missionaries, and for the
Christian natives where they might worship God in peace, under the
shelter of the English government." One of these provinces was fixed
upon as the seat of the mission, and the new town of Amherst was to be
the residence of the missionaries. Native Christian families began to
assemble there, and Mrs. Judson made vigorous preparations to open a
school. Mr. Crawford of the British Embassy after long solicitation,
succeeded in persuading Mr. Judson, that by accompanying him in the
capacity of interpreter to the court of Ava he might secure to the
mission certain advantages he had long had greatly at heart, and he
reluctantly consented to go. Leaving Mrs. Judson and her infant daughter
in the house of the civil superintendent at Amherst, he proceeded to the
Burman capital. The journey was every way unfortunate; attended with
long delays, and in its result, as far as Mr. Judson was concerned,
quite unsuccessful. But it was chiefly disastrous because it detained
him from the sick and dying bed of that devoted wife to whom he was
bound by every tie that can attach human hearts to each other; and
compelled her to end her troubled pilgrimage _alone_. That God who
"moves in a mysterious way," had ordered it that she who had lived
through appalling dangers and threatening deaths until her mission of
love toward those she had cherished so fondly was accomplished, was--now
that her trials seemed nearly ended, and the hopes of her heart
seemingly in a train of accomplishment--suddenly called from the scene
of her labors to that of her "exceeding great reward." It was as if a
noble ship after encountering storms and tempests, after being often
nearly wrecked, and as often saved almost by miracle, should when
already in port and in sight of anxious spectators, suddenly sink
forever.

In a letter to the corresponding secretary, dated Ava, Dec. 7, 1826, Mr.
Judson writes: "The news of the death of my beloved wife, has not only
thrown a gloom over all my future prospects, but has forever embittered
the recollection of the present journey, in consequence of which I have
been absent from her dying bed, and prevented from affording the
spiritual comfort which her lonely circumstances peculiarly required,
and of contributing to avert the fatal catastrophe, which has deprived
me of one of the first of women, and best of wives. I commend myself and
motherless child to your sympathy and prayers."

From a letter from M