"Aug. 15.—I have begun to study the language. Find it very hard and difficult, having none of the usual helps in acquiring a language, except a small part of a grammar, and six chapters of St. Matthew's Gospel by Mr. Carey, now at Ava."
"Aug. 28.—Have been writing letters this week to my dear friends in America. Found that a recollection of former enjoyments in my own native country, made my situation here appear less tolerable. The thought that I had parents, sisters, and beloved friends still in existence, and at such a distance that it was impossible to obtain one look or exchange a word, was truly painful. While they are still in possession of the comforts I once enjoyed, I am an exile from my country and my father's house, deprived of all society and every friend but one, and with scarcely the necessaries of life. These privations would not be endured with patience in any other cause but that in which we are engaged. But since it is thy cause, blessed Jesus, we rejoice that thou didst give us so many enjoyments to sacrifice, and madest it so plainly our duty to forsake all in order to bring thy truth to the benighted heathen. We would not resign our work, but live contented with our lot, and live to Thee."
"Sept. 5.—Yes, I do feel thankful that God has brought me to this heathen land, and placed me in a situation peculiarly calculated to make me feel my dependence on him and my constant need of the influences of the Holy Spirit. I enjoy more in reading the Scriptures, and in secret prayer than for years before; and the prosperity of this mission, and the conversion of this people, lie with weight on my mind, and draw forth my heart in constant intercession. And I do confidently believe that God will visit this land with Gospel light, that these idol temples will be demolished, and temples for the worship of the living God be erected in their stead."
Let us here pause for a moment and contemplate the picture brought by these words before our imagination. Let us survey the scene in which the lonely missionary penned this prediction. A vast country not waste and uninhabited, but enriched by the partial sun with every natural gift to cheer the sense and gratify the taste of man; swarming with human beings endowed with capacities for advancement in knowledge, and virtue, and temporal enjoyment, as well as for immortal happiness; yet who, having said in their heart there is no God 'that minds the affairs of men,' have built up for themselves a fabric of absurd superstitions, and unmeaning rites, and senseless formalities, to which they cling with a stubbornness that nothing but the power of God can subdue; on such a shore are cast by the providence of God two 'pilgrim strangers,' not endowed with apostolic gifts; not able to control disease, or raise the dead, or even to speak in a foreign tongue without long and patient and assiduous study to acquire it; and yet with a simple and sublime faith in the clear and sure word of their master, "Go—preach my Gospel—lo, I am with you," these pilgrim strangers can confidently believe that God will visit this land with gospel light, and that those gilded fanes which now glisten in the morning and evening sun, on every hill-top, will fall, and those poor idolaters will say, "What have we to do any more with idols?" "our trust is in the name of the Lord that made heaven and earth."
In one of the last paragraphs of her private journal which has been preserved, dated Oct. 8th of the same year, she says: "To-day I have been into the town, and I was surprised at the multitude of people with which the streets are filled. Their countenances are intelligent; and they appear to be capable under the influence of the Gospel, of becoming a valuable and respectable people. But at present their situation is truly deplorable, for they are given to every sin. Lying is so universal among them that they say, 'we cannot live without telling lies.' They believe the most absurd notions imaginable. My teacher told me the other day, that when he died he would go to my country; I shook my head, and told him he would not; but he laughed, and said he would. I did not understand the language sufficiently to tell him where he would go, or how he could be saved. Oh thou Light of the world, dissipate the thick darkness that covers Burmah. Display thy grace and power among the Burmans—subdue them to thyself, and make them thy chosen people."
FOOTNOTES:
[2] The war had almost produced a famine.