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Qualitative Text Analysis A Guide to Methods Practice
Using Software Udo Kuckartz Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Udo Kuckartz
ISBN(s): 9781446267745, 1446267741
Edition: Hardcover
File Details: PDF, 3.53 MB
Year: 2014
Language: english
 QUalitative
text analysis

Udo KUcKartz

kuckartz_AW.indd 4 21/05/2013 17:22

00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 1 10-Dec-13 11:19:54 AM
 SAGE has been part of the global academic community
since 1965, supporting high quality research and learning
that transforms society and our understanding of individuals,
groups, and cultures. SAGE is the independent, innovative,
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 QUalitative
text analysis
A uide to Methods, Practice & Using Software

Udo KUcKartz

kuckartz_AW.indd 5 21/05/2013 17:22

00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 3 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM
 SAGE Publications Ltd Udo Kuckartz  2014
1 Oliver’s Yard Anne McWhertor  2014 (English Translation)
55 City Road
London EC1Y 1SP First published 2002

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00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 4 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM

 Table of Contents
List of Figures vii
List of Tables ix
About the Author xi
Acknowledgements xiii
Preface xv

1. Analysing Qualitative Data – But How? 1

1.1 Qualitative, Quantitative – A Few Clarifications 1
1.2 Qualitative, Quantitative and Mixed Methods Research 4
1.3 The Challenge of Analysing Qualitative Data in Research
Practice 6
1.4 The Importance of the Research Question 9
1.5 The Need for Methodical Rigour 11

2. The Building Blocks of Systematic Qualitative Text Analysis 15

2.1 Classical Hermeneutics 16
2.2 Grounded Theory 21
2.3 Content Analysis and Qualitative Content Analysis 29
2.4 Other Practical Approaches to Qualitative Text Analysis 34

3. Basic Concepts and the Process of Qualitative Text Analysis 37

3.1 Main Concepts within Qualitative Text Analysis 37
3.2 Analysis Processes in Qualitative Text Analysis and Classical
Content Analysis 47
3.3 Starting a Qualitative Text Analysis: Initial Work with the Text,
Memos, and Case Summaries 49
3.4 Constructing Categories 54
3.5 The Example Study 63

4. Three Basic Methods of Qualitative Text Analysis 65

4.1 The Profile Matrix: A Fundamental Concept of Qualitative
Text Analysis 66
4.2 Similarities and Differences Between the Three Methods 67

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 vi table of contents

4.3 Thematic Qualitative Text Analysis 69

4.4 Evaluative Qualitative Text Analysis 88
4.5 Type-Building Text Analysis 103

5. Qualitative Text Analysis using Computer Assistance 121

5.1 Managing the Data: Transcribing, Anonymizing, Planning
Teamwork 122
5.2 Qualitative Text Analysis Using QDA Software 131
5.3 Advanced Analysis Using QDA Software 143

6. Quality Standards, Research Report, and Documentation 151

6.1 Quality Standards within Qualitative Text Analysis 151
6.2 Research Report and Documentation 155

7. Concluding Remarks 159

References 161
Index 167

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 List of Figures
Figure 2.1 The Approach of Hermeneutics (according to
Danner, 2006) 19
Figure 2.2 Dimensions of Categories 24
Figure 2.3 Dimensions of the Category ‘Observation’ 25
Figure 2.4 The Coding Paradigm 28

Figure 3.1 General Process of Qualitative Text Analysis 40

Figure 3.2 The Two Poles of Category Construction 55
Figure 3.3 News Headlines Sorted into Pre-Defined Categories 56
Figure 3.4 The Process of Creating Categories Inductively 60
Figure 3.5 Excerpt from the Interview-Guide of the Example Study 64

Figure 4.1 Thematic Qualitative Text Analysis Process 70

Figure 4.2 List of Main Thematic Categories 73
Figure 4.3 Coded Text Passages as Starting Point for Thematic
Summaries 82
Figure 4.4 Seven Types of Analysis and Presentation of Results in
Thematic Qualitative Analysis 84
Figure 4.5 Process of Evaluative Qualitative Text Analysis in
Seven Phases 89
Figure 4.6 Seven Types of Analysis and Presentation of Results in
Evaluative Qualitative Text Analysis 96
Figure 4.7 Five Phases of Empirical Type-Building 107
Figure 4.8 Building Types by Reducing the Diversity 109
Figure 4.9 Type-Building: From Case Summaries to Typologies 110
Figure 4.10 Type-Building Qualitative Analysis Process 111
Figure 4.11 Two-Dimensional Representation of Four Types
(Wenzler-Cremer, 2005) 118
Figure 4.12 Types of Analysis and Presentation of Results in
Type-Building Text Analysis 118

Figure 5.1 The Jefferson Notation System (1984) 126

Figure 5.2 Excerpt of a Transcript (Interview with Participant 7) 128
Figure 5.3 Interview Excerpt with Codings Displayed on the Left 133

vii

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 viii list of figures

Figure 5.4 Excerpt from Interview with R29, Paragraphs 33–37 134
Figure 5.5 Summarizing Coded Segments by Use of the Summary
Grid 138
Figure 5.6 Visualization of How a Group Discussion Progressed 146
Figure 5.7 Visual Representation of Interviews and Their Assigned
Categories 147

00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 8 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM

 List of Tables
Table 1.1 Qualitative and Quantitative Data and Analysis
(Bernard & Ryan, 2010) 3
Table 3.1 Different Kinds of Categories Found in the Social Science
Literature 39
Table 4.1 Prototypical Model of a Profile Matrix, here as a
Thematic Matrix 67
Table 4.2 Definition of the Sub-Categories within the Main Category
‘Largest Problems in the World’ 77
Table 4.3 Thematic Matrix as Starting Point for Thematic Summaries 81
Table 4.4 Definition of the Category ‘Sense of Responsibility’ with
Three Characteristics 92
Table 4.5 Definition of the Category ‘Sense of Responsibility’ with
Five Characteristics 93
Table 4.6 Final Definition of the Category ‘Sense of Responsibility’
with Four Characteristics 94
Table 4.7 Crosstab of Two Evaluative Categories 98
Table 4.8 Crosstab – Evaluative Category and Socio-Demographic
Variable 99
Table 4.9 Overview Table 100
Table 4.10 Segment Matrix 101
Table 4.11 Preisendoerfer’s Simple Typology of Environmental
Awareness and Behaviour 106
Table 5.1 Advantages and Disadvantages of Using Audio-Recordings 123
Table 5.2 Using QDA Software for Thematic Qualitative
Text Analysis 135
Table 5.3 Using QDA Software for Evaluative Qualitative
Text Analysis 139
Table 5.4 Using QDA Software for Type-Building Qualitative
Text Analysis 142
Table 6.1 Quality Standards within Quantitative and
Qualitative Research 152

ix

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00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 10 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM
 About the Author
Udo Kuckartz is a Professor of Educational Research and Social Research
Methods at Philipps University Marburg, Germany. He teaches courses on
qualitative and quantitative methods, general research designs, and mixed
methods research. He also taught at the Free University Berlin, the Technical
University Dresden, and the Humboldt University Berlin. He received his
Master’s degree in Sociology and Political Science from RWTH Aachen,
Germany. With a doctoral dissertation on “Computer and Verbal Data,” he
obtained his Ph.D. in Sociology from the Technical University Berlin,
Germany. Some years later he earned his habilitation, a second qualification
common in many European countries, in Educational Research from the Free
University Berlin.
He authored 17 books and more than 180 articles in journals and as contri-
butions to books. Most of his books are focused on qualitative and quantitative
methodology, e.g. textbooks on qualitative evaluation, on-line Evaluation,
computer-assisted qualitative data analysis, and an introduction into statistics.
Since the 1980s, he has worked on computer-assisted methods of qualitative
data analysis (QDA). In connection with his doctoral dissertation on computer
and verbal data, he was a pioneer in the field of QDA-software and developed
the software MAX (later winMAX, which is known worldwide today as
MAXQDA).
He is currently working on his 18th book, a textbook on Mixed Methods. At
Philipps University Marburg, he founded the Magma Research Group, which
organizes the annual “CAQD – Computer-Assisted Qualitative Data Analysis”
Conferences.
Dr. Kuckartz’ applied research focuses on environmental issues, particularly
on environmental attitudes and behaviour, as well as perceptions of climate
change. He has served as a leader for many nationwide surveys on environ-
mental attitudes on behalf of the German Federal Ministry for the Environment,
Nature Conservation, and Nuclear Safety. He has also completed other
research projects in this field for the UBA, the German Environmental
Protection Agency, and for the German Federal Agency for Nature Conservation.

xi

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00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 12 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM
 Acknowledgements
This book is the result of many seminars and workshops that I gave at the
Philipps University of Marburg, where I am teaching since more than ten
years, and other places around the world. To that extent, I am indebted to
many students and colleagues who have helped me to develop the concept of
systematic qualitative text analysis and to examine its practical application and
implementation. For the constructive discussion of the manuscript in its vari-
ous stages, I am especially grateful to Stefan Raediker, Claus Stefer, and
Thomas Ebert and to Uta-Kristina Meyer, Julia Busch, and my wife Anne
Kuckartz. Mailin Gunkel, Gaby Schwarz, and Patrick Plettenberg have eagerly
helped with the layout, bibliography, and technical drawing. A special thanks
goes to John Creswell, who has encouraged me again and again to translate my
books, which were previously published only in German, into English and
thus make them known in the English-speaking world.
As always, the writing of this book was a long process, from recording my
first ideas to submitting the final camera-ready draft. It was great fun and
often challenging and I thank everyone who has supported me.

xiii

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00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 14 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM
 Preface
This book is the result of a long-standing plan of mine to write a hands-on guide
to systematic analysis of qualitative data. As a university professor, I observed
how unsure graduate students and doctoral candidates felt when analysing
qualitative data. At a loss, they searched for an appropriate analysis strategy
and, specifically, for methods described as accurately as possible as well as
techniques they could apply to the practical implementation of their analysis.
This book will help to satisfy this need. It presents the central steps of the pro-
cess of qualitative text analysis in a straightforward way and describes three
main methods in detail: thematic, evaluative and type-building analysis.
Qualitative text analysis, as described in this book, derives from many
sources – thematic analysis, grounded theory, classical content analysis, and
others. It is a sort of hermeneutical-interpretive informed systematic analysis. In
European countries, very often, the term ‘qualitative content analysis’ is used
for that kind of analysis. In the Anglo-Saxon world, however, the method ‘con-
tent analysis’ is strongly associated with the quantitative paradigm. There, the
term ‘qualitative content analysis’ seems like a contradiction in itself. To avoid
misunderstandings, I will therefore use the term qualitative text analysis in this
book instead of ‘qualitative content analysis’. Three distinct forms of qualitative
text analysis are described in detail in this book, with particular regard to com-
plex types of analysis and the presentation of results. The possibilities for
qualitative text analysis have expanded greatly because of modern computer
technology; thus, this book will also present possibilities for practical imple-
mentation using QDA software (QDA stands for Qualitative Data Analysis).
The three methods described in this book, ‘thematic text analysis’, ‘evalua-
tive text analysis’, and ‘type-building text analysis’, represent three independ-
ent approaches that can also build on each other. Uwe Flick (2006, pp.
295–298) differentiates between methods of qualitative data analysis that use
‘coding and categorizing’ on the one hand and ‘sequential analysis’ (broken
down into ‘conversation and discourse analysis’ and ‘narrative and hermeneu-
tic analysis’) on the other hand. The three methods presented in this book
belong to the first group, i.e. category-based methods for the systematic analysis
of qualitative data.

xv

00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 15 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM

 xvi preface

Like Clive Seale and others (Seale, 1999b; Seale & Silverman, 1997), this book
strives for methodological rigour in qualitative social research. An accurate
description of the analytical approach and the recognition of the existence of
quality standards are, in my opinion, as essential to qualitative text analysis as
to any analysis method in the social sciences. With the new techniques of
computer-based analysis, ranging from different methods of coding and re-
finding, linking and writing notes to complex modelling and visualization of
qualitative data analysis, powerful tools are available to increase the quality of
the analysis. The closer proximity to the data, better accountability, transpar-
ency and documentation are likely to increase the credibility of qualitative
analysis and thus, their general appreciation in the scientific community. For
this reason, this book assumes that modern computer techniques will be used
and includes them as an integral part of the presentation of methods.
The aim of the book is to provide a hands-on description of the qualitative
text analysis approach, using the example of the analysis of qualitative inter-
views, and more specifically of guideline-structured interviews. Theoretically,
the methods presented are suitable for other data types such as narrative inter-
views, observation protocols, visual data, images, documents, etc., but they
must be adjusted accordingly. The three methods presented here are not
intended to form a rigid, constricting concept. These methods can be modified,
expanded and differentiated according to the approach adopted for actual
analysis in a research project. Here, I refer to the position expressed by
Huberman and Miles regarding the flexible application of evaluation strategies:

Data analysis is not off-the-shelf, rather it is custom-built, revised, and

‘choreographed’. (quoted by Creswell, 2003, p. 142)

Thus, this book does not present a one-size-fits-all approach to qualitative data
analysis, rather methods of analysis are presented, which have to be adapted
to the specific situation of a research project.
The book is constructed as follows: Under the heading, ‘Analysing
Qualitative Data – But How?’, Chapter 1 presents essential foundations and
argues the importance and the central role of the research question. Chapters
2 and 3 then turn to qualitative text analysis in the strict sense. The second
chapter traces the path from different ‘sources’ like grounded theory, thematic
analysis and classical quantitative content analysis to qualitative text analysis,
after which the basic concepts and the general process of qualitative text
analysis are shown in the third chapter. The fourth chapter represents the core
of the book, in which three methods of qualitative text analysis are described
in detail. Chapter 5 focuses on the possible assistance computer software can
provide throughout the entire analysis process, from transcription to presenta-
tion and visualization of results. The following chapter, Chapter 6, is devoted

00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 16 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM

 preface xvii

to issues of quality standards, creating the research report, and documenting

the analysis process. My original plan envisaged the book with the chapter on
quality standards before the chapter ‘Qualitative Text Analysis using Computer
Assistance’. This proved to be unpractical because the way in which the
software itself is used is relevant when assessing the quality of qualitative text
analysis. Thus, one would have had to take frequent reference to something
which was only described in the subsequent chapters, so that ultimately it
seemed sensible to move the chapter on quality standards back.
In the Internet era, it has been found that texts are perceived more as a hyper-
text rather than read sequentially or in their entirety. People often search very
selectively for the information they need. This book does not follow this trend;
rather, it has a linear structure, i.e. it is designed so that individual sections build
on one another and should therefore be read consecutively.

Udo Kuckartz, Marburg, April 2013

00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 17 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM

00_Kuckartz_Prelims.indd 18 10-Dec-13 11:19:55 AM
 1
Analysing Qualitative
Data – But How?

In this chapter, you will learn more about:

• The difference between qualitative and quantitative data.

• The ambiguity of the term ‘qualitative data analysis’.
• The relationship between qualitative, quantitative and mixed methods research.
• The importance of the research question in an analysis.
• The need for methodological rigour in qualitative research.

1.1 Qualitative, Quantitative – A Few Clarifications

What do the terms ‘qualitative data’ and ‘quantitative data’ mean? While the
term ‘quantitative data’ is directly associated – even by laymen – with num-
bers and statistics, and likely with costs in economic fields, the term ‘qualita-
tive data’ is not equally self-explanatory, as it has very different meanings in
various scientific disciplines as well as in everyday life. In human resources,
for example, it entails areas such as employee satisfaction, motivation, and
work environment as opposed to quantitative (hard) data, such as personnel
costs, headcount, etc. For geographers, the number of inhabitants in various
communities represents typical quantitative data, while classifying a munici-
pality into zones involves qualitative data. In psychology, qualitative data often
refers to data of the scale type nominal or categorical, i.e. actual data from the
field of standardized (quantitative) research. There you will even find text-
books that introduce the term ‘qualitative data’ in the title, but which actually
involve quantitative analysis methods for categorical data.

01_Kuckartz_Ch-01.indd 1 09-Dec-13 3:14:11 PM

Other documents randomly have
different content
reach it before night should make the forest path dark. Ko Thah Byu
sat by yon ruin, and read his book, and fell asleep, like the man in
the pilgrim-story of whom the padri [clergyman] tells. Ko Thah Byu
rose, and forgot his book, and went on his way, and trod many steps
towards Mouang ere his loss was known. Karen servant of Christ had
to go back; but he found the book, and now the reason why he lost
it is clear as the moon in the sky. Karen at Mouang would not know
of the white mem’s trouble; Karen in the wood could give help. All
was right—all is ever right that our Father God does for His children.”

“All was indeed ordered in mercy,” observed Io to her husband as

he walked beside her litter, which was borne on again by the Karens.
“My Oscar, at the worst, the very worst, I thought that the Lord
would come to our help. I prayed very hard in my terror, and I am
sure that you prayed too.”

“No, I did not pray,” was the gloomy reply, which astonished and
distressed the young wife.

“O Oscar! I felt as if the Lord’s loving hand were holding me up,”

she exclaimed.

“You saw the hand stretched forth to save; I saw the hand
upraised to strike.”

Oscar had no sooner uttered the unguarded words than he

wished them unsaid. The party were passing under the deep shadow
of the dark trees; the torches were some way in front. Oscar could
not see on his wife’s face the effect of the sentence which had
escaped from him in a moment of anguish; still less could he know
its effect on her mind, for Io uttered not another word until Mouang
was reached. The exclamation of Oscar had been to her like a fearful
revelation—a sudden gleam on a dark subject, but such a gleam as
a flash of forked lightning might give.

“Oscar not pray—at such a moment of peril not be able to pray!”

so ran Io’s troubled current of thought. “He—the noble, the good,
the pious—he could only see our loving Father’s hand upraised to
strike! What fearful mystery lies beneath this? We have long seen
my husband’s sadness, and made guesses—oh, what wrong
guesses!—as to its cause. What could so shut out a Christian from
communion with God but sin? My beloved one’s life is as pure as
mortal’s can be; there can be nothing in the present to weigh so
heavily on his conscience as to crush out the spirit of prayer. Can it
be possible that there has been something in the past which to one
so sensitive to the least touch of evil, one who so abhors the
smallest error, may appear to be a very serious sin? Oh that Oscar
would confide all to his wife, to one who would not love him less
whatever he might have done!”

Then Io’s thoughts fell naturally into the channel of prayer. She
had very often before pleaded for her husband—she had wrestled in
intercession at the time of his illness, and again and again after her
marriage—but never with more intense, agonized earnestness than
she did now, with her litter for an oratory, and the black, sombre
night as a curtain around her. Her head bowed on her clasped
hands, and the tears wetting her pale cheeks, Io prayed in the
gloomy forest. Then suddenly the litter emerged into moonlight, and
the calm holy brightness around seemed like an earnest of answer
to prayer.

“We are going for the third time to Mouang,” thought Io as she
leant back in her litter and closed her eyes, Oscar thought in sleep.
“It seems as if some invisible cord drew us to a spot of which
yesterday we knew not even the name. May it be that some strange
blessing awaits us there. May it be that the guiding Hand which is
leading us on in this land of strangers is taking us to a place where
my Oscar’s darkness will pass away, and where he will see and know
that goodness and mercy have followed, and will follow him still, all
the days of his life.”
 CHAPTER XIX.
THE PREACHER.
So entirely was Io absorbed in prayer that she did not notice
when Mouang was reached.

“What are your wishes, my love?” asked Oscar, as he helped his

wife out of the litter. “Shall we to-morrow proceed again towards
Tavoy, or return to Moulmein?” Coldstream had to repeat the
question before Io could even understand it; she was like one
awakened from sleep.

“I do not wish to go on,” Io then replied in a faint voice. “Let us

rest for a while in the village if you will, and then go back to our
home.”

Io’s extreme quietness disturbed Oscar; it was not in her nature

to be so passive. There was no talking over the night’s adventures,
no remarks about the Karen deliverer. If she spoke, it was like one
who speaks in a dream.

“It is the effect of past terror,” said Oscar to himself; but he was
mistaken in the supposition. Io had almost for the time forgotten the
danger through which she had passed, her mind was so filled with
the question, “What can it be that separates my beloved from his
God?”

The Karen villagers were asleep in their huts when, at the dead
of night, the travellers approached Mouang; but the voice of Ko
Thah Byu soon roused them from their slumbers. Everything that
could be done for the comfort of the white strangers was done with
all possible haste. The family who occupied the cleanest bamboo hut
hospitably gave it up to the lady. It was not the hour for milking
cows or goats, fruit was scarce, bread and green vegetables not to
be had; but a fire was lighted, rice hastily boiled, and dried river-
fish, with the dainties of red chillies and garlic, with leaves for plates,
supplied the Coldstreams and Maha with a midnight meal. Io could
eat little—her appetite was gone; but she was thankful to lie down
and rest, and try to forget her troubles in sleep.

Io was awakened in the morning by the beating of a small gong

suspended from the branch of a tree. She started to a sitting
posture, a little alarmed by the sound.

“It is only the call for the villagers to assemble for morning
prayer,” said Oscar, entering the hut with a large earthen vessel of
fresh milk in his hand. “Would you like to be present, my love?”

Io assented; and Oscar, who had been up for some time, left her
to make her morning preparations, and offer up her early devotions.
During the course of the night, the lost mules with their drivers had
made their appearance at Mouang, Ko Thah Byu having sent a Karen
guide after them to show them the way.

Before Io rejoined her husband, the early meeting for prayer was
half over. It was held in the open air: peasants, men and women,
some of the latter with babes in their arms and little children beside
them, listened to the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, which Ko
Thah Byu, standing on a slight eminence, read and expounded. The
Scriptures which missionaries had caused to be translated and
printed in the tongue of the Karens, was a treasure gladly welcomed
and still dearly prized by this people.

A fragment of one of Ko Thah Byu’s addresses having been

preserved in his memoir, is inserted here, as a specimen of the
untutored eloquence of this remarkable man. The evangelist, in his
own impressive and vehement way, denounced that love of the
world and its pleasures which is found even in the secluded villages
from which one might deem such temptations excluded.

“A worldly man is never satisfied with what he possesses. Let me

have more houses, more lands, more buffaloes, more slaves, more
clothes, more children and grandchildren, more gold and silver, more
paddy and rice, more boats and vessels; let me be rich: this is his
language. He thinks of nothing so much as of amassing worldly
goods; of God and religion he is quite unmindful. But watch that
man. On a sudden his breath departs; he finds himself deprived of
all he possessed and valued so much. He looks around, and sees
none of his former possessions. Astonished, he exclaims, ‘Where are
my slaves? where are my buffaloes? I cannot find one of them!
Where are my houses and my chests of money? What has become
of all my rice and paddy that I laid up in store? Where are the fine
clothes which cost me so much? I can find none of them. Who has
taken them? And where are my wives and children? Ah, they are all
missing; I can find none of them. I am lonely and poor indeed—
I have nothing!’ But what is this?” The impassioned preacher here
entered upon a description of the sufferings of the sinner that is lost;
after which he represented the rich man as taking up this
lamentation: “Oh, what a fool I have been! I neglected God, the only
Saviour, and sought only worldly goods while on earth, and now
I am undone.”

“All in this world is misery,” pursued the preacher: “sickness and

pain, fear and anxiety, old age and death, abound on every hand.
But hearken; God speaks from on high: ‘Children, why take ye
delight and seek happiness in that low village of mortality, that
thicket of briers and thorns? Look up to Me; I will deliver you and
give you rest, where you shall be for ever blessed and happy.’”
 CHAPTER XX.
DARK MEMORIES.
The mules having returned and had some hours’ rest, there was
nothing now which need delay the travellers’ departure from the
village; but Oscar wished to see a little more of the Karen apostle
before starting for Moulmein. After partaking of breakfast with his
wife, Mr. Coldstream quitted the hut, and went in search of Ko Thah
Byu. On inquiring where he could be found, one of the peasants
directed Coldstream to a small clump of bushes with the remark, “Ko
Thah Byu read—pray—alone.”

Though hesitating a little as to whether he should intrude on the

solitude of the Karen preacher, Oscar yet overcame his scruples, as
another opportunity for conversation with his preserver might not
occur. Coldstream found Ko Thah Byu seated on a large mossy
stone, with his Bible on his knee; he was in the act of closing the
holy book when the Englishman appeared, and the Karen rose to
meet him.

“I have not yet thanked you, as I now do from my heart,” said

Mr. Coldstream, “for my own preservation, and, far more, for that of
my wife. Only show me how I can prove my gratitude. Is there
anything that I can offer—”
 An expressive movement of the native’s brown hand, and a
contraction of his brow, made Mr. Coldstream pause. Oscar felt that
it would be as impossible to press gold on this moneyless Karen as
upon a European noble. It was scarcely necessary for Ko Thah Byu
to express his thoughts in words, though he did so with a native
dignity which gave them force. “Ko Thah Byu wants nothing from his
white brother. Ko Thah Byu did only his duty. Keep money for those
who need.”

“I should like to have a little conversation with you, my friend,”

said Mr. Coldstream, seating himself on the trunk of a felled tree
which happened to be near, and motioning to the Karen to resume
his former seat. “I should like to know something of your former
history; I desire to hear what it was that first led to God one whom
I regard as one of the noblest of men.”

“The noblest of men!” repeated Ko Thah Byu with an emphasis of

scorn that had in it something almost savage. “The sahib knows not
of whom he speaks. The noblest of men!” again repeated the Karen.
“A few summers past, if the demons of hell had been asked, ‘Who is
blacker than we? who should have a deeper place in the pit?’ the
demons would have clapped their hands and yelled out, ‘Ko Thah
Byu!’” Then the fierce expression on the Karen’s stern features
strangely softened, and his voice became soft as a woman’s as he
went on, “And now if the angels in heaven be asked, ‘Who should
praise most of all? who should wet Christ’s feet with most tears, and
kiss them with most exceeding great love?’ the angels would lift up
their hands and cry, ‘Ko Thah Byu! Ko Thah Byu! for he has been
most forgiven!’”

“Can this be so?” exclaimed Oscar Coldstream: “were you, before

your conversion, so much worse than other men?”

“In childhood Ko Thah Byu was wicked—ungovernable,” was the

reply. “The sapling was crooked, bent, and black; what could the
tree become? Even now Ko Thah Byu has in his heart a fierce wild
beast that is chained, but which too often breaks his chain, and then
men wonder that the Karen Christian should be so unlike his
Master.” 3

Coldstream looked at the Oriental’s rugged features and flashing

eyes, and could imagine how formidable his bursts of passion might
be if not tamed down and subdued by grace.

“Ko Thah Byu was a slave once,” pursued the Karen, “knowing
nothing—very dark—man’s slave and a slave of Satan. Padri Judson
set slave free from man’s bonds, but the worse bonds held him
tightly still. Ko Thah Byu then learned something of the good, but he
followed the bad. Got debt; Christian brother Ko Shway Bay paid
debt—took Ko Thah Byu as servant. But servant bad, very bad;
master could not keep such servant—sent him away. All men say Ko
Thah Byu no Christian, Ko Thah Byu got very black heart. But Good
Shepherd see that leopard could be turned into sheep; Christ could
change wild beast’s spots, Christ could put love in black dead heart.
The Lord caught Ko Thah Byu when sinner just dropping into hell—
over edge, falling down, down, down—Christ caught hold, and
saved, and pulled sinner up, and washed, and set upon Rock!” Tears
gushed from the Karen’s dark eyes as he told of redeeming love.

“You had fierce temper and evil habits,” observed Coldstream,

who was listening with intense interest to the tale of the convert;
“but you had perhaps never committed any great crime.”

“Many,” was the Karen’s reply, uttered with startling vehemence.

“God commands, No steal; Ko Thah Byu great robber. God
commands, Do no murder; Ko Thah Byu wound, stab, kill!”

“Did you kill a man?” exclaimed Oscar, starting to his feet from
emotion too strong to be repressed.

“Kill many men, more than these fingers thrice told,” was the
reply of Ko Thah Byu, as he stretched out his dark muscular hands.
 “And you yet found grace—a murderer found grace!” cried Oscar.

“Sahib, Christ’s blood wash even murderer white,” was the

earnest reply; “washed David, who sinned the murderer’s sin.
David’s song is Ko Thah Byu’s song, the history of Ko Thah Byu’s
life;” and with a fervour that appropriated every word as if it were a
spontaneous burst from his own heart, the Karen repeated the first
part of the thirty-second psalm, which fell on Oscar with all the force
of a new revelation:—Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord
imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile. While
I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day
long. For day and night Thy hand was heavy upon me: my moisture
is turned into the drought of summer. The Karen’s voice dropped, his
head drooped; he seemed again to feel the crushing pressure, the
wasting thirst of the soul, and was too much occupied with his own
memories to notice the effect of his words on his hearer. Then
raising his head again, and looking upwards with such a glance as
seemed to tell of heaven itself opening before him, Ko Thah Byu
went on with the psalm:—I acknowledged my sin unto Thee, and
mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions
unto the Lord; and Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.

For the first time since, when a boy, he had stood by a mother’s
grave, Oscar Coldstream was sobbing!

He started on hearing a step, and turned a few paces aside, that

no one might see his agitation. A Karen had come to call Ko Thah
Byu to the hut of a peasant taken suddenly ill. The evangelist
hastened to the place, and Oscar was left alone with his thoughts.
With his back turned towards the abodes of men, the Englishman
strode up and down, and the exclamation burst from his lips, “But
for Io, I would tell all, and find peace.”
 CHAPTER XXI.
CONFESSION.
“What would Oscar do but for Io? is it Io who keeps him from
peace?” A white trembling hand was on Coldstream’s arm, and he
turned to meet the wistful, pleading gaze of his wife, whose light
footstep he had not heard when she came to seek him. Her husband
could not reply.

“O Oscar—my life! there is some terrible secret which you would

keep even from me. You have done something—something wrong.
This is like a thorn in your conscience; you cannot find peace until it
is taken away.” Io unconsciously pressed very tightly the arm which
she grasped.

“I cannot take the thorn out of my own breast to plant it in

yours,” said her husband.

“I would welcome it, if my sorrow could give you peace,”

exclaimed Io. “Mine own, my beloved, tell me all; let me judge—let
your Io judge whether there is anything too painful for her to suffer,
if she can only help to remove from her Oscar this secret, terrible
pain. It is my desire—my entreaty—my right—at least to judge for
myself.”
 “Judge then, for you shall know all. I will hide nothing, even if
confession should rob me of my most precious possession—your
affection,” said Oscar gloomily, motioning to Io to sit down on the
large trunk, and then taking his place at her side. Io would have
rested her head on her husband’s breast, but he made a movement
to prevent her so doing. “Not now, not now,” murmured Oscar; “wait
till you have heard all.”

Io waited for several minutes till Oscar should break the silence
which followed. She felt somewhat as a wretch condemned to be
blown from a cannon might feel while awaiting the fatal explosion.
When Oscar spoke at last it was with rapid utterance, as if to
shorten suspense and pain.

“You remember our happiness at the time of our engagement—

happiness almost perfect, till one day I showed petulance, and cost
you the first tears which I ever saw you shed.”

“Yes,” replied Io sadly: “you were annoyed when Walter climbed

higher than yourself to bring a flower from a very steep place, and
I was foolish enough to put the flower in my hair. I was a silly, vain
child,” she added humbly. “It was new to me to be loved as you
loved me; I am afraid that I liked to tease, and show my power by
playing with your feelings.”

“A woman who does so plays with edge-tools,” muttered Oscar.

“But all was set right at once,” cried Io. “I convinced you that
I had never loved any man but yourself; that I merely amused
myself with poor Walter because he was my cousin, brought up in
the same nursery, and I liked his fun and his practical jokes. Surely
I quite convinced you, Oscar?”

“You did convince me, Io. I saw that I had been a jealous,
unreasonable fool. You and I were happy once more.”
 “And it was never possible that my unfortunate cousin could give
you a moment’s uneasiness again,” said Io. “He died about the time
of your return. Walter had made a foolish bet that he would climb an
inaccessible cliff; he failed—fell—and, alas! perished.”

“Walter did not fail, nor fall—till he was thrown down by these
accursed hands,” said Oscar abruptly. He dared not look at his wife
as he spoke; he could not have met her look of horror.

“Now you know why I could not lead the devotions of others,
why I dared not approach the Holy Table. Could I—wretch that I am
—offer up petitions with guilty lips, take the emblems of redeeming
love into a murderer’s blood-stained hand? No, I could not have so
played the hypocrite, or I might have been struck dead on the spot.”

“I cannot believe this frightful tale,” gasped Io; “you have been
dreaming it in some fit of delirium. Why should you injure my poor
cousin, from whom you parted in friendship, and whom you had not
even seen for two years?”

“You know the worst; now hear what may possibly extenuate a
little my madness—my guilt.” Oscar spoke in a calmer tone, for he
already felt something of relief from frank confession. “When
I started from Moulmein to return and claim you as my bride, I was
the happiest mortal on earth. Paradise seemed to open before me.
The first check to my joy came at Malta, where I found no letter
from Io.”

“The one which Thud detained told you why. My mother had
been suddenly taken with a fit; in my great anxiety for her dear life
I had forgotten the day for writing to Malta. But surely the missing
of one post need not have caused you much distress.”

“I was only somewhat troubled,” continued Oscar; “I thought that

my betrothed might be ill, I never thought that she could be false.
When the pilot met us in the Channel I made sure of a letter, and
was foremost in the throng that crowded to the vessel’s side to seize
on the contents of his bag. To my great disappointment there was
no letter for me in your familiar hand, only one in your cousin’s.
I tore that open with feverish haste: Walter would tell me whether
you were ill, perhaps—as my fears suggested—dying. There were
only two lines written in that fatal letter; they were branded on my
brain as with burning iron—‘Io is mine; I have won the prize.’”

“Oh, the poor foolish boy!” exclaimed Io. “He did not tell you that
he had given my name to his hunter, and that in a steeple-chase she
was first. I remember Walter’s saying to me that he had played on
you a practical joke.”

“A joke which cost the poor fellow his life, and has blasted mine,”
groaned Oscar. “The jealousy which I had deemed stifled for ever
suddenly blazed up within me, till my soul was as a furnace
sevenfold heated. When the Argus neared Dover pier I sprang out,
narrowly missing falling into the sea—spectators must have thought
me mad. Would that I had been drowned, and so had never lived to
look on him whom I hated! I determined to see you at once, and
learn the whole truth from your lips. I hurried along the shortest
path, that at the top of the cliffs, so often trodden with you. As
I passed on I heard a voice gasp out my name; I saw two hands
grasping the ground not two yards from the path, and I saw the
head of the climber who had just reached the top of the cliff. The
face had the flush caused by violent physical effort, but I deemed it
the flush of triumph. It was Walter’s face; he had just breath enough
left to cry, ‘I’ve won!’ Those were his last words. For a moment
I appeared to be possessed by a demon—I was possessed, for I did
the deed of which I repented even before I heard the sound of the
crash below.”

Io hid her face in her hands and shuddered.

“Then on I sped—a second Cain—resolved but on one thing—to

see you, to tax you with your perfidy, and then—I knew not what
would follow. You met me with open arms and a cry of delight. You
know the rest. For me there is memory of nothing but a kind of
hideous dream, till—I know not how long afterwards—you laid
before me that letter which proved that you had always been true,
and that I had been not only a villain but a fool. Io, for some time
I felt that I could not offer you a murderer’s hand; that I should fly
from you and the world. Then your altered circumstances, and your
mother’s, made me change my mind. I might still give you a
husband’s protection, more than a husband’s love, and you should
never know that marriage had linked you to one whom you might
justly abhor. Io, do you not hate me?”

Io’s only reply was throwing herself on her husband’s breast, with
her arms clinging round his neck. Oscar’s confession, made at cost
of so much shame and anguish, made him seem dearer than ever.

“Oscar, I love you, oh so fondly! God loves you too, and He will
forgive. Remember the thief on the cross.”

“He confessed and found mercy, but it was from a cross,” said
Oscar Coldstream. “I have not yet taken up mine; I have shunned it
—I shun it still.”

“What do you mean?” cried Io, raising her head; “you have
confessed, and fully. You are not a Romanist; you look not for
priestly absolution.”

“Io, I have not only broken God’s law, but the laws of my
country. Justice demands a victim. My cross is to let the world know
my guilt, publicly to confess my crime and accept its penalty, even
should it be a death of shame. Nothing less than this can give to a
guilty conscience peace. You have said that it is your desire—your
right—to judge; judge then what course should I take. I leave the
decision in the hands of my wife.”

“I cannot judge, I cannot think—my brain turns round,” faltered

Io, her white lips with difficulty uttering the words, while she pressed
her head with both her hands.
 “Sahib, all ready for starting.” How strangely the native servant’s
commonplace announcement broke on the terrible stillness which
had followed the exclamation of Io.

Mrs. Coldstream started to her feet. “Let us go, let us go quickly!”

she cried wildly; “let us leave this terrible spot! I must have time to
think—time to pray. I will give you my answer—to-morrow!”
 CHAPTER XXII.
HOME AGAIN.
Io’s yearning was for quietness and solitude, but in the village
neither was now to be found. The Karens, smiling, and with little
offerings in their hands, came to see the white travellers start. There
were crying babies and laughing children, quiet girls and noisy boys,
such as are always to be expected in a mixed crowd. Several women
came with their palms pressed together, as if preferring a request.
One bowed down almost to the ground, so as to touch the lady’s
feet. There was a good deal of talking, apparently addressed to Io;
but her senses were so bewildered by the late shock, that she could
not take in a single word. Io looked helplessly at her husband for an
explanation.

“They are begging you to leave Maha with them, my love. The
woman says that she has lost her only child, and desires to adopt
Maha as her daughter. I have spoken to Ko Thah Byu, who gives to
the widow a high character for piety.”

The object of the petition was mutely standing by with her hands
clasped, and her dark eyes watching the face of her mistress.
 “Does Maha wish to stay here?” asked Io. She spoke in English,
and Oscar translated the question.

“These are Karens, mine own people,” replied Maha, with a

wistful glance at the widow; “and she is so like my dead mother.”

“Would it pain you to part with your protégée, my Io?” asked

Oscar.

“Pain? no, nothing pains now, but—” She paused, and pressed
her hand on her heart. Io was somewhat like the poor victim broken
on the wheel, who, after the first crushing blow had paralyzed
sensation, mocked at the idea of any other stroke having power to
hurt.

Oscar hastily completed the arrangement, and then, turning

towards Ko Thah Byu, warmly grasped his brown hand.

“You have done much for me—more than you know, my brother,”
said the Englishman to the Karen. “You have helped to release me
from bonds which I believed would have bound me for ever.”

It was a relief to the Coldstreams when Mouang was left behind,

though Maha and others followed Io’s litter for more than a mile, the
Karen girl weeping bitterly at parting from the mistress whom she
honoured and loved. At length the last farewell was said, and Io felt
alone; for Oscar dropped behind the litter, respecting his wife’s wish
for absolute silence—a wish which, after the excitement of the
morning, he fully shared. Io closed her eyes to shut out all sights,
but the mind’s eye could not be closed. The less she saw the more
she thought. The face of poor Walter, her childhood’s companion,
continually rose before her! It was some comfort to her now, as it
had been when she had first heard of his sudden death, that her
merry hare-brained young cousin had had serious thoughts on
religion; that with all his giddiness he had received the truth with the
simple faith of a child. Io would not have had this comfort had her
brother been the one to be suddenly taken.
 The halting-place for the night was reached at last, where the
little tent was already pitched, the fire lighted, the meal prepared.
Coldstream avoided any allusion to painful subjects as he sat beside
his pale wife, and helped her to food which Io in vain attempted to
eat. Coldstream related all that he had heard from Ko Thah Byu of
the Karen’s former life; and Io, though she made no comment on
the strange tale, readily understood what influence it had had on the
mind of her husband.

The lady early laid herself down to rest, but not to sleep.
Feverish and restless Io remained through what appeared to be an
almost interminable night. If a few minutes of slumber came, they
were rendered horrible by dreams in which the terrible tragedy of
the cliff was acted over again. But Oscar was able to sleep; his wife
marvelled to see how calmly he rested. The cause of this was partly
physical fatigue and reaction after a violent inward struggle, but
partly that his confession to his wife had in some measure relieved
his conscience. He had taken the first step—or rather desperate leap
—under the weight of the cross which he had at last dared to take
up.

Day dawned, and with it came the morning’s preparations, the

morning’s start.

“Oscar, will you arrange that we do not reach Moulmein till quite
after dark?” said Io, as she took her place in the litter. “The moon
does not rise now so early. I wish no one to know of our arrival.
I could not endure to-day to meet Thud or the doctor.”

“There is no fear of our meeting till to-morrow morning,” replied

Oscar. “All the English residents of Moulmein were invited to spend
this Thursday evening at a fête given by the rajah.”

“Thursday! I thought that this was Saturday,” said Io dreamily. “It

seems as if this week would never come to an end.”
 It was not till after dark that the Coldstreams reached their
home, where they were expected by no one. All their servants,
except one lame old man, had gone to see the rajah’s fireworks. No
fires were lighted in the compound, no lamp in the dwelling. It was
with some difficulty that even the door was opened to receive the
master of the house. The furniture was in the holland wrappings in
which Io had left her things when expecting to be absent for weeks.
It was a dreary coming home, but more congenial to sad feelings
than a cheerful greeting would have been.

“I will go to rest at once,” said Io. Nature was demanding sleep;

after the last two terrible nights the lady could scarcely keep her
eyes open.

“Shall we first pray together?” suggested Oscar.

Blessed rift in the dark, dark cloud! Oscar could at last kneel
down by the side of his wife and pray aloud. And what a prayer was
his! It seemed to be poured out at the feet of a Saviour in visible
presence—a pleading, imploring prayer for mercy on the guiltiest of
the guilty. But it was a prayer uttered in faith and hope—faith that
there is indeed a Fountain to wash away sin; hope that its stain had
already been removed from a penitent’s soul. The sinner was
prostrate indeed, but, like Saul of Tarsus, in deep humility, not in
despair. Io drank in each word of the prayer. It refreshed her, it
strengthened her, while it made her tears flow fast. When the
supplication was ended, the “Amen” came from her lips with a sob.

Then the husband and wife arose from their knees. Oscar knew
that the mail for Calcutta would start on the morrow, and Io had
promised to give her answer on the day which had now passed into
night.

“What would you have me do now, my beloved?” Oscar inquired,

taking the hand of his wife.
 Io knew what he meant. “Whatever you think right,” was the
faltered reply.

The husband pressed a long, tender kiss on Io’s cold brow. Not
another word passed between them. Io went to her own room, and
Coldstream retired to his study.

Seated in that study, Oscar wrote a brief but full account of his
crime in an official letter addressed to Government House. He
omitted nothing, except the cause of the hatred which he owned
that he had felt towards his unfortunate victim; he made not the
slightest reference to his wife. Oscar wrote with a strange calmness
which was to himself a matter of surprise. He then lighted a taper
and sealed up his document, placed it in his desk, which he locked,
read awhile in his Bible, and then retired to rest.
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