"At about nine o'clock, his hands and feet grew cold, and the affectionate Karens rubbed them all the forenoon, excepting a few moments when he requested to be left alone. At ten o'clock he was much distressed for breath, and I thought the long dreaded moment had arrived. I asked him if he felt as if he was going home,—' not just yet,' he replied. On giving him a little wine and water, he revived. Shortly after he said, 'you were alarmed without cause, just now, dear-I know the reason of the distress I felt, but am too weak to explain it to you.' In a few moments he said to me, 'Since you spoke to me about George, I have prayed for him almost incessantly-more than in all my life before.' "It drew near twelve, the time for us to go to the boat. We were distressed at the thought of removing him, when evidently so near the last struggle, though we did not think it so near as it really was. But there was no alternative. The chilling frown of the iron-faced Tavoyer was to us as if he were continually saying, 'be gone.' I wanted a little broth for my expiring husband, but on asking them for a fowl, they said they had none, though at that instant, on glancing my eye through an opening in the floor, I saw three or four under the house. My heart was well nigh breaking. "We hastened to the boat, which was only a few steps from the house. The Karens carried Mr. Boardman first, and as the shore was muddy, I was obliged to wait till they could return for me. They took me immediately to him; but O the agony of my soul, when I saw the hand of death was on him! He was looking me full in the face, but his eyes were changed, not dimmed, but brightened, and the pupils so dilated that I feared he could not see me. I spoke to him-kissed him—but he made no return, though I fancied that he tried to move his lips. I pressed his hand, knowing if he could he would return the pressure; but, alas! for the first time, he was insensible to my love, and forever. I had brought a glass of wine and water already mixed, and a smelling-bottle, but neither was of any avail to him now. Agreeably to a previous request, I called the faithful Karens, who loved him so much, and whom he had loved unto death, to come and watch his last gentle breathings, for there was no struggle "Never, my dear parents, did one of our poor fallen race have less to contend with in the last enemy. Little George was brought to see his dying father, but he was too young to know there was cause for grief. When Sarah died, her father said to George, 'Poor little boy, you will not know to-morrow what you have lost to-day.' A deep pang rent my bosom at the recollection of this, and a still deeper one succeeded when the thought struck me, that though my little boy may not know to-morrow what he lost to-day, yet when years have rolled by; and he shall have felt the unkindness of a deceitful, selfish world, he will know. "Mr. Mason wept, and the sorrowing Karens knelt down in prayer to God-that God, of whom their expiring teacher had taught them-that God, into whose presence the emancipated spirit was just entering-that God with whom they hope and expect to be happy forever. My own feelings I will not attempt to describe. You may have some faint idea of them, when you recollect what he was to me, how tenderly I loved him, and, at the same time, bear in mind the precious promises to the afflicted. "We came in silence down the river, and landed about three miles from our house. The Karens placed his precious remains on his little bed, and with feelings which you can better imagine than I describe, we proceeded homewards. The mournful intelligence had reached town before us, and we were soon met by Moung Ing, the Burman preacher. At the sight of us he burst into a flood of tears. Next we met the two native Christian sisters who lived with us. But the moment of most bitter anguish was yet to come on our arrival at the house. They took him into the sleeping room, and when I uncovered his face, for a few moments, nothing was heard but reiterated sobs. He had not altered-the same sweet smile with which he was wont to welcome me, sat on his countenance. His eyes had opened in bringing him, and all present seemed expecting to hear his voice, when the thought, that it was silent forever, rushed upon us, and filled us with anguish sudden and unutterable. There were the Burman Christians, who had listened so long, with edification and delight, to his preaching-there were the Karens, who looked to him as their guide, their earthly all—there were the schol ars whom he had taught the way to heaven, and the Christian sisters, whose privilege it had been to wash, as it were, his feet. Early next morning his funeral was attended, and all the Europeans in the place, with many natives, were present. It may be some consolation to you to know that everything was performed in as decent a manner, as if he had been buried in our own dear native land. By his own request he was interred on the south side of our darling first-born. It is a pleasant circumstance to me that they sleep side by side. But it is infinitely more consoling to think, that their glorified spirits have met in that blissful world, where sin and death never enter, and sorrow is unknown. "Praying that we may be abundantly prepared to enter into our glorious rest, I remain, my dear parents, your deeply afflicted, but most affectionate child, S. H. BOARDMAN." The subjoined document, purporting to be an epitaph, was sent to this country with other papers from Tavoy. SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF GEORGE D. BOARDMAN, AMERICAN MISSIONARY TO BURMAH. His Epitaph is written in the adjoining Forests. Ask in the Christian villages of yonder mountains-Who taught you to abandon the worship of demons? Who raised you from vice to morality? Who brought you your Bibles, your Sabbaths, and your words of Prayer? LET THE REPLY BE HIS EULOGY, A cruce corona. 27 CHAPTER XXI. Conclusion. THE esteem in which Mr. Boardman was held by his missionary associates, is fully attested by the following extract from Mr. Judson's journal. rest. "One of the brightest luminaries of Burmah is extinguished-dear brother Boardman is gone to his eternal He fell gloriously at the head of his troops in the arms of victory-thirty-eight wild Karens having been brought into the camp of King Jesus since the beginning of the year, besides the thirty-two that were brought in during the two preceding years. Disabled by wounds, he was obliged, through the whole of his last expedition, to be carried on a litter; but his presence was a host, and the Holy Spirit accompanied his dying whispers with almighty influence. Such a death, next to that of martyrdom, must be glorious in the eyes of Heaven. Well may we rest assured, that a triumphal crown awaits him on the great day, and Well done, good and faithful Boardman, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." " This testimony to his worth is merited. Few missionaries have had the honor of accomplishing so much for God in so short a time. Omitting entirely the success of his labors with the Circular Road church in Calcutta, and leaving out of the account his establishment of the station at Maulmein, and the result of his efforts for the conversion of the Burmans, who daily thronged his zayat; the success of the Gospel at Tavoy alone, during the short period of his labors, has rarely been surpassed, in the same length of time, even in Christian countries. He had occupied that important station a little less than three years, from which is to be deducted seven months' absence at one time, by reason of ill health, besides almost perpetual interruptions by sickness and deaths in his family, and a suspension of his labors for some time, in consequence of the revolt at Tavoy; yet, in the short time left him for missionary operations, he succeeded, under God, in gathering a church of seventy professed disciples, mostly from the Karen jungle. Twenty-six were baptized soon after his death, most, if not all of whom, probably owed their hope of heaven to his instrumentality. But the extent of his usefulness is not to be measured by the number of hopeful converts to Christianity, gathered by his immediate labors. The seed which he sowed is still springing up, and though he rests from his labors, hist voice yet lives in its echoes amid the hills and the vallies of his beloved Karens. Under date of December 19th, 1831, Mr. Mason, who succeeded him at Tavoy, has the following note in his journal: "I have been busily occupied all day and evening with. the examination of candidates for baptism, and have received thirteen. One man, Moung Thah Oo, attributes his conversion to the preaching of a Karen Christian, during the last rains, but most of them heard Mr. Boardman preach when he visited them three years ago, and say they believed at the first hearing, but did not obtain a new heart till about a year afterwards. One said he got a new mind when some of the first converts were baptized. Thus the work of conversion seems to have been produced, by the blessing of God, on means precisely similar to those which are blessed in revivals at home. The whole, however, is to be traced to Mr. Boardman's first visit to the jungle in 1829. An impulse was then given to Karen minds, which I confidently anticipate will never stop, until the whole nation is converted." The following just delineation of his moral, religious and intellectual character, has been kindly furnished by one who knew him best, Dr. Chaplin, under whose immediate instruction he received his collegiate education. "Dear Sir, "In compliance with your request, I will attempt to state a few things in relation to Mr. Boardman. "When I first became acquainted with him, he appeared |