s« 
 
 m 
 
 W 
 
 m 
 
 N 
 
 N 
 
 N 
 
 N 
 
 N 
 
 N 
 
 14 
 
 M 
 
 N 
 
 I 
 
 § 
 
 gK 
 
 m 
 
 1 
 
 li 
 
 S'i 
 
 N 
 
 14 
 
 M 
 
 m 
 
 S54 
 
 14 
 
 II 
 
 M 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 / aS 
 
 m 
 
 VaS 
 
 $& 
 
 M 
 
 || 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 gg 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SERIES No. 7. 
 
 January, 1841. 
 
 July, 1893. 
 
 EMMA OSBORNE AMBROS 
 
 if 
 
 OF THE WEST. 
 
 “ They have but left our weary ways 
 To live in memory here, in heaven by love and praise. 
 
 * CHICAGO: 
 
 OAMES GUILBERT, PRINTER. 
 
 1894. 
 
 JSg 
 
 m 
 
 M 
 
 M 
 
 04 
 
 n 
 
 I# 
 
 sP 
 
 & 
 
 §§ 
 
 i 
 
 # 
 
 <L 
 
 04 
 
 N 
 
 04 
 
 N 
 
 <4 
 
 m 
 
 h> 
 
 y 
 
 m 
 
 WOMANS BAPTIST FOREIGN MISSIONARY SOCIETY » 
 
 m 
 
 I 
 
 SK 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 Hi 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 VAX 
 
 § 
 
 $>4 
 
 %>1 
 
 p 
 
 || 
 
 II 
 
 M 
 
 II 
 
 M 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 ik 
 
 m 
 

 
BIOGRAPHICAL SERIES No. 7. 
 
 January, 1841. 
 
 July, 1893. 
 
 
 13 "® 
 
 SBORNE AMBR 
 
 
 JJ, 
 
 woman’s baptist foreign missionary society 
 
 OF THE WEST. 
 
 “ They have but left our weary ways 
 To live in memory here, in heaven by love and praise. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 
 JAMES GUILBERT, PRINTER. 
 
EMMA 0. AMBROSE 
 
 i. 
 
 All hearts grew warmer in the presence 
 Of one who, seeking not her own, 
 
 Gave freely for the love of giving, 
 
 Nor reaped for self the harvest sown. 
 
 Thy greeting smile was pledge and prelude 
 Of generous deeds and kindly words. 
 
 In thy large heart were fair guest chambers 
 Open to sunrise and the. birds. 
 
 The task was thine to mould and fashion 
 Life’s plastic newness into grace, 
 
 To make the boyish heart heroic . 
 
 And light with thought the maiden’s face. 
 
 Thine be the quiet habitations, 
 
 Tliine the green pastures, blossom sown, 
 
 And smiles of saintly recognition 
 As sweet and tender as thy own. 
 
 Thou comest not from the hush and shadow 
 To meet us, but to thee we come; 
 
 With thee we never can be strangers, 
 
 And where thou art would’st still be home. 
 
 In former days, the lives of heroic achievement have been 
 largely those of men, but in this day the call comes to woman 
 to turn her back on a life of aimlessness and indefinite wait¬ 
 ing, and she listens and takes up a work of definite aim and 
 purpose. This is one of the finest phases of the mighty 
 many-sided movement of our age. There can be no doubt 
 that these noble lives will have increasing recognition and 
 honor; and who are more worthy of this honor and recogni- 
 
4 
 
 tion than the women who are lifting the heathen world out 
 of the depths, by lifting the world’s girlhood and womanhood, 
 its wifehood and motherhood, and widowhood, up to the 
 realization of God’s ideal woman, clothed with the sunlight 
 of sanctity, pure with utmost approach to purity, sweet with 
 unselfish lives, and strong for the march of onward progress. 
 
 She was a sweet-faced, low-voiced woman, whose gentle 
 manner drew one to her at once, and whose life seemed devo¬ 
 ted to helping any and every one with whom she came in 
 contact. 
 
 This is the portrait drawn of Emma Osborne Ambrose, at 
 the time when her strong desire for active service in lands 
 beyond the sea was about to know its fulfillment. Erom the 
 loving tribute of her brother, James Clement Ambrose, we 
 learn something of the lovely obedient childhood of this life 
 which began in Sharon, Michigan, January 2, 1841. He 
 says, “Emma being only three years my junior, her infant 
 doings did not impress me, till in her second year, when our 
 father gave up pioneer merchandise in Michigan, and with 
 wife and three children journeyed by wagon train to Illinois 
 where six years were spent. Then, when she was only seven 
 years old, our father’s loss of health led the family back to 
 Sharon, and to the farm which had been retained, and there 
 in the midst of the toils and pleasures of farm and country 
 life, Emma passed her youth and early school days. Our 
 parents were devoted Baptists, as well as Christians. The 
 nearest Baptist service being at Manchester, four miles 
 away, the entire family regularly made Sabbath pilgrimage 
 thither. It was there under the warm preaching of Elder 
 Knapp that my sister, at the tender age of nine, made clear 
 
5 
 
 confession of her child faith in Christ, and was baptised in 
 the river Raisan. A most attentive daughter, watchful to 
 save tired parents a step, or a care, nursing them in sickness, 
 cheering them in toil, ever a helpful and forgiving sister, 
 kind to all, and beloved by all about her. I love her as a 
 model, not less than as a sister.” 
 
 From the country school house on the hill, she went to the 
 State Normal School at Ypsilanti, where she graduated in 
 March, 1863—a good student. She taught a year, and then 
 returned to her home, the abiding aid and joy of the narrowed 
 circle, both brothers having married and gone. The fathers 
 death occurred in 1868, and the following winter, selling the 
 farm, Emma and her mother moved to Omaha, the home of 
 both her brothers. She learned the art of book-binding, and 
 has found the knowledge very helpful in her mission work in 
 Burma. After a few years the mother became a confirmed 
 invalid, requiring and receiving the devoted care of her 
 daughter for two years. 
 
 In those sad days they considered together mission work, 
 as that to which the daughter would turn when the mother 
 would no longer need her tender watchful care. When the 
 end came, Emma found peace and satisfaction in giving her¬ 
 self unreservedly to her chosen work. 
 
II. 
 
 “ I am glad a task to me is given 
 To labor at day by day; 
 
 For it brings me health and strength and hope, 
 
 And I cheerfully learn to say, 
 
 Head, you may think; Heart, you may feel: 
 
 But, Hand, you shall work alway. 
 
 Miss Ambrose offered herself to the Woman’s Baptist For¬ 
 eign Missionary Society of the West, and was appointed July 
 9, 1878, to work at Toungoo, Burma, among the Bghai 
 Karens. She was Nebraska’s first single lady missionary. 
 She sailed October 5 from New York and reached Burma on 
 her birthday, January 2, 1879. 
 
 One who loved her says, “She seemed frail for the voyage, 
 and yet made it without an hour of sickness, and grew 
 stronger on the way. She seemed equally frail for the work 
 that lay before her—yet in a little while she wrote of long 
 pony rides through the jungles, climbing mountain steeps, 
 walking along ledges so narrow as to make riding dangerous, 
 and camping by night in tropic forests that echoed the cry 
 of wild beasts, and shed giant spiders around the tents, yet 
 she has never expressed fear, and has never been harmed.” 
 
 She became at once the companion and assistant of Miss 
 Eastman, who had been already at Toungoo five years, and 
 thev soon loved each other as sisters. In her first letters 
 
 %j 
 
 home, she says, “My heart turns in gratitude to the kind 
 Father who has led me here, for in looking over the past, as 
 well as the present, I find many causes for assurance that His 
 
 6 
 
7 
 
 hand has been gently guiding me all the way. I am very 
 happy here and take great pleasure in loving and being loved 
 by the native children." Thus, busy with her Karen teacher, 
 finding nothing but pleasure in the study of the language, 
 she began her labors with the English classes, in reading, 
 spelling and writing. As her knowledge of the language 
 increased, she took charge of a class of fourteen large boys 
 and girls in Karen, and while feeling her incompetency to 
 converse with them, still felt that the exercise was a benefit 
 to her. The housekeeping was in her charge, and having a 
 drunken cook the work was doubly difficult. “You may 
 wonder," she says, “why we do not change, but all, unless 
 Christians, are like this one." We can readily understand 
 that she had no leisure moments for home sickness, when 
 there were sixty-six scholars in school, and forty preachers 
 and teachers in the jungle, constantly seeking for advice, 
 money and medicines, in the absence of the missionary in 
 charge. The privilege of going among the mountain people, 
 and gaining an insight into their daily life, gave her much 
 pleasure, and the fatigue of reaching them was always for¬ 
 gotten in the hearty welcome she received. In some of the 
 villages, not a girl was found, large or small, who could read. 
 As she marked the difference in the countenances of those 
 who had been taught and those who had not, she was fully 
 convinced that school work was well worth the doing. 
 
 On Mr. Bunker’s return from America, he brought a print¬ 
 ing press on which the Karen hymn-book was printed ; the 
 folding, stitching, and some of the binding was done by a 
 class of girls and boys, under Miss Ambrose’s tuition and 
 supervision. She gave from one to two hours daily to the 
 printing department, and in pressure of work even more. 
 
8 
 
 Through all these years there was much to encourage her 
 in her school work, for the scholars, as a rule, were obedient 
 and disposed to do their best. 
 
 A little mission sprang up among the pupils. It was pro¬ 
 posed by one of the oldest and best girls that every week, 
 each one should lay aside one pice (the fraction of a cent) or 
 more for Christ. The proposition was heartily received, and 
 every Wednesday evening, after meeting, the gifts were laid 
 upon the table by the willing givers, amounting from eight 
 annas to a rupee. God’s blessing must surely rest upon such 
 mites coming from His little ones. Miss Ambrose says, “The 
 Karens are doing nobly in self-support; when one looks at 
 the poverty with which they are surrounded on the moun¬ 
 tains. They wage a hand to hand conflict with the evil One, 
 but God is helping them. We go out every evening, when 
 the people are gathered in little groups around their camp 
 fires, the women spinning or winding cotton, the men smok¬ 
 ing and talking ; we each take an interpreter and go in dif¬ 
 ferent directions ; much personal work is done and souls are 
 won to Christ.” 
 
 Two years went on; labors and cares multiplied, and 
 though the willing spirit did not tire or faint, bodily strength 
 failed, and it became evident that a change was necessary. 
 After vainly struggling against weariness and disease, she 
 reluctantly turned her face toward her native land in Novem¬ 
 ber 1886. She attended the 16th and 17th annual meetings 
 of the Society, visited many churches in behalf of the work 
 abroad, and awakened a deeper interest in the service to 
 which she had consecrated her life. With restored health 
 she returned to the people of her choice in the fall of 1889. 
 
III. 
 
 “If God gives me work to do, I will thank Him that He has given 
 me a strong arm ; and if He gives me danger to brave, I will bless Him 
 that He has not made me without courage ; but I will go down on my 
 knees and beseech Him humbly to make me fit for my task.” 
 
 Dr. Bunker, who was associated with Miss Ambrose in both 
 school and jungle work for nearly thirteen years, and came 
 to know her intimately, gives strong and valuable testimony 
 in respect to her work and life. He says, “She had peculiar 
 talent fonher work, and with a spirit of Christ-like love for 
 even the most unlovely. 
 
 “In attempting to give some idea of her work it will be 
 necessary to glance at the character of the field of her labors, 
 and the people among whom she wrought. The Toungoo 
 mission field among the Karen is quite unlike any other in 
 Burma. The head station is in Toungoo City, on the west 
 bank of the Sittang river. Away to the west, about twenty 
 miles distant, rises the first range of the Toungoo mountains. 
 These mountain ranges run north and south, and among 
 them, in an area larger than the State of Connecticut, are 
 scattered the seventy-seven churches in the Bghai Karen 
 Mission. To reach these mountains, a journey across a hot 
 plain must be made ; then commences about the hardest 
 travel that can be found in any mission field in the world. 
 The mountain slopes are precipitous and are covered with a 
 heavy forest growth. When the narrow paths are shut in by 
 this dense growth, and as often happens, the sun beats down 
 
 9 
 
10 
 
 on the weary traveller, one can form some idea of the intense 
 fatigue of such travel. Seldom does one find a stretch of 
 even comparatively level road on which to rest. It is either 
 up or down, with deep ravines, through which dash mountain 
 streams, where are dangerous fords, or still more dangerous 
 bridges. The villages are from two to six hours travel, or 
 even more, distant from each other. 
 
 “The people among whom she wrought are quite unlike the 
 orderly and quiet kind one meets with in America. In their 
 wild state they are most degraded and ignorant. The native 
 Christians have made remarkable progress, yet they have 
 many ways most repulsive to a refined and cultivated woman. 
 On the other hand, they are most anxious to learn, and are 
 very grateful for all the help they receive. They are indeed 
 children, and require great patience in teaching them—they 
 learn, however, to love deeply and truly those whom they 
 have come to trust. Their continual gazing, for they are 
 very curious, is a great strain on the nerves, yet their child¬ 
 like gratitude softens not a little the difficulties of the work 
 among them. 
 
 “This is the field and these are the people among whom 
 Miss Ambrose spent the decade of her missionary life. 
 
 “In many ways the school differs from the jungle work, the 
 former occupying eight or nine months of the year, and the 
 latter the remainder. Every church is supposed to sustain a 
 village school, and these schools send their best pupils to the 
 training school at the home station during the rains, when it 
 is impossible for the missionaries to engage in jungle work. 
 As the rainy season is by far the most trying of the whole 
 year, the danger to life and health are greatest in that season. 
 
11 
 
 This training school receives its scores of boys and girls from 
 the village school in May. They come down untrained and 
 uncouth, with many of their heathenish habits still clinging 
 to them. The girls must be taught everything that those 
 who are to be the future teachers, and pastor’s wives, ought 
 to know. Their old habits of untlirift, dirt and dullness 
 must be unlearned. This is a herculanean task. A heathen 
 is almost everything that is bad, and even when they become 
 Christians, old habits are not easily subdued. The grace, 
 patience and Christian-like love required to deal with three¬ 
 score such girls cannot be readily realized, save by a long 
 experience. Miss Ambrose was peculiarly fitted for this work; 
 she had a love for this little flock, that knew no change. 
 She had great tact in winning and keeping the love of her 
 girls, a most necessary qualification where sharp discipline is 
 often imperative. 
 
 “Her executive ability we have seldom seen excelled; equal¬ 
 led only by the orderly and systematic arrangement of her 
 work. For years she had charge of the industrial classes 
 among the girls, and of the book department of the mission. 
 The systematic manner in which she conducted this school was 
 a constant source of satisfaction to her associates. The annual 
 display of work made by her girls, and offered for sale among 
 their parents, was very attractive, and the proceeds of these 
 sales helped the school not a little. Her jungle work, not 
 one whit less than her school work, was characterized by great 
 usefulness. She brought all her sanctified gifts to that work 
 also, most heartily as unto Christ. This work has peculiar 
 trials, for the difficulties of travel, already mentioned, the 
 work begins when one is least prepared for it, because of the 
 weariness from the school work just completed. 
 
12 
 
 “At every village, Miss Ambrose would be surrounded by 
 women and children, often dirty, repulsive, full of sickness 
 and sores in many instances, and always with needs of every 
 kind appealing for help. One of the saddest sights she met 
 was the constant presence of little children in a most pitiable 
 condition for want of motherly care; naked and cold, soiled 
 and unsightly, and covered with sores; neglected, hungry 
 and almost unloved : —certainly without any intelligent mo¬ 
 ther-love. 
 
 “Her nights would be spent within hearing of the pitiful 
 wailings of these innocents. It requires great fortitude and 
 patience to be able to behold such sights, and listen to such 
 sounds, week after week and not give way to despair. Only 
 the grace of God can uphold one in these conditions. 
 
 “Again, the almost hopeless helplessness of the people, was 
 extremely discouraging. If one could take one church and 
 teach and help the people till they could intelligently help 
 themselves, the work would seem less hopeless, but to be able 
 to spend at best only a few hours at each village, and then, 
 when weary of travel, the task of relief is a disheartening 
 one. 
 
 “In jungle work she also showed qualities not always found 
 in her sisters, viz: special physical and moral courage. She 
 braved dangers which her associates often thought hazardous. 
 Then tests of nerve-force often happened in our travels through 
 the jungles. As an instance, we were going to an Association, 
 three days travel distant from the city. A severe storm of 
 wind and rain followed us for two days, and the mountain 
 slopes were made very dangerous for pony traveling. Often¬ 
 times her horse retained his footing with great difficulty, but 
 
13 
 
 she clung bravely to him. Suddenly the accident we feared, 
 happened. In a steep place, the pony lost his footing, and 
 the rider was thrown to the ground, the pony slipping and 
 rolling down the mountain side. 
 
 “We expected she had suffered serious injury, but no, she 
 sprang up, laughing, though covered from head to foot with 
 yellow mud, into which she had fallen. She had succeeded 
 in throwing herself on the upper side, so had escaped harm. 
 Her good nature and patience never seemed to desert her 
 under these hardships and dangers, but rather rose with the 
 difficulties she met. 
 
 “Another instance of her courage and devotion was shown 
 in her work in Yah-Do. This village is almost eighty miles 
 north-east from Toungoo city. On account of its situation 
 it is of the utmost importance to our work. During the late 
 war, in the taking of Upper Burma, this place was especially 
 exposed to danger. The disciples were disheartened ; there 
 was danger of losing the place. 
 
 “Miss Ambrose had spent the previous year there, alone, 
 keeping up the school, and in the year in question, so great 
 was the need, that she could not rest, unless at her post in 
 Yah-Do, and, so, much against the wishes of her associates, 
 she undertook to live again among the people, though the 
 village was often fired upon in the night. She remained 
 faithfully at her post, until called away by the government 
 officers, lest harm should come to her, and the Government 
 be blamed. 
 
 “Deep consecration and trust in her Lord, only, could have 
 have enabled her, naturally so delicate and shrinking, to have 
 endured such responsibilities and braved such dangers.” 
 
14 
 
 We are so fortunate as to have from Miss Ambrose* own 
 hand, pictures and incidents of jungle life during Jan. and 
 Feb. 1893 : “Would that I could give you a full account of 
 
 our two Associations, the house to house visiting of twenty- 
 five villages, women’s meetings and children’s meetings, with 
 all their promise of good. The Southern Association opened 
 January 25, the Northern, Feb. 8, and both were distant 
 from the city two days journey. On drawing near the camp¬ 
 ing ground, it was pleasant to see a ‘Welcome* in Karen and 
 English, suspended over our pathway. A large bamboo tab¬ 
 ernacle had been erected, surrounded by little bamboo shel¬ 
 ters, here and there, to accommodate those in attendance, 
 also a larger one for the tents of the missionaries, and bamboo 
 tables arranged for holding books and medicines for the 
 teachers to take with them on returning home. Neither of 
 the Associations had its usual attendance, owing to the scar¬ 
 city of food on the mountains. The church letter from 
 nearly every village uttered the same cry—‘no paddy,*—yet 
 their trust in God failed not. 
 
 “The lack of food must of necessity hurt the school work, 
 as the people cannot supply the teachers rice ; and again, 
 the children are wanted to dig wild roots and pick leaves to 
 satisfy hunger. The schools that had gathered here seemed 
 to pleasantly vie with each other in singing select pieces. In 
 the Northern Association this singing was unusually fine, so 
 good that it stirred the whole assembly. It was suggested 
 that one evening be spent musically, but the committee deci¬ 
 ded the time could not be given, the audience playfully 
 insisted that the committee (thirteen staid elderly men) favor 
 it with a song. These worthies rose, and in their quaint way, 
 sang, ‘All hail the power of Jesus* name.* 
 
15 
 
 “There was a deep missionary spirit throughout the meet¬ 
 ings. One of the pioneer teachers spoke with beaming face, 
 of how God had led his people from the beginning of mission 
 work in Toungoo till the present. Again and again teachers 
 were obliged to flee from their posts, but by persistently 
 returning, what are now our most active Christian villages 
 were won from heathenism to Christ. So there is cause for 
 hope and patient endurance with the many heathen villages 
 in which faithful teachers are now toiling. 
 
 “The last Association over. Miss Anderson and I journeyed 
 to other churches, spending one night at each village. At 
 the close of the usual evening service, it was our custom to 
 urge all to read the Bible daily, not simply on Sunday, as 
 many have been doing ; to commune often with God; to give 
 up the filthy habit of betel-nut chewing, for Christ's sake ; 
 to permit their children, especially the girls, to attend school; 
 and lastly, urging the men to be ready to bear the heavy bur¬ 
 dens of life themselves, that the mothers, wives and daugh¬ 
 ters may have time to do the work properly belonging to 
 them. Our words always received the closest attention. 
 One man was overheard saying to his companions, ‘ She talks 
 to us like a mother.' Such advice is sadly needed. Climb¬ 
 ing a bamboo ladder of eight feet to a rickety, open veranda, 
 
 I asked, ‘Is any one within?' ‘Is,' was the reply, and I 
 pushed open the door to find a large, strong man with a baby 
 in his arms. He sat on the floor with his feet in the ashes ; 
 unwashed cooking chatties were scattered about, and general 
 disorder prevailed. I sat down by him, and after admiring 
 the bright-eyed child, that would have been pretty, had it 
 been clean, talked with him of his soul. Soon his wife came 
 
16 
 
 toiling up the ladder, with fully an eighth of a cord of wood 
 .in a heavy basket on her back, suspended by a strap across 
 her head. Throwing down her load, she came in dripping 
 with perspiration, and at once the child was put in her arms. 
 On another occasion, a robust brawny man was found in the 
 house tending an infant two days old, while the wife and 
 mother was below pounding out the rice— very, very hard 
 work. Such are some of the wrongs of our sisters, even 
 among the churches, which it is our privilege by patient 
 teaching to try to correct. 
 
 “In a village where there were only a few Christians, but 
 twenty-two heathen fami]ies given over to drink, withholding 
 their children from school, there was heavy work to be done. 
 Miss Anderson, accompanied by the village teacher, visited 
 every house, while I ‘ stayed by the stuff/ and plead with 
 those who came to our tent to turn to Jesus and give up their 
 evil ways. As a result, we were rewarded by the pledge that 
 nearly all of the children would be sent to school. There is 
 reason to hope that a reform has been made in more than one 
 line. Here we were cheered by meeting one of our old school 
 girls, whose house was a model of neatness. The next day 
 we met two of our former school hoys, whose consecration to 
 the Lord was beautiful to behold. 
 
 “Not only in the villages, but often by the wayside did we 
 meet with blessings and opportunities for doing good. One 
 morning, while halting for breakfast, a man passing stopped 
 to speak with our helpers. Learning that he was Karen, we 
 addressed him and found that he was a Christian and that 
 his was one of the two Christian families left in a certain 
 village reported at the Association. We urged him not to be 
 
17 
 
 discouraged, and reminded him if they would daily read 
 God’s Word, and be much in prayer, they would not fail, but 
 would instead be a light to their heathen neighbors. He 
 said, ‘None but my two boys can read, and I will keep one at 
 home to read the Bible for us, the other I will send to the 
 city to school next year/ 
 
 “Near the end of our "journey, we were weary one day with 
 the steep mountain-climbing, and also from the loss of sleep, 
 the night before, on account of a tiger scare. We stopped 
 beside a beautiful stream, the waters just above us came 
 tumbling down over large rocks in one mad frolic, then scam¬ 
 pered olf in by paths as if playing ‘ hide and seek/ then all 
 were reunited in solid ranks as the stream flowed swiftly 
 onward. 
 
 “Here, while resting, two boys who had come another route 
 from the city, overtook us. They brought a fresh supply of 
 food, but best of all the home mail of two weeks. Hungry 
 for both, especially the letters, they were indeed welcome, 
 and we were soon refreshed in body and spirit. We reached 
 the city again Feb. 25th, grateful for privileges enjoyed.” 
 
 In this simple recital of good work done—with self left 
 out—of erring ones reclaimed, of ignorant ones instructed, 
 of fainting hearts encouraged and sustained, of burdened 
 women blessed and uplifted, and little children soothed and 
 loved and comforted, does not Dr. Bunker’s clear estimate 
 of Miss Ambrose’ devoted life impress us with increasing 
 force: “Many times when weary from hard journeys over 
 the rough mountains, in reaching a Christian village she has 
 often, after a little refreshment, gone out into the village 
 among the women and children to talk of the blessed Master, 
 
18 
 
 weary as she was. In her zeal and love she reminded me 
 often of Jesus at the well of Samaria. She was also perfectly 
 fearless in the discharge of her duties—in her display of 
 truest courage she was exceptional. f The bravest woman I 
 ever knew/ ” 
 
IV. 
 
 “On your life-way, plant wherever you can, instead of the thorn, 
 the fir-tree, instead of the brier, the myrtle. Show by your faithful 
 culture that flowers, the very flowers of heaven, can bloom among the 
 busiest paths that it may be yours to tread.” 
 
 Ik Miss Eastmaffis reminiscences of the “life way” which 
 she and Miss Ambrose trod together, it will be seen that in 
 their “busiest paths” the flowers of heaven were made to 
 bloom. She says, “ My acquaintance with Emma Ambrose 
 began in December 1873, when on her first arrival in Burma 
 I met her in Bangoon and accompanied her up the river to 
 her future home in Toungoo. From the hour of our first 
 meeting to the day of her death, I always found her a cheer¬ 
 ful companion, and one of the most unselfish and faithful 
 friends. In the months that followed soon after her coming, 
 when we two were left alone in the Bghai department, she 
 was a wise counsellor. 
 
 “As a missionary she was indefatigable in labor, always 
 prompt and efficient, equal to all emergencies. She had 
 unusual ability as an organizer. She could set the natives at 
 work, giving each his place and task, making wise selections, 
 and could keep the machinery running smoothly. She could 
 also make herself companionable with the natives in an 
 unusual degree, entering into their thoughts and feelings. 
 Whether among the school children in our own compound, 
 or on the long journey over the mountains, or in the Karen 
 
 19 
 
20 
 
 villages, she would have a group around her, chatting famili¬ 
 arly on every day matters, or talking earnestly of the things 
 of God and His Kingdom. As a Christian, she walked hum¬ 
 bly with God, strong in faith and love. 
 
 “In recalling the months and years of our intimate friend¬ 
 ship, perhaps our first journey together, and our last, stand 
 out most distinctly in the pages of memory. The first was 
 a journey of twelve days in a Burman boat, down the Ran¬ 
 goon river, through the canal, and up the Sittang. It began 
 one sunny afternoon. When we stepped into a sampan 
 which conveyed us to our boat, anchored further down the 
 river. It was a brief period of freedom from cares and res¬ 
 ponsibilities, which were soon to press upon us very heavily. 
 With her, a large portion of each day was spent in studying 
 the Karen, but in the evenings, at our meals, and in the 
 intervals of study, we had much pleasant conversation. 
 
 “Miss Ambrose showed a real appreciation of everything 
 that was beautiful in the scenery or pleasant in her surround¬ 
 ings, and the many discomforts of the journey were forgotten 
 or ignored. This was particularly marked on our arrival at 
 our destination. 
 
 “The large barn-like house had been unoccupied during 
 my absence, save by the Karens left in charge. We could 
 not tell definitely at what hour we should arrive, consequently 
 no preparation had been made for our coming. We reached 
 the last curve of the river a little below the town, just as the 
 dusk was falling, and before we reached our landing-place, 
 the last glimmerings of day had departed. We made our 
 way to the house, which, so far as we could see, was total 
 darkness. But soon a feeble light appeared from a distant 
 
21 
 
 corner, where the Karens had gathered around their little 
 cocoanut-oil lamp in the room which was afterwards Emma’s. 
 To me the place looked exceedingly dismal and forlorn, and 
 it must have seemed even more so to her on this her first 
 introduction to her new home—hut she accepted everything 
 with cheerful courage, and with the help of our Karens, we 
 soon had our home more home-like. 
 
 “The last journey was in March, 1890, when it having 
 been decided that I must return to America, Miss Ambrose 
 volunteered to accompany me from Wah-thau-co, (one of our 
 out-stations), where we with several others were spending 
 the hot season—first to Toungoo and then to Rangoon. Her 
 generous offer was gratefully accepted, though with much 
 reluctance, for her own health was failing, and the risk to 
 her of making that long, hard journey at that season, and of 
 exchanging the cool mountain air for that of the plain, was 
 great. But there seemed no alternative. For me to stay 
 was certain death, and I was much too feeble to take any 
 part in making the necessary preparations for the long voy¬ 
 age. With the usual confidence in the Lord’s guidance and 
 in His power to sustain and give strength, she undertook the 
 task, devoting herself to me with unwearied kindness and 
 devotion. 
 
 “The journey down the mountain occupied four days. I 
 was carried in a hammock. Emma and Hr. Johnson walked 
 much of the way, mounting their ponies when walking be¬ 
 came too wearisome. One incident of the journey illustrates 
 several traits of her character. We had rested during the 
 day in the house of one of our Karen Christians, and at five 
 o’clock resumed our journey. Dr. Johnson hastened on with 
 
22 
 
 the Karen coolies to prepare our camping place for the night. 
 Emma observed that one of the Karen girls was footsore from 
 the journey, and dismounted from her pony to put the girl 
 in her place. But the girl was timid and the pony restive ; 
 so the experiment was not a success. Leaving the girl with 
 her companions. Miss Ambrose remounted and tried to over¬ 
 take the party with me ; but the road was so rough she could 
 go no faster than a walk. Meantime my bearers, as usual, 
 had pressed steadily forward, so as the darkness gathered she 
 found herself entirely alone in the forest. After dark there 
 is great risk from wild animals to any one alone in the jungle. 
 Her first feeling of dismay was speedily overcome by the 
 thought— ‘I am not alone ; the Lord Himself is with me.’ 
 As we, who had reached our stopping place, were wondering 
 what had detained her, she appeared among us, as bright and 
 helpful as ever. 
 
 “When we reached Toungoo, with her usual systematic 
 diligence, she set about the packing and other needed work, 
 giving to the Karens such tasks as they could do, but doing 
 more herself. Eleven years before, our journey from Rangoon 
 by boat had taken about twelve days, this time our journey 
 to Rangoon by train occupied about eleven hours. A day 
 was spent there in final preparation, and on the morning of 
 March 29, 1890, when she had comfortably placed me in my 
 steamer chair, on the deck of the Zeriaiserion, we parted, to 
 meet no more on earth." 
 
 After their return to Toungoo, Miss Ambrose was attacked 
 with cholera, which brought her very close to death, but the 
 faithful care of Miss Anderson and others at the station, with 
 God’s blessing, saved her for this needed work. 
 
23 
 
 As soon as she was able, they moved into their new home, 
 made comfortable by Miss Anderson's loving thought. She 
 says, “The next day, Sunday, was indeed a day of dedication 
 from morn till night; the Holy Spirit has entered our new 
 home with us, and ‘All for Jesus/ is stamped upon all we 
 have and are. It is delightful to feel that everything, great 
 and small, is consecrated to His service. I can see," she says 
 in a letter written to her brother at this time, “that there is 
 one great good gained by writing to the loved ones at home, 
 when affliction comes and God raises us from it, it is a pleas¬ 
 ure to praise Him together for His kindness. God is good. 
 We sometimes try to enumerate the many blessings that we 
 are daily enjoying, but we never succeed in reaching the end. 
 As busy as busy can be, from morning till night, yet our 
 hearts are filled with joy and thanksgiving. He bears our 
 burdens for us, so of course everything goes well. I am 
 grateful for the many prayers that ascended for me Oct. 24— 
 their sweet incense will follow me all the year." 
 
 She continued to improve in health and again gave all her 
 energy to the work. The town school numbered 230 pupils, 
 with 9 native teachers. Thus we come to the beginning of 
 the year 1893, with the work still going on, and yet so much 
 to be accomplished, feeling that we can say in Miss Ambrose' 
 own words, “ Only a slight idea of what God is doing for His 
 kingdom here has been given, but all cannot be told." 
 
y. 
 
 “There is a land where every pulse is thrilling 
 With rapture earth’s sojourners may not know, 
 
 Where heaven’s repose the weary heart is stilling, 
 
 And peacefully life’s storm-tossed currents flow. 
 
 Thither my weak and weary steps are tending. 
 
 Savior and Lord! with Thy frail child abide, 
 
 Guide me toward home were, all my wanderings ending, 
 
 I shall see Thee, and “shall be satisfied.” 
 
 To Miss Anderson we are indebted for a most interesting 
 account of the last year of Miss Ambrose earthly life. She 
 says : “With her it was the darkness just before the dawning, 
 the tossing over the breakers which landed her at last safely 
 on the peaceful shore of the home land. Many a wild storm 
 on the sea of life had she encountered, of these she told me 
 some, others we had been through together. We looked after 
 her with longing eyes, and would have gone too, had the 
 Father called us. 
 
 “ The beginning of that last year may be marked by the 
 sudden death of one of our school boys, over whom we watched 
 most anxiously, and whose death resulted in the breaking up 
 of our school for a time. Soon after she became subject to 
 malarial fever which never wholly disappeared. Still she 
 went on with her work, and was greatly interested in her 
 daily Bible Class. She loved her pupils and constantly 
 sought to bring them into a closer walk with God, but she 
 was especially anxious about three little boys who were not 
 Christians. They were quite little fellows, and did not say 
 
 24 
 
25 
 
 much, so she could not tell what impression she had made 
 upon them. Perhaps it may be of interest to state that her 
 talks were not in vain, as I discovered the other day in speak¬ 
 ing with one of them. I said, Theh-Wee, do you know that 
 Miss Ambrose used to pray that you might become a Christ¬ 
 ian? Do you think you have a new heart? ‘ I don't know/ 
 Well, HI ask you another question—If you should die now, 
 where do you think you would go? ‘To heaven/ Why do 
 you think so? ‘Why, if Jesus died for me, I would go there, 
 wouldn't I?' Are you sure? ‘Yes, I have been sure ever 
 since Miss Ambrose told me so, last year/ 
 
 “We were very busy and had no time to be together except 
 at meals, at worship, and when some care came up which we 
 took to the Lord in prayer. Often we claimed great bless¬ 
 ings in the strength of His promise, and bavins: received 
 
 them, together we praised Him. 
 
 “Her prayers at family worship were always sweet and 
 uplifting; her submissive faith and nearness to God appeared 
 
 then. One morning we sang, ‘Jesus, Saviour, pilot me/ and 
 I discovered it was new to her ; it found a place in her soul, 
 where it remained till there was no longer need of a pilot for 
 ‘ life's tempestuous sea.' A favorite picture of ‘Christ stilling 
 the storm' hung over her bureau, and often the trustful hum¬ 
 ming of the hymn came floating over into my room. 
 
 “After school closed in Jan. 1893, it was soon time to go 
 to the Association, and many, many things must be thought 
 of and done by way of preparation, that we might the best 
 serve the people whom we should meet. At last we found 
 ourselves fairly started. The first day we were to go by boat 
 up the river, and oh ! how we enjoyed it. Nothing to do but 
 
26 
 
 watch the water, the sky, the trees and each other. It was 
 our time of rest and pleasure. At night, however, Miss 
 Ambrose complained of not feeling as well as usual. It was 
 the beginning of an attack of La Grippe which made life a 
 burden all through the meeting. Her illness delayed our 
 going to the Northern Association as soon as we had planned. 
 
 “We intended to leave home in time to visit some churches 
 on the way, and then after the Association to travel among 
 the Northern churches. But all our plans were threatened, 
 and knowing what inconvenience that would be to others and 
 what opportunities we would lose, we made bold to ask God 
 to heal her, and let us do the travelling. Accordingly, we 
 went, and although she was not well, yet when the meetings 
 were over and we began our proposed trip, her sickness dis¬ 
 appeared and in one day’s time all her strength came back. 
 She remarked that she had never felt stronger in all her life. 
 
 “The good that was done during the next two weeks, can¬ 
 not I think be estimated. Continually, we had cause for 
 thanksgiving. Now and then through the year, when we had 
 been especially tired, we had asked each other, ‘Where shall 
 we spend the hot season?’ Other years we had been at Yad- 
 do, but there the work is almost as steady ard wearing as here 
 in town and Miss Ambrose certainly needed a rest. We prayed 
 over it and when a letter came from Mr. Morrow, inviting us 
 to come to Momnagon, we decided to go there. Miss Am¬ 
 brose had always longed to visit the sea-shore; she was as 
 pleased in the anticipation as a little child, nor was her enjoy¬ 
 ment lessened when her wish was realized. Friends, who 
 were with us will remember her perfect delight with every¬ 
 thing. One drawback only and that was an attack of the old 
 
27 
 
 trouble. Greatly refreshed, we returned home in time for the 
 Teacher’s Meeting and the beginning of school the first of 
 J une. 
 
 “One week after school began, everything was in beautiful 
 running order, and no one was sick, but with the coming of 
 the rains came sickness. Dr. Johnson was ever ready with 
 his most excellent counsel, but of course the nursing of the 
 girls fell to us, and in three weeks time there had been no less 
 than sixty cases, some of which lasted two weeks or more. 
 After many disappointed hopes, in regard to each case, it be¬ 
 came disheartening. 
 
 “No one who has not tried it can form any idea of the situa¬ 
 tion—a storm at sea may be like it. The sick must be cared 
 for and still school go on; without the sickness our time is 
 full. I saw a look come over Miss Ambrose’ face one day 
 when she was giving medicine to the sick, that went to my 
 heart, and I said to myself, ‘Oh! if she could get away now. 
 If somebody could only step right in and lift all this care 
 from her shoulders. Is she could onlv blot Burma out of 
 her mind for one week and rest in one of our nice homes at 
 home!’ Was that the turning point from life to death? I 
 fear it was. The rest was very near. 
 
 On Julv 13, these words were written to Mrs. Bacon of the 
 Board, by Mrs. Johnson, of Toungoo : “Miss Ambrose lies 
 very ill. Cholera has not come to Toungoo this year, but we 
 have epidemic dysentery, which is almost as bad. There have 
 been seventy-five cases for treatment, the nursing of the girls 
 must fall upon the ladies, and it is far more difficult to care 
 for a sick person here than at home. Miss Ambrose, with her 
 usual self-sacrificing spirit, took all that upon herself, and 
 
28 
 
 when the disease became epidemic, took all the girls into her 
 own house. She would not even permit Miss Anderson to 
 assist in this care. She took the disease and has been very ill 
 one week.” 
 
 But the swifter message by cable had already come : “Am¬ 
 brose crowned,” followed by another letter from Mrs. Johnson. 
 “Miss Ambrose passed away this morning at five o’clock— 
 July 20. We rejoice in her happy release from suffering but 
 for ourselves we mourn deeply. We have lost one of the 
 noblest, most generous, devoted workers it has ever been my 
 privilege to know. Her reward will be full and sweet. Noth¬ 
 ing ever was too difficult or dangerous for her, and she never 
 undertook anything with the air of a martyr, as if it were a 
 cross, or even a duty. It seemed to be a joy , and she was 
 always glad to pour out her life and strength for the Lord 
 Jesus and for others. 
 
 “In her delirium she talked incessantly of her work and of 
 ‘going home.’ She had before this expressed her earnest wish 
 that she might never be sent to America again. She preferred 
 to go home to heaven in the midst of her labors. Our Father 
 has but granted her request, and it is left for us to ask that 
 her life may impress itself upon these Karens, and her death 
 be the means of great good to them.” 
 
 Can any one doubt that such a life could fail to leave its 
 indelible impress upon every soul who had felt its holy pur¬ 
 pose and pure benediction ? 
 
 Miss Anderson gives us this touching account of the “going 
 home.” “It was Saturday evening, the 8th, after having ex¬ 
 hausted her strength in caring for the sick girls, that she 
 herself was stricken with the prevailing disease. Prompt 
 
29 
 
 
 measures were taken for relief, but without avail. Soon her 
 mind wandered, and she was ‘going home/ Her fancy proved 
 for us sorrowing ones, only too true. 
 
 “It was just as the light of dawn broke through the eastern 
 clouds on the morning of the 20th that her spirit passed from 
 earth, and the eternal day dawned for her in heaven. Through¬ 
 out her sickness she had been comforted in hearing choice 
 words from the Bible and in praying. One night I knelt be¬ 
 side her to pray and before I could begin, she herself was 
 praying—it was too pathetic—all day long her mind had wan¬ 
 dered, and she had not been right in any thing, but when it 
 came to her relation to God nothing was changed. I have 
 noticed since my acquaintance with her, that no thought 
 brought so much joy to her heart as that of Jesus’everlasting 
 love, and our home above. She often said, ‘If I could know 
 that I need not be sick a long time, a hindrance to the mis¬ 
 sionaries, I could wish with all my heart that I might die in 
 the work/ She had that wish literally fulfilled. Her body 
 was, on the morning of the 21st, reverently borne to the cem¬ 
 etery by those for whom she had prayed and labored/ - ’ 
 
 “So others shall take patience, labor to their heart and hand, 
 From thy hands and thy heart, and thy brave cheer, 
 
 And God’s grace fructify through thee to all ; 
 
 The least flower with a brimming cup 
 May stand and share its dew drop 
 With another near.” 
 
 Of Miss Ambrose’s last days, one has said : “ Our admira¬ 
 tion for her sterling worth grew to the last. Few missionaries 
 have a better record than she. The conditions of her service 
 for the Karen people, were of a nature to bring out all her 
 strength of character, and the last years were marked by great 
 
30 
 
 spiritual growth—she seemed to be ripening for a better life. 
 Her health began to fail several years ago, some time before 
 she was called to her rest, and we had fears that she would 
 not remain long with us. Her perseverance in her loved work 
 under great bodily infirmity was marvelous. Often she went 
 cheerfully on with *the work for the Karen girls, so dear to 
 her, when we thought she ought to be in bed, continued at 
 one time till she fainted at the door from excessive weakness. 
 She seemed to know that she had not many years to live and 
 that she must do her utmost for the good of the people in the 
 short time alotted to her. 
 
 “Perhaps there should be mentioned here, her one weakness 
 in all her work, if fault it was, as a warning to like workers. 
 She spared not herself. Though often weak in body, through 
 her infirmities, and greatly needing rest, she still pressed on 
 whenever her work needed her care, even to the point of 
 breaking down. She could not be persuaded to think of her 
 own health, but spent her strength prodigally to the last. In 
 the attack upon her loved girls of an epidemic disease peculiar 
 to this country, she subjected her already waning strength to 
 too great a strain, and succombed to the disease she was com¬ 
 batting among her girls. This shortened her life, (perhaps). 
 Who can tell ? What she did was unto Christ and for love’s 
 sake. It is not always the longest lives that are the best. 
 Her constant ill health, while apparently a great affliction, 
 proved a messenger of God to bring her into most intimate 
 fellowship with Him. One could not associate with her long 
 without feeling that she had obtained f power for service.’ 
 
 “A great multitude of Karen Christians will long mourn 
 our ‘Mamma Ambrose,’ and her grateful associates, grateful * 
 
31 
 
 for her help and companionship so long enjoyed, grateful to 
 God for her noble and consecrated life and example, will cher¬ 
 ish her memory till life ends.” 
 
 Her sorrowing brother writes : “She was such an example 
 and inspiration to me. I mourn her loss to the cause in 
 Burma. I mourn for the dear and simple people she worked 
 among and was so beloved by. I mourn for her generous 
 co-laborers, with all of whom she enjoyed such sweet and 
 helpful relations.” 
 
 Thus, from these sincere and earnest tributes can we see 
 the fulfillment of the aspiration of this woman’s heart. 
 
 ‘‘May I reach that purest heaven, be to other souls 
 The cup of strength in some great agony, 
 
 Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, 
 
 Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, 
 
 So shall I join the choir invisible 
 Whose music is the gladness of the world.” 
 
 C. B. 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 SEP 1S 1 ‘ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PKINTCO IN USA