“The next night he stopped at a country inn. The landlord mentioned, as he lighted him to his room, that he had been obliged to place him next door to a young man who was exceedingly ill, probably in a dying state; but he hoped that it would occasion him no uneasiness. Judson assured him that, beyond pity for the poor sick man, he should have no feeling whatever, and that now, having heard of the circumstance, his pity would not of course be increased by the nearness of the object. But it was, nevertheless, a very restless night. Sounds came from the sick-chamber—sometimes the movements of the watchers, sometimes the groans of the sufferer; but it was not these which disturbed him. He thought of what the landlord had said—the stranger was probably in a dying state; and was he prepared? Alone, and in the dead of night, he felt a blush of shame steal over him at the question, for it proved the shallowness of his philosophy. What would his late companions say to his weakness? The clear-minded, intellectual, witty E——, what would he say to such consummate boyishness? But still his thoughts _would_ revert to the sick man. Was he a Christian, calm and strong in the hope of a glorious immortality? or was he shuddering upon the brink of a dark, unknown future? Perhaps he was a ‘freethinker,’ educated by Christian parents, and prayed over by a Christian mother. The landlord had described him as a _young_ man; and in imagination he was forced to place himself upon the dying bed, though he strove with all his might against it. At last morning came, and the bright flood of light which it poured into his chamber dispelled all his ‘superstitious illusions.’ As soon as he had risen, he went in search of the landlord, and inquired for his fellow-lodger. ‘He is dead,’ was the reply. ‘Dead!’ ‘Yes, he is gone, poor fellow! The doctor said he would probably not survive the night.’ ‘Do you know who he was?’ ‘O, yes; it was a young man from Providence College—a very fine fellow; his name was E——.’ Judson was completely stunned. After hours had passed, he knew not how, he attempted to pursue his journey. But one single thought occupied his mind, and the words, Dead! lost! lost! were continually ringing in his ears. He knew the religion of the Bible to be true; he felt its truth; and he was in despair. In this state of mind he resolved to abandon his scheme of travelling, and at once turned his horse’s head toward Plymouth.”
He arrived at Plymouth September 22, 1808, and in October of the same year entered the Theological Institution at Andover, one year in advance. As he was neither a professor of religion nor a candidate for the ministry, he was admitted only by special favor. On the 2d of December, 1808, he made a solemn dedication of himself to God; and on the 28th of May, 1809, at the age of twenty-one, joined the Third Congregational church in Plymouth. His conversion involved in itself a consecration to the Christian ministry. How complete this consecration was, may be seen in the following extract from a letter to Miss Ann Hasseltine:
“ANDOVER, _December_ 30, 1810. Sunday Eve.
“I have been through the labors of another Sabbath. A preacher can say with Pope, ‘E’en Sunday shines no day of rest to me.’ Brother Nott preaches this evening; but, on account of a cold, I stay at home. I am persuaded that the chief reason why we do not enjoy religion is, that we do not try to enjoy it. We are not like a good man who resolved that he _would_ grow in grace. We pervert the doctrine of our dependence to indulging indolence and sinful ease. I have enjoyed some religion to-day, and I think by means of resolving in the morning that I would avoid everything displeasing to God. I have some hope that I shall be enabled to keep this in mind, in whatever I do—_Is it pleasing to God?_ To assist my memory, I have used the expedient of inscribing it on several articles which frequently meet my sight. Is it not a good plan? But after all, it will be of no use, unless I resolve, in divine strength, instantly to obey the decision of conscience.”
“_December 31._ Monday Eve.
“It is now half after nine, and I have been sitting fifteen minutes with my pen in hand, thinking how to begin. I have this day attained more than ever to what I suppose Christians mean by the enjoyment of God. I have had pleasant seasons at the throne of God. Those lines of Watts have been very sweet to me:
“‘Till Thou hast brought me to my home, Where fears and doubts can never come, Thy countenance let me often see, And often Thou shalt hear from me.’ (_78th of 1st Book._)