Daughters of the Cross: or Woman's Mission

by Daniel C. Eddy

VII.

SARAH D. COMSTOCK, OF BURMAH.

The Burman empire has witnessed the death scene of some of the most illustrious women who have ever lived. It is the graveyard in which their bodies have been laid to rest after the spirits have departed. It will continue to be a spot of melancholy interest as long as the ashes of departed saints are deemed of value by the Christian world; and those graves will remain the silent pledges that Burmah will never be abandoned, as a field of missionary exertion, until missionary exertion shall be no longer necessary. The soil in which such choice spirits find rest, the groves in which they seek shelter, the flower which blossoms, and the tree which waves its branches over them, are all sacred in the estimation of those who love God and delight in the glory of his kingdom. Senseless as they are, they assist in forming a shelter for honored dust, over which monuments of marble, with letters of gold and silver, are not worthy to rise. When Mrs. Comstock died another name was added to the glorious catalogue of the fallen—not fallen, but ascended. Another grave was made, from which, on the morning of the resurrection, will come forth a glorified one, to shine in the crown of the Savior forever.

Sarah Davis Comstock was a native of Brookline, Massachusetts. She was the daughter of Robert S. Davis, of the Baptist church in that place. In the house of her father her youthful days were passed, and there she received the mental and moral education which fitted her to labor for the souls of the heathen. In early life she found the Savior, and during her residence in America gave full evidence of a pious, self-denying spirit.

Previous to his sailing for the East, Mr. Comstock selected her for his companion, and with a martyr spirit she determined to bear the sacrifice and endure the toil. She was married to Mr. C., and in the act gave herself not only to him, but to the cause of Christ—to all the sufferings incident to a life in Burmah.

They, in company with several other elected missionaries, were publicly consecrated to the work in June, 1834, and sailed immediately for their field of labor. The services of consecration, on the 28th of June, occurred in the Baldwin Place Church, in Boston, and were of thrilling interest. Meetings had been held during the day in another church, at which Rev. Mr. Wade and the converts from heathenism, Ko Chet-thing and Moung Sway-moung, had spoken. Indeed, the whole of the previous week had been given to missionary exercises and missionary sympathy; and when the evening of the Sabbath came, the spacious church was densely crowded with an eager and holy throng. Rev. Dr. Wayland delivered an eloquent address of more than an hour's length; after which the missionaries were instructed by Dr. Bolles, secretary of the American Baptist Board, under whose patronage they were to be sent out. When their instructions had been given, Mr. Wade replied in behalf of his brethren and sisters who were so soon to leave our shores. The whole scene was one of deep interest; and many were the prayers offered to God in behalf of that company of devoted Christians. In these delightful services Dr. Comstock, father of Rev. Grover S. Comstock, one of the missionaries, and Rev. Dr. Wisner, secretary of the American Board, participated; and in the crowded house there were several missionaries connected with other denominations, who looked on with thrilling interest and satisfaction. One who witnessed the scene and heard the addresses which were given speaks of the occasion as follows:—

"At seven o'clock, notwithstanding the weather, that spacious building was crowded to excess, above and below; hundreds were standing through the whole service and hundreds retiring from the house because there was not even a place to stand. To be present among those thousands on such an occasion, once in a life, were to stamp that life with an impression to which language is not equal. What, then, must have been felt by each of these missionaries, by their relatives and friends, by those angels who rejoice over one sinner that repenteth, and whose prophetic thoughts would connect this preparatory hour with the repentance of myriads in a distant clime, and age after age?

"We did not wonder, therefore, to hear Dr. Wayland's address open with a confession of the inadequacy of speech to do justice to the thoughts and feelings that fill the soul to overflowing at such an hour. And while listening to his lofty, bold, beautiful, and we may add emphatically scriptural delineation of the objects, qualifications, and duties of a Christian missionary,—a delineation that made every other object and character than that of the Christian dwindle into utter insignificance in the comparison,—we felt as did Peter on the mount of glorious vision: 'It is good to be here.' And the thought more than once occurred to us, How would the late venerable Baldwin have enjoyed this scene!

"We were struck by the remark of Mr. Wade, that, while he regarded the prayers of Christians in this country as indispensable to the success of the mission, he could not but fear that prayers such as he had sometimes heard would avail them or their offerers little. The fervor of love, the expectancy of hope, and the persevering constancy of faith were the spiritual qualities wanted. Could they not be obtained?

"In the farewell of Ko Chet-thing and Moung Sway-moung there was a simplicity and pious warmth that went to the heart. They were grateful for the unspeakable blessings of the gospel sent to them when in darkness, and happy alike that they had been permitted of God to see the land where the seed grew; that they were now about to return to plant and rear the tree of the gospel in Burmah; and that they could hope hereafter to meet their Christian friends of America in heaven."

The closing hymn, which was sung by the choir and congregation with fine effect, was written for the occasion by one of the sweetest writers among American poets.

Native land!—in summer smiling,—
Hill and valley, grove and stream;
Home! whose nameless charms beguiling,
Peaceful nursed our infant dream;
Haunts! to which our childhood hasted,
Where the earliest wild flowers grew;
Church! where Christ's free grace we tasted,
Graved on memory's page,—Adieu!

Mother! who hast watched our pillow
In thy tender, sleepless love,
Lo, we dare the crosted billow;
Mother, put thy trust above.
Father! from thy guidance turning,
O'er the deep our way we take;
Keep the prayerful incense burning
On thine altar, for our sake.

Brothers! sisters! more than ever
Are our fond affections twined,
As that hallowed bond we sever
Which the hand of Nature joined.
But the cry of Burmah's anguish
Through our inmost hearts doth sound;
Countless souls in misery languish;
We would fly to heal their wound.

Burmah! we would soothe thy weeping;
Take us to thy sultry breast;
Where thy sainted dust is sleeping
Let us share a kindred rest.
Friends! this span of life is fleeting;
Hark! the harps of angels swell;
Think of that eternal meeting,
Where no voice shall say, Farewell!
Mrs. L. H. Sigourney.

On the morning of Wednesday, July 2, the good ship Cashmere, Captain Hallet, bore them from our shores, some of them to return no more. There were on board Mr. and Mrs. Comstock, Mr. and Mrs. Dean, Mr. and Mrs. Vinton, Mr. and Mrs. Howard, Mr. and Mrs. Wade, Mr. and Mrs. Osgood, Miss Gardener and the Eastern converts, all belonging to the Baptist denomination; together with Dr. Bradley and wife and Miss White, belonging to the stations of the A.B.C.F.M.

The morning dawned in beauty and loveliness; and, as the sun rolled up the sky, a crowd of people were seen assembling on the wharf. Soon from the deck of the vessel was heard the melodious but firm voice of Rev. Dr. Sharp, in prayer to God, pleading for those who were now to commit themselves to the perils of the deep. Hymns were sung, kind words were spoken, Christian greetings were exchanged, and farewell embraces given; and, amid sobs, and tears, and prayers, the vessel swung off from her moorings. As she floated out gently into the harbor the vast crowd on shore commenced singing the hymn of Bishop Heber,—

"From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand."

This hymn was scarcely finished, and the last echo was yet upon the air, when from the ship was heard another song. Voices which seemed divine united in another hymn, and, as holy stillness gathered over the people, they heard repeated by the departing missionaries the lines of Rev. S.F. Smith:—

"Yes, my native land, I love thee;
All thy scenes, I love them well."

Such hymns, sung under such circumstances, by such men and women, must have produced joy and rapture among the ransomed spirits on high; and doubtless Jesus, man's ascended Savior, looked down upon his followers with divine approval.

The Cashmere anchored before Amherst on the 5th of December, and the missionaries were warmly greeted by Dr. Judson and his associates. After remaining awhile at Amherst and Maulmain, Mr. Comstock and wife proceeded to the province of Arracan, which was to be the field of their labors; and on the 26th of February, 1835, it being the Sabbath, they performed their first missionary duty in Arracan. On the 4th of March they arrived at Kyouk Phyoo, from which place Mr. Comstock writes an interesting letter, giving a description of the field of labor in which he and his companion were to be engaged. The interest of this sketch will be increased by a perusal of that description in the language of the author himself:—

"As this province is a new field of labor, perhaps a short account of it will not be uninteresting. It is situated on the eastern shore of the Bay of Bengal, and extends from 15 deg. 54' to 20 deg. 51' north latitude. Its width is very variable. At the northern part of the province it is about ninety miles wide, while the width at the extreme southern point is but two or three miles. Probably the average width is something less than fifty miles. It is bounded on the north by the Province of Chittagong, on the east by the Burman empire, and on the south and west by the Bay of Bengal. An extensive range of mountains is the boundary between Arracan and Burmah, over which are several passes—one to Ava, one to Prome, another to Bassein, &c. Only the first is very much travelled. By this we are only six or eight days' journey from Ava. A good deal of this province is mountainous, and much of the rest is jungle or uncultivated land. The people live in small villages, which are scattered over the whole province. The population, according to the government census, I do not exactly know; but it must be something less than two hundred and fifty thousand. It is very difficult, however, to ascertain the population, as the people will deceive all they can, to avoid taxes, which were very oppressive under the Burman government, and are not very light now. A great deal of itinerant labor must be performed here, as the inhabitants are so scattered; and much must be done by tracts. Two or three laborers besides brother Simons and myself should enter this field as soon as may be. The province is subdivided into four subordinate jurisdictions, called districts. The northern one, Akyab, is the largest. Here is brother Fink, with his native church; and here, I believe, brother Simons intends to settle. The Ramree district is the next in size. It consists of Ramree Island, about forty miles long, and on an average about fifteen wide, extending from 18 deg. 51' to 19 deg. 24' north latitude of Cheduba Island, lying a short distance to the south-west of Ramree, which is eighteen miles long and fourteen wide, and of several smaller islands. There are in the district three hundred and seventy-four villages and about seventy thousand inhabitants. This is the field of labor I occupy. Kyouk Phyoo is on the northern point of Ramree Island; and, though not as central or as large as some other places, is, on some accounts, a very desirable station."

In his labors Mr. C. found a valuable help in Mrs. C., who with unreserved diligence devoted herself to the duties of her station in different parts of Arracan. Though not exposed to the trials and dangers which attended the efforts of the first missionaries, yet in labors abundant and faith unwavering she certainly was.

There is mentioned of her a most beautiful incident which occurred when about to part with her children, who were to visit America to commence a course of instruction not to be obtained in Burmah. When the vessel was about to sail, and Mr. Kincaid, who was to conduct them to this country, was ready to go on board, Mrs. Comstock took her two children and led them forth towards the ocean which would soon part her from them forever, and, kissing the cheek of each, committed them to the care of Him who holds the storms in his hand and controls the tempests as he will. It cost a struggle such only as a mother's heart can feel and realize; and, as she kissed them for the last time and gave them to her husband, she turned her streaming eyes to heaven and exclaimed, "O Jesus, I do this for thee!"

It was the last time. The vessel spread her canvas to the gales of heaven, and the children of the devoted woman were wafted from her, to see her face no more; and when next they meet, it will be before the great white throne, where the secrets of all hearts will be revealed, and where the Savior will place upon the head of his servant a crown of glory, and declare, in the hearing of an assembled world, "This, beloved disciple, I do for thee!"

It will be a delightful recompense for all the trials, inflictions, and sufferings of a missionary life, and will more than compensate the most self-sacrificing of all earth's children for the most toilsome labors, the most severe trials. Far happier will be he whose brow is encircled with such a crown than he who in this life is hailed as a royal emperor and led in chains of gold from throne to throne, from kingdom to kingdom.

One of our poets has thrown this beautiful incident into rhyme. One verse of his poem we repeat:—

"One burning kiss, one wild good by;
Put off, put off from shore!
In mercy to the mother fly,
And swiftly waft them from her eye,
For she can bear no more!
She knelt and cried, as o'er the sea
Faded their forms like sunset ray,
'O Savior, I do this for thee!'
And, sobbing, turned away."

The faith of Mrs. Comstock was strong. She believed that the efforts of Christian philanthropy would be attended by the desired blessing, and that Arracan would lift up its hands to God and implore the love of Jesus upon her prostrate sons. In a letter from Ramree, written only a few months before her death, she wrote as follows: "I believe these hills and vales of Arraean will yet leap at the 'sound of the church-going bell,' and the hundreds and thousands of her children will be seen coming up from every city, village, and hamlet, with united heart and voice, to the worship of the great Jehovah. It may not be in my day; but my children may see it. God grant that they may be privileged in hastening it on. We see but little fruit of our labors, i.e., so far as converts are concerned, but see the seed germinating. It is not dead—it will yet spring up; yes, this very seed we are now sowing will spring up and yield a glorious harvest."

With this confident expectation she labored on until the hand of death came to close her labors and lead her away to her infinite reward. In whatever part of Arracan she was, she was zealous to do the will of her Master, and seemed governed by a firm determination to glory in nothing but the cross of Jesus. Whether at Kyouk Phyoo, at Akyab, or at Ramree, or any of the other spots of toil and denial, she was faithful to the great work assigned her. She never lost sight of the object to accomplish which she had been sent out to a heathen land.

She departed this life on the 28th of April, 1843. Her disease was the malignant dysentery, which is peculiar to the climate. Her two children, lovely little boys, followed her to the grave; and in three months they were laid to rest by her side. About two hundred inhabitants of the Ramree district attended her funeral; and when the disconsolate husband had gone to his deserted home they remained and poured forth their sorrow over the new-made grave. Her death exerted a deep and powerful influence on the minds of the natives; and some were led to prepare to meet God by seeking the mercy of his Son.

The touching account of the death of his companion we give in Mr. C.'s own words: "For several months past Mrs. Comstock had been blessed with unusually good health; and we had repeatedly spoken with gratitude of the goodness of God in granting us so long an exemption from sickness. We hoped, too, that we should be permitted to labor more vigorously and uninterruptedly for the good of the heathen than we had been able to do. She had just completed a Book for Mothers, which, I think, was greatly needed, and will, I trust, prove very useful. She was contemplating a work for children, and had begun to inquire for scholars to attend during the rains, just at hand. We had, too, already decided to spend a month or two early in the cold season at Cheduba, and then take a tour of a month to Ava and the villages on the way thither. Our prospects for the future appeared to be unusually encouraging; and we fondly hoped that we should be permitted to see many turning unto the Lord in Arracan. We did not, however, forget that death might destroy all our plans, and often conversed together freely on the probability that one of us might be called speedily into eternity. She had no fear of death nor any anxiety as to the time or manner of her departure, but only spoke of it as affecting our future course.

"She was taken ill on Saturday, April 22. Our English doctor was then absent from Ramree; but, had he been here, we should not, probably, have thought it necessary to call him, as Mrs. C. had prescribed for many similar cases with entire success. On Monday I saw that her disease was very severe and obstinate, and asked her if I had not better call the Mussulman doctor who is left in charge here when the English one is absent. He came Tuesday morning. He prescribed for her, but wished the English doctor sent for; and I despatched a messenger for him. He arrived early on Wednesday morning, and faithfully and assiduously tried every remedy to arrest the disease, but in vain. On Friday evening, the 28th, at eight o'clock, she very suddenly expired. Occasionally there were slight symptoms of amendment; and I fondly hoped, to the very last, that she might recover. A minute or two before her death she took some nourishment, and remarked that she thought she should soon regain her strength. I trusted that it might be so, and stepped on to the veranda to say to the native Christians that there was still a little reason to hope. I heard her speak, and hastened to her just in time to see her sink back upon her pillow, and. without a struggle or even a gasp, breathe her last.

"The body was immediately surrounded by weeping and wailing heathen women, who felt that they had lost a friend. Such indeed was the case; for Mrs. C. truly pitied and loved the women of Arracan, and was never happier than when telling them of the Savior. On the day after her death, as the news spread in the town, men, women, and children (more of the last two) began to crowd to my house; and it was estimated that about two thousand were here during the day. Their expressions of attachment to my dear wife and of sorrow for her loss were deeply affecting. 'How kindly she always spoke to me when she met me!' 'She always gave us medicine when we were sick.' 'She was truly a good woman.' 'She came here to die, far from her native land, with no mother or sister near her, because she pitied us.' Expressions similar to these were made and listened to with many tears. I remarked once, 'What crowds are pressing to the house! Are all from the town?' A bystander replied, 'Yes; as the news spreads all will be here, for she was greatly beloved.' Another added, 'Many tears will be shed in Ramree to-day.'

"I was surprised and deeply affected to witness such manifestations of feeling among the heathen towards a Christian missionary. They more firmly convinced me that she had not lived in vain, but had exerted an extensive and salutary influence, which, I doubt not, will be powerfully felt in preparing the way of the Lord here. Her labors, too, I trust, will prove the means of salvation to many souls. She was a most conscientious and laborious missionary. The rains before last she had a school, to which she devoted a good deal of time; translated the Scripture Catechism, administered medicine to the sick, conversed with the women who were daily calling at the house, and taught her own children, besides attending to household duties. She was from daylight till nine o'clock at evening constantly engrossed with labors and cares. As far as her own feelings were concerned, she would have delighted uniformly to be as active and busy as she then was.

"She was not, however, always called to such constant and severe labor, but uniformly did what she could. Whenever women came to the house she felt it her duty to leave all and go and tell them of the Savior; and I recollect that in a few instances, when she was so engaged that she could not at once go to them, and they left without hearing of Christ, she was very much grieved on account of it. If I was not at hand, she conversed with the men, too. Towards evening, when she could be out, she might often be found seated on a rice mortar, with half a dozen women around her, in the adjoining villages. Attention to the sick, also, demanded a good deal of her time and thought. I have known her to give medicine to twenty applicants in a day. She was always anxious to accompany me in my tours to the villages during the cold season; but circumstances usually prevented it. She would have prepared more works for the press but for a feeling of extreme self-depreciation, which led her to think that she was not competent to prepare a book fit to be printed. The Scripture Catechism and Mother's Book are both, I think, calculated to do much good. She not only labored faithfully, but prayed fervently, and with tears, for the salvation of the heathen. She has, however, entered into her rest; her labors and prayers have ceased; and I am left alone to train my children up for God and to do what I can to win the heathen to Christ. The Lord has thus decided; and he does all things well. I am enabled to say, in sincerity I trust, 'Thy will be done.' I have lost a most affectionate and amiable wife, my children have lost a kind and faithful mother, and a prayerful and diligent laborer is lost to the cause of missions; but I will not repine or murmur. The Lord is as rich in mercy as he is infinite in wisdom; and let him do what seemeth good in his sight. I need not ask the sympathy and prayers for the members of the Board and other friends, for I feel assured that I shall have them. Pray, not only that my affliction may be greatly sanctified to my spiritual good and to the good of other friends and other missionaries, but also that the death of my dear wife may be made the means of life to many souls in Arracan. Several appear tender, and seem to recall the instructions she has given them."

Mr. Comstock did not long survive her. In about one year from the time his wife was taken from her toils his earthly joys and sorrows closed, and he went up on high. Borne down by anxiety, care, and affliction, he died April 24, 1844. He was the third son of Rev. Oliver C. Comstock, of Michigan. He graduated at Hamilton Institution in 1827. For a while he studied and practised law in the city of Rochester, where he was becoming very successful as a counsellor. But God had another station for him to occupy—a wide field of usefulness for him to fill. In the winter of 1831 he was led to view himself as a sinner and embrace Jesus as his Savior. He became a member of the First Baptist Church, and was baptized by his venerated father. Soon he became convinced that the Christian ministry demanded his exertions and powers. He soon removed to Hamilton and entered the theological class, and at once commenced preparing himself for labors in Burmah, and soon went forth to do the will of God in wild and uncultivated regions. But his afflictions were many—his toils great—his years few. He died ere the desire of his heart had been realized. He ascended to heaven ere the field given him to cultivate was seen blossoming as the rose.

Called by God, he left the path to earthly honor and distinction and entered the scorned and despised service of the crucified One, and in that service found an early grave. He saw his beloved companion go down to the tomb; he saw two darling babes laid beside her; and, panting for the loved ones, he himself went down into the sepulchre.

Here ends the record of a family sacrificed on the altar of Christian benevolence; a record written with tears of sorrow and anguish, yet gleaming with signs of glory; a record which even the cold cynic might respect, and the stoic read with emotions of wonder and admiration.

"Patriots have toiled, and in their country's cause
Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve,
Receive proud recompense. We give in charge
Their names to the sweet lyre. The Historic Muse,
Proud of the treasure, marches with it down
To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn,
Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass
To guard them and immortalize her trust.
But fairer wreaths are due, though never paid,
To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth,
Have fallen in her defence."