“Mr. Judson preaches _every_ Lord’s day to a crowded assembly, and _every evening_ to a congregation averaging thirty. We find our old chapel too small, and are about having a new one erected. The native assistants go about the town every day preaching the Gospel, and Mr. Judson holds a meeting with them every morning before breakfast, when he listens to their reports, prays with them, gives them instruction, etc. Besides this, the care of the Burman Church, ninety-nine in number, devolves upon him, as does all the revision, superintendence of the press, etc., etc., etc. He has lately baptized eighteen persons—seven English soldiers, five Indo-Britons, three Burmans, one Hindoo, one Arracanese, and one Mahometan. The latter is faithful old _Koo-chil_, the Hindoo cook mentioned in Mrs. Judson’s ‘Narrative.’ The poor old man resisted long and stubbornly the truth, and we were sometimes almost discouraged about him. But divine grace was too mighty for him, and on last Lord’s day we saw him bow beneath the Salwen’s yielding wave, and rise, I trust, to ‘newness of life.’ Two others have applied for baptism, and there are many hopeful inquirers both among European and natives.”
The Rev. Dr. Malcolm, who visited Burmah in 1836, gives a glimpse of the interior of Mr. Judson’s _zayat_:
“Our first Sabbath in this dark land was, of course, full of interest. In the morning we worshipped with the Burman congregation in the _zayat_. About seventy were present, nearly all Christians. Seldom have I seen so attentive and devout an audience. They sat, of course, on the floor, where mats, made of bamboo, were spread for their accommodation, a large bamboo, about eighteen inches from the floor, serving as a rest to the back. In prayer the Americans all knelt, and the rest leaned forward on their elbows, putting their palms together, and at the close of the petition, all responded an audible _Amen_. Mr. J. preached with much apparent earnestness, and all listened with rapt attention. Several inquirers were present, some of whom applied for baptism.”
The same observant traveller has drawn a word-picture of Mr. Judson’s personal appearance at this time:
“As my eye rested on this loved little company, it was sweet to contemplate the venerable founder of the mission, sitting there to rejoice in the growth of the cause he had so assiduously and painfully sustained. His labors and sufferings for years; his mastery of the language; his translation of the whole Word of God; and his being permitted now to be the pastor of a church containing over a hundred natives, make him the most interesting missionary now alive. What a mercy that he yet lives to devote to his people his enlarged powers of doing good! And we may hope he will very long be spared. His age is but forty-seven; his eye is not dim; not a gray hair shows itself among his full auburn locks; his moderate-sized person seems full of vigor; he walks almost every evening a mile or two at a quick pace; lives with entire temperance and regularity, and enjoys, in general, steadfast health. May a gracious God continue to make him a blessing more and more.”
From this point on, our narrative naturally assumes a more domestic character; and we are permitted to see Mr. Judson’s deep tenderness as a husband and a father. Some of the greatest objects of his life having been achieved, and his health beginning to decline, his restless spirit turned instinctively to family life for repose. On October 31, 1835, his heart was cheered by the birth of a daughter, whose name, Abby Ann,[53] associates her with his only sister, from whom he had parted so many years before, and also with her whom he left sleeping beneath the hopia-tree. While writing to his mother and sister, he mentions the birth of his child and betrays with what delight the care-wearied man, after his prolonged solitude, turned for rest to the amenities of home:
“MAULMAIN, _November_ 1, 1835.