cordiality was peculiarly grateful to him. One of the officers took him to his own house, supplied him from his own wardrobe, procured a nurse, whom, however, he had occasion to employ but a short time, and displayed throughout a generous hospitality which Dr. Judson never forgot.” But his anxieties and sufferings during this voyage were fully parallelled by those of the heroic woman whom he had left behind him at Rangoon. From Christmas-day of 1817 until July 16 of the following year, no word whatever came to Mrs. Judson from her husband, from whom she had expected to be parted only for a few weeks. She occupied part of her time teaching about thirty Burman women whom she had gathered together. She writes: “I have again commenced my studies, keeping myself closely engaged until 2 o’clock. This I find the best method to avoid dejection. Besides my conscience will not permit me to sit idly down, and yield to those depressing feelings in which a Christian should not indulge.” A succession of disasters had swept over the little mission. She alone faltered not. We catch a gleam at Rangoon of that same fidelity and courage that afterward burned so long and so steadily at Ava and Oung-penla. The mission was harassed by Government persecution. It was rumored that the foreigners were to be banished. The viceroy, who had been their steady friend, was recalled to Ava. The new viceroy was a stranger to them. A menacing order summoned Mr. Hough to the court-house, with the message that, “If he did not tell all the truth relative to his situation in the country, they would write with his heart’s blood.” Mrs. Judson interceded in person, and by her own knowledge of the language, and her matchless womanly tact, conciliated the viceroy. Asiatic cholera raged in Rangoon. The death-gong sounded all the day long. Rumors of war between England and Burmah filled the air. The English ships one by one hastily weighed anchor and slipped out of the harbor; only a single vessel remained—the only way of escape. Her missionary associates, the Houghs, determined to seize this last opportunity, and fly from the country before it was too late. Against her will they urged her on board. But her great nature rose in its strength. She insisted on going ashore. She tore herself away and went back to the mission premises alone. Her husband, if still alive, should not return and find his mission-station deserted, and himself in Burmah without a companion. “For mightier far than strength of nerve and sinew, Or magic potent over sun and star, is Love; Though oft to agony distrest, And though his favorite seat be feeble woman’s breast.” The subjoined account of Mrs. Judson’s experiences is in her own words: