Edward Judson · 6 of 47

Chapter V. Life in Rangoon. 1813-1819 · Part 1

Mr. and Mrs. Judson, as has already been stated, arrived in Rangoon June 13, 1813. For almost a year and a half since leaving their native land, they had been seeking a home on heathen shores. Having reached Calcutta, they had been forced by the oppressive policy of the East India Company to take refuge upon the Isle of France. They returned again to India and landed at Madras. But they were compelled to flee a second time, and having reluctantly relinquished the strong protection of the British flag, had, at last, settled down in Rangoon, the chief seaport of the Burman Empire. Their own desires and hopes had pointed elsewhere; and it was “with wandering steps and slow” that they had come to this destination. God had drawn around them the relentless toils of His providence, and had hemmed them in to this one opening. But subsequent history has proved that the hand which led them so strangely and sternly, was the hand that never errs. American Christians, in their assault upon Asiatic heathenism, could never have chosen such a strategic position as Rangoon. It is situated near the mouth of the great Irrawaddy River, which is thus described by an English officer:

“After draining the great plain of upper Burmah, it enters a narrow valley lying between the spurs of the Arracan and Pegu ranges, and extending below the city of Prome. Thus the mighty stream rolls on through 75the widening bay, until about ninety miles from the sea, it bifurcates; one branch flows to the westward and forms the Bassein River, while the main channel of the lower part of the Delta subdivides and finally enters the sea by ten mouths. It is navigable for river steamers for 840 miles from the sea, but it is during the rainy season (Monsoon) that it is seen in its full grandeur. The stream then rises forty feet above its summer level, and flooding the banks presents in some places, as far as the eye can reach, a boundless expanse of turbid waters, the main channel of which rushes along with a velocity of five miles an hour.”

The two natural outlets for the commerce of Western China are this great river, and the Yang-tse-kiang, which takes its rise in Thibet, and following an easterly course of nearly three thousand miles, empties itself into the Yellow Sea. Along this channel a vast tide of commerce has flowed from time immemorial, and depositing upon the river-banks its rich sediment of wealth and population, has occasioned the growth of Shanghai, Nanking, and other enormous cities. But the merchandise of Western and Central China would find a shorter and easier and cheaper path to the sea through the valley of the Irrawaddy, and would long ago have pursued that course, had it not been impeded and endangered by rude mountain tribes which the Governments of Burmah and of China have not as yet been vigorous enough to reduce to harmlessness. As civilization advances, a much larger part of the trade of Central Asia will be sure to find its way to the sea through the valley of the Irrawaddy. Christianity always enters the heart of a nation along the lines of trade; so that Rangoon, near the mouth of the Irrawaddy, where Mr. and Mrs. Judson landed, and Bhamo, situated at the head of navigation, 840 miles up the river, where the American Baptists have recently planted a mission, are two of the most important strategical points for the conquest of all Asia.[20]

Rangoon is described by an English traveller who passed through it about the time of the arrival of the Judsons, as

“A miserable, dirty town, containing 8,000 or 10,000 inhabitants, the houses being built with bamboo and teak planks, with thatched roofs—almost without drainage, and intersected by muddy creeks, through which the tide flowed at high water. It had altogether a mean, uninviting appearance, but it was the city of government of an extensive province ruled over by a viceroy, a woongee of the empire, in high favor at the court.”

Some of the first impressions which the country made on the Judsons may be learned from their journals and letters.

“September 20. This is the first Sabbath that we have united in commemorating the dying love of Christ at His table. Though but two in number, we feel the command as binding, and the privilege as great, as if there were more, and we have indeed found it refreshing to our souls.

“December 11. To-day, for the first time, I have visited the wife of the viceroy. I was introduced to her by a French lady, who has frequently visited her. When we first arrived at the Government house she was not up; consequently we had to wait some time. But the inferior wives of the viceroy diverted us much by their curiosity in minutely examining everything we had on, and by trying on our gloves, bonnets, etc. At last her highness made her appearance, dressed richly in the Burman fashion, with a long silver pipe at her mouth, smoking. At her appearance, all the other wives took their seats at a respectful distance, and sat in a crouching posture, without speaking. She received me very politely, took me by the hand, seated me upon a mat, and herself by me. She excused herself for not coming in sooner, saying she was unwell. One of the women brought her a bunch of flowers, of which she took several, and ornamented her cap. She was very inquisitive whether I had a husband and children; whether I was my husband’s first wife—meaning by this, whether I was the highest among them, supposing that my husband, like the Burmans, had many wives; and whether I intended tarrying long in the country. When the viceroy came in, I really trembled, for I never before beheld such a 77savage-looking creature. His long robe and enormous spear not a little increased my dread. He spoke to me, however, very condescendingly, and asked if I would drink some rum or wine. When I arose to go, her highness again took my hand, told me she was happy to see me; that I must come to see her every day, for I was like a sister to her. She led me to the door, and I made my salaam, and departed. My only object in visiting her was, that, if we should get into any difficulty with the Burmans, I could have access to her, when perhaps it would not be possible for Mr. Judson to get access to the viceroy. One can obtain almost any favor from her by making a small present. We intend to have as little to do with Government people as possible, as our usefulness will probably be among the common people. Mr. Judson lately visited the viceroy, when he scarcely deigned to look at him, as English men are no uncommon sight in this country; but an English female is quite a curiosity.”

“It is nearly a year since I wrote to America, my last being forwarded by brother Rice. I have had no opportunity of conveyance since that time, nor have I any at present. I intend to send this to England, hoping that on its arrival the war may have terminated, or that it may find a conveyance in a dispatch vessel. We have been here about six months; have been living in the mission-house, with brother F. Carey’s family, but expect within a few days to take a house within the walls of the town on account of the bands of robbers which infest all the country, and which have lately been very numerous and daring. Our situation is much more comfortable than we expected it would be in such a country. We enjoy good health, and though deprived of all congenial Christian society, we are very happy in each other, and think we frequently enjoy His presence whose smile can turn the darkest night to day, and whose favor is the fountain of all happiness. ‘Peace I leave with you—my peace I give unto you.’ There has yet been but very little effected in this country to any real missionary purpose. Brother Carey’s 78time is greatly occupied in Government matters. The emperor has given him a title, and requires him to reside in the capital. He is just now going to Bengal on his majesty’s business, and expects, after his return, to reside at Ava. Not a single Burman has yet been brought to a knowledge of the truth, or even to serious inquiry. In all the affairs of this Government, despotism and rapine are the order of the day. The present viceroy of this province is a savage man. Life and death depend on his nod. He is very large in stature, and when he stalks about with his long spear, everybody shrinks from before him. I called on him once, but he scarcely looked at me. Ann waited on her highness, and was much better received. This man is about to be recalled to Ava, and it is doubtful whether he will return. During the interim we expect all things will be in confusion, and this is one reason why we desire to get within the walls of the city.

“My only object at present is to prosecute, in a still, quiet manner, the study of the language, trusting that for all the future ‘God will provide.’ We have this consolation, that it was the evident dispensation of God which brought us to this country; and still further, that if the world was all before us, where to choose our place of rest, we should not desire to leave Burmah. Our chief anxiety is that brother Rice may not be able to join us again; but even this we desire to leave in His hands who doeth all things well.”

“My dear Brother Newell:

“A few days since we received yours of December 18th, the only one we have ever received since you left us at Port Louis. It brought fresh to my mind a recollection of scenes formerly enjoyed in our dear native country. Well do I remember our first interesting conversations on missions and on the probable events which awaited us in India. Well do I remember the dear parental habitation where you were pleased to favor me with your confidence relative to a companion for life. And well do I remember the time when I 79first carried your message to the mother of our dear Harriet, when the excellent woman exclaimed with tears in her eyes, ‘I dare not, I can not speak against it.’ Those were happy days. Newell and Judson, Harriet and Nancy, then were united in the strictest friendship, then anticipated spending their lives together in sharing the trials and toils, the pleasures and enjoyments, of a missionary life. But, alas! behold us now! In the Isle of France, solitary and alone, lies all that was once visible of the lovely Harriet. A melancholy wanderer on the Isle of Ceylon is our brother Newell, and the savage, heathen empire of Burmah is destined to be the future residence of Judson and Nancy. But is this separation to be forever? Shall we four never again enjoy social, happy intercourse? No, my dear brother, our separation is of short duration. There is a rest—a peaceful, happy rest, where Jesus reigns, where we four soon shall meet to part no more. Forgive my gloomy feelings, or rather forgive my communicating them to you, whose memory, no doubt, is ever ready to furnish more than enough for your peace.

“As Mr. Judson will not have time to write you by this opportunity, I will endeavor to give you some idea of our situation here, and of our plans and prospects. We have found the country, as we expected, in a most deplorable state, full of darkness, idolatry, and cruelty—full of commotion and uncertainty. We daily feel that the existence and perpetuity of this mission, still in an infant state, depend in a peculiar manner on the interposing hand of Providence; and from this impression alone we are encouraged still to remain. As it respects our temporal privations, use has made them familiar, and easy to be borne; they are of short duration, and when brought in competition with the worth of immortal souls, sink into nothing. We have no society, no dear Christian friends, and with the exception of two or three sea captains, who now and then call on us, we never see a European face. But then, we are still happy in each other; still find that our own home is our best, our dearest friend. When we feel a disposition to sigh for the enjoyments of our native country, we turn our eyes on the miserable objects 80around. We behold some of them laboring hard for a scanty subsistence, oppressed by an avaricious Government, which is ever ready to seize what industry had hardly earned; we behold others sick and diseased, daily begging the few grains of rice which, when obtained, are scarcely sufficient to protract their wretched existence, and with no other habitation to screen them from the burning sun, or chilly rains, than what a small piece of cloth raised on four bamboos under a tree can afford. While we behold these scenes, we feel that we have all the comforts, and, in comparison, even the luxuries, of life. We feel that our temporal cup of blessings is full, and runneth over. But is our temporal lot so much superior to theirs? Oh, how infinitely superior our spiritual blessings! While they vainly imagine to purchase promotion in another state of existence by strictly worshipping their idols and building pagodas, our hopes of future happiness are fixed on the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world. When we have a realizing sense of these things, my dear brother, we forget our native country and former enjoyments, feel contented and happy with our lot, with but one wish remaining—that of being instrumental in leading these Burmans to partake of the same source of happiness with ourselves.

“Respecting our plans, we have at present but one—that of applying ourselves closely to the acquirement of the language, and to have as little to do with Government as possible. Brother Carey has never yet preached in Burman, but has made considerable progress toward the completion of a grammar and dictionary, which are a great help to us. At present, however, his time is entirely taken up with Government affairs. It is now almost a year since he was ordered up to Ava, which time has been wholly occupied in the king’s business. He has just returned from Bengal, and is now making preparations for Ava, where he expects to found a new mission station. His family go with him; consequently we shall be alone until the arrival of brother Rice, who, we hope, will arrive in six or seven months.

“Our progress in the language is slow, as it is peculiarly 81hard of acquisition. We can, however, read, write, and converse with tolerable ease, and frequently spend whole evenings very pleasantly in conversing with our Burman friends. We have been very fortunate in procuring good teachers. Mr. Judson’s teacher is a very learned man, was formerly a priest, and resided at court. He has a thorough knowledge of the grammatical construction of the language, likewise of the Pali, the learned language of the Burmans.”

It may be well to consider for a moment the task which the young missionary had set before him. What did they propose to do, this man of twenty-five and his young wife, standing amid the level rice fields on the coast of Lower Burmah, with their faces turned landward toward towns and cities swarming with idolaters, and hill-tops crowned with heathen temples and pagodas? Their purpose was to undermine an ancient religion, deeply fixed in the hearts and habits of four hundred millions of human beings. They did not propose to bring to bear influences by which Christianity was to be introduced as a State religion and reluctant knees be forced to bow to the Christ. This would have been indeed an audacious undertaking. But they sought to work out a more searching revolution, nothing less than a change of belief and of heart in each individual. The millions of Burmans were to be taken one by one—their affections subdued, and their characters transfigured by the religion of Christ. They felt sure that in the mass of people about them, there was here and there a man who had been so schooled by the providences of God, and so matured by the Divine Spirit, that if the story of the Cross could once be got to him, he would immediately accept it and say, “That is just what I want.” As the sod of moss, brought from the woods into the house, often contains within its bosom hidden germs, and after a season, in the warmth of the parlor, sends forth sweet, unexpected spring flowers, so out of the unattractive sod of heathenism, under the genial rays of the Holy Spirit, might emerge disciples of Christ, and these 82disciples, organized by baptism into churches, would, by the same process of reaching individual souls, little by little leaven the whole of the empire.

But what means did Mr. Judson use in his endeavor to bring about this great moral and spiritual revolution? Simply the Gospel of Christ. The sole weapons of his warfare were the old-fashioned truths, the existence of a personal and beneficent God, the fatal sinfulness of man, and salvation by faith in the Son of God, who came to “seek and to save that which was lost.” No system of truth could be devised more diametrically opposed to Buddhism, which teaches that there is no God to save, no soul to be saved, and no sin to be saved from. He felt sure that if he could only plant the seeds of Christian truth in the soil of the Burman’s heart, then, under the mellowing influence of the Holy Spirit, they would germinate and bring forth the fruit of meek and pure behavior. As in flushing a drain, a large body of pure water is poured through the whole length of it, washing out every impurity, so the Gospel of Christ is a cleansing tide, which, as it courses through the individual heart, or through human society, sweeps away before it all the stagnant and loathsome accumulations of sin.

Mr. Judson did not believe that Christianity should follow in the wake of civilization. He did not propose to spend his time in teaching the arts and sciences of the Western world, in imparting more correct astronomical, geographical, and geological conceptions, in order, little by little, to prepare the mind of the Burman to accept his religious ideas. He had implicit confidence in the promise of his Master, “Lo, I am with you alway.” He believed that Christ was with him in the heart of the heathen, unlocking the door from the inside.

Again, he did not say to himself, “It is a hopeless task to attempt the conversion of the hoary heads. I will try to gather the little children together and establish schools, and thus purify the fountains of national life.” He had his 83schools, indeed, but they were quite subordinate to the work of preaching the Gospel to the adult mind. He reached the children through the parents, and not the parents through the children. He believed that the grown-up Burmans, rather than their children, should bear the brunt of persecution involved in embracing a new religion. He followed the method of the Acts of the Apostles. A preacher of the Gospel, he did not allow himself to shrivel into a mere school-teacher or a school-book maker.

There were only two channels through which the truths of the Gospel could be conveyed to the conscience of the Burman—the eyes and the ears. The natives were emphatically a reading people. They had their ancient scriptures embodying the teachings of Gaudama, and the first question asked of the propagator of a new religion would be, “Where are your sacred books?” So that one way in which Mr. Judson communicated the Gospel was by the translation of tracts—either succinct and concrete statements of Christian truth, or portions of the Bible. These were not scattered about like autumn leaves, but were given discriminatingly to individuals, the gift often being accompanied by a solemn injunction to read, followed by a fervent prayer. The following letter to the Rev. Dr. Baldwin shows how earnestly he engaged in this work of imparting Christian truth in a printed form:

“Have just heard that a person whom we have some time calculated on as a letter-carrier to Bengal is unexpectedly going off in the course of an hour. Have, therefore, time only to accompany the enclosed tracts with a line or two.

“We have just begun to circulate these publications, and are praying that they may produce some inquiry among the natives. And here comes a man, this moment, to talk about religion. What shall I do? I will give him a tract, to keep him occupied a few moments while I finish this. ‘Here, my friend, sit down, and read something that will carry you to 84heaven if you believe and receive the glorious Saviour therein exhibited.’

“We are just entering on a small edition of Matthew, the translation of which I lately commenced. But we are in great want of men and money. Our hands are full from morning till night. I can not, for my life, translate as fast as brother Hough will print. He has to do all the hard work in the printing-office, without a single assistant, and can not, therefore, apply himself to the study of the language, as is desirable. As for me, I have not an hour to converse with the natives, or go out and make proclamation of the glorious Gospel. In regard to money, we have drawn more from Bengal than has been remitted from America; so that now, if not for their truly brotherly kindness in honoring our bills on credit, we should actually starve. Moreover, an edition of five thousand of the New Testament will cost us nearly five thousand dollars. And what are five thousand among a population of seventeen millions, five millions of whom can read? O that all the members of the Baptist Convention could live in Rangoon one month! Will the Christian world ever awake? Will means ever be used adequate to the necessities of the heathen world? O Lord, send help! Our waiting eyes are unto Thee!”

It is a noteworthy fact that the attention of the first serious Burman inquirer was caught by two little writings that fell into his hands, a tract and a catechism. The British and Foreign Bible Society publish a statement, made upon the authority of Sir Bartle Frere, that he met “with an instance which was carefully investigated, in which all the inhabitants of a remote village in the Deccan had abjured idolatry and caste, removed from their temples the idols which had been worshipped there time out of mind, and agreed to profess a form of Christianity which they had deduced for themselves from the careful perusal of a single Gospel and a few tracts.” And the eminent African missionary, Moffat, related that when he was almost perishing for want of food, he was succored by an old negro woman 85whose spiritual life had been fed for years from a little copy of the Dutch New Testament. She drew it from her bosom and said: “This is the fountain whence I drink; this is the oil which makes my lamp to burn.”

But far more important than the work of translating and distributing tracts, catechisms, and portions of the Scripture, was the oral preaching of the Gospel. For this Mr. Judson had rare aptitude, and in it he won his most signal triumphs. While engaged in the necessary work of translation, he was always pining for the opportunity of imparting the message of salvation with the living voice. In a letter to Dr. Bolles he says: “I long to see the whole New Testament complete, for I will then be able to devote all my time to preaching the Gospel from day to day; and often now the latter appears to be the more pressing duty. May the Spirit of the Lord be poured out!” When eye meets eye, and the mind of an objector is confronted by a living, loving personality, he receives a deeper impression of religious truth than he can ever get even from the leisurely perusal of a printed book. The press can never supplant the pulpit. The truth, which, when pressed home by the earnest voice of the speaker, carries with it conviction, and arouses the conscience, and kindles the affections, is often weak and thin when presented on the printed page.

But Mr. Judson’s preaching was unlike that of the orator about whom a great throng gathers. After the little chapel, or zayat, was built, public worship indeed was held, the audience consisting of perhaps a hundred persons. But most of the preaching at first was to the individual. It was a process of spiritual button-holing. A single person would enter into a discussion with the missionary, while a few others would draw near to witness the encounter. It was in these hand-to-hand frays that Mr. Judson often extorted exclamations of admiration from the bystanders, as with his keen logic he hewed his opponent to pieces as Samuel did Agag.

86His preaching was concrete. He did not deal in vague abstractions. Truth assumed, in his mind, statuesque forms. His conversation abounded in images and illustrations; and in this respect he resembled the great Teacher, whom England’s poet laureate thus describes:

Mrs. E. C. Judson contributes a reminiscence of his vivid method of imparting religious truth:

“A native Christian woman told me that she was at one time about to engage in something which Dr. Judson considered not conducive to her spiritual good. He sent for her, and remonstrated; but she would not give up her darling project. ‘Look here!’ said he, eagerly snatching a ruler from the table, and tracing not a very straight line on the floor, ‘here is where you have been walking. You have made a crooked track, to be sure—out of the path half of the time; but then you have kept near it, and not taken to new roads, and you have—not so much as you might have done, mind, but still to a certain extent—grown in grace; and now, with all this growth upon your heart and head, in the maturity of your years, with ripened understanding and an every-day deepening sense of the goodness of God, here,’ bringing down the ruler with emphasis to indicate a certain position, ‘here you stand. You know where this path leads. You know what is before you—some struggles, some sorrows, and finally eternal life and a crown of glory. But to the left branches off another very pleasant road, and along the air floats, rather temptingly, a pretty bubble. You do not mean to leave the path you have walked in fifteen years—fifteen long years—altogether; you only want to step aside and catch the bubble, and think you will come back again; but you never will. Woman, think! Dare you deliberately leave this strait and narrow path, drawn by the 87Saviour’s finger, and go away for one moment into that of your enemy? Will you? will you? WILL YOU?’

“‘I was sobbing so,’ said the woman, ‘that I could not speak a word; but he knew, as he always did, what I meant; for he knelt down, and prayed that God would preserve me in my determination. I have made a great many crooked tracks since,’ she added, tearfully, ‘but, whenever I am unusually tempted, I see the teacher as he looked that day, bending over in his chair, the ruler placed on the floor to represent me, his finger pointing along the path of eternal life, his eye looking so strangely over his shoulder, and that terrible “Will you?” coming from his lips as though it was the voice of God; and I pray just as Peter did, for I am frightened.’”

Behind his words, when he preached, lay the magnet of a great character. He was a man of tender sensibilities and of strong affections. There was no mistaking his motives. He had come a long distance and endured great hardships because he loved the Burmans. Little by little they found this out; and the power of a preacher is in direct ratio with his capacity for inspiring confidence and affection. Not the truth on the lips, but the truth incarnated in the behavior, has weight. One who often heard him preach in Burmese, though she was at that time only slightly acquainted with the language, writes:

“He preached with great fervor and earnestness; but besides this, there was a touching simplicity in the matter and language, which it was long before I could appreciate. His figures, which I understood sooner, were drawn from immediately surrounding objects. Of these, in accordance with Eastern taste, he made great use. He often remarked that Christ was the model preacher, and that He never preached great sermons.”

A missionary thus describes the impression which he received from hearing Mr. Judson the first time:

“True, he preached in Burman; but though I did not know the meaning of a single sentence he uttered, still my attention was never more 88closely riveted in any sermon I have ever heard. Were I to fix upon any characteristic of the preacher which, perhaps more than any other, rendered his discourse interesting and impressive, I should say it was earnestness of manner. It was impossible for any one to escape the conviction that his whole soul was in the work. Every tone, every look, every gesture spoke out in most emphatic language to tell us that the man was in earnest to make us believe the truths that he uttered. But what contributed not a little to the interest of the occasion was the appearance of the assembly. Every hearer sat motionless, every eye was immovably fixed upon the preacher, and every countenance seemed to change with every varied expression of sentiment; now beaming forth joy, as though some joyous news from the other world had just reached them, which before had never gladdened their hearts—now depicting a feeling of anxiety as though their mortal all, or that of their friends, were at stake; and next, of deep solemnity, as though standing before their final judge!”