ing that
heard your lowest whispers, and most secret sighs--why then, did you
not, day and night, entreat him in our behalf?" Mr. Boardman in his
journal says, "My dear wife became at this time so deeply impressed with
divine things, and particularly with a sense of her own sinfulness, that
she had no rest night or day. We both endeavored to return to the Lord
from whom we had strayed; but our path, especially that of Mrs. B. led
hard by the borders of despair.... We confessed our sins to the Lord and
to one another. We considered ourselves worthy to be trodden under foot
of men, and were astonished to think of our pride and selfishness.... We
were filled with the most distressing views of our utter sinfulness in
the sight of a holy God."

Thus was this affliction, though "grievous," beginning to work out in
her heart its "peaceable fruit of righteousness," by deepening her
humility, quickening her zeal, and leading her to a more thorough
consecration of herself to the work she had undertaken.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 10: Romans ix. 3.]

CHAPTER VIII.

DEATH OF THEIR FIRST-BORN.--LETTERS FROM MRS. B.

In the spring of 1829 Mr. Boardman and his family made a short
sea-voyage for the benefit of their health, Mrs. Boardman having
experienced another attack of illness, and their little George being
frail and puny. Indeed none of the family seemed to have been healthy
but the "plump, rosy-cheeked" first-born, the darling Sarah, her
mother's joy and pride, and--as her Heavenly Father saw--her _idol_ too!
Terrible was the stroke that shattered that lovely idol; but it came--so
faith assured her--from a father's hand. Sometime afterward she writes,
"My ever dear Sister, I think I have not written you since the death of
our beloved Sarah, which is nearly eight months ago. I have never
delayed writing to you so long before. For some time after her death,
little George was apparently near the grave, and I was confined to my
bed for a number of weeks. As soon as my health was a little improved,
the rebellion at Tavoy took place, which threw us all into confusion,
and this lasted until I was taken ill again about three months since.
From this illness I am but just recovering. So you see, my beloved
sister, my outward circumstances have been sufficient to prevent my
writing. Nor is this all--for some time after little Sarah's departure,
I was too much distressed to write; I felt assured that God had taken
her away from