inquiry. Such an inquiry would have been impossible to his unthinking mind; and now, when awakened to thought, his difficulty was not in the way of intellectual belief. The formulas of Orthodox theology, compassing the way of salvation, were familiar to him, and the common religious talk and appeals in the prayer-meeting were based upon an acceptation of the doctrines of evangelical belief. The question with him, free from all difficulty in theology, was one of simple submission to the Divine will. He struggled long in darkness, seeming to himself ready to submit, and yet, through his meagre power of introspection, unable apparently to discover the obstacle which stood between his desire and its fulfilment. There was a conscientious perseverance and honesty in his character, which refused to be content with anything short of full satisfaction on this point; nor was it possible that a will so stubborn and determined as his should accept, without severe. struggle, the entire self- renunciation required of it. Thus the period of his contest extended over several weeks. His room-mate, for he had taken one at the beginning of the term, speaking of this time, says: "I had noticed there was something serious on his mind, and my interest was excited by the singular circumstance of his repeating the same verse for several days in the noon meeting: So foolish was I and ignorant. I was as a beast before thee.' (Ps. lxxiii. 22.) I have no remembrance of dates; but one day he came into the room, threw himself on the floor, and began to weep and moan and roll about, seemingly in great agony. I went to him and talked for a while, when he became calmer. It was that night, I think, that the struggle was over.

The difficulty which lay in the way of his peace, and which for a while he seemed not to recognize in thought, became plain when it was stated to him by another. One cherished purpose stood as the representative of self, endeavoring to maintain a supremacy. A few years afterward he wrote as follows to Professor Hopkins: "I well remember the day on which in anxiety of mind I called upon you, not knowing why I did not find peace in believing. You asked me if I had no cherished purpose which stood in the way. That question at once let in a flood of light, and was the most weighty question which I ever was called upon to answer. I saw then that the alternative was before me, -to be a farmer and a sinner, or a missionary and a Christian. My boyish inclination for a farmer's life appeared in its right light, and I was helped, I believe, to give it up and to give myself to Christ and his Church."

This then was the crucial test. I am confident that he had never failed to regard the question of becoming a Christian and that of becoming a missionary as inseparably connected for him; his decision of the latter was a test of sincerity in deciding the former. So also he stated it to the ecclesiastical council which ordained him. Every way the act was characteristic. He had early and always associated the missionary with the most advanced stage of Christian profession. He could not be half-way in anything he undertook, and in assuming the vows of a Christian, his whole nature hurried him on to what he regarded as the most complete fulfilment of those vows. His being, like the cloud

which

แ moveth all together, if it move at all,"

carried him undoubting and with whole-heartedness into the missionary idea. Henceforth he had this ruling purpose, and eight years afterward he could say, in the letter to Professor Hopkins just now quoted: "Inseparable as these two acts appeared then, they have been no less so in my feelings since that day. I have never made any other formal committal of myself to the work, and have never seriously wavered in my decision. Having this definite end before me so constantly has been of immense service to me as a Christian, and I thank God for it."

Nor was there absent the influence of personal association always strongly moving him. From the day when old Doctor Scudder laid his hand on his head and claimed him for the India Mission, he had felt the touch, and when now he had decided, without recal, to enter the missionary field, it would have been almost as impossible to choose any other country than India, as to have chosen any other work than the missionary. Just before leaving college, he makes the brief entry in his journal, "Heard of Doctor Scudder's death at Cape of Good Hope. I can never have my desire gratified of seeing him in India;" and eleven years afterward, when he had closed his short career in that distant land, a brother-missionary, arranging his library for transmission to America, found a little paper-covered book well worn by use, but tenderly preserved. It bore the title, "Letters to Sabbath School Children, by Rev. John Scudder, M. D., Missionary at Madras,' and written broadly across the fly-leaf, "Master David Scudder, from his affectionate friend, J. Scudder, New York, Aug. 8, 1843." This, with one or two pale letters, the young missionary had treasured since childhood;

they were to him dear signs of the affection of his revered predecessor, and he carried them to the shores where he had hoped to be welcomed by him. It was not thus to be; yet surely our faith may warrant the imagination which pictures, when the two did meet, a holier greeting than Madras beach would have witnessed.

The period of his conversion was every way the most important epoch of his life, for it was the dividing point between the old, impulsive, unthinking life, with no aim beyond the nearest object, and the new life of thought, of loyalty to an idea, — a life having a purpose comprehensive enough to bind together all his manifold interests, and so far-reaching as never to fail him. No sooner had he got the clue to his existence than he followed it. A great impulse was given to his intellectual faculties. The awakening which his thought had undergone and which had begun to reveal to him something of himself, was aided by a powerful agent in the sense of its being his duty to think. His letters, both before this and for some time to come, are faithful exponents of the outward life which he habitually led; consequently they have very little other worth, being occupied chiefly with the commonplace news of college. A single example will stand for all, and I select one in which he communicates to his parents the fact of his conversion,—it is so transparent in its display of his character. The intelligence in the latter part is of course wholly unimportant in itself; the significance is in the naturalness with which he passed from religion to rabbit-traps, and back to religion again :

WILLIAMSTOWN, Feb. 21, 1852.

MY DEAR FATHER and MotheR: - I have just re

turned with chum from the lecture by Professor Hopkins. The President is not very well, so he took his place. But I attended to him with far different feelings from what I have been accustomed to, for, dear parents, I hope that I am a Christian. Yes, I hope that I have made my peace with God. I can hardly realize it. It has always seemed so far off. But how simple a thing it is. The great trouble with me was, I think, unwillingness to give the world up. I went to Professor Hopkins's house the other day to talk with him. I came home and talked with chum some time, and then consecrated myself to God. I felt willing to say, Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?'

6

I felt at peace after that. It is nearly time to go to the office, so I must close with some things of great importance to us. First. The Gymnasium is burnt down to the ground. I will tell you more about it in a letter soon to be written. I want to know how much I may put down my name for, to go toward erecting a new one. A subscription is being taken up. Our class have subscribed one hundred and twenty dollars, so far; ten dollars apiece for twelve students. Can I subscribe? It is not to be paid till next term. Second. (My chum has had a very bad stye on his eye.) That last was written by my chum's gold pen. I made a trap to catch rabbits with this afternoon. They are very plenty. I saw three partridges to-day. But I must close. With much love to all, I remain your affectionate son in Christ, DAVID.

His letters, and indeed all kinds of writing, were for a long time extremely incomplete expressions of his character. He was a great deal more than he could