Judson the pioneer

Front matter

JUDSON

THE PIONEER

J -M ERVIN • HULL

Contents

Chapter Page

I. The Smart Boy of Bell Rock i

II. From Judson to Johnson and Back

II

YOU can feel the electric thrill in this letter after more than a hundred years :

Dear Father: I have got it.

Your affectionate son,

A. J.

Oh, yes, " Father " knew what " affectionate son " had got ; he was expecting it all the time. It was " son's " appointment as valedictorian of his class in college, at graduation.

To be valedictorian meant a good deal at those old-time college commencements. It meant, of course, that Adoniram was the leader of his class in scholarship. And there, in the front seats, were his father and mother and his sister Abby, proudly watching him. They listened to his oration, and thought it was the most eloquent that was ever spoken; they saw the learned professors bow to him when he addressed them, and last and best of all, they saw the whole class arise 12 before him when he spoke those tender and beautiful words of farewell. Abby and her mother shed happy tears, and didn't care who saw them. The sober clergyman tried not to get excited, but didn't succeed very well.

All this shines right through that letter of four short words; that is why it was sent. When Adoniram received the appointment he could hardly keep his feet on the ground. Even after the letter was written, he walked around the streets awhile before taking the letter to the post-office, to quiet the beatings of his heart, so that he needn't appear crazy in case he should happen to meet any of his classmates — especially John Bailey, his dear friend and rival for the appointment.

Now there was another letter written to Adoniram's father before that time, which had a good many more than four words in it — big ones too, and perhaps it had something to do with the strange course that Adoniram took just after he left college. The letter was from the president of Brown University, and in it he said : " I must drop you a word concerning your son. A uniform propriety of conduct, as well as an intense application to study, distinguishes his character.

Your expectations of him, however sanguine, must certainly be gratified. I most heartily congratulate you, my dear sir, in the prospect which you have exhibited in this amiable and promising son."

Any father would be glad to get a letter like that, but it added to the great ambition which the minister had for his son, and then too, Adoniram himself was going through an experience at that time, about two years before he entered college, that made him fall right in with the ideas of his father.

He had a very severe illness, and was weak for months. When he began to get better, he spent many long days and nights in picturing to himself his future life. "I will be an orator!" he thought, " and sway thousands by my eloquence " ; or, " I will be a poet, and the world shall be entranced by the beauty of my lines " ; again, " I will be a statesman, and nations shall be guided by my wisdom."

For whatever character or profession he hit upon in this castle building, he was always sure to attain to the highest eminence; so much so that when he saw himself at the highest pinnacle of which human nature is capable, he felt like

FROM JUDSON TO JOHNSON AMD BACK AGAIN 1 5

weeping because it was not possible to go any farther.

Then, one day, his mind began to dwell on religious things. Of course he was familiar with the Bible ; of course he had been carefully taught the principles of Christianity in his father's home. But suddenly he realized that to be a humble follower of Christ would upset most of his dreams of future fame. " Adoniram Judson " was written all over every profession and career that he had been thinking of, and now there flashed into his mind the words, " Not unto us, not unto us, but to thy name.be the glory."

There was an inside fight right then and there, and the side of right got beaten. Adoniram had always said and thought, so far as he had thought anything about it, that he wished to become truly religious; but now religion, as it seemed to him, was entirely opposed to all his ambitious plans. He was afraid to look into his own heart, lest he should discover what he did not like to confess, even to himself — that he did not want to become a Christian.

All this conflict, remember, was going on in the mind and heart of a boy not yet fifteen years old. He was fully awake to the vanity of a selfish career, but every time he went over the matter he came back to this : " My father has told me over and over again that I am some day to become a great man, and a great man I am resolved to be; and religion can take care of itself."

That was the frame of mind he was in when he went to college, and so with all his brightness, all his wonderful intellectual powers, he fell an easy victim to an influence that overwhelmed many young men at that time. This influence was the French infidelity which, after the war of the Revolution, swept over America like a flood. The brilliant atheistic writings of Voltaire were translated and circulated, including his prophecy that the " Bible would soon be a forgotten book." Atheism became the fashion for a number of years to an extent that is hard to realize now, and young men of brains were supposed to be superior to the " mythology " of the Bible.

In the class above Judson was a talented, witty, handsome, attractive young fellow, whose name is suppressed in the memoirs of Judson, but we will call him, for convenience, say, Lanceford. A strong friendship grew up between Judson and Lanceford, founded on similar tastes, sympathies, and intellectual achievements; and Lanceford introduced his friend into the " freedom " of unbelief. This fitted in exactly with Judson's unbounded ambitions, and he soon became, professedly at least, as great an unbeliever as Lanceford, and when he finished his college course he exulted in the thought that he stood at the gateway of wealth, fame, success to the utmost limit, unfettered by the least hint of duty to God, and unhampered by antiquated religious scruples.

Of course he must make a beginning in some way, and he did it in a way most natural to one of his intellectual tendencies. In the autumn of 1807 he opened a private academy in Plymouth, which he taught for nearly a year, and during that time, just for mental exercise, as it would seem, he wrote and published two school-books, " The Elements of English Grammar," and " The Young Lady's Arithmetic." It might be interesting to look up that old book and find out why it was thought in those days that a " young lady " needed a special kind of arithmetic. But Judson's teaching days were few. The restless ambitions that were seething within him soon drove him out into the great world, and we must go with him.

He closed his school in Plymouth and set out on a tour through the Northern States. Before he started there was a tremendous scene between the son and father. Adoniram lightly set forth his change of views, and openly declared his infidel sentiments. The minister was amazed. He had made unnumbered sacrifices gladly for the son that he loved deep down under his stern exterior. In his visions of pride for his success there had never been a hint of anything like this. But though he was amazed, he was not overwhelmed, and he rose like a lion to the defense of the faith that was in him.

Young Adoniram smilingly lifted the shield of his sparkling sophistry. He knew he was superior to his father in argument, but he had nothing to oppose to his mother's tears and pleadings, and in spite of himself they followed him wherever he went.

He started out with a horse which his father had furnished him. When, in the course of his travels, he came to the home of his uncle, Rev. Ephraim Judson, in Sheffield, Connecticut, he heard that the wonder of the world, the steamboat which Robert Fulton had invented, would soon make a trip from Albany to New York. He left his horse with his uncle, and hurried to Albany to see this marvel of the new century, and gladly took passage on the " Clermont " for New York.

It was long, long years afterward before Judson told the whole story of that journey and its sequel, but during his last illness in Burma he described to his wife, with all the enthusiasm of youth, the impressions made upon his mind. Naturally, on such a trip as that, the passengers quickly became friendly and sociable without formal introductions. They talked about the scenery, the wonderful craft that was carrying them down the Hudson.

" Ah, Mr. Judson, look at the beautiful reach of the river that we are entering! " .

" Take my word for it, Mr. Johnson, the ' Clermont ' and her successors are bound to revolutionize transportation by water."

" Mr. Judson " — " Mr. Johnson " ; sometimes he was addressed by one name, sometimes by the other. Why not let it go at that, and be " Mr. Johnson " until he had " seen the world " ?

So it was Mr. Johnson who left the " Clermont " at New York, and joined a band of strolling players for a time. He knew that he was on the verge of such a life as he despised. For the world he would not see his younger brother in his position. " But I," he thought, " am in no danger. I am only seeing the world — the dark side of it as well as the bright; and I have too much selfrespect to do anything mean or vicious."

It was a fellow prisoner in Ava, an English gentleman, to whom Judson told the story of this episode : " We lived a reckless, vagabond life," he said ; " finding lodgings where we could, running up a score, and decamping without paying the reckoning. Before leaving America, when the enormity of this vicious course rested with depressing weight upon my mind, I made a second tour over the same ground, carefully making amends to all whom I had injured."

After some time in New York, he returned to Sheffield for his horse, intending to pursue his sightseeing journey westward. Then two events took place which changed the whole course of his life. One of them seems slight enough. At Sheffield he met a young minister, who had taken his Uncle Ephraim's place. He was so sincere, so solemnly but gently in earnest that Judson's heart was touched, and he went away deeply impressed.

The next night he stopped at a country inn, and the landlord apologized for having to put him in the next room to a young man who lay very ill, probably dying.

" I hope it will occasion you no uneasiness, sir?"

" Oh, no," replied Judson, " only that I deeply pity the poor sufferer."

But as the night wore on he heard sounds from the sick-chamber, and he could not sleep. The young man was dying, the innkeeper said. Was he prepared? Oh, Mr. Johnson! He felt a blush of shame steal over him at the question. What would the band of players say to such weakness? How the clear-minded, intellectual Lanceford would make fun of him! Still the question came back, " Was he a Christian ? " and he could not rest till the morning sunshine dispelled his " superstitious illusions."

" How is the sick young man ? " he asked the landlord.

" He is dead."

" Dead ! Do you know who he was ? "

" Oh, yes ; it was a young man from Brown University — a very fine fellow; his name was Lanceford."

Judson was stunned. After hours had passed, he knew not how, he attempted to pursue his journey. But all his atheism had turned to ashes. He knew the religion of the Bible to be true, and he was in despair. He abandoned his journey and turned his horse's head toward Plymouth.

The path that led out of that despair was as peculiar as some of Judson's other experiences. On October 12, 1808, he entered Andover Theological Seminary as a special student, without feeling that he was yet a Christian at all. He had to struggle still with the brilliant arguments that once seemed so unanswerable to Lanceford and himself. But he laid hold of the axe and hewed away at the tree of unbelief and worldly ambition till it fell flat, and on December 2, 1808, he recorded this, " Made a solemn dedication of myself to God."

This dedication was absolute, complete, and freely made. From that moment Adoniram Judson was God's man. All his ability, all his accomplishments, all his attractive personality, were held simply as subject to the orders of Jesus Christ, the Captain of his salvation.

Ill

THERE is a monument in a green nook among the Berkshire Hills, at Williamstown, Massachusetts, that has a peculiar carving on one side of it.

"What is it?" people sometimes ask; "it looks — it looks like a haystack."

It is a haystack. A haystack isn't a very artistic object, but it was carved on the monument because it was connected with the strange doings of some boys at Williams College.

Samuel J. Mills, James Richards, Luther Rice, and the rest of them — they were all just college boys. They had the vitality of youth, they loved the games and pleasures of youth; and one of them, big Luther Rice, loved to sing the songs of youth. They had youthful ambitions too, but here was the strange thing — every one of these young fellows had got it into his head that the goal of his ambition ought to be " The World for Christ,' : through foreign missions, an idea that was almost unheard of at that time. So they organized a little missionary society in 1806, and used to meet together at night in a grove, to sing and pray and talk; and they all agreed that they would be missionaries if they could find any possible way to go. One night in a terrific thunderstorm they were driven to seek shelter beside a haystack. So the inscription on the Haystack Monument tells the exact truth :

The Birthplace of American Foreign Missions.

Adoniram Judson was not one of the Williams College young men, but at Andover Theological Seminary he became connected with them, and had much to do with their splendid achievement.

The spark that set Judson aflame for foreign missions was a sermon — yes, actually, a sermon that he read. It was preached at Bristol, England, by Dr. Claudius Buchanan, chaplain to the East India Company. The title was, " The Star in the East," from the words of the Wise Men, " We have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him."

The reading of this sermon produced a tremendous effect upon Judson. " Why," he said, " how stupid, stupid I have been! Missions, why, the New Testament is all missions ! "

He was so thrilled with the idea that for several days he could not attend to his studies. His visions now were all about himself as a missionary; he saw himself on some foreign strand, proclaiming the gospel, while the natives gathered around him in crowds, and accepted the truth by thousands. And that wasn't all; he made life a burden to his fellow students by going about to their rooms and declaiming about missions till they would fain say to him :

" Clear out, Judson, and give us a chance to study."

You would think that a fellow like this would be just the one to start out with a big rush, and then give up when he met hindrances and hardships. But this was the wonderful thing about Judson : he was a perfect Niagara of energy and enthusiasm, and no trial or suffering or defeat could stop him.

It was some time before he made his final decision, and, as usual, it was in a way peculiar to himself. He was walking alone in the woods behind the seminary, thinking and praying about devoting his life to missions, and feeling half inclined to give it up. Suddenly the words of Jesus to his disciples, " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature," came into his mind with such power that he decided once for all to be a missionary.

" Now I must tell the folks at home," Judson kept saying to himself as soon as the decision was made. But it wasn't so easy to do that. Adoniram Judson, the Plymouth minister, still had ambitious views for his son. He was still seeing visions, and there was not a single one of them in which he saw his talented boy preaching to a company of heathen.

So it was not until he was at home, during the winter vacation of 1810, that Adoniram told his plans to his own people, and even then he did not speak until he was almost compelled to do so. One evening his father threw out some hints of splendid prospects for the future, and his mother and Abby showed by their smiles and half-revealing remarks that they were in the secret. Adoniram became alarmed.

" What do you mean by * splendid prospects,' father?" he asked; "tell me all about it, please; because — perhaps — they may not seem so to me ; I may have other plans "

THE PIONEER

" Oh, there will be no difference of opinion when you know what it is that is offered to you," said his father confidently. " Doctor Griffin has been talking with me about you, and he has proposed you as his colleague in the largest church in Boston."

" And you will be so near home," added his mother.

The son's heart seemed near bursting, and he could not answer either of them ; his real purpose would be such a bitter disappointment to them. But when Abby joined in the conversation, and said how fine it would be for him to live in Boston, he turned to her and replied :

"No, sister; I shall never live in Boston. I have much farther than that to go."

It was a hard task, but steadily and earnestly he told them what he intended to do. His mother and sister shed many tears as they listened, but his father spoke hardly a word. Who knows but he had a new and nobler vision of greatness for his son?

So when those Haystack young men from Williams College came to Andover to the seminary, there was Adoniram Judson, like a locomotive, with steam at high-pressure, and leaking at the safety-valve, ready to hitch on and pull with them. They met together to talk and pray about missions, and the tie of brotherhood that bound them together was this — a pledge that they would give themselves to foreign missions, and that the offering should be for life.

But how, how should they go? How could they put their pledge into actual practice? It is really amazing to see how wisely and steadily they worked forward with their scheme. Remember, there was not at that time a single society in the United States to which they could offer themselves as foreign missionaries. They themselves were going to be the chief cause of the organization of such a society, but they did not know it — not yet.

" But see here," they said as they talked it over, " England is ahead of America in this thing. There's William Carey, you know, over at Serampore, and there are missionary societies in England. Let's write over there and see if they will take us as their missionaries."

" Who will write the letter? "

" Oh, Judson, of course."

So Judson wrote, in April, 1810, and inquired whether the society would accept and send out some " young, unmarried men, having received a liberal education, wishing to serve the Saviour in a heathen land, and indeed susceptible of a passion for missions."

But these persevering students did not rest quietly for a reply to this letter. They consulted their teachers and a number of prominent ministers, and made so strong an impression that the professors and ministers met for consultation on the matter at the house of Professor 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, and which was to meet at Bradford the next day, June 26, 1810.

Accordingly the students prepared a letter, and on the second day of the meeting they presented it to the General Association. The heart of the letter is this :

" The undersigned 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. The undersigned, feeling their youth and inexperience, look up to their fathers in the church, and respectfully solicit their advice, direction, and prayers."

The " undersigned " were Adoniram Judson, Samuel Nott, Samuel J. Mills, and Samuel Newell. The names of Luther Rice and James Richards were originally signed to this petition, but had been stricken out " for fear of alarming the association with too large a number."

And to the everlasting praise of those " Fathers of the Church," be it recorded that they recognized in this petition the call of God to rise to a great achievement. The General Association, when they came to act upon the petition, 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 PROSE- CUTING MEASURES, FOR PROMOTING THE SPREAD OF THE GOSPEL IN HEATHEN LANDS.

SWEET, MERRY ANN HASSELTINE

Yes, print it in capital letters, for it was the biggest thing that had yet happened in the nineteenth century.

Other resolutions provided for the way in which the Board should be governed, and gave some good advice to the young men, urging them to be diligent in study, and " humbly to wait the openings and guidance of Providence in respect to their great and excellent design."

That was the origin of the missionary society now everywhere known as the " American Board," whose achievements have kept in step with the progress of God's kingdom through all its triumphs of the century.

It was just at this historic moment that Adoniram Judson fell in love; right there, at the association at Bradford, he lost his heart to sweet, merry, lovely, consecrated Ann Hasseltine. When the dinner-hour came, Judson was one of those assigned to the hospitable home of John Hasseltine for dinner. His daughter Ann waited on the table.

" I'll take a look," she thought, " at this young Judson, whose bold missionary projects are making such a stir."

She didn't know that Judson had already taken a look at her, and had decided that she was the one girl for him.

" He keeps looking at his plate all the time," she thought, " as if he hadn't the courage to look up."

But at that very moment Adoniram, who was a bit of a poet among other things, was trying hard to compose some verses graceful enough to apply to Ann Hasseltine.

There is a tradition that John Hasseltine issued a warning that none of those students need think of taking his daughter to any outlandish country, but Judson went straight ahead, according to his custom, and the young couple were soon engaged. They were very much alike in disposition and experience. Like Judson, Ann had a brilliant mind. She was full of fun, and fond of society. " Where Ann is, no one can be gloomy or unhappy," said one of her schoolmates. She was born in Bradford, Massachusetts, December 22, 1789. When she was about sixteen she had a deep, transforming religious experience, and from that moment all her attractions, talents, and abilities were devoted to the service of God.

It was just like Judson that when he spoke to Ann of love, he also spoke of the trials she might have to bear as a missionary's wife — never to see her people again, to suffer persecution, sickness, danger, even death.

And it was just like Ann to say that these things made no difference to her. She too heard the call of distant lands, and thus hand in hand they stood, pledged to each other, pledged to the service of God, waiting only for the door of service and sacrifice to open. They had enlisted for life.

IV

WE will send Mr. Judson to England," was the decision of the Prudential Committee of the new American Board.

What for?

Because the new Society felt its own weakness and lack of resources, and clung to the idea which had suggested itself to Judson's mind, that the American and English churches should cooperate in the support of missions. They had prepared an address to the public, and had appealed for contributions, but they did not know whether the churches could be depended upon to continue the support of the zealous young missionaries, if they should be sent abroad.

" You will sail for England in the ship ' Packet,' " these were Judson's instructions, " and on her arrival at her port of destination, you will proceed to London and deliver your letter of introduction to the secretary of the London Missionary Society. A principal object of your 34 attention will be to ascertain as distinctly as possible, whether any, and what, arrangements can be made for a concert of measures, in relation to missions, between the American Board and the London Missionary Society."

Judson embarked on the " Packet " January n, 181 1. There was war between France and England at that time. The " Packet " was an English ship, and on her way she was captured by a French privateer, " LTnvincible Napoleon." As the result of this capture, the young messenger had some experiences that tried his patience and endurance, and brought out some of the qualities that were afterward put to far more serious tests.

Judson was one of the most fastidious of men in regard to neatness and cleanliness of person. He had a perfect horror of dirt or filth of any kind. Immediately after the capture he was placed in the hold of the ship, with the rough sailors. He shrank from the associations of the place, and the confined air seemed unendurable. The weather roughened, and he became exceedingly seasick. The doctor visited him every day, but Judson could not speak French, so the doctor's visits were almost useless.

These were the first hardships that he had ever endured. He was sick and discouraged. His thoughts went back to his dear old Plymouth home, to his beautiful Ann at Bradford, and then to — " the biggest church in Boston." Instantly he realized the feeling of regret that was creeping into his heart, and instantly he had a fight with that temptation, and throttled it. It seemed to him that God had permitted this capture and trouble as a trial of his faith, and he resolved to bear it, as he might be called upon to bear greater trials afterward. He fumbled about in the gray twilight of his prison till he found his Hebrew Bible, and amused himself with translating mentally from Hebrew to Latin.

One day the doctor found the Hebrew Bible on Judson's pillow.

" Hullo," he thought, " what sort of a chap is this? He can't talk French, but I'll give him a try in Latin."

So he spoke to Judson in Latin, and by the use of that language found out who he was, and got him out of the hold and into the upper cabin, and procured him a seat with the ship's passengers at the captain's table.

One day there was great excitement on board " L'Invincible Napoleon." A big ship appeared in the distance and changed her course to pursue the privateer. Judson felt like shouting for joy. Now he would be recaptured, he thought, and sent on to England. But the privateer sailed away from her pursuer in the night, and Judson and the other prisoners were conveyed to Bayonne in France.

There he was marched through the streets in company with the crew of the " Packet." To say that he was mad clear through is to state the case very mildly. On board the privateer he had learned a little French, and as he marched along he expressed his views of the situation in a manner that was plain enough to be understood, but in such French that it gave infinite amusement to the people that lined the street. At length Judson bethought himself :