Judson’s Conversion by James Hamilton

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Dec 2, 1913

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 40, No. 46.

Judson’s Conversion

By James Hamilton

ADONIRAM JUDSON, the illustrious American missionary, was a minister’s son. He was very able and very ambitious. He was early sent to college. In the class above was a young man of the name of E., brilliant, witty, and popular, but a determined deist. Between him and the minister’s son there sprang up a close intimacy, which ended in the latter’s gradually renouncing all his early beliefs, and becoming as great a skeptic as his friend. He was only twenty years of age, and you may be sure it was a terrible distress and consternation which filled the home circle, when, during the recess, he announced that he was no longer a believer in Christianity. More than a match for his father’s arguments, he steeled himself against all softer influences.

With his mind made up to enjoy life and see the world, he first joined a company of players at New York, and then set out on a solitary tour. One night he stopped at a country inn. Lighting him to his room, the landlord mentioned that he had been obliged to place him next door to a young man who was exceedingly ill, in all probability dying, 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. Still the night proved a restless one. Sounds came from the sick chamber—sometimes the movements of the watchers, sometimes the groans of the sufferer; and the young traveler could not sleep. “So close at hand, with but a thin partition between us,” he thought, “there is an immortal spirit about to pass into eternity; and is he prepared?” And then he thought, “For shame of my shallow philosophy! What would E., so clear-headed and intellectual, think of this boyish weakness?” And then he tried to sleep, but still the picture of the dying man rose up to his imagination. He was a “young man,” and the young student felt compelled to place himself on his neighbor’s dying bed, and he could not help fancying what, in such circumstances, would be his thoughts.

But the morning dawned, and in the welcome daylight his “superstitious illusions fled away.” When he came down-stairs, he inquired of the landlord how his fellow lodger had passed the night. “He is dead,” was the answer. “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. Hours passed before he could quit the house; but when he did resume his journey, the words “Dead! Lost! Lost!” were continually ringing in his ears. There was no need for argument. God had spoken, and from the presence of the living God the chimeras of unbelief and the pleasures of sin alike fled away. The religion of the Bible he knew to be true; and turning his horse’s head toward Plymouth, he rode slowly homeward, his plans of enjoyment all shattered, and ready to commence that rough and uninviting path which conducted him finally to the grave at Maulmain.— Dr. James Hamilton.