DR. JUDSON tells us that whilst at college he imbibed infidel notions through associating with a young fellow named E. After he left college he was traveling, and one night slept at an inn. The landlord apologized for putting him in a room next door to a young man who was exceedingly ill, probably dying, hut he hoped it would occasion him no uneasiness. Judson assured him that beyond pity for the sick man he should have no feeling whatever. He, however, spent a very disturbed night. He heard the movements of the watchers, the groans of the sufferer, but it was not this which perturbed him so much. He thought of the dying man, in the dead of the night, and wondered if he was prepared. He felt a blush of shame steal over him, for these thoughts proved the shallowness of his philosophy. He wondered what his late companions would say to him (especially the clear-minded, intellectual, witty E), if they knew. Still his thoughts would revert to the sick man. Was he a Christian, calm and restful in the hope of a glorious immortality? or was he shuddering on the brink of a dark, unknown future? Perhaps he was a freethinker, once educated in a Christian hope, prayed over by a Christian mother.
The landlord had described him as a young man. In thought he pictured himself in his place. At last daylight came, and he arose and went in search of the landlord to inquire as to his fellow-lodger.
“He is dead," was the reply.
“Dead!”
“Yes, he is gone, poor fellow!”
“Do you know who he was?”
“Oh! yes, he was a young man from Providence College, a very fine fellow; his name was E—.”
Judson was stunned. Hours passed by.
One single thought occupied his mind, and the words "dead! lost! LOST!" were continually ringing in his ears. He turned his horse's head back, abandoned the journey he was about to take, in short, he was converted to God.
His after-life, as you perhaps know, was spent in carrying the good news to many a perishing soul. He delighted to tell of the finished work of Christ and of the true knowledge of that God of infinite love he once professed unbelief in. H. N.