Memoir of Mrs. Ann H. Judson : late missionary to Burmah ; including a history of the American Baptist mission in the Burman empire

Front matter

oi > ? 5 AN f : ie *

Be a ae MEMOIR

MRS. ANN Hi. JUDSON,

CHAPTER I.—Mrs. An a, Education, bi Conversion

CHAPTER II. awe m4 gts 's Connexion with Mr.

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Judson, “ d «

Calcutta, -

CHAPTER IV.—Difficulties with the Bengal Government—Mr. and Mrs. Judson, and Mr. Rice, become Baptists, - - - . 4 -

CHAPTER V.—Mr. and Mrs. Judson, and Mr. Rice sail for the Isle of France—Mrs. Newell’s death—Mr. Rice sails for America—Mr. and Mrs. J. sail for Madras—Arrivalat Rangoon, - - -— =

CHAPTER VI.—Sketch of the Geography, History, Religion, Language, &c. of the Burman Empire, -

CHAPTER VII os ota of is. seer at t ans" rs

CHAPTER VIil.—Letters of Mrs. Judson—Birth a Death of a Son—Arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Hough,

CHAPTER IX.—Mr. Judson’s Visit to Chittagong— Persecution of Mr. Hough, and his Departure for Bengal—Return of Mr. Judson—Arrival of Messrs. Colman and Wheelock, - - - - +

CHAPTER X.--Mr. Judson. commences Preaching--- First Convert baptized---Death of Mr. Wheelock, ed A se, Se

Vili CONTENTS, CHAPTER XI.---Visit to Ava--- Uncen Interview with the King, ==

CHAPTER XII.---Arrival in Calcutta---Return to Rangoon---Dr. Price joins the Mission---Mrs. Judson sails for America, - - - = w .

CHAPTER XIII. ---Mrs. Judson’s Visit to America--- ; Mr. Wade joins the Mission---Sail for Calcutta,

“cuarrer XIV.---Messrs. Judson and Price visit Ava--- 4 Mrs. Judson and Mr. and Mrs. Wade arrive at 4 Rangoon, - - - - - ees XV----Mr. and Mrs. Judson, Visit Ava~- if War with the British, - -

CHAPTER XVI.---Account of the Scenes at Ava during . the War, - - - * ai 4 A

CHAPTER XVII.---Narrative continued---Removal of the Prisoners to Oang-penla- Mra: Judson follows them, - 2 = m4 z 4 c

| CHAPTER XVIII. meitemoval to " aap Se Jud- ; son’s Death, - = a ie

‘CHAPTER XIX.—Progress of the Mission after Mrs.. Judson’s Death—Mr. maces sau ses Mission—Dr. Price’s Death, - -

| CHAPTER XX tid stead and. Eres piste ne te

; Mission,

CHAPTER XXI. —Concluding Remarks-—Mi rs. J udson' s H Address to American Females,

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Biography. The life and the death of many, both :

MEMOIR. x

CHAPTER I.

. Mrs. Judson’s Birth, Education, and Conversion, ee ot. er la

‘7 am a man, and feela concern in everything — that relates to mankind,” was the generous sentiment of a Roman poet,* which touched a kindred chord, even in the bosoms of his iron hearted countrymen. It is this universal sympathy which has always given ~ a charm to Biography. The earliest human compo- — sitions were narratives of the exploits and adventures _ of distinguished individuals. History, which has. — ro the greater part of its usefulness and interest, to its sketches of individual character, and its details: ‘of 2 private conduct. ‘The inspired volume itself’ has this additional evidence of its origin from Him who knows © what is in man, that a large portion of it consists of of the enemies and of the friends of God, are here — recorded, to teach mankind, in the most emphatic — manner, ‘the happiness which springs from piety, and the folly of those who know not God, and obey not the Gospel. rave +

*Terence. The well known words, ‘‘ Homo sum, Fr

| po a me alienum puto,” were received with loud plaudits by .

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It is remarkable, too, that Jehovah has thought proper to mention, in his word, with honorable commendation, many ‘holy women,”? whose lives displayed the-excellence of religion, and whose zeal in duty, firmness in suffering, and intrepidity in danger, », entitle them to rank among the noble band, of whom » the world was not worthy. The Bible, though writ- + ten ina part of the earth where the female charac- »ter is undervalued, is full of testimony to the moral “and intellectual worth of woman. It is no small evidence of its divine origin, that it thus rises above ~ aprejudice which seems to be universal, except where __ the Bible has dispelled it. Christianity alone teaches ' _ the true rank of women; and secures to the loveliest , and best portion of our race, the respect and influence ~ which belong to them. / But no precedent nor argument is needed to justify _ the publication of a Memoir of Mrs. Judson. ‘Those ’ wha. have acquired any knowledge of her, are, it is. _ believed, desirous to know more; and all the friends te of Missions must wish to trace the progress of a life _ which has been so closely connected with the history of the Burman Mission.

Mrs. Ann H. Jupson was the daughter of Mr. John and Mrs. Rebecca Hasseltine. She was born ~ December 22, 1789, at Bradford, (Massachusetts, ) where her venerable parents yet reside. It has been said, that the character of men is _ formed by the education which they receive; the - companions among whom they are placed ; the pursuits to which they are led by inclination or necessity ; and the general circumstances of the situation into _ which accident or choice may have guided them. This opinion, though doubtless it derives some ap papoity. from the undeniable effects of education, of example, and of the numberless other influences - which affect the minds and the hearts of men, is yet untrue, in regard both to the intellectual and moral _ character. Neither the reason nor the affections are

80 Obsequious to the power of external circumstances, as readily to take any new shape and direction. _ There exist, without doubt, in the original structure of every mind, the distinctive elements of the future character. Favorable opportunities may be needed, to develope this character, but they cannot alone create it. The ‘village Hampden,” or the ‘mute, inglorious Milton,’”? may exist In many a hamlet ; and the call of an oppressed country, or the inspirations of learning, might arouse and summon them forth to action, but could not bestow the noble patriotism of the one, nor the genius of the other. It is for this reason, that men feel a curiosity to learn something of the early life of individuals, distinguished either by uncommon qualities, or by remarkable actions. It seems to be thought, that such individuals must have exhibited, in childhood, some of the traits which marked their mature years. It ‘gives no surprise to the admirers of Pope, to learn that he “lisped in numbers ;” and those who were charmed and moved. by the eloquence of Massillon, or Whitefield, would readily believe, that the former was accustomed, while a boy, to repeat to his school- _ fellows the sermons which he had heard ; and that the latter composed discourses while he served, at an early age, as a waiter at an inn. ae The lamented individual, a sketch of whose life is attempted in the following pages, was known, to the public, almost wholly as a Missionary. But every one, who feels a concern to know what she did and suffered, in the performance of her office, will be _ desirous to learn some facts relating to her early life, and some details of her personal history. These will naturally be expected to shed light on her public character, and to strengthen the interest with which her eventful course will be followed. - It is a cause of regret, that the means of gratifying this natural curiosity are so few and scanty. The reasons have already been explained,why no more of - the productions of her pen have been preserved ; and.

a.

the reader-may easily imagine the difficulty of gathering the fugitive recollections which yet linger in the memory of her friends. From this source, however, a few facts have been collected.

In her earliest years, she was distinguished by activity of mind, extreme gayety, a strong relish for social amusements, and unusually ardent feelings. She possessed that spirit of enterprise, that fertility in devising plans for the attainment of her wishes, and that indefatigable perseverance in the pursuit of her purposes, of which her subsequent life furnished so many examples, and created so frequent occasions. Her restless spirit, while a child, was often restrained by her mother; and the salutary prohibitions which

_ this excellent parent was sometimes forced to impose, occasioned so much grief, that Mrs. Hasseltine once said to her, “I hope, my daughter, you will one day be satisfied with rambling.”

An. eager thirst for knowledge is commonly the attendant, and often the parent, of a restless, enterprising disposition. It was so in the case of Mrs.

Judson. She loved learning, and a book could allure

_ «her from her favorite walks, and from the gayest so- -

_-@ial.circle. The desire for knowledge is often found

‘in connexion. with moderate intellectual faculties; and in such cases, with favorable opportunities, the individual may make a respectable proficiency in learning. But this desire is almost invariably an attribute of eminent mental powers : and the person thus happily endowed, needs nothing but industry and adequate means, to ensure the attainment of the highest. degree of literary excellence.

_ Mrs. Judson’s mind was of a superior order. It — was distinguished by strength, activity, and clearness, She has, indeed, left no memorials, which can be pro-

_ duced, as fair specimens of her talents and literary acquirements. She wrote much, but her writings have perished, except letters and accounts of missionary proceedings, written without any design to exhibit her abilities, or display her learning. But no

‘one can review her life, and read. what she has written and published, without feeling that her mind possessed unusual vigor and cultivation. he was educated at the Academy in Bradford, a seminary which has become hallowed by her memory, and by that of Mrs. Newell, the proto-martyr of the American Missions. Here she pursued her studies with much success. Her perceptions were rapid, her » memory retentive, and her perseverance indefatigable. ‘Here she laid the foundations of her knowledge, and. here her intellect was stimulated, disciplined and directed. Her preceptors and associates ever regarded -her with respect and esteem ; and considered her ardent temperament, her decision and perseverance, and her strength of mind, as ominous of some uncommon destiny.

Her religious character, however, is of the most importance, in itself, and in connexion with her future life. The readers of this Memoir will feel the deepest concern, to trace the rise and progress of that spiritual renovation, and that divine teaching, which made her a disciple of the Saviour, and prepared her for her labors in his service.

, Of this momentous change, the following account,

written by herself, has happily been rescued from the

fate which befell the greater part of ‘her~ private ~ journals :—

‘«‘ During the first sixteen years of my life, I very seldom felt any serious impressions, which I think were produced by the Holy Spirit. I was early | taught by my mother (though she was then ignorant of the nature of true religion) the importance of abstaining from those vices, to which children are liable—as telling falsehoods, disobeying my parents, taking what was not my own, &c. “She also taught me, that if I were a good child, I should, at death, escape that dreadful hell, the thought of which sometimes filled me with alarm and terror. I, therefore, made it a matter of conscience to avoid the abovementioned sins, to say my prayers night and morning, and to abstain from my usual play on the Sabbath, not doubting, but that such a course of conduct would ensure my salvation.

** At the age of twelve or thirteen, I attended the academy at Bradford, where I was exposed to many more temptations than before, and found it much more difficult to pursue my pharisaical method. [now began to attend balls, and parties of pleasure, and found my mind completely occupied with what I daily heard were “ innocent amusements.” Myeonscience reproved me, not for engaging in these amusements, but for neglecting to say my prayers, and read my Bible, on returning from them; but I finally puta

~ stop to its remonstrances, by thinking, that, as I was old enough to attend balls, I was surely too old to say prayers. Thus were my fears quieted; and for two or three years, I scarcely felt an anxious thought relative to the salvation of my soul, though I was rapidly verging towards eternal ruin. My disposition was

_ gay in the extreme; my situation was such as afforded me opportunities for indulging it to the utmost ; I was surrounded with associates, wild and volatile like myself, and often thought myself one of the happiest creatures on earth. x

“The first circumstance, which in any measure awakened me from this sleep of death, was the following.. One Sabbath morning, having prepared myself to attend public worship, just as I was leaving my toilet,‘I accidentally took up Hannah More’s Strictures on Female,Education ; and the first words that caught my eye were, She that liveth in pleasure, is dead while she liveth. 'They were written in italics, with marks of admiration; and they struck me to

.the heart. I stood for a few moments, amazed at the.

incident, and half inclined to think, that some invisi-

., ble agency had directed my eye to those words. At first, I thought I would live a different life, and be more serious and sedate ; but at last I thought, that the words were not so applicable to me, as I first’

imagined, and resolved to think no more of them.

In the course of a few months (at the age of fifteen,) I met with Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, ‘ Tread it as a Sabbath book, and was much interested

in the story. I finished the book on a Sabbath, and it left this impression on my mind—that Christian, because he adhered to the narrow path, was carried safely through all his trials, and at last admitted into heaven. I resolved, from that moment, to begin a religious life; and in order to keep my resolutions, I went to my chamber and prayed for divine assistance. When I had done, I felt pleased with myself, and thought I was in a fair way for heaven. But I was perplexed to know what it was to live a religious life, and again had recourse to my system of works. The first step, that appeared necessary for me to take, was, to refrain from attending parties of pleasure, and be reserved and serious in the presence of the other scholars. Accordingly, on Monday morning, I went to school, with a determination to keep my resolution, and confident that I should. I had not been long in school, before one of the young ladies, an intimate friend of mine, came with a very animated countenance, and told me that Miss in a neighbouring town, was to have a splendid party on new year’s day, and that she and I were included in the party selected. I coolly replied, that I should not go, though I did receive an invitation. She seemed surprised, and asked me what was the matter. I replied, that I should never again attend such a arty. I continued of the same opinion during the ~ ay, and felt much pleased with such a good op- __ portunity of trying myself. Monday evening, the — daughters of sent in to invite me and my sisters - to spend the evening with them, and make a family visit. I hesitated a little, but considering that it was to be a family party merely, I thought I could go without breaking my resolutions. Accordingly I went, and found that two or three other families of oung ladies had been invited. Dancing was soon introduced ; my religious plans were forgotten ; I joini ed with the rest—was one of the gayest of the gay— and thought no more of the new life I had just beqa. On my return home, I found an invitation rom Miss in waiting, and accepted it at once. My conscience let me pass quietly through the amusements of that evening also; but when I retired to my chamber, on my return, it accused me of breaking my most solemn resolutions. I thought I should never dare to make others, for I clearly saw, that I was unable to keep them.

‘“From December, 1805, to April, 1806, I scarcely spent a rational hour. My studies were slightly attended to, and my time was mostly occupied in preparing my dress, and in contriving amusements for the evening, which portion of my time was wholly spent in vanity and trifling. I so far surpassed

‘my friends in gayety and mirthy that some of them were apprehensive that I had but a short time tocontinue in my career of folly, and should be suddennA cut off. Thus passed the last winter of my gay life. - . *‘In the spring of 1806, there appeared a little attention to religion, in the upper parish of Bradford.

Religious conferences had been appointed during the winter, and I now began to attend them regularly.

T often used to weep, when hearing the minister and others, press the importance of improving the present favorable season, to obtain an interest in Christ, lest we should have to say, The harvest is past, the summer ts ended, and we are not saved. I thought I should be one of that number; for though I now deeply felt the importance of being strictly religious, it appeared to me impossible I could be so, while in the midst of my gay associates. I generally sought some retired corner of the room, in which the meetings were held, lest others should observe the emotions I could not restrain ; but frequently after being much affected through the evening, I would return home, in company with some of my light companions, and assume an air of gayety very foreign to my heart. The Spirit of God was now evidently operating on my mind; I lost all relish for amusements ; felt melancholy and dejected; and the solemn truth, that I must obtain a new heart, or perish forever, lay | with weight on my mind. My preceptor was a pious man, and used frequently to make serious remarks in the family. One Sabbath evening, speaking of the operations of the Holy Spirit on the hearts of sinners, a subject with which I had been hitherto unacquainted, he observed, that. when under these operations, Satan frequently tempted us to conceal our feelings from others, lest our conviction should increase. Icould hear him say no more ; but rose from my seat, and went into the garden, that I _ might weep in secret over my deplorable state. I felt, that I was led captive by Satan at his will, and that he had entire control over me. And notwithstanding I knew this to be my situation, I thought [ would not have any of my acquaintance know that I was under serious impressions, for the whole world. The ensuing week, I had engaged to be one of a party to visit a young lady in a neighbouring town, who had formerly attended the academy. The state of my mind was such that I earnestly longed to be - free from this engagement, but knew not how to gain my end, without telling the real reason. This I could not persuade myself todo; but concluded on the morning of the appointed day, to absent myself from my father’s home, and visit an aunt, who lived at some distance, and who was, I had heard, under serious impressions. I went accordingly, and found my aunt éngaged in reading a religious magazine.. I was determined she should not know the state of my mind, though I secretly hoped, that she would tell me something of hers. I had not been with her long, before she asked me to read to her. I began, but - could not govern my feelings, and burst into tears. She kindly begged to know what thus affected me. I then, for the first time in my life, communicated ‘feelings which I had determined should be known to . 2

18 ~ MEMOIR OF MRS. JUDSON. ite none but myself. She urged the importance of my cherishing those feelings, and of ne myself entirely to seeking an interest in Christ, before 1t should be forever too late. She told me, that if I trified with _ impressions which were evidently made by the, Holy Spirit, I should be left to hardness of heart, and ‘blindness of mind. Her words penetrated my heart, and I felt’resolved to give up everything, and seek to be reconciled to God. That fear, which 1 had ever felt, that others would know that I was serious, now vanished away, and I was willing that the whole universe should know, that I felt myself to be a lost and perishing sinner. I returned home, with a bursting heart, fearing that I should lose my impressions, when associated with the other scholars, and convinced, that if I did, my soul was lost. ‘ As I entered my father’s house, I perceived a large party of the «scholars assembled to spend the evening. It will be the height of rudeness, thought I, to leave the com- — ' pany; but my second thought was, if I lose my soul, [ lose my all.. I spoke to One or two, passed through the room, and went to my chamber, where I spent. the evening, full of anxiety and distress, I felt that _* if 1 died in that situation I must perish; but how to extricate myself I knew not. I had been. unaccustomed to discriminating preaching ; I had not been in the habit of reading religious books; I could not understand the Bible; and felt myself as perfectly ignorant of the nature of true religion as the very heathen. In this extremity, the next mornmg, I ventured: to _ask the preceptor what I should do. He told me to . pray for mercy, and submit myself to God. He also - put into my hands some religious magazines, in which I read the conviction and conversion of some, who, f ‘perceived, had once felt as I now felt. Ishut myself _- up in my chamber, denied myself every innocent gratification; such as eating fruit and other things, not Wee : : t absolutely necesSary to support life, and spent my days _ in reading and crying for mercy. é * But I had seen, as yet, very little of the awful

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: ; - wickedness of my heart. I knew not yet the force of that passage, The carnal mind is ennuity against God. I thought myself very penitent, and almost prepared, | by voluntary abstinence, to receive the divine favor. After spending two or three weeks in this manner, without obtaining the least comfort, my heart began to rise in rebellion against God. I thought it unjust in him, not to notice my prayers and my repentance. I could not endure the thought, that he wasa sovereign God, and had a right to call one and leave another to perish. So far from being merciful in calling some, I thought it cruel in him to send any of his - creatures to hell for their disobedience. But my chief distress was occasioned by a view of his perfect purity and holiness. My heart was filled with aversion and hatred towards a holy God ; and I felt, that if admitted into heaven, with the feelings I then had, I should be

-as miserable as I could be in hell. In this state, I longed for annihilation ; and if I could have destroyed the existence of my soul, with as much ease as that of my body, I should quickly have doneit. But that glorious Being, who is kinder to his creatures, than they are to themselves, did not leave me to remain jong in this distressing state. I began to discover a — beauty in the way of salvation by Christ. He appear- — ed to 8: just such a_ Saviour as I needed. Isaw how - God could be just, in saving sinners through him. I — committed my soul into his hands, and besought him to do with me what seemed good in his sight. When | I was thus enabled to commit myself into the hands of Christ, my mind was relieved from that distressing

ght which had borne it down for so long a time. ~ I did not think that I had obtained the néw heart, which I had been seeking, but felt happy in contem- — plating the character of Christ, and particularly that disposition, which led him to sufier so much, for the sake of doing the will and promoting the glory of his heavenly Father. A few days after this, as I was reading Bellamy’s True Religion, I obtained a new view of the character of God. His justice, displayed in condemning the finally impenitent, which I had before viewed as cruel, now appeared fo be an expression of hatred to sin, and regard to the good of beings in general. A view of his purity and holiness filled my soul with wonder and admiration. I felt a disposition to commit myself unreservedly into his hands, and leave it with him to save me or cast me off; for I felt I could not be unhappy, while allowed the privilege of contemplating and loving so glorious a Being.

I now began to hope, that I had passed from death unto life. When I examined myself, I was constrained to own, that I had feelings and dispositions, to-+

‘which I was formerly an utter stranger. I had sweet communion with the blessed’ God, from day to day; my heart was drawn out in love to Christians of whatever denomination; the sacred Scriptures were sweet to my taste; and such was my thirst for religious knowledge, that I frequently spent a great part of the night in reading religious books. O how

_ different were my views of myself and of God, from mM A what they were, when I first began to inquire what I should do to be saved. I felt myself to be a poor lost sinner, destitute of everything to recommend myself to the divine favor: that I was, by nature, inclined to every evil way; and that it: had been the mere sovereign, restraining mercy of God, not my own goodness, which had kept me from committing ,

_ the most flagrant crimes. This view of myself humbled me in the dust, melted me into sorrow and contrition for my sins, induced me to lay my soul at the feet of Christ, and plead his merits alone, as

< ground of my acceptance. I felt that if Christ had not died, to make an atonement for sin, I could not ask God to dishonor his holy government so far as to save so polluted a creature, and that should he even now condemn me to suffer eternal punishment, it . more be so just that my mouth would be stopped, an nd all holy beings in the universe would acquiesce in the sentence, and praise him. as a just and righteous God. My chief happiness now consisted in

- a1 ete ser the moral perfections of the glorio God. I[ longed to have all intelligent creatures love him; and felt, that even fallen spirits could never be released from their obligations to love a Being possessed of such glorious perfections. I felt happy in the consideration, that so benevolent a Being governed the world, and ordered every passing event. ’ I lost all disposition to murmur at any providence, assured that such a Being could not err in any dispensation. Sin, in myself and others, appeared as that abominable thing, which a holy God hates—and I earnestly strove to avoid sinning, not merely because I was afraid of hell, but because I feared to displease God, and:grieve his Holy Spirit. I attended my studies in school, with far different feelings and different motives, from what I had ever done before. I felt my obligation to improve all I had to the glory of God; and since he in his providence had favored me with advantages for improving my mind, I felt that I should be like the slothful servant, if I neglected them. I, therefore, diligently employed all my hours in school, in acquiring useful knowledge, and spent my evenings and part of the night in © spiritual enjoyments. : 4 ** While thus recounting the mercies of God to my soul, I am particularly affected by two considerations 5 the richness of that grace, which called. and sipped. me in my dangerous course, and the ungrateful returns I make for so distinguished a blessing. I am prone to forget the voice which called me out of darkness into light, and the hand which drew me from the horrible pit and the miry clay. When I first discerned my Deliverer, my grateful heart of- | fered him the services of a whole life, and resolved ~ to acknowledge no other master. But such is the force of my native depravity, that I find myself prone _ to forsake him, grieve away his influence from my heart, and walk in the dark and dreary path of the backslider. I despair of making great attaimments in the divine life, and look forward to death only, tg