There they spent the second miserable night, exhausted with the galling of their chains, fatigue and hunger. Early in the morning of the 12th, a party of Burmans came to the dungeon door, evidently with the design of putting them to death; but just at this moment, some one from without exclaimed: "The English are coming! Instantly the whole of them fled with the utmost precipitancy and alarm; and the prisoners were soon after delivered from their prison and their chains by the British soldiers. The situation of the missionaries' wives, through all these dangers and trials, must have been painful in the extreme. On the first gloomy night, though not particularly molested, they had been entirely unable to sleep, from anxiety and alarm. One of the native Christians, Moung-Shwa-ba, had stayed with them through the night, and endeavored to comfort them by his pious conversation and his prayers. They had learned that their beloved husbands were to be beheaded at the firing of the first gun. When they heard the roaring of the cannon, they could not but regard it as the deathknell of those so dear; and their terrified imaginations pictured the merciless Burmans, at that fatal moment, imbruing their hands in their husbands' blood. They also had much reason to fear, that a few moments more would bring them to the same fate. Moung-Shwa-ba still remained with them, declaring that he would do all in his power to protect them and the property; which he did, even at the risk of his own life. He told them plainly, that the Burmans would come in search of them; it being an invariable custom among them, when they put a man to death under our circumstances, to sacrifice also his wife, children, and all his relations; even to the sixth generation. Finding, therefore, that they could not remain in the house with the least prospect of escape, they disguised themselves as Burmans, by blackening their faces, and dressing in the clothes of their servants; and thus, though the streets were crowded with Burmans, passed along undiscovered, while they several times heard Burmans inquiring for the teachers' wives. It was while in this disguise that they saw, as they supposed, their beloved husbands, on the way to execution; and almost resolved to give themselves up to the same fate. At length, however, God granted deliverance, and husbands and wives were permitted to meet each other in a place of safety. Their feelings can only be described by one of the sufferers himself, who closes his account of this wonderful deliverance, in the following words: -"I need not attempt to describe the feelings produced by meeting again, after we had passed through so many, and so great dangers; but, at length, we found ourselves again all together, well, and beyond the power of barbarous and unmerciful Burmans. For my own part, I was rendered almost delirious by so sudden a transition from the deepest distress to the highest pitch of joy. In reflecting upon those scenes of danger through which we all passed, and the narrow escapes which were afforded, when hope seemed entirely gone, I cannot help thinking, that our deliverance was almost miraculous. More than once, the danger which threatened us was so near, that I could only say: 'Lord, save Now, or we perish.' God was my only hope; and this hope did not fail me, even in the greatest extremity. Oh how invaluable is the hope of the gospel; which, like an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast, enters into that which is within the veil! And, standing upon the very border of eternity, as we viewed ourselves, how insignificant appeared all the objects which so much attract us in this world; how vast the concerns of a never-ending duration; and how invaluable a well-grounded hope in the merits of HIM, whose name is the only one given under heaven, and among men, whereby we must be saved!" "Men that have hazarded their lives for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ" - Such was the memorable encomium pronounced by the church at Jerusalem, upon Paul and Barnabas, when sending them to the Christian brethren at Antioch. And the same encomium is no less applicable to those devoted men of God, who, in the wonderful manner above related, were saved from the uplifted knife of the barbarian executioner, just as all possibility of escape seemed to be precluded, and every door of hope to be closed. "I am immortal," said the pious Whitefield, "till my work is done!" God had still work for his servants to do; and therefore it was out of the power of their savage oppressors to kill them. Their necks were bared, and their heads were bowed to receive the fatal blow; the man of blood had lifted the terrible instrument of death! - The voice of Jehovah was heard: "TOUCH NOT MINE ANOINTED, AND DO MY PROPHETS NO HARM!" The weapon dropped from the palsied arm of the executioner; "Jehovah had triumphed, his people were free." IT IS TOLD ME I MUST DIE. RICHARD LANGHORNE, A. D. 1679. The following extraordinary composition, which is somewhat abridged, may be appropriately inserted here. The author, who wrote it shortly before his execution, was an eminent English lawyer, unjustly executed for treason, in 1679, during the reign of King Charles II. The Quarterly Review justly remarks-"It is a most singular and passionate production. A poem it must be called, though it is not verse. Perhaps there is not, in this or any other language, a poem which appears to have flowed so entirely from the heart." It is told me I must die. O happy news! Be glad, O my soul, And rejoice in Jesus thy Saviour. Would He have laid down his life for thee? Would he have called thee with so much love, And illuminated thee with the light of his Spirit? Would He have given thee his own cross, And given thee shoulders to bear it with patience? 'It is told me I must die. O happy news! Come on, my dearest soul, Behold thy Jesus calls thee? He prayed for thee upon his cross ; There He extended his arms to receive thee; There He bowed down his head to kiss thee; There He opened his heart to give thee entrance; There He gave up his life to purchase life for thee. |