“I began to discover a beauty in the way of salvation by Christ. He appeared to be just such a Saviour as I needed. I saw how God could be just, in saving sinners through Him. I committed my soul into His hands, and besought Him to do with me what seemed good in His sight. When I was thus enabled to commit myself into the hands of Christ, my mind was relieved from that distressing weight which had borne it down for so long a time. I did not think that I had obtained the new heart which I had been seeking, but felt happy in contemplating the character of Christ, and particularly that disposition which led Him to suffer so much, for the sake of doing the will and promoting the glory of His heavenly Father.... A few days after this ... I began to hope that I had passed from death unto life. When I examined myself, I was constrained to own that I had feelings and dispositions to which I was formerly an utter stranger. I had sweet communion with the blessed God from day to day; my heart was drawn out in love to Christians of whatever denomination; the sacred Scriptures were sweet to my taste; and such was my thirst for religious knowledge that I frequently spent a great part of the night in reading religious books.” She threw herself with all her native ardor into the joys and labors of the Christian life. She taught school for several years in Salem, Haverhill, and Newbury. Her constant endeavor was to bring her pupils to the Saviour. Her decision to become a foreign missionary must have required great heroism, for, thus far, no woman had ever left America as a missionary to the heathen. Public sentiment was against her going. It was thought to be wild and romantic. One good lady said to another, “I hear that Miss Hasseltine is going to India! Why does she go?” “Why, she thinks it her duty. Wouldn’t you go if you thought it your duty?” “But,” replied the lady, with emphasis, “I would not think it my duty!”[5] On the 5th of February, 1812, Mr. Judson was married to Ann Hasseltine, at Bradford. Two days before, at Plymouth, he had taken final leave of his parents. His brother Elnathan accompanied him to Boston. The journey was made on horseback. Elnathan had not yet been converted. While on the way the two dismounted, and among the trees by the roadside they knelt down and Adoniram offered a fervent prayer in behalf of his younger brother. Four days later they parted, never to meet again on earth. The wayside prayer was not unheeded in heaven. Years afterward Adoniram was permitted to have the assurance that the brother over whom his heart so fondly yearned became an “inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.”