that those strong men could witness unmoved, ay, with delight, the intense
anguish of a feeble, weeping, broken-hearted woman. To every prayer she
offered and every plea she made, they gave back words of cruelty and scorn;
and when she entreated them, for the love of humanity, to allow her to
converse with Mr. J. a few minutes longer, they refused; and as she
hesitated, they cried, in angry tones, "_Depart, or we will drag you out_."

The admirable conduct of this heroic woman, under such trying
circumstances, we cannot too much applaud. Ceaselessly she labored for the
release of her husband. From one member of the royal family to another
she went, with prayers that they would intercede in her behalf.
Repulsed everywhere, she fainted not, but toiled night and day for the
accomplishment of her purpose.

After about a month's confinement, Mr. J. was violently beset with
fever, and the governor gave orders that he should be removed to a more
comfortable situation. He was accordingly placed in a little bamboo hut,
and his wife permitted to attend him. Here he remained three days, when the
English advancing upon the capital, the order was given for the removal of
the prisoners. They were hurried away without warning, and Mrs. Judson was
left in a state bordering on distraction. She soon found, on inquiry, the
direction which the prisoners had taken. With a single servant and two
Burman children, she started, with her babe, three months old, in her arms,
to find her companions in suffering. She overtook them at Oung-pen-la, and
found their condition to be wretched beyond description. Their journey was
over a rough, burning road, and, chained two by two, they were whipped
along like cattle bound to the place of slaughter. Their backs were
blistered by the sun, and their feet scorched by the ground, until every
step they took drew forth a groan of anguish, which their drivers answered
with yells of delight. One poor creature fell in the pathway, and was