Who so worthily followed in the footsteps of the first Mrs. Judson, arrived in India with her first husband, the Rev. George D. Boardman, while Mr. Judson and his fellow-sufferers were still prisoners in Ava.

They remained in Calcutta till the close of the war, and some time after, preparing themselves by the study of the Burmese language, etc., for their subsequent career of usefulness in Burma.

After they had joined the other missionaries at Amherst, Maulmain was determined upon as the scene of their future labors, and thither they repaired. The dangers that encompa.s.sed their new residence were such as in the presence of which even stout hearts might have been excused for quailing. The mission-house was a slight structure of bamboos, const.i.tuting scarcely any obstruction to a.s.sailants disposed to effect an entrance, and in such close proximity to the jungle that the slumbers of the missionaries were frequently disturbed by the howling of the wild beasts, whose lairs had so recently given place to human habitations. Maulmain was then a new city that had suddenly sprung into existence within the territory ceded to the British.

They had been settled in their new abode but a few weeks, when it was entered in the night by robbers, who overhauled all their effects, and carried away most of their valuables while they slept.

Mrs. Boardman, speaking of the event, says: "After the first amazement had a little subsided, I raised my eyes to the curtains surrounding our bed, and, to my indescribable emotion, saw two large holes cut, the one at the head and the other at the foot of the place where my dear husband had been sleeping. From that moment I quite forgot the stolen goods, and thought only of the treasure that was spared. In imagination I saw the a.s.sa.s.sins, with their horrid weapons, standing by our bedside, ready to do their worst had we been permitted to wake. O, how merciful was that watchful Providence which prolonged those powerful slumbers of that night, not allowing even the infant at my bosom to open its eyes at so critical a moment!"

After the robbery, a guard was sent from the English barracks to protect the missionaries in case of another visit from the marauders. One of the guard narrowly escaped death from a wild beast, which, rushing out of the jungle, leaped upon him while he was seated upon the veranda of the mission-house. Happily there was help at hand, and the animal was frightened away before the man had sustained serious injury.

Do we find Mrs. Boardman, while thus continually exposed to attacks of ravenous beasts and fierce banditti, deploring her situation, or expressing a desire to relinquish their work and return to the security and comfort of civilized life? On the contrary, she characterizes the months in which these events were transpiring as among the happiest of her life, because she felt that they were in the path of duty.

Afterward, in order to the further extension of missionary operations in the country, it was judged advisable for Mr. and Mrs. Boardman to leave the infant Church and the schools they had so successfully established at Maulmain, to the care of the other missionaries, and to proceed themselves to Tavoy. Accordingly, they sundered the ties that bound them to their first Indian home, and to the natives in whose conversion they had been instrumental, and again devoted their energies to breaking up new ground.

At Tavoy, after overcoming various obstacles and discouragements, they succeeded in establishing schools, and were cheered by indications of prosperity and some conversions among the natives.

The conversion of a Karen having attracted Mr. Boardman's attention to that interesting tribe, he, though scarcely recovered from a dangerous illness, made a tour among them with very gratifying results. It required no small amount of courage and of exalted devotion to the cause in which they were engaged to make Mrs. Boardman willing to be left, with her two little ones, among the natives in such a place, and with no better protection from outside dangers than a bamboo hut, her mind, at the same time, distressed by sad forebodings as to the probable consequence to her husband's feeble health of the exposures, toils, and dangers inseparable from his journey. But she was equal to this and to sorer trials which yet awaited them at Tavoy. Some of these were consequences of the rebellion of the Tavoyans against the British.

It was fortunate for Mr. and Mrs. Boardman that they, at that time, resided in a place occupied by a British force; small though the force was, yet to its presence they were probably indebted for their exemption from aggravated sufferings, if not from death itself.

From a letter of Mr. Boardman's we take some extracts. He says: "On Lord's-day morning, the 9th instant, at four o'clock, we were aroused from our quiet slumbers by the cry of 'Teacher, master, Tavoy rebels!'

and ringing at all our doors and windows. We were soon awake to our extreme danger, as we heard not only a continual report of musketry within the town, but the b.a.l.l.s were frequently pa.s.sing over our heads and through our house; and, in a few moments, a large company of Tavoyans collected near our gate, and gave us reason to suspect they were consulting what to do with us. We lifted our hearts to G.o.d for protection, and Mrs. Boardman and little George were hurried away through a back door to a retired building in the rear. I lay down in the house (to escape the bullets), with a single Burman boy to watch and communicate the first intelligence."

On the kind invitation of Mrs. Burney, the wife of the English resident, who happened to be absent, they sought shelter from the storm of bullets in the Government-house. Mr. Boardman continues: "We had been at the Government-house but a short time, when it was agreed to evacuate the town and retire to the warf--a large wooden building of six rooms.

Our greatest danger at this time arose from having, in one of the rooms where many were to sleep, and all of us were continually pa.s.sing, several hundred barrels of gunpowder, to which, if fire should be communicated accidentally by ourselves, or mischievously by others, we should all perish at once. But, through the kind care of our Heavenly Father, we were preserved alive, and nothing of importance occurred until the morning of Thursday, a little before daybreak, when a party of five hundred advanced upon us from the town, and set fire to several houses and vessels near the warf. But G.o.d interposed in our behalf, and sent a heavy shower of rain, which extinguished the fire, while the Sepoys repelled the a.s.sailants."

Mrs. Boardman's biographer says: "What could be more appalling to the stoutest heart than the situation of Mrs. Boardman and her helpless family? Forced to flee from her frail hut, by bullets actually whizzing through it, and to pa.s.s through the town amid the yells of an infuriated rabble, her path sometimes impeded by the dead bodies of men who had fallen in the conflict; driven from the shelter of the Government-house, again to fly through the streets to the warf-house, and there, with three or four hundred fugitives crowded together, to await death, which threatened them in every form; hearing over their heads the rush of cannon b.a.l.l.s, and seeing from burning buildings showers of sparks falling, one of which, if it reached the magazines under their roof, was sufficient to tear the building from its foundations, and whelm them all in one common ruin; or, if they escaped this danger, to know that hundreds of merciless barbarians, with knives and cutla.s.ses, might, at any moment, rush into the building and destroy them,--can the female heart, we are ready to ask, endure such fearful trial? Yes: her mind was stayed by a 'courage not her own;' ... its calmness was that of a child who, in its utter helplessness, clings to its father's arm."

Her distress was aggravated by the alarming illness of her little boy, caused by the foul air of the warf-house and the absence of accustomed comforts; but, by the blessing of G.o.d upon her watchful care, it was spared to her.

"With what transports of joy did that suffering company hail the sight of the thin blue smoke that heralded the arrival of a steamer from Maulmain! Amid what distracting fears for her husband, left in the revolted city, her infant and herself, did Mrs. Boardman decide to go on board the steamer returning to Maulmain! And with what grat.i.tude and joy did she, after several days of painful suspense, welcome to the same city her husband, and hear the tidings of the triumph of British power and the restoration of tranquillity!"

The rebellion being suppressed, Mr. Boardman set about repairing the mischief it had wrought. Their house had been cut to pieces, and their books, clothing, furniture, etc., carried off, mutilated, or destroyed.

He gathered up such fragments as remained, and made the best arrangements in his power for future comfort and usefulness. Illness and other causes detained Mrs. Boardman for some time at Maulmain; but, before Winter, she had returned, and they were again engaged in their "loved employ," and were greatly strengthened and encouraged by seeing the good seed they had so faithfully sown amid opposition and discouragement, bringing forth fruit in the conversion of the heathen.

But, even while rejoicing in these triumphs of the truth, Mrs. Boardman could not conceal from herself the conviction that a greater sorrow than any she had yet known was coming upon her. She had already twice experienced the agony that wrings the hearts of bereaved parents. Of their three children, two had been taken from them by death,--their first-born, a lovely and promising little girl of two years and eight months; and, afterward, their second son, a beautiful babe of eight months. But all the suffering and sorrow that she had yet endured seemed as nothing in comparison with that which now threatened to overwhelm her. Her beloved husband, who had been her comfort and solace under previous bereavements, was now himself too evidently pa.s.sing away.

Ardently affectionate in her nature, she suffered intense anguish of spirit; but instead of giving way to rebellious repinings, the poor bruised heart carried its sorrows to the Great Healer, and in his strength she girded herself with fresh courage to do all that might yet be done.

When her dying husband could not be dissuaded from employing the last remnant of his ebbing life in another visit to his beloved Karens, we find her taking her place beside his portable couch, that his sufferings might receive every possible alleviation; that he might lack no tender attention that the most devoted love could give.

They arrived at their destination on the third day, and found awaiting them nearly a hundred natives, more than half of whom were applicants for baptism. The place prepared for the accommodation of Mr. and Mrs.

Boardman and their little boy, was a room five feet wide and ten feet long, so low that Mrs. Boardman could not stand upright in it, and so insufficiently inclosed as not to shelter the sufferer from the cold and damp of the night air, or the scorching rays of the sun by day. Those who have known what it is to watch beside dying loved ones, witnessing suffering that they were powerless to relieve, can imagine the anguish that Mrs. Boardman endured in seeing her husband so near his end in that miserable place, dest.i.tute of the little comforts so needful in sickness. But with heroic determination she repressed her own sorrow, lest it might incapacitate her for a.s.sisting him while rallying his expiring energies for one more effort in his Master's cause. The poor worn body, though, was found unequal to the task a.s.signed it by the zealous spirit, and he was forced to admit that his work was done.

Mrs. Boardman, speaking of their return journey, in which they were accompanied by large numbers of the sorrowing native converts, says: "But at four o'clock in the afternoon, we were overtaken by a violent shower of rain, accompanied by lightning and thunder. There was no house in sight, and we were obliged to remain in the open air, exposed to the merciless storm. We covered him with mats and blankets, and held our umbrellas over him, all to no purpose. I was obliged to stand and see the storm beating upon him till his mattress and pillows were drenched with rain. We hastened on, and soon came to a Tavoy house. The inhabitants at first refused us admittance.... After some persuasion, they admitted us into the house, or rather veranda; for they would not allow us to sleep inside, though I begged the privilege for my sick husband with tears.... The rain still continued, and his cot was wet, so that he was obliged to lie on the bamboo floor. Having found a place where our little boy could sleep without danger of falling through openings in the floor, I threw myself down, without undressing, beside my beloved husband."

Thus they pa.s.sed the last night of his life; and, before another night, it was but a lifeless corpse that the attendants were bearing back to her now desolate home.

In her grief and loneliness, her heart doubtless yearned for the soothing sympathy of her kindred and friends in her native land. Who would have censured her, if in view of what had been achieved among the natives since their coming to Tavoy, and of all the trials and toils and dangers of her Indian life, it had seemed to her that her work was accomplished; and that it would then be no desertion of duty for her, with her little boy to educate, to return to America? If, during the first sad days of her bereavement, such thoughts flitted through her mind, they did not long find lodgment there. Soon the native converts began to come to her, as of old, with their difficulties and perplexities, and inquiries for instruction. The duty of responding to these appeals forbade the indulgence of engrossing sorrow, and caused her to realize that, when work for the Master was pressing on every hand, and one of the laborers had fallen in the field, his fellow-laborers, instead of relaxing their efforts, should feel it imperative on them, if possible, to redouble their diligence.

Thenceforward her labors became more onerous than they had been during Mr. Boardman's life; and they continued so, even after the arrival of the new missionaries, Mr. Mason and his wife, who of necessity were chiefly occupied with the study of the language. In one of her letters of this period she says:

"Every moment of my time is occupied, from sunrise till ten in the evening. It is late bed-time, and I am surrounded by five Karen women.... The Karens are beginning to come to us in companies; and with them, and our scholars in the town, and the care of my darling boy, you will scarce think I have much leisure for letter-writing."

Later, she writes: "The superintendence of the food and clothing of both the boarding-schools, together with the care of five day-schools under native teachers, devolves wholly on me."

She also made difficult journeys through the wild jungles to the Karen villages, to strengthen, encourage, and instruct the poor natives; thus performing efficiently, though informally, the work of an evangelist.

After her marriage with Dr. Judson, and her consequent return to Maulmain, she was still busily engaged in conducting schools, Bible-cla.s.s, etc., besides attending to her family. She also learned the Peguan language, into which she translated the New Testament, a Life of Christ, and several tracts. In Burmese she had previously become proficient, and she translated "Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress" into that language. A number of the hymns prepared for the use of the mission were also from her pen.

At Maulmain she was exposed to fewer vicissitudes and dangers than at Tavoy, so that the intrepid aspect of her character became less conspicuous; but her life was filled up with increased maternal responsibilities and domestic cares, added to other arduous labors of the same cla.s.s with those which she had previously discharged with so much sound judgment, and in which she exhibited so happily the ability to influence and govern those under her control, and at the same time to win their love and reverence for herself. One of her biographers says of her:

"Sweetness and strength, gentleness and firmness, were in her character most happily blended. Her mind was both poetical and practical. She had a refined taste, and a love for the beautiful as well as the excellent."

In early life she wooed the Muses with respectable success; and though the stern labors of mature years left her little leisure for the indulgence of poetic fancies, yet the last expression of her love committed to writing flowed from her pen in numbers of touching grace and tenderness.

Her const.i.tution having been broken down by her incessant toils, a voyage to America was recommended in order to recuperate it. On the voyage thither, when between the Isle of France and St. Helena, she died, and was buried on the latter island.

We have selected these two gifted Christian women as representative missionary women, who, though brilliant examples, did not excel many others in the host of devoted women who have gone out from Great Britain and America into the dark places of the earth, on the same G.o.dlike errand.

We have already mentioned the honored names of several philanthropic ladies, whose works praise them throughout Europe and America. The list might be extended indefinitely, but we have s.p.a.ce for but a few.

THE MISSES CHANDLER.

The National Hospital erected for the Paralyzed and Epileptic (England) owes its origin to the humane efforts of two sisters, Joanna and Louisa Chandler. These ladies, finding that among all the charitable inst.i.tutions existing in London there was not one into which a poor paralyzed man would be admitted, conceived the idea of establishing a hospital for that particular cla.s.s of sufferers. Though only in moderate circ.u.mstances, they devoted two hundred pounds of their own means to the object. For five years, they received no a.s.sistance; but their continued appeals at length attracted public attention. Various philanthropic gentlemen and ladies became interested in the enterprise. The necessary funds were collected mainly by the exertions of Miss J. Chandler and the ladies who had a.s.sociated themselves with her, and the hospital became an accomplished fact.

The same persevering energy, directed by sound judgment and practical business talent, was conspicuously displayed by Miss Adaline Cooper, in her efforts for the improvement of the condition and morals of the costermongers of Tothill Fields, Westminster. Among the degraded, they as a cla.s.s were regarded as the most degraded. But, strong in her faith in the power of kindness, she went in among them, and commenced day and night schools, a Sunday-school, a mothers' meeting, and a temperance society. Through these appliances she influenced the women and children, but the men stood aloof. The more desperate even threatened to drive her and her a.s.sistants away; but she was not to be intimidated. She erected a handsome building for a Costermongers' Club; and constructed a dwelling-house large enough to accommodate fifty or sixty families. The entire expenditure for these purposes amounted to nearly nine thousand pounds.

Soon after the Club was formed, a large number of the members, perceiving the benefit of abstinence, signed the pledge. She formed a Bible-cla.s.s for their improvement, and established a penny-bank for the Band of Hope.

In reward of her labors, she had the satisfaction of seeing a marked reformation in both their morals and circ.u.mstances. Very many of these poor people, the very name of whose calling had been a synonym for dishonesty and kindred vices, became sober, industrious, and honest men and women.

Sketches innumerable of other women of very great merit, particularly of those who have enriched our literature during the present century, might be added, did the limits of so small a volume permit; which it does not.

It must suffice, therefore, to mention the names of a few of these, while the names of many others equally meritorious must necessarily be omitted.

First, we write Mrs. Browning, a name surrounded by a halo of glory from the scintillations of her own genius.

Charlotte Bronte, Miss Mulock, Mrs. Wood, and Mrs. Oliphant form a brilliant galaxy, but scarcely outshine others in the same department.

Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe has made her mark upon her age, and is not likely to be forgotten while the War of Secession is remembered.

The sweet strains of the sisters Cary will linger long in the ears and hearts of the lovers of song.

The name of the gentle Swede, Fredrika Bremer, will live as long as the language in which she writes shall be spoken or read; while Mary Howitt, her translator, is, through these beautiful translations, and her own inimitably chaste and home-like stones, endeared to both English and American hearts.

Mrs. Willard will bear a favorable comparison with any other American historian, let him be ever so famous.

Mrs. Moodie and her gifted sisters, Mrs. Trail and Miss Strickland, have acquired a world-wide reputation by their pens.