust that we shall have grace to bow with submission to his will, knowing that others will be raised up in his providence to carry into effect that work which we have been employed to commence." On the evening of the 8th, he united with his associates in the solemn commemoration of the Lord's death, at Barbican chapel, and. on the next day, at a meeting of the Board of the Society, they were solemnly committed to the divine protection. Two days after, in the presence of an immense multitude that thronged the wharves and the eastern parapet of London Bridge, the missionary company, having parted from their near friends, bade farewell to England. Mr. Williams was nearly overcome by the first separation, but when he boarded the steamer that was to convey him to the Camden, his usual cheerfulness seemed to return. One more bitter sorrow awaited him, the separation from his youngest son, who accompanied him to the vessel ; bat this past, his spirits rose with elastic energ3^ He was not without apprehension as to the future, and he felt the responsibility that attached to his mission, but these shadows only temporarily dimmed his vision. Three days after they weighed anchor, unfavourable winds compelled the captain to seek shelter in Dartmouth roads. It being Sunday, Mr. Williams went on shore, and preached for Rev. Mr. Stenner, who, with his people, was delighted at his unexpected appearance. The missionaries were detained here till the morning of the 19th, when Mr. Williams took his last look of England, During the voyage, the new missionaries w^ere busily engaged in studying the Tahitian and Rarotongan lan- guages, and on the 3d of May, a church was organized, composed of the missionaries, the pious captain and mate, and several of the crew, 432 JOHN WILLIAMS. In all twenty-six persons, who united in the communion-service with great interest and solemnity. At Capetown, where they remained nearl}'- three weeks, they found much to enjoy in the society of Dr. Philip and his associate in that mission. At Sydney they received tidings of the most cheering character from the South Seas; and these were confirmed when, on the 23d of November, they arrived in the harbour of Pangopango, at the island of Tutuila, one of the Samoan group. Most of the people had renounced heathen- ism. Of the entire population of the group, estimated at sixty or seventy thousand, nearly fifty thousand were under instruction. Wars had ceased, immense numbers had learned to read, family and public worship were generally observed. Mr. Williams fixed his residence among them, on the island of Opnlu. After a season spent in active labour, he left Mrs. Williams at their new home, and pro- ceeded to Rarotonga, to convey the five thousand Testaments he had brought with him. The books were received with unutterable joy, and eagerly purchased. A school was established for the education of native preachers. He next visited Tahiti, and other islands, arriving at his Samoan home in the following May. Here he con- tinued six months, abundant in spiritual labours. A church was organized, and the first hopeful converts of this interesting mission united in the Lord's Supper. November 3d, 1839, was the last Sabbath Mr. Williams spent at Samoa. He was going forth with a company of native teachers to plant the standard of the cross in regions where it had been unknown. Though no presentiment of the fatal result appears to have been dis- tinctly present to his mind, an unusual melancholy seemed to rest on his spirits. This was in part due to anxiety concerning the issue of his enterprise. Formerly, when the work was new, and prose- cuted, on his own responsibility, with slight encouragement, his spirits were buoyant. But his previous successes and the admira- tion they had excited in England, the knowledge that high expecta- tions were formed of him, and a consciousness of his personal inadequacy, weighed upon his mind with painful force. But he was also — and it seemed afterwards a very memorable thing — much occupied with thoughts of the frailty of life. His frequent allusions to this theme were noticed by his friends. The last sermon he delivered was from Acts xx. 36-38. So tenderly did he dwell on the expression, ^''sorrowmg 'most of all for the words luhich he spake, that they should see his face no more^'' — that the congregation wept JOHN WILLIAMS. 433 without restraint, and for a considerable time nothing but sighs and sobs were heard throughout the assembly. Two days after, the Camden commenced her voyage, ] They touched at Rotuma with the view of landing some teachers there, but the cool and suspicious behaviour of the chiefs repelled them ; two finally remained at the urgent entreaty of a subordinate chief, and the company proceeded to the New-Hebrides. On the 17th of November they reached Fatuma, and had such communications with the people as encouraged the hope that they would welcome missionaries, should they be sent. On the 18th they made the island of Tanna, where two teachers were kindly received, and con- cluded to settle. The next day they reached Erromanga just at evening. Mr. Williams spent a sleepless night. His survey of the important islands thus far visited, had strongly impressed him with their importance as a missionary field, and he was full of anxiety as to the issue of his present attempt to evangelize them. On the morning of the 20th he landed, and attempted to converse with the natives, but their language was unintelligible. He made them pres- ents, and thought they appeared friendly. In company with Mr. Harris, a gentleman on his way to England with a view to future missionary service, and Mr. Cunningham, he went for a little dis- tance out of sight of his companions, who remained in the boat. A moment after, Mr. Williams and Mr. Cunningham appeared run- ning, pursued by several natives. Mr. Cunningham escaped. Mr. Williams reached the water's edge, when he was knocked down with a club, — another person stabbed him with several arrows. Every attempt to save at least his murdered body was ineffectual. His remains were dragged inland; the murderous crowd that thronged the beach was too numerous to be dared by the crew of the Camden. ] The captain immediately sailed to New South Wales, and a vessel of war was at once despatched to secure the remains of Mr. Harris and of the martyred missionary. ) The wretched Erromangans confessed that they had eaten the bodies, and that only the skulls and some of the bones were left. These were gath- ered up, and borne to Opulu. The tidings reached Mrs. Williams at midnight, with what effect words cannot describe. But the calam- ity, the grief, were shared by multitudes. The people were roused from their beds, and in the morning twilight gathered in groups, listening to the tragic tale. A general cry of lamentation resounded throughout Samoa. At Rarotonga, Tahiti, and the other islands, 28 4:34: JOHX WILLIAMS the intelligence called forth similar demonstrations of grief. And throughout Christendom, wherever the storj of his life had gone, the story of his untimely and cruel fate caused many a heart to swell with unutterable sorrow at thoughts of the Martyr of Erromanga. I Did the limits of this work admit of a narrative sufficiently extended to bring more intimately and particularly the varioiis incidents of Mr. Williams' life before the reader's eye, we might be spared the effort at a formal delineation of his character. In few words, with the ample aids furnished by the full memorials left from his own pen, and the grateful testimonials of friendship, we may note some of his most striking peculiarities. Physically, he was built on a large scale, robust, and capable of energetic and sus- tained exertion. His countenance was at first view wanting in mobility and expressiveness, but the impression vanished when it was lighted up by the fire of his ever-cheerful, quick, and sympa- thetic spirit. His mind was not specially distinguished for depth or subtlety, neither was he endowed with much imaginative power. He could never have been a poet, though he wrote verses in his youth, — nor a distinguished theologian, skilled in fine distinctions and sharp logic, — nor a philosopher, piercing through the deeps of abstract speculation, to take hold on the elements of being. But he had uncommon quickness and justness of observation, a retentive memor}^, sound judgment, great fertility of resource. He was in all points a man of action. His plans were broad, but never too extended to be grasped in their detail. Though he looked far, his eye took in every intervening object. Hence, though the defects just alluded to caused him to fail when he wandered from his appro- priate sphere to more speculative pursuits, he seldom made the mis- take, and seldom erred in his judgment. His temperament was warm, and his affections ardent. He was whole-hearted. With quick susceptibilities and much tenderness, the prevailing sentiment of his life was hopeful and even sanguine. Entering into all his plans with ardour, concentrating his utmost energy upon them, he never feared failure, or permitted any obstacles to shake his purposes. These traits were consecrated by fervent piety to make him the instrument of untold benefits to mankind. His piety manifested itself in harmony with his mental character- istics;'— a sure proof of its genuineness, as something not imposed, but implanted; not cramping and clipping the developments of his JOHN WILLIAMS. 435 nature in the manner that a now defunct class of landscape gardeners tortured trees into fantastic shapes, but nourishing continually fresh growths that rose in forms of spontaneous beauty. It was a cheer- ful, manly, practical piety, void of sentimentalism and morbid mel- ancholy. He kept no diary to perpetuate his moods and humours, ■ — and his defective analytical power would have made a private journal from his pen little else than this. Strong, introspective, and thoroughly disciplined intellects, may preserve such autobiographi- cal records with much profit to themselves and to others, but he could never bring himself down from the post of observation, or withdraw from the field of action, merely to study and dissect him- self. Yet he was eminently devout, much in prayer and study of the Scriptures. His faith in God was humble, self-abasing, and always firm. He indulged no doubts about his own personal accept- ance. That matter was settled once for all, and his affections and purposes were fixed with such disinterested ardour on worJcs of faith and labours of love, that he was never inclined to withdraw into himself in the indulgence of fears and doubts. From the day of his conversion to that morning when he was "offered," he went ever onward, subordinating all things to the Divine Glory, trusting himself to the guidance of Divine Providence, seeking not his own. He had his afflictions, sharp to unaided nature, but to his faith, light in comparison with the glory to be revealed, for which he patiently waited. As a missionary, the works he did testify of him. They do follow him in a procession that reaches into eternity. How clearly he saw the necessities of the field to which he was sent, with what practical wisdom he planned his enterprises, and with what directness, force, and indomitable perseverance he executed them, has been seen, in a measure, as we have followed him from island to island, preaching, teaching, exciting, restraining, ready to embrace every occasion, to employ every lawful means, and to suf- fer any required self-denial, to make the objects of his compassion better and happier. He had a more than common reward on earth, and laid up a vast and enduring treasure in heaven. WILLIAM RICHARDS. William Richards was born at Plainfield, Massachusetts, August 22, 1793. His parents were not in affluent circumstances, but they were able to give their children a treasure of pious instruction, enriched by a corresponding example. At the age of fifteen, "Wil- liam became the subject of renewing grace, and three years after united with the church in his native town. The thought of becom- ing a minister of the gospel and a missionary, became fixed in his mind very soon after the dawning of his Christian hope. At that time, his eldest brother, James Richards, so honourably known to the Christian public as one of the little band whose prayers and counsels led to the formation of the American Board of Foreign Missions, was near the close of his college course. Near the time of his graduation, he disclosed to William his intention to be a mis- sionary, awaking in his younger brother a desire to follow in his footsteps. It was not, indeed, a settled purpose, but he could not forget it. While engaged in labour, he felt as if it would be a pleasure to live for the conversion of the world as his direct pursuit. The way was at length opened ; he pursued his preparatory studies under his pastor. Rev. Moses Hallock, and entered Williams College in 1815.* After graduating, he pursued his theological studies in the seminary at Andover. Previous to the close of his theological studies, he had definitely decided to go to the heathen, and as it was in contemplation to ^ The "mountain towns," as they are called, of Hampshire, (the old county of that name, from which the counties of Hampden and Franklin have been separ- ated,) it is believed, have furnished to the professions, and particularly to the minis- try, a larger number of young men than almost any section of the country, in proportion to their population. Perhaps New-Hampshire may dispute the claim. Those elevated and comparatively rude regions of New-England suggest the descrip- tion of ancient Numidia, arida nutrix leonum. In defect of academical institutions, the pastors of churches did much to prepare young men for college, and in this way trained up not a few of their youthful parishioners for usefulness in the church and the world. i38 WILLIAM RICHARDS. reinforce tlie mission to tlie SandwicTi Islands, whicli had been com- menced two years before, lie offered himself, on the 2d of Febru- ary, 1822, to the American Board for that service, as one for which he judged himself more especially fitted. The offer was accepted, lie received ordination on the 12th of September, was married in the following month, and embarked at New-Haven on the 19th of November, in company with two other ordained missionaries, a physician, three assistant missionaries, and four pious islanders who had been receiving instruction in this country. On the evening preceding, Mr. Eichards preached an appropriate sermon from Isa. Ix. 9: "Surely the isles shall wait for me." After hearing the part- ing instructions of the Board, the missionaries, with more than six hundred of their fellow-Christians, participated in the communion service. A great company of spectators thronged the wharf at which they embarked. The hymn, "Wake, isles of the south! your redemption is near," written for the occasion by William B. Tappan, was sung with thrill- ing effect; the missionary band were commended in prayer to Him who "rides on the whirlwind," and took their departure for their island-home. The voyage was pleasant, their relations with the officers and crew entirely harmonious. A Bible class for the sailors was organized in connection with their Sunday services. Several of the crew were remarkably serious and attentive to the instructions they received, and some appeared to have received saving benefits, though not all maintained their steadfastness after reaching port. On the 24th of April, 1823, they descried Hawaii. A boat was sent on shore the next morning to make inquiries, and several natives came off to see the missionaries, with whom they seemed much pleased. The vessel proceeded to Oahu, and on Sunday, the 27th, came to anchor off Honolulu, where the company received a joyflil welcome from their associates and from several chiefs. The only regret expressed was, that there were not more of them. In the distribution of the new labourers, Mr. Eichards and Eev. C. S. Stewart were assigned to the station of Lahaina, on the island of Maui, where they took up their residence in May. " We are liv- ing," Mr. Richards writes, "in houses built by the heathen and pre- sented to us. They are built in native style, and consist of posts driven into the ground, on which small poles are tied horizontally, WILLIAM RICHARDS, 439 and tlien long grass is fastened to the poles by strings wliicli pass round each bundle. "We have no floors, and no windows except holes cut through the thatching, which are closed by shutters without glass." These arrangements of course were temporary. "The field for usefulness here is great; and I have never, for a moment since I arrived, had a single fear that my usefulness on these islands will be limited by any thing but my own imperfections. If I can bo useful anywhere, I can be useful in Lahaina. Our work is, indeed, a pleasant one. I envy no one his employment, though he may be surrounded with a thousand temporal comforts of which I am deprived. It is enough for me, that in looking back I can see clearly that the finger of Providence pointed me to these islands; and that in looking forward, I see some prospect of success and of last- ing usefulness. All my anxiety arises from the fear that the whiten- ing harvest will not be gathered. Thousands, indeed I may say, nearly every adult on the Sandwich Islands, is waiting to receive instruction, and many are waiting with high hopes." The state of the people, as mentioned by Mr. Eichards, was indeed most encouraging, and in connection with the remarkable events that preceded the establishment of the mission, can never cease to be regarded as a most providential invitation to the churches of America. From their first discovery by Captain Cook, in 1778, the importance of the Sandwich Islands was clearly perceived. The largest and most populous group in Polynesia, and occupying a convenient position to be visited by whaling vessels and ships engaged in the China trade, American merchants began to reside there as early as the year 1786. The islands are of volcanic form- ation, composed of rocky and barren mountains, some rising fifteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, and separated b}^ frightful chasms, but with valleys of great fertility, and enjoying an agreeable climate. The inhabitants are of the same race with those of the Soci- ety and most of the other islands that lie east of the one hundred and eightieth degree of longitude. The body of the people were held in absolute subjection to the king and chiefs, and more sadly enslaved by a cruel and debasing superstition. War, infanticide, human sacrifices, polygamy, and the most revolting licentiousness were hastening the process of depopulation, aided by vices greedily received from for- eigners. The whole nation, indeed, had so far physically degener- ated, that they have not yet recovered, and the possibilit}^ of saving them from entire extinction is doubted. That they have not been 4i0 WILLIAM RICHARDS. still more degraded, and even blotted out of existence, must be attri- buted to the timely introduction of Christianity. The way for the missionaries was prepared before them. Kame- hameha, a chief of uncommon capacity, had made himself the abso^ lute monarch of all the islands. He was ready and showed himself able to avail himself of the advantages to be derived from inter- course with civilized nations. He raised and drilled an army in the European fashion, supplied them with fire-arms, built forts and mounted cannon, and created something of a navy. The keel of his first ship was laid by Captain Vancouver in 1792. In a few years his fleet amounted to twenty vessels; he grew rich by com- merce, and encouraged the mechanic arts. Several of the chiefs acquired a knowledge of the English language. But the uncon- trolled despotism of the government and superstition of the people made it impossible for the mass to rise. Soon there came tidings of wonderful changes wrought in Tahiti by a new religion. Henry Obookiah and others had gone to the United States, and received a Christian education ; the fact was interesting, and caused some spec- ulation. But Kamahameha was high-pi'iest as well as king, and while he upheld idolatry, nothing could be done. He died in 1819, about seventy years of age. On his death-bed, he desired an American present to tell him of the Bible and of the Christian's God, but received no response, and died in ignorance of the truth. His son Rihoriho, who succeeded him, after consulting with the chiefs, abolished their whole system of superstition. The maraes or sacred enclosures, with the idols they contained, were burned, and an earnest desire was expressed for the arrival of missionaries. These were on their way. The first company sailed less than a month before from Boston. They arrived in March, 1820, and were met with intelligence that the idols were utterly abolished. There remained, indeed, ignorance and depravity, the consumma- tion of centuries of darkness, to resist their efforts and put their faith to a severe test, but they were hospitably received, and the utmost readiness was shown to receive instruction and forward all the interests of the mission. The king and chiefs were the first pupils, and though his majesty was a somewhat unsteady scholar and capricious patron, the progress of improvement was visible and decided, so much so as to excite at a very early period the hostility of profligate foreigners, whose opportunities for vicious indulgence were sensibly diminished under the new order of things. By the WILLIAM RICHARDS. 4.41 establishment of a printing-press education went rapidly forward, and the people began to gain clearer ideas of the nature of true religion. Some were serious, and a few gave indications of piety, slight, indeed, but, as afterwards appeared, real. The king, by the influence of foreign residents, was kept from the full influence of the truth, prevailed on to absent himself from public worship, and even led into intoxication, notwithstanding his repeated determina- tion to reform. He visited England in the autumn of 1823, and died in the following July. Though in a Christian land, he had little intercourse with religious people. The men who had so stren- uously resisted all efforts to enlighten his conscience gained their end; he died, in every thing but the name, a heathen. Mr. Richards addressed himself to his duties at Lahaina with zeal, from his first arrival. Although he had not acquired the language so as to converse intelligibly in it, he was able to commence teach- ing at once, as it was easy, the alphabet once learned, to read mechanically with perfect accurac}^, and he had a number of pupils. As soon as he was able to preach, he found "the hearing ear," and had not to wait long for "the understanding heart." In the spring of 1825, a remarkable spirit of religious concern was manifested. It began among the women, for whose benefit a female prayer-meet- ing was instituted with the happiest effect. But soon there were men so anxious to learn the way of life, that on more than one occasion Mr. Richards was awaked in the night to answer their pressing inquiries. Under date of April 19th, he writes: "As I was walking this evening, I heard the voice of prayer in six differ- ent houses, in the course of a few rods. I think there are now not less than fifty houses in Lahaina, where the morning and eveninr^ sacrifice is regularly offered to the true God. The number is con- stantly increasing, and there is now scarcely an hour in the day that I am not interrupted in my regular employment, by calls of persons anxious to know what they may do to be saved." Several places of worship were erected, and about eight hundred persons were under instruction in schools in the different parts of the island. A similar state of things existed at the other stations. It was impossible Jhat so great a change could take place with- out stirring up a spirit of resistance, and it is a dismal feature of Polynesian missions, that the most despei'ate resistance to the pro- gress of righteousness has come uniformly from the natives of 442 WILLIAM EICHARDS. Christian lands. The leader on this occasion was Captain Buckle, of the English whale-ship Daniel. An order had been promulgated by the chiefs, forbidding women to visit ships in the harbour. This embargo upon licentiousness was more than the seamen would bear. The crew of the Daniel, to the number of thirty or forty, came on shore armed, and threatened the lives of the missionaries. It was found necessary to surround Mr. Richards' house with a guard. The same outrages were perpetrated at Honolulu, under the lead of Captain Buckle, by both English and American sailors. The chiefs however, were firm. The next 3'ear similar assaults on the laws and morals of the islands were committed at Lahaina. At Honolulu, through the vio- lence of Lieutenant Percival, of the United States' armed schooner Dolphin, countenanced by the British and American consuls, the lives of the missionaries were placed in imminent peril, much prop- erty was destro3'ed, and the chiefs were intimidated into a relaxation of the law. Vice made fearful inroads, and in four months, mis- chief was done that required long and painful efforts to repair. Complaint was made to the Secretary of the Navy, and Lieutenant Percival was made to answer for his conduct before a court of inquiry. The result of the investigation was never published, a sufficient proof that he did not succeed in vindicating his conduct. During the pendency of these violent proceedings the condition of Mr. and Mrs. Richards was particularly perilous. They \vere alone with the natives, and dependant on them for protection. The masters of American vessels would do nothing in his support, while Captain Buckle encouraged his men, and offered them arms with which to enforce their evil designs. Mrs, Richards had been for several days too ill to leave their house, but she was not moved by the threats of those who first came to demand the repeal of the laws against prostitution. "I am feeble," she said, "and have none to lc»ok to for protection but my husband and my God. I might hope that in my helpless situation I should have the compassion of all who are from a Christian country. But if you are without compas- sion, or if it can be exercised only in the way you propose, then I wish you all to understand that I am ready to share the fate of my husband, and will by no means consent to live upon the terms you offer." The unlooked-for spirit and firmness of the people, who appeared to act with the most perfect unanimity, proved for the time an effectual security. WILLIAM RICHARDS. 443 From the commencement of tlieir labours the missionaries had shown singular forbearance towards foreign visitors and residents. For whatever aid and countenance they received, they publicly expressed their gratitude; and when aggrieved by hostility, which they had done nothing to provoke, beyond what they were bound as Cliristians and philanthropists to do for a people whom they came expressly to save from the degradation of sin, they contented them- selves with very general and regretful allusions to the subject. But events like these just related imposed on them the necessity of appealing to the tribunal of public opinion against the lawless and brutal men who were so infamously conspicuous in the work of evil. Mr. Kichards transmitted to Boston a full account of Captain Buckle's conduct, which was published, and found its way into the newspa- pers. In process of time the printed narrative arrived at Honolulu. The excitement was of course unbounded. The discovery that the Sandwich Islands were no longer secluded from the observation of the world, and that men could not revel in vice without the risk of exposure at home, was more than the guilty could bear. They threatened to take the life of Mr. Richards and to destroy Lahaina. A difficulty with Captain Clark, who had openly defied the laws, and was, in consequence, detained on shore for some hours, by Hoapili, the native governor of Lahaina, was also made the subject of com- plaint by the British consul. The chiefs called a council to hear complaints against the missionaries. The complainants were re- quested to reduce their charges to writing, but declined, and on Mr. Richards being sent for to confront them, hastily retired. The chiefs passed laws against murder, theft and adultery, to be in force in all the islands; Hoapili laid in a quantity of cannon and ammunition at Lahaina, to be prepared against any future attacks, and this spe- cies of annoyance ceased. It was reserved for a great nation, the boasted centre of the world's civilization, to bring its irresistible power to bear on the weakness of the islanders, that French priests and French brandy might be forced on a people who loathed the one and dreaded the other. Chagrined at the issue of their contest with the chiefs, the foreign residents relieved their feelings by publishing slanderous accusations against the missionaries, a custom which has not yet ceased. Every now and then some voyager touches at Honolulu, hears tne old story, and publishes it to the world. These tales have been refuted as fast as they have appeared, but the old proverb of "a lie well stuck to," 4.4:4: WILLIAM RICHARDS. though coarse, is just, and applies with full force to the ever-recur- ring fictions vented bj men who hate the missionaries because their own evil deeds are rebuked by them. In 1828 a season of great religious interest was enjoyed, which continued for two or three 3'ears. At the close of 1829 the commu- nicants numbered one hundred and eighty-five, and one hundred and twelve were added during the next year. The progress of the schools was rapid, and in other respects the improvement of the people was manifest. Undismayed by the past, the government not onlj^ reenacted the penal code, but, notwithstanding the unworthy threats of the British consul, extended it over the persons of for- eigners resident within the jurisdiction. This movement was sanc- tioned by a communication to the king from the President of the United States, expressing the hope that "kindness and justice will prevail between your people and those citizens of the United States who visit your islands, and that the regulations of your government will be such as to enforce them upon all^ Eeligion and morals, however, must have a firmer support than the authority of the municipal law. For several years, multitudes had outwardly conformed to the requirements of Christianity through the power and influence of the chiefs. Had they gained a sufficient hold on the people to dispense with such supports? This was tested, when, in 1833, the young king threw off the restraints of a regency, which had subsisted since the death of Eihoriho. He repealed a part of the criminal code, including the laws against the sale of intoxicating liquors, associated with dissolute persons, absented him- self from worship, and in other ways gave the weight of his authority and example against religion. For a time there was a marked relapse. But faithful instruction, with the Divine blessing, proved stronger than the king, and he himself was checked in some degree by his conscience, and held back from the worst of his designs. It was manifest that the vital truths of the gospel had been truly grafted into many hearts, and were extending their hold on the people. The Drocess has since gone forward, interrupted only by the interference of nations too powerful to be resisted by the government, against laws needed to preserve the body of the people from temptations they had not acquired the moral strength to resist. The history of this work, including those revivals that have multiplied converts by thousands, with all the impulses to social advancement developed from time to time, is too extended to be recited here, and too well WILLIAM RICHARDS. 445 known to require repetition. In tbe religious and educational labours which were the mainspring of the movement, Mr. Richards bore nis full part till the year 1837, when his health and th6 state of his family required him to visit the United States, Having provided for the care and education of his six children, one of whom died not long after, he immediately repaired to his post. But his direct missionary work was over. The king and chiefs felt the need of a more thorough reform in their government, and the need of instruction in the principles of political science. They had requested tlie Board to send a teacher for this purpose, but it was aside from the objects of their organization, and was declined. On Mr. Richards' return, in the spring of 1838, they requested him to become their chaplain, teacher and interpreter. With the consent of the Board he accepted the trust, and resigned his appointment as a missionary, which he had held and discharged with singular fidelity and success for about sixteen years. And though his past studies and pursuits may seem, at first view, to have been as foreign as possible from those of a jurist or a statesman, it must be remem- bered that an average New-Englander is in possession of enough political knowledge to instruct the most forward Pol3^nesian chief; besides, that Americans seem to be endowed with a kind of instinct- ive faculty for government, or what Mr. Carlyle sneeringly calls "reverence for a constable's staff," that emboldens them to impro- vise constitutions and construct durable administrations, with a facility and success marvellous to more fat-witted people. But Mr. Richards did not so far presume on his national birthright, or on the docility of his royal and noble pupils, as to do his work extempore. "Whatever he attempted, was undertaken with cautious forethought and the most thorough investigation his circumstances admitted. His success justified the wisdom of the attempt. It is pertinent in this connection to allude to the contradictory complaints that have been freely made against the missionaries to the Sandwich Islands in respect to their civil relations. Formerly they were accused of intermeddling with the government, and, as we have seen, Mr. Richards was more than once threatened with per- sonal violence by foreigners who held him responsible for laws at which they chose to take offence. The accusation was unfounded, though, if it had been true, there was nothing wrong in counselling 4.46 WILLIAM RICIIAllDS. laws to protect the morals of the people. The persons who were loudest in their complaints were continually interfering with the proceedings of the chiefs, and it is not easy to see on what ground they could reasonably claim a monopoly in the business of giving advice. Their counsels were surely not more disinterested than those of the missionaries. Mr. Eichards and his colleagues did what they were bound to do as ministers of religion, and no more. They were the moral and spiritual guides of the people. When a chief made a profession of Christianity, he naturally sought advice of the mission- ary in matters of personal duty. But as a chief he owed duties to the people under him. Many of the civil and social customs of the nation, that had grown up in their heathen state, were flagrantly opposed to Christian principle;' and was a minister of Christ to sanction them through fear of exceeding his province? Faithful- ness to the souls committed to his charge, whose responsibilities before God were not to be varied by distinctions of earthly rank, surely forbade. Beyond this, and the faithful exhibition of scrip- tural morality, they never went, as missionaries. When more was asked of them, as was asked of Mr. Eichards, the Board, we have seen, decided that it was incompatible with missionary relations. Of late, the successful working of a constitutional government has excited a very different complaint. Some of those who consider republicanism an essential part of the gospel, or rather, something so transcendent as to outrank everything else in heaven and earth, have blamed the mission for not constraining the king and chiefs to abdicate their hereditary functions, and set up a democratic govern- ment. Now this was a matter in which they had no concern, as a mission, and if they had attempted such a revolution the probability is that it would have put an end to their enterprise. They con- sidered their spiritual work their most important, their exclusive work, and were not likely to sacrifice it to gain inferior objects. The whole duty of man does not consist in voting and being voted for. It was possible, as has been abundantly proved, to bring the king and chiefs under such restraints of principle as should lead them to exercise their power in a spirit of justice and equity, with a scrupulous regard to the personal rights and happiness of their subjects, securing to all the utmost liberty of speech and of action that any well-ordered community enjoys, restraining violence and corruption, and throwing the safeguards of impartial law around the most defenceless. The divine law, — supreme love to God and the WILLIAM RICHAEDS. 44; equal love of our neighbour, — and tlie golden rule of perfect reci- procity, enforced by the motives of the gospel, and by the sanctions of conscience enlightened from the Bible, are more powerful than the best balanced constitution human wit has framed. It is not claimed that the government of the Sandwich Islands reached a perfect ideal standard ; the imperfections of human nature in its best state forbid this, and the state of the Hawaiian people was many degrees below the best; but most of those who have found fault with their laws belong to a class whose standard of moral action would hardly bear comparison with that of the people they despise. Mr. Eichards did not at first hold any political office, but as chap- lain and interpreter was expected to attend on the king and chiefs, and as a teacher, to give them information on the general principles of civil government recognised by civilized and Christian states. He did not set up for a jurist or political economist. Probably he was able to do more for his royal and noble pupils than if he had. He steered clear of technicalities and " binding precedents," of forms venerable only because they are old, and maxims assented to out of reverence for great names. He took the moral law as his stand- point, and to this brought all municipal laws for comparison. Whether the subsequent introduction of a more artificial system has been for the best good of the nation may be doubted. On the regular organization of a responsible government, Mr. Richards was for a time a member of the cabinet, and was despatched as an ambassador to England and other foreign courts. These appointments indicated the high confidence his probity and his dis- interested devotion to the welfare of the islands had justly inspired, but he was never formed by nature for a diplomatist, and his suc- cess was not distinguished. He was a better keeper of the royal conscience than of the "great seal," more likely to be useful as an adviser than as a responsible minister, and more at home in the Hawaiian than in any European court. In the year 1841, the American Board resigned their common schools on the islands to the government, which was able to sup- ])ort them, and very properly regarded them as a national concern. The oversight of them was committed to Mr. Richards. In Septem- ber, 1846, this branch of public service was recognised as a distinct department of administration, at the head of which he was placed, with the title of Minister of Public Instruction. He continued in the exercise of his official duties about a year, but his health was 448 WILLIAM RICHARDS. enfeebled, and it became evident that his career was nearly ended. He died November 7, 1847, in the fifty-fifth year of his age. Mr. Kichards was not distinguished by originality of genius or brilliancy of talent. But he was plentifully endowed with that which is better than either, — sound judgment. When he had a good object before him, one that commended itself to his moral judgment, he could work for it, and work till it was accomplished or was -proved to be impossible. His character was eminently fitted to inspire con- fidence, true and frank, and always decided. He was "upright and downright." With his clear-sighted and single-minded integritj^ was naturally allied an absolute fearlessness. How important these qualities are in a missionary, especially among savages, — and such were the Sandwich Islanders, in spite of the barbarian precocity of Kamehameha I., — needs only to be stated. Clearly, all depends on gaining their confidence, if possible their affection. This Mr. Rich- ards did in an eminent degree. When his life was endangered by ruffian violence, they were ready to stake their lives for his. In those critical circumstances, when the garden the missionaries had enclosed with such pains from the wilderness was in danger of being broken open and laid waste, had a timid man stood in his place, in all human probability the spoilers would have consummated their purpose. Had he not proved himself worthy the most devoted attachment of the people, they would have abandoned him to the fury of those who sought his life. And it may be remarked, in Dassing, that he was blessed in having a wife whose spirit was as unconquerable as his own, one who strengthened his hands and con- firmed him in the right, when feminine weakness might have been pardoned for yielding to the promptings of fear. The foundations of his moral strength were strongly laid in the principles of religion. His piety was robust, because it "grew with his growth." It was implanted at an early age, before time had been given for the tempt- ations of youth to confirm evil habits, and to ingrain those dark traits in the soul which so often prove the canker of Christian enjoyment through a life-time.* After all, some may suggest, the object of his mission to the Sand- * The writer regrets that his efforts to procure the materials for a more vivid per- sonal portraiture of Mr. Richards were unsuccessful, compelling him to depict his public, to the exclusion in great part of his personal and domestic life. WILLIAM RICHARDS. 449 wicli Islands is not likely to be accomplished. The Hawaiian race is doomed to extinction, the government is a prey for France or some other power, and not a vestige will be left of the language, the literature or the institutions he contributed to form and strove to establish. It may be so. The progressive decrease of the popula- tion looks dark for the future of that interesting race. France has repeatedly interfered with cowardly force to dictate the legislation of a community whose weakness should appeal to the magnanimity of a great nation ; and to compel the admission of that liquid fire which unrestrained will most surely consume the people. Yet it may be otherwise. In the agitations of the present time, the great powers are likely to find something more important lo attend to than the worrying of a handful of poor islanders, whose most hein- ' ous offence is hostility to French brandy. With their steady increase in knowledge and the arts of life, the decay of population may be arrested. But all such questions leave out of sight the primary pur- pose of the mission. It was established to gain subjects for a king- dom not of this world, the kingdom of Him who was despised and rejected of men. Though not a visible vestige should be left of what they wrought, God working with them, in the isles of the Pacific, the souls that have been there raised up from the death of sin to the life of righteousness are all safe. They have been, or will be, pre- sented "faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy." That from such a mass of savage degradation a Christian nation like the Hawaiian kingdom should have risen within a quar- ter of a century, is a great fact. That they should be unable to recover from the effects of a progressive deterioration, extending through centuries, is no drawback to the admiration which such a spectacle justly claims. Least of all is it an objection that they cannot resist a power like France. But as the heaven is high above the earth, so the true result of the missionary work rises sublimely above all material and national distinctions, in the eye of Him before whose face the heavens and the earth shall flee away ; and the eye of faith cannot be diverted from the glory that is to be revealed. 29 ARD HOYT. The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, very soon after its formation, was called to the subject of missions among the Indian tribes of North America by a request from the Delawares, communicated through the Hon. Elias Boudinot at the annual meet- ing in 1814, that missionaries might be sent among them. On this memorial the Board voted that in their opinion, "independent and unevangelized Indians, occupying their own lands, whether without or within the limits stated in the treaty of peace between the United States and Great Britain, are, with other objects, embraced by the act of their incorporation." In 1816 Rev. Cyrus Kingsbury visited the Cherokee country, having received from the Secretary of War assurances that the United States' government would be at the expense of erecting school-houses and dwellings for teachers, and furnishing implements of agriculture and the domestic arts for the pupils that should be gathered. He was received at a national coun- cil, attended bj' General Jackson on the part of the United States; the plans he proposed were favourably responded to by the chiefs, and a mission was commenced in the following year. The Moravi- ans had commenced their labours in 1801, and maintained a school at Springplace at which forty or fifty persons were taught. The church contained two Cherokee members, one of whom, Mr. Charles R. Hicks, was said to be the second in rank and the first in influence among the chiefs. Operations had also been commenced among the same people by the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, at the instance of the Rev. Gideon Blackburn, who undertook the establishment of schools. One was founded in 1804 and another in 1807, having about seventy-five pupils. Both had ceased to exist when Mr. Kingsbury visited the nation, having probably been broken up by the war of 1812. The Cherokee nation contained in 1810 twelve thousand three hundred and ninety-five Indians, and three hundred and forty-one whites, — one hundred and thirteen with In- dian wives. They were making progress in agriculture and domestic 452 ARD IIOYT. manufactures, and had within two years organized a regular consti- tution of government. Their territory, with that of the Choctaws, originally extended over the northern parts of the states of Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, including, also, parts of North Carolina and Tennessee. Tracts were ceded from time to time to the United States; but a considerable section of country still remained in their undisputed possession, which they occupied, in the enjo3anent of political independence, and in the exercise of an enterprising spirit that promised and rapidly achieved an almost unexampled growth in civilization.* Mr. Kingsbury commenced his mission in January, 1817. To promote the physical improvement of the Indians, a farm was pur- chased, a dwelling-house, school-house, grist-mill, and other necessary buildings were erected, and Mr. Kingsbury was able to commence teaching and preaching. He had been joined in March by two mis- sionaries, Messrs. Hall and Williams, one of whom took charge of the school and the other of the farm. The station was prospered both in its secular and its religious interests. In November Mr. Kings- bury was privileged to report the hopeful conversion of three Chero- kees, one of whom, a girl of eighteen, was Catharine Brown, the daughter of half-breed parents, whose name has been long familiar to persons interested in the progress of Christianity among the abori- gines of this continent. About this time the mission was reinforced by the appointment of the Eev. Ard Hoyt, who arrived with his family in the Cherokee country on the last day of the year, and reached his station at Brainerd, January 3d, 1818. Of the early life of Mr. Hoyt but little information can be here given. He was born at Danbury, Connecticut, October 23, 1770. He was not educated for the ministry, but was drawn from secular pursuits in the prime of life to devote himself to that service, and at the time of his engagement as a missionary was settled in the pastoral ofiice at Wilkesbarre, Pennsylvania. The tidings that reached him of the movement to Christianize the Cherokees warmly interested himself and his family, and they united in an offer of their services to the Board. Mr. Hoyt was then forty -six years of age; he had a son in the junior class of the College of New Jersey, at Princeton, and two daughters, all pious, and ready for the enterprise. Mr. William Chamberlain, a young man studying with a view to *Tracy's History of the American Board. ARD HOYT. 453 missionary service, and at tliat time an inmate of his house, joined in this proposal, which was accepted. Mr. Hoyt obtained a dismissal from his cono:re2:ation, and acted for a short time as an asrent of the Board. He was notified to set out for the Cherokee country in November. The household were ready. They received the notice on a Saturday, and the Monday following saw them on their way. There is some- thing peculiarly pleasant in the contemplation of a united household, animated hj a common attachment to a common cause of philan- thropy, moving together into the wilderness. The Christian public followed "Father Hoyt," (as he was styled in the mission journal, probably to distinguish him from his son, but yet suggestive of the afiection that reigned in their circle,) with more than common inter- est in his journey southward, so happily accompanied. It was a spectacle that had both a patriarchal and a Christian aspect, the characteristics of which were brought into stronger relief by the frank simplicity that marked all Mr. Hoyt's communications. Very soon after his arrival he was gratified by a visible proof of the productive character of the work in which he had so cordially embarked. The mission church held its first meeting for the exami- nation of candidates for admission on the 21st of January. Three Cherokees, one of them Catharine Brown, already mentioned, were approved and received. Three days afterward Mr. Hoyt, in com- pany with Mr. Hall, a colleague at the station, went out to visit among the people. At night he held a meeting for preaching with the aid of an interpreter. Several Indians were present, and listened with seriousness. One woman said she had always believed that the good would be rewarded, and the bad punished after death, but liad never heard of any way by which the wicked could become good and happy. She had been so alarmed on account of her sins that she had fled from her own house to hide in the woods. On the 1st of February two Cherokees were admitted to the church. A man who was present accepted of an invitation to remain with the missionaries all night. He said he did not understand what had been said and done that day, but he had heard that the missionaries could tell him some way by which bad people could become good and be made happy after death; he was himself bad, but wanted to become good, and had come to learn the way. It must be pleasant to preach the gospel to those to whom it is indeed good tidings, and such was the happiness of the labourers among the Cherokees. Some difficulties were indeed experienced, arising from the agita- 454 ARD HOYT. tion felt by the people in view of projects to remove them beyond the Mississippi. The apprehension of such a flite discouraged their efforts to improve themselves and to educate their children. Parents who ardently desired for their children the advantages of the mis- sion-schools withheld them, saying that very likely they would be driven westward before they could learn enough to do them any good. The assurances they received that their teachers would accompany them wherever they went quieted this feeling in a meas- ure, and a treaty with the United States in 1819, confirming their possession in perpetuity of the territory they occupied, restored their confidence. The evil day was only postponed. The people, trusting in the good faith of our government, made such advances in all the arts of life as immensely aggravated the sacrifice they were afterwards compelled to make, from which they have never fully recovered.* In the face of all difficulties, and with a force insufficient for the discharge of all the duties pressing on them, the mission persevered in their labours of love. Mr. Hoyt, as superintendent of the station, found himself at length unequal to his burdens, and was laid aside by a severe sickness for several weeks. It was apparently a pulmo- nary attack, which weakened him rapidly, and was accompanied by much acute pain. The mission was largely reinforced within the succeeding two years. On the 4th of January, 1823, five years having elapsed since he came with his family to Brainerd, he was able to look back on displays of providential and gracious benefits enjoyed by them, which awakened the liveliest gratitude. Thirty- six adults had been received to church fellowship at two stations, * The writer is awnre that numerous and plausible arguments for the removal of the Cherokecs have been made, by men whose disinterested regard for the welfare of the aboriginal races entitles their advocacy to great consideration; and that many others who originally condemned the measure, since it has been irrevocably acconi plished, have arrived at the conclusion that it was necessary and expedient. But it is a noticeable trait of our people, first to acquiesce in, and finally to approve, wliat- ever is enacted, no matter how odious it may have been before it was engrossed on parchment, or sanctified by the application of sealing-wax. Resignation to the fate of others, moreover, is always easy. We have no wish to enter into the question here, but it was impossible to avoid mention of the subject, and equally impossible, while so doing, to repress our unch:inged conviction, that the policy of removal was unjust and injurious, — injurious to the morals, and doing violence to all those senti- ments which are essential to the progress of any people, even if there was not pecu- niary loss; which may be doubted. The act is now irremediable, but that is no reason for giving it an ex post facto approval. ARD HOYT. 455 the schools were fall, and answered every reasonable expectation, the scholars were attentive to instruction and susceptible to religious influences, and several in the congregation, not members of the church, gave pleasing proof that they were truly pious. The Moravian, the Baptist, and other missions within the bounds of the nation, had met with the like success, so that though the field was large and imperfectly cultivated, there was the fairest promise of a fruitful harvest. In the following year a great change took place in the manage- ment of the mission. The station at Brainerd had been formed and managed on an extensive scale, to include the cultivation of a farm, the promotion of mechanical arts and other civilizing processes. Such a plan required the concentration of a large and somewhat incongruous missionary force, for whose agreement on the detail of plans frequent and protracted discussion was sometimes necessary. Secular cares impeded the more direct aims of the mission, and at the same time the expense incurred in supporting such an establish- ment, it was thought, would do more for the good of the people if more widely diffused among them. The number employed there was reduced about one-half, the persons detached being appointed to superintend other stations. Mr. Hoyt was one of these. He was designated to "Willstown. He was not able to enter upon his new sphere at once, having again been prostrated with weakness, which intermitted his labours for three months. He removed in the sum- mer, and on the 10th of October organized a church at Willstown, composed of nine Christian Cherokees, one of whom, it being a Presbyterian church, was appointed an elder. The congregation was serious, and there were encouraging cases of inquiry. A general increase of interest in religion seemed to follow the dispersion of the heathen and their nearer contact with the people. More than fifly converts were added to the several churches. Preaching had hitherto been chiefly performed by the aid of an interpreter, a process that was felt to be a serious hindrance to effective eloquence. Some educated Cherokees had done what no others could do so well, and their ministerial labours in aid of the missionaries had been much valued. But it was still felt to be import- ant that the Indians should have the Scriptures, and to learn them English was impracticable, in the lifetime of one generation at least. While efforts were making to reduce the language to writing, a native Cherokee anticipated the learned men in their own line, by inventing 456 ARD HOYT. an alphabet, so simple in its analysis of sounds that no difficulty was experienced in learning to read in two or three days. It is indeed a phonetic alphabet, the perfection of which must rank its inventor, George Guess, among philological geniuses. The year 1825 saw a printing-press and types in operation, by means of which a transla- tion of the New-Testament, made from the Greek, by David Brown, a Cherokee scholar, was given to the people in their new language. A newspaper followed, and hymns, and it was evident that a decided step in advance was at once made by the nation. Mr. Hoyt was too feeble in health long to perform his accustomed amount of labour. For several years he had borne the weighty charge of superintendent of the mission, adding to these cares the frequent preaching of the word, which had a marked effect on his auditors. At Willstown this was his chief, and, as his strength declined, his only employment. He fulfilled the public duties of the Sabbath, and during the week received at his house all who sought advice. The number was not small, for the Indians regarded him as a father and friend. The members of the church more espe- cially felt a warm attachment to him as their spiritual guide and counsellor. But it was plain that he could not be long with them. He saw himself to be nearing the confines of eternity, and his mind looked forward into the state of untried being, with the steady gaze of an assured faith. He once said in conversation that "his thoughts were not much on death, but rather on what is beyond it. The Christian's progress appeared to him like one continued course ; and though the step from earth to heaven is greater than any other step, yet to the faithful it would be easy." Still he was not looking for a sudden departure. The summons came "at midnight," but he was ready. On Sunday, the 17th of February, 1828, he preached for the last time, from the words, "Let the same mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus." The next day he read in his worship the twelfth chapter of St. Luke, speaking with animation of the preciousness of the promises. He retired to rest apparently in his usual health. At half-past ten he suddenly rose, dressed, and raised a window, exclaiming, "I want breath!" Unavailing efforts were made to relieve him. His time had come. Lifting his eyes to heaven with a look of rapture, he said, "I'm going!" After a pause, he again looked upward, with a still more triumphant expression, and repeated, "I'm going!" — ARD HOYT. 457 then bowed his head with a smile of unalloyed satisfaction, and "fell asleep." Mr. Hoyt was an unpretending man, possessed of a good under- standing, and more than common sagacity and judgment. His temper was frank and. communicative, and with his power of just observa- tion made him, indirectly as well as directly, of excellent service to the cause that enlisted his warmest interest. His journals, some- times minute, always picturesque and vivid, were read with avidity, and did much to quicken public sympathy for the mission. His heart was drawn out towards the Indians, not in a poetical or roman- tic, but in a jpractical benevolence. He did not live to see the full confirmation of the faith that prompted effort for their elevation into a civilized and Christian society, or to view with ineffectual sorrow the wrongs they suffered. But he aided in casting in the leaven which has since wrought with such transforming power on the nation, — in sowing the seed which has since been multiplied in the reaper's hands, — in originating a movement incapable of arrest, save by the extinction of the people Avhom it is bearing onward toward the farthest goal of human progress. His works do follow him. CYRUS SHEPARD. In the missionary enterprise, as in other evangelical labours, "there are diversities of operations." Besides the ministry of the gospel, wliich is the chief agency honoured by God in the conversion of the heathen, there is room for the intervention of lay agency, conducting departments of effective labour auxiliary to the main process. It is well to bring into remembrance some of those who, in such spheres of effort, have vied in self-denying toil with any of the more honoured leaders of Christian enterprise, though less regarded by those who observe the progress of evangelization. Such a man was the subject of this brief notice. Cyrus Shepard was born at Acton, Massachusetts, August 14, 1798. When he was very young, his parents removed to Phillipston, where he grew up to manhood. His father was a revolutionary sol- dier, and died on the morning of Independence-day, 1881. At an early age the son became deeply engaged in study, and adopted the profession of a common school-teacher. He was exemplary in his deportment, and sound in his moral and religious principles, but was a stranger to experimental religion till he had entered on the twenty- eighth year of his age. Previous to this time he had been punctual in attendance on the means of grace, and his profession as a teacher brought him often under the more immediate personal influence of clergymen and other religious men. His private journal shows that he was not without frequent impressions concerning his religious duty. In Januar}', 1826, these convictions, long postponed, were urged upon his conscience with a force he had formerly been a stranger to, at a Methodist meeting, the first he had ever attended. He was shortly enabled to cherish a good hope of salvation, though at first with trembling. The course he afterwards led abundantly proved the genuineness of his conversion. It was not brilliant, but steady. He was obedient in all things, as the way of duty was made known to him. He made no attempt to evade "one of these least 460 CYKUS SHEPARD. commandments," — a spirit whicli invariably leads to a breacli of the greater, — but diligently sought to be blameless, and this from no constraint but that of love. The duties of a common school-teacher in Massachusetts at that time demanded less literary preparation than is now exacted by the advanced state of public opinion, and as supply is generally gradu- ated by demand, there is no reason to suppose that Mr, Shepard's acquisitions in this respect would now be considered eminent, but they were fully up to the standard then required. He was consci- entiously diligent in the pursuit of every branch of study he had to teach, and his skill in imparting instruction made him a valued pre- ceptor. He had unusual tact, a ready insight into character, and a fiicult^^ of adapting his instructions to the capacity of his pupils. He was able to gain their esteem and confidence in an unusual degree; they not only respected, but learned to love him, — a harder thing to gain than admiration, and to a generous mind far better. He loved his work, and he felt a deep and affectionate interest in his pupils. This led him to cherish a constant feeling of responsi- bility for the manner in which he discharged his duty. Indeed, his solicitude on this point was a chief means of fastening in his mind the conviction that he needed divine help in his emploj^ment, and was a remote occasion of that tenderness of conscience which led to his conversion and so distinguished his character as a Christian. It may well be inferred that such a man would not be content to let slip the opportunities he had of inculcating that heavenly wisdom which is most needful for the soul. He exerted a constant and val- uable religious influence, the effect of which was visible to some extent, but can be fully known only when it shall be revealed at the last day. In 1829 Mr. Shepard removed to Lynn, where a new and more striking development of his character appeared. He was here called upon to exercise a wider religious activity than he had done, by the existence of a deep and extensive religious interest in which several churches participated. He was not licensed as a preacher, nor was he forward in any labours of a public character; but in little circles for prayer and religious conference, and more especially by familiar and faithful conversation with persons in whose welfare he felt inter- ested, he became the instrument of great good to many, particularly young men. But it was chiefly his connection with the Sabbath school that dis- CYRUS SHEPARD. 4G1 closed those traits vvbicli marked him out as a missionary. A short time previous to his removal to Lynn, the Sabbath-school had been reorganized on an efficient plan. A teachers' class had been formed, with a good library, containing many standard books of reference. Mr. Shepard was always punctually present to participate in the examination of the lesson they were to teach, though his modesty did not permit him to become specially prominent in the discussions of the class. But he soon gathered round himself a lesser circle of teachers, who met regularly to consider the topics of instruction, the state of their respective classes, their encouragements and their hin- drances, studying to strengthen their hands by mutual counsel and supplication. He was a successful teacher; his diligence in prepar- ation gave him power. His whole heart was in the work. More- over his opinions, in regard to the expectations of success teachers may be permitted to form, were in advance of those held by most at that time, and by too many now. He believed in labouring for the conversion of children; that children, who are old enough to sin, are old enough to repent, and to exercise Christian affections. His efforts were not vain. At how early a period his mind was turned to the subject of mis- sions it is not easy to determine, but it was cherished among his first and strongest Christian affections. It was the fruit of an earn- est love of souls, that overstepped all local and accidental distinctions, . and fastened itself on the great facts that equally concern all men, as the guilty subjects of one moral government, heirs in common of immortality, and bound to the same judgment-seat. His views were large ; he looked abroad among the nations, and the evidence that "the whole world lieth in wickedness" painfully oppressed his spirit. The conviction eventually fastened on his mind that he was person- ally called to engage in the work of evangelizing the heathen, but he did not immediately press forward to offer himself for the service. He waited for a more decisive providential confirmation of his views. Meanwhile, he was active in manifesting his interest in the cause and enlisting others. He always attended the monthly concert of prayer for the world's conversion, an appointment he greatly loved. He contributed liberally for the promotion of the object of his prayers. The teachers' class became a missionary society, each member collecting the voluntary gifts of his pupils, and, with his own, paying them over to their common fund. During the first three years of its existence the school collected three hundred dol- 462 CYRUS SHEPARD. lars, whicli was at first given to the Methodist mission among the Indians in Canada, and subsequently to the support of a school among the Oneidas. A translation of the Wesleyan Catechism No. I. was also printed for the use of this school at their expense, and was dedicated to "the members of the Sabbath-school of the Meth- odist Episcopal Church at Lynn Common." Africa was first present to Mr. Shepard's mind as a field of mis- sionary effort. He did not aspire to the ministry, but pleased himself with the thought of gathering the young about him, as had been his wont, and teaching them the elements of divine wisdom. On one occasion he said to a friend, smiling, "0 brother, I have had a most delightful dream. Would that I could realize it! I set sail for Africa with our missionaries, and our noble ship dashed finely on towards that distant and neglected land, while my heart leaped within me for joy. I had gathered around me already the sable chil- dren of the missionary school, teaching them the word of life, when I was hurried back to know that I have yet to wait for that time. But it vjill &e," he added with emphasis; "I shall yet labour in a heathen land. The Lord has called me, and I have laid my plans." If his plans had definite relation to Africa, they were disap- pointed. There was work for him to do elsewhere. A letter was published, to the effect that a company of Flathead Indians, delegated for that purpose, had come from beyond the Rocky Mountains to St. Louis, a journey of two thousand miles, to inquire concerning the God of the white man, and to request teachers of His religion for their people. This report was very much exaggerated, but there was enough in the unadorned facts to move Christian sympathy. They came on no such errand, but on their way, or after their arri- val, heard that the white men had a book sent from God, and called on the Indian Agent at St. Louis to make inquirj^ as to the truth of the story, and to learn something of the contents of the revelation. The intelligence of this incident, coloured as has been described, created a great sensation, and Rev. Messrs. Jason and Daniel Lee were engaged by the Missionary Board of the Methodist Episcopal Church to commence a mission in Oregon. Mr. Shepard's name had been mentioned in reference to an appointment as a teacher in Africa, and one of the missionaries, meeting him in Boston, confer- red with him on the Oregon mission. He was so much pleased with Mr. Shepard's appearance and conversation that he recommended him as a member of their missionary circle, and in accordance with CYRUS SHEPARD. 463 this suggestion the appointment was made. His journal, under date of December 6th, 1833, records his decision: "This day brothers Lindsey and Lee came to see me in reference to my engaging in the Flathead Indian mission. After some con- versation I agreed to go. It may seem to some that I was precipitate in making up my mind on this important subject; but it is all known to myself and my God. For more than seven years my mind has been exercised on the subject of missions; and a conviction has been fixed for years, that duty would ultimately require that I should give up the comforts of civilized life, and spend my remaining days in a heathen land, far away from those social endearments which render earth, in a measure, a paradise to the true Christian. I have endeavoured to count the cost, and after a careful, and, I think, thor- ough examination of the privations, difficulties and dangers attend- ant on a missionary life, even the probabilities of death itself not excepted, I can say that, by the assistance of divine grace, 'none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear to me,' so that I may do the will of my Heavenly Father, and fulfil his work." And to a friend he wrote, recounting his long-cherished impressions of duty: "My prayer has been that Grod would open the way, in his providence, and that I might be directed in the path of duty. At times my soul has been on the stretch for the work, and it seemed as if I could wait no longer: the way at other times has been closed up in an unexpected manner. Sometimes I have been almost ready to despair of ever entering into the work which lay so near my heart, and then again my expectations have revived with increased vigour. At length the Lord has, I trust, in his own time and man- ner, opened the way before me, and thus far has smiled upon my every effort which has been made in reference to the mission. In him is my trust: I feel I can lay all at his feet, — resign my friends and every dear privilege enjoyed here in my native land, and go at his command, trusting in his righteous providence and grace to carry me through a long and wearisome journey in the wilderness, and to give success to our enterprise in the place of our destination." The cheerfulness with which he set out on his errand of benevo- lence was the eflFect of anything but insensibility to the sacrifices he made. Oregon was not then, as now, the resort of enterprising emigrants. It was fitly employed by our country's greatest poet as 464 CYRUS SHEPARD. the image of utter solitude.* The Indians peopling the further slope of the Rocky Mountains, in point of degradation, might vie with almost any heathen brought within the notice and range of Christian charity. Mr. Shepard was a man of warm and constant attachments, both local and personal. The places where his child- hood and youth had been passed were associated with his purest recollections; the friends of his youth and manhood he cherished with a warmth of affection that knew no abatement from time or distance. To part from his venerable surviving parent, from the large circle of friendship he had formed in his employment as a teacher, and, above all, from the Sunday-school that had so long- engaged his efforts and prayers, cost him a degree of pain not easily to be conceived by minds less delicately attuned to the softest breathings of human and Christian sympathy. More than once he found his utterance fail him when he would say farewell, — the silent tear and warm grasp of the hand expressed what his lips refused to speak. Mr. Shepard started for Oregon on the 4th of March, 1834. He met one of his associates. Rev. Jason Lee, at Cincinnati, and Rev. Daniel Lee at St. Louis. Here these two remained to make further arrangements for their journey overland, and to overtake Mr. Shep- ard at Independence. A company, under command of Captain Wyeth, was under march for the Columbia River, and the mission family, consisting of the Messrs. Lee, Mr. Shepard, Mr. Edwards, a layman from Richmond, Mo., and Mr. Walker, who was engaged for one year to aid in the establishment of the mission, travelled in his train. Their route, though now rendered familiar to the public, as a high road of emigration to the Pacific coast, has lost none of its romance and little of its difficulty. From Independence they pro- ceeded to the waters of the Kanzas, thence nearly two hundred and fifty miles to the Platte River, and after journeying along the valley of the Platte for twenty-one days they struck the Sweetwater, by whose deep and narrow channel they were guided through the range of the Rocky Mountains, and descended towards the western ocean. They reached Haine's Fork, a branch of the Colorado, on the 19th of June, and rested for twelve days. From this point they trav- elled along the western slope of the mountains to the valley of the * Or lose thyself in the continuous woods, Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings. — Bryant, Thanatopsis. CYEUS SHEPAED. 465 Columbia, and on the 15tli of September arrived at Fort Vancou- ver, the principal establishment of the Hudson's Bay Company, having travelled one hundred and five days, and rested in camp thirty-five daj'S, since their departure from St. Louis. The original destination of the missionaries, as we have seen, was to labour among the Flathead Indians. But the tribe was much smaller than had been supposed, their continual wars with neigh- bouring ti'ibes having rapidly thinned their numbers, and at the same time made a residence among them proportionally insecure. Moreover, their remoteness from every point of communication with civilized men, involving the necessity of transporting all supplies for the mission several hundred miles, and the hazard of frequent destitution, appeared a sufficient reason for deviating from their original intention. By settling in the valley of the Willamette, they avoided these inconveniences, and, what was of more importance, had access to a larger number of Indians. For these reasons the company selected a station in that valley, leaving Mr. Shepard at Fort Vancouver to await their, preparations for active service. Here he remained till the spring of 1835. His residence at Fort Vancouver was anything but a period of idleness. There was no regular preaching there. The chief factor, Dr. McLaughlin, being a Eoman Catholic, there was a chapel for occasional worship according to that ritual within the enclosure. The service of the Church of England was read on Sundays by the second officer in command. During Mr. Shepard's wearisome jour- ney he had contrasted their secluded occasions of social prayer with the full measure of Christian privileges he gave up at Lynn, but in the solitude of the fort, with the destitution of congenial society, his mind reverted sadly to the Sabbaths he enjoyed in camp on the Kanzas, the Platte and the Columbia. But he gave way to no mur- murs or repinings. Girding himself with strength in the exercise of secret devotion, he found occupation for his active powers in teaching a school of about thirty children, French and Indian half- breeds. By a singular providence he had also under his charge three Japanese youth. They had been wrecked on the coast, and held in slavery by the Indians, from which they were ransomed by Dr. McLaughlin. They found means to disclose their situation by sending to the Fort a drawing on China paper of a junk on the rocks plundered by Indians, with three persons in captivity. Inquiries 30 466 CYKUS SHEPAED. were made, the place of tlieir detention was discovered, and they were brought to the fort.* Ko better preparation for his future employment could have been enjoj'ed by Mr. Shepard, than these engagements afforded. The character of his pupils, so different from any he had before taught, called into exercise much of that patience and sympathy, that tact and discrimination, so much needed in communicating instruction to savages. It was an intermediate sphere, by pausing in which for a time, the abruptness of a descent from a New-England school-room to his intended labours on the Willamette was sensibly diminished. The value of this to a mind so sensitive as his is not easily esti- mated. In a letter to a friend, after recounting some of his trials in the journey and after his arrival, he says: "When I reflect upon the sufferings of our Lord in the days of his flesh, to save rebel- lious man, not having where to lay his head, I blush to think that / have endured either privation or suffering, I wish to spend the remainder of my days in doing good, according to the grace of God given to me. I am as willing my body should lie with that of the red man in this region, when the spirit shall have returned to God who gave it, as that it should sleep with kindred dust. The miserable condition of these poor Indians deeply impresses my heart; and can I but be instrumental in ameliorating their condition in any degree, my life shall be cheerfully spent, and my tenement of clay worn down in their service. I thank God that I have been permit- ted to come thus far, with a desire for their salvation. I bless him for having caused me to feel the burden of their souls. It is my earnest prayer, that my small spark of missionary zeal may be kin- dled to a flame by the Holy Ghost, and henceforth stimulate me to more vigorous exertions to save souls." It ought not to be omitted that by his residence at Fort Vancou- ver, he did the mission an essential service in attracting to himself the esteem of the officers of the Hudson's Bay Company. They appreciated the excellence of his character, and were conciliated to the object of his pursuit. From their influence over the Indians, it was in their power, and they showed themselves dis- posed, to promote the purposes of the mission in various ways. So that besides the direct influence for good he was able to exert * The Hudson's Bay Company sent them to England, whence they took passagu lor China, tliere to await some means of transportation to their native country. CYRUS SHEPARD. 4,67 during his sojourn there, he had evidence that he was indirectly advancing his main errand. While thus occupied, his associates had selected an eligible sta- tion in the Willamette Valley, and with much toil had erected a rude log house for their dwelling and school. Their planks and boards were riven from logs, the doors swung on wooden hinges, their window-sashes were whittled out, and their furniture was the work of their own hands, constructed from the same unpromising mate-, rials. Eude and unsightly as it was, the purposes for which it was framed gave to the structure a higher beauty than belongs to any architectural expression, and the spirit in which its occupants toiled, made its scanty accommodations more satisfying than the most lux- urious splendours. Mr. Shepard joined them in the spring of 1835, and addressed himself to his task. For the first two or three years, much attention was necessarily given to clearing the land and other secular cares; but he gathered a school, beginning with five children, which in two years increased to more than thirty. Some adults also attended more or less regularly on the Sabbath-school. Several new mis- sionaries* arrived in 1837, and two new stations were founded. Efforts were made, with partial success, to induce the Indians to engage in agriculture and improve their habits of living. But, in 1839, things assumed a more cheering aspect in regard to spiritual progress. An old Indian doctor came to a gradual perceptioa of the truths of Christianity, and a great change was wrought in his character, giving proof that he was made wise to salvation. The work spread. Inquirers were multiplied, insomuch that all other labours were interrupted to give needful attention to them, and the work did not cease till the hopeful converts were numbered by hundreds, scattered over a large extent of country. Mr. Shepard was naturally much interested in this success, but his chief labours were in the school, which claimed from him a degree and kind of attention that would have been a task to one less humble and devoted to the good of his pupils. They were a poor, degraded set of creatures, of coarse features, some of them wilfully deformed according to the savage customs of the people, or through disease. Their manners were as coarse as their faces, * To one of these, Miss Susan Downing, a former acquaintance of Mr. ShepaH in Lynn, he was mariied, about two months after her arrival. 468 CYRUS SHEPARD.' they were slow to learn, and generally the reverse of interesting. But if they had been as lovely as the fairest inmates of a New Eng- land school, they could not have more attracted the earnest sym- pathy and care of their teacher. Besides their lessons, they had to be clothed by the mission family, and, indeed, every thing pertain- ing to personal neatness, and the whole care of their health, their labours and their recreations, fell upon their benevolent guardians. Some were Flatheads, their skulls compressed in infancy till they retreated rapidly to a narrow point, their features distorted, their whole appearance repulsive; yet Mr. Shepard overcame the feeling. "We love them very much," he wrote to a former pupil, "and they love us. Those of them who are full-blooded Indians have very flat heads. They would appear very strange to you; but we have become so accustomed to the sight that we do not mind it so much." For the first two or three years the missionaries endured many hardships, but they never grudged the care of these poor children. Their coarse fare and scanty accommodations were shared freely, and with a cheerful warmth of affection which won the hearts of all. But the main care was for their spiritual interests, and in this respect Mr. Shepard found an ample reward. The first indication that his instructions were taking root, appeared at the close of the year 1837, when an unusual interest in personal religion was shown by several of the children, and six shortly made a good profession of their faith. Others followed, and the humble school-room was vocal \vith prayer and praise. The happiness experienced by those self-denying labourers, and especially by him to whom the school was more immediately committed, cannot be described. That which causes "joy in the presence of the angels," transcends the force of human language. To do entire justice to Mr. Shepard's labours and sacrifices, it should be stated that he struggled continually against bodily weak- ness. He was much afflicted through life with scrofula, inducing a general weakness that was naturally accompanied at times by a morbid despondency. But he had none of the disposition cher- ished by many Christians, to make his discharge of duty condi- tioned on the agreeableness of his feelings. It was no part of his religion to do good merely when it was altogether pleasant and easy to do it. If it had been, he would never have set foot in Oregon a.s a missionary. There were times on his long journey between the Mississippi and Columbia, when languor and pain depressed hid CYRUS SHEPARD. 469 spirit, but though weary and sometimes lonely, he had too long walked by faith to suffer these things to move him from his stead- fastness. In 1838, his disease attacked his right knee. His sujEfer- ings were acute, and the remedies used were as painful as the dis- ease, but so long as he could keep from his bed, he was at his post in the school-room, forgetting himself in his interest for the youth gathered round him. In the fall of 1839, he was so far prostrated that he was compelled to give over his work. Still, when he could do nothing else, he sat bolstered up in bed, and busied his hands in making caps for the boys. All remedies failing to give relief, amputation was resorted to. The operation was painful, and the more difficult to be supported from the shattered state of his gen- eral sj'stem, but he never murmured; patience sealed his lips, except as they were parted now and then to exclaim, " God is goodP'' He lay helpless, but ever ready to utter sentiments of gratitude and praise, till the morning of New-Year's-day, 1840, when he resigned his spirit to Him whose he was, and whom he had so faithfully served. Mr, Shepard, it must not be supposed, attained to the excellence which his maturer years disclosed, without much exertion and severe self-discipline. No one ever does. A sensitive mind united to a frail body, he was quickly susceptible to crosses and disappoint- ments, and Avas sometimes prone to hasty words, but he watched and restrained his constitutional faults — never indulged or palliated them. His Christian course was a warfare, but it had the promise of victory, which he lived to win through grace. He was thor- oughly simple, guileless, transparent, winning confidence by the plain sincerity always noticeable in his demeanour. His humility was deep and unaffected, and his faith, in a consciousness of his own weakness, took the firmer hold on that strength which is made perfect in weakness. Through faith and patience he inherited the promises, and he rested on them and felt able to plead them with assured confidence. Hence, whatever personal trials hedged up his path at times, he never doubted as to the success of his labours, for he attempted them in concert with a Power that is irresistible, prompted by Love all-pervading as the divine essence. His faith was that which '■^loorlceth by love." It was as far as possible removed from indolent expectation. That God wrought in him, he was well persuaded, and therefore he worked with his might. What his hand found to do, he did, and he found a great 470 CYRUS SlIEPARU. reward. This is tlie lesson of his life, — that without eminent gifts or great advantages, — with nothing more of natural or acquired ability than thousands possess, who are contented to live after the most commonplace standard admitted by society, — it is possible to be eminently useful to the church, and the world, to contribute to the redemption of man, to the happiness of heaven, and to the glory of the Lord. /r/f^ i^>^^ %. SON .M Hepburn uas been called ''tl V. .-,ni>jiion, the exact justK-v great fact it uDcloubteilly is — v. Ma^'bole. in Ayrs.} ' land, S<. : c'^' ''■■' •' -^ ^' ■ • I'Ut that !« bov, ' . > . i i It Culrc u being aoie to move his little congregatiou ;. •is declamation. After five or six years in Ei^giuiiu, ^u riointed in 1825 ont-ocbial tcael'ertyf Dalraellington, and b . ' rodigious reader in a desultory ^' "' vourse of study, is own way tu itary and unaided •ored into H- ' ■ :f U- f4- if< n- 'yf- k Edinburgh. The co-npeti- tJOli of ttl «-*AkJ UC*lJ,\_/^»-4. /le off the immmmmxfs^ii. 'h' ^ ■»:: #■ ?4- M-- a^- '^ z-^- 472 vr. II. iiEW'iTsoN. palm both in the classics and in logic. In both, his attainments were not only brilliant, but thorough. He was not content to translate, decline and conjugate the classic authors, but, going beyond verbal analysis and textual subtleties, he read and digested them. He both acquired the art and the capacity of reasoning, and showed a force and fruitfulness of thought that exceeded the expectations of his best friends. This was abundantly shown after completing, in 1837, his university course in the arts, by an essay "on the Nature, Causes and Effects of National Character," a theme proposed for a university prize. It received the offered award, and Professor Wilson solicited its publication. A little while before, so flattering a request would have been complied with at once, but a change had already come over the student's mind. He was roused from his dreams of fame by remorse for the Godless, soul-destroying selfishness of his ambi- tion. He had looked forward through all his course to the Christian ministry; he felt that he was without the needful preparation of spirit; nay, that in his insane pursuit of applause, — for such it now appeared — he had done himself all but fatal injury. Thenceforth he essayed to enter on a new course, to deny himself and his worldly desires, and to give himself in all humility to his sacred calling. In November, 1838, he entered the Divinity Hall of Edinburgh, then presided over by Dr. Chalmers. With seriousness and gravity, subduing but not suppressing his scholarly enthusiasm, he gave all diligence to master the heights of theological and biblical lore. But with all his earnestness he was yet a stranger to the simplicity of the gospel, and it was not till the lapse of about two years, and after severe wrestlings with unbelieving self-righteousness, that he found the peace and rest of genuine faith. The change was great. lie had been known as a profound scholar, a sober and strict student in divinity, exemplary in his behaviour, and giving promise of unu- sual power and brilliancy. He was now, beside and above these, a devoted servant of Christ, desiring to follow his Lord in all things, counting it most blessed "to have an ear deaf to the world's music, but all awake to Him who is 'the chief among ten thousand, and alto- gether lovely.'" The distinctions he had sought with such ardour, and which, he believed, were a snare to his soul, he renounced, and even sold his university medal, — an act which may have been wise, but we must think was by no means a self-evident duty. His severe and protracted studies had effected his body as well as his soul. Indeed, he was imprudent to the last degree, and in the W. H. HEWITSON. 473 spring of 1841 found it necessary to seek relaxation by going into Fifeshire as a private tutor. While here, he was laid low by a fever, soon after recovering from which, symptoms of incipient pulmonary disease warned him that his hold on life could only be retained by the utmost care. The now sainted McCheyne had long desired him as a colleague in the pastoral office, and he desired no better station ; but it was not so to be. He was licensed in the spring of 1842, and in June went to Bonn, in Germany, as the invited companion of a peer who proposed a temporary residence there. An inflammatory attack brought him to the verge of the grave, and in September he retraced his steps homeward. Here he remained till the autumn of 1844, in a state of strict seclusion, unable, in the opinion of his phj^sicians, to preach with safety, but inwardly strengthening him- self for what awaited him,* His letters show that he drank deeply of the wells of salvation, entered more intimately than ever into the spirit of his blessed Master, and was ripening for most effective service, should he be permitted to serve in the church, and for the most exquisite enjoj^ments of Paradise, should he be soon removed thither. He was ordained, November 6, 1844, by the (Free Church) Presbytery of Edinburgh, and appointed as a missionary to the Por- tuguese of Madeira, a hazardous service, but one from which he was not the man to shrink. His destination having been incautiously announced in a newspaper, he thought it best to go first to Lisbon, where he arrived early in December. AVith an ease that attests the native vigour and thorough training of his mind, he mastered the Portuguese language in about two months, and in February set sail for Madeira. This island, from its salubrity much resorted to by invalids, con- tains a population of one hundred and twelve thousand, of a race apparently mixed of Portuguese and Moors, — more athletic and comely than the Portuguese, but ignorant, and, until lately, held contentedly by a superstition that exerted a stronger repressive force on the intellect and conscience than on the passions. This, which is true of Romanism every where, was especially true in Madeira. * In this process we do not include his millenarian speculations, which he enthusi- astically prosecuted. Without affirming that such a result is necessary — for it did not appear in his case or that of Henry Fox — it is certain that in many minds such opinions cut the sinews of missionary effort, and exert anything but a favourable iiilluence on Christian character. 474 W. H. HEWITSON. From tlie number of foreign residents, an Episcopal and a Presby- terian Churcli existed at Funchal, but nothing was done for the natives till about 1838, when Dr. Kalley, a pious English physician, commenced distributing the Bible and holding meetings for religious conference in his house. In 1840 the interest of the people in the Scriptures had so much increased that many adults went to school that they might learn to read the Bible. Soon the meetings had to be held in the open air. For several months in 1842, from one thousand to three thousand assembled, and once they were reckon d at five thousand. The great truths of redemption, of peace iu believing and the hope of glory, became in some places topics of common conversation in the fields and highways. The ecclesiastical authorities now bestirred themselves. A pas- toral was issued, describing the Bible as "a book from hell," and threatening with excommunication all who should read it. An order was promulgated suppressing the schools, a number of which Dr. Kal- ley had instituted, that the people might read the Scriptures for them- selves. Two persons only had openly renounced popery, and received the communion at the Presbyterian church. They were excommu- nicated. Dr. Kalley was forbidden to speak on religious subjects. The order was illegal, contrary to the charter of Portugal, and he paid no attention to it. Then the people were forbidden to hear him, and many poor persons were imprisoned or beaten for so doing. A wealthy gentleman at once broke the order, to test its legality. He was prosecuted, and the court decided that no person could be hin- dered from entering another's house with the owner's consent. Dr. Kalley was prosecuted, but discharged, no illegal act having been proved against him. The magistrate having left the island, another functionary arbitrarily reversed the sentence, and he was imprisoned six months. In the summer of 1844, as if to make their baseness conspicuous in the eyes of the whole world, Mrs. Maria Joachina Alves was torn from a family of seven children to answer a charge of apostasy, heresy and blasphemy. The test of guilt was simple. She was asked if she believed "the consecrated host to be the real body and real blood and the human soul and divinity of Jesus Christ," and assured that her life depended on the answer. Pausing a moment, she calmly replied, "I do not believe it." Sentence of death was immediately passed. The sentence was set aside on account of a technical inform- ality in the wording of it; but the court at Lisbon, in communicating W. H. HEWITSON. 475 their decision, distinctly stated that but for this error of the judge the punishment would have been certainly executed, — an avowal of their readiness to shed blood at the dictation of the priesthood, which is commended to the consideration of those who affirm that popery has changed with the lapse of time.* The public papers denounced Dr. Kalley in the most intemperate manner, even recommending his assassination; it was observed that the cudgel would be a forcible argument with the country people, and a repetition of St. Bartholomew's day or the Sicilian Vespers was hinted at. The authorities took no notice of these threats, and thus emboldened their authors to perpetrate the worst outrages. Persons were stoned and cruelly beaten, houses were burned, fami- lies were refused places of burial except in the highway, and bodies deposited there were taken up and burned by direction of the police. In one parish fifty soldiers were quartered, and suffered to go all lengths in plunder and violence. Twenty-two men and women were transported to Funchal, and there confined in prison without any allowance of food. Their sufferings were great, but, like the "pris- oners of the Lord" in Philippi, they "prayed and sang praises" in the midst of their enemies. This was not to be endured, and they were silenced. Mass, which had never been said for the benefit of other prisoners, was now observed with carefulness, and these per- sons were dragged to chapel, and forced upon their knees before the host. For refusing to perform idolatrous rites, some were thrust into a filthy dungeon. After an imprisonment of twenty months, they were tried and acquitted, but not discharged till they paid jail fees for their inhuman and illegal detention. The narrative of Dr. Kal- ■ ley is a recital of cruelty and baseness, perpetrated in the name of religion, to which it is not easy to find a parallel. The Portuguese government, in clear violation of the charter, took sides with the persecutors. Dr. Kalley was warned by Lord Aber deen that he would not be supported by the British government, — ■ a determination not very honourable to his lordship and his col- leagues; for surely as long as a British subject did not transgress the laws of Portugal, he had a claim to protection against imprison- ment and violence. In these circumstances, the opportune arrival of Mr. Hewitson enabled him to resign the work into the hands of * Especially when taken in connection with avowals of Archbishop Hughes, of 0. A. Brownson, and leading Romanists in France. 470 W. H. HEWITSON. one having every qualification for its successful prosecution, and wjio was prepared to brave any extremity of danger for Christ's sake. The peril was indeed extreme, the enemy was thoroughly aroused, but he had the true spirit of John Knox. He feared not the face of clay. At the period of Mr. Hewitson's arrival only twenty-two persons had renounced popery, but a large number were earnestly searching the Scriptures and seeking the way of life. He commenced holding conferences in a private apartment. Small numbers only were encouraged to come at once, lest an alarm should be prematurely raised. The converts desired to receive the Lord's Supper, which was first administered in March, 1845, with great secresy, to thirty- four persons. The priests detected his proceedings, and became vigilant. The meetings were discontinued, and instead of them the people were invited to come by two's and three's. Their thirst for instruction was affecting, and persons would often anxiously inquire when their turn would come. It was a most laborious method, try- ing to the patience and exhausting to both body and mind ; but, though phj'sically weak, Mr. Hewitson gave himself to his tasks with all his heart. The number of communicants soon increased to sixty. In May the police watched his house so strictly that he was compel- led to suspend most of his labours for a time. The cloud grew darker. The Bishop of Madeira avowed a determination to seize all the Bibles on the island. Several persons were examined by the magistrates as to his teachings, but enough was not extracted from them to afford plausible grounds for prosecution, and in June the meetings were resumed, with great caution. Five converts were imprisoned, however, and notice was given that all persons who should not appear at church and confession would be proceeded against. In August he was formally served with a process prohibiting him from holding religious meetings. He complied for a short time, and meanwhile wrote to the Colonial Committee of the Free Church for advice. Should the work, which the Lord had so abundantly pros- pered, be now suspended? "I may have been violating Portuguese laws," he writes, "but I have been obeying the law of Christ, whose sole supremacy over the church in Portugal, as well as in Scotland, and whose prerogatives as King of kings, no human legislature or court of justice is competent to set aside. The only commission which the minister of the gospel absolutely requires, is that which W. H. HEWITSON. 477 bears the seal of Jesus: 'All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations.' Who, in heaven or in earth, can nullify this commission?". . , "Such considerations arise in my mind in connection with my present circumstances; but I don't yet see clearly what course should be adopted as the most scriptural. To continue my labours, in any degree, much longer, will inevitably subject me to the threatened prosecution. Yet I cannot see it to be my duty, on this account, to abandon them alto- gether. When the risk of being apprehended is more imminent, I might flee from the island, but I am not certain that such a step "would be consistent with entire faithfulness to Christ." He resumed his meetings under cover of night. What his ene- mies might have done at this crisis is uncertain, but he was seized with a dangerous illness, which confined him for five weeks, and left him much weakened for a considerable time. On his recovery, per- ceiving that dangers thickened round his head, he changed his resi- dence, and at the same time adopted a new expedient. The good work, he found, was making a silent progress by the agency of little meetings, where two or three gathered together for reading the Scriptures and for edifying conversation. He now gathered a class of sixteen promising young men, whom he carefully instructed, that they might be qualified to serve as catechists; so that in case he was driven from the island, the word of God might not be bound or the progress of truth seriously hindered. But he could not be kept back from more direct efforts, and preached every week, shifting his assemblies from place to place, to elude observation. All effort was, however, vain. The bishop urged the magistrates to action, • perseverance would only precipitate the blow, and he finally decided to leave the island, hoping that his absence for a few months might in some measure restore quiet. He accordingly announced his pur- pose, and remained only long enough to take his class of catechists through the course of study originally proposed, and in May, 1846, he returned to Scotland. The dreaded persecution soon came with unrestrained fury. On Sunday morning, August 2d, as thirty or forty of the converts "were assembled at the dwelling of an English family to hear a pas- toral letter from Mr. Hewitson, a mob, instigated by one of the canons of the cathedral, besieged the house till midnight. By this time money and liquor had wrought them up to the desired pitch of excitement, and they began breaking the windows and beating at 478 W. H. HEWITSON. the door. On being warned of the illegal character of their pro- ceedings, they shouted, "There are no laws for Calvinists!" and resumed the attack. The doors were forced and the rabble entered. The police had remained inactive for hours, and came at last, doubt- less expecting that the murderous enterprise was accomplished. But the intended victims had only just been discovered, and one of them knocked down with a bludgeon. Two of the mob were carried to prison, and the inmates of the house were left in security. A week later Dr. Kalley overheard the soldiers who had been set to guard his house, with some men in masks, concerting his murder on the morrow. No time was to be lost. Disguising himself as a peasant, he concealed himself in the house of a friend. Mrs. Kalley, on her way to the same shelter the next morning, heard their fate openly talked about in the street. " Those who are in that house," said one to another, "will need, to-day, to be sure of salvation." About noon, at the conclusion of services in honour of "Our Lady of the Mount," a rocket was fired as a signal for the attack. A dense crowd surrounded the house, burst the door, and rushed in. Enraged at not finding their victims, they committed the doctor's library to the flames, and went away in search for him. Meanwhile, Dr. Kalley, in female attire and concealed in a hammock, was borne to the pier. There was just time to get into a boat when the ruffians arrived at the spot. The boat was speedily alongside the steamer. Dr. Kalley was safely on board, confronting the immense multitude that thirsted for his blood. Then the storm which had been so long gathering burst on the devoted heads of the "Calvinists." They fled to the mountains, where they were remorselessly hunted by the hounds of holy church. One was murdered, others received injuries believed to be mortal, numbers were beaten sorely to compel them to confess. In despair of justice or compassion from the government, they decided to emi- grate. During Mr. Hewitson's labours, he had written to the Colonial Committee: "I believe — I know it for a fact — that there are some here who read the Bible in secret and look to Christ alone for salva- tion, without having boldness enough in the Lord to confess him openly. Elijah was the only public witness for God in Israel, yet* God had in Israel seven thousand hidden worshippers." But even he could hardly have suspected the number of these unrevealed dis- ciples in Madeira. One company after another, despoiled of their goods and driven from their habitations, took refuge on ship-board. W. H. HEWITSON. 479 all about EIGHT hundred exiles for Christ's sake were convej^ed CO Trinidad and other West-India islands. Truly, a mighty cloud of witnesses, to give testimony to the power of truth undefiled! The word of the Lord had proved, in more than one sense, "as a fire;" — it had swept, during two years, like fire in a prairie. It was evidently fire from heaven, kindling the flame of holiness, and making more than ever visible the deformities of that superstition that with "darkness dared affront its light." Mr. Hewitson arrived at home about the end of June. Longino: after his brethren in Madeira, his joy and crown, and greatly desir- ing shortly to be once more with them, though at the hazard of life, the news of their exile greatly afflicted him. It was proposed that he should follow them to Trinidad, a suggestion he gladly ado23ted, but it was needful that immediate provision should be made for their oversight. Senhor Arsenio da Silva, a gentleman who had been an elder of the church at Madeira, but was compelled to leave before the general dispersion, and was now at Lisbon, was ordained for this work. Mr. Hewitson continued in Scotland till January, 1847, when he set sail for Trinidad. He touched at Madeira, where he found that the good seed was not extirpated. He was conve3'ed in a palanquin, shrouded from unfriendly eyes, to the house of an acquaintance, and there enjoyed some hours of conver- sation with Christian brethren and inquirers. Thus refreshed in spirit, he went on his way, and reached Port of Spain, Trinidad, on the 28th. He found in the neighbourhood three hundred of the converts, and one hundred and fifty in other parts of the island, exclusive of some who found refuge in other islands. The number in Trinidad subsequently rose to seven hundred. It is needless to say that he met a hearty welcome. He found that the pressure of per- secution being removed, there was somewhat less of fervent piety among his flock ; they were no longer driven to walk with God as a refuge from the fear of man; but nothing was apparent that justified doubt as to the sincerity of their profession, or the vitality of their faith. In the absence of pastoral supervision — for Mr. Da Silva had not arrived as soon as was expected — some divisions had arisen, a few had become Baptists, other questions agitated them, and caused a measure of unhappiness which it was his first endeavour to soothe. He was diligent in his calling, preached to the Portuguese of tlio island, as well as to the exiled Madeirenses, and also visited other 480 w. n, riEwiTsoN. inlands. His abundant labours, in a tropical climate, enfeebled his frame, and his stay there was brief. On Mr. Da Silva's arrival, he resigned to him his beloved charge, and before the end of summer was once more in Scotland. In the spring of 18-18, he was settled over the congregation at Dirleton, in East Lothian, about twenty miles from Edinburgh. He entered on his ministry here with all the ardour of his soul, and scarcely a month passed withoAit evidence that the word he preached was blessed to the salvation of some. Decided and uncompromising in presenting "the doctrines of grace," he preached with a solemn tenderness that greatly won upon his hearers. And he was not one of those ministers who suffer their deportment out of the pulpit to present a broad contrast to their preaching. His presence seemed to diffuse a vital warmth, the radiance of a love ever freshly kindled from on high. His conversation was in heaven. Thither he tended, more rapidly than his friends at first suspected. For pulmonary consumption, the seeds of which were lurking in his frame during his whole course, speedily made fatal inroads on his strength, and brought him to his grave in a little more than two years after his settlement. He departed on the 7th of August, 1850, having endured extreme suffering not only with patience, but with such views of Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, such joyful commu- nion with the Mediator of the New Covenant, so assured an expecta tion of soon mingling with the spirits of just men made perfect, — that it was an inestimable privilege to partake of the solace that flowed from his lips with increasing fulness till they were sealed in death. Mr. Hewitson, as has been abundantly manifest, was a man of uncommon mental capacity. He had a penetrating insight, a power of subtle analysis, a ready discrimination, not to be easily baffled oi eluded. He early showed a taste for metaphysical speculation, and it was from no incapacity to thrid those labyrinthine defiles of thought that he declined the pursuit. We are inclined to doubt, in spite of the testimony of his biographer, and of a project for an epic poem found among his manuscripts, whether he combined a poetical imagination with gifts so seldom found in company with it. His industry made him master of much learning, which did not in turn master him. The charm of his conversation was acknowledged by W. H. HEWITSOX. 481 all who were privileged to have intercourse with him even for a few minutes, and time did not dispel the pleasure. But his great distinction was the unvarying spirituality that shed a discernible grace over his whole deportment. He was jealous of everything that should intercept his view of Him who was his life, and whose "appearing" he most truly loved. Instant in prayer, mighty in the Scriptures, rejoicing in hope, faithful in rebuke and admonition, warning every man with tears, redeeming the time for that the day was far spent, his course on earth was plainly the beginning of a more than common measure of joy hereafter. 31 GROVER SMITH COM STOCK. Grover Smith Comstock, third son of Dr. Oliver C. Comstock, was born at Ulysses, N. Y., March 24th, 1809. He was blessed with a sound constitution, and under the wise care of his parents, and with abundant exercise, he grew up to manhood with a remark- able fulness, strength, and symmetry of physical development, being six feet in height, well proportioned, and with a countenance and air of exceeding manliness. His body was an index to his mind, which was strong and aspiring, eminently healthful and robust. In boyhood, as might be supposed, he was a leader in the amusements common to that period of life, in which he showed himself unusu- ally daring and adventurous. But he was a dutiful son, and exem- plary in his behaviour, not allowing his love of adventure to degenerate into idle and aimless pursuits. At school, those who remarked him foremost in play, were surprised at his unfailing readiness and accuracy in recitation. He carried the same whole- heartedness into every thing, his studies and recreations, his indi- vidual purposes, and the offices of friendship. There was nothing hollow about him, nothing to awaken distrust. He attracted and deserved confidence in all his relations. His course as a scholar was uniformly creditable, from the earliest beginnings to his final graduation at Hamilton College, in 1827; and while enjoying largely the esteem of his fellows, his deportment was such, in all respects, as to command the approbation of his teachers. Having completed his college course, he commenced the study of law, under able instructors, and pursued it with diligence for three years. He was admitted to practice in the Supreme Court of the State of New-York in July, 1830, and formed a connec- tion in professional business with a leading barrister in Eoches- ter. His evident ability, the honourable distinction he had won as a scholar, the purity of his character, and his amiable deportment, commended him to all, and seldom has a young man entered on .ife with fairer prospects of re];)utation and emolument. 48-i G. S. COMSTOCK. But his career in the profession was destined to be brief. For a few months it engrossed his energies, but the year 1831, memor- able in the religious history of Rochester, opened to his view another and a higher field for the exercise of his powers. His religious culture had not been neglected. From a child, he had known the holy Scriptures, and if they had not made him wise unto salvation, it was from no defect of instruction and devout solicitude on the part of his parents. At this time his mind was aroused, in common with multitudes, to the serious consideration of the claims of religion, and was brought to an intelligent and cordial submission to them. His conduct evinced the sincerity of liis open profession. All his powers were surrendered to the ser- vice of his Divine Master. He bore full testimony to the excellency of the gospel, visiting from house to house, distributing tracts, reading the Scriptures, conversing with any who would accept his humble efforts for their highest good. It was not possible that one so singly devoted to the service of religion, should long consent to divide it with a profession which makes such drafts on the strongest intellect. He was not the man to shrink from labour, and had he been satisfied with the rewards of the pursuit, he would most cheerfully have submitted to "live like a hermit, and work like a horse," — the course prescribed by a late Lord Chancellor of England, as necessary to success at the bar. But higher aims, calling for no less activity and endurance, now filled his vision. Having united with the First Baptist Church in Rochester, of which his father was then the pastor, he signified his desire to enter the Christian minis- try, deeming it his duty, he said, "to occupy that position which should enable him to do the most good in the world." The church needed no urging to accept of such a candidate for the sacred office, and with great unanimity approved of his proposal. He pursued the study of theology for one year, in the Hamilton Literary and Theological Institution, (now incorporated as Madison University,) with all his constitutional energy, nerved by the influences and guided by the restraints of a simple, scriptural piety. The recurrence from active life to one of study, indeed, would not have been in itself pleasing, but he was ever looking forward, leaving the things that were behind, and fixing his vision on the great duties for which he was prepai'ing. When thinking of what he had enjoyed in Rochester, he said, "I experienced a sort of pleasing melancholy ; but in this there is no profit and no religion, — so away G. S. COMSTOCK. 485 with it." On liis past course and present state as a Cliristian, he ever spoke with humble self-distrust, as one aiming continually at liigher attainments. "I do believe," he writes to a friend, shortly after entering on his studies, "that God requires all the services of his children, that he expects them all to be constantly active in his service, and that he is willing to bless all the efforts which are made with a sincere desire to promote his glory." But he complains of a great distance from such entireness of consecration. "I firmly believe that unless I am more holy, and have more of the spirit of my Master, I never can do good in the world. I am as proud as Lacifer, and constantly forget that I am not my own." The studies that engaged his mind, enlisted his powers, not more by the force of sympathy with the pursuits to which they were preparatory than by their intrinsic worth and excellence, and he seems to have cherished a most affectionate interest in the companions and the scene of his brief theological course. In the prospect of its termination, he writes : "The time when I am to leave these consecrated walls, and the dear brethren with whom I have been permitted to associate here, hastens on. The parting hand must soon be taken, and the last look cast upon those to whom I am united by the strong ties of Christian fellow- ship and love. These things begin to look like realities, but they seem to produce very little effect upon my feelings. Nor is it par- ticularly desirable that they should." Not desirable, certainly, to any such degree as that they should interfere with the cheerful discharge of the duties that moved them alike to associate and to separate, — but no effort of the will could restrain the spontaneous out-goings of a genuine Christian affection. The missionary spirit, as it is, in truth, only another name for that love which is of the essence of evangelical piety, sprung up in Mr. Comstock's mind in the dawn of his Christian life. His purpose to consecrate himself to the w^ork had its inception at so early a period, and was formed so gradually, that he was hardly conscious of the process. Such at least would be the natural interpretation of a passage occurring in a letter to a frequent correspondent,* writ- ten after his appointment as a missionary: "I often think of my saying to you one evening, half seriously, that I would be a mission- * To whom, though not at liberty to allude by name, the editor is bound to express his obligations for the privilege of perusing a deeply interesting and valuable collection of Mr. Comstock's letters. •136 G. S. COMSTOCK. ajy to Burmali. That was the same fall iii which I indulged hope. "Vou thought me then not very serious in what I said, but still, from that time, I used to cherish a secret intention of bearing to the heathen the glad tidings of salvation." During the progress of his studies, this intention was confirmed and divulged. The missionary spirit was then, as it has since been, active at Hamilton, prompting numbers to give themselves to the cause. He writes, under date of March 1, 1882: "Two of my classmates have written this term to the Secretary of the Board of the General Convention, offering themselves as missionaries. Brother Dean had already done so. May the number be increased! I sometimes think that I am shut out from this privilege by the requirement of the Board: 'That such persons only as are in full communion with some regular church of our denomination, and who furnisli satisflictory evidence of ijenuine piety^ good talents, ViwX fervent zeal for the Redeemer's cause, are to be employed as missionaries.' IIow unlike my character! I do not know that I shall ever offer myself to the Board, but I do feel that it would be an inestimable privilege to tell the story of Calvary to the perishing heathen." For this privilege, after due deliberation, he sought by a formal application to the Board within a few months, and received a favourable answer. ■• At the close of his theological studies, he entered on a specific preparation for the field of his appointment. Mr. Wade, of the Burman mission, had arrived in this country in May, 1833, bringing with him two of the native converts, Moung Shwa Moung, a Burman, and Ko Chetthing, a Karen. As eight persons were designated for that mission, it was thought practicable for them to pursue in this country the study of the languages in which they were to preach, under the instruction of Mr. Wade with the assistance of the natives accompanying him. A school was accordingly opened for this pur- pose at Hamilton on the 20th of June, and continued nine months. Mr. Comstock addressed himself to the acquisition of the Burmese with characteristic perseverance, though dealing with a tongue so foreign to western modes of thought and speech was adapted to put liis patience to the proof In a letter dated August 14, he gives a lively description of his daily employment: "At half-past eight I go to the school-room, and remain oung-mg, ■writing, &c., till noon; then of course comes dinner; at half-past one, in school again till five, and then tea, exercise, meetings, &c. G. S. COMSTOCK. 487 You know my motto is, 'variety is the spice of life/ and on the whole I contrive to get some variety into my daily routine of duties. In our lessons we vary from wa-swa to yap-pen, from yap-pen to Aa- to; and then again we oung awhile, after which we write, recite, talk, laugh, &c. So you see there is variety in my pursuits, although there seems to be so much sameness." — "We are succeeding pretty well, I think. I don't know but I shall be able after a while to make something bearing a faint resemblance to the sounds of Bur- man words. At any rate, I shall not give up the ship yet. I will labour among the Burmans if the Lord permit." In November, he says: "Our progress in acquiring the language has been quite satis- factory, at least to ourselves. We have translated the Gospel of John, except the first six or seven chapters, and reviewed it to the sixteenth. We are also succeeding very well in acquiring the sounds, so much so that Moung Shway Moung sometimes says, after we have read perhaps two pages, 'Good plenty.'" As the time for his departure approached, the tone of his feelings was perceptibly raised. He had commenced his preparation for the ministry with a lowly sense of his personal fitness for the work and his dependance on aid from above, and this spirit he cherished. "It is a fearful thing," he said, as he looked out from the seminary on the lot assigned him in the world, "for a minister of Jesus Christ to be left to his own strength and wisdom." But his perception of the fulness of divine power offered to humble faith grew stronger, and armed him with a corresponding confidence. In a letter, written about two months before his embarkation, he says: "I have been thinking a good deal about that strength in God which it is the privilege and duty of Christians to possess. We are very weak of ourselves, I know; we are 'worms of the dust,' 'of yesterday, and know nothing;' but, after all, we can do all things through Christ strengthening us. 'In the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength,' and I believe it is the privilege of Christians to draw on it, and use it in the service of God. We are exhorted to 'be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might,' and is not this practicable? 1 do not believe the Lord ever designed the saints to be that puny, ineificient, fearful race which they so generally are. Do you? If not, let us venture upon the strength of God, and, attempting great things, expect great things." The company with which he was associated consisted of Mr. and 488 6. S. COMSTOCK. Mrs. Wade, with the two native converts, whose presence in this country had excited a wide and warm interest in the mission of which they were the visible fruit, and Messrs. Howard, Vinton, Dean* and Osgood, their wives and Miss Gardner, — the largest com- pany of missionaries that had been sent out at one time. On the 29th of June, 1834, on the eve of his embarkation, Mr. Comstock gave utterance to his feelings in a brief note. " To-morrow," he says, "is fixed for the day of sailing. Yes, the time has come to sunder all the tender ties which bind me to parents, friends and country. And they shall be freely sundered. I rejoice in the work which God has assigned me. The providences of God have been such toward me that I cannot doubt my duty. And let us do our duty, cost what it may." How much it cost him would never have been more than suspected from his own language, for without any of that unnatural denial of human sympathies which some persons palm upon themselves as specially manly^ he was not wont to parade his sensibilities; and in this instance he exercised a little more self- restraint, as he afterwards intimated, that he might not stimulate the emotions of his friends by too freely yielding to them himself But to his latest hour he never ceased to recur with fond recollection to the friends whose Christian affection had done so much for Itis hap- piness on earth, and had prepared them for more perfect enjoyment when they should hereafter be reunited. Nothing in their voyage (except the circumstance of its length) made it to differ essentially from others. The number of passengers united in spirit and purpose relieved its tedium, and permitted it to be profitable to all. Mr. Comstock appears to have enjoyed it, after getting released from the necessary probation of sea-sickness. In quiet evening hours his mind found solace, not sorrow, in remem- brance of the past. "I admire summer sunsets," he writes, "but I never saw anything on land equal to the gorgeous beauty of some sunsets which I have recently witnessed. I do delight to take my Feat on the stern of the vessel, and watch the 'king of day' as he retires majestically to his ocean rest. Often then does my mind wander to Rochester, and dwell for a season with' affectionate inter- est upon the dear friends I have left for ever. Again, on a clear moonlight evening, I resume my seat, and the scenes of other days rush unbidden upon my recollection. Do you ask if anything of sadness and regret mingles with my thoughts of distant friends and * Mr. Dean was designated to the Siam mission, and is now labourino; in China. G. S. COMSTOCK. 489 past pleasures? 0, no! I would be grateful that I have ever had such dear friends as I have left, and experienced those enjoyments which are now for ever past. God in kindness has granted me rich blessings, but shall I love the gifts more than the Giver? Shall I not most cheerfully relinquish them at his bidding? Yes, let me give up all for Christ, who gave his life a ransom for my soul." The vessel arrived at Maul main in December, where Mr. Com- stock remained about two months, waiting for a passage to Arracan, the destined field of his labours, during which time he greatly enjoyed the society of missionaries at that important station. He reached Kyouk Phyoo, the place selected for his solitary toils, his wife alone sharing them, on the 4th of March, 1835. A suitable residence was procured, and having some knowledge of the Bur- mese, he was ready to commence his labours at once. The province of Arracan, formerly a part of the Burman empire, but acquired by the English at the conclusion of the war in 1826, lies on the eastern shore of the Bay of Bengal ; having on the north the province of Chittagong, which separates it from Bengal and Assam ; on the east, the Yoma mountains, forming a barrier against the Burman dominions; and on the south and west, the waters of the bay. It extends about five hundred miles in length, and is nearly one hundred miles wide at the northern extremity, but gradually narrows till it terminates in Cape Negrais with a breadth not exceeding three miles. Its area is about sixteen thousand five hundred square miles, inhabited by a population estimated to num- ber two hundred and fifty thousand. The country has been con- quered and much oppressed. The people are mostly of a race called Mugs, but they bear a near resemblance to the Burmans, only degraded by servitude, speak the same language and profess the same religion. They are extremely ignorant, superstitious, and dis- trustful of strangers, — their experience of alien domination having given them too much reason for such a feeling. It would readily be conjectured that their moral state was unpromising. The vices which paganism universally nourishes, had been stimulated by the political and social degradation they long suffered, giving to their character an aspect which at once demonstrated their need of Chris- tianity, and was fitted to discourage all efforts to communicate it. Mr. Comstock made a tour very soon after his arrival, to become acquainted with his extensive parish, in the course of which he 490 G. S. COMSTOCK. preached and distributed tracts. The novelty of his teachings drevr the people around him in co^vsiderable numbers, so that though he made no perceptible impression on their minds, he found great delight in making known to such multitudes, for the first time, the existence of an eternal God, their relations to the divine govern- ment, and the only Name whereby they must be saved. Returning to Kyouk Phyoo, he set up two schools, one in English, and gave himself to more circumscribed and systematic labour, which he varied by excursions into various parts of the country. His situa- tion was one that called into requisition all his natural buoyancy of feeling and all the spiritual resources his faith could command. There was no missionary nearer than Akj^ab, about a hundred miles away, and the English residents at Kj'ouk Phyoo, though never wanting in courtesy or respect, had no sympathy with his religious spirit or purposes. He had as little sympathy with the unceasing effort they felt compelled to make, by dinner parties and other gay- eties, to kill time and make life endurable. He declined entering much into their society, on the plea that it would interfere with his missionary engagements. "They think our course strange," he remarks, "but I cannot help it. I might occasionally get a very rare dinner, but the soul would famish in consequence of it." Yet, though lonely, he could say: " We are a happy family. 0 that we were holy! My feelings in reference to personal holiness have been somewhat different daring the last few months from what they ever were before. I am not holy, dear E., far from it, but I am groaning to be delivered from the power of sin. I want to be conformed to the image of my blessed Master. I want to be wholly sanctified. 0, how hateful and defiling is sin — how desirable is holiness! And why should we be the slaves of sin and sense? I am not anxious to fix the precise limits of Christian attainment in this life, but I am confident that we may possess such a frame of mind, that the least sin (if the phrase is allowable) will very soon bring us on our knees before God; and that we cannot rest without enjoying constant communion with God." These feelings were unmingled with a particle of spiritual pride. "Now do not think," he says, very characteristically, in the conclusion of the letter, "that I have made any very surprising advances in piety, for I have not." The sole charge of all departments of the mission pressed heavily upon the solitary pair. The native school was taught by Mrs. Com- G. S. COMSTOCK. 491 stock, while her husband divided his attention between the English school, his necessary studies, preaching and conversing with the people. The utility of instruction in English, in all such cases, is prospective rather than immediate. It is designed to raise up a small class of natives who will be the medium of introducing the science and literature of Europe and America to their countrymen, and who, as ministers of the gospel, should the truth " make them free," will have access to the treasures of theological lore contained in our language, thus becoming in every respect the intellectual and rspiritual guides of their people. Besides this important work, it was necessary to devote considerable time to studying the language and sacred literature of the Burmans, that he might be more flxmiliar with the popular modes of thought and the superstitions by which they were bound. But his most engaging task was the proclamation of the gospel to all who would hear. At his house, in places of public resort and in occasional tours sometimes to a great distance, he deliv- ered his message, combatted the delusions of the people, silenced cavillers, and reasoned with such as appeared to be candid inquirers. "I think the habits of thought which I acquired in my law days," he writes to a friend in the profession, "are of great benefit to me here. In talking with the natives, it is necessary to be as circumspect as you would be in drawing special pleadings. Everything must be stated, and in its proper order. If you leave out anything material to your case, they will quickly perceive it, and if you start anything irrelevant to it, they will generally remark it. Having learned this, I try to declare the truth in such a manner that they can find noth- ing to object to except the truth itself. While the natives admire this method of argument, and will notice a departure from it in another, they are very far from pursuing it themselves. They have been so long accustomed to believe whatever the priests say, or the sacred books declare, that they think no other evidence is necessary. It is, too, exceedingly difficult to keep them to one point for any length of time, and when you have brought them so near to any of the absurdities or falsehoods of their religion that they see what is before them, you have to examine and cross-examine as closely as you would if endeavouring to draw out an important fact from a witness who is deeply interested in concealing it. They will evade a direct answer as long as possible, and when evasion is no longer practicable, they sometimes will not answer at all. However, those who look on generally see the reason of the man's silence, and laugh 492 G. S. COMSTOCK. heartily at his embarrassment, but still tliey do not think that they are affected by the argument. The heathen cling to their religion with so strong a grasp, that nothing short of Almighty power can loosen their hold." His labours had not been long commenced when he was admon- ished of the risks incident to an ungenial climate, by a severe attack of fever and ague that suspended all active labours for two or three weeks, the recurrence of which afterwards compelled a withdrawal from this station. From this he suffered but little, and immediately set about extensive itineracies among distant villages. Aeng, a town near the frontier of the province on the great pass from Ava to Cal- cutta, the resort of traders from all parts, gave him an excellent field for occasional preaching and tract distribution, though its unhealth- iness made it impossible for Europeans to reside therein safety. He also travelled southward among communities where a white face had never been seen before. These journeys were commonly per- formed in a small native boat, which would convey him to almost any point where the people were accessible in considerable numbers. "To protect me from the heat," he says, " and to have a sleeping- place at night, a part of the boat is covered with leaves, making a cabin somewhat larger than an American oven. One serious incon- venience is, that I have to keep a fire all the while for cooking," (a necessary in a land where hotels were never known) "and very fre- quently the smoke pours in upon me most unmercifully. Some days since I went out into the ocean about ten miles to a small island, and was forcibly reminded of the * three wise men of Gotham ' who ' went to sea in a bowl.' I believe, however, my mode of travelling is safe, as the natives all go in the same way, and they are great cowards. Notwithstanding some little inconveniences which attend itinerant labour, I like it very much." No personal inconveniences, however great, affected his mind so much as the moral obstacles he had to encounter. The mental imbecility and spiritual darkness of the multitude tasked his powers and moved his sensibilities to their extremest limit, happily without quenching his resolution. "As the gospel only can elevate and save them," he observes, "all we have to do is to work so much the harder. A great deal of patient and fatiguing labour is to be performed here, and you know the Lord has given me a good constitution, very well adapted to hard work. My health is, generally, quite good, and I delight in the service which my Master has assigned me." G. s. CO :m STOCK. 493 This elastic, unyielding spirit, as we have intimated, had to strug- gle with most painful trials of the sensibility ; so painful, that if he had possessed no other resources than "a good constitution" and a cheerful temper, they had been too much for him. They can be best presented, though the limits of this sketch do not admit of extended quotation, in his own words. In answer to an inquiry as to what he suffered, his letters having been very free from allusions to such matters, he replied: "I write as I feel. Everything is infi- nitely better in reference to me than I deserve. Besides, the real trials of a missionary are not easily told. They have no reference to food, clothing, &c. True, we sometimes come to close quarters in respect to them, but this is soon over. We are greatly annoyed by having to deal with lying and cheating natives, but this is endurable. The most intense and saddest feelings are excited in view of the situation of the heathen. We sometimes follow an indi- vidual with the deepest interest for a long time, our hopes are greatly raised in reference to him, when suddenly they are dashed to the ground, and the man hates the gospel more than others. At other times we feel so weak and ignorant, seeing something important to be done, and not knowing how to do it, that we are vastly perplexed." And writing again, of the insensibility of the people, he exclaims, " 0, how I pity them ! and yet I seem to be of no use to them. I fear the truth I declare will only prove a savour of death unto death to their souls. Sometimes I feel as if I must go among them, and pull them by force 'out of the fire,' but this I cannot do. Then I tarn away, and weep and pray; thus my own soul is relieved, but tliey are still exposed to all that is fearful in the wrath of God. What shall I do?" Sad as was the prospect, he only "worked the harder," as he had said. Every Sunday morning he spent an hour and a half with his scholars, Mrs. Comstock at the same time teaching the children under her immediate charge; and they found great enjoyment in telling them, thirty in all, of the Saviour. Public worship, including a sermon, next followed ; the auditors besides the school were few. "It is the day of small things in Arracan," he remarks, "but the Lord can bless feeble instrumentality to the accomplishment of great results. After worship, Sarah and I hold a ' class meeting ' to relate to each other our exercises for the week." Then followed an inter- val of tract distribution and conversation with the people, after which an evening service was held in English, attended by about a dozen. 49-1 G. S. COMSTOCK. Daring the week his schools, and a hirge amount of evangelical labour in addition, kept body and mind in constant activity. But his constitution was not strong enough to bear such severe ten- sion, especially in the hot season. At the close of August he was l^rostrated with fever, and obliged to dismiss his schools. He had scarcely recovered when, on the twenty-eighth of November, a hur- ricane destroyed his house, together with a large number in the vil- lage, wrecking several vessels, and causing much loss of life and property. This calamity was soon repaired, the schools reassembled and the ordinary course of labour was resumed, but with a percep- tible diminution of strength. The arrival of Eev. Levi Hall and wife, in May, 1837, to reinforce the mission, gave him renewed encouragement, unhappily but for a brief period. Mrs. Hall was removed by death in July, and her husband followed her to the grave in September. By this time Mr. Comstock was himself in such a state of health that he was advised to leave the country. This he could not consent to do in his circumstances. One of his pupils had applied for baptism, and others were serious. He there- fore continued, in loneliness and much weakness, to pursue his delightful tasks till December, when he was driven to Calcutta with his family by illness. In the succeeding May he was at Maulmain, where he had the happiness of baptizing one of his domestic serv- ants on a profession of faith. Here he remained several months, engaged in literary labour. Early in 1839 we find him again at Kyouk Phyoo, but experience had shown that it was not prudent to continue there, and in March he had established himself at Ramree, on a large island of that name, off the coast, — a town of about eight thousand inhabitants, regarded by the natives as more healthy than Kyouk Phyoo. Its situation, however, shut in on all sides by high hills, makes the summer heat intense and exhausting. Mr. Comstock entered on his new sphere with hopes chastened by experience. "This is, at the best," he writes, "a climate inimical to foreigners, and many have found their graves in Arracan. We hope, to be sure, to labour many years for the salvation of the dying heathen around us, but we try constantly to feel that 'Death is narrowly watching our footsteps.' " The atten- tion given by the people to his preaching, their readiness to be instructed, and the eagerness with which tracts and books were read, gave animation to his efforts. Though few acknowledged the truth, and none seemed to be savingly benefited by it, a considera- G. S. COMSTOCK. 495 ble number were unmistakeably thoughtful, and the strength of Boodhism was clearly giving way. So profoundly ignorant that they knew, he remarks, "almost nothing," and with a moral sense "so benumbed and powerless that we almost question whether they have any," there were yet faint glimpses of dawning intelligence and moral life at which he was able to rejoice. This interest was appar- ently transient, for at a later date he writes: "Though multitudes hear the 'glad tidings,' not one has embraced the truth, and I know of none who manifest any interest in it. Did I not feel a very strong assurance that I am here in accordance with the divine will, and that the efforts we are making are on the whole the best we can make, I should of course feel entirely disheartened. As it is, I am usually enabled to go on in my work with considerable confidence and delight." Of his spiritual advantages, as compared with those enjoyed in a Christian land, he remarks, under date of September 24, 1840 : "Our situation has its advantages. We are more alone with God and our own hearts than most Christians are at home; and I can but think, that did they hear less, and meditate, pray and practise more, it would be for their souls good, and for the interest of Christ's kingdom." Yet, in his deliberate judgment, there were so many things to be set over against these advantages, that a year or two later we find him writing to a friend: "You express a very common and I think a very erroneous opinion, that the missionary has special advantages for growth in grace, and peculiar exemption from temptations to sin. In my last sermon in Rochester, from the words, 'Pray for us,' I said that missionaries are peculiarly exposed to temptations, and therefore have peculiar claims upon the prayers of Christians. This was then a matter of opinion; it is now one of experience and knowledge. Pray for us." He was now led to contemplate one of his severest trials, and because it is a subject on which harsh and inconsiderate judgments are sometimes uttered, we may fitly dwell upon it a moment. In his letter of September, 1840, just quoted, he alludes to the fact that one or two of the missionaries at Maulmain were about sending their children to America. "I asked Sarah," he adds, "if she would not send Lucy. Her eyes instantly filled with tears, and she soon concluded that Lucy could not go yet. Alas! it will be a sad hour when we part with our children to send them to America, but I see no way to avoid it. The missionary's life is one of sacrifice 496 G. S. COMSTOCK. from first to last, and could tlie enemies of missions look into our hearts at times — but I forbear. ' The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice.' Yes, I will rejoice, and make every sacrifice that my blessed Lord requires. At least, I will try to do so." About a year jjlater, in October, 1841, he writes: "Our children are making very little progress in acquiring any useful knowledge, but are learning much that we are very sorry to have them learn. Lucy and Oily must go to America next year, / think. We do not know yet, though, how they will go or where they will live when they get there. Poor things! perhaps they will feel as Lucy M • did when she said to her mamma, ' Other little girls have their mothers, and I want mine.' However, I suppose they will feel much less and for a shorter time than their parents do. Yet what is duty, must be done." The sacrifice was made the following year. "0, Saviour! I do this for Thee!" was the exclamation of the almost heart-broken mother, as her children were parted from her. On receiving a sympathetic response from friends in the United States, Mr. Corn- stock wrote: "Your remarks about the great sacrifice we were com- pelled to make, in sending our darling children from us, at their tender age, probably never to meet them again on earth, are such as one would suppose every kind and Christian heart would sug- gest. Yet we sometimes hear of very difierent and most unkind remarks being made in reference to this subject. We have, how- ever, done our duty, trusting in God, and He has not forsaken us. I hope that you will meet our dear orphans in America, but how or where I cannot guess." In the same communication (February 1, 1843,) he records his con- victions as to the good effect of his labours: "I can plainly see that the gospel is making way in Arracan. Yery many are convinced of the folly and hopelessness of idolatry, and several have openly renounced it. The ideas of an eternal God and of Jesus Christ the Saviour of sinners, are becoming common, and what we need now to turn many to the Lord, is a copious outpouring of the Holy Spirit." He felt keenly and expressed warmly the want of addi- tional missionaries. These he was not permitted to see, and Mr. Stilson, who had been associated with him at Eamree, removing to Maulmain, he was left nearly alone. His sole earthly support was shortly withdrawn. Mrs. Comstock died on the 28th of April, after a week's illness. She had been a most efficient helper in the mis- G. S. COMSTOCK. 497 sion. Besides her arduous labours as a teacher, her domestic cares and the instruction of her children, she had translated a "Scripture Catechism," and written "The Mother's Book," both highly useful Avorks; she administered medicine to the sick, and was never vvearj^ of telling to the natives of her own sex the way of salvation. All felt her loss, and the day after her death, men, women and children crowded to the house. As manj^ as two thousand came during the day, uttering expressions of the most grateful attachment to her and of sorrow for her removal. Many called to mind her instruc- tions, which affected them with new tenderness, as they remembered tliat those loving words would no more be heard from her lips. In July, her two children had followed their mother, and the widowed husband was left alone. In a review of these events, some months later, Mr. Comstock wrote: "My thoughts have been a good deal turned to Christ as a present Saviour, ever living to intercede, able to save to the uttermost. I therefore went directly to Him for support and comfort, and he granted me these blessings beyond all that I had asked or thought. 0, the abundance, and richness, and power of divine grace ! God has taught me more of his loving kindness by my afflictions, than I had ever learned or conceived amid the abundant temporal mer- cies that have heretofore crowned my path." lie was soon admon- ished by severe sickness that his own time was short. In his con- valescence he says: "Of course I must learn to suffer, as well as to labour alone. The Lord was nigh to me, and I felt calm, and quite willing that he should do with me whatever was most for his glory. I have little to live for but to do the will of God, and should he call me to a higher and purer service, I would not tarry here. It seems, however, very desirable that I should live till other missionaries come to Arracan, but the Lord knows best, and I am quite willing to leave all to him." During the winter his health seemed to rally, and increased pros- perity in his work nerved him to fresh exertion. As his sun went down, an unwonted brilliancy seemed to light up the sky. His last letter was one of his most cheerful ; several persons had pro- fessed to feel a personal interest in the truths of redemption, and he was never more ready to give his utmost endeavours to advance the blessed work. But the last enemy was soon to be met. He was providentially at Akyab when seized with mortal illness, and thus had the company of his former associate, Mr. Stilson, to soothe 32 498 G. S. COMSTOCK. his last moments. His disease was cholera. Medical aid was at once procured, and the disorder was checked ; but a low fever ensued, which proved fatal. The day before his death, he said: "I did desire to live a little longer to labour for Grod. I hoped to return to Ramree, and baptize Pah Tau and the boys, (a Burman copyist and three school-boys,) but if the Lord has no more for me to do, I can cheerfully leave the world now. I have no earthly cords to bind me here. My trust is in the Lord. He who has been with me thus far, will still be with me and take care of me. I have no fear to die, — ray faith is fixed on Jesus. I wish you to state dis- tinctly to my- friends at home, that I have never, in the least, regretted having come to this country." This was his final testi- mony. He soon became speechless, but retained his reason, and his countenance beamed with the serenity of Christian patience and undoubted expectation of the heavenly rest. His soul ascended on the 25th of April, 1844, to be reunited with his loved ones so lately departed, in that state of perfect holiness for which he had long panted. The imperfect outline we have drawn will convey some partial impression of Comstock's sterling, manly excellence, his elevated views, unselfish aims, sturdy strength, and unaffected sensibility. It will suggest something at least of his religious attainments, which were above any ordinary standard. But there are many whose personal recollections will supply traits and incidents, the memory of which must awaken a painful sense of the inadequacy of this sketch to do such a man justice. They remember his first entrance on a religious life, — how boldly he faced about in his career, how meekly he bent to the Saviour's yoke, and how light he seemed to find it. They call to mind his unceasing activity in every good work, and his prompt decision to consecrate his powers and acquisitions to the ministry of the gospel. His determination to give himself to the missionary service, expressed and carried out with that calm energy which neither concealed nor vaunted his self-sacrifice, comes freshly to their minds. They once more see his tall figure receding in the distance, and yet once more hear the heavy tidings that his course on earth and their present communion with his spirit are ended. In looking at his missionary career, we are at once struck by the cheerfulness with which he entered on it. At an early period, when the conditions of such a work were imperfectly understood, it is G. S. COMSTOCK. 499 apparent that there might be considerable play of romantic imagin- ation. But besides that he had little propensity to such airy spec- ulation, he had special opportunities to know those facts that are its sufficient cure. He looked on the enterprise, throughout, as one appealing only to his sense of gratitude and duty ; gratitude to his Kedeemer, and duty to the souls for whom He died. His motives fully appear in his reply to one who ventured the inquiry, not long after his arrival in Arracan, whether he was sure he had done right in becoming an exile from his country. "The subject of labouring among the heathen has been one of thought, of feeling and of prayer ever since I indulged hope in Christ. I tried to look at it in all its bearings. I thought of the value of the soul ; and seeing thousands and millions doomed to 'death, ignorant of the only way of escape, how could I refrain from asking, What can be done for their salva- tion? The first answer was, They must hear of Christ; for how can they believe on him of whom they have not heard? The next ques- tion was, Who shall tell them of the Saviour? They are daily passing by multitudes beyond the reach of mercy. What is done, must be done quickly. I asked myself, Why may not I go as well as another? I knew there were severe trials in the missionary's path, but should I shrink from them, when Christ had promised to be with me, and when he had endured so much for me? No, I could not, and therefore freely said. Lord here am I, send me. You see some- thing of the way the Lord led me. After leaving R., I had several opportunities of reconsidering the question of my duty to the hea- then. When called to leave my only brother, my native village, and all the friends of my childhood and youth, the question arose. Is all this sacrifice called for? I could not doubt it. Again, when standing in the sanctuary of God for the last time in a Christian land, and mingling joyfully with the saints, I thought of the land where are no sanctuaries, no saints ; but I felt not the least hesitation as to duty. When embraced by weeping parents for the last time, and accepting the farewell greetings of other friends, I was affected, but faltered not the least in my purpose. Since then, when prostrated under the influence of distressing sea-sickness; when sitting in the filthy huts of the natives; when enervated by a tropical climate; when alone in my little bamboo cottage, and thinking of the heathen who refused proffered mercy, and said that the blessed Jesus was an impostor, I have had opportunities to reconsider my decision, but I have never regretted it." Very rarely did he suffer himself to 500 G. S. COM STOCK. allude in this manner to liis self-denials. Except when drawn out by questions that seemed to require an answer, he bound himself to silence in respect to them all, apparently regarding them as but "light affliction, which is but for a moment." In the same spirit he toiled from year to year, without any token of good, his energy rising, as the obstacles to success were more painfully visible. At first view, it would seem that a more barren result of ten years' incessant labour could scarcely be conceived. At the time of his death, the church at Eamree consisted of nine mem- bers. Six or eight others were candidates for baptism. Thousands had heard the gospel, presented with the utmost skill and enforced by the most fervid and tearful eloquence. Where were they? But their insensibility, greatly as it moved his compassion, could not shake his purpose, for it was founded on a spirit of obedience to Christ, and drew from His promises unfailing strength. So he went on, scattering the good seed, and leaving its increase to appear at the bidding of Him who alone can give it, and at the time when his wisdom and grace should appoint. Meanwhile, he so laboured that he might speak to the future as well as the present. To this end, he studied very thoroughly the character of the people to whom he was sent — their history, their modes of thought and of faith. The results of his investigations were embodied, in part, in an elaborate paper, entitled "Notes on Arakan," published shortly after his de- cease in the Journal of the American Oriental Society. His tracts are still widely circulated, and will long be regarded as effective instruments to diffuse the knowledge of Christ throughout Burmah. His faith has been amply confirmed. The words he spoke did not fall fruitlessly on the air. The seed sown in tears is now reaped in joy. In every part of the field he traversed, succeeding mission- aries have seen first the blade, then the ear. He expressed the con- fidence that Boodhism was fatally wounded in Arracan. It is now testified that the great body of the people are ripe for its rejection. He seemed to fear at times that his preaching was of no effect in drawing men to the cross, but they are now coming to bow before the crucified One, and they confess that it was " Teacher Comstock " whose voice first woke their slumbering souls to see somethino- of the excellency of Christ. Nor these alone. Karens, who never saw him, have been overcome by the truth as he imprinted it on the mute page to instruct the eyes of the heathen when his own should have been closed in death. This pleasing testimony has been lately G. S. COMSTOCK. 501 communicated to the public by Eev. Mr, Stevens of the MaiJmain Mission.* A Burman, afterwards a Boodhist priest, was reading aloud "The Way to Heaven," one of Comstock's tracts. A Karen chanced to hear him, and begged that he would come to his village and read those words to his neighbours. He did so, and the people flocked together to listen. They wept as they heard of the Saviour's love. They urged him to repeat his visit, and though himself uninter- ested in the theme, this idolatrous Burman went from village to village reading the tract to deeply affected hearers, who in return loaded him with gifts. Thus, being dead, the devoted missionary still speaketh, and in the presence of the angels doubtless rejoices over repentant sinners whom he knew not on earth, but who will be his crown in the day when God shall make up His jewels. • See Missionary Magazine for January, 1852. JAMES RICHARDS. James Eichards* was born at Abington, Mass., February 23d, 1784. His parents removed to Plainfield, in the same state, while he was very young, and there he received his early education. He was brought up in the fear of God, and at the age of thirteen, during a season of special religious interest, was led to a cordial subjection to the claims, and the enjoyment of the hopes, of the gospel. His admission to the church, however, did not take place till nearly six years from that time. He ardently desired to prepare for the Chris- tian ministry, but the circumstances of the family did not permit him to be released from labour till nearly twenty years of age. He then commenced his preparatory studies, and at the age of twenty- two entered Williams College. His slender means required him to submit to many privations, which he bore with manly and Christian fortitude, sustained by his ardent desire to be useful in the church and in the world. His standing as a scholar was good, particularly in the mathematics, but his highest honour as a member of college was the steady consistency with which he discharged the duties of his religious profession, and studied to promote the spiritual inter- ests of his fellow-students. Among his most intimate associates at this period was Samuel J. Mills. To him he first disclosed his desire to engage in a mission to the heathen. He was one of those who held that memorable confer- ence in the meadow, at which Mills proposed the enterprise which his heart had long cherished, and found, with delightful surprise, that his auditors were already in sympathy with him. At what time the missionary spirit was kindled in the mind of Eichards, or * It is proper to state that arrangements were made for a fuller sketch of Mr. Richards, and one more worthy of his character. But these having foiled, at a period ti)o late to secure such an article as was desired, the editor yet felt that the work would be incomplete without something more than a passing notice of such a man, and this brief tribute to his memory was therefore compiled, chiefly from the Mis- sionary Herald. 50-i JAMES RICHARDS. by what circunistances it first gained a lodgment there, cannot Ijc determined, but thenceforth he was a party lo those secret consulta- tions, prayers and efforts that called into being the first general missionary society in this country. In 1809 he took his bachelor's degree in the arts, and immediately entered the Theological Semi- nary at Andover. Here he was active in diffusing a missionary spirit among his associates, and when it was decided to memorialize the General Association on the subject, his name was subscribed to the paper presented to that body, in which the youthful company gave public expression to their long-cherished wishes. But through fear lest so many applicants might be unfavourably received, he withdrew his name, and deferred to others, whose seniority in the seminary seemed to give them precedence. He yielded to none, however, in the strength of his resolution; for he had fully deter- mined, should no other avenue to the heathen world present itself, to work his passage to some pagan land, and there support himself hj his own toil. "Let me never," was his language, "consider any- thing too great to suffer, or anything too dear to part with, when the glory of God and the salvation of men require it." In September, 1812, he finished his theological studies, and v/a.s licensed to preach. Having been accepted by the Conniiittee of the American Board as a candidate for missionary service, he spent nearly two years in Philadelphia, studying medicine, then considered an essential part of missionary education. There he frequently preached to destitute congregations, and for a time was employed as a missionary in the suburbs of the cit}^ In 181-1, war with Great Britain making it impossible for the Board to send him forth, he was engaged in preaching to a congregation that greatly desired him to remain as their pastor, but his heart was fixed on other objects, and he declined their call. He w^as ordained on the 21st of June, 1815, and on the 23d of October following, in company with eight brethren and sisters, appointed to the same field, embarked for Ceylon. When asked how he could refrain from weeping at his separation from friends and country, he replied, "Why should I have wept? I had been waiting with anxiety almost eight years for an opportunity to go and preach Christ among the heathen. I had often wept at the long delay. But the day on which I bade farewell to my native land was the happiest day of my life." A favourable passage of five months brought them to Columbo. It is worthy of note that two of the crew were hopefully converted during the voyage. JAMES RICHARDS. 505 The mission to Ceylon was commenced in consequence of the recommendation of Mr. Newell, who found a refuge here for a tim^e when the British authorities were hunting him and his colleagues from the contiuent of India. Having a population of nearly a mil- lion, it is of itself a missionary field of no small importance, but the fact that the Tamil people in the Jaffna district, about one hundred and fifty thousand in number, are identical in race, language and religion with a large population in the adjacent parts of the conti- nent, gave it a' still higher claim to the attention of the Board. It was to this district that the mission, though vested with some discre- tionary powers in selecting their field, were particularly directed. A station there, it was believed and has since been -proved, offered a starting point of operations among all the Tamil people of India whenever the government should become favourable to an exten- sion of their efforts in continental India. The Portuguese had formerly introduced Romanism into Ceylon, and the Dutch, who succeeded them in the possession of the island, had in like manner established a nominal Protestantism. It was easy enough, by the free exertion of government patronage, to make the people profess almost any desired religion, and a sort of Christians became very plentiful for a time, though the propagandists had no great reason to be proud of their converts. When the island came under the English dominion, religious freedom was proclaimed. Forthwith heathen temples, which had been pulled down by the Portuguese and Dutch authorities, were rebuilt, idols were set up, and the peo- ple substituted for their Ave Mary's or the forms of the Helvetic Confession, the orgies of Hindooism or the incantations of Bood- hism. A few thousand Roman Catholics remained to attest the work of the sixteenth century under the apostleship of Xavier. The government received the missionaries favourably, and assigned them stations in Jaffna, at Tillipally and Batticotta. Mr. Richards, who was assigned to Batticotta, commenced his studies at Jaffnapa- tam, where a temporary residence was obtained till the necessary buildings should be in readiness. But his mission was a troubled one, and his purpose of preaching to the heathen failed of its execu- tion in a great measure. He was incapacitated from study by an inflammation of the eyes, and the means he used for their recovery proved fatal to his general constitution. Not considering the debili- tating effect of a tropical climate, he reduced his system so low as to impair his strength jDcrmanently, and is sujDposed to have thus 506 JAMES RICHARDS. laid the foundation of the pulmonary disease wliich subsequently ended his life. His studies were much interrupted, but he made himself useful to the mission in various ways, especially by his medical knowledge. He also preached to the natives occasionally through an interpreter. These efforts were suspended in the autumn of 1817, by the weakness of his lungs and general debility that threatened his early removal from earth. A visit to Columbo, and a short residence there, .somewhat relieved him. One of his col- leagues, Mr. Warren, being also in impaired health, the two sailed in April, 1818, for the Cape of Good Hope. Mr. Warren did not long survive the voyage. He had been associated with Richards, ]\Iills and Hall in college, had united with them in consecration to the work of missions, had taken a dismis- sion to Middlebury College, for the purpose of kindling a like flame of Christian benevolence in that institution, and the two had enjoj'ed for a season the happiness of labouring together in the wastes of heathenism. It seemed that they were not to be long sun- dered from each other. For although during the first three mouths that Mr. Richards remained at the Cape his symptoms improved, raising some hopes of final recovery, the succeeding month saw him reduced so low by hemorrhage, that he entirely lost his voice. In the latter part of November he embarked for Madras, and thence proceeded to Columbo, and by water to Jaflfnapatam. His journey by land to Batticotta, though a distance of only seven miles, was performed with difficulty, and for a time he was regarded by his brethren and by himself as near death. But in August, 1819, he began to regain strength, and was able to visit the mission schools, to inspect the studies of the boys, and communicate religious instruc- tion by means of an interpreter. This improvement was so rapid that in April, 1820, he had recovered his voice. Frequent exercise on horseback, with more nourishing diet, confirmed the healthful tendency that had been developed, and for a year he made himself highly useful to the mission by his counsels and active labours. His diligence and fer- vour, indeed, sometimes exceeded his strength. His efforts were checked in the following May by their reaction upon his weakness, increased by the fatigues of medical attendance, which devolved much on him. But though his active exertions in the cause of Christ were plainly drawing to a close, he had the satisfaction of seeing that the work was advancing. A considerable degree of sen* JAMES EICHAKDS. 507 sibilitj to the claims of religion was manifested, and several hopeful converts were added to the church; among them a man in Mr. Rich- ards' service, and six pupils in the girls' boarding-school. The whole number of native converts in church fellowship at the close of the year 1821, was fifteen, and others were inquiring, — a small number^ it must be confessed, but considered with reference to the character of the Hindoo mind, and the strength of those influences that retard and almost forbid the progress of Christianity among such a people, it was a result full of hope. Mr. Richards continued to decline till the twenty-ninth of June, 1822, when he was visited with acute sufferings that he endured till the end, not only with patience, but with expressions of gratitude. He said that the long languor of his slow decay had affected his mind with a degree of depression and imbecility. His severe bodily sufferings roused him to a higher degree of mental activity. He gained clearer, higher and more consoling views of the divine char- acter, with an increase of faith and more earnest desires for the supreme glory of God. Within a day or two of his death, more constant and more acute pain cut the last remaining ties which bound him to earth, and he was greatly desirous to be gone. On the morn- ing of the third of August Dr. Scudder said to him, "Well, Brother Richards, it is almost over." "Yes, Brother Scudder," he answered, with a look of joyful expectation, "I think so, — I hope so. 0 Lord Jesus, come quickly !" To subsequent intimation that he might sur- vive a day or two longer, he replied, with a look of disappointment, "No — I am just going." He revived somewhat, and was able to speak more distinctly, but was manifestly near his end. Calling for his only son James, he took him by the hand, and said: "My son, your papa is dying. He will very soon be dead. Thou, my son, remember three things: Be a good boy; obey your mamma; and love Jesus Christ. Now remember these my son." Soon after, he looked around, saying, "Tell Brother Scudder — going" — and was speechless. In a few moments he fell asleep. Although he had been disabled from much active evangelical labour, Mr. Richards was valued and esteemed by his brethren, who regarded his loss as a heavy one. As a companion and a counsellor, his affectionate interest in all that concerned his associates, whether personally or officially, his eminently peaceable spirit, and his practi- cal wisdom, which was strengthened by continual communion with Him who giveth to all men liberally, according to the measure of 508 JAMES RICHAEDS. tlieir faith, made his presence in the mission a benefit much in .f 'f 'i^ :^. i^. ^^ U ^ . f .t rt ;f ,t ^' if ;f,% ';4 3' -f ■ ^^ '*^ M^ ^^ ^^ [ ;^ ^ >' ,t t^' /^^ If- :'t ^- ft- 5 ^ n' n^ '4' m'm:M f . ^- ^f ..t .:l^ .^^ * 1 1 .:t- ,*^^ /^ j^. ;^. j^. j^, :^, 54. - , '^^, f' J' ^f S n ^- H^ ^' /f ' .4 ?t ^' ,« '^^ ^' y M ii ^. ^ ...f ^ .f ^^ ;f .t .f * :4. ,f ■€■ f 4 ^ ^- y^ y If. p - u '- •■' .. ■ rH ,^',;f ;^';f ^"^-M w-^^a--' " ,.:t :•?',* ••?' ,,f- ''^ ,f' '^ ^] . t ff , t .f > -t ■:f :^' '^' ,1^ ■ ^ :^ n- ^^ -f, -^^ ; " ^:'f ;t .f ^^ it' .1' It ,t If' If^ : ■ ,: : . % % 4 ^4. a. '-i. ^ ■i ''. 'L ••' '^-^ i^ '■'■ ir $^' if A .^"■^.' 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