watch'd with eager hope to catch the laugh
First waking from thy sparkling eye, a beam
Lovely to me as the blue light of heaven.
Dimm'd in death's agony, it beams no more!

Oh yet once more I kiss thy marble lips,
Sweet babe I and press with mine thy whitened cheeks.
Farewell, a long farewell!--Yet visit me
In dreams, my darling; though the visioned joy
Wake bitter pangs, still be thou in my thoughts
And I will cherish the dear dream, and think
I still possess thee. Peace, my bursting heart!
O I submit. Again I lay thee down,
Dear relic of a mother's hope. Thy spirit,
Now mingled with cherubic hosts, adores
That grace that ransomed it, and lodg'd it safe
Above the stormy scene."

She then gives an interesting account of a visit paid them by the wife
of the Viceroy, who on hearing of the death of the 'little white child'
as she called him, came to condole with his parents. She was attended by
about two hundred of her officers of state and members of her household,
expressed great sympathy in Mrs. Judson's affliction, and reproached her
for not having sent her word that she might have come to the funeral.
Mrs. Judson says, "I regaled her with tea, sweetmeats, and cakes, with
which she seemed much pleased." She adds, "I sometimes have good
opportunities of communicating religious truths to the women in the
government-house, and hope I shall have an opportunity of conversing
with the wife of the Viceroy herself." ... "Oh that she might become a
real disciple of Jesus!"

In the same melancholy letter she relates another affliction--Mr.
Judson, who had frequently been asked by the natives, 'Where are your
religious books?' had been diligently employed in preparing a Tract in
the Burman language called 'A Summary of Christian Truth;' when his
nervous system, and especially his head became so afflicted, that he was
obliged to lay aside all study, and seriously think of a voyage to
Calcutta as his only means of restoration. But he was prevented from
executing his design by the joyful news that two additional missionaries
were about to join them. Mr. and Mrs. Hough, from America, arrived in
Rangoon in October, 1816; and brought with them as a present from the
Mission at Serampore, a printing press, with a fount of types in the
Burman character than which nothing could have been more acceptable.

Can we wonder that after laboring in loneliness and sorrow three yea