CONSECRATION TO MISSIONARY LIFE.
1809-1812.
In September, 1809, young Judson, at the age of twenty-one, began to
ponder seriously the subject of Foreign Missions. He had just finished
his first year of study at Andover; another year of the theological
course remained. At this time there fell into his hands a sermon
preached in the parish church of Bristol, England, by Dr. Claudius
Buchanan, who had for many years been a chaplain to the British East
India Company. The sermon was entitled, “The Star in the East,” and had
for its text Matt. ii. 2: “For we have seen His Star in the East, and
are come to worship Him.” The leading thought of the sermon was the
Evidences of the Divine Power of the Christian Religion in the East. Dr.
Buchanan described the progress of the Gospel in India, and especially
the labors of the venerable German missionary, Schwartz. This sermon
fell like a spark into the tinder of Judson’s soul.
In a letter written many years afterward, he says:
“Though I do not now consider that sermon as peculiarly excellent, it
produced a very powerful effect on my mind. For some days I was unable
to attend to the studies of my class, and spent my time in wondering
at my past stupidity, depicting the most romantic scenes in missionary
life, and roving about the college rooms declaiming on the subject of
missions. My views were very incorrect, and my feelings extravagant;
but yet I have always felt thankful to God for bringing me into that
state of excitement, which was perhaps necessary, in the first
instance, to enable me to break the strong attachment I felt to home
and country, and to endure the thought of abandoning all my wonted
pursuits and animating prospects. That excitement soon passed away;
but it left a strong desire to prosecute my inquiries and ascertain
the path of duty. It was during a solitary walk in the woods behind
the college, while meditating and praying on the subject, and feeling
half inclined to give it up, that the command of Christ, ‘Go into all
the world and preach the Gospel to every creature,’ was presented to
my mind with such clearness and power, that I came to a full decision,
and though great difficulties appeared in my way, resolved to obey the
command at all events.”
Six months elapsed from the time of his reading Buchanan’s “Star in the
East” before he made the final resolve to become a missionary to the
heathen. This was in February, 1810. He was, no doubt, stimulated to
form this purpose by close contact with several other young men of like
aspirations. When a man is rocking in the trough of the sea of
indecision, it is very reassuring to have his interior conviction
matched by an external Providence. His earliest missionary associate was
Samuel Nott, Jr., who entered the Seminary early in the year 1810, and
was even then weighing the question whether he should devote himself to
the work of carrying the Gospel to the heathen. About the same time
there came to Andover four young men from Williams College—Samuel J.
Mills, Jr., James Richards, Luther Rice, and Gordon Hall. While in
college these students had formed a missionary society, and they were
accustomed to meet together at night beneath a haystack near the college
grounds. At Williamstown, on the spot where now stands the famous
Haystack Monument, these young men consecrated themselves to the work of
Foreign Missions, and poured out their fervent prayers for the
conversion of the world; and this green nook among the Berkshire hills
may well be called the birthplace of American Foreign Missions.
As great scientific discoveries have seemed to spring up almost
simultaneously in the minds of independent and widely-separated
thinkers, sometimes engendering a strife as to the original discoverer,
so this grand thought of evangelizing the heathen seems to have been in
the atmosphere, and to have floated at almost the same time into the
hearts of different young men living far apart. Christian society was
like a field which, having been ploughed and sown, has folded up in its
bosom a potency of growth. Judson and his associates were like the first
green shoots, scattered far and wide, that appear above the ground and
promise to be followed by countless others. It was after long meditation
and prayer, and in communion with kindred glowing spirits, that the
thought in Judson’s mind of consecrating himself to the foreign
missionary work became a fixed purpose.
There were many obstacles in the way. He was not going among the heathen
because he could not find suitable employment at home. He had received a
tutor’s appointment in Brown University and had declined it. The Rev.
Dr. Griffin had proposed him as his colleague in “the largest church in
Boston.” “And you will be so near home,” his mother said. “No!” was his
reply, “I shall never live in Boston. I have much farther than that to
go.” The ambitious hopes of his father were overthrown; and his mother
and sister shed many regretful tears. He did not go abroad because he
was not wanted at home.
“In the spring
And glory of his being he went forth
From the embraces of devoted friends,
From ease and quiet happiness.... He went forth
Strengthen’d to suffer—gifted to subdue
The might of human passion—to pass on
Quietly to the sacrifice of all
The lofty hopes of boyhood, and to turn
The high ambition written on that brow,
From its first dream of power and human fame,
Unto a task of seeming lowliness—
Yet God-like in his purpose.”[4]
It is a mistake to suppose that a dull and second-rate man is good
enough for the heathen. The worst-off need the very best we have. God
gave His best, even His only-begotten Son, in order to redeem a lost
world. The most darkened and degraded souls need the best thinking. When
our Blessed Lord was presenting His Gospel to a fallen Samaritan woman,
He seems to have preserved His best thought for her; and in order to
make a bad woman good, utters in her ears the most august philosophical
thesis to be found in any tongue: “God is a Spirit, and they that
worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth.” Missions have had
their grandest successes when England’s best scholars, like Bishop
Patteson and Bishop Selwyn, have devoted their splendid talents to the
conversion of the fiercest and the lowest savages of Micronesia and New
Zealand. It would be a sad day for American Christians if they should
ever deserve Nehemiah’s reproach: “Their nobles put not their necks to
the work of their Lord.” Christianity will advance over the earth with
long, swift strides when the churches are ready to send their best men,
and the best men are ready to go.
Judson fully appreciated the dangers and hardships of a missionary life.
He seems to have counted the cost. After one of the battles in the
Franco-Prussian war, the German Emperor, William, had his attention
drawn to one of the wounded soldiers on the field. The King held out his
hand to the powder-stained private, and asked him what his trade was.
The man said, “I am a Doctor of Philosophy, your Majesty.” “Well, you
must have learned to bear your wounds philosophically,” said the King.
“Yes,” replied the soldier, “that I had already made up my mind to.”
Young Judson, before he had resolved to be a missionary, had _made up
his mind to_ the sufferings and privations which he well knew were in
store for him. He thus wrote to Mr. Hasseltine, of Bradford, when asking
for his daughter’s hand:
“I have now to ask whether you can consent to part with your daughter
early next spring, to see her no more in this world? whether you can
consent to her departure to a heathen land, and her subjection to the
hardships and sufferings of a missionary life? whether you can consent
to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean; to the fatal influence of
the southern climate of India; to every kind of want and distress; to
degradation, insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death? Can you
consent to all this, for the sake of Him who left His heavenly home
and died for her and for you; for the sake of perishing, immortal
souls; for the sake of Zion and the glory of God? Can you consent to
all this, in hope of soon meeting your daughter in the world of glory,
with a crown of righteousness brightened by the acclamations of praise
which shall redound to her Saviour from heathens saved, through her
means, from eternal woe and despair?”
These same anticipations of missionary sorrows pervade a pathetic letter
written by him to Miss Ann Hasseltine, during the period of their
betrothal:
“_January 1, 1811._ Tuesday Morn.
“It is with the utmost sincerity, and with my whole heart, that I wish
you, my love, a happy new year. May it be a year in which your walk
will be close with God; your frame calm and serene; and the road that
leads you to the Lamb marked with purer light. May it be a year in
which you will have more largely the spirit of Christ, be raised above
sublunary things, and be willing to be disposed of in this world just
as God shall please. As every moment of the year will bring you nearer
the end of your pilgrimage, may it bring you nearer to God, and find
you more prepared to hail the messenger of death as a deliverer and a
friend. And now, since I have begun to wish, I will go on. May this be
the year in which you will change your name; in which you will take a
final leave of your relatives and native land; in which you will cross
the wide ocean, and dwell on the other side of the world, among a
heathen people. What a great change will this year probably effect in
our lives! How very different will be our situation and employment! If
our lives are preserved and our attempt prospered, we shall next new
year’s day be in India, and perhaps wish each other a happy new year
in the uncouth dialect of Hindostan or Burmah. We shall no more see
our kind friends around us, or enjoy the conveniences of civilized
life, or go to the house of God with those that keep holy day; but
swarthy countenances will everywhere meet our eye, the jargon of an
unknown tongue will assail our ears, and we shall witness the
assembling of the heathen to celebrate the worship of idol gods. We
shall be weary of the world, and wish for wings like a dove, that we
may fly away and be at rest. We shall probably experience seasons when
we shall be ‘exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.’ We shall see many
dreary, disconsolate hours, and feel a sinking of spirits, anguish of
mind, of which now we can form little conception. O, we shall wish to
lie down and die. And that time may soon come. One of us may be unable
to sustain the heat of the climate and the change of habits; and the
other may say, with literal truth, over the grave—
“‘By foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed;
By foreign hands thy decent limbs composed;
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorned;’
but whether we shall be honored and mourned by strangers, God only
knows. At least, either of us will be certain of _one_ mourner. In
view of such scenes shall we not pray with earnestness, ‘O for an
overcoming faith,’ etc.?”
But what steps did he and his young associates take in order to execute
their sublime purpose? There was at that time no foreign missionary
society in America to which they could offer their services, and which
would undertake their support in the foreign field.
There was, indeed, the Massachusetts Missionary Society, founded in
1799, the object of which was to diffuse a missionary spirit among the
Congregational churches in New England, and to carry the Gospel to the
Indians and to the newly-settled parts of our own land. But this Society
had not yet launched upon the work of foreign missions; and so Mr.
Judson, and the young men who shared his purpose, first proposed to each
other to enlist as missionaries under the London Missionary Society.
Accordingly Mr. Judson wrote the following letter to the venerable Dr.
Bogue, the President of the Seminary in Gosport, England, where the
missionaries of the London Society received their training:
“DIVINITY COLLEGE, ANDOVER, MASS., _April, 1810_.
“REV. SIR: I have considered the subject of missions nearly a year,
and have found my mind gradually tending to a deep conviction that it
is my duty personally to engage in this service. Several of my
brethren of this college may finally unite with me in my present
resolution. On their as well as my own behalf, I take the liberty of
addressing you this letter. My object is to obtain information on
certain points—whether there is at present such a call for
missionaries in India, Tartary, or any part of the _Eastern_ Continent
as will induce the directors of the London Missionary Society to
engage new missionaries; whether two or three young, unmarried men,
having received a liberal education, and resided two years in this
Divinity School, wishing to serve their Saviour in a heathen land, and
indeed susceptible of a ‘_passion for missions_,’—whether such young
men, arriving in England next spring, with full recommendations from
the first Christian characters in this country, may expect to be
received _on probation_ by the directors, and placed at the seminary
in Gosport, _if that be judged expedient_; and whether, provided they
give satisfaction as to their fitness to undertake the work, all their
necessary expenses after arriving in England shall be defrayed from
the funds of the Society, which funds will, it is hoped, be ultimately
reimbursed by supplies from the American churches.
“We have consulted our professors on this subject, particularly Dr.
Griffin, Professor of Oratory. He intends writing to several in
England, and perhaps to Dr. Bogue. But his engagements being such as
will prevent his writing at present, and wishing _myself_ to receive a
letter from you _immediately_, containing the desired information, I
have written myself. I close with an earnest request that you will
please to transmit me an answer as soon as possible, and a prayer that
your answer may be favorable to my most ardent wishes.
“ADONIRAM JUDSON, JR.
“P. S.—I shall deem it a favor if you do not confine your remarks to
the points which I have proposed, but are pleased to give such general
_information_ and _advice_ as you may think will be useful to me and
my brethren.”
While awaiting a reply to this letter, these devoted students made their
desires known to their teachers in the Seminary and to several
influential ministers in the vicinity. The professors and ministers met
for consultation on the matter at the house of Prof. Stuart in Andover,
on Monday, June 25, 1810.
These wise and conservative men advised the students to submit their
case to the General Association, a body representing all the
Congregational churches of the State of Massachusetts, and which was to
meet at Bradford the next day.
Accordingly, on June 27, the students laid before the Association the
following letter:
“The undersigned, members of the Divinity College, respectfully
request the attention of their reverend fathers, convened in the
General Association at Bradford, to the following statement and
inquiries:
“They beg leave to state that their minds have been long impressed
with the duty and importance of personally attempting a mission to the
heathen; that the impressions on their minds have induced a serious,
and, as they trust, a prayerful consideration of the subject in its
various attitudes, particularly in relation to the probable success
and the difficulties attending such an attempt; and that, after
examining all the information which they can obtain, _they consider
themselves as devoted to this work for life_, whenever God, in His
providence, shall open the way.
“They now offer the following inquiries, on which they solicit the
opinion and advice of this Association: Whether, with their present
views and feelings, they ought to renounce the object of missions, as
either visionary or impracticable; if not, whether they ought to
direct their attention to the Eastern or the Western world; whether
they may expect patronage and support from a missionary society in
this country, or must commit themselves to the direction of a European
society; and what preparatory measures they ought to take previous to
actual engagement.
“The undersigned, feeling their youth and inexperience, look up to
their fathers in the Church, and respectfully solicit their advice,
direction, and prayers.
“ADONIRAM JUDSON, JR.
“SAMUEL NOTT, JR.
“SAMUEL J. MILLS.
“SAMUEL NEWELL.”
The names of Luther Rice and James Richards were originally appended to
this petition, but had been stricken out “for fear of alarming the
Association with too large a number.”
The General Association, when they came to act upon this petition,
passed the following resolutions:
“_Voted_, That there be instituted by this General Association, a
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, for the purpose of
devising ways and means, and adopting and prosecuting measures, for
promoting the spread of the Gospel in heathen lands.
“_Voted_, That the said Board of Commissioners consist of nine
members, all of them, in the first instance, chosen by this
Association; and afterwards, annually, five of them by this body, and
four of them by the General Association of Connecticut. Provided,
however, that if the General Association of Connecticut do not choose
to unite in this object, the annual election of all the commissioners
shall be by this General Association.
“It is understood that the Board of Commissioners, here contemplated,
will adopt their own form of organization, and their own rules and
regulations.
“_Voted_, That, fervently commending them to the grace of God, we
advise the young gentlemen, whose request is before us, in the way of
earnest prayer and diligent attention to suitable studies and means of
information, and putting themselves under the patronage and direction
of the Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, humbly to wait the
openings and guidance of Providence in respect to their great and
excellent design.”
Thus was organized the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign
Missions, a society widely known and justly revered at the present day
as the missionary organ of the Congregational churches of America, and
indeed the mother of American foreign missionary societies.
The nine men originally forming this Board distrusted their ability to
support in the foreign field those who had offered their services. They
feared that the missionary sentiment among the churches of New England
was hardly strong enough, as yet, to undertake so great an enterprise;
and so they turned instinctively to their brethren in England,
represented in the London Missionary Society, for aid and co-operation.
They accordingly sent Mr. Judson to England to ascertain whether such
co-operation would be agreeable to the London Society.
The English directors gave Mr. Judson a most courteous and affectionate
greeting, but a joint conduct of the missions did not seem practicable
to them. They were willing to receive and support Mr. Judson and his
associates as their own missionaries, but did not feel disposed to admit
the American Board to a participation with them in the direction of the
work. Such co-operation might occasion complications, and they wisely
thought that American Christians were able to take care of their own
missionaries.
[Illustration:
_J. Morris Pinc^t._ _Alex. Cameron Sculpt._
REV^D. ADONIRAM JUDSON _JUN^R. A.M._
_Missionary to the East._
_Taken in the 23^d Æ t AD1811._
]
Mr. Judson embarked for England January 11, 1811, on the English ship
_Packet_. She was captured on the way by a French privateer, and so he
was subjected to imprisonment and compulsory detention in France. On the
6th of May he arrived in London, and on the 18th of June he embarked at
Gravesend, in the ship _Augustus_, bound for New York, where he arrived
on the 17th of August. Some interesting reminiscences of this voyage to
England have been preserved by the pen of Mrs. E. C. Judson:
“There were on the ship _Packet_ two Spanish merchants; and these, I
believe, were the only passengers beside Mr. Judson. When they were
captured by _L’Invincible Napoleon_, these two gentlemen, being able
to speak French, and most likely to furnish a bribe, were treated very
civilly. Mr. Judson, however, was very young, with nothing distinctive
in his outward appearance, and was, moreover, speechless, friendless,
and comparatively moneyless. He was, without question or remonstrance,
immediately placed in the hold, with the common sailors. This was the
first hardship he had ever known, and it affected him accordingly. He
shrank from the associations of the place, and the confined air seemed
unendurable. Soon the weather roughened, and he, together with several
of his more hardy companions, became excessively seasick. The doctor
visited him every day, but he could not communicate with him, and the
visit was nearly useless. Sick, sorrowful, and discouraged, his
thoughts went back to his dear old Plymouth home, then to Bradford,
and finally the Boston church—‘the biggest church in Boston’; and he
became alarmed at the strange feeling that crept over him. It was the
first moment of misgiving he had known. As soon as he became aware of
the feeling, he commenced praying against it, as a temptation of the
adversary. It seemed to him that God had permitted this capture, and
all his trouble, as a trial of his faith; and he resolved, in the
strength of God, to bear it, as he might be called upon to bear
similar trials hereafter. As soon as he had come to this resolution,
he fumbled about in the gray twilight of his prison, till he succeeded
in finding his Hebrew Bible. The light was very faint, but still he
managed to see for a few moments at a time, and amused himself with
translating mentally from the Hebrew to the Latin—a work which
employed his thoughts, and saved his eyes. One day the doctor,
observing the Bible on the pillow, took it up, stepped toward the
gangway, and examined it; then returned, and addressed his patient in
Latin. Through the medium of this language Mr. Judson managed to
explain who he was; and he was consequently admitted to a berth in the
upper cabin, and a seat with his fellow-passengers, the Spaniards, at
the captain’s table.
“His second day on deck was a somewhat exciting one. A sail was
reported from the masthead; and while the stranger was yet a mere
speck to the naked eye, many glasses were levelled curiously at her,
and a general feeling of anxiety seemed to prevail among the officers.
Of course, Mr. Judson was all excitement; for although he was now in
comfortable circumstances, he dreaded the effect of this detention on
his mission to England. Finally the stranger loomed up against the
sky, a beautiful brig under a full press of canvas. As they watched
her, some anxiously and some admiringly, suddenly her fine proportions
became blended in a dark mass; and it was evident to the most
inexperienced landsman that she had changed her course. The two
Spaniards exchanged significant glances. Mr. Judson felt very much
like shouting for joy, but he suppressed the inclination; and the next
moment the order came for the decks to be cleared, and he, with his
companions, was sent below. The Spaniards informed him that they were
pursued by a vessel much larger than their own; that the privateer had
little to hope in an engagement, but she was the swifter sailer of the
two, and the approaching darkness was in her favor. Mr. Judson passed
a sleepless night, listening each moment for unusual sounds; but the
next morning, when he carefully swept the horizon with the captain’s
glass, not a mote was visible.
“The privateer touched at Le Passage, in Spain, and there permitted
the two Spaniards to go on shore. From thence the prisoners were
conveyed to Bayonne, in France; and Mr. Judson again, to his surprise
and indignation, found himself marched through the streets in company
with the crew of the _Packet_. He had as yet acquired only a few words
of French, and of these he made as much use as possible, to the
infinite amusement of the passers-by. Finally it occurred to him that
he was much more likely to meet some person, either a native or a
foreigner, who understood English, than to make his broken French
intelligible. Accordingly he commenced declaiming in the most violent
manner possible against oppression in general, and this one act in
particular. The guards threatened him by gestures, but did not proceed
to violence; and of the passers-by, some regarded him a moment
carelessly, others show little interest or curiosity, while many
laughed outright at his seemingly senseless clamors. Finally a
stranger accosted him in English, advising him to lower his voice.
‘With the greatest pleasure possible,’ he answered, ‘if I have at last
succeeded in making myself heard. I was only clamoring for a
listener.’ ‘You might have got one you would have been glad to
dismiss, if you had continued much longer,’ was the reply. In a few
hurried words Judson explained his situation, and, in words as few,
learned that the gentleman was an American from Philadelphia, and
received his promise of assistance. ‘But you had better go on your way
quietly now,’ added his new friend. ‘O, I will be a perfect lamb,
since I have gained my object.’
“The prison was a gloomy-looking, massive structure, and the apartment
into which they were conveyed was underground, dark and dismal. In the
centre was a sort of column, on which burned a solitary lamp, though
without it was still broad day. Around the walls a quantity of straw
had been spread, on which his companions soon made themselves at home;
but Mr. Judson could not divest himself of the idea that the straw was
probably not fresh, and busied his imagination with images of those
who had last occupied it. The weather had seemed almost oppressively
hot above-ground; but now he shivered with the chilling dampness of
the place, while the confined air and mouldy smell rendered him sick
and giddy. He paced up and down the cell, he could not tell how long,
but it seemed many hours, wondering if his new friend would really
come; and again, if he did not, whether he could keep upon his feet
all night; and in case of failure, which part of the straw he should
select as the least loathsome. And then his thoughts would wander off
again to Plymouth, and to Bradford, and to the ‘biggest church in
Boston,’ but not with the feeling that he had before. On the contrary,
he wondered that he ever could have been discouraged. He knew that at
most his imprisonment could not last long. If he only had a chair, or
the meanest stool, that was all he would ask. But he could not hope to
walk or stand long.
“While leaning against the column for a moment’s rest, the door of the
cell opened, and he instantly recognized the American he had seen in
the street. He suppressed a cry of joy, and seeing that the stranger
did not look at him, though he stood close by the lamp, tried himself
to affect indifference. The American making some remark in French,
took up the lamp, and then adding (or perhaps translating) in English,
‘Let me see if I know any of these poor fellows,’ passed around the
room, examining them carelessly. ‘No; no friend of mine,’ said he,
replacing the lamp, and swinging his great military cloak around Mr.
Judson, whose slight figure was almost lost in its ample folds.
Comprehending the plan, Mr. Judson drew himself into as small a
compass as possible, thinking that he would make the best of the
affair, though having little confidence in the clumsy artifice. His
protector, too, seemed to have his doubts, for, as he passed out, he
slid some money into the jailer’s hand, and again, at the gate, made
another disbursement, and as soon as they were outside, released his
protégé, with the expressive words, ‘Now run!’ Mr. Judson quite forgot
his fatigue from walking in the cell, as he fleetly followed his tall
conductor through the streets to the wharf, where he was placed on
board an American merchantman for the night. The next evening his
friend returned, informing him that his place of refuge had been only
temporarily chosen, and as the papers necessary to his release could
not be procured immediately, he would be much safer in the attic of a
shipbuilder, who had kindly offered this place of concealment.
Accordingly he removed to the attic, from which, after a few days, he
was released on parole.
“Mr. Judson passed about six weeks in Bayonne, boarding with an
American lady who had spent most of her life in France. He told his
landlady that he was a clergyman, and frequently held long religious
conversations with her; but he did not permit his character to be
known generally in the house, as he thought it would interfere with a
plan he had of learning as much as possible of the real state of
French society. He attended various places of amusement with his
fellow-boarders, pleading his ignorance of the language and customs of
the country as an excuse for acting the spectator merely; and in
general giving such evasive replies as enabled him to act his part
without attracting undue attention. It was not long, however, before
his companions became pretty well aware that indifference formed no
part of his real character. His shrewdness was at variance with his
implied ignorance of the world, and his simplicity sometimes wore a
solemn impressiveness, from the influence of which it was impossible
to escape. The last place of amusement he visited was a masked ball;
and here his strong feelings quite overcame his caution, and he burst
forth in his real character. He declared to his somewhat startled
companions that he did not believe the infernal regions could furnish
more complete specimens of depravity than he there beheld. He spoke in
English, and at first addressed himself to the two or three standing
near him, who understood the language; but his earnestness of manner
and warmth of expression soon drew around him a large circle, who
listened curiously and with apparent respect. He spoke scornfully of
the proud professions of the (so called) philosophy of the age, and
pointed to the fearful exhibitions of that moment as illustrative of
its effectiveness. He rapidly enumerated many of the evils which
infidelity had brought upon France and upon the world, and then showed
the only way of escape from those evils—the despised but truly
ennobling religion of Jesus Christ. Finally he sketched the character
of man as it might have been in its original purity and nobleness, and
then the wreck of soul and body to be ascribed to sin, and wound up
all by a personal appeal to such as had not become too debased to
think and feel. He had warmed as he proceeded with his subject, noting
with pain and surprise the great number of those who seemed to
understand the English language, and drawing from it an inference by
no means favorable to his travelled countrymen. Most of the maskers
evidently regarded the exhibition as a part of the evening’s
entertainment; but those who understood his remarks seemed confounded
by the boldness, and perhaps unexpectedness, of the attack, and when
he had finished, stood aside, and allowed him to pass from the place
without a word. This incident, I have been told, was reported by some
person present on the occasion, and published in a Boston newspaper.
“Mr. Judson, I do not recollect by what means, was introduced to some
of the officers of Napoleon’s suite, and travelled through the country
in one of the emperor’s carriages. At Paris, he spent most of his time
in the society of these officers, and persons whom they introduced,
and, in general, pursued the same course as at Bayonne. In view of the
opportunity thus afforded for observation, and the store of practical
knowledge really gathered, he always regarded his detention in France
as a very important, and, indeed, necessary part of his preparation
for the duties which afterward devolved upon him.
“In England he was received in a manner peculiarly flattering. He was
at this time small and exceedingly delicate in figure, with a round,
rosy face, which gave him the appearance of extreme youthfulness. His
hair and eyes were of a dark shade of brown, in his French passport
described as ‘chestnut.’ His voice, however, was far from what would
be expected of such a person, and usually took the listeners by
surprise. An instance of this occurred in London. He sat in the pulpit
with a clergyman somewhat distinguished for his eccentricity, and at
the close of the sermon was requested to read a hymn. When he had
finished, the clergyman arose, and introduced his young brother to the
congregation as a person who purposed devoting himself to the
conversion of the heathen, adding, ‘And if his faith is proportioned
to his voice, he will drive the devil from all India.’”
Soon after Mr. Judson returned to America, on the 18th of September,
1811, the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions met at
Worcester, Mass., and advised him and his associates not to place
themselves at present under the direction of the London Missionary
Society. It was also voted that “Messrs. Adoniram Judson, Jr., Samuel
Nott, Jr., Samuel Newell, and Gordon Hall be appointed missionaries to
labor under the direction of this Board in Asia, either in the Burman
Empire, or in Surat, or in Prince of Wales Island, or elsewhere, as, in
the view of the Prudential Committee, Providence shall open the most
favorable door.” Thus the way was opened for Mr. Judson to realize his
ardent desire to become a missionary to the heathen.
But he was not to go alone, for he was already betrothed to Miss Ann
Hasseltine. They met for the first time on the memorable occasion
already described, when, in June, 1810, the General Association held its
session at Bradford, and young Judson and his fellow-students modestly
made known their desires to attempt a mission to the heathen.
The story is told that during the sessions the ministers gathered for a
dinner beneath Mr. Hasseltine’s hospitable roof. His youngest daughter,
Ann, was waiting on the table. Her attention was attracted to the young
student, whose bold missionary projects were making such a stir. But
what was her surprise to observe, as she moved about the table, that he
seemed completely absorbed in his plate! Little did she dream that she
had already woven her spell about his young heart, and that he was at
that very time composing a graceful stanza in her praise.
She was born in Bradford, December 22, 1789, and was about a year
younger than Mr. Judson. Her parents were John and Rebecca Hasseltine.
She had an ardent, active, even restless temperament; so that her mother
once reproved her in childhood with the ominous words, “I hope, my
daughter, you will one day be satisfied with rambling.” She was educated
at the Bradford Academy, and was a beautiful girl, characterized by
great vivacity of spirits and intensely fond of society. In fact, she
was so reckless in her gayety, and so far overtopped her young
companions in mirth, that they feared she would have but a brief life,
and be suddenly cut off.
At the age of sixteen she received her first deep religious impression.
“One Sabbath morning,” she writes, “having prepared myself to attend
public worship, just as I was leaving my toilet, I accidentally took
up Hannah More’s ‘Strictures on Female Education,’ and the first words
that caught my eye were, ‘_She that liveth in pleasure is dead while
she liveth_.’ They were written in italics, with marks of admiration;
and they struck me to the heart. I stood for a few moments amazed at
the incident, and half inclined to think that some invisible agency
had directed my eye to those words. At first, I thought I would live a
different life, and be more serious and sedate; but at last I thought
that they were not so applicable to me as I first imagined, and I
resolved to think no more of them.”
After a struggle of several months, she could truly say:
“I began to discover a beauty in the way of salvation by Christ. He
appeared to be just such a Saviour as I needed. I saw how God could be
just, in saving sinners through Him. I committed my soul into His
hands, and besought Him to do with me what seemed good in His sight.
When I was thus enabled to commit myself into the hands of Christ, my
mind was relieved from that distressing weight which had borne it down
for so long a time. I did not think that I had obtained the new heart
which I had been seeking, but felt happy in contemplating the
character of Christ, and particularly that disposition which led Him
to suffer so much, for the sake of doing the will and promoting the
glory of His heavenly Father.... A few days after this ... I began to
hope that I had passed from death unto life. When I examined myself, I
was constrained to own that I had feelings and dispositions to which I
was formerly an utter stranger. I had sweet communion with the blessed
God from day to day; my heart was drawn out in love to Christians of
whatever denomination; the sacred Scriptures were sweet to my taste;
and such was my thirst for religious knowledge that I frequently spent
a great part of the night in reading religious books.”
She threw herself with all her native ardor into the joys and labors of
the Christian life. She taught school for several years in Salem,
Haverhill, and Newbury. Her constant endeavor was to bring her pupils to
the Saviour.
Her decision to become a foreign missionary must have required great
heroism, for, thus far, no woman had ever left America as a missionary
to the heathen. Public sentiment was against her going. It was thought
to be wild and romantic. One good lady said to another, “I hear that
Miss Hasseltine is going to India! Why does she go?” “Why, she thinks it
her duty. Wouldn’t you go if you thought it your duty?” “But,” replied
the lady, with emphasis, “I would not think it my duty!”[5]
On the 5th of February, 1812, Mr. Judson was married to Ann Hasseltine,
at Bradford. Two days before, at Plymouth, he had taken final leave of
his parents. His brother Elnathan accompanied him to Boston. The journey
was made on horseback. Elnathan had not yet been converted. While on the
way the two dismounted, and among the trees by the roadside they knelt
down and Adoniram offered a fervent prayer in behalf of his younger
brother. Four days later they parted, never to meet again on earth. The
wayside prayer was not unheeded in heaven. Years afterward Adoniram was
permitted to have the assurance that the brother over whom his heart so
fondly yearned became an “inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.”
On the 6th of February he received ordination at Salem from the Rev.
Drs. Spring, Worcester, Woods, Morse, and Griffin; on the 7th he bade
good-bye to his younger sister and companion of his childhood; and on
the 19th embarked at Salem with Mrs. Judson and Mr. and Mrs. Newell, on
the brig _Caravan_, Captain Heard, bound for Calcutta.
-----
Footnote 4:
Whittier’s “The Missionary.”
Footnote 5:
For further particulars concerning Miss Hasseltine’s early life the
reader is referred to her biography, by the Rev. J. D. Knowles.