“Mr. G. now advised us to obtain a royal order protecting us personally from molestation while we should remain in the country. ‘Otherwise,’ said he, ‘as it will be notorious that you have solicited royal patronage, and been refused, you will lie at the mercy of every ill-disposed person.’
“This suggestion of Mr. G. occupied our thoughts the rest of the day. We finally concluded that, as such an order would cost several hundred ticals, we would prefer trusting in the Lord to keep us and our poor disciples.
“At night our people returned. They had found Moung Zah, and presented the petition for a passport, to which he made no other reply but ‘Come to-morrow.’
“February 4. Sent the people, early in the morning, with a handsome present to Moung Zah. They returned late at night. He accepted the present, and assured them he would do our business to-morrow.
“February 5. Sent the people as usual, our trusty Moung Nau accompanying them, with a quantity of silver. This did the business. Late in the evening I had the pleasure of taking into my hand the pointed palm-leaf. It has cost us the value of thirty dollars.
“February 6. Pushed off from the beach of O-ding-man. I could moralize half an hour on the apt resemblance, the beautiful congruity between the desolate state of our feelings and the sandy, barren surface of this miserable beach. But ‘‘tis idle all.’ Let the beach and our sorrow go together. Something better will turn up to-morrow.
“February 12. Reached Pyee, two hundred and thirty miles from Ava; our descent on the river being, of course, much more rapid than our ascent. Here, to our great surprise, we met with the teacher, Moung Shwa-gnong. He had come up from Rangoon, a few days ago, to visit an old acquaintance, who was dangerously ill; expects to return shortly; would gladly go with us, if we could wait a day or two. We stated to him all our adventures at court, the distressing result of the expedition, and the present danger of propagating or professing the religion of Christ, and wound off with the story of the iron mall. He appeared to be less affected and intimidated by the relation than we could have expected. Indeed, his language was rather too high for the occasion. I therefore told him that it was not for him that we were concerned, but for those who had become disciples of Christ. When they were accused and persecuted, they could not worship at the pagodas, or recant before the Mangen teacher. He felt the force of the reflection, and tried to explain his past conduct. ‘Say nothing,’ said I; ‘one thing you know to be true—that, when formerly accused, if you had not, in some way or other, satisfied the mind of the Mangen teacher, your life would not now be remaining in your body.’ ‘Then,’ said he, ‘if I must die, I shall die in a good cause. I know it is the cause of truth.’ He then repeated, with considerable emphasis, the most prominent points of his present faith, as follows: ‘I believe in the eternal God, in His Son Jesus Christ, in the atonement which Christ has made, and in the writings of the apostles, as the true and only word of God. Perhaps,’ continued he, ‘you may not remember that, during one of my last visits, you told me that I was trusting in my own understanding, rather than the divine word. From that time I have seen my error, and endeavored to renounce it. You explained to me also the evil of worshipping at pagodas, though I told you that my heart did not partake in the worship. Since you left Rangoon, I have not lifted up my folded hands before a pagoda. It is true, I sometimes follow the crowd, on days of worship, in order to avoid persecution; but I walk up one side of the pagoda, and walk down the other. Now, you say that I am not a disciple. What lack I yet?’ I was now satisfied that he had made a little advance since our last interview, which required a corresponding advance on my side. I replied, therefore, ‘Teacher, you may be a disciple of Christ in heart, but you are not a full disciple. You have not faith and resolution enough to keep all the commands of Christ, particularly that which requires you to be baptized, though in the face of persecution and death. Consider the words of Jesus, just before He returned to heaven, “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.”’ He received this communication in profound silence, and with that air which I have observed to come upon him when he takes a thing into serious consideration. Soon after I hinted our intention of leaving Rangoon, since the emperor had virtually prohibited the propagation of the Christian religion, and no Burman, under such circumstances, would dare to investigate, much less to embrace it. This intelligence evidently roused him, and showed us that we had more interest in his heart than we thought. ‘Say not so,’ said he; ‘there are some who will investigate, notwithstanding; and rather than have you quit Rangoon, I will go myself to the Mangen teacher, and have a public dispute. I know I can silence him. I know the truth is on my side.’ ‘Ah,’ said I, ‘you may have a tongue to silence him, but he has a pair of fetters and an iron mall to tame you. Remember that.’ This was the substance of our conversation, though much more prolix; and he left us about nine o’clock at night.
“This interview furnished matter for conversation till past midnight, and kept us awake much of the remainder of the night. Perhaps, on arriving in Rangoon, we shall find the disciples firm, and some others seriously inquiring. Perhaps we shall discover some appearances of a movement of the divine Spirit. Perhaps the Lord Jesus has a few chosen ones, whom He intends to call in, under the most unpropitious and forbidding circumstances. Perhaps he intends to show that it is not by might nor by power, but by His Spirit. In a word, perhaps in the last extremity, God will help us. Ought we, then, hastily to forsake the place? Ought we to desert those of the disciples that we can not take with us, and some others, for whom perhaps Christ died, in such an interesting crisis of their fate? Would it be rashness to endeavor to trust in God, and maintain the post, though disallowed by Government, and exposed to persecution? But again: Can we bear to see our dear disciples in prison, in fetters, under torture? Can we stand by them and encourage them to bear patiently the rage of their persecutors? Are we willing to participate with them? Though the spirit may be sometimes almost willing, is not the flesh too weak?
“Pondering on such topics as these, a little ray of hope seemed to shine out of the darkness of our despair. But it was not like the soft beam of the moon, which kindly shines on the path of the benighted pilgrim, and guides him to a place of shelter. It was rather like the angry gleam of lightning which, while for a moment it illumines the landscape around, discloses the black magazines of heaven’s artillery and threatens death to the unwary gazer.
“February 18. Arrived in Rangoon.”