Sufferings of the Judsons.
By Editor
IT is sometimes the case (is it not quite often?) that they who own to a call from the Lord to work in his vineyard, feel that they have a hard time. Sometimes they compare their lot with that of some others in the ministry. Sometimes they feel that they are called to labor in an unpleasant field. It may be profitable to such to read what others have suffered for the cause of Christ and to "rescue the perishing." And "ministers' wives" often think they have a hard lot, of suffering and privation. The following, from the journal of Mrs. Judson, ought to prove instructive to all who believe that the Third Angel's Message is a missionary message, and feel that they have the privilege of taking a part in this glorious work.—ED. SIGNS. On the 8th of June, just as we were preparing for dinner, in rushed an officer, holding a black book, with a dozen Burmans, accompanied by one, whom, from his spotted face, we knew to be an executioner, and a "son of the prison." "Where is the teacher?" was the first inquiry. Mr. Judson presented himself. "You are called by the king," said the officer—a form of speech always used when about to arrest a criminal. The spotted man instantly seized Mr. Judson, threw him on the floor, and produced the small cord, the instrument of torture. I caught hold of his arm. "Stay," said I; "I will give you money." "Take her too," said the officer; "she also is a foreigner." Mr. Judson, with an imploring look, begged they would let me remain till further orders. The scene was now shocking beyond description. The whole neighborhood had collected; the masons at work on the brick house threw down their tools, and ran; the little Burman children were screaming and crying; the Bengalee servants stood in amazement at the indignities offered their master; and the hardened executioner, with a kind of hellish joy, drew tight the cords, bound Mr. Judson fast, and dragged him off, I knew not whither. In vain I begged and entreated the spotted face to take the silver and loosen the ropes; but he spurned my offers, and immediately departed. I gave the money, however, to Moung Ing to follow after, to make some further attempt to mitigate the torture of Mr. Judson; but instead of succeeding, when a few rods from42the house, the unfeeling wretches again threw their prisoner on the ground, and drew the cords still tighter, so as almost to prevent respiration. The officer and his gang proceeded on to the court-house, where the governor of the city and officers were collected, one of whom read the order of the king to commit Mr. Judson to the death-prison, into which he was soon hurled, the door closed, and Moung Ing saw no more. What a night was now before me! I retired into my room, and endeavored to obtain consolation from committing my case to God, and imploring fortitude and strength to suffer whatever awaited me. But the consolation of retirement was not long allowed me; for the magistrate of the place had come into the veranda, and continually called me to come out, and submit to his examination. But previously to going out, I destroyed all my letters, journals, and writings of every kind, lest they should disclose the fact that we had correspondents in England, and had minuted down every occurrence since our arrival in the country. When this work of destruction was finished, I went out, and submitted to the examination of the magistrate, who inquired very minutely of everything I knew; then ordered the gates of the compound to be shut, no person to be allowed to go in or out, placed a guard of ten ruffians, to whom he gave a strict charge to keep me safe, and departed. It was now dark. I retired to an inner room with my four little Burman girls, and barred the doors. The guard instantly ordered me to unbar the doors and come out, or they would break the house down. I obstinately refused to obey, and endeavored to intimidate them by threatening to complain of their conduct to higher authorities on the morrow. Finding me resolved in disregarding their orders, they took the two Bengalee servants, and confined them in the stocks in a very painful position. I could not endure this, but called the head man to the window and promised to make them all a present in the morning, if they would release the servants. After much debate, and many severe threatenings, they consented, but seemed resolved to annoy me as much as possible. My unprotected, desolate state, my entire uncertainty of the fate of Mr. Judson, and the dreadful carousings and almost diabolical language of the guard, all conspired to make it by far the most distressing night I ever passed. You may well imagine, my dear brother, that sleep was a stranger to my eyes, and peace and composure to my mind.