write what I feel on this tender subject. But oh! what kindness in our Heavenly Father, that when her services were so much needed, her health was preserved, and she had strength given her to perform her arduous labours."

CHAPTER X.

"DEATH IN THE JUNGLE."

"Oh! is it not a noble thing to die,

As dies the Christian, with his armour on !—"

X

Willis.

N January, 1831, the Rev. Francis Mason arrived at Tavoy. On the jetty, reclining helplessly in the chair which had served the purpose of a carriage, a pale, worn-out man, with "the characters of death in his countenance," waited to welcome his

successor.

"You have come in time, my brother," was the language of his glance, as he extended his emaciated, colourless hand; and so, indeed, he had.

In eight days after, the little family was on its way to the Karen wilderness, and Mr. Mason made one of the party. When they returned, a corpse was borne upon a litter, which had conveyed the invalid from the town. We leave the tale to another pen.

66

LETTER FROM MRS. BOARDMAN.

My beloved Parents:

Tavoy, March 7, 1831.

"With a heart glowing with joy, and at the same time rent with anguish unutterable, I take my pen to address you. You, too, will rejoice when you hear what God has wrought through the instrumentality of your beloved son. Yes, you will bless God that you were enabled to devote him to this blessed service among the heathen, when I tell you that within the last two months, fifty-seven have been baptized, all Karens, excepting one, a little boy of the school and son of the native governor. Twenty-three were baptized in this city by Moung Ing, and thirty-four in their native wilderness by Mr. Mason.

"Mr. Mason arrived Jan. 23d, and on the 31st, he, with Mr. Boardman, myself and George, set out on a long-promised tour among the Karens. Mr. Boardman was very feeble, but we hoped the change of air and scenery would be beneficial. A company of Karens had come to convey us out, Mr. Boardman on his bed, and me in a chair. We reached the place on the third day, and found they had erected a bamboo chapel on a beautiful stream

The

Oh it was a sight cal

liveliest joy of which

at the base of a range of mountains. place was central, and nearly one hundred persons had assembled, more than half of them applicants for baptism. culated to call forth the human nature is susceptible, and made me, for a moment, forget my bitter griefs-a sight far surpassing all I had ever anticipated, even in my most sanguine hours. The Karens cooked, ate and slept on the ground, by the river-side, with no other shelter than the trees of the forest. Three years ago they were sunk in the lowest depths of ignorance and superstition. Now the glad tidings of mercy had reached them, and they were willing to live in the open air, away from their homes, for the sake of enjoying the privileges of the Gospel.

My dear husband had borne the journey better than we had feared, though he suffered from exhaustion and pain in his side, which, however, was much relieved by a little attention. His spirits were unusually good, and we fondly hoped that a few days' residence in that delightful, airy spot, surrounded by his loved Karens, would recruit and invigorate his weakened frame. But I soon perceived he was failing, and tenderly urged his return to town, where he could enjoy the quiet of home,

and the benefit of medical advice. But he repelled the thought at once, saying he confidently expected improvement from the change, and that the disappointment would be worse for him than staying. And even,' added he, 'should my poor, unprofitable life be somewhat shortened by staying, ought I, on that account merely, to leave this interesting field? Should I not rather stay and assist in gathering in these dear scattered lambs of the fold? You know, Sarah, that coming on a foreign mission involves the probability of a shorter life, than staying in one's native country. And yet obedience to our Lord, and compassion for the perishing heathen, induced us to make this sacrifice. And have we ever repented that we came? No; I trust we can both say that we bless God for bringing us to Burmah, for directing our footsteps to Tavoy, and even for leading us hither. You already know, my love,' he continued, with a look of tenderness never to be forgotten, 'that I cannot live long, I must sink under this disease; and should we go home now, the all-important business which brought us out, must be given up, and I might linger out a few days of suffering, stung with the reflection, that I had preferred a few idle days, to my Master's service. Do not,