part with them too, and probably for life. May their dying mother's prayers be heard, and draw down the great blessing on their hearts, and on the poor little orphans we have left at Moulmein and Amherst.

At the Isle of France, we left the Paragon, and embarked on an American vessel, bound direct to the United States; so that I shall not have the privilege of visiting -'s friend in London. I have not heard a word from Moulmein since leaving. I am anxious to hear of your family affairs, and most anxious to hear whether poor little Charlie, your ship-mate in the Ganges, is still alive. If so, pray send for him some times, and look on his face, which I hope is not so thin and pale as formerly.

Your's affectionately,

A. JUDSON.

The letter was long in reaching its destination, and poor little Charlie had laid his pale face in the grave. Written after he had recovered composure under his heart-crushing bereavement, and in order to convey what he knew would be a life-long source of mournful happiness, the message of her " great affection”written therefore in the confidence of friendship-we should not have given it publicity, but that we think the letter beautiful, characteristic, and sure to be treasured by all connected with Sarah Judson and her husband. To their children it will be one more record of their mother's love and prayers; and to Abby Ann in particular, it will be a wreath, though a cypress one, from her father's hand, at a time that peace, partly through her instrumentality, though a child, was returning to her pious father's breast.

That a man of Judson's eminence, and virtually the father of the American Baptist Mission to Burmah, should have been received, as he was in America, was to be expected.* Upon his short, but useful stay there, and his rapid return to the field of his life and labour, it is not our purpose to dwell: but we think our readers will thank us for the following farewell address read at Boston-Judson being at the time unable to sustain his voice through more than a few sentences :

There are periods in the lives of men, who experience much change of scene and variety of adventure, when they seem to themselves to be subject to some supernatural illusion, or wild magical dream,-when they are ready

• Dr. Judson was received by the Christians of America with an affectionate and enthusiastic veneration, that knew no bounds. His eminent position, as the founder and pioneer of the Mission, his long and successful labours in the far East, his romantic and eventful life, associated with all that is most beautiful and lofty in human nature, his world-wide fame, and his recent affliction, encircled him in the people's mind with the halo of an Apostle. "The Judson Offering," a beautiful little perennial, spreading by tens of thousands through the country, deepened and widened the feeling which gave it birth. This was no vulgar and passing breath of popular ap plause; it was the heart given and worthy homage of the wise and the good. His whole Missionary life indeed was one long continued appeal to the imagination, the judgment, and the heart.-ED.

amid the whirl of conflicting recollections, to doubt their own personal identity, and, like steersmen in a storm, feel that they must keep a steady eye to the compass, and a strong arm at the wheel. The scene, spread out before me, seems on retrospection, to be identified with the past, and, at the same time, to be reaching forward and foreshadowing the future. At one moment, the lapse of thirty-four years is annihilated; the scenes of 1812 are again present; and this assembly, how like that which commended me to God, on first leaving my native shores for the distant east! But, as I look around, where are the well known faces of Spring, and Worcester, and Dwight? Where are Lyman and Huntington, and Griffin? And where are those leaders of the baptized ranks, who stretched their arms across the water, and received me into their communion? Where are Baldwin and Bolles? Where Holcombe and Rogers, and Staughton? I see them not. I have been to their temples of worship, but their voices have passed away. And where are my early Missionary associates-Newell, and Hall, and Rice, and Richards, and Mills? But why inquire for those so ancient? Where are the succeeding labourers in the Missionary field for many years, and the intervening generation, who moved among the dark scenes of Rangoon, and Ava, and Tavoy? Where those gentle, yet firm spirits, which tenanted forms delicate in structure, but careless of the storm, now broken and scattered and strewn, like the leaves of autumn, under the shadow of overhanging trees, and on remote islands of the sea?

No; these are not the scenes of 1812; nor is this the assembly, that which was convened in the tabernacle of a neighbouring city. Many years have elapsed; many venerated, many beloved ones have passed away to be seen no more. 'They rest from their labours, and their works do follow them." And with what words shall I address those who have taken their placesthe successors of the venerated and beloved-of the generation of 1812?

In that year, American Christians pledged themselves to the work of evangelizing the world. They had but little to rest on, except the command and promise of God. The attempts then made by British Christians had not been attended with so much success, as to establish the practicability, or vindicate the wisdom, of the Missionary enterprise. For many years the work advanced but slowly. One denomination after another embarked in the undertaking: and now American Missionaries are seen in almost every land and every clime. Many languages have been acquired; many translations of the Bible have been made; the Gospel has been extensively preached; and Churches have been established, containing thousands of sincere, intelligent converts. The obligation, therefore, on the present generation to redeem the pledge given by their fathers, is greatly enhanced. And it is an animating consideration, that with the enhancement of the obligation, the encouragements to persevere in the work, and to make still greater efforts, are increasing from year to year. Judging from the past, what may we rationally expect, during the lapse of another thirty or forty years? Look forward with the eye of faith. See the Missionary spirit universally diffused, and in active operation throughout this country-every Church sustaining, not only its own minister, but, through some general organization, its own Missionary in a foreign land. See the Bible faithfully translated into all languag es-the rays of the lamp of Heaven transmitted through every medium, and illuminating all lands. See the Sabbath spreading its holy calm over the face of the earth-the Churches of Zion assembling, and the praises of Jesus resounding from shore to shore; and, though the great majority may still remain, as now in this Christian country, "without hope and without God in this world," yet the barriers in the way of the descent and operations of

the Holy Spirit removed, so that revivals of religion become more constant and more powerful.

The world is yet in its infancy. The gracious designs of God are yet hardly developed. "Glorious things are spoken of Zion, the city of our God." She is yet to triumph, and become the joy and glory of the whole earth. Blessed be God, that we live in these latter times-the latter times of the reign of darkness and imposture. Great is our privilege, precious our opportunity, to co-operate with the Saviour in the blessed work of enlarging and establishing His kingdom throughout the world. Most precious the opportunity of becoming wise in turning many to righteousness, and of shining, at last, as the brightness of the firmament and the stars, for ever and ever.

Let us not, then, regret the loss of those who have gone before us, and are waiting to welcome us;—nor shrink from the summons that must call us thither. Let us only resolve to follow them "who through faith and patience inherit the promises." Let us so employ the remnant of life, and so pass away, as that our successors will say of us, as we of our predecessors, "Blessed are the dead, that die in the Lord. They rest from their labours, and their works do follow them."

Though under the necessity of having the foregoing read for him, yet he was able distinctly, but with marked emotion, to speak the following words, prophetic of what has come to pass: :-" I wish however with my own voice, to praise God for the proofs, which He has given of His interest in Missions; and to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for the kindness which I have received from you. I regret that circumstances beyond my controul have prevented my being much in this city, to make more intimate acquaintance with those, whom a slight acquaintance has taught me so much to love. I am soon. to depart; and, as is in the highest degree probable, never to return. I shall no more look upon this beautiful city-no more visit your temples, or see your faces. I have one favour to ' ask of you-pray for me, and my associates in the Missionary ' work; and, though we meet no more on earth, may we at last meet, where the loved and the parted here below meet never to part again."

We have observed that it was the lot of Judson to have, for the companions of his life and toil, women remarkable in a high degree for their abilities, attainments, and characters. They were as different in cast and qualities of intellect, and in the shades of distinctive character, as they were in personal presence. In one respect, however, they have been essentially alike; if they shared Judson's toil and labours, they also not only shared his glory, but brightened its light with their own effulgence. The lot of the one might be heroically to sustain and assuage, in the dawn of his career, in the first sharp struggles for Mission life, in the dark hour of imprisonment, suffering, and impend

ing violent death, which threatened to cut short the hope of that life; the lot of the second, to encourage, soothe, and cheer through long years of labour; that of the third to sweeten the close of the long years of toil, and to lend an arm to the edge of the grave; but one and all filled their respective posts, performed their appointed duties in a manner, which associate with Judson's name, bright tender rays of their own shedding. They were the stars of three distinct eras of his life-the active and militant, the contemplative and laborious, the hopeful and triumphant. We have not attempted to depict the peculiarities of the life and difficulties of a Missionary's wife in Burmah. These must be witnessed to be understood; but the most cursory attention cannot fail to be struck with the fact, that everything they accomplish (and they accomplished much) must be done in addition to the duties, which a family devolves upon them, and in a climate where a delicate American frame and constitution are ill calculated for the almost menial toil and labour, which very circumscribed means, and a consequent want of attendants and aid, necessarily cast upon them. Without a murmur, without a wish that it were otherwise, glorying in the cause of Christ, and taxing their frail, delicate frames to the uttermost, fulfilling all family and household duties under the most trying, and sometimes the most health-destroying, circumstances, these noble women have acheived more than many men, free from infirmities, and unembarrassed by the daily care and the multifarious duties of a family, would have accomplished. Whether we contemplate the heroine of his suffering and militant era, or the seraph of his less chequered, but not less useful, period, the wonder is, how could they find time (great as their abilities undoubtedly were) to master difficult languages, found, and teach in, schools, and aid in the work of conversion! We must answer, by a self-devotion fatally exhaustive of health and strength. To our mind there is no comparison whatever, between what the Missionary has to bear, and what his wife has to endure, in the American Baptist Mission on the Tenasserim Coast.

As Emily Judson survives, we have said little of the companion of the close of Judson's life. The following poems

Under the literary name of "Fanny Forester," Mrs. Judson was a popular favourite in America, as the writer of many spirited and genial sketches of rural life and scenery, both in prose and verse. These have since been collected into two pleasant volumes, entitled "Alderbrook." In her "Memoir of Mrs. Sarah Judson," undertaken at Dr. Judson's special desire, she has struck a higher key; and, we believe, that in gifts of the head and of the heart, as a wife and as a Christian, she is well worthy to take her place in the noble group of "the Judsons."-ED.

will, if not before known to our readers, give them some slight notion of the present Mrs. Judson :

Since last the tear drop on thy cheek

My lips in kisses met.

'Tis but a little time, I know,

But very long it seems;

Though every night I come to thee,

Dear mother, in my dreams.

The world has kindly dealt, mother,
By the child thou lov'st so well;

Thy prayers have circled round her path ;-
And 'twas their holy spell

Which made that path so dearly bright,

Which strewed the roses there,

Which gave the light, and cast the balm
On every breath of air.

I bear a happy heart, mother-
A happier never beat ;
And, even now, new buds of hope
Are bursting at my feet.

O! mother, life may be a dream;
But if such dreams are given,
While at the portal thus we stand,
What are the truths of Heaven?

I bear a happy heart, mother!

Yet, when fond eyes I see,

And hear soft tones and winning words,

I ever think of thee:

And then, the tear my spirit weeps,

Unbidden fills my eye;

And, like a homeless dove, I long

Unto thy breast to fly.

Then I am very sad, mother,

I'm very sad and lone;

Oh! there's no heart, whose inmost fold

Opes to me like thine own.

Though sunny smiles wreathe blooming lips,

While love tones meet my ear;

My mother, one fond glance of thine

Were thousand times more dear,