“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[“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.”