and Mr. Boardman's cough grew hollow, his voice husky, the shadow beneath his eye darker, the cheek more glowing, the eye more brilliant, the frame weaker, and heavy with faintness, and the spirit purer and more enthusiastic. He was very near his eternal home. CHAPTER IX. WITHERING AND WATCHING. "Come to the land of peace! Come where the tempest hath no longer sway, The sounds of weeping cease!" Mrs. Hemans. HE angel-call, to which the sweet poetess has given words, was writ ten on lip, cheek, and forehead of the failing missionary; but yet the fire of life. went out so slowly, spark by spark, that the process was for a long time scarce visible to any, but the eye of love. He still pursued his labours with ever-growing enthusiasm-now itinerating about the villages bordering Tavoy, and now taking a long tour among the Karen mountains, until compelled to forego the spirit-stirring employments and watch by the pillow of his suffering wife. In January, Mrs. Boardman appeared to be upon the verge of the grave. A little after she rallied slightly; and in March took a voyage to Maulmain, where she still continued to improve. In April she was joined by her husband; his presence being necessary to supply, in some degree, the places of Messrs. Judson and Wade, who had left their station, for a time, in favour of Burmah Proper. In June, Mrs. Boardman thus writes a friend, My dear husband is suffering from a distressing cough, which the doctor says is undoubtedly occasioned by an affection of the lungs. It was brought on by our dreadful exposures and sufferings during the rebellion; and, I think, much increased by the hardships he endured in his village-preaching at Tavoy. He used sometimes to walk twenty miles in a day, preaching and teaching as he went, and at night have no shelter but an open zayat, no food at all calculated to sustain his failing nature, and no bed, but a straw mat spread on the cold, open bamboo floor." And now came the indescribably mournful watch, when the aching heart feels its one earthly support crumbling, sand by sand, from beneath it, and there is none to raise a saving finger. But still the toil went on even now— Mr. Boardman preaching, attending Scriptural recitations, and prayer-meetings, overseeing the printing of books, preparing lessons for the boys' school, &c. &c., and Mrs. Boardman, assisted by Mrs. Bennett, who had lately arrived, busy in her own scarcely less important province. In November they returned to Tavoy, and from the cabin of the vessel, which conveyed them thither, thus speaks the sorrowful watcher:-"Oh, my dear mother, it would distress you to see how emaciated he is!—and so weak, that he is scarce able to move. God is calling to me in a most impressive manner, to set my heart on heavenly things. Two lovely infants already in the world of bliss-my beloved husband suffering under a disease, which will most assuredly take him from me my own health poor, and little Georgie often ill. Oh, how little have I to attach me to this wretched, fallen world!" *** They were welcomed to Tavoy by affectionate hearts-especially the simple, grateful Karens, who flocked to them in crowds from their homes in the wilderness. Mrs. Boardman thus makes mention of this singular people, in a letter, bearing date January 10th, 1831: "They" (the Karens) "had heard of Mr. Boardman's illness; and the sadness depicted on their countenances, when they saw him so pale and emaciated, affected me much. I felt that God had, indeed, raised me up sympathizing friends, even in the wilderness, among those who are considered barbarians by the Burmans themselves. Before we had been here a fortnight, one party came for the sole purpose of seeing us and hearing the gospel. They remained four days, and the eagerness with which they listened to our instructions, and the deep interest they manifested in religious affairs, reminded us of our associations at home. The three first days were spent in examining candidates for baptism, and conversing with, and instructing those who had previously been baptized. Sometimes Mr. Boardman sat up in a chair, and addressed them for a few moments; but oftener, I sat on his sick couch, and interpreted his feeble whispers. He was nearly overcome by the gladdening prospect, and frequently wept. But the most touchinglyinteresting time was the day before they left us, when nineteen were baptized. * Our road lay through that part of the town which is filled with monasteries; and over the huge brick walls we could see multitudes of |