followed her revision of the tracts by a translation of the New-Testament; and at the close of the year 1837, she gave to the press an edition of the Life of Christ, which she had translated from the Burmese. In the meantime, Mr. Haswell had arrived; and, as soon as she could do so to advantage, she gladly placed all her books and papers in the hands of a missionary, of whose facility in acquiring languages she speaks admiringly; and whose indefatigable labours in a field, which had interested her so deeply, must have been very gratifying.

Mrs. Judson's labours in the Peguan, were somewhat singular; indeed, I believe scarce. precedented. Missionaries sometimes abandon one language and devote themselves to the acquisition of another, in which they hope to effect more good. But I know of only one other instance (Ann H. Judson, in the Siamese) of stepping from the path which has grown familiar to the foot, toiling for years merely to supply an exigency, and then, resigning the labour and its fruits to another, as willingly as though it had never cost an effort. She used to sit by her study-table, all day long, except when called elsewhere by imperative duty, with two or three assistants about her;

and, though the translations and revisions there made were necessarily imperfect, there has been a time when they were invaluable. It was from this position, that the following words were penned: "I am sure, my dear parents, that you have never regretted giving up your beloved child, your first-born, to the cause of Christ. However unworthy the offering, it was valuable to you; and if given up in a right spirit, it has been the source of most precious blessings to your souls. It is in this state of existence only, that we can testify our gratitude to the Saviour, by suffering and denying ourselves for him. Oh! as we draw near eternity, and the bubbles of earth recede from our dazzled vision, shall we not lament that we have done so little for Christ-that we have been willing to deny ourselves so little for His sake who gave up his life for us? Oh! let us live for the Saviour, and then, after a long separation on earth, how sweet to meet at God's right hand, to part no more for ever!"

The letter continues, "The little ones play in the verandah, adjoining the room where I sit all the day, with my Peguan translator. It is open to the road, and I often have inquirers. Since I commenced this letter, I happened to

look up, and saw a man leaning over the balustrade, looking at me very attentively. The thought occurred to me, he may be one of the dear chosen ones, and may have been guided to this place to hear the blessed Gospel. So I asked him what he wanted. He replied, he was looking to see me write. I immediately laid down my pen, invited him in, and he sat a long time listening to the truth. He promised to pray to the Eternal God, to give him a new heart, that he might believe in the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, of whom he says he never heard till to-day. He is a Shan, who has been residing for a number of years at Pegu, and came here for trade. He lives in his boat; and, while strolling about the streets, was led by curiosity hither; and oh, may it be for the salvation of his soul !"

This manner of life, as has been before intimated, had no showiness about it; but every moment of time—each golden sand, as it dropped from the glass, combined with that which went before, to be moulded into jewels of infinite richness. Notwithstanding the bright promise of Mrs. Judson's girlhood, her intellect was in reality not a precocious one, and there had been no premature development. On the contrary, every day in her new position, gave

strength and comfort to her mental powers, and increased loftiness to her character, without abating its attractive gentleness. So, even in this life, begin "the children of light" to mount the ladder, whose gradations will be the measure of eternity.

CHAPTER XIII.

"

THE MOTHER AND CHILD.

He's gone, but oft in memory's light,
His cherished face will shine,

His plaintive voice be in my ear,

His little hand in mine."

Judson.

E have passed one event in
Mrs. Judson's life-the greatest

of all trials which beset a mis

sionary's trial-lined path-without mention. It is a hard thing for a mother to lay the child of her love, from her bosom, to the dark, damp pillow fashioned by the sexton's spade; it is very hard; but when the little spirit passes from the clay, both hope and fear pass with it, and even love lies down to a sleep of beautiful dreams, to awake at last with its renovated treasure in Paradise. She knows that her precious lamb is folded in the Saviour's arms; and sorrow gathers a serene sweetness, more grateful to a meek heart than the brightest