BUT what was Mr. Judson doing all day long, while his wife was so busy in her girls' school? Sometimes he wrote or translated portions of scripture into the native language; but I do not think that at the time of which I am writing the progress he made was what we should call rapid. Quite a number of Burmans were received every week at the zayat, and very often one guest would stay for many hours asking questions, or listening attentively while Mr. Judson read and explained one or more chapters from the New Testament.
Among those who came oftenest and stayed longest was a merchant, who at one time had belonged to the army. After several conversations, the teaching of the Holy Spirit showed him that as a sinner he needed a Savior, and with tear-filled eyes he said to Mr. Judson, "I, too, wish to be a disciple." The love of Christ touched him deeply. "How wonderful," he would say, "that the Son of God, who is holy, should love sinners. This is what my heart has long wanted-the gods of the Hindoos cannot love.”
And surely the Burmese convert was right: deep down in every human heart there is a desire for affection, a longing to love and be loved. Shall I tell you how, not very long ago, the life of a poor little child grew bright and glad in the sunshine of love?
A kind, Christian gentleman, who has a home for "Little Wanderers" in one of the large towns of America, got a message one day from a city magistrate, asking him if he would step round to the police court. He went at once, and the magistrate said, pointing to a tiny child not more than six years old: “I sent for you, Mr. T., to ask if you can do anything with this poor little thing. The police brought her in this morning; she was found wandering about the streets, and here she is charged with no crime but being homeless and friendless. I cannot bear to send her to prison, she is such a mite, so I sent for you to ask if you would make room for her in the home?”
"Yes, I will take her," Mr. T. said, with a smile; "and with the blessing of the Lord make a woman of her.”
He turned to look at the little girl as he spoke. She was dirty and ragged, but then Mr. T. was so used to seeing dirty ragged children that he did not think much of that. It was the sad look on the face of the child that made him so sorry for her. He thought it must have been a very long time since that pale thin face had smiled.
Mary, for I believe that was the little girl's name, was taken to the home, some good food was given her, and after having a bath, and nice clean clothes, she looked quite a different girl. Still the old sad look was on her face. The next morning she went into school with the other children. After school the teacher went into Mr. T.'s office and said, "What a strange, sad-looking child little Mary is! I tried for quite an hour this morning to get a smile from her and failed. Oh, do teach her to be happy!”
So Mr. T. called the wee stranger to him, and taking her on his knee, said in his kind pleasant way, “Mary, I want to tell you something. We had a little girl here for a whole year. Her name was Mary, and she was just about as old as you are. She used to be my little friend. She would run to get things for me, and she used to tidy up my office. Now she has gone away. Some rich people in New York have adopted her, and she lives with a kind lady and gentleman just as if she were their own child. I am very glad she has got such a happy home. But I miss her so much. Will you take her place, and be my little Mary now?”
Mary was too shy to talk, but she nodded her head and smiled.
So Mr. T. gave her a penny, and told her she might go and buy some sweets. While she was gone he tore up some old letters and threw them on the floor. When she came back he said, "Mary, just look what a litter my office is in. I want you to pick up all these papers for me. Will you put them in this basket?”
Mary set to work with a will and soon had all the scraps of paper in the basket. Under such wise, loving training she soon lost her sad look, and grew into a bright, happy little girl. She is almost grown-up now, and I hope has tasted for herself the sweetness of the only love that can really fill and satisfy the heart, "the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge." (Eph. 3:1919And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God. (Ephesians 3:19).) But we must go back to our story of missions in Burmah.
Dark clouds of trouble were gathering, and though the storm did not break till some months later, the outlook was on the whole anything but an encouraging one. But please do not begin to be sorry for Mr. and Mrs. Judson, or say what a pity it was they had gone to live in Burmah.
They had the joy of knowing that their labor had not been in vain in the Lord.
Three Burmans had confessed Christ as their own Savior, and if, at times, they seemed timid and fearful, their friends at the mission-house felt sure they were true believers, and so counted upon God to give them all the courage and grace they needed.
"What could have happened?" Mr. and Mrs. Judson asked each other one morning as they looked out from the door of the zayat. People were hurrying backwards and forwards, or talking to each other in low voices, often looking round as if to be sure no one was listening. News had reached Rangoon, but no one seemed to know for a long time what that news was.
Mr. Judson had quite a number of visitors that day. One whispered, "The king is sick," while another made signs to show that he was dying, or perhaps even dead. No Burman would dare to say openly, "The king is dead," as he knew only too well that if any of the government officers heard of it he would be punished by fines and imprisonment.
After some days a royal messenger visited Rangoon. "The king," he said, "had gone away, but his grandson, the new lord of land and water, was now their king. They were to remain quiet and obey him in all things, as they had his grandfather.”
Every one looked sorry, for the new king, though he might be obeyed from fear, was not a man likely to win the love and trust of his subjects. "He will send away all the teachers," said one, while another told Mr. Judson the new emperor had given orders that all his subjects should attend the idol temples; while a third begged him to take a journey to Ava, obtain an interview with the monarch, and try to get his permission to remain in Burmah and go on with his work.
Should he go or not? Sometimes he thought it would be the best. But he wanted to be quite sure as to the will of God about the journey, so waited. The Lord, he knew, was quite able to open a way for the gospel in Burmah, even should the king refuse to listen to the message of peace.
About the same time, a Burmese fisherman was converted and added to the little band of native Christians. There were now four Burmans who remembered the Lord's death in the breaking of bread. These converts showed a great love for prayer and reading the scriptures, often holding little meetings among themselves, while almost every day Mr. Judson was asked by one or another how soon he would be able to give them the whole Bible in their own language.
"As soon as God permit," the missionary would answer with a smile. But it was a long time before Judson had the joy of seeing even the New Testament in the hand of his beloved Burmans.