Memoir of Mrs. Ann H. Judson. James Davis Knowles

think I can say, that I feel happy in the prospect. And yet my heart feels a pang at the thought of leaving my dear husband to bear alone the trials and fatigues of a missionary life. I am willing, I should be thankful to live longer on his account, and for the sake also of labouring among the heathen. But the kind of life I lead, induces me to look at the grave with more composure than I otherwise should do, and appreciate the worth of that religion which can make us happy when stripped of earthly comforts—and happier still, in view of the eternal world.

      “Mr. J. has gone to preach to the soldiers, and brother Rice to conduct worship in the hospital ; so that being quite alone, I have sought and enjoyed a precious season of prayer and communion with God. O for a closer walk with God, and more fervour in the performance of religious duties. O that I could fill up every moment with service acceptable to the dear Redeemer.

      “Feb. 12. Some religious enjoyment, but guilty of much stupidity, hardness of heart, and wandering thoughts. Have felt some longing desires to be free from sin, and present with the Saviour. Formerly, I was very desirous of living a long life—death generally appeared as the king of terrors. But of late, I have wished that my pilgrimage would soon terminate ; and death and the grave have worn an inviting appearance. This change of feeling is not occasioned by any present distress or discontent with life, for my days are tranquil and happy. Perhaps these new desires are a prelude to my speedy departure from this world. O that this may be the case, and that I may, in this solemn transporting hour, adopt these lines of Watts;—

      ‘Joyful, with all the strength I have,

      My quivering lips shall sing,

      Where is thy boasted vict’ry, grave ?

      And where’s the monster’s sting?’

      “28. Had a special season of prayer this evening, to confess my sins, and bewail the depravity of my heart. Had some faint views of the infinite excellence of God, which caused me to mourn that I sinned so much against him, and to long for strength to vanquish my spiritual foes. Felt happy that God reigns ; that he has a church in this world, on which he has set his love, having redeemed it with the blood of his own dear Son. But O how seldom do I get near to God, or have any sense of divine things. At what a poor, low rate I live. If a Christian, surely I am the least, the vilest, entirely unworthy the notice of an infinite God. Yet Jesus can be honoured, in the salvation of one so mean, so unworthy. Divine grace will be more conspicuous, than in the salvation of those, who have less to be forgiven. I will still hope in thy merey, O infinite Redeemer—that thou wilt enable me to persevere in thy service, and finally save my sinful soul.

      “March 7, Sabbath. I am alone, as usual, on the Sabbath. Have been spending the forenoon in self-examination and prayer. Much distressed on reviewing my exercises and feelings, for some days past. I see that I have greatly declined in religion ; have, less frequently than formerly, affecting views of my own sinfulness, and refreshing views of the divine character. O that I might live a more holy life ! I would be more watchful, more prayerful, more willing to deny myself, that I may live near to God ; but in my own strength I can do nothing. If Jesus is pleased to strengthen me, and give me a spirit of perseverance, it will be easy for me to keep his commandments. But if not, I shall wither and die ; I shall give up the contest, and my sins will come off conquerors. O Jesus, prevent it. My sins are thine enemies as well as mine. Let them not triumph over one, who humbly dares to hope that she loves thee, and who now gives herself entirely to thee. Thou wilt not, O my Saviour, desert me at last. Thou knowest I have left my native land, and the comforts of social life, from desire to serve thee, and comply with the clear dictates of duty. And now, when I have but few comforts left, O give me the enjoyment of thy presence. Give me thyself, and I ask no more. I will be satisfied with this as my portion in life, and my eternal portion beyond the grave.

      “13. Brother Rice has just left us, and taken passage for America. Mr. J. and I are now entirely alone—not one remaining friend in this part of the world. The scenes through which we pass are calculated to remind us, that this world is not our home, and that we are fast verging towards the grave. No matter how soon we leave this world, if we only live to God, while where e live. In that case, to die is gain. Yet where e are willing, and even desirous to live a few years, that we may serve God among the heathen, and do something towards spreading a knowledge of the Saviour, in this benighted world.

      “30. Have been confined to my bed for a fortnight past. God has mercifully carried me through a scene of great pain and weakness, and prevented many evils which my ignorance might have occasioned. May I be grateful for divine mercies received, and humbly devote to his service, the life he has spared, and the health and strength he has so far restored.

      “I have felt a little revived of late, and long more than ever to get settled among the heathen, and begin to do something for the cause of Jesus. I feel that I have been too worldly-minded, too much concerned about my own comfort and convenience, and too indolent, since I have been engaged in my great undertaking. Resolved, through divine grace, to be more concerned for the prosperity of Zion, and to improve my time more diligently than I have ever done.

      “April 10. Have just returned from Harriet’s grave—not able to visit it before, on account of the distance. The visit revived many painful, solemn feelings. But a little while ago, she was with us on board ship, and joined us daily in prayer and praise. Now her body is crumbling to dust, in a land of strangers, and her immortal spirit has doubtless joined the company of holy spirits around the throne, where she can sing in much more exalted strains, than when a prisoner here below. I was struck on beholding a large cross in the centre of the cemetery, higher than any of the grave-stones. This reminded me of the triumph of the cross over death and the grave, a triumph in which every saint will at last partake, and be crowned with eternal life. O how animating the thought, that Jesus has himself entered the grave, and opened a path to eternal glory. He is with his disciples when they enter the gloomy passage. He was with my dear departed sister. O may he be with me.

      “23. I am astonished to find my thoughts so vain and worldly, when I have so little connexion with the world. Alas, I can do nothing for myself. I cannot, in my own strength, subdue one sinful feeling, or even think a good thought. But I see one, who is able to do all things. Yes, blessed Saviour, thy blood cleanseth from all sin, and if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean. Vile and guilty as I am, on thee I hang all my hopes ; to thee I come for pardoning and sanctifying grace. O reject me not, cast me not off ; but glorify the riches of that grace, which can save a soul, so unholy, so undeserving.”

      To her Sisters.

      “Isle of France—Port Louis, March 12, 1813.

      “My dear Sisters,