A POOR place it was in which Mr. and Mrs. Judson began housekeeping. They had few, if any, of the comforts of an English or American home. Still tall palm-trees stood near their humble dwelling, and melons and cucumbers might, they knew, be raised with but little care or trouble in their garden. It must have seemed a long time, much longer perhaps than it really was, to both husband and wife since they said a tearful good-bye to their loved ones and sailed for that far-off land. The days had been so eventful, and often such trying ones, still they had learned some very precious and never-to-be-forgotten lessons of the love and care of their great Good Shepherd, and we may be sure that as they knelt together in their new home, they not only prayed that their coming to Burmah might be the means of winning many souls for Christ, but gave thanks to the Lord for every step of the way He had thus far led them.
Mr. Judson engaged as teacher a native Burman—whom he describes in a letter home, as "a grave but pleasant-looking man, about sixty years of age, who wore a many-colored turban, and always left his shoes or sandals in the outer court before entering the house"—and set to work to learn the language.
Some of my young friends are learning French or German, and know quite well that verbs are not always easy to remember; and that it needs a good deal of care and painstaking before exercises can be written correctly.
But I want you to think for a moment how much more difficult your lesson would be if you were unable to get any proper books. Not a single printed book was to be had in Burmese, and Mr. and Mrs. Judson soon found, if they wished to make any real progress in the language, they must be content to study their lessons from palm-leaves, such as we often see used as fans or stove-ornaments, on which their teacher had written a number of dots and circles, which were, he told them, the letters of the Burmese alphabet.
They did not learn very quickly; yet, through the blessing of the Lord on steady, patient work, they were after a few months able to read and write a little Burmese, also to converse with the natives who often paid them visits.
Letters written about this time, tell how deeply these lonely workers for Christ often longed to see and speak with those who loved their precious Savior. Daily they read their Bibles and prayed together. Very often, too, they used to tell their servants about the one true God and His love in the gift of His Son. But very often they were met by some such answer as, "Your religion is very good for you; but ours is very good for us." Sometimes the teacher would ask Mr. Judson a question; but when an answer was given, he would shake his head and say, with a sad look, "I cannot understand what you say about a God who is eternal, without beginning or end.”
Mr. Judson had made good progress in the language, when a long and severe illness laid him aside for many weeks. Sometimes he thought his work on earth was almost done, and the Lord about to take him to the rest and joy of His own presence. Still there seemed one little thing he could perhaps do for his beloved Burmah. He might help whoever should take his place to learn Burmese, by writing down all he had learned or could remember in the form of a short grammar and easy reading book.
"There would be no need," so he told his wife, with an attempt at a smile that must have brought tears to her eyes, "for the next laborers in that lonely mission field to pore, as they had often done, with tired eyes and many a bad headache, over lessons written on leaves of trees.”
So, page by page, a small volume, not unlike a dictionary, was written; and as the work neared its close, Mr. Judson began to gain strength, and in a few weeks was able to sit up and take notice of an infant son, born while its father lay between life and death.
What a change the presence of that baby boy seemed to make to both parents. Mrs. Judson wrote home (as she still called America): “I know, my dear mother, you long to see my little darling. I wish you were here to see him. He is such a bonny boy; though only a few weeks old, he begins to take notice and smiles at us. We pray that if his life be spared he may one day be a missionary to Burmah.”
In another letter she wrote: "Our little Roger is a great comfort to us. He is very good and gives hardly any trouble. When our work is done we carry him into the garden for air and exercise.”
For eight months this precious little one brought sunshine and gladness into their home, then after an illness lasting only a few days, and during which both father and mother watched and tended it with the most devoted love, the Lord gently took its spirit to be with Himself, and though Mr. Judson and his wife felt very sad and lonely, they were, through grace, enabled to say from their hearts, "He hath done all things well." (Mark 7:3737And were beyond measure astonished, saying, He hath done all things well: he maketh both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak. (Mark 7:37).)
Baby's funeral took place in the afternoon of the same day on which the little one died. A tiny grave was dug in a corner of the mission garden, and the simple service performed by the sorrowing father was attended by about fifty natives, who seemed really very sorry for Mr. and Mrs. Judson. It was the first time words of Christian faith and hope had ever been used at the side of an open grave in Burmah.
Ten days after the death of their little Roger, a native princess, who had often seen and noticed the child, whose fair skin and rosy cheeks made him so unlike Burman babies, paid Mrs. Judson a visit of sympathy. It was quite a state visit, as the princess was attended by her whole court, numbering about two hundred persons.
She asked Mrs. Judson why she had not sent for her to attend the funeral? Mrs. Judson replied she did not think of it in time as her sorrow was so great. The princess then tried to comfort Mrs. Judson, and listened with great attention while the weeping mother told her of the Savior who loved and blessed little children, and who had taken the soul of her darling to be with Him in the glory where He now is.
The mission-house must have seemed very silent and lonely after Roger's death, yet they worked steadily on. Mr. Judson, after much prayerful study, wrote a short tract explaining the way to salvation by faith in Christ, and began to translate some portions of the New Testament.
Very glad they must have been to welcome as a beloved brother and fellow worker a young missionary from America, who took with him not only a supply of books for the mission, but also what Mr. Judson had long wanted—a printing press and several sets of type.
The press was quickly set up, and as the new corner knew how to use it, it was soon at work. One thing gave Mr. Judson great encouragement. Educated Burmans often called at the mission house, and after conversation would ask, "Cannot you give us your holy books, or at least some part of them, so that we may read them for ourselves?" We may be sure that very real thanksgiving went up to God when even a few chapters from one of the gospels were ready, and as the precious portions were placed in the hands of some who had long waited for them, it must have been a cheer and comfort to remember the words of David: "The entrance of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding unto the simple." (Psa. 119:130130The entrance of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding unto the simple. (Psalm 119:130).)