storm.  We covered him with mats and blankets, and held our umbrellas over him, all to no purpose.  I was obliged to stand and see the storm beating upon him, till his mattress and pillows were drenched with rain.  We hastened on, and soon came to a Tavoy house.  The inhabitants at first refused us admittance, and we ran for shelter into the out-houses.  The shed I happened to enter, proved to be the ‘house of their gods,’ and thus I committed an almost unpardonable offence.  After some persuasion they admitted us into the house, or rather verandah, for they would not allow us to sleep inside, though I begged the privilege for my sick husband with tears.  In ordinary cases, perhaps, they would have been hospitable; but they knew that Mr. Boardman was a teacher of a foreign religion, and that the Karens in our company had embraced that religion.

“At evening worship, Mr. Boardman requested Mr. Mason to read the thirty-fourth Psalm.  He seemed almost spent, and said, ’This poor perishing dust will soon be laid in the grave; but God can employ other lumps of clay to perform his will, as easily as he has this poor unworthy one.’  I told him, I should like to sit up and watch by him, but he objected, and said in a tender supplicating tone, ‘Cannot we sleep together?’ The rain still continued, and his cot was wet, so that he was obliged to lie on the bamboo floor.  Having found a place where our little boy could sleep without danger of falling through openings in the floor, I threw myself down, without undressing, beside my beloved husband.  I spoke to him often during the night, and he said he felt well, excepting an uncomfortable feeling in his mouth and throat.  This was somewhat relieved by frequent washings with cold water.  Miserably wretched as his situation was, he did not complain; on the contrary, his heart seemed overflowing with gratitude.  ‘O,’ said he, ’how kind and good our Father in heaven is to me; how many are racked with pain, while I, though near the grave, am almost free from distress of body.  I suffer nothing, nothing to what you, my dear Sarah, had to endure last year, when I thought I must lose you.  And then I have you to move me so tenderly.  I should have sunk into the grave ere this, but for your assiduous attention.  And brother Mason is as kind to me as if he were my own brother.  And then how many, in addition to pain of body, have anguish of soul, while my mind is sweetly stayed on God.’  On my saying, ’I hope we shall be at home to-morrow night, where you can lie on your comfortable bed, and I can nurse you as I wish,’ he said, ’I want nothing that the world can afford, but my wife and friends; earthly conveniences and comforts are of little consequence to one so near heaven.  I only want them for your sake.’  In the morning we thought him a little better, though I perceived, when I gave him his sago, that his breath was very short.  He, however, took rather more nourishment than usual, and spoke about the manner of his