gigantic mind was little liable to be affected by the wayward impulses of enthusiasm. “If obedience to the will of God be necessary to happiness, and knowledge of his will be necessary to obedience, I know not how he that withholds this knowledge, or delays it, can be said to love his neighbour as himself. He that voluntarily continues ignorance, is guilty of all the crimes which ignorance produces ; as to him that should extinguish the tapers of a light house, might justly be imputed the calamities of shipwrecks.” *
Mrs. Judson was now afloat on an untried element, which was bearing her rapidly away from her home and kindred. The struggle, in a heart so strong in its affections as hers, must have been severe. We have seen, that she had calmly weighed the difficulties and the hazards of the undertaking, and was under the influence of no temporary excitement, nor bold spirit of adventure. She knew well what she must surrender, and the objects which called for the sacrifice—and she left all, for the sake of her Saviour, and of her perishing fellow men. Why should such disinterested benevolence and heroic firmness fail to obtain the applause of men, who are ready to admire and praise these qualities, when exerted on other occasions and for other objects ? Why should the voice of eloquence, and the lyre of the poet, which delight to commemorate the self-denial, and patriotism, and noble daring of the wise and good, be mute, when the missionary departs on his errand of mercy ? The memory of Lady Arabella Johnson has been the recent theme of eulogy, on the spot where Mrs. Judson embarked for India.* In what worthy quality of heart was the missionary inferior to the accomplished Puritan ; and how did the arduous enterprise of Mrs. J. in grandeur of aim, generous self-denial, devoted affection, and intrepid courage, fall short of that which has embalmed the memory of Lady Johnson? Why, then, should not the missionary be included in the following tribute to female excellence, as true as it is beautiful ?
“In the path of duty, no sacrifice is with them too high, or too dear. The voice of pleasure, or of power, may pass by unheeded ; but the voice of affliction, never. The chamber of the sick, the pillow of the dying, the vigils of the dead, the altars of religion, never missed the presence or the sympathies of woman. Timid though she be, and so delicate, that the winds of heaven may not too roughly visit her, on such occasions she loses all sense of danger, and assumes a preternatural courage, which knows not, and fears not, consequences. Then she displays that undaunted spirit, which neither courts difficulties, nor evades them ; that resignation, which utters neither murmur nor regret ; and that patience in suffering, which seems victorious over death itself.” *
The dangers of the ocean are sufficient to intimidate any heart, unless it be fortified with a better armour than that which Horace deemed necessary for the first maritime adventurer.† But Mrs. J. and her companions encountered no other than the usual incidents of a voyage. Some extracts from hèr journal and letters will be read with interest.
“Feb. 18. Took leave of my friends and native land, and embarked on board the brig Caravan, for India. Had so long anticipated the trying scene of parting, that I found it more tolerable than I had feared. Still my heart bleeds. O America, my native land, must I leave thee ? Must I leave my parents, my sisters and brother, my friends beloved, and all the scenes of my early youth ? Must I leave thee, Bradford, my dear native town, where I spent the pleasant years of childhood ; where I learnt to lisp the name of my mother; where my infant mind first began to expand; where I entered the field of science; where I learnt the endearments of friendship, and tasted of all the happiness this world can afford ; where I learnt also to value a Saviour’s blood, and to count all things but loss, in comparison with the knowledge of him? Yes, I must leave you all, for a heathen land, an uncongenial clime. Farewell, happy, happy scenes—but never, no, never to be forgotten.
“Feb. 19. Sea-sick all day, and unable to do any thing. My thoughts, more than usual, fixed on divine things. Longed for the enjoyment of God’s presence on our passage, that we may be preparing for usefulness in future life. In the night, had many distressing apprehensions of death. Felt unwilling to die on the sea, not so much on account of my state after death, as the dreadfulness of perishing amid the waves.
“Feb. 21. Somewhat relieved from sickness, and able to read a few chapters in the Bible. Never had a greater sense of our obligations to live devoted to God, resulting from his distinguished mercies. Even on the ocean, confined as I am, I find many sources of enjoyment, and feel as happy as when on land, in the midst of my friends.
“Feb. 22. O for a heart to live near to God, and serve him faithfully. I need nothing so much as ardent piety. I should feel happy in the consideration of having left my native land, and my father’s house, if, by making this sacrifice, the kingdom of Christ would be promoted. May it be my great object to live a useful, holy life, and prepare to die a peaceful death.
“Feb. 27. This day has been regarded by our friends on land as a day of fasting and prayer for the prosperity of this mission, and I hope the same object has not been forgotten by us on the sea. I spent some time this evening on deck. The weather was pleasant ; the motion of the vessel gentle, though rapid ; the full moon shone clearly on the water ; and all things around conspired to excite pleasing though melancholy sensations. My native land, my home, my friends, and all my forsaken enjoyments, rushed into my mind ; my tears flowed profusely, and I could not be comforted. Soon, however, the consideration of having left all these for the dear cause of Christ, and the hope of being, one day, instrumental of leading some poor degraded females to embrace him as their Saviour, soothed my griefs, dried up my tears, and restored peace and tranquillity to my mind.
“Feb. 29. The weather continues pleasant, so that we are able to spend much time on deck. I see that there is no situation in life in which trials and enjoyments, pains and pleasures, are not intermingled. I calculated on nothing but difficulties and distresses, during the voyage, and am disappointed in finding many pleasures. God frequently deprives his children of the good things of this world, that they may be sensible they have no portion here. Have I not, then, reason to fear that I am receiving my only portion ? And yet my heart tells me, that I do not wish to take these things as my portion. I would rather be deprived of them than that they should deprive me of the enjoyment of the light of God’s countenance. I desire a heavenly inheritance that will never fail me. I desire that the great, the infinite God, may be my portion, my friend, my all.”
To her Mother.
“At Sea, Sabbath eve, March 1, 1812.
“No daughter would ever more gladly relieve the anxieties of a mother, than I yours. The motives which induced me to go, and you to give your consent, ought now to support us, and prevent our indulging useless regret for what we cannot help. The life I now lead is much happier than I expected. Though deprived of many sources of enjoyment, I am surrounded with mercies. I have been sick every day since we sailed until to-day. My sickness has not been very distressing. I have been quite well part of the time ; and when my sickness returned, found almost immediate relief from lying down. I suffer the most for the want of an appetite. However, we have such a variety of provisions on board, I generally find something I can relish. From the order and regularity of things in the cabin, you would hardly imagine we are on board of a vessel. The captain is a young gentleman of an amiable disposition and pleasing manners. He and all the officers treat us with the greatest kindness and respect. Every thing they have is at our service. Last Sabbath, the first of our being here, we had no preaching or religious worship. To-day it was proposed to the captain to have worship in the cabin. He readily assented, and joined with us, together with two of the other officers. I have not heard the least profane language since I have been on board the vessel. This is very uncommon.”
“March 5. Began Cave’s Lives of the Apostles and Martyrs. O for that ardent piety which was so conspicuous in them, and for that willingness to suffer for Christ’s sake, which they manifested. I long to have my mind raised above fleeting, transitory objects, and placed entirely on those with which my soul is most nearly concerned, that so I may live as becomes a stranger and pilgrim on the earth. May even that one tie which still binds me to earth, though so strong and endearing, not hold my heart, my thoughts
