Sermon – Christmas – 1838


Joseph Dow preached this sermon in Hampton, NH on Christmas Day, 1838.


sermon-christmas-1838

AN

HISTORICAL ADDRESS,

DELIVERED AT HAMPTON, NEW-HAMPSHIRE,

ON THE 25TH OF DECEMBER

1838,

IN COMMEMORATION OF THE SETTLEMENT OF THAT TOWN:

TWO HUNDRED YEARS

HAVING ELAPSED SINCE THAT EVENT.

BY
JOSEPH DOW, A. M.

 

ADDRESS.
As in the life of every individual, so likewise in the history of every community, there are seasons of more than ordinary interest. There are occasions, where not only individuals, but whole communities, are forcibly reminded of the rapid flight of time, and of the changes effected in a series of years. These changes are not confined to any one class of objects. They may be predicted of almost every thing around us. Many of them are so gradual, that, when viewed in relation to two successive days, they are wholly imperceptible; but they are, on this account, no less real. The countenance of a friend, whom we see every day, appears to undergo but little alteration while he is in health; but let us meet him after an absence of several years,, and the change, though no greater than before, is very apparent.

On one of those interesting occasions, when our thoughts are busy with the past, and when they also run forward to scan the events of futurity, we have this day assembled. Two hundred years have passed away since the settlement of our town was commenced, and the church that worships in this house, organized. Our thoughts revert to that period, and, in our imaginations, we hear the forests of Winnicumet, echoing, for the first time, with the sounds of civilized life. In the character and the fortunes of the little band that then came hither, we feel a deep interest, for they were our ancestors.

My object in the following remarks, will be, to give a brief account of the settlement of the town; to notice some of the more important transactions of the people, in the infancy of the settlement; to exhibit, however imperfectly, their trials, dangers, and sufferings; and then to trace, in a cursory manner, the history of the first church, through a period of two centuries.

The first permanent settlement in New-England was made near the close of the year 1620.

On the 10th day of August, 1622, a grant was made, by the Council of Plymouth, to Sir Ferdinando Gorges, and Captain John Mason, jointly, of all the land lying between the rivers Merrimack on Sagadehock, now the Androscoggin,–extending back to the great lakes and the river of Canada. This tract was called Laconia, and it was the first grant in which the territory of Hampton was included.

The next year a settlement was commenced near the mouth of the Piscataqua, and another further up the river, at the place which subsequently received the name of Dover.

The principle object in the formation of these settlements, both of which were commenced under the patronage of Gorges, Mason, and several English merchants, styled the “Company of Laconia,” was to carry on the fishing business, which, it was thought, would prove very lucrative.

May 17, 1629, a Deed is said to have been given by certain Indian chiefs, assembled at Swamscot falls, now Exeter, to Rev. John Whelewright and others, conveying to them, for what was deemed an equivalent, all the land along the coast, between the Merrimack and the Piscataqua rivers, and extending back to a considerable distance into the country. In this tract our own territory was evidently embraced.

Recently, however, the authenticity of this Deed has been denied, though it is admitted that Whelewright, several years afterwards, purchased of the Indians all the land lying within a considerable distance of Swamscot falls. A similar course was probably pursued by those who formed the first settlement in this place.

On the 7thday of November, 1629, the Council of Plymouth made a new grant to Captain Mason, of a tract of land “from the middle of Piscataqua river, and up the same to the farthest head thereof, and from thence north-westward, until sixty miles from the mouth of the harbor were finished; also through Merrimack river, to the farthest head thereof, and so forward up into the land westward, until sixty miles were finished; and from thence to cross over land to the end of the sixty miles as counted from Piscataqua river; together with all islands within five leagues of the coast.” This tract was called New-Hampshire, and it included the whole of Whelewright’s purchase, if such a purchase was ever made, and a part of the land previously granted to Massachusetts, as by the charter of that colony its territory extended three miles north of the Merrimack.

By other arrangements, made in 1630 and 1631, the settlements on the Piscataqua were divided into two parts, called the upper and the lower plantations. Captain Thomas Wiggen was appointed agent for the former, and Captain Walter Neal for the latter, which extended as far south as the stream called Little river, in the eastern part of North-Hampton.

In 1633 these two agents united in surveying their respective patents, and in laying out the towns of Portsmouth, Northam, afterwards called Dover—and Hampton; though no settlement had at that time been made at the place last mentioned.

Dr. Belknap sys, that this survey was made by order of the company of Laconia, and that these towns, together with Exeter, were named by that company. Hampton was, however, incorporated by is present name at the request of the first pastor of the church established here. Whether he chose the name in conformity to the wishes of the company of Laconia, I cannot tell.

I have been thus particular in noticing the different grants that were made of the same territory, as they gave rise to much subsequent litigation and expense, by which this town, as well as others, was exceedingly harassed.

In 1636 the General Court of Massachusetts authorized two persons, Mr. Dummer and Mr. Spencer, to erect a house at Hampton, which was then called by its Indian name, Winnicumet. A house was accordingly built by Nicholas Easton, under the direction of the two persons just mentioned, and at the expense of the Colony of Massachusetts. This house was called the Bound House, although, as Dr. Belknap observes, it was intended as a mark of possession rather than of limit.

There is no evidence that a settlement was actually made here, till two years afterwards. For what purpose, then, was the Bound House erected?

The General Court had learned, that there were in this vicinity extensive salt-marshes. These must, at that time, have been very valuable, as the upland had not been brought to such a state of cultivation as to afford a sufficient quantity of hay to winter the stock which might be kept through the summer. The court wished to secure these marshes, and, by causing a house to be erected near them, at the expense of the Colony, they virtually claimed jurisdiction over them. It was, perhaps, for the purpose of asserting such a jurisdiction, that they adopted this measure.

On what grounds could the General Court claim jurisdiction here? The chartered limits of Massachusetts extended only three miles north of the Merrimack; but the Bound House was probably much farther from that river.

That they did set up such a claim, is evident from the fact that they soon after made a formal grant of the territory to the company that actually formed a settlement here.

By a plain, natural construction of the meaning of their character, this place was, undoubtedly, beyond their limits, while it was evidently included in the grant made to Captain Mason. The charters, however, that were given by the Council of Plymouth, and also those granted by the Crown, were often worded with too little care. Sometimes, unquestionably, this arose from a want of sufficient geographical information concerning the portions of country granted, and, at other times, from sheer carelessness.

In this case, the grant to Massachusetts was of land reaching to “three miles north of the Merrimack river, and of every part of it.” Now, though that river is more than three miles south of this place, yet, if we trace it up to its source, we shall find, that it rises much farther to the north than we are, and Massachusetts claimed the land to our east and west line, passing through a point three miles north of the most northerly part of the river.

Such a construction of their charter would give the people of that Colony all the land granted to Mason, and a large part of Maine, which had been granted to Gorges; thus rendering the claims of these two gentlemen null and void, as the grants to them were made after that to Massachusetts.

The agent of Mason’s estate made some objections to the claims and the proceedings of Massachusetts, yet no legal method was taken to controvert this extension of their claim; and, as the historian of New-Hampshire very justly observes, “the way was prepared for one still greater, which many circumstances concurred to establish.”

In 1638 a petition was presented to the General Court of Massachusetts, by a number of people, chiefly from Norfolk in England, praying for permission to settle at Winnicumet. On the 7th of October their request was granted. Few privileges, however, were allowed besides that of forming a settlement. In the language of the early records of our town, “the power of managing the affairs thereof was not then yielded to them, but committed by the court to” three gentlemen, not belonging to the settlement, “so as nothing might be done without the allowance of them, or two of them.” 1

It was not till the 7th of June, 1639, that the plantation was allowed to be a town, and to choose a constable and other officers, and, as our records state, “to make orders for the well ordering of the town, and to send a deputy to the court.” Even then the power of laying out land was not granted to the town, but was left to the three gentlemen to whom I have already alluded.

At that time three men belonging to the town, viz. Christopher Hussey, William Palmer, and Richard Swaine, were appointed by the General Court, as commissioners, or justices, to have jurisdiction over all causes of twenty shillings, or under.

On the 4th day of September, in the same year, at the request of Rev. Stephen Bachelor, the name of the town was changed from Winnicumet to Hampton, and about the same time, through the influence of their deputy, the right of disposing of the land, and laying it out, was vested in the town.

The number of the original settlers was fifty-six. Rev. Dr. Appleton, in his dedication sermon, preached in 1797, says, “of the names of the first settlers of Hampton, only sixteen are transmitted to us; and but four of these names continue in the place.” 2 The same four names are still found among us, though one of them will probably soon become extinct, as it is now borne by only two individuals, both of them aged females.

The names of the sixteen persons referred to by Dr. Appleton are given in the first volume of Belknp’s History of New-Hampshire. In that list the name of only one female is found, and it is probable that most of the other settlers were members of the families of these sixteen.

Though the number of settlers was at first only fifty-six, yet large additions were soon made. At the time when the settlement became a town, the number of inhabitants had very much increased. Indeed, a writer who lived and wrote about that time, says that in 1639 there were about sixty families here. 3 It has been supposed that this writer stated the number larger than it really was. There are, however, reasons for believing that his statement is not far from the truth. In the record of the proceedings at a town meeting, early in the following year, more than sixty individuals are mentioned; and it is probable, from the great diversity of their names, that they belonged to nearly as many different families.

The historian of New-Hampshire says, that the people here began the settlement by laying out the township into one hundred and forty-seven shares. Others, relying upon him as authority, have repeated the statement. Our records, however, furnish an abundance of evidence that it is incorrect; and had Dr. Belknap, in this instance, exercised his usual caution, he would not have been led into such an error. The transaction which probably gave rise to this remark, did not occur till more than seven years after the settlement was commenced, and, even at that time, there was a division of only a small portion of the land within the limits of the township.

The course the people really pursued was far different from that which has so often been imputed to them. Soon after they were allowed the privileges of freemen, they began to exercise them. The first town meeting, of which any record remains, was held October 31, 1639. William Wakefield was chosen town clerk. The freemen, instead of proceeding to lay out the township into any definite number of shares, appointed a committee, whose duty it should be, for the space of one year, “to measure, lay forth, and bound all such lots as should be granted by the freemen there.” The compensation allowed this committee, was twelve shillings for laying out a house lot, and in ordinary cases, one penny an acre for all other land they might survey.

Only one other article was acted upon at this meeting. The object of that was to secure the seasonable attendance of the freemen at town meetings. A vote was passed, imposing a fine of one shilling on each freeman, who, having had due notice of the meeting, should not be at the place designated, within half an hour of the time appointed.

On other occasions, similar votes were passed, and rules were adopted to secure order and regularity, when the people were assembled in town meeting. I will mention the substance of several regulations made in 1641.

At the close of each meeting, a moderator was to be chosen, to preside at the next meeting.

Every meeting was to be opened and closed with prayer by the moderator, unless one of the ministers were present, upon whom he might call to lead in that exercise.

After the prayer at the opening of the meeting, the names of the freemen were to be called, and the absentees noted, by the town clerk.

The moderator was then “to make way for propositions” to be considered at the meeting. In doing this, he might propose any business himself, or he might call upon others to mention subjects to be acted upon.

When any person wished to speak in the meeting, he was to do it standing, and having his head uncovered.

When an individual was speaking in an orderly manner, no other one was to be allowed to speak without permission; and no person was to be permitted to speak, at any meeting, more than twice, or three times at most, on the same subject.

When any article of business had been proposed, it was to be disposed of before any other business could be introduced.

Penalties were to be exacted for every violation of any of these rules.

December 24, 1639, grants of land, to the amount of 2,160 acres, were made to 13 persons, in parcels, varying from eighty acres to three hundred. These were merely grants of a certain number of acres, without determining where the different lots should be located. The locations were fixed at subsequent meetings.

It is worthy of notice, that the persons who were regarded as the principal men in the town, received grants of the largest tracts of land, and so uniformly was this the case in regard to those individuals whose rank is known, that we may probably judge, with a considerable degree of accuracy, concerning the standing of others, by the grants made to them. In making the grants just mentioned, the records inform us, that “respect was had, partly to estates, partly to charges, and partly to other things.”

Town meetings were frequently holden, at which, in addition to the election of the necessary town officers, the making of regulations for the government of the people, the laying out of highways, and the transaction of such business as ordinarily comes before town meetings, at the present day, the people by vote, admitted persons to enjoy the privileges of freemen, and, from time to time, made such grants of land as they thought proper.

We come now to the transaction, alleged to have been a division of the town into 147 shares. It took place on the 23d of the 12th month, 1645; that is, according to the method of reckoning time, afterwards adopted, in February, 1646. At that time the town having previously disposed of a large portion of the land that had been surveyed, agreed to reserve 200 acres to be disposed of afterwards, and to divide the remaining part of the commons into 147 shares, and to distribute it among persons, most or all of whom had received previous grants.

There is some uncertainty as to the extent that was intended to be given to this order. It is certain that it was not designed to include all the land within the township, which had not already been disposed of, as large tracts were afterwards ordered to be laid out, and others were granted to individuals at different times. The probability is, that it was intended to embrace only such parts of the town as had been actually surveyed, but had not been granted to individuals. 4

Six years after this transaction, it was determined at a public town meeting, that the great Ox-Common, lying near the Great Boar’s Head, “should be shared to each man according as it would hold out.” It appears from the records, that in conformity to this order the common was divided into about seventy-five shares, and distributed among a portion of the people; most of those to whom any part was granted, received one share each, though a few individuals received two, or even three shares apiece.

Four years afterward, Sargent’s Island was appropriated to the use of fishermen, for the purpose of building stages and other things necessary in curing fish. There was in the grant, however, a promise, that, if the island should be deserted by fishermen, it should still remain at the town’s disposal. On the 9th of June, 1663, it was voted in town meeting, that the land in the west part of the town should be laid out to the amount of four thousand acres, extending through the whole breadth of the town along its western boundary. Subsequently it was determined that this land should be laid out, partly in hares of 80 acres each, and partly in shares of 100 acres each.

About a year afterwards, it was agreed, that each one of the inhabitants of the town, who would assure the selectmen that he should settle on these lands within twelve months, should be entitled to twenty acres for a house lot.

This land was called the New Plantation, and it extended from Salisbury to Exeter, and of course was a part of land now embraced in three or four towns.

I have mentioned these instances of grants and of laying out land, merely as a specimen of the course which our forefathers pursued. 5

When the settlement was in its infancy, it would have been very much exposed to injury if no precautions had been taken in regard to receiving inhabitants. Mischievous and disorderly persons might have come in and harassed the settlers. This was foreseen, and measures were taken to prevent it. The power of admitting inhabitants and of granting them the privileges of freemen, was strictly guarded. After the town was once organized, none were admitted from abroad without the permission of the freemen. It was voted, “that no manner of person should come into the town as an inhabitant, without the consent of the town, under the penalty of twenty shillings per week, unless he give satisfactory security to the town.”

On different occasions, votes were passed to prohibit the selectmen from admitting inhabitants. I will cite several of these, nearly in the words of the Town Records, as they will serve to show the course that was taken in regard to the subject.

The first vote of this kind, on record, is dated on the 6th of the 10th month, 1639, and is as follows:–

“Liberty is given to William Fuller of Ipswich, upon request, to come and sit down here as a planter and smith, in case he bring a certificate of approbation from the elders.”

“On the 25th of the 9th month, 1654.—By an act of the town, Thomas Downes, shoemaker, is admitted an inhabitant, who is to make and mend shoes for the town, upon fair and reasonable terms.”

“May 22, 1663. Thomas Parker, shoemaker, desiring liberty to come into the town and follow his trade of shoemaking, liberty accordingly is granted him by the town.” Ten men, however, dissented from this vote.

On the 8th of the 10th month, 1662, an order of the town was passed determining who should be regarded as inhabitants. It runs thus:–“It is acted and ordered, that henceforth no man shall be judged an inhabitant in this town, nor have power or liberty to act in town affairs, or have privilege of common-age, at least, according to the first division, and land to build upon.”

The sources of some of the troubles and perplexities of the early settlers, will next claim our attention. They were harassed by wild beasts, and by lawless men. No wonder, indeed, that they were troubled by the former. Until the English settlements were formed, the wild beasts had been free to range the country, their right undisputed, and themselves unmolested, except occasionally by the Indian hunter. It could hardly be expected that they would tamely yield to the new settlers, and acknowledge their right of jurisdiction over them. Though they did not often attack the people, yet they showed less respect for their herds and flocks. It then early became an object with the people to destroy such beasts as were found to be troublesome. Perhaps none annoyed them more than the wolves; and bounties were offered by the town, as an inducement for killing them.

In January, 1645, a bounty of ten shillings was offered for each wolf that might be killed in the town. 6 Nine years afterwards the bounty was increased to forty shillings. In 1658 it was raised to five pounds.

In 1663 a bounty of twenty shillings was likewise offered for each bear killed within the limits of the town.

The settlers were also troubled by disorderly persons. Depredations were often made upon the common lands owned by the town. The making of staves appears to have been a profitable employment, and some persons, who were engaged in this business, were not very scrupulous in regard to the means employed to procure timber. Wherever they could find any, that was suitable for staves, they took it, without inquiring to whom it belonged. The very best of the timber was thus, in many instances, taken from the commons. The town adopted various expedients to prevent such acts, but still depredations continued to be committed.

In some instances, persons, whom the town had never admitted as inhabitants, settled on the public lands. In other cases, difficulties occurred, and disputes arose, in consequence of the boundaries of the town not being well defined. There were disputes of this kind with Salisbury, and with Portsmouth.

The township extended so far north as to include a portion of the present town of Rye, and near the northern limit several persons settled without permission from the town. One of the most resolute and stubborn of them was John Locke, who settled at Jocelyn’s,–now Locke’s,–Neck. He was ordered to leave the town, but seems not to have regarded the order; and at length, a committee was chosen at a public town meeting, to go and pull up Locke’s fence, and give him notice not to meddle further with the town’s property. The difficulty with him was not settled till he, having expressed a willingness to demean himself peaceably as a citizen, was received as an inhabitant, by a vote of the town.

In speaking of the trials of our forefathers, it would be inexcusable to pass over in silence the dangers and the sufferings which resulted from the hostility of the Indians. It is uncertain how soon after the first settlement of the town they began to manifest their hostility. It is, however, evident that it was at a very early period.

In the latter part of the year 1640, the town passed a vote in relation to a watch-house, appropriating the meeting-house porch to this purpose, temporarily, till another could be procured. The object of providing a watch-house is not, indeed, stated, but we can hardly conceive of any object, unless fears were entertained from Indian hostility. That such was really the case will appear probable, if we compare this vote of the town with another passed several years afterward, at a time when it is well known that most of the settlements in this vicinity were exceedingly harassed by the Indians. The selectmen were then ordered “to build a convenient watch-house, and to provide powder, balls, watches, flints, and what else the law requires, for a town stock for the soldiers.”

Trainings were also ordered at an early period. Our records mention one that was appointed by the officers to be held on the 18th of May, 1641. Whether military duty was required by the town, or enjoined by the government of Massachusetts, is not of consequence. In either case, it shows that danger was apprehended from some source or other; but whence, except from the Indians, could the early settlers in this section of our country anticipate danger, which might be repelled by force of arms?

On the 8th of July, 1689, a vote was passed, very explicit, in regard to the town’s apprehension of danger from the Indians. The vote is as follows:–“That all those who are willing to make a fortification about the meeting-house, to secure themselves and their families from the violence of the heathen, shall have free liberty to do it.”

A fortification was accordingly built around the meeting-house, distinct traces of which remained till the academy was removed, a few years ago, to the spot it now occupies, and the land around it ploughed. I believe that, even now, a small portion of the mound may be seen, just without the east side of the academy yard.

May 17, 1692, it was voted to extend the line of this fortification, so as to enclose more space, and liberty was given “to build houses in it according to custom in other forts.”

At the same time it was voted to build within the fort, at the town’s expense, a house 14 by 16 feet, for the use of the minister, and that, when he made no use of it, it should be improved as a school-house.

About a year previous to the transaction just named, “it was voted that a committee should be chosen to agree with, and to send out two men as scouts, to see what they could discover of the enemy, so long as they could go upon the snow, or so long as the neighboring towns sent out.”

A distinguished historian says of a period a little subsequent to this, that “the state of the country at this time was truly distressed: a large quota of their best men were abroad, the rest harassed by the enemy at home, obliged to do continual duty in garrisons, and in scouts, and subject to severe discipline for neglects. They earned their bread at the continual hazard of their lies, never daring to stir abroad unarmed; they could till no lands but what were within call of the garrisoned houses, into which their families were crowded; their husbandry, lumber trade and fishery, were declining, and their taxes increasing, yet these people resolutely kept their ground.” 7

But we need not confine our attention to a recital of their fears and apprehensions, and to their preparations for self-defence. We may look at the actual loss of lives among them. How many of the early inhabitants of Hampton were slain by the Indians, we cannot confidently tell. The following facts rest on good authority.

On the 13th of June, 1677, four persons were killed in that part of the town which is now North-Hampton. These men were Edward Colcord, Jr., Abraham Perkins, Jr., Benjamin Hilliard, and Caleb Towle.

August 4, 1691, Capt. Samuel Sherburne and James Dolloff, both of Hampton, were killed by the Indians, near Casco Bay, in Maine.

August 26, 1696, John Locke was killed, while at work in his field, in the northeast part of the town, at Locke’s neck, now in the town of Rye. 8

August 17, 1703, five persons were killed between this town and Salisbury. One of them was a little boy, named Huckley. The others were Jonathan Green, Nicholas Bond, Thomas Lancaster and the widow Mussey. The last two were quakers. One of them, Mrs. Mussey, was distinguished as a speaker among the quakers, by whom her death was much lamented.

Dr. Belknap states that these persons were killed at Hampton village y a party of Indians under Capt. Tom, and further, that at the same time, the Indians plundered two houses, but having alarmed the people, and being pursued by them, they fled.

August 1, 1706, Benjamin Fifield was killed in the pasture near his house, and at the same time a boy was either killed or taken.

Having mentioned these instances of murder, nearly all of which were committed within the limits of Hampton, I will merely subjoin a brief account of an expedition, which proved fatal to Capt. Swett, one of the inhabitants of this town. He was sent by the government to assist the eastern settlements against the Indians. He was accompanied by forty English soldiers, and 200 friendly Indians. With these forces he marched to Ticonic falls, on the Kennebeck, where it is said the Indians had six forts, well furnished with ammunition. Having met the enemy, Swett and his men were repulsed, and he himself with about sixty others slain. Probably a part of this number, as well as their leader, belonged to this town.

We shall next glance at the civil and political history of the town during the early period of its existence. In doing this, it may be proper, not only to consider the connection of the town with the colonial governments of Massachusetts and of New-Hampshire, but also the policy pursued by the people, considered simply as a town.

Very soon after the inhabitants acquired corporate powers, we find them, as has already been remarked, assembled in town meeting. The transactions at the first meeting of which any record remains, have already been noticed. A town clerk, and three lot layers were chosen, the latter for the term of one year. It appears from the records that some of the town officers were from the first elected annually. Others seem to have been chosen for an indefinite period, or till their places should be supplied by a new election. The first town clerk held his office more than four years, probably without being annually reelected. His successor continued in office nearly three years before any new election was made. There is no evidence from the records that this became an annual office for more than sixty years after the settlement was commenced.

It may be well here to notice the fact, that the people of this place have not, during any period of their history, been disposed to change their town clerks frequently, there having been less than twenty during the two hundred years that the town has existed.

The duties and the compensation of the lot-layers have been already mentioned.

Another set of officers, chosen at a very early period, was that of woodwards, an office which long ago became extinct among this people. It would be very natural to suppose that when almost the whole township was a wilderness, no objection would have been made to cutting trees in any part of it; but such was not the case.

As early as 1639, three woodwards were elected, and no man was to fell any trees except on his own lot, without permission from these men, or at least two of them; and at another meeting during the same year, the town voted a similar prohibition, and also a fine for its violation. The fine was ten shillings for every tree felled without license from the woodwards.

It was further voted, that if any man had any trees assigned to him, he should fell them within one month, and make use of them within three months after felling, or the trees should be at the disposal of any two of the woodwards.

In taking a brief notice of the town officers, during the early part of our history, it will probably be expected that the board of selectmen should hold a prominent place. It does not appear, however, that such officers were elected till the settlement had been begun several years. The practice of choosing selectmen seems to have been of New-England origin, and to have grown up from the circumstances in which the early inhabitants were placed. After they had established themselves in the wilderness, far from their native land, and from the seat of that government to which they acknowledged allegiance, they found themselves under the necessity of managing their own affairs. At first these seem to have been conducted in a purely democratic way, so far at least as those who were regarded as freemen were concerned. They held frequent town meetings, and delegated power to committees from time to time, only for a specific purpose. This method of proceeding being at length found inconvenient, several persons were chosen to act for the town, as it is expressed in the records, “in managing the prudential affairs thereof.” This board of officers, to which at length the name of selectmen was given, at first, consisted in Hampton, of seven persons. The first notice of such a board is in 1644. On the 4th of May in that year, the following vote was passed—“These several brethren, namely—William Fuller, Thomas Moulton, Robert Page, Philemon Dalton, Thomas Ward, Walter Ropper, and William Howard, are chosen to order the prudential affairs of the town for a whole year, next following; reserving only to the freemen the giving out of commons and receiving of inhabitants.”

In about ten or twelve instances the number of selectmen has been seven. Generally five were chosen, till the year 1823, and from that time to the present only three have been elected annually, except in the year 1829, when the board consisted of five persons.

It is unnecessary to speak particularly of other town officers, as they were generally the same, and possessed of similar powers, with those of more modern times.

To show that the town took cognizance of some matters which at the present day are left to adjust themselves, I will mention a regulation, made in 1641, in regard to wages. From September to March, workmen were to be allowed only 1s. 4d. per day, and from March to September, 1s 8d. except for mowing, for which 2’s should be allowed. For a day’s work for a man with four oxen and a cart, five or six shillings were to be allowed, according to the season of the year. Soon after it was voted that the best workmen should not receive more than 2s. a day, and others not more than 1s. 8d.

It has already been noticed, that Hampton was settled by the authority of Massachusetts, and it was for many years considered under the jurisdiction of that colony. In 1639 the town was authorized to send a deputy, or representative, to the General Court at Boston.

This privilege was not long neglected, for about five months afterwards the town assessed a tax to pay their deputy, John Moulton, who had at that time been twice to the court, having spent twenty-seven days in the service of the town. The compensation allowed him was 2s. 6d. per day, besides his expenses.

In September, 1640, John Cross was elected a deputy to the court to be holden on the 7th day of the next month. He was the second representative chosen by the town.

Hampton was probably for a short time under the immediate jurisdiction of the courts at Boston. On the 25th of July, 1640, a “grand juryman” was chosen for the court to be holden at Boston in the following month.

The town was soon annexed to the jurisdiction of the county of Essex, whose courts were held at Ipswich.

In 1643 a new country was formed, embracing all the towns between the Merrimack and Piscataqua rivers. This was called the county of Norfolk. The number of towns within its limits however, had courts of their own, and in each of the towns there was an inferior court, whose jurisdiction extended to causes of twenty, had courts of their own, and in each of the towns there was an inferior court, whose jurisdiction extended to causes of twenty shillings and under.

The claim of Massachusetts to jurisdiction over the whole territory embraced within the county of Norfolk, was not undisputed. Mason, to whom a large part of it had been granted by charter, was dead. His heirs made some opposition, but there were at that time almost insurmountable difficulties in the way of obtaining redress by a civil process. In England, Charles and his Parliament were at variance, and civil war was raging among the people. When, after the execution of the king, Cromwell was at the head of the Commonwealth, Mason’s heirs could not hope for success in bringing an action against Massachusetts, for his family had always been adherents to the royal cause.

At the restoration in 1660, an attempt was made to influence the king to grant relief to the heir, or rather to the heir, of Mason. A petition for this purpose was presented to Charles II., who referred it to his Attorney General, and he reported that the petitioner had a good and legal title to the Province of New-Hampshire.

In 1664 commissioners were appointed by the crown to settle disputes in the New-England Colonies. These commissioners were not very favorably received, as their appointment, with such powers as were conferred upon them, was considered by the colonists an infringement of their chartered rights.

On their arrival in New-England, they made inquiries in regard to the bounds of Mason’s patent, and decided that the jurisdiction of Massachusetts should extend no farther north than the Bound House.

The proceedings of the commissioners gave umbrage to a large portion of the people. A party, however, had been previously disaffected towards the government of Massachusetts. A person by the name of Corbett, who belonged to this party, instigated, probably, by the commissioners, prepared a petition to the king in the name of the towns of Portsmouth, Dover, Exeter, and Hampton, complaining of the usurpation of Massachusetts, and praying for a release from that government. A large majority of the people, however, did not countenance these proceedings, and at their request the General Court of Massachusetts appointed a committee, before whom the people of the four towns had an opportunity to show their disapprobation of Corbett’s proceedings. Corbett himself was apprehended by warrant from the secretary of Massachusetts, in the name of the General Court, and tried and found guilty of sedition, and punished with severity.

Soon after this period the New-England colonies were involved in a general war with the Indians. Previous to that time, the wars with them had been of limited extent. For many years their minds had been full of suspicions and of jealousies. These were fanned and blown into a flame by Philip, a powerful sachem, who resided at Mount Hope, in Rhode Island. He was resolved upon a war of extermination. He sent runners to most of the tribes in New-England, and succeeded in engaging nearly all of them in an enterprise so adroitly planned.

Open hostilities commenced in June, 1675. The eastern Indians, who resided in Maine, extended their incursions into New-Hampshire. Houses were burned, and people slain, in various places. One man was killed and another captured, by a small party that lay in ambush near the road, between this town and Exeter. The one who was taken afterwards made his escape.

I shall not proceed to narrate in detail the events of this war. The dangers and the sufferings of the people of Hampton, at that time, have been already noticed. It must suffice to add, that the war terminated in the southern part of New-England, with the death of Philip, in August, 1676. In New-Hampshire, it raged two years longer, and for a time seemed to threaten the extinction of the whole colony.

During this war, the heir of Mason made another attempt in England to recover possession of New-Hampshire. Massachusetts was called upon by the crown to show cause why she exercised jurisdiction over this province. The royal order was brought to Boston by Edward Randolph, a kinsman of Mason. He soon came to New-Hampshire, and published a letter from Mason, in which he claimed the soil of the province as his own property. The people here were alarmed, and called public meetings, in which they protested against the claim, and agreed to petition the king for protection.

They stated that they had purchased the land of the natives; that they had labored hard to bring it under cultivation, and they thought it very unjust that their hard earned property should now be wrested from them.

Agents were sent over to England, after Randolph’s return, and a hearing was granted them before the highest judicial authorities. After the hearing, the judges reported that Mason’s heir had no right of government in New-Hampshire; and further, that the four towns of Portsmouth, Dover, Exeter, and Hampton, were beyond the limits of Massachusetts. In regard to Mason’s right to the soil of New-Hampshire, they expressed no opinion.

This report was accepted and confirmed by the king in council.

New-Hampshire was then separated from Massachusetts, with which it had been for so long time so happily united. The commission for the government of New-Hampshire passed the great seal on the 18th of September, 1679.

Under the new order of things, a President and six Counsellors were appointed by the crown, and these were authorized to choose three other persons, to be added to their number. An Assembly was also to be called. The powers of the respective branches of the government were tolerably well defined.

Among the counselors named in the commission, was Christopher Hussey, of this town, and one of the three afterwards chosen also belonged to Hampton, viz—Samuel Dalton.

This change of government was very far from being satisfactory to the people generally, and even those appointed to office entered upon their duties with great reluctance.

In the writs issued for calling a General Assembly, the persons in each town, who were considered as qualified to vote, were expressly named. The whole number in the four towns was 209, fifty-seven of whom belonged to Hampton. The oath of allegiance was administered to each voter. A public fast was observed, to ask the divine blessing on the assembly that was soon to convene, and to pray for “the continuance of their precious and pleasant things.”

The assembly consisted of eleven members, three from each of the four towns, except Exeter, which sent only two, that town having but twenty voters. The members from Hampton were Anthony Stanyan, Thomas Marston, and Edward Gove. The assembly met at Portsmouth, on the 16th of March, 1680. Rev. Joshua Moody, of that town, preached the election sermon.

Under the new government, the President and Council, with the Assembly, were a Supreme court of Judicature, a jury being allowed when desired by the parties. Inferior Courts were established at Dover, Portsmouth, and Hampton.

In 1682, another change was introduced into the government. Edward Cranfield was appointed Lieutenant Governor and Commander-in-chief of New-Hampshire. This change was effected through the influence of Mason’s grandson and heir. Cranfield’s commission was dated May 9, 1682.

Within a few days after publishing his commission, he began to exhibit his arbitrary disposition, by suspending two of the counselors. The next year he dismissed the Assembly, because they would not comply with all his requests.

This act of Cranfield’s very much increased the discontent of the people. In this town particularly, and in Exeter, it created a great excitement. Edward Gove, of this town, a member of the Assembly that had been dismissed, was urgent for a revolution. He went from town to town, crying out for “liberty and reform,” and endeavoring to induce the leading men in the Province to join him in a confederacy to overturn the government. But they were less rash than he was. However they might feel towards the government, they disapproved of Gove’s measures, and informed against him; upon which he collected his followers and appeared in arms; but was at length induced to surrender. He was soon after tried for high treason, was convicted, and received sentence of death. His property was confiscated. He was sent to England, and after remaining imprisoned in the Tower three years, was pardoned, and returned home, and his estate was restored to him.

Several other persons were also tried for treason, two of whom belonged to Hampton. These were convicted of being accomplices with Gove, but were reprieved, and at length pardoned without being sent to England.

Not long after, when the courts had all been organized in a way highly favorable to Mason, he commenced suits against several persons for holding lands and felling timber which he claimed. These suits were decided in his favor; the persons prosecuted, generally, indeed, making no defences. Some of the people of this town gave in writing their reasons for not offering a defence. The jury, however, gave their verdicts without hesitation. A large number of cases were dispatched in a single day, and the costs were made very great.

Still, those who were prosecuted, and against whom executions were obtained, had one consolation. When their estates were exposed to sale, no purchaser could be found, so that they still retained possession of them.

At length the grievances of the people were past endurance, and they resolved to complain directly to the king. Nathaniel Weare, of this town, was accordingly chosen their agent, and dispatched to England.

In 1684, Cranfield wishing to raise money to relieve himself from embarrassment, under false pretences induced the Assembly to pass an act for raising the money by taxation. The constables either neglected or refused to collect the tax, and a special officer was appointed for the purpose. When this officer came to Hampton, he was beaten, deprived of his sword, seated on a horse and conveyed out of the Province, to Salisbury, with a rope about his neck, and his feet tied together beneath the horse’s body.

At the time of this transaction, Weare, the agent of the people, was in England. In consequence of his representations, censures were passed on some of Cranfield’s proceedings, and he soon after left New-England and sailed to the West-Indies.

When the revolution occurred, which placed William, Prince of Orange, on the throne of England, the people of New-Hampshire were left in an unsettled state. A convention of deputies was holden, to resolve upon some method of government. Dr. Belknap says that “it does not appear from Hampton records whether they joined in this Convention.” This statement is incorrect. The town determined to unite with the other towns in the Convention, and for this purpose they chose and instructed six delegates. The persons chosen were Henry Green, Henry Dow, Nathaniel Weare, Samuel Sherburne, Morris Hobbs, and Edward Gove. 9

At the first meeting, the Convention came to no conclusion. Afterward they thought it best to become united with Massachusetts again. Massachusetts very readily agreed to receive them till the king’s pleasure should be known. In 1692, the king having refused to allow this union, sent over John Usher as lieutenant governor of New-Hampshire.

The people in general were so well satisfied with the government of Massachusetts, that they were very reluctant to be again separated from it. They, however, submitted to the king’s order, as a case of necessity.

We have now arrived at a period upon which we cannot look back without astonishment and regret, at the infatuation which prevailed in regard to witchcraft. I cannot relate, in detail, the proceedings of courts, and of churches, too, in relation to this subject. The chief seat of the infatuation was in and near Salem. Many persons were accused of being witches, were tried and condemned. Several were executed, while others were pardoned. The delusion was not confined to the vicinity of Salem. It extended to this town, and persons here fell under suspicion, and were tried for the crime of witchcraft. “In fine,” to use the language of an old writer, “the country was in a dreadful ferment, and wise men foresaw a long train of bloody and dismal consequences.”

We may wonder that the people of that period could be so deluded; but in New-England a belief in witchcraft was then almost universal. The same belief also prevailed in England, and even took strong hold of some powerful minds. It is said that several persons were tried and condemned by Sir Matthew Hale, a gentleman of noble intellectual endowments, and great moral worth, and one of the most distinguished judges that ever sat upon the English bench.

The author of the “Magnalia,” after relating several wonderful feats, said to have been performed by those who were reported to be witches, gravely adds: “Flashy people may burlesque these things, but when hundreds of people, in a country where they have as much mother wit certainly s the rest of mankind, know them to be true, nothing but the absurd and forward spirit of Sadducism can question them.”

But this feeling has passed away, and few people now fear that they shall be called Sadducees, or infidels, for maintaining the opinion that witchcraft is all a delusion.

It would be interesting to go back to our earliest history, and trace the progress of education in the town; to inquire what methods were adopted by our fathers, to instruct the young, and to notice the self-denials and the expenses to which the people subjected themselves, to afford the means of instruction to their children. A subject so important and so interesting, must, however, be passed over with a very few remarks.

It is probable that the ministers of the gospel, who were, from the first settlement of the town, stationed here as religious teachers, improved the opportunities which were afforded them, to inform the minds of those to whom they ministered, particularly the minds of the young. To judge otherwise would be derogatory to the good sense, the intelligence, and the discretion of the ministers themselves.

But straitened as were the circumstances of the people, they as a town were not unmindful of their duties to the young. Provision was early made for furnishing them with the means of acquiring knowledge. It is, indeed, uncertain at how early a period schools were established among them; probably soon after the formation of the settlement.

There is on record an agreement of the selectmen with a school-master, made in 1649, employing him, for a stipulated sum, to instruct the children of the town daily, for a whole year, when the weather would permit them to come together. 10 It is hardly probable that a contract would have been made with an instructor for so long a term, unless schools, or a school, had been previously established. It is not unreasonable to suppose that the origin of schools here is nearly coeval with the settlement of the town. While the town was under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts, the people were required by law to maintain a free school during a considerable portion of the time. Still, it is not certain that this law went into operation here till after the date of the agreement already mentioned. Since that time, there can be but little doubt that free schools have been maintained during a part at least of every year, where opportunities have been furnished for acquiring the rudiments of an education.

The next thing I shall notice, is the Ecclesiastical History of the town.

The object of the first settlers near the Piscatqua, as already mentioned, was to prosecute the fishing business. That business has undoubtedly been carried on here from a very early period; but this seems not to have been the prime object in forming the settlement. Our fathers came hither for the enjoyment of religious freedom. One of their first movements was to secure a minister, who should be to them a spiritual guide. They came hither united in church covenant, and at the very commencement of the settlement they were supplied with a pastor. It has been handed down to us by tradition, that the church was formed, and a pastor procured, before the settlement of the town was actually commenced; and the language of our early records seems to give countenance to this tradition. The records state that, “It was granted unto Mr. Stephen Bachelor and his company, who were some of them united together by church government, that they should have a plantation at Winnicumet, and accordingly they were shortly after to enter upon and begin the same.” This purports to have been taken from the Massachusetts court records.

A fair inference from this language is that the formation of the plantation was subsequent to that of the church.

It has sometimes been said that this was the second church formed in New-Hampshire,–a church having been previously gathered at Exeter. Both churches were formed in the year 1638; but I have been unable satisfactorily to determine which may justly claim priority of date; nor is it of much consequence. This church is acknowledged to be the oldest now existing in New-Hampshire, as the first church formed in Exeter became extinct a few years after its formation, when that town came under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. The pastor of the church was under sentence of banishment from that Province, and he retired to Wells, in the Province of Main, whither he was followed by a considerable portion of his church.

In an old book, entitled “Wonder-Working Providence of Zion’s Saviour,” the church at Hampton is said to have been the seventeenth formed in the colony of Massachusetts.

The first pastor of the church was Rev. Stephen Bachelor. He was, at the time he came hither, advanced in life, being 77 years of age. He had been a minister in England for many years. In 1632, he removed to this country, and became the first pastor of the church at Lynn. In 1638 he came to Hampton with the little band that settled here. He was pastor of this church about three years, and was removed in 1641, at the age of 80. 11 He lived to a very advanced age, and is said to have died in England, in 1661, having completed a whole century.

Mr. Bachelor’s descendants are very numerous in Hampton, and in several other towns in New-Hampshire.

When the settlement was in its infancy, a log-house afforded the people a temporary place of worship. That house was located nigh the spot where here of the subsequent meeting-houses stood; very near the present site of the academy.

At the early period of which we are speaking, the people were called together for worship by the ringing of a bell, as appears from a vote of the town, Nov. 22, 1639, when one of the inhabitants was appointed “to ring the bell before the meetings on the Lord’s days and on other days,” for which he was to have a specified sum. How interesting to the settlers must have been the sound of that bell, as its peals echoed through the forest and broke the stillness of the Sabbath morning, inviting them to assemble for the worship of Jehovah; and how strange to the untutored sons of the forest, to see the settlers laying aside their implements of husbandry, and all the tools which they were accustomed to use, resting from their labors, and wending their way, along different paths, to the log-house whence the sound of the bell proceeded.

In 1639, the year after the formation of the church, Rev. Timothy Dalton was associated with the former minister, in the pastoral office. 12 Mr. Bachelor was indeed generally designated as the Pastor, and his associate as the Teacher of the church.

Mr. Dalton came to Hampton very soon after the formation of the settlement, and it is said a considerable company of settlers came with him.

After the removal of Mr. Bachelor, in 1641, Mr. Dalton was sole pastor of the church about six years, when Rev. John Whelewright, who had previously been settled at Exeter, was associated with him. How long they were thus connected does not appear from any records which I have consulted. Mr. Whelewright was at length dismissed, when Mr. Dalton was again left sole pastor of the church. He continued in the ministry till his death.

Our records do not show what compensation was made to Mr. Bachelor, nor to Mr. Dalton, in the early part of his ministry. Large tracts of land were granted to them both. At one town meeting in 1639, 300 acres were granted to each, Mr. Bachelor having a house lot before. Grants of land were also made to them, or to one of them, at other times. It is pretty evident that at first they received no stated salary. This appears from an agreement with Mr. Dalton, in 1651, when, on certain conditions, he released the town from all “debts and dues” to him, from his first coming until he had “a set pay” given him by the town. After he had been here several years, he seems to have had about L40 per annum. Mr. Dalton is called by an old writer, “the reverend, grave and gracious Mr. Dalton.” He died on the 28th of December, 1661, at an advanced age, probably about 84 years, having been here 22 years in the ministry. Our records state that he was “a faithful and painful laborer in God’s vineyard.”

Mr. Dalton, it is well known, was the minister who gave by deed to the church and town of Hampton the property from which the ministerial funds of this town, Hampton Falls, and North Hampton, have been derived.

Soon after his ministry commenced, the town adopted measures for building a new meeting-house, of framed work, to take the place of the log-house which had served temporarily as a place of worship. By vote of the town, the new house was to be forty feet in length, twenty-two in width, and thirteen in height, between joints, with a place for the bell, which was given by the pastor.

The agreement with the contractor for building this house was mutually subscribed by the parties on the 14th of September, 1640. Soon afterwards it was determined to defray the expense by voluntary contribution. The house was not wholly finished for several years. In July, 1644, persons were appointed to ask and receive the sums which were to be given towards building it, and, in case any should refuse to pay voluntarily, this committee was required to use all lawful means to compel them. The committee was farther instructed to lay out upon the meeting-house, to the best advantage, the money they might raise. When this house was first occupied as a place of worship, is not known.

In 1649, liberty was given to certain persons to build a gallery at the west end of the meeting-house, and these persons, on their part, agreed to build the gallery, provided that the “foremost seat” should be appropriated to them, for their own use, and as their own property.

The meeting-houses first built in this town were without pews. They were constructed simply with seats; and for the purpose of preventing any disorder that might otherwise be occasioned, committees were from time to time appointed, to direct the people what seat each one might occupy.

Early in the year 1647, the church and town gave a call to Rev. John Whelewright to settle as colleague with Mr. Dalton. They stated that Mr. Dalton had labored faithfully among them in the ministry, “even beyond his ability and strength of nature.”

Mr. Whelewright accepted the invitation extended to him. The agreement made with him is dated the 12th of the 2nd month, 1647. By this agreement, he was to have a house lot, and the farm which had once belonged to Mr. Bachelor, but which had been purchased by the town. This was to be given to him, his heirs and assigns, unless he should remove himself from them without liberty from the church. The church and town were also to pay some charges and give Mr. Whelewright as a salary L40 per annum. The farm was afterward conveyed to him by deed.

How long Mr. Whelewright retained his connection with this church, is uncertain. He was here in 1656, and probably left about the year 1658.

He was a person of considerable notoriety. Hutchinson, in his History of Massachusetts, calls him “a zealous minister, of character both for learning and piety.” When residing in Massachusetts, he was accused of Antinomianism, and one of his sermons was said to savor of heresy and sedition; and refusing to make any acknowledgment, when called to an account, he was banished from the province. He then came into this vicinity, and laid the foundation of the town and church at Exeter. When Exeter came under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts, as has already been stated, he retired into Maine and resided at Wells. He remained at that place till he received a all to come to Hampton, and settle as colleague with Mr. Dalton. This took place in the year 1647. Previous to this, his sentence of banishment seems to have been removed. After his dismission from this church, he went to England, where he was in favor with Cromwell, with whom he had in early life been associated at the University of Cambridge, in England. After Charles II came to the throne, Mr. Whelewright returned to New-England, and took up his residence at Salisbury, Massachusetts, where he died November 15, 1679, aged, probably, about 85 years.

It is worthy of notice that the first three pastors of this church all lived to an advanced age—one of them dying at the age of 100, and each of the others at the age of 84 or 85 years, so that the average age of the three was not far from 90 years.

Soon after Mr. Whelewright was removed from the church, and before the death of Mr. Dalton, Rev. Seaborn Cotton was settled as colleague with the latter. His settlement took place in 1660, and Mr. Dalton died the year after.

The father of Mr. Cotton was Rev. John Cotton, one of the most distinguished of the early New England divines. He was many years settled as pastor of a church at Boston, in England. Being driven thence by persecution, he sought an asylum in this country, and soon became pastor of a church at Boston, Massachusetts. Seaborn was his eldest son, and was born in 1633, during the passage of his parents across the Atlantic, from which circumstance he received his name.

He graduated at Harvard college, Aug. 12, 1651. Dr. Cotton Mather says of him, that he was “esteemed a thorough scholar and an able preacher.”

Of Mr. Cotton’s records, only a few fragments remain, so that we know but little of the state of the church while he was pastor of it. He continued in the ministry 16 uears, and died April 19, 1686, at the age of 53 years.

During Mr. Cotton’s ministry, a new meeting-house was erected, it being the third built in the town for the use of this church. It was built in the summer of 1675, and was placed near the old house then standing. By an order of the town, all the inhabitants of more than twenty years of age were required to attend and assist in the raising of this house, under a specified penalty for neglecting to do it. The house erected at that time was the one around which a fortification was made as a defence against the Indians. It is uncertain when the house was finished and began to be occupied. The old meeting-house was taken down in 1680, having stood about 40 years.

After the death of Mr. Cotton, the church was destitute of a pastor more than ten years; a period far longer than all the other periods during which it has been without a settled minister. It must not, however, be inferred that the people had no preaching during this long destitution of a pastor. The fact probably is that they were favored with preaching nearly every Sabbath during that time, and, for a considerable portion of it, by the son of the deceased pastor, the gentleman who at length succeeded his father in the pastoral office.

Nov. 28, 1687, a committee was chosen to treat with Mr. John Cotton, to ascertain whether he would be willing to be settled in the work of the ministry and to be ordained, agreeably to the desire of the town.

Mr. Cotton probably complied with this request, so far as to preach, but not to be ordained as pastor of the church. During the ten years immediately succeeding the death of his father, he received several urgent requests from the town to be ordained. For some reason or other, he declined ordination, though he continued his preaching. For some months, however, in the years 1690 and 1691, Mr. Cotton was absent from Hampton, residing in the vicinity of Boston. He also preached three months at Portsmouth, where he was invited to settle. During a portion of the time that he was absent, Rev. John Pike, minister of Dover, supplied the pulpit here, and received an invitation to become pastor of the church. He gave some encouragement that he would accept the invitation; but probably he was unable to procure a dismission from the church at Dover, as he retained his pastoral connection with that church till his death, which occurred in 1710.

The invitation to Mr. Cotton was renewed, and after much solicitation he consented to be ordained. His ordination took place Nov. 19, 1696. He continued in the ministry till his death, March 27, 1710. At the time of his decease he was fifty-two years of age. When he was ordained there were only ten male and fifteen female members, in full communion with the church. Mr. Cotton appears to have been a very worthy man, and an acceptable and successful preacher. During the fourteen years of his ministry, two hundred and twenty persons were admitted into full communion with the church.

After his death, the people were not long destitute of a stated minister. Rev. Nathaniel Gookin was ordained pastor, on the 15th of November, in the same year.

About one year after his ordination, a new church was formed in the south part of the town, and forty-nine persons, nineteen males and thirty females, were dismissed from the first church for the purpose of being organized into the new one.

The vote, dismissing these members, passed Dec. 9, 1711, and the church was organized soon after, and Rev. Theophilus Cotton settled over it as pastor. Several years afterward, that part of the town was formed into a new town, and called Hampton-Falls.

During Mr. Gookin’s ministry, the last meeting-house was erected, which stood at the meeting-house green, near where the academy now stands. The house was sixty feet in length, forty in breadth, and twenty-eight in height, between joints. It was finished with two galleries, one above the other, as many now present will recollect; for this was the same house that was taken down in 1808, having been built eighty-nine years. The frame was erected on the 13th and 14th of May, 1719, and the house was completed, so that it was occupied for the first time as a place of worship, Sabbath day, October 18th, of the same year. This house at first was finished with only one pew, and that was for the use of the minister’s family. Other pews were added at subsequent period.

In 1725 nine persons were dismissed from this church, in order to be, probably with others, formed into a church at Kingston.

It may be proper to remark, in this connection, that the charter of Kingston was granted Aug. 16, 1694, to James Prescott, Ebenezer Webster, and several other persons, belonging to Hampton. The grant embraced not only the territory of Kingston, as it now is, but also that of East-Kingston, Sandown and Danville. The first settlers there had many difficulties to encounter and hardships to endure, on account of Indian hostilities. No church was formed at Kingston till 1725.

The church at Hampton also furnished twenty of the original members of the church at Rye. They were dismissed from this church, July 10, 1726, and the church at Rye was formed ten days after. Most of these persons, however, resided within the limits of that town, which was made up of portions of Portsmouth, New-Castle, Greenland and Hampton, and was incorporated in 1719.

An event occurred during the ministry of Rev. Mr. Gookin, worthy to be noticed on this occasion, not only on its own account, but more particularly on account of circumstances connected with it. I refer to the great earthquake, October 29, 1727. This phenomenon is here associated with the name of Mr. Gookin, from his being led, in the providence of God, to preach to his people on the very day preceding the night on which the earthquake happened, a solemn discourse, from Ezekiel vii: 7. “The day of trouble is near.”

In the course of his sermon he remarked thus:–“I do not pretend to a gift of foretelling future things, but the impression that these words have made upon my mind in the week past, so that I could not bend my thoughts to prepare a discourse on any other subject, saving that on which I discoursed in the forenoon, which was something of the same nature; I say, it being thus, I know not but there may be a particular warning designed by God of some day of trouble near, perhaps to me, perhaps to you, perhaps to all of us.”

How forcibly must these solemn words have been impressed on the minds of those who heard them, when, after only a few hours had elapsed, and while the words still seemed ringing in their ears, a low, rumbling sound was heard, which soon increased to the loudness of thunder, while the houses shook from their very foundations, and the tops of some of the chimnies were broken off and fell to the ground, the sea in the mean time roaring in a very unusual manner.

Mr. Gookin labored to improve this event of Providence for the spiritual benefit of his people, and his labors were richly blessed. Within a few months after it occurred, large additions were made to the church.

On the 19th of June, 1734, Rev. Ward Cotton was associated with Rev. Mr. Gookin, as a colleague in the pastoral office. Mr. Gookin was then in feeble health, and he lived only about two months afterwards. He died of a slow fever, August 25, 1734, aged 48 years. During this time three hundred and twenty persons were admitted to the full communion of the church.

Mr. Gookin was much esteemed by his people, who, after his death, often spoke in high terms of his worth. He was regarded as a man of good learning, great prudence, and ardent piety. He ranked high as a preacher, and his opinions in ecclesiastical affairs were very much respected by contemporary divines.

Here I shall do injustice to this people, if I neglect to mention their generous provision for the maintenance of Mr. Gookin’s widow. Soon after his death the town agreed to give her L80 a year; to furnish her with the keeping of cows and a horse, summer and winter, and to give her fifteen cords of wood per annum. They also built, for her use, a house and a barn. All this they performed as a memento of their love to Mr. Gookin, and their high regard to the worth of his widow. Mrs. Gookin was a daughter of Rev. John Cotton, her husband’s immediate predecessor in the pastoral office.

The notice I shall take of the succeeding pastors of the church will be extremely brief.

The ordination of Rev. Ward Cotton has been already alluded to. He was pastor of the church more than 31 years. He was dismissed November 12, 1765, in accordance with the advice of a mutual council. He died at Plymouth, Mass., November 27, 1768, aged 57 years.

Seven persons were dismissed from this church, September 25, 1737, in order to be formed into a church in the third parish, now the town of Kensington. The same number was dismissed, one week afterwards, to be united with them. Among these was Mr. Jeremiah Fogg, who was ordained pastor of that church November 23d, of the same year.

The fourth society was formed soon after, in that part of the town then called North Hill, but which was incorporated as a town November 26, 1742, and received the name of North-Hampton. The first meeting-house was erected there in 1738, and about the same time those members of the church residing in that part of the town requested a dismission, for the purpose of being organized into a new church. Their request was not granted. The town also refused to liberate the people there from aiding in the support of Rev. Mr. Cotton. The reason is not known. It is, however, probable that the church and town considered the formation of a new church at that time unnecessary. A council was called, that, after due deliberation, proceeded to organize the church, over which Rev. Nathaniel Gookin, son of the late pastor of the first church, was ordained, October 31, 1739.

Rev. Ebenezer Thayer became pastor of the old church, September 17, 1766, and continued in that office till his death. He died September 6, 1792, aged 58 years.

A few months after Mr. Thayer’s death, the church and town invited his son, Nathaniel, to become their minister. He did not accept the invitation. About a year afterwards they gave a call to Rev. Daniel Dana. He also declined.

After this a division arose in the town and church, which resulted in leading a majority of the town and a part of the church to declare themselves Presbyterians. They invited Rev. William Pidgin to become their pastor; and he, having accepted the invitation, was ordained January 27, 1796. Mr. Pidgin was pastor of that church a little more than eleven years. He was dismissed in July, 1807.

A minority of the town formed themselves into a society, and united with the congregational church for the maintenance of public worship, and Rev. Jesse Appleton became their pastor, February 22, 1797. As the old meeting-house was occupied by the Presbyterians, the Congregationalists made arrangements for building a new house. Accordingly, the one where we are now assembled was erected, on the 24th of May, 1797, and dedicated on the 14th of November following.

In the year 1807, Mr. Appleton was elected President of Bowdoin College; and, having accepted the appointment, was dismissed from this church on the 16th of November, in the same year. He died at Brunswick, Mc., Nov. 12, 1819, aged 47 years.

After Mr. Appleton’s dismission both churches were without pastors, and it was proposed that they should be united. Articles of union having been agreed upon, the Presbyterian church was merged in the Congregational, from which it had sprung about thirteen years before, and Rev. Josiah Webster was installed pastor, June 8th, 1808, and sustained that office till his death, March 27, 1837—almost twenty-nine years. At the time of his death Mr. Webster was about 65 years old.

The present pastor of the church, Rev. Erasmus D. Eldredge, was ordained April 4, 1838.

From these remarks it appears that this church has been organized two hundred years. During that time it has had eleven pastors. Of the first ten, six died in office, and four were dismissed. The average length of the ministry of these ten was about twenty years; for although the church, since its formation, has been destitute of a pastor about fourteen years, yet it has enjoyed the labors of two associate pastors for about the same length of time.

What important and wonderful changes have taken place during the period which we have been contemplating. If we compare our condition with that of our ancestors at the commencement of this period, in almost every circumstance we shall perceive a great alteration. The same sky is indeed spread out over us, which covered them. The same sun enlightens us by day, and the same moon by night. The same stars still beautify the heavens, and the same ocean, too, extends along the eastern border of the town; but even that is viewed with very different emotions from those felt by our ancestors, when they looked upon its broad bosom. Now, many of the little eminences within our borders afford picturesque and delightful views of the ocean and the scenery near it. Pleasant roads lead to its shore; and as we stand upon this shore, and observe the waves rolling forward and dashing upon the sand, and then look abroad upon the ocean itself, our minds are filled with agreeable sensations. We see vessels moving in various directions, and occasionally a steam-boat passing rapidly along, almost in defiance of winds and currents, having its source of motion within itself. But let us go back, in our imaginations, two hundred years, and how unlike the present! Seldom was a vessel seen off our coast; but rarely was the shore itself visited by the early settlers, as between that and their settlement were fens, creeks and marshes, rendering the way almost impassable. When they did stand by the ocean and look abroad upon its mighty mass of waters, their emotions must have been very different from ours. They were undoubtedly reminded of a place beyond the ocean; of the land of their nativity. They would naturally call to mind the scenes of their infancy and childhood—the loved scenes, the kind and affectionate friends, they had left behind, and that were separated from them by the world of waters upon which they were gazing. With their other feelings, then, must have been blended those of sadness.

But suppose we go and stand upon the sea-shore during the raging of a storm, when the water is lashed into tremendous commotion by the violence of the tempest; our feelings are indeed indescribable, but those of sublimity or grandeur are predominant. With our ancestors, other feelings must have been most powerful. When they, from their log cabins, heard the noise of the tempest; when they saw the violent agitation of the forest, as the wind moaned among its branches; and when, in addition, they heard the roar of the ocean, they must have been reminded, even more forcibly than on other occasions, of the separation to which they had been called. They then felt that an almost impassable barrier was between them and their native land.

Besides these great natural objects, how few things there are in which there has not been an almost entire change. Two centuries ago nearly the whole township, except the land bordering upon the ocean, and the marshes which skirted the river, was a thick forest, the growth of ages. From the original settlement, formed around yonder common, which was early called the meeting-house green, there might indeed have been an opening in one direction, where the marshes stretch away to the south, as far as the eye can reach. With this exception, the infant settlement was hemmed in with thick woods. No path lay through them, except such as the wild beasts had formed, or the lone foot-path, made by the Indian hunter in pursuit of game, or as he bent his course to the river in search of shellfish from its banks. Where are the forests now? Almost all have been prostrated by the woodman’s axe, and in their place we find meadows, orchards, and cultivated fields. Instead of the winding footpath, and the Indian trail, we have good and convenient roads, in almost every part of the town. How different, too, is the mode of conveyance. Our fathers seldom rode; never, except on horseback. When the second minister of the town was called to Dover, to advise with other gentlemen in regard to ecclesiastical affairs, history informs us that he went on foot. How is it now? Station yourselves near one of our principal roads in a fair summer day, and let the scenes you witness, answer.

Another change we may notice. When our fathers came hither, the only dwelling they found were Indian wigwams, the smoke of which was seen here and there curling up in the very midst of the forests; their own dwellings, at first, were log-houses, rudely constructed, and few in number. Now, as we pass along our roads, we observe on either side, and, in some places, compactly situated, dwelling-houses of various forms and sizes, some new, and others exhibiting signs of age; scarcely any of them, indeed, elegant; but nearly all betokening comfort. In regard to neatness of appearance and taste in their construction and position, there is room for much improvement. Still most of our dwellings are abodes of comfort. In many of them are individuals who are by no means strangers to rural felicity. They do not, indeed, dwell in splendid domes, nor are they vexed with the cares and anxieties of those who usually inhabit such structures. Of many an individual here, may we says in the words of the poet:

“Sure peace is his; a solid life, estrang’d
To disappointment and fallacious hope;
Rich in content; in nature’s bounty rich,
In herbs and fruits.”

Within two centuries, a great change has also taken place in the inhabitants themselves. When our fathers came hither, they found no inhabitants but Indians. These have all passed away. Not one of them remains. The smoke long since ceased to ascend from their wigwams, and their wigwams themselves have entirely disappeared. Their hunting grounds have been broken up and transformed into cultivated fields, and even their graves are now unknown.

But “our fathers, where are they?” They, too, are gone. Death has been busy among them, and has swept them away. About six generations have gone down to the grave since the settlement of the town was commenced. We pass by yonder graveyards, and the stones which affection has erected in memory of departed friends, remind us of the ravages of mortality. But upon the stones themselves the hand of time has not been inactive. Many of them are fallen; some have crumbled with the dust they were intended to commemorate; from others the inscriptions are worn away, so that only the position of the stones indicates that a grave is beneath them. The graves of those who died during the first half century from the settlement of the town, are now unknown. Their inmates have mouldered to dust, and will continue mingled with other dust, and undistinguished from it, until the morning of the resurrection, when their dust, though for ages scattered abroad, shall be collected again, and the bodies, which mouldered so long ago will be reanimated, never more to decay.

If time permitted, it would be interesting to notice the changes in regard to the means of mental and of moral improvement; to point out our superior advantages, arising from the multiplication of books; from the improved character of our common schools; from the academy in our midst; and from the establishment of Sabbath schools, furnished with libraries, adapted to expand the intellect and improve the heart.

The period we have been considering forms an important portion of the history of the world. I cannot, however, even glance at the mighty political and moral revolutions which have occurred since its commencement, in different parts of the earth. To illustrate its importance, I will merely observe, that, if we go back through a little more than nine such periods since our town was settled, we shall find our Saviour on earth, “going about coing good.” And we need not go back through quite thirty such periods, to arrive at the time when “the earth was without form and void;” when God said, “Let there be light and there was light;” when “the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.”

But on this interesting occasion, it is not necessary to confine our attention to the past. Our thoughts naturally and unavoidably run forward into futurity. Let us allow them to range freely. Let us pass onward, in our imaginations, through another century. At its close, we may suppose the people here will assemble, as we have this day done, to review the occurrences of the past. And it is probable that the third century of our history will exhibit as great and as interesting changes as either of those already past? Let us, in imagination, take our stand in the assembly that will then be convened. All will be strangers to us;–not one countenance with which we are familiar. Where then will be the people with whom we are now associated? Death will have swept them all away. Yes, every individual of this assembly will then be sleeping in the dust, as our ancestors now are. Not one of us will participate in the exercises of that occasion. What other changes will take place within one hundred years, we know not. We cannot doubt that they will be great and important. Their character will, unquestionably, depend in some measure on the course pursued by the present generation. Let us, then, consider well what duties we have to perform, and pursue such a course, that “future generations shall rise up and call us blessed.”

 


Endnotes

1 John Winthrop, Jr., and Mr. Rawson—probably Edward Rawson—were two of this committee. The name of the other is gone from the records of the town.

2The names of some of the first settlers of Hampton are found in the Massachusetts Colony Records. Dr. Belknap has given them in his history. The following is his list:

Stephen Bachelor, Thomas Molton,
Christopher Hussey, William Estow,
Widow Mary Hussey, William Palmer,
Thomas Cromwell, William Sergeant,
Samuel Skullard, Richard Swayne,
John Osgood, William Sanders,
Samuel Greenfield, Robert Tucke,
John Molton, John Cross.

The four names still not found in the town, are Bachelor, Molton, Palmer, and Tucke. Three of these names are now spelled in a different manner.

3 The writer referred to, is Edward Johnson, author of a work entitled “Wonder Working Providence of Zion’s Saviour.” The following is an extract from this work: “Much about this time [1639,] began the Town of Hampton, in the County of Northfolk, to have her foundation stone laid, scituate near the Sea-coast, not farre from the famous River of Merimeck, the great store of salt marsh did intice this people to set downe their habitations there, for as yet Cowes and Cattell of that kinde were not come to the great downfall in their price, of which they have 450 head; and for the form of this Towne, it is like a Flower-de-luce, two streets of houses wheeling off from the maine body thereof, the land is fertile, but filled with swamps, and some store of rocks, the people are about 60 Families; being gathered together into Church covenant, they called to office the reverend, grave, and gracious Mr. Doulton, having also for some little space of time the more ancient Mr. Bachelor to preach unto them also.”

4 From a vote of the town passed several years afterwards, it appears, that the land divided at this time was only the Low Common, so called, lying in the northeast part of the town.

5 I have made no attempts to give a full history of the town. It is desirable, however, that some person, qualified for the undertaking, should prepare and publish such a work. Abundant materials, at present, exist; but they are every year diminishing. Hampton being one of the first settled towns in New-Hampshire, it for many years formed an important part of the Province. Its history must, therefore, be interesting and useful. Well written histories of the several towns settled at an early period, would be invaluable documents to any person preparing a history of the State.

6 The record of the first vote mentioned, offering a bounty for killing a wolf, is in the following words:

“The 27: 11 mo; 44. It is hereby declared that every townsman which shall kill a wolfe & bring the head thereof 7 nayle the same to a little red oake at the northeast end of the meeting-house—They shall have 10s. a woolfe for ther paynes out of the towne-fines; or otherwise, if noe fines be in hand.”

 

7 Belknap.

8 In Farmer and Moore’s Gazetteer, it is stated that Locke was killed in 1694. The date given here rests on the authority of Hampton Records.

9 The meeting at which these delegates, or commissioners, were chosen was held January 20, 1689-90. After a preamble, mentioning that commissioners had been chosen by the people of Portsmouth and of Dover, and that the people of Hampton had been invited to pursue a similar course, the determination of the town is expressed as follows:

“We therefore ye Inhabitants of the Towne of Hampton in answer to their request have agreed to send thes sixe persons as our comishoners to joyne with ye comishoners of ye other Towns in ye province to confer about and resolve upon a method of Government within this province—And what ye sayd comishoners of the whole province or the majer part of them shall conclude and agree upon as to ye setelment of Ensign Henry Dow, Mr. Nathaniel Wire, Capt. Sauel Sherrborne, Morris Hobs Senior, and Mr. Edward Gove, in discoursing and agreeing about ye same, if they or ye majer part of them shall se just cause to comply and agree with the other comishoners as to ye way and method of Government that shall be settled amongst us And shall subscribe thereto—We the Inhabitants of ye Towne of Hampton reposing espeaciall Trust and confidence in our sayd comishoners, what they shall agree to, or the majer part of them. We shall hould as good and valued to all intents and purposes; Hereby obleidging our Selves to yield all ready obeadience thereto, until Their Majesties Order shall arrive for ye Setelment of Government over us.”

 

10 “On the 2 of the 2 mo; 1649:”
“The selectmen of this Towne of Hampton have agreed with John Legat for this present yeare insueing—To teach and instruct all the children of or belonging to our Towne, both mayle and femaile (wch are capiable of learning) to write and read and cast accountes, (if it be desired) as diligently and as carefully as he is able to teach and instruct them; And so diligently to follow the said imployment att all such time and times this yeare insueing, as the wether shall be fitting for the youth to com together to one place to be instructed: And also to teach and instruct them once in a week, or more, in some Arthodox chatechise provided for them by their parents or masters.
“And in consideration hereof we have agreed to pay, or cause to be payd unto the said John Legat the som of Twenty pounds, in corne and cattle and butter, att price currant, as payments are made of such goods in this Towne, and this to be payd by us “John Legat entered upon scholeing, the 21 day of the 3 month, 1649.”
Town Records.

11 The Massachusetts Colony Records say that he was removed from the pastoral office for “contempt of authority.”

12 Rev. Timothy Dalton was once a minister in the church of England. Being a non-conformist, he was obliged to relinquish his office, and leaving his native land he came to New-England. About the year 1637, or 1638, he was admitted as a freeman at Dedham, Mass. Soon after he came to this town, where he was settled in the ministry in 1639.

Sermon – Civil War – 1861


William Rounseville Alger (1822-1905) preached this sermon in 1861 on the Civil War.


sermon-civil-war-1861-1

OUR CIVIL WAR, AS SEEN FROM THE PULPIT:

A

SERMON

 

PREACHED IN THE BULFINCH-STREET CHURCH,

April 28, 1861.

BY

WILLIAM R. ALGER.

SERMON.

Isa. Ii. 3: “COME, LET US GO UP TO THE HOUSE OF GOD, AND HE WILL TEACH US.”

Many ministers think it best in their sermons to pass by the outer convulsions of the hour, without notice. “These agitating topics,” they say, “excite the people all the week. Newspaper, shop, street, parlor, each avenue of society, every crevice of the world, are filled with their vexing buzz and fever from Monday morning till Saturday night. When Sunday dawns, and to the notes of holy bells we gather in the sanctuary, for God’s sake let there be a truce to the harass of temporal themes and conflicts. Let us, in the sweet communion of Heaven, enjoy a respite from the harsh jars of the earth. Here we will forget the strife and turmoil that have lacerated and wearied us, and busy ourselves only with penitence and worship, with the great realities of faith and sanctification, wooing down to our jaded bosoms celestial hopes and peace.”

This strain of thought is so plausible to reason, so congenial to the pious sentiments of the soul hungering for something better than the material issues of the moment, that I do not wonder it is so often acted on, and even set forth as the only justifiable course for a Christian preacher. Yet, if taken without qualification, there is a large infusion of sophistry in it. In the first place, it is, to a great extent, vain to try to do this, however desirable it be in itself. The uppermost questions of the time are not so easily dismissed on crossing the threshold of a church. The profound excitements that upheave a community, the startling events of disaster or triumph that thrill every member of a society, the appalling or magnificent emergencies that suddenly confront a people, setting every passion on fire and every thought a-vibrating, will not drop out of sight because the bell has tolled, nor cease to urge their importunate claims because yon preacher is arguing the inspiration of the Book of Jonah, or defending the metaphysics of the Westminster Catechism. They will be thought of, in spite of all attempts to banish them. Who, that has a heart to feel and a mind to reflect, can forget the portentous tidings with which these hours are teeming, the storm of revolution bursting around the Capitol, the alarming throes of the country,—all he holds dear, as scholar, patriot, and philanthropist, staked on the result? The sensitive moral ligaments that connect the individual with the body politic are too numerous and powerful to admit of it. The other day, I saw a little bird perched on the telegraph-wire that stretched away towards Washington, gaily chirping there, unconscious of the momentous messages shooting under him. “Ah! Happy creature,” thought I, “well may you toss your careless notes to the sky. You little dream what fearful throbs, in the bosoms of this swaying crowd below, answer the magnetic shocks of intelligence that fly along the line on which you poise in ignorant and blissful innocence. You know not that confederate traitors are striving to tear down and scatter on this Western strand the fairest nest of freedom and happiness humanity has yet built on the bleak earth.” That guiltless warbler’s little life is no type of ours. Our intense, widely ramifying knowledge and sympathy, set in quick connection with all the forces and events of time and nature, compel us to think with the most earnest tenacity on the most pressing interests and problems of our life. Therefore, if the preacher would not speak to the unheeding air, he must in some degree forsake technical abstractions, and treat those living issues of the time which are absorbing the attention of his hearers.

Furthermore, why should we wish to avoid this course? Is it not right that we should take the great affairs of life up to a higher range than that of our average moods, and there interpret them, and seek to guide them in the light of the most exalted considerations? Is it not the best thing we can do, to bring the severe exigencies of life with us into the church, and survey them from the high, calm vantage-ground of the altar of prayer? To do otherwise is to ostracize the largest portions of experience from the sanctuary as profane, and make religion a formal thing, quite apart from the living work of the world. However some may say, “We undertake solely to expound the Bible and to preach Christ crucified,” I am compelled to take my stand with those who think that the Crucifixion and the Scripture are not ends to be contemplated for themselves, but means to a practical good beyond,—that to inspire mankind with the spirit of self-sacrificing love, this to lead them to rectify their conduct by the lines of righteousness and piety: so that the preacher best fulfils the functions of his office when he most effectually urges his hearers to follow the teaching and example of Christ in their daily lives, forming their characters and guiding their actions by the principles of a sound morality and the sentiments of a pure religion. The preaching that sets forth an abstruse theory of the atonement, generally passes for nothing: the preaching that tries to show how we can harmonize our tempted lies with the law of God, naturally bears fruit. Who cares at this moment to know how many wheels the chariot of Pharaoh had when it sank in the Red Sea? He who can tell us how best to gird up our loins for a cheerful support of present cares, and a hearty discharge of the morrow’s duties, speaks to the real wants of the time and to the responsive hearts of men. To occupy such moments as these in describing the hypothetic details of the Israelitish march out of Egypt and through the dry bed of the deep is work fit only for a fossil preacher. The topic that summons ministers who sympathize with their people, and look ahead, is, How shall we safely carry our blessings and hopes through that Red Sea of battle whose first bloody spray already sprinkles the skirts of our country?

You will, ere this, have anticipated the subject of my discourse: Our Civil War, AS SEEN FROM THE PULPIT. The dire catastrophe of domestic struggle impending over our land agitates every breast, calls forth the anxious speculations of every mind. Through the lifelong week, it is looked at in every material aspect from the various stand-points of the world,—the counting-room of the merchant, the camp of the soldier, the council-chamber of the ruler, the public hall and street where the eager crowd interchange their views. Self-interest fumes with indignation, or droops in fear; loyalty grasps its good blade, and vows, wherever the flag waves, to defend it, or die; the leaders construct their plan of operations; every group of talkers represents some who are pale with grief and foreboding, others who are hissing-hot with passion. Under these circumstances, is it not well to go up into the house of God, and survey the ominous subject from the position of Christian principle and sentiment? Do we not need to lift the all-engrossing theme out of the secular vortex of pecuniary interests and partisan prejudices into the holy quietude of Sunday and the church, and there study it in the light of morality and religion to find what our duties really are? I am not willing to abandon such momentous concerns utterly to the worldly instincts and policies of men. I claim them as lying within the jurisdiction of that moral order which expresses the Divine Will, of whose requirements and sovereign authority the preacher is the instituted expounder. Come, therefore,—now that a fratricidal struggle lowers in front, ready to break in all its horror,—“let us go up to the house of God, and ask him to teach us.”

The first word our civil war, as seen from the pulpit, should force from us, is a protest against the intrinsic brutality, folly, and crime of this mode of settling controversies. It is a relic of barbarous ages, which we ought to have outgrown long ago, and every recurrence of which is a ghastly satire on our boasted civilization. Look at it dispassionately for a moment. Two States quarrel. What out to follow? Why, forbearance, mutual conciliation of prejudices, common adjustment of claims at the bar of moral truth and right as declared by competent expounders. This would peacefully settle every difficulty, and prove, that, in the long-run, the welfare of each is subserved by the rights and interests of all. Instead of acting thus, to rush to arms in frenzied haste and hate, lay harmless villages in ashes, tear thousands of innocent persons in pieces with infernal implements of slaughter, fill the land with wailing widows and orphans, and at last decide the dispute by the unhallowed rule of might, is conduct unworthy of cultivated men,—conduct which Christian thinkers cannot exult in, but must rather weep at. War is a discord in the music of humanity, a clash in the machinery of society, the accompaniment of a fearfully imperfect civilization; not in any form an exemplification of the will of God, but the horrid work of wicked men; to be profoundly lamented, avoided whenever it consistently can be, utterly left behind as soon as possible. The natural influence of each fresh outbreak of it is to blight the industry and bankrupt the resources of a country, and to inflame and give a new lease of power to that combative spirit which is from beneath. Now, as ever,—nay, more than ever,—it becomes the preacher to give emphasis to the fact, that war is not a glorious opportunity, to be coveted and to feel proud of, but a tremendous evil, which good men can accept only in stern sadness, as a necessity forced on them by the savage passions of a sinful age. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you;” “Love your enemies;” “Resist not evil,”—are expressions of the perfect law of society towards which we must aim. To conform unhesitatingly to that law, in the present state of men and things, is impossible, would be self-destructive. Yet we must not forget that that is the absolute standard of duty, and that every thing opposed to it, or short of it, is a temporary concession to imperfection and crime, which we ought to regret, and strive as speedily as possible to outgrow. We study the pure laws of mechanics, the fixed truths of theoretic science, although they cannot be reduced to practice without large allowances on account of atmospheric pressure and cohesive abrasion. Neither should we overlook the pure laws of morality, and forswear our ultimate allegiance to them, because they must sometimes be partially broken in the shocks and attritions of the present perverse and incomplete state of mankind.

In the swallowing flood and tempest of patriotic fervor surging through the popular breast at a time like this, moral boundaries and lights, which ought ever to be firmly perceived and adhered to, are very apt to be blotted out by the swash of emotional sophistry. For instance: it is said, “To go to the conflict, and to cut down the foe without mercy, is a religious duty.” I think this is putting the matter on a false ground, confounding things wholly distinct. I say, to fight down this infamous rebellion is not religion in any sense at all, but is a civil obligation, a social necessity rising superior to every thing else, and, for the time being, putting religion into abeyance. Religion is purity, prayer, and peace; to subject the passions to the conscience; to be meek and pious; to forgive injuries; to love our neighbors as ourselves, and God with all the heart. War is, to let loose the destructive elements of our nature, to brook no insult, to suppress opposition, to burn and kill. Now, this is to be justified, not by baptizing it with the abused name of Religion, but by recognizing it as one of those emergencies in the career of a nation, where the supreme instinct of self-preservation asserts itself unto the temporary subordination of every other authority. Morality is the system of usages rightfully administering the life of a nation. Religion is the loving and reverential spirit rightfully animating those usages, and giving them celestial emphasis and direction. War is neither the rightful rule nor the rightful spirit of a nation’s life, but the instinctive resource of a nation in self-defence when its life is threatened; its re-actionary self-vindication when its material existence, the government, or its spiritual vitality, the public honor, is assailed. Obviously, on the inevitable ground of instinct, life itself must take precedence both of its formal rules, or morality, and of its flowering spirit, or religion. The genuine justification of our military attitude and work in this crisis rests on the basis of civil obligation and social necessity, not on the basis of ethical right and religious duty. You might as well say it is a spiritual duty to eat and drink; whereas the truth is, that eating and drinking are instinctive acts called forth by the approaches of hunger and thirst towards the citadel of our existence. When you must fight, for life, justice, or freedom, do it with a will; but leave the serene sanctities of religion celestially enthroned,—their loving service to be returned to at the earliest moment. Do not profanely drag them down, and identify your fighting with them.

War, then, let it be repeated, is a violation of the precepts of pure Christianity; the horrible scourge that follows injustice and pride. Christ, who was the Prince of Peace, said, “Put up your sword; my kingdom is not of this world:” “Do good unto them that hate you:” “If a man smite you on one cheek, turn the other:” “If your enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst give him drink.” How any minister of his can deliberately stand in the sacred desk, and hail civil war with gladness, gloat over it, and jubilantly hound his people on to the fray, passes my comprehension. I can only feel justified in saying, Since this dread calamity has been forced upon us, sorrowfully and solemnly let us accept it; trusting that God will overrule the evil to some great good, and sternly determined never to retreat an inch nor yield a tittle until the right is vindicated, and impartial freedom set on high.

Having protested against the evil of martial strife, and accepted it only as inevitable compromise with the pressures and frictions of selfish ambition for keeping the rightful framework of the Government in legitimate action, the second word needing to be said, when we look at our civil war from the pulpit, is, Let a careful guard be kept over the lower passions which such a crisis naturally evokes and stimulates. Let not reckless wrath and desire be permitted to preside over the utterances and doings of the exasperated hour, but see that reason and conscience are maintained in their proper seats of authority. The true patriot loves his country, not as a bear loves his den, but as a poet loves beauty, as a philosopher loves truth, as a saint loves his God. No matter what provocations are furnished, the animal thirst for vengeance must be kept down, if we would show ourselves worthy of our professions as members of a Christian community. Men of cultivated minds, men educated in morals, bridle and subdue those base impulses of hate and retaliation which are still organic in the wild blood inherited from the primitive epochs of humanity. They have learned to forbear and to forgive. They are capable of magnanimity. Above all, they practice accurate discrimination; striking for justice, but not pursuing revenge. Passion is inherently diffusive and indiscriminating. Its ravenous madness devours all barriers, overspreads all boundaries, would lave and infuse the universe with itself. It belongs to ethical reason—that is, conscience—to observe distinctions; to draw accurate lines, and abide by them. Consequently, at this moment, when an unparalleled excitement pervades the pervades the public mind, and fire courses through the veins of the national organism, it behooves the pulpit to stand calm and firm, like a column of the Lord, to stay a little the fury of the torrent, not lend it added impulse, while the Christian preacher cries to the unloosed passions of men, “Beware of excess, beware of error; distinguish self-indulgence from duty; be careful to do nothing but what is right.” In a time like the present, to refrain from rash judgments, to admit no evil exaggeration, but only to feel and act just as a high-minded, moral, and religious man is justified in feeling and acting, is no slight task. All the more should we watch our impulses, and rule them by correct principles. Are you tempted to say, as I heard a man say in his boundless indignation, “Baltimore ought to be shelled till every house is in ashes, to avenge the insult it has offered the country; and then its whole territory should be sown with salt, as a warning for the future”? Pause, and think what it is to shell a city of two hundred and twenty-five thousand inhabitants, two-thirds of whom are women and children, and with fire and sword blot out their homes for ever. You will quickly retreat and repent your hasty ebullition; as, indeed, you would never have done anything of the sort, had it been left to your decision. You will say, “Let twenty federal regiments march through Baltimore, harming no person who behaves himself, but instantly shooting dead every man who offers overt opposition to their passage. That will be quite enough.” But there is an inconsiderateness, a cruelty, in these sweeping speeches, very pernicious even when they are merely speeches. Say not, “The South ought to be wiped from the face of the earth.” Cool down the generous passion that is flaming so much too high, and soberly look at the facts. The millions of the South are members of the one human family of God, with the same faculties, rights, affections, hopes, and fears as ourselves. They are our own countrymen, individually linked to us by the dearest ties of love and blood, and bound up in one destiny with us. Not one in twenty of their entire number is in the least degree directly responsible for the outrages that have sprung this immense exigency upon us. Pampered with indulgence and vanity by the unfortunate nature of their inherited and fostered institutions; shut up in a proud ignorance by their isolated plantation-life, without any of that organized instantaneously diffusing intelligence which snows books and newspapers on our free cities and hamlets; at the mercy of the unprincipled demagogues who flatter and deceive and provoke them with monstrous compliments for themselves, and more monstrous slanders against the rest of the country; deludedly cherishing the deadly cancer and virus of slavery, as if it were the heart of their body politic; honestly thinking, that to gratify and feed fat their haughty lust and sloth at the expense of a downtrodden and helpless race of inferiors is to exhibit the highest style of civilization yet attained on earth; unsuspiciously believing that one half of the North and West are set with diabolical energy of malice on destroying their patriarchal fulfillment of the precepts of the Bible, the other half ready at any instant to fight unto the death to prevent the departure of this abolitionist crusade against the Southern paradise,—seeing these facts, we cannot but recognize large excuses for them, and feel more sorrowful than revengeful. We cannot honorably nourish ferocious sentiments towards them, however copiously their colossal Sin causes them to nourish such sentiments towards us. We cannot, with a spark of Christianity in our hearts, cry “havoc!” for a war of extermination on them. We must, it is true, oppose the most uncompromising resistance to their insolent pretensions, and rally in overwhelming power for the everlasting suppression of their criminal designs. But, while doing this, let not the spirit of hatred and vengeance run riot. Let us commiserate their general ignorance and domestic peril, correct their errors, sympathize with their misfortunes, pity their infatuation, exercise towards them the utmost forbearance that is reconcilable with the honor and safety of the Government, and that squares with the claims of moral law.

And now, contemplating still further our civil war as seen from the pulpit, it is particularly timely to utter one word more of caution; and that is, Let there be among us no illegal manifestations of antipathy towards individuals whose sympathies run counter to the common tide. Every good citizen, every true patriot, every Christian man, every person of high-toned independence and sympathetic catholicity, should sternly frown on every attempt, on whatever pretext made, at a violent interference with the most unrestricted exercise of his civil rights by any member of the community. The mobocratic spirit is the deadliest enemy of republican institutions; the most ruinous and fatal element that can gain admission into a city or a state. It has been allowed altogether too frequent and too large an entrance in many parts of America. Good men, just and true men, who respect the law, who love their country, and pray for her peace and welfare, should spare no pains to prevent the sufferance of a mob, on any excuse whatever; to put down, and punish remorsely, every overt instance of the riotous disposition. There is no permanent safety else. Permit a mob of gentlemen, in violation of law, genteelly to put down what they dislike to-day, to-morrow a mob of ruffians may reverse the tables, and, in violation of law, more harshly suppress what they dislike. Invoke public odium now against a despised minority whom you hate, saying to Judge Lynch and his myrmidons, “at them!” and a little later some epidemic revolution of public feeling, giving them the popular support, may place you among the hated few, and the coercing crowd whom you taught the evil lesson will tear your house down and mutilate your body in the streets. A mob and its anarchical rule should never be tolerated in a free country like ours. It is fraught with the direst retribution, sure to burst at last. Look at Baltimore,—given over to bullies for weeks, made despicable in the eyes of the earth, every peaceful avocation paralyzed, shuddering with terror at herself, her best citizens fleeing every way in dismay. Twenty-five years ago, had a shower of bullets been promptly planted in the skulls of three or four hundred of the “Roughs” of that notorious locality, the woeful spectacle of today would have been spared.

New England, perhaps, has seen fewer and slighter manifestations of this lawless and tyrannical spirit than most other parts of the country. God grant that she may see still less of it in the future! Especially in a crisis like the present, when the provocatives to it are often so aggravating, let us scrupulously guard against its outbreaks. We take up arms in the sacred name of Law, against rebels who repudiate their oaths and trample Law under foot. We complain of the slave-power, that it is accustomed to mob unprotected strangers and odious citizens. Let us not imitate what we have condemned, and dishonor our position and watchword by a bitter intolerance of dissent from our views, by petty persecutions of helpless individuals. If a newspaper aids and comforts treason, do not stone its office; do not compel its affrighted editor hypocritically to wave from his window the flag to which he did not spontaneously cling. Simply take your names from its subscription-list, and leave its recreant publisher to the condign contempt of the public, and the infamy that waits in the verdict of history. That is enough. In the name of moral decency, touch him not. Your blood may burn at hearing a man express his sympathy for traitors, his adhesion to slavery and subserviency, his murderous hostility to his own Government; but let a wall of magnanimous scorn protect him. He stands almost alone, a malignant alien, amidst millions of glowing patriots. Harm not a hair of his head. If any glory is to be won in the tyrannizing of maddened multitudes over obnoxious individuals, singled out in their estrangement and helplessness, let it be monopolized by the South, where civilization is nearer on a level with such deeds than it is in Boston,—the example of some very honorable men to the contrary notwithstanding! The law should take care of active traitors; but, for the sake of civil order, honor, our good name, I hope not a finger will be lifted anywhere in New England against the person or property of the talking malecontents, of whom it were no less than a miracle if there were not some among us.

The foregoing points I have dwelt on somewhat at length, because they are in particular danger of being overlooked or forgotten in the rushing flood of patriotic excitement which is carrying us all away. The points remaining to be considered may be treated more briefly, since their conclusions have already been reached by the general mind, and the hearts of people are fully wrought up to the pitch of their requirements. Deploring the vast evil of war, but accepting it as a necessity under the conditions; resolving to fight, not in hate, to wreak vengeance on our foes, but in a sentiment of obligation, to uphold the national life; taking as a motto, “The inviolable supremacy of law and order,” and setting our faces against every form and instance of mob-rule,—what next is our duty, as it appears when looked at from the pulpit?

Certain of the justice of our cause, we must rally around the Government in loving allegiance, and face the onset with invincible will. We have with us, as we advance, the moral truth of the case, the intrinsic strength of the country, the sympathy of civilized man. How can we falter, or entertain a single misgiving? The adversaries against whom we stand arrayed are triply in the wrong,—wrong in the cause they fight for, wrong in their unprovoked commencement of the war, wrong in the unprincipled measures and spirit of their policy. After virtually monopolizing the legislative direction and official patronage of the country for the greater part of fifty years, their party was fairly defeated at the ballot-box, to which they had willingly appealed under a common obligation with us. They instantly refuse to abide the result; swear they will never submit to the rule of their opponents; and fly to arms, determined to establish an oligarchy of their own to perpetuate their darling institution of negro-slavery. Thus they are traitorous rebels at the first start. Then they open the war, in the face of unparalleled forbearance, by defying the Federal authority, breaking its laws, trampling its ensign ignominiously under foot, firing on its unarmed vessels, and taking forcible possession of its exposed fortresses. Finally, having begun their career with gigantic feats of deliberate perjury, theft, and treachery, and followed it up by the establishment of a reign of terror over their own dissenting citizens, they propose, in sublime scorn of the law of nations, to complete it by wholesale piracy. We, on the other hand, are triply fortified in right. We fight for the Constitution and the Flag, the historic position and equal laws our fathers purchased for us at such cost, when our friends were few and our land was feeble. We stand for our whole country against the sectional plotters, who, in their enormous vanity, their mistaken hate, and their fatal infatuation, have precipitated the strife upon us in headlong aggression. We did not, in time of peace, steal from our unsuspecting enemies the money, guns, and powder with which we intended to destroy them as soon as we were in readiness for hostilities. With the money our own industry has earned, with the weapons our own hands have forged, with fair warning given, we frankly take the field to protect the archives, enforce the laws, and maintain the integrity of our country. The sentiment of Christendom levels its chivalrous lances with us against the arrogant allies of despotism and night in this insane insurrection of slavery and conceit against the open ballot-box of the nineteenth century. When we strike, if strike we must, every blow will fall in the interests of morality and civilization, God and universal liberty. How, therefore, can we fail to put a cheerful courage on, unite as one man, be willing to make every needful sacrifice without a murmur, and swear now to put this controversy through to a permanent solution?

If this be really done, the result will amply remunerate the cost. We shall be free then indeed; no longer this ulcer gnawing at the vitals of our political system; no longer this endless agitation and ever-irritating debate between North and South; no longer this dark stain on the star-sprinkled azure of our banner, greeted then with thrills of reverential delight as it dallies with every breeze under heaven. It is time our organic law and public front were made consistent with that proud manifesto of impartial freedom we have so long flaunted in the eyes of the nations; high time our Federal altar were no longer suffered to be a block on which to sell into bondage a wronged and helpless race. And things begin to look as if that consummation were at hand. The three stages of such a prodigious crime as that which the Slave States are blindly seeking to spread and perpetuate are reckless indulgence, judicial madness, overwhelming retribution. The first they have long known; the second has now set in; the third may be approaching. When the excited secessionists of Richmond, a few days since, gathered around their sculptured Washington, and placed a black man astride the solemn image of the Father of his Country, there was a condign significance in the act. They make the keeping of slaves override every thing else. It is time this fanaticism ceased, and our people were left at peace to work out the gradual perfecting of the Republic. This radical evil once extirpated, we should be repaid for all. How would our prosperity mount up, rejoicing as a strong man to run a race! How would the Genius of our country put on her beautiful garments, and arise and shine! Let us, therefore, swear together, that the days of our national slave-holding, the sole cause of our troubles, shall soon be numbered. Then the sundered States now hurled into this crucible of civil war, and soon to be compositely molten down in the fiery struggle, touched by the common memory of Washington, shall fuse into a finer metal than before; from which, moulded by his typical example, shall emerge, when returning peace and union unmask the result, our disenthralled and glorified America, a stupendous statue of Liberty.

One compensation, well-nigh sufficient to balance the evil of this convulsion, and the trouble it has put us to thus far, we already have. I refer to the glorious spectacle of the hour,—the spontaneous unanimity and uprising of our patriotic countrymen from seaboard to prairie. Unable to accept the doctrine that war is a useful safety-valve, a wholesome tonic, a hygeian gale blowing over the corruptions of peace; viewing it rather as an awful generator of bad blood, a destructive discharge of hostile passion creatively re-acting on its own source, a poisonous blast on those social and industrial virtues which most do grow in pacific times,—I should yet be ashamed not to perceive, with a heightened pulse, the indemnifying impetus given to many noble qualities of our nature by the surprising tocsin that in these last weeks has been alarming the quiet air of New England. The phrases about loyalty, the banner, love of country, which were fast becoming vapid and empty, have been suddenly vitalized,—have grown almost explosive with inspiration. The precious privileges, which we had enjoyed so uninterruptedly as to forget their sumless price, throw off their rusty common-places, burnish themselves, and put on value and splendor in our eyes. The grand principles of our higher humanity cease to be verbal formularies, and become electric truths. A little while ago, it seemed sentimental poetry, now it is solid sense and fact, which is embodied in the lines:—

“Brethren there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
‘This is my own, my native land!’
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand?”

We were absorbed in money-getting, in office-seeking, in our personal rivalries, cares, and plans. We thought we were a dry, plodding, prosaic tribe. When lo! At the first volley of the criminal cannon around Sumter, the first flap of our insulted flagon the breeze of war, a regenerate people started into heroism and beauty. Women and children contended which should be foremost in the bounding alacrity with which they proffered their services. In the public schools, a little standard hung beside the inkstand on every boy’s desk. From our valleys and hillsides, cities and farms, rich and poor, sprang up a race we had not dreamed of, emulous of sacrifice and danger, capacious of exalted sentiment; while, all the way from the White Hills to the Mississippi River, every heart throbbed with magnanimous emotion, and every tongue cried, ‘Sweet and charming is it to die for one’s country!” And far in the van of this electrifying outburst, this irresistible carnival of enthusiasm, our dear old Massachusetts, again, on the same April day, plucks the earliest laurel, dripping with the blood of her boys, and fondly lays it on her breast. With such a spirit prevailing, success must be as swift as it is sure. Because we do not carry bowie-knives and fight duels, they have fancied us cowards, have they? In the indomitable bearing of our forlorn few, beleaguered in the infamous streets of that unhappy city by thousands of brutal ruffians, let them read an earnest of the unconquerable tenacity with which, in the hour of trial, those regiments will fight, every man of whom, wherever he follows the stars and stripes, carries in his heart the idealized equivalents of Plymouth Rock, Faneuil Hall, and Bunker Hill.

Under the circumstances similar to those so finely described by Campbell, as seen by him off the coast of England, I once saw one of our proud war-ships riding at anchor of a summer afternoon. Behind her, poised on the horizon, shone a gorgeous rainbow, flushing through tackle, shrouds, and stays, wrapping every part of her form with magic fire, steeped in whose dyes the star-spangled banner floated aloft in pre-eminent glory. That rainbow typed the promise of Heaven; that ship and flag, the victorious strength of the American Government, destined to sail the seas in triumph till time shall be no more.’

* Originally Published: Dec. 20, 2016

Sermon – House of Representatives – 1860

Thomas .H. Stockton was born in Mount Holly, New Jersey, June 4th, 1808. In 1833, while stationed at Georgetown, D.C., and when but twenty-five years of age, he was elected Chaplain by the United States House of Representatives. On November 19, 1863 Thomas Stockton delivered a prayer after Edward Everett’s sermon and before President Abraham Lincoln gave his famous Gettysburg Address.


sermon-house-of-representatives-1860-1


 

SERMON FROM THE CAPITOL:
ON
THE IMPERISHABLE AND SAVING WORDS OF CHRIST.
DELIVERED,
IN THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES,
ON
SABBATH MORNING, MARCH 18, 1860,
BY
T. H. STOCKTON, CHAPLAIN, H. R.
TEXT:
“Heaven and Earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.” Matt. 24:35.
CORRESPONDENCE.
“House of Representatives,
“Washington, March 19, 1860.

“Rev. T. H. Stockton,

“Dear Sir: The undersigned Members of the House would respectfully request a copy of your salutatory Sermon, delivered yesterday in the Hall of the House. We wish it for publication, that its influence may be widely extended by the circulation we shall give to it. If it comport with your inclinations and convenience, a compliance with this request will greatly oblige
“Your friends,
“S.S. COX, G.W. SCRANTON,
JNO. HICKMAN, W. HOWARD,
E. JOY MORRIS, THOMAS B. FLORENCE,
THOS. A. R. NELSON, JNO. G. DAVIS,
A. A. BURNHAM JAS. C. ROBINSON,
JOHN McLEAN, J. W. STEVENSON,
JNO. A. BINGHAM, ROGER A. PRYOR,
ROBERT McKNIGHT, C. L. VALLANDINGHAM,
JAS. B. McKEAN, J. K. MOORHEAD,
E. B. FRENCH, C. B. SEDGWICK,
JOHN HUTCHINS, WM. PENNINGTON.”

Washington, March 22, 1860.

Gentlemen:

Your request was as much a surprise as my election. Humbly trusting, however, that there is a vindicating and progressive Providence in these incidents; and wishing, most devoutly, to be enabled to answer its purposes, I respectfully commit my discourse to your disposal.

As you appropriately intimate, it is a simple salutation: prepared hastily, but not without prayer or care; designed to announce certain main principles, and connect them with suitable reminiscences and exhortations. If, in looking at the manuscript, (containing a few verbal corrections and additions of personal names,) you still deem it likely to do good, I shall be grateful for the use you may make of it.

With all respect, I remain,
Your servant, for Christ’s sake,
T. H. STOCKTON.

Hon. Wm. Pennington, Speaker of the House of Representatives.
Hon. John McLean, Judge of the Supreme Court.
Hon. S. S. Cox; Hon. Jno. Hickman;
Hon. E. Joy Morris; and other Members of the House.

SERMON.
“Heaven and Earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.” Matthew, 24:35.
We need elevation. As men, Americans and Christians, we need elevation. In our persons and families, states and churches, we all need elevation. Properly speaking, it is impossible to desire too great elevation. The woe of the world is the want of a true ambition.

To prevent us from taking unjust advantage of this truth, it is enough to remember the Gospel maxim: “For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” This maxim both commends the object and directs the pursuit.

And now – see! One day, a young Galilean carpenter, followed by a few lake-shore fishermen, entered the Temple at Jerusalem, as a company of our countrymen, from any rural district, on any day, enters this Capitol. Soon after, as they left the Temple, some of the young man’s friends invited his attention to certain fine ornaments and massive stones, characteristic of the general and incomparable richness and strength of the buildings. But he replied to them: “See ye not all these things! Verily I say unto you, there shall not be left here one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down.”

What did they think of that? What would we think of a rustic visitor, who should leave this Capitol, saying to his companions – and in a manner implying imminency of the event – not one stone of it shall be left upon another!

Strange as it may seem, that Galilean group had no little confidence in their leader; and, therefore, when they had come with him, out from the city, down the hill, over Kedron, and up Olivet, until they reached a suitable position for a wide resurvey of the scene, no sooner was he seated than they drew near to him with the question: “Tell us when shall these things be?” What then? did he withdraw what he had said, or make light of it, or intimate any possibility of mistake? Not at all. Rather, he gave them a prolonged and specific answer; in the course of which, ascending, with infinite ease, to an infinitely sublime assumption, he did not hesitate to declare: “Heaven and Earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away!” It is, as though he had said – There reposes the Holy City; girt about with all the defenses of art and nature; and glittering all over with the concentrate wealth and power and pride of a great nation, during a long succession of royal and priestly ages. There expands, pre-eminently and most impressively, the peerless magnificence of the venerated and impregnable Temple. To you, it seems marvelous that I should predict the destruction of all. But, to me, that olden glory is only as the fading pageant of a summer sunset. Look away from the city, beyond and above it. Behold the mountains round about it! Behold the firmament bending over it! Nay, let your thought exceed your vision. Think of the fullness of heaven and earth: of continents, islands and seas; of sun, moon and stars; of the divine origin, grandeur, perpetuity, and government of all. Think well of these things, and then remember – that my words are mightier and more enduring than all. Not only shall Jerusalem pass away, but heaven and earth shall pass away; and, yet, my feeblest word, the faintest sound of my voice, the gentlest breath from my lips, shall never pass away.

Did they believe him? Yes; and with good reason. They witnessed, to a great extent, the power of his words. Attracted by those words, cities were emptied and deserts filled. At his word, the “common people,” who “heard him gladly,” grew wiser than the wisest of their teachers. At his word, the hierarchs of genius and learning, of law and religion, blushed and trembled, darkening with rage or paling with affright. At his word, his humble disciples were qualified and commissioned to supercede “the wisdom of the world,” and become themselves the apostles of nations and instructors of mankind. At his word, every scene of his presence became a circle of divine enchantment: where deaf men listened, and dumb men spoke, and blind men looked, and lame men leaped, and the paralytic stood still, and the leper was clean, and the maimed made whole, and the withered restored, and the sick revived, and the lunatic calmed, and the demoniac dispossessed, and the dead, just risen from their tombs, exchanged new greetings with the pressing multitudes of the living. True, their faith was sorely tried: chiefly, when their youthful leader expired on the cross. But, he soon rose from the dead, ascended into heaven, and thence “gave gifts unto men.” Thus, their faith was renewed and confirmed, forever. Then they repeated and recorded his words; committing them, in trust, to all nations and ages. In fulfillment of the prediction specially referred to, before that generation passed away the Temple was destroyed and Jerusalem with it; and the people were scattered and their institutions overthrown. The carcass of Judaism lay stretched along the hillside, and from the whole cope of heaven the eagles of Rome hurried to the festival. Since then, the words of that young man have become the law of the world; and miracles, corresponding with those of his transient ministry, have been multiplied on a larger scale and in more enduring relations. At his word, deaf nations have listened; and dumb nations, spoke; and blind nations, looked; and lame nations, leaped; and paralytic nations have been strengthened; and leprous nations, cleansed; and maimed nations, made whole; and withered nations, restored; and sick nations, revived; and lunatic nations, calmed; and demoniac nations, dispossessed; and dead nations brought forth, exultant, from their graves. Even these miracles are “as nothing – less than nothing, and vanity,” in comparison with others which are yet to come: miracles in behalf of all nations, and of our whole race, and of the world itself. And still, with the same easy, natural, infinite sublimity as at first, he assures us all: “Heaven and Earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.”

Now, therefore, rises the all-important question: Do we believe him? We live more than eighteen hundred years after his advent. We live in a new world; unknown to the old, in which he lived, until within less than four hundred years ago. A new soil is under our feet, and a new sky over our heads. We show, on a vast area, free and unembarrassed, the best results of a thousand social revolutions. To us, the most of the old things of the old world have passed away: old governments, old mythologies, old philosophies, old sciences, old arts, and old manners, customs and usages. To us, nearly all things have become new. But, have the old words of that young Nazarene passed away from us? Or, has any new master superseded his authority over us? Not in the slightest degree! His authority is still supreme, and every syllable of his utterance as sure as ever. As it has been, and is, so it always shall be. With gratitude for our history, in vindication of our honor, and in acknowledgment of the true and only source of our power; in due remembrance of our fathers, with due respect for ourselves, and due regard for our children, I here arise, on this highest height of the nation, as a representative, however humble, of our people at large, of every State in the Union, and of the United States in whole, and thus, with lifted hand, repeat our solemn, national affirmation – our official and perpetual proclamation to all mankind – that: HEAVEN AND EARTH SHALL PASS AWAY, BUT THE WORDS OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST SHALL NOT PASS AWAY!

I contemplate the heaven and earth of the old world: the over-rulings of Providence and changes of society there. I think of the passing away of the whole circle of ancient Mediterranean civilization. I think of the dark ages of Europe. I think of the morning of the Reformation, and the fore-gleamings of “the latter-day glory.” I think of Art, and her printing-press; of Commerce, and her compass; of Science, and her globe; of Religion, and her Bible. I contemplate the opening of the heaven and earth of the new world: the over-rulings of Providence and changes of society here. I think of the passing away of savage simplicities, and of the rude semblances of civilization in Mexico and Peru, and of earlier and later declensions. I think of the gracious reservation of our own inheritance for present and nobler occupancy. I think of our Revolution, and its result of Independence. I think of our first Union, first Congress, first prayer in Congress, and first Congressional order for the Bible: and of our wonderful enlargement, development and enrichment since. And, in view of all – of the whole heaven and whole earth of the whole world; and of all changes, social and natural, past, present and future; profoundly and unalterably assured, as I trust we all are, that the truth as it is “in Jesus” is the only stability in the universe – I feel justified in invoking, this day, your renewal of our common and constant confession – that: Heaven and earth shall pass away, but the words of Christ shall never pass away. And, standing where we do, on the central summit of this great Confederacy, unequalled in all history for all manner of blessings, if we did not so confess Christ; if we did not cherish the simple confidence of his primitive disciples, and hail the coming of our Lord with hosannas; if we could ignobly hold our peace; the very statues of the Capitol “would immediately cry out:” the marble lips of Columbus, Penn, and Washington; of War and Peace; of the Pioneer and of Freedom, would part to praise His name: and the stones of the foundation and walls, of the arcades and corridors, of the rotunda and halls, would respond to their glad and grand acclaim.

But, we do confess Him! From Maine to Florida, from Florida to Texas, from Texas to California, from California to Oregon, and from Oregon back to Maine; our lake States, gulf States, and ocean States, our river States, prairie States, and mountain States, all unite in confessing and blessing His name: beholding his glory, surrounding His throne, high and lifted up, and ever crying, like the six-winged seraphim, one to another, far and near, from the North and the South, from the East and the West: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory!”

But where are the words of Christ? And what are they? He did not write them; but merely spoke them, and that during a brief ministry. Nevertheless, they were recorded: and not only such as were uttered in the flesh, but others with which the writers were inspired by His spirit, both before and after His advent – the revelations of the prophets and apostles. All alike are His words: and, here they are – in the Bible! The Bible from beginning to end, is the book of Christ. And, therefore, affirming of the whole what is true of every part, I hold up the Bible, and, in the name of Christ, proclaim to the country and the world: HEAVEN AND EARTH SHALL PASS AWAY, BUT – THE BIBLE, THE HOLY AND BLESSED BIBLE, SHALL NOT PASS AWAY!

What, then, are the words of Christ? Or, as the Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible, is the inspired and authoritative record of them – what is the Bible?

We hear much of the higher Law; and the application of the phrase to civil affairs has excited great prejudice and given great offense. But, what is the higher Law? It is said to be something higher than the Constitution of the United States. Can there be a law, within these United States, higher than the Constitution of the United States? If there can be and is such a law – what is it? I need not and will not recite inferior, questionable, and inappropriate answers here. But, is there not one unquestionable answer? Suppose it be said, that, in relation to all subjects to which it was designed to apply, and properly does apply, the Bible is a higher Law than the Constitution of the United States? Will any man, unless an utter infidel, deny this? Surely not. Waiving its practical operations, certainly, as an abstract proposition, this must be admitted as true. It may be extended, so as to include all our State constitutions, and all our Church constitutions, and all our more Social constitutions. Put them all together, magnify and boast of them as we may, not only is the Bible a higher law, but it is an infinitely higher law. For thus says the Lord: “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Therefore, also, the universal and perpetual prophetic challenge: “O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord!”

If this be not true, my mission, at least, is an entire mistake, and my commission ends. But, it is true: and, if there were no other argument to prove it true this one were all-sufficient. All human constitutions, social, ecclesiastical and civil, are changeable, and contain provisions for change: but – the Bible is unchangeable. Instead of any provision for change, it is guarded, at all points, against change. The writer of its first five books declares in the last of the five: “Ye shall not ADD unto the word which I command you, neither shall ye DIMINISH from it, that ye may keep the commandments of the Lord your God, which I command you.” And, in like manner, the author of its last five books, declares in the last of the give: “If any man shall ADD unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book: and if any man shall TAKE AWAY from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book.” And so Isaiah, standing midway between Moses and John, exclaims: “Lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look upon the earth beneath; for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment, and they that dwell therein shall die in like manner: but my salvation shall be forever, and my righteousness shall not be abolished.” Therefore, it is only in accordance with the testimony of all His witnesses, that Christ himself avers: “Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill. For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled.” And so again, in the text itself: Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.”

Thank God, for one book above amendment! “Forever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven.” And here, in our place and day, we respond to the psalmist on Zion – Forever, O Lord, thy word is settled on earth. No man or set of men; no king, priest or scribe; no popular convention, ecclesiastical council, or national congress; would dare to erase one letter from the record. Let our own countrymen, in particular, treat other books as they think they have a right to do, or feel it their duty, or make it their interest or pleasure to do; by amendment, abridgement, or enlargement, by interpolation or expurgation; not one among them, North, South, East or West, would presume to touch, with any such purpose, the sacred ark containing the higher Law of God. Here is our shrine of worship, the oracle of our wisdom, and the glory of our power.

But, a higher Law implies a higher Judge, and a higher Administrator. And who is the higher Judge? The Holy Spirit! The Spirit of truth, promised unto us to guide us into all truth; making us spiritual and giving us spiritual apprehensions; aiding us in the comparison of spiritual things with spiritual; searching the deep things of God, as contained in the Bible, and revealing them unto us. And who is the higher Administrator? Christ himself! Into whose hands the Father has committed all power “in heaven and in earth,” to qualify Him fully for the duties of this sovereign office. Does anyone object to the higher Administrator? Does anyone object to the higher Judge? Then, why object to the higher Law? They go together, are all divine, and all supreme forever. So that we may say with the prophet: “The Lord is our judge, the Lord is our law-giver, the Lord is our king: he will save us.”

“He will save us!” Blessed conclusion: without which all else were in vain, and worse than in vain. He deigns to become our judge, law-giver and king only that He may save us; and, if we do not thwart Him by our iniquities, because He is our judge , law-giver and king He will save us.

Tell me, Oh tell me, what is it we need? Do we need health, or genius, or learning, or eloquence, or pleasure, or fame, or power? Do we need wealth, or rank, or office? Does anyone of us need to be chaplain, or clerk, or representative, or senator, or speaker, or vice-president? An officer of the army or navy? A member or head of any department? A foreign minister? A cabinet officer? Or even a successor in the line of presidents of the United States? Is such our need? Oh, no! we need salvation.

What did I say in the beginning? Did I not say? We need elevation: as men, Americans and Christians, we need elevation: in our persons and families, states and churches, we need elevation. Certainly I did thus speak, and meant all I said.

Oh, my Friends! All the distinctions alluded to, such as we know them here, are comparatively little things. Greater things are in prospect; but these things, though they seem great, are really little. Pause, think, recall what life has taught you – what observation and experience have combined to impress most deeply upon your consciousness – and begin your review with the sad words, after all! After all, health is a little thing, and genius is a little thing, and learning, and eloquence, and pleasure, and fame, and power, and wealth, and rank, and office, all earthly things are little things. How little satisfaction they yield while they last, and how soon they pass away!

Ask the most successful around you, in these relations, if they have yet supplied their highest need? As the general rule, the more successful they have been the older you will find them. They have not attained their coveted posts of honor by a single leap. They have risen gradually, through years of earnest toil. And the soberness of reflection is now about them. And the anticipation of a hastening end is with them. Ask them, and they will answer: After all, we have spent our lives in little things. We yet need true elevation.

I would tell you more particularly, of whom to inquire – were it not that you would prove it in vain to seek them. Twenty-six years ago, at the age of twenty-five, I was first called to this office. Two years afterward, I served again. I now compare, though briefly and imperfectly, the present with the past. I find a new Hall and a new Senate-Chamber: but the old Hall and old Senate-Chamber are still here. I find also a new House and a new Senate: but where are the old House and old Senate? How many reminiscences crowd upon me! Forms, and faces, and voices, and gestures, and elaborate speeches, and casual debates, and social remarks, and current incidents: all impressed on youthful sensibilities, and not yet effaced. But, I cannot describe them. Where are Jarvis, of Maine; and Cushman and Hubbard, of New Hampshire? Where are Adams, Calhoun, and Choate: Davis, Jackson and Lawrence; Lincoln, Phillips, and Reed, of Massachusetts? Where are Ellsworth, Huntington, and Judson, of Connecticut? Where Burges and Pearce, of Rhode Island? Where, Allen, Everett, and Slade, of Vermont? Where, Bokee, Childs, and Cramer; Granger and Lansing; Lee, Moore, and Wardwell, of New York? Where is Parker, of New Jersey? Where are Beaumont, Chambers, and Denny; Hubley, McKennan, and Mann; Miller, Muhlenberg, and Watmough, of Pennsylvania? Where is Milligan, of Delaware? Where are Dennis, Heath, and Jenifer; McKim and Steele; Stoddert and Washington, of Maryland? Where, Bouldin, Coles, and Dromgoole; Jones, Mason, and Mercer; Patton, Stevenson, and Taliaferro, of Virginia? Where, Conner, Deberry, and McKay; Sheppard, Speight, and Williams, of North Carolina? Where are Blair, Campbell, and Davis; Griffin, McDuffie, and Pinckney, of South Carolina? Where, Glascock, Grantland and Haynes; Holsey and Wilde, of Georgia? Where are White, of Florida? And Lewis and Murphy, of Alabama? Where are Bullard, Garland, and Ripley, of Louisiana? Where is Sevier, of Arkansas? Where are Carter, Crockett, and Dunlap; Forrester and Huntsman; Polk, Pope, and Standefer, of Tennessee? Where, Allen, Boyd, and French; Graves, Hardin, and Hawes; Johnson, Lyon, and Williams, of Kentucky? Where is Ashley, of Missouri? Where are Duncan and May, of Illinois? Where, Boon, Davis, and Hannegan; Kinnard, Lane, and McCarthy, of Indiana? And where are Hamer, Lytle, and Sloane; Spangler, Thompson, and Vance, of Ohio? All these, if my quest has been rightly answered, have passed away, not only from this House, but, from the world: and, doubtless, many of their colleagues, if not already gone, are just about to follow. At least, they are not here. Scarcely a relic is left! And so, of the Senate. Where are Clayton and Cuthbert; Goldsborough, Hill, and Hendricks; Kent, King, and Knight; Moore and Porter; Southard and Sprague; Tipton, Tomlinson, and Wall? Where, the venerable White, and the good-natured Grundy, and the sharp Poindexter, and the learned Robbins, and the Handsome Linn, and the graceful Forsyth, and the sagacious Wright, and the indomitable Benton, and the gentle-tongued Leigh? Where is the easy, all-elate, sonorous, and majestic eloquence of Clay? Where, the calm, cool, clear, and massive magnificence of Webster? Where, the affable dignity, the intellectual and moral loftiness of Calhoun? Passed away – all passed away! Or, will you leave the Halls of Congress? Do you think of the Army? Where, then, are Macomb and Gaines? – of the Navy? Where, then, are Rodgers and Barron? Will you enter the Supreme Court? Where is Marshall – Chief of the Judges? And where is Wirt – Chief of the Attorneys? Or, will you at last repair to the Presidential mansion? Where, then is Jackson? Chief of the Heroes. Passed away – all passed away! How many of their companions, how many of their successors, have also passed away, I have neither time nor knowledge to declare. It is but a little while and a limited area of which I speak, and yet – what a scene of honored dust, in sacred silence, alone remains!

Oh, if I could direct you to them, and you could find them, and should ask them – after all, what is human need? Would they not say, it is elevation, it is salvation – salvation by humiliation, in accordance with the life, and death, and triumph of the meek and lowly Nazarene?

Hearken to me, this day, men, brethren, and fathers! Christianity is the most practical thing, the most immediately and substantially important thing in the universe. Visionary! Fanciful! Impractical! The occupation of dreamers, enthusiasts, and fanatics! Aha! Did I not tell you that we need elevation? How can any, how dare any prate thus of our faith?

Hearken to the truth! If we need health, it is perfect health, and that forever! If we need genius, it is perfect genius, and that forever! If we need learning, it is perfect learning, and that forever! If we need eloquence, or pleasure, or fame, or power, or wealth, or rank, or office – whatever we need, it implies constitutional and conditional perfection, and that forever!

Let me speak for you, one voice for humanity. I need a perfect soul. I need a perfect body, to contain, identify, and obey my soul. I need a perfect home. I need a perfect society. I need perfect employments. I need a perfect government. I need the fullness of eternal life, with God, in heaven. I need the attainment of my true destiny, to stand, as a perfect man, before the perfect God, acknowledged as His child, His image, and His heir.

The Son of God knew this need, and, therefore, became the Son of Man, that he might supply it. Therefore, he appeared as the young Galilean carpenter, despised and rejected of men, but loved and accepted of the Father, making peace by the blood of the cross. Therefore, already overlooking the place of His crucifixion, He uttered the memorable prediction: “Heaven and Earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.” His words are words of pardon, words of purity, words of triumph over death, words pertaining to the resurrection of the dead and the inheritance of life everlasting. Did the stones of the Temple understand Him? Did the palaces of Jerusalem catch His meaning? Did the mountains around the city, and the sky above it, startle at the sound? Did heaven and earth, anywhere or in any way, show the slightest consciousness of His utterance? Senseless, all senseless, utterly senseless, these are the things that pass away. But, something was there, nobler than all these – something destined to outlast all these, to flourish only the more, and still more forever, when heaven and earth shall vanish like the dream of a night. I mean the immortal soul! Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, the Savior and Sovereign of the world, committed His words of redeeming and sanctifying truth to the immortal soul of man, and, therefore, in form, as well as in essence and authority, they remain imperishable.

And so, my friends, in conclusion, I this day commit these words to your immortal souls, that, by God’s blessing, they may abide with you in saving virtue forever. Only four months ago, by these same fingers, the eyes of my dear little Jessie were closed in death. That was a more important event to me than the rise, progress, and fall of a thousand empires. Pity me, Oh pity me; I speak not for myself alone, but for all humanity, one voice for humanity. Think of your own homes, of those you love, and have loved, and loved only the more in death. We are all alike in these relations. And where is our hope of reunion with the lost? Ah, never would the Lord Jesus have uttered the words of the text had He contemplated merely a series of social changes. But He knew and sought our true interest. He fulfilled His humble ministry, and suffered and died that He might secure for us entire and eternal personal redemption – an elevation above all earthly things, and the enjoyment of the fullness of His grace and glory in heaven. Let us cherish his spirit and imitate His example. Let us take due advantage of His mediation, and humble ourselves before God in all penitence and faith, that, in due time, we, with Him, may be truly and forever exalted.

END.

Sermon – Eulogy – 1854


Cyrus Augustus Bartol (1813-1900) graduated from Harvard divinity school in 1835. He was a co-pastor with Charles Lowell at the West Church in Boston in 1837 and became the sole pastor of that church in 1861.


sermon-eulogy-1854

THE

Relation of the Medical Profession to the Ministry:

A

DISCOURSE

PREACHED IN THE WEST CHURCH,

ON OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF

DR. GEORGE C. SHATTUCK.

BY C. A. BARTOL.

 

DISCOURSE.

Luke IX. 2: “AND HE SENT THEM TO PREACH THE KINGDOM OF GOD, AND TO HEAL THE SICK.”

Such was the commission which the great Physician of the human body and soul gave to his twelve disciples, when he clothed them with their office of carrying on his work in the world. In prophetic metaphor, the older revelation, too, had symbolized this very likeness of the mortal frame to the immortal spirit in their common exposure to disease, when it inquired if there were no balm in Gilead, and no physician there, to recover the health of the daughter of God’s people. Nay, the pagan religion itself foreshadowed the same thing from the remotest point and faintest beginning of its mythology, owning the healing art for a sacred function. The first that practiced it, to the heathen mind was a god and the child of a god; his immediate descendants, at the same time physicians and priests, lived in the temple, and allowed none to be initiated into the secrets of their knowledge without a solemn oath; while the most famous of the Greek physicians, who founded a school and was the earliest to raise medicine to the dignity of a science, was reputed to stand in the line of the same divine descent. You know, moreover, how intimately medicine and religion have been connected by the rudest savage tribes of our own day, as well as by the most civilized races of antiquity. But, to indicate for the pulpit my theme to-day of the medical profession in its relation to the ministry,—which you will allow me to treat in the plainest and most familiar manner,—it is enough to know, that a being before whom all the deities of classic story grow pale and fade away, in his own life and in his charge to his apostles, associated the ills of the flesh with those of the mind for the merciful remedies of his gospel.

There is something very touching in his selecting, for the particular proof of his own heavenly authority, this gracious work of relief and cure to the suffering human frame; restoring from fever and palsy and epilepsy and insanity, from blindness, deafness, dumbness, death. Ah! A cordial truth did his beneficent deeds express, that he came to be for ever the friend of the human body as well as soul, redeeming them both from anguish and corruption, from the sin that runs over into the dying part, and the sickness that penetrates to the undying: for he saw, as a superficial philosophy does not, the companionship between these two natures, so intimate no thought can divide and bound their territories, and so he took the whole man for his love and tenderness; and when the age of outward miracles ceased, and the Christian believer, as such, could no longer wondrously bring back lost health to the sick man, they who religiously devoted themselves to the study and exercise of the art of healing, in worship of the Divinity that made them, and in love of their fellow-creatures, in a business essentially partaking as much as any other of piety and humanity, in some sense in this respect succeeded to the apostles and to the great Lord and Master of us all.

One of the most interesting aspects of this general statement is the friendly relation that should subsist between the professors of medicine and the ministry. Surely they should be friends. Jesus Christ has formed the bond of their amity. He is in his life their common parent. They meet in his spirit. They trace back all that is benign and holy in their several offices and highest purposes to his temper and his acts. Jealousy between them is nothing less than an affront to him who, through all Galilee, taught in the synagogues, and healed the diseases of the people; and any mutual discord, from whatever cause arising, is a quarrel in the very body of the Son of God, and as though those messengers of his, when they went out through all Judea, bearing in one hand soundness for the flesh, and in the other comfort and salvation for the heart of man, had fallen out by the way. Distrust, alienation, divorce, between these professions, so long wedded, and ever in the daily round following in each other’s track, would indeed be not according to history, or according to Christianity, or according to the best hopes and auguries of the future welfare, private or public, of mankind. Therefore let us rejoice in the wide and substantial harmony that has ever prevailed in these two classes. The minister who refers to this topic, truly should not only rejoice, but give thanks, because of a peculiar generosity of the physician’s gratuitous service to his calling, a matter of less pecuniary than moral meaning. The minister, on his part, however, should at least pay with his gratitude his respect to the skill and science of the physician, honoring his vocation, and not lightly giving, as I see it said he sometimes does, the most precious, though commonly accounted the cheapest, thing a man can give, his name and recommendation to every presumption of ignorance and charlatan’s elixir, by whose author or vender he may be entreated. It is not the less but the more necessary to say this, because, in these times of the broader diffusion of light and a growing individual independence, the once marked enclosures and high fences of all the professions are somewhat invaded; men without title or preparation choosing to argue their own case, to hold forth their own revelations, and be their own doctors. With the awakening of thought and the spread of knowledge has come the ascertainment of our ignorance; no claims, private or professional, pass as they once did; and no occupation can stand any more on the ground of mere caste, of a strange tongue or a black letter, but only on the actual benefit it can yield to human beings, in mind, body, or estate.

Yet, in this shock to confidence and loss of reverence, accruing on the universal assertion of intellectual freedom, on the reign, too, of empiric observation, and the custom here in all things of our proverbial and characteristic American haste, there is danger that men will desert the truly wise, who have patiently and expensively qualified themselves for their instruction, defence, or restoration, and foolishly rely on their own imprudence, or the shallow boasts of those who have more at heart their own gain and interest, than any benefit to their kind. To this particular disadvantage, probably no one of the professions is so grossly exposed as the medical. For, while the severe preparation required for the law may reduce the number there of mere pretenders, and while the facts and themes of religion are for the most part matters of sober, scholarly investigation,—vulgar criticism, popular and rudely practical doubt, roused in part very possibly by many contrariant doctrines, seems to have fixed on the medical profession for its especial prey or chosen quarry to pursue; so that we ought not to be surprised were its members sometimes worried and vexed in this chase of hungry questioning and skepticism, sharpened by the lively concern everybody has in an affair so near to him as his own health, especially if this running after them be shared in or cheered on by any whose social position, reputation for learning, or personal hold on the affections of others, invests them with power to hinder or further any sentiment or cause.

It should, however, be some antidote to any irritation hence, that every one of the professions, in this curious and prying age, in some way, coarser or more refined, partakes in this trial of secret insinuations or open assaults. In the wisdom of God, no less than in the folly of man, it may be best for them that they should; for the miserable jeers that charge the lawyer with cunning and selfish appropriations of the sum in dispute, the minister as a dumb dog or covert infidel, and the doctor as at work to physic his patient into the grave, may but combine with candid or subtle investigations of the basis of each several vocation to impart a more finished quality, a nobler and disinterested stamp, to every worthy member of them all. Nay, the doubtful and deliberative tone thus infused into the habit of their minds, leading them to consider well before they act or speak, to indulge or enlighten all honest unbelief in others, and to lay aside whatever might be arrogant or overweening in themselves, will, in their simple modesty, and frank confession of how little as well as how much they know, assuming no oracular airs, but, for the ancient look of mysterious consequence or magical power, putting the benign aspect of depending on true science and a higher strength to secure a humane end, make them, with more accomplished control of their art, greater benefactors to their kind. Accordingly, I believe that justice was never more sure, or health safer, or morality and religion better cared for, than in their modern hands. You will not hint a worldly motive for this declaration. The man who basely attacks his own profession, and rends the cloth he wears, is as likely to have a worldly or ambitious aim, as he that respects his guild or calling; for well said old Samuel Johnson, that he who rails at established authority in any thing shall never want an audience; and an audience is what some seem most of all to crave! But, at whatever former period any of the professions may have been exalted in a more awful or formal respect, it may be doubted whether there was ever more earnestness or vitality, than may not seldom now be seen, in their exercise of every one of them.

The provinces of the minister and the physician, which I am now particularly considering, lie so near to each other, that there doubtless is in their relations a peculiar delicacy. They must be in fellowship, or else in some degree of envy, if not collision; for wholly separate they cannot be, nor should be. Indeed, both the human mind and body are, in their disordered states, so brought under the inspection alike of the messengers of health and of salvation, or spiritual health; the affections of the inner and outer part of human nature so run into, and are often well-nigh confounded with, one another; temperament is so close to temper, habit of body so linked with habit of mind, phlegm is such a name for sloth, and a sanguine or nervous frame such a neighbor to heat and irritability; there is so much gloom or brightness in the digestion; so much kindness in the circulations of the heart, or wrath in the flow of the bile; the vapors that rise or the beams that shine in one region of our marvelous soul or structure so soon overspread the other; a permanently morbid mood of mind, as one has said, so invariably indicates physical disorder; in fine, the soul owes so much to the body, as its organ, dwelling, school, and means of discipline, and the body so much to the soul in every good disposition and holier person; and virtue or vice, soundness or disease, wherever existing, seems so to take them both for a common abode; religion itself is sometimes such a medicine, and medicine such a succor and aid to the conscience; the roots and springs of health or sickness are so much in the moral condition, and make us think so often of—-

“the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe,”—

that they who have attempted to divine in its morbid conditions this wondrous double-empire into their distinct rules may occasionally find themselves unwittingly assuming each other’s prerogatives, and trespassing or treading a little on each other’s grounds. Then, as the minister may know very little of medicine, and the physician as little of the springs of the moral life; as one may, in his meditations, have neglected the order of physical facts, and the other, in the ken scent of his observations, been drawn away from contemplating spiritual and invisible realities or principles,—they may interfere with each other, and do each some harm to the incarnate yet spiritual creature let down from Almighty Power into their associated charge. Therefore, it no doubt is best each should in general, as far as many be, occupy his own, avoiding the debatable land.

Yet, what singular opportunities are at times offered to the physician of giving spiritual counsel, peradventure all the more all the more potently because it is not precisely his technical place! How not unfrequently he has availed himself, as in duty bound, of openings for moral influence! Indeed, shall I say, it curiously illustrates the state of the case, that I have known the same worthy physician, who had complained of ministers looking after the bodies of his patients, to feel under the obligation of himself looking after and ministering to their souls! It were, in fact, but ungrateful for me to lose the memory, or omit here the mention, of my own sympathetic meetings, from time to time, with physicians on either side the bed, over the same suffering and the same death. Truly, for one, I am free to confess a sincere and unaffected pleasure, looking not with an evil eye, but with unalloyed admiration, whenever a word has been so fitly spoken, the kingdom of God preached, and the sick healed, as of old, by the same person! On the other hand, if a clergyman, not dealing in panaceas, or endorsing nostrums, or presuming to stand umpire between rival systems of medicine, should state or illustrate any of those great laws of nature that are over us, and in us, and through us all, on which human sanity hangs, and the transgression of a single one of which is sin, the generous and sensible physician, who is really laboring for the sake of God and man, will welcome the good service of his brother, as much as the farmer would the friendly hand, that, from its own concluded avocation, should come over to mow in his field or thresh on his floor. Let there be on either side no selfishness, no officiousness, no needless volunteering; but an inclination each one to do his own stint, lending help beyond only at the divine command in case of necessity; and, though they be borderers, they will, without strife or foray, live in peace.

But my purpose is not so much to adjust the terms of intercourse or mode of personal bearing between the two professions, as, being moved by the decease of an ornament of one and a friend of the other, to pay a warm and honest tribute of my regard to that to which I do not belong. The desk, whose incumbents everywhere are so indebted to that profession, may well offer, more frequently than it has done, such a tribute. At least, I shall not fail of it now according to the poor measure of my ability, partly as a token of regard for one who loved his own profession and mine both so well, and who would value honor done to his vocation, so long and nobly by him discharged and adorned, more than were it done to himself. The physician has in stewardship under God this mortal body in all the ills it incurs, or to which it is heir. It is a great and holy and most responsible trust. It seems to me so grand and tender, that I will not seek any-wise to lessen, but let it, for the moment, fill the whole field of view, that we may learn to do it and its holders more justice. I will not speak now of theology, the princely science, or alone of religion, the paramount concern, though I shall be enjoining a duty truly religious, or of the soul, the only endearing essence,—but of the body, the body which every one of us brought in hither this morning, and must lay down yonder at life’s evening,—our companion for a short stage, a poor, feeble, weary, ailing thing, but all we have to work with in this world, and which therefore, by every pain, dislocation, or infirmity it is rescued from, by every fever it burns, or chill it shakes with, by every fit which convulses it, or consumption in which it pines, pathetically appeals to us to render due credit to them who keep this many[jointed, myriad-chorded instrument, harp of thousand strings, of so universal play and turn, the true history of whose derangements would be almost as various and tragic as that of the passions of the human mind of which it is the earthly organ, in tune and repair.

Yes, honor to those who have probed he hiding-places of its power, laid open its minute cells; traced the course of its flowing streams; caught every one of the trembling nerves by which it acts or feels, communicates or receives; discovered the causes of its throbbings and its tears; snatched it so often from its most fearful jeopardizes; warned it of its many foes; hovered over it in its most critical emergencies; searched out every one of its disturbed conditions, and labored untiringly to redeem it from them all; actually converted many of its troubles, once fatal, into tolerable and curable maladies; in their devoted friendship passed night after night, as well as the lie-long day, with it, and encountered the fiercest storms that ever blew, and travelled over the most broken ways ever traversed in its behalf, never deserting it while breath remained; and, while spending themselves in outward toils, have brooded over all the elements and phenomena of nature, its grosser brother, in their relation to its symptoms, with the profoundest and most persevering study, to detect and gather every kind of material and invent every tool that advancing human knowledge could fit to alleviate its anguish, free it from the occasions of its distress, check the tendencies to disease, remove the obstructions from the way of its living nature, and lengthen out its days for the increase of human happiness and the manifestation of all the faculties and attributes of the immortal mind. They deserve well of their kind. Let them have their meed of praise and renown! Let those who have experienced their favors, if paid yet priceless, bring it! Let the pulpit yield it,—and even my weak words, for their sincerity, pass for the present hour and spot, as one of its humble signs and expressions!

Physicians, so honorably placed as we have seen in the Christian faith, one of them being styled “Luke the beloved,” have, as we well know, a corresponding rank and sphere in society. And here gain we touch on their inevitable union with the ministry. Their function, like the pastoral, is one of the threads that pass through the entire system of human life. It is one of the great bonds of union among men. Appointed to re-unite the sundered or confirm the debilitated bonds of corporeal well-being, to rejoin the dissevered ligaments, close gaping wounds, and set in motion the suspended workings of the animal frame, they are, by the unlimited reach of their benevolent and indispensable offices, also a solder and cement in the edifice of the common-weal. They do much to cure the body politic, as well as the individual constitution. The rich and the poor, the citizen and the stranger, the high and the low, the virtuous and the vile, the physician must take care of them all; and he follows the example of his Great Master in so doing. Like the central iron rod, or the main supporting beam, or the stout traversing keel, with which all is connected and on which all is more or less suspended or built, is the operation of his so strong and busy hand. None has more disagreeable, and it may be thankless, tasks than he. Yet this must be his consolation, that none comes nearer to the human heart, as well as to that which covers that heart, than the good physician who is also a good man. His chaise passing round is the very emblem of a benignant errand; or waiting at the door, an earnest to the passer-by, that good is going on within. “Who, is your physician?” is a question asked perhaps as often as any other, and always asked by friends with lively interest; and “my physician” are words rarely pronounced without a glow of emotion, if not a gush of thanksgiving, accorded to but few earthly benefactors. For all endeavor, patience, and watching, so spoken they are beyond silver and gold a remuneration to that human heart of ours which craves indeed many things beneath the sun, but above all other things hungers and thirsts for a just respect and a holy love. They that visit and heal the sick, that bring the color back into the pallid cheek, that enliven again the heavy lack-luster eye, enable hand and foot and head to resume their wonted avocations in all effort and delight of body or mind, and thus put a new song into the mouth for restoring mercy, certainly do not miss large and perhaps unequalled measures of that consideration which, second to the favor and blessing of Almighty God, is rightfully dearest to the soul. Heaven grant to them both benedictions, the human and the divine, with the grace to fulfill both the commandments,—the first of supreme love with all the heart and strength to God, and the second, which is like to it, of loving one’s neighbor as one’s self. Such the wish and prayer which the voice of this place would breathe towards them, and breathe for them up into the sky! And might I say one word further, from my theme, it would be,—May the prophecy of their friendship with the ministry of religion reach as far forward as its tradition reaches back!

But the physician, who heals and under Providence lengthens out the lies of others, must himself sicken and die. While many, through his instrumentality, remain in the land of the living, he himself may have gone. Those he raised from prostration may visit his couch, and those he rescued from the grave weep grateful at his sepulcher. A vacancy here noticeable by you all makes needless any explanation of the motive of my present subject. A form, familiar for many years, and ever growing more venerable in our eyes, has disappeared. It was the form of one who might well suggest to me the text of this discourse; for no man ever respected more either his own profession or that of the ministry, or more closely associated them together in his mind; so that once, being examined under oath as to some record he might have made, he exclaimed that “by the grace of God the name of a minister was never entered with a charge on his books”! Yet he began his career, as perhaps it is best every young man should, having nothing in particular to trust to but his own talent and fidelity, with what I have heard him in his own phrase style “the healthy stimulus of prospective want;” and, waiting quietly for his first patients, attending slowly to case after case, he laid silently, stone by stone, the foundation of his fame. Every truly noble building rests on just such a basis of deep and secret diligence; and as a great merchant once said that the making of his first thousand dollars cost him more perplexity than all the rest of his immense fortune, so is it with the first achievement, by manifest, undeniable, and unmistakable power, of all professional success. The towering reputation far seen over the land, the wide-spread practice opening through a thousand portals, reposed simply and solidly on the genuine qualities which both assured skilful handling to the sick, and bore off prize after prize in the early competitions of the literary medical essay.

But our friend did more than eminently exemplify the essential traits of a wise and able practitioner. Though he has said to me he was a physician, and nothing but a physician,—while it is utterly superfluous for me to bring the fact of his professional superiority to your notice,—he was consulted on other matters beside the hazards and extremities of mortal life. Extraordinarily distinguished for insight into the soul as well as body, joining, in fact, the physical and the spiritual, that are brought into such juxtaposition in our text; reading character as he did health or disease; leaping through obstructions to his point, with an electric spark of genius that was in him; clothing his conclusions sometimes with a poetic color, and sometimes with the garb of a quaint phraseology; employing now a pithy proverb, and now a cautious and tender circumlocution, to utter what could scarce have been otherwise conveyed, in a method of conversation, which, in its straight lines or through all its windings, I never found otherwise than very instructive,—an intuitive sagacity and perfect originality marked all his sayings and doings. He could never be confounded with any other man. Borrowing neither ideas nor expressions, he was always himself. Yet there was nothing cynical or recluse or egotistical about him. I never heard him boast himself or despise another. He had a large and warm heart, with room in it for many persons and all humanity. Though he was so peculiar, much of his heart was the common heart, as the most marked and lofty mountains have in them most of the common earth. While not a few are absorbed in some single relation, he observed and acted well in the multitude of his relations to his fellow-men. He was remarkable for this broad look and observance of all the interests, material or moral, mechanical or spiritual, of the world, and was equally at home in a question of finance or an enterprise for religion; actually, in his early life and growing thrift, giving a large part of his property for the building of a church. He had, moreover, this precious singularity, that he never seemed to belong to any one class or little social circle, but to stand well and beneficently related to all. Often have I had occasion to perceive, not only his large and cordial, but very various and wide, hospitality. He fulfilled, as nearly as I remember to have seen it, that remarkable, difficult, and apparently almost uncomprehended precept of our Saviour, in which he tells, when we make a feast, not to call to it our friends and rich neighbors, but the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind; and probably no man in this city could die, who would be remembered by a greater number of those in their necessity touched by his timely beneficence; for he seemed ever to discern the season, as well as to feel the inclination, to do good; his relief of another was less a tax or duty than a self-gratification; while he never forgot a favor he had received, he never allowed any one to feel a load from the favor he conferred. He did not wait to be asked. He did not yield to all solicitations. He preferred generally to give in his own way and of his own motion; and to no one did good deeds offer and suggest themselves more abundantly or opportunely. Before my personal acquaintance began, the first thing I knew of him was his attendance upon a sick fellow-student in Cambridge, coming often, yet refusing to receive any fee. And the next thing I knew of him was his receiving into his house, and then, like the good Samaritan with his message to the host of the inn, commending to a distant professional brother, another friend and fellow-student. It might not please him or those nearest to him, if I should attempt even partially to enumerate his bounties, so ample, to various institutions of learning, for their libraries or chairs of instruction, which in some instances may have come to your hearing; but I have reason to think that his kindness much more frequently flowed in private channels, beheld only by the recipients and the All-seeing.

Being such a hearty and unostentatious philanthropist, it is perhaps unnecessary to say, in addition, that he was a real Christian. But he belonged to no one sect or denomination of Christians. Referring all to God, taking the highest view of the divine dignity of Jesus Christ, hoping to be accepted, saved, reconciled to the Father through the mediation of the Son, he extended his sympathy and hand of fellowship to all the faithful preachers of the gospel. He was truly catholic. You will excuse me, but there must be put into any conscientious report of him, what will indeed appear as but one practical exposition of the general truth of this discourse, his repeated mention of his especial regard for ministers,—“ministers,” he added with emphasis, “not of one name, but of all;” and his deference to the ministerial office is a quality in him, certainly in these days, standing out with some prominence. Indeed, the inclination of his respect might have been embarrassing but for he fraternal and authentic good-will from which it came. His respect ever somewhat veiled his heart, protecting an exquisite sensibility, which all might not notice, and hindered him from professing the entire warmth of personal affection he felt. But a reverence for the Most High was in him wholly distinct from all other principles. His will towards men was strong. But he seemed to have no will towards God. His will vanished before the Supreme; and he would have none beside. As a physician, he looked not to his medicines alone, but to God, for success, and prayed before he prescribed.

So it was with him, with ever-increasing interest, to the last. “Pray with me” was commonly his first salutation as I entered his sick chamber. “I want your prayers: they are a great comfort and consolation.” “Pray not for my recovery.” “I am going to God.” “I wish in your prayer to go as a sinner.” “I humbly thank you” was in the pressure of his hand, as much as in the articulate motion of his lips, when the express act of devotion was over. “Next to my God, I want to be near to my minister,” referring, of course, not to the individual, but, as was his wont, the office. And, at the last, having spoken his love to those most closely related to him, just before he went, “Time, Eternity, Eternity, Eternity,” were his expiring words; knowing, as he retained possession of his mind, that he was just stepping over that mysterious causeway, hid from mortal eyes, the sight of which no fleshly vision could bear, which separates one from the other.

I need not say, for the information of any in this society, that, being thus devout, he was a willing and open-handed supporter of religious institutions. To the utmost extent of his strength and opportunity, he was a constant, as he was a happy, worshipper in this house. He was an humble, penitent, affectionate confessor of his Lord at this communion-table, from which he had been long restrained by diffidence; but, in the last year of his life, was ready joyfully to bear witness, through the emblems of the broken body and flowing blood of the Saviour, that the confidence which, whether coming or staying away, we cannot feel in ourselves, we may feel in him and in God. The square and fountain in front of this church; the marble baptismal font before this altar, much of whose expense it was one of his dying bequests should be paid by his kindred survivors, at the same time declaring his delight in its beauty, thus associating it for ever with his departure; the repair and enlargement of the room for the Sunday-school, to which he chiefly contributed, affirming to me more than once how important he considered the religious instruction of the youth among us; the libraries for the school and the parish, which he increased with special donations,—are but examples selected from the numerous fruits and demonstrations of his Christian and reverential charity. Ah! But for faith and encouragement to emulation of such good deeds, it were a sorry day for any religious body when such a benefactor dies!

In thus reporting, as truly and exactly as I am able, the positive excellencies of our friend, I intend not, as is the custom in some eulogies, to imply that they were all; when the value of any praise of mortals lies in the definite truth that leaves room for fair exceptions, while the fulsome commendation that does not discriminate is merely worthless, signifying nothing. It would be a poor compliment to one, who perhaps was never guilty of an insincerity in his life, to intimate that he had no failings, or to present any panegyric of perfection for his character; to declare that this good man and true-hearted Christian had but one immaculate side, or moral features only of absolute beauty, which would so contradict his own word and consciousness. And were I to say that his fine natural ardor went not to the least excess; that his energetic purpose in no instance was imperious; that, bent upon action, and on speedily executing his good plans, he never became impatient of debate, or did any injustice to others’ thoughts, or exercised mastery over others’ designs; or that, prospered greatly as he was in his fortunes, it was never requisite for him to struggle against the world’s getting undue possession of his mind; that he was such a paragon, he never spoke harshly or acted hastily; in short, that no defects qualified and mingled with the rare and unsurpassed nobilities of his soul; and that even unawares he favored nothing wrong, nor opposed and put down any thing right,—I should insult his honesty, and belie my own conscience, and might do despite to that spirit of grace and truth, which, above the highest human attainments, still holds the unreached standard of moral goodness and infinite glory. But, if he could set his face as flint, oh! He could pour out his heart like water; the rock of rugged strength welling with currents copious and pure, for he was a pure-hearted man; and never was a gentler or more pathetic soul, a breast quicker to throb, or an eye more moist, at any grand or affecting spectacle or tale; if he was not caressing, neither was he self-indulgent; and if his passion ever overstepped the bounds of equity, he was prompt to feel remorse, humility, and grief, as more than once I have myself had occasion to note; while his character was continually softening, improving, ripening, as he went on,—ripe, fully ripe, indeed, at last!

But the question, in regard to any among mortals, is not whether he is faultless, none that breathe or ever did breathe being such; but, after the faults are subtracted, the question is, what mass, what weight, what height of worth, is left behind. Some seem to have neither grievous faults nor shining virtues; and a man may be apparently well-nigh blameless, without being very good, as a pure ore of iron or copper is not so precious as the mineral gold, though with earth and stone intermixed. My friend always seemed to me to be the mineral gold. Nor do I know where, in any individual, to look for a larger amount of the sterling treasure. Ah, while I speak of him, I can hardly imagine him away! A vision, he rises in my path, invites my gaze, greets me at the door, sits there in the sanctuary! The intensity of this abiding presence that will not down, of this reality that will not go, is the measure of force that has been in a man. And he surely was one of the powers among us that cannot cease even here below.

It is not the habit of this place to celebrate the merits of any human being. Nor might I have done it now, save to unfold with livelier interest, through a solemn dispensation of Providence, a subject of universal concern. The characters of all human beings sink before that Holy Majesty which fills this place, and which we here assemble to adore. But God is glorified not only by direct praise and ascending prayer. He is glorified, too, in his faithful servants, imperfect men though they be. All the beauty and splendor of the earth and heavens cannot compass so fair or sublime a pitch of his glory as is displayed in the loyal and loving souls of his children. We do not honor him by hiding out of sight, or passing over in silence, aught just or worthy in his intelligent creatures; but every light of virtue, taken from under the bushel of privacy to shine out of the candlestick of a true confession before men, illuminates also, to their view, the spotless attributes of the Creator. To the Creator, as its source, we ascribe all that is worthy and good. We thank him for the fruit of the earth. We thank him for the brightness of the sun. We thank him for the better beams of knowledge, and the nobler springing from every germ and disclosure of his sacred truth. We thank him, above all, for that manifestation of his wisdom and love which we discern in his obedient offspring, and which was incarnate in his beloved Son.

Bible Society Reports

The Philadelphia Bible Society, America’s first Bible society, was officially organized on December 12, 1808. By 1816, 121 more Bible societies had been started across the nation. Below, from the WallBuilders library, is a group of reports from various 19th century Bible societies. At WallBuilders, we also have an original Bible published by the Philadelphia Bible Society.


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Daniel Webster’s Letter to the American Bible Society

Daniel Webster, a second generation Founding Father, was extremely expressive about his faith. The Daniel Webster letter below is written about the “national” (American) Bible Society and a request it received to send Bibles to South America.


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The national Bible Society has lately been called upon by the new Republic of South America to send them the Scriptures.

She is desirous of complying with this request, and although the claims, of our own destitute countrymen are urgent, and must be attended to, yet she is anxious to aid, also, at this critical period of her existence, our sister Republic. She appeals therefore, to our wealthy and benevolent citizens for their patronage in this noble work.

Danl. Webster

Benjamin Rush Personal Bible Study

Founding Father Benjamin Rush’s handwritten personal Bible study booklet entitled “References to Texts of Scriptures Related to Each Other Upon Particular Subjects.” In it he listed scriptures under various topics and wrote his own notes on those scriptures. We have included excerpts of the booklet below.


 

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Booklet Cover

 

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Rush recorded three pages of scriptures and notes regarding
“Atonement”


 

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“Universal Salvation”

Rush cataloged scriptures such as Exodus 32:11-12; Romans
5:3-4; Isaiah 49:6,8-9; Matthew 15:13; etc. under the title “Universal Salvation”


 

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“Objects of Prayer” & “Influences
of Religion on Family Prosperity”

Rush’s notes on scripture passages related to prayer and
God’s blessings
(Note: nail used in book seam)


 

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“Kindness to Strangers”

Rush lists Leviticus 19:33, Exodus 12:49, Deuteronomy 23:7
and other verses under the heading “Kindness to Strangers”


 

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“Efficacy of Prayer”

Rush’s scriptures on the effectiveness of prayer include
Genesis chapter 18 and 21:17 & 21.

 


Benjamin Rush

(1745-1813) Rush was a physician, educator, philanthropist, and statesman. He graduated from Princeton (1760) and then studied medicine in Philadelphia, Edinburgh, London, and Paris. He served in the Continental Congress (1776-77) and signed the Declaration of Independence (1776). Rush also: suggested to Thomas Paine that he write Common Sense (1776) and supplied the title for it as well as helped publish it; was Surgeon-General of the Continental Army (1777-78); and was one of the founders of Dickinson College (1783). He was an influential delegate to the State ratification convention for the federal Constitution (1787), and along with James Wilson, one of the principal coauthors of the Pennsylvania constitution (1789-90). Rush served as Treasurer of the U. S. Mint under Presidents John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison (1797-1813). He mediated a reconciliation between long time political rivals John Adams and Thomas Jefferson; was a founder of the Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of Slavery (1774) and its president; founder and Vice-president of the Philadelphia Bible Society (1808-13); member of the First Day Society of Philadelphia (1790); and a member of the Abolition Society (1794-97). Benjamin Rush is called the “Father of American Medicine” for his numerous medical discoveries.

Sermon – Church and Country – 1891


This address was given by a Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church, William Stevens Perry (1832-1898), on May 19, 1891.


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THE CHURCH AND THE COUNTRY.

FROM THE ADDRESS TO THE CONVENTION OF THE DIOCESE OF IOWA,
MAY 19, 1891, BY WILLIAM STEVENS PERRY, BISHOP.

Most gratifying to me and most encouraging are the evidences apparent on every side that the clergy generally are seeking in every legitimate way to make the influence of the Church felt on every side. The historic position of the clergyman of the Church is indicated in the old-time word applied to him as the “parson”—the “person” of the community where he dwells; the one interested in each one’s welfare; the one, above all other men, laboring for everybody’s temporal and spiritual good. One and another may voluntarily withdraw themselves from the direct influence of the Priest of God, but he is still the person to minister in spiritual things to all who do not thus refuse his kindly offices—his ministrations of grace. This conception of priestly position, privilege, and duty will make the priest of our smallest mission the ever-widening centre of spiritual usefulness for good to all men. The highways and byways are certainly open to us, and they will be found to contain numbers who will gladly respond to our efforts for their spiritual good. I like that homely old English word, “parson,” and that grander, nobler word—the connecting link of the two dispensations—priest. Let the priest by broad sympathies, by active labor, by caring for more than the little circle of avowed parishioners, and by striving to reach every soul within his reach, acquaint all within his influence of his purpose and his place, and the Church will redeem John Wesley’s watchword. “The world is my parish,” and that part of the world in and about one’s parish will become the theatre of an aggressive work for Christ which God will own and men will recognize and bless. It is a pitiful idea of the priestly vocation and the priestly commission that leads one to confine his ministrations solely to those who contribute to his support. By the terms of his ordination he is not only “to feed and provide for the Lord’s family,” but also “to seek for Christ’s sheep that are dispersed abroad, and for His children who are in the midst of this naughty world, that they may be saved through Christ forever.”

As a Bishop of a Church whose history runs parallel with that of our country; whose priests, first of all ministers of religion, held the services and administered the sacraments of Holy Church in the tongue of our English fathers on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts; whose Bishops, clergy and members were foremost in the work of colonization; whose “missioners” numbered among their most noted names those of Francis Fletcher, the first priest officiating on the soil of California, Richard Seymour the first priest of New England, Robert Hunt the first priest of Virginia; and later those of Whitefield the great evangelist, the Wesley’s, John and Charles, the preacher and poet of Methodism, each laboring for Christ and His Church in Georgia; and Thomas Thompson of New Jersey the first missionary from this country to Africa; and countless others like minded; whose also was the first convert to Christ in Holy Baptism of the aborigines in Raleigh’s ill-starred colony at Roanoke in 1587; whose cross-topped Church built at Fort St. George in 1607, was the first place of Christian worship erected on the coast stretching from Maine to Georgia, thirteen years before the Puritans landed at Plymouth; whose member and ministers founded the first American University, that of Henrico, Virginia, and the first free school, at Charles City in the same colony; whose baptized members furnished two-thirds of the signers of the Declaration of Independence and a majority of the framers of the federal Constitution; which gave us our Washington and the most distinguished of the patriots who, in the halls of Congress or on the battle-field, won for us our independence;–I cannot fail to call the attention of clergy and laity to the importance of inculcating at fitting times and under suitable circumstances the Christian duty of patriotism. We at the present juncture of national affairs, need to be reminded that, as citizens of the United States of America, we owe our country’s first discovery and settlement—our very nationality—not to Columbus and Spain and Rome, but to Cabot and England and to England’s Church. The close connection of the Church of England with our colonization and development is now established as an historic fact. The strife for the possession of the empire of the Western World was waged from the start between the Anglican and the Roman communions. Through the papal bull meted out the New World to Spain to hold as a fief of the Roman See, the Church, the Crown, the Commonwealth of England recognized no peace with Spain beyond the line—the line of demarcation beyond which Spain was to have absolute and undisputed rule. The rival communions, Anglican and Roman, were each successful in securing a moiety of the New World, but the territory we as a nation occupy was claimed and planted by England, and not by Spain or France. We may thank God that our nationality was thus based on Magna Charta, on the English Constitution, on the English common law, on the English Bible, and on the English Book of Common Prayer. Mexico and the Latin republics of the South American states may date their origin and their faith from Spain and Rome. We are the sons of Anglo-Saxon sires. Our fathers at the Revolution fought for their rights as free-born Englishmen—rights which would not have been ours by inheritance or possession had not the mother land of England successfully resisted the Spanish attempts to monopolize the Western World, and the mother Church of England sent the priest with her people and supplied the word of God and the Church’s prayers wherever her baptized children went. True as it is that in a land such as ours no state establishment of religion is either practicable or desirable, but still the fact that our communion alone is spoken of as the American Church; and that we alone, by reason of our occupancy of all sections of our beloved country; by our historic connection with the Nation’s past; by the close similarity of our general ecclesiastical constitution with that which our fathers—Churchmen as well as patriots—established for the land; and by our recognition, in prayers and offices from the very first, of “the powers that be” as “ordained of God,” shows that we are each day growing more and more worthy of our claim to be called the American Church, and to be in truth the American Catholic Church. In view of the duty so specially ours of recognizing the authority under which we live, I would urge upon my reverend brethren of the clergy, and upon the laity as well, the duty of seeking to be in touch with everything national and patriotic. Gladly would I see over every Church in Iowa, under the cross, the flag of the republic floating from spire or tower, telling of our love for country as the cross uplifted tells of our grateful recognition of the emblem of our salvation. We should not as Churchmen be a whit behind any in our patriotism; teaching its lessons in our Sunday Schools, from our pulpits, in our every-day speech. The American idea should dispossess all other ideas so far as true politics, the common weal of the commonwealth, are concerned. The love of country will, if awakened, encouraged, and developed, dominate partisanship and make us better citizens and men. We need and we should countenance in this land no organizations of Englishmen, of Scotchmen, Welshman, Irishmen, Scandinavians, Germans, French, or Italians associated for the furtherance of un-American purposes or ideas. Much less should we consent to the growth amongst us of secret tribunals with their crimes and assassinations, or the organization of men of foreign birth and sympathies trained to the use of arms. We must recognize no flag but the Stars and Stripes. Our liberties are endangered, even before we are aware, by this banding together of foreigners, who seek an asylum and a support in our free land that they may the better carry on their schemes of interference with other nations. For God and native land may well be our motto! If we are true to our country’s needs, if true to our Christian faith, we may make this land of ours “God’s noblest offspring,” even though it be the last.

Speech – House of Representatives – 1881

George B. Loring a Representative from Massachusetts; born in North Andover, Essex County, Mass., November 8, 1817; was graduated from Harvard University in 1838 and from the medical department in 1842; appointed commissioner to revise the United States marine hospital system in 1849;elected as a Republican to the Forty-fifth and Forty-sixth Congresses (March 4, 1877-March 3, 1881);


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MASSACHUSETTS.

SPEECH

OF

HON. GEORGE B. LORING,

OF MASSACHUSETTS,

DELIVERED IN THE
HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES,

JANUARY 20,1881.

Washington.
1881.

SPEECH
OF
HON. GEORGE B. LORING.

The House having under consideration the contested-election case of Loring vs. Boynton.

Mr. LORING said:

Mr. Speaker:  I ask the indulgence of the House at this time, not for the purpose of defending myself, but for the purpose of defending the Commonwealth which I in part represent on this floor.

I have noticed, sir, that Massachusetts is quite liable to be sharply criticized here and elsewhere.  In this matter now before the House she is charged by the gentleman from Iowa, [Mr. Weaver] the minority of the Committee on Elections, with resorting to an act of dishonesty, to a petty trick, in order to retain her representation in Congress and her electoral vote in spite of the deliberate disfranchisement of her citizens.  I think, moreover, her civil policy and the record she has won by her relations to the Federal Government and to her sister States have been somewhat misunderstood on a former occasion.  And notwithstanding the prompt and vigorous vindication she then received from abler and worthier sons than I am, I must beg the House to bear with me while I set forth what I conceive to be her true record as an independent State and as a part of the American Republic, her character and the course she has pursued, to do which I must go beyond the simple question before the House.

The right to hold the seat I now occupy having been confirmed by an almost unanimous vote of the Committee on Elections, I am entirely satisfied to leave the final decision of the question to the House, before whom the arguments on both sides have been liberally spread, without debate so far as I am concerned; and were there no unusual circumstances attending these arguments, I should not now step out of the course commonly pursued by contesters in the election cases, and ask to be heard.  During the two years in which I have been bound and burdened by this contest, and in which a Congress of unparalleled interest and importance has nearly passed away, every effort has been made by recount and investigation, involving a single vote in this town and that in my district, and the application of critical rules to the form of the ballot, and by fancy sketches of personal oppression and wrong, to deprive me of my legally declared election.  I think, and in this the committee seem almost unanimously to agree with me, that the questions, of this description involved in the case have been satisfactorily settled by the testimony in my behalf and by the argument of my counsel.

SUFFRAGE.

The case, however, has been carried further than this, beyond the mere details of personal controversy and of casting and challenging and counting the ballot, into an unwarrantable attack on the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, on her constitutional provisions relating to suffrage, the principles on which her laws are founded and administered, the suffrage qualifications she has imposed upon her citizens.  It is charged upon her not only that her citizens have been exposed to what is called “civilized bulldozing” but that they have been largely disfranchised by legal enactment and constitutional provision.  It is alleged in the minority report presented by the gentleman from Iowa, [Mr. Weaver,] in which is published an elaborate statement of the wholesale disfranchisement of citizens taken from the brief of the counsel of the contestant in this case, that of the 490,158 ratable polls in 1878, 113,657 are disfranchised on account of being aliens, illiterates, paupers, non-taxpayers, convicts, idiotic, and insane; and that inasmuch as only 256,332 actually voted, it follows that one-third of the voting population of the State was disfranchised.

“All those citizens of the United States,” says the report, “i.e., whose who cannot read and write, who had not paid their taxes, or are so unfortunate as at sometime in their lives to have required aid from the public, are by the laws in force in Massachusetts deprived of their vote.”

“Leaving out the idiots, insane, aliens, and convicts, it appears demonstrable that 134,256 citizens of the United States have their immunities and privileges abridged and are deprived of their right to vote in that State,” adds the report in chorus with the brief.

We are reminded, moreover, that under article 14 of the amendments to the Constitution, and under section 6, chapter 11 of the acts of 1872, “the number of Representatives apportioned in this act to such State shall be reduced in the proportion which such male citizens shall bear to the whole number of male citizens twenty-one years of age in such State,” should such State “deny or abridge these rights,” “after the passage of this act;” and it is charged upon Massachusetts that in violation of this act and the amendment on which it is founded, and for political purposes, by an act of 1874, two years after the passage of the act of Congress, she so disfranchised her citizens as to substantially diminish her delegation in Congress from eleven to eight Representatives, and her electoral vote from thirteen to ten.

In other words, the State took advantage of the apportionment according to the whole number of people granted by Congress in 1872, in order to get the representation, and then deliberately disfranchised, in the face of the law, quite two-fifths of her voters, so that a few – scarcely half – of her citizens might control it.

Now, the answer to all this is easy.  The disqualification in Massachusetts on account of illiteracy was created by the article 20 of the amendments to the constitution, adopted in May, 1857, and enforced by statute in 1860, twelve years before the apportionment of 1872 was made.  For twenty years this statute has been known and recognized of all men.  Various attempts to repeal it have failed.  The learned counsel for the contestant, Hon. B. F. Butler, whose steps the gentleman from Iowa, the minority of the committee, has endeavored to follow, knew this when on December 21, 1869, three years before the act of Congress of 1872 was passed, he declared in this House –

Everybody in Massachusetts can vote, irrespective of color, who can read and write.  The qualification is equal in its justice.  It is well that Massachusetts requires her citizens should read and write before being permitted to vote.  And there are hundreds and thousands in this country who would thank God on bended knees if it could be provided that the voters in the city of New York should be required to read and write.  They would then believe republican government in form and fact more safe than now.

Nor does this measure of disqualification, together with all those which are by the laws of Massachusetts added to it, produce the starling effect presented by the figures of the gentleman from Iowa [Mr. Weaver] or convict Massachusetts of bad faith in the matter of apportionment for Representatives in Congress and presidential electors.  Taking his figures, namely, 134,256, and of that number, according to his tables, 86,258 are aliens and therefore not citizens.  Now, add to this last the number of paupers, idiots, criminals, and insane, namely 9.271, and we have 95,529 disqualified for the above reasons, leaving 38,727 to be otherwise accounted for.  Of these 14,691 naturalized citizens and 3,437 natives, or only 18,128, are disqualified for illiteracy.

It is upon these figures that the charge of wholesale disfranchisement is based, and the demand for the reduction of the representative and electoral vote of Massachusetts is made by the minority of the committee and by one of her former representatives in this House, one who accepted the apportionment as a candidate for Congress in 1874, and witnessed as a member elect the counting of her thirteen electoral votes in the great contest of 1876-’77.

There is no ground for this charge, no foundation for this demand. Massachusetts in recognizing the propriety of qualified suffrage has done no more than has been done by all her sister States in this Union.  The right of a State to disqualify is not demanded and recognized by her alone.  With the exception of natural disqualifications, such as minority, insanity, and idiocy, the obstacles interposed by law between the citizen and the ballot-box are easily surmounted; but still they exist and enter into the system of suffrage everywhere.  In every State the citizen attains the right to vote not until he has reached his majority.  Most of the States disqualify paupers and inmates of asylums; several provide in their constitutions that they shall not be disqualified or their residence lost.  Many States require a residence of two years; some of one year, some of three months.  Persons under guardianship are, in several States deprived of the right to vote; in one, “persons excused from paying taxes at their own request;” in two, Indians not taxed.

The constitution of one of the youngest States provides that the Legislature “may at its discretion make the payment of a poll-tax a condition to the right of voting.”  Another of the youngest States, Texas, has provided that “in all elections to determine expenditures of money or assumption of debt only those shall be qualified to vote who pay taxes on property” in the city or town where the expenditure is to be made or an existing debt assumed.  In Massachusetts the constitution has provided from the beginning that every male citizen twenty-one years of age, except paupers and persons under guardianship, who shall have resided in the Commonwealth one year, and shall have paid any State or county tax within two years, may vote.  In 1857 the reading and writing clause was added.

By one of her immediate neighbors, the State of Vermont, it is provided that a citizen who is twenty-one years of age, “and is of a quiet and peaceable behavior,” may exercise the right of suffrage as his prerogative, and the political career of this well-ordered Commonwealth bears abundant testimony to the principal on which her suffrage is based.  The constitution of Connecticut requires the voter to be able to read any article of the Constitution or any section of a statute.

The variety of disqualification found in the State constitutions is interesting and important.  So far as residence is concerned some of the requirements are as follows, namely: Michigan, two and a half years; Kentucky, two years; Alabama, Delaware, Florida, Illinois, Maryland, Missouri, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Rhode Island, Texas, West Virginia, Virginia, one year; Maine, three months; California, Colorado, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Mississippi, Nebraska, Nevada, six months.  The payment of State, county and capitation taxes is required in Delaware, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Tennessee, Virginia, and some other states.  Educational qualifications exist in Massachusetts and Connecticut, the Legislature of California being empowered by the constitution to impose this qualification after 1890.  Now it will be noticed that all disqualifications arising from provisions like those to which I have referred partake in no sense of the nature of disfranchisement under the fourteenth amendment of the Constitution.  None of them are insurmountable.  None of them are analogous to disqualification on account of race or color, which is insurmountable.  And on this account they cannot be brought under any provision of the Constitution which reduces State representation or the  electoral college for the reason of disfranchisement.

In the collected constitutions, therefore, of all her sister States may be found in various forms and combinations the disqualifications which Massachusetts originally engrafted on her own.  In her more recent history, however, she has added one more, a disqualification which is easily accounted for when we consider her long and eventful career in the work of founding popular government.  To the founders of her civil institutions suffrage was the highest privilege which the State could bestow upon its most worthy citizens.  In the Plymouth colony this privilege was enjoyed only by those who were connected with the church, a hard provision for these days I fear, sir; and it was accordingly ordered “to the end the body of commons may be preserved of honest and good men, that, for the time to come, no man shall be admitted to the freedom of this body-politic but such as are members of the churches of the same;” and so “it debarred from the exercise of the elective franchise all, however honest, who were unwilling to conform to the standard of colonial orthodoxy.”

In the colony of Massachusetts Bay the people, “bent on exercising their absolute power,” were obliged to resist the influence of Cotton and Winthrop, who, with all their love of freedom, had not yet learned the true intent and meaning of popular government as we understand it.  And as late as 1778, Theophilus Parsons, afterward the great chief-justice of the Commonwealth, in his famous essay, known as the Essex Result, upon the proposed constitution of Massachusetts, suggested a senate as a body representing the property of the State, and recommended that “each freeman who is possessed of a certain quantity of property may be an elector of senators” – a proposition which was rejected by the people, who were in advance of their leaders, as their fathers were in colonial days, and who already insisted that a legislative body should represent he people and not the property of the Commonwealth.

EDUCATION.

Call this what you will, it indicated a desire and determination to lay the foundations of the State upon the best elements of society.  And it is not surprising that in later years, after a long trial of the free suffrage confirmed by the constitution, and at a time when illiteracy seemed to cast a shadow over the Commonwealth, a new qualification should have been added to those already in existence – a qualification which under the light of schools and colleges on every hand, seemed to be by no means insurmountable.  Whoever doubts the justice or wisdom or expediency of this measure cannot be unmindful that it is a crop easily grown on Puritan soil; for we cannot forget that it was the education of youth in “literature and sound doctrine” – intellectual, moral, and religious culture – which occupied the attention of those who founded the two immortal colonies which united to form the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.  They had learned the importance of this at home from the experience of their own firesides, from the dialectic necessities which attended non-conformism, from the obligation which every dissenter laid upon himself to defend his faith, from the natural impulse of a mind freed from civil and ecclesiastical bonds and left to its own independent search for truth, from the declaration of the great reformer that “Government, as the natural guardian of all the young, has the right to compel the people to support schools”.

More than two hundred years ago the feeble towns of Massachusetts, actuated by this principle even while holding a precarious existence in a savage wilderness, made grants of land for educational purposes.  Amidst the hardships and in the gloomy isolation of colonial life, the stern ascetic fathers knew and felt the first approach of sin.  Satan came among them, not clad in all the allurements and charms of cultivated and fashionable society, but appealing at once to their grosser passions, which the severe and rigorous restraints of their laws and a somewhat hard and discouraging philosophy irritated to a spirit of defiance and rebellion.  They believed in his personality, and in my own district they fought him accordingly.  They knew how prone to  barbarism is a life in the wilderness. They knew the value of that cheerful courage with which education and religion fill the heart amidst the refinements of civilized life.

And while the dark cloud hung over them, and the weight of the stern endeavor pressed upon them, and the tempter assailed the secret and hidden recesses of their hearts, and there was no relief to the gray and somber coloring of life, and there was no external beauty to cheer the soul, either of song, or picture, or church, or symbol, they frowned upon their gross and human weaknesses and turned to the school-house and the meeting-house for their support and inspiration.  They believed in an educated commonwealth and in the power of an enlightened mind to dispel the gloom of the wilderness and to diffuse a vital heat through the coldest and darkest caverns of the human heart – the heat given to more ardent souls by music and poetry and eloquence and art and the luxurious sublimity or architecture, expressive of human aspirations and desires.

The bestowal of gifts upon schools and colleges was the sacorifice which the Puritan made on the altar at which he worshipped.  An educated man he respected; an ignorant man he despised; believing that it was “one chief project of ye old deluder, Satan, to keep men from the knowledge of the Scriptures.”  And he even witnessed with composure the operation of the school-house in bringing men to the enjoyment of suffrage – that sacred right which he had reserved to the church alone.  His school-house, moreover, brought men to a level.  It revolutionized town after town, until the right to vote became as universal as the right to hold property.  The right to civil position became general, and the graduate of the district school passed on into the town meeting to take his part in that controversy and debate which developed the popular powers of the times into a capacity for the largest civil duty.

In many a Massachusetts town the problem of free government was worked out long before it became a national question.  The equality of all boys in the school-house, the equality of all men in the town meeting – this original colonial condition created a necessity for larger and higher declarations.  And so in one town they struck for suffrage in the beginning; in another they resolved that “all men are created equal, and have a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” and recorded the resolve on their “town-book” more than three years before the declaration of our national independence.  I am confident it was the school-house which did this raising the popular mind up to a general standard, of which the great men of our past history are but individual representatives, developing a people of whom Washington as a warrior and Jefferson as a civilian were the leaders, and verifying in its noblest sense that saying of Lord Bacon, that “in the management of practical affairs the wisdom of the wisest man is less reliable than the deliberate and concurrent judgment of common minds.”

It was in accordance with this idea that Massachusetts while yet in her infancy placed upon her statute-book an act to provide for the instruction of youth and for the promotion of good education.  In that act the popular estimate of the value of education is embodied.  With felicity of speech unusual, with a regard for religion and human elevation worthy of all praise, with an intellectual fervor which illumines the statutes and which stands out in delightful contrast with the usual chilling expressions of the law, her Legislature passed an act in May, 1647, which established the system of common schools.

To the end that learning may not be buried in the graves of our forefathers in church and Commonwealth, the Lord assisting our endeavors, it is therefore ordered by this court and authority thereof, that every township in this jurisdiction, after the Lord hath increased them to fifty householders, shall then forthwith appoint one within their towns to teach all such children as shall resort to him to write and read.

It is the spirit of this act which has directed the educational system of Massachusetts from its passage until now.  Starting forth as she did with this high resolve, her institutions of learning have increased in number and prosperity until she has become literally the nursery of education and educated men.  In the advance-guard of civilization, as it travels westward, may be found her young men, graduates of her schools, prepared to plant the school-house within the fortifications and palisades of the frontier.  Within her limits no branch of science, or thought, or speculation on education goes unexplored; and when from the schools of the Old World the energetic and enterprising scholar turns his eye toward this country as toward a new field for investigation, and looks for that spot where he may find a genial atmosphere it is often the Commonwealth of Massachusetts which presents the most alluring charms.  I cannot forget the encouraging and flattering fact that Massachusetts presented the most attractive home for Agassiz when he determined to bring his scholarship and his science to America.

And how faithful has Massachusetts been in this great enterprise of popular education.  In peace and in war she has never faltered.  Notwithstanding the heavy drafts made upon her treasury during the civil was her expenditures for education steadily increased; and when peace came, with its accumulated indebtedness, the schools received, if possible, still more earnest care.

In 1878, her population was about one million seven hundred thousand, and for this community there were provided 5,730 public schools with 310,181 pupils, taught by 8,508 different teachers.  Included in the number of public schools are 216 high schools, having 595 teachers and 19.574 pupils.  There were also in the Commonwealth 399 private and parochial schools, with 15,574 pupils, and 64 academies with 8,454 pupils, making the entire number of pupils in the public schools, private schools, and academies 334.175.

The amount raised by local taxation for the support of schools was $4,191,510.77, the amount appropriated by the towns was $60,833.58.

The whole amount expended for public schools, including wages of teachers, fuel, care of fires and school room, superintendence and printing, repairs and building, was $5,166.987.92.

In addition to this her colleges have been liberally supported; and it has been estimated that her sons have bestowed more than a million dollars, in private subscription and bequest, upon the fortunate recipients of their bounty.

I present these facts, Mr. Speaker, not for the purpose of glorifying any one State in this Union, nor for the purpose of drawing contrasts and comparisons between herself and her associates.  The influence of the Puritan fathers has spread too far and wide to make such comparisons possible.

In the business of education in our country there is no rivalry, but rather a universal desire to complete the original design of an educated republic and to lay the foundations of society and state everywhere on sound learning.  If this ambition leads to errors, they are errors and mistakes which can easily be remedied and removed.  To oppression and wrong it cannot lead.  If it establishes a disqualification, it at the same time provides a cure.  And if it is a natural impulse created by long and earnest devotion to the cause of education, it is an impulse which can easily be forgiven even by those who would place the right of suffrage beyond the reach of qualification or restraint.  The gentleman from Iowa, [Mr. Weaver], the minority of the committee calls upon this House to remedy the wrongs which are perpetrated in that Commonwealth by an oppressive system of suffrage qualification.  I doubt not the House now understands the full extent of the wrong, and appreciates the liberality and earnestness with which Massachusetts herself provides the remedy.  “

Wholesale disfranchisement of citizens in Massachusetts and other States calls for prompt action by Congress,” says the other gentleman from Iowa, [Mr. Gillette,] in his appeal to this House to lay aside the funding bill and attend to pleura-pneumonia and its apparently kindred disease, bulldozing.  But Massachusetts points to her record and congratulates herself and the country that Congress is even now manifesting a disposition to endow and encourage popular education, and to follow the example of the Puritan fathers and the founders of all the new and rising States of the Union, by dedicating the public lands to the cause of education.  As one of the Representatives of Massachusetts in this House, I would suggest to the gentlemen from Iowa that this is the lesson taught by Massachusetts in her honorable career of more than two hundred and fifty years.

THE PURITANS.

I have dwelt somewhat elaborately, Mr. Speaker, and perhaps somewhat tediously on the working of the puritan element in Massachusetts, in the direction of popular education especially, because it is now generally considered to be one of the vital forces of our country.  It is an element on which the historian never ceases to dwell.  It has inspired some of the most brilliant paragraphs of the most powerful English essayists.  It has inspired the poet with some of his his loftiest thought, the artist with some of his noblest conceptions.  It has arrested the attention of the most thoughtful and progressive statesmen of our own day, and has drawn forth the warmest tributes of gratitude and praise from the reformer and the philanthropist.  The great liberal leader of England, struggling with the difficult and trying problems of state and society which vex the mind of his own country today, and searching with eager eye for some firm and substantial foundation of human government, has declared that “the Puritan element has given the American Republic its permanency and power.”

Without large possessions they established the system of citizen-proprietorship and of a division and conveyance of lands which has been adopted and promised by political reformers everywhere.  Not socially powerful, they destroyed all fixed classification, caste, and legitimacy, and built up society with equality as its cornerstone.  Recognizing an ecclesiastical power in the State, they nevertheless insisted on the enjoyment of the highest civil opportunity by all men; and out of the stern necessities which rested upon them, they learned the real value of labor as the source of man’s true prosperity and happiness. Powerful as their influence was in the land from whence they came, it has been vastly more powerful in our own country where the strength of our Republic consists in the energy and strength and force of each of its component parts.  The defiant earnestness of those men whose faith neither the storms of ocean nor the gloom of the wilderness could quench is the American characteristic still engaged in peopling and developing this continent from latitude to latitude and from sea to sea. [Applause.]

Now, sir, how could a State animated by this force fail to make itself felt in all the great crises which have attended the formation and growth of that free republic of which it forms a part?  As a colony, Massachusetts was always heard when the great occasion called for great utterance – and always responded to the high and honorable appeal of others.  Torn and driven by internal contentions, tossed on a sea of ecclesiastical controversy, this colony of school-houses and meeting-houses, presented always a solid front for popular right and privilege.  The people of Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay were a valiant as well as a godly people.  They carried “the sword of the Lord and of Gideon,” as their comrades and brothers did at Marston Moor and Naseby, and they believed as much in the courage of Miles Standish as they did in the holiness of Elder Brewster. [Applause.]  During the two centuries and a half of their existence on this continent they have been ready at any time to gird on the sword.  In the early Indian wars they traversed the forests with the fatal persistency of the slow-hound from the waters of the bay to the slopes of the Green Mountains, and from the blazing towns of Bristol and Essex to the eastern lakes upon whose bosoms fall the shadows of Agamenticus and Mount Washington.

In the last great struggle of France to retain her foothold on this continent the soldiers of Massachusetts stormed the Heights of Abraham with Wolfe, and cherished his memory for generations in their households; the merchants of Massachusetts supplied the outfit for the siege of Louisburg, and left behind them as a proud memento for their sons the tokens of regard for their devotion bestowed upon them by the colonial legislature; and today the Senate of Massachusetts as it assembles in its chamber passes beneath the Puritan drum which beat the tattoo and the Puritan musket which blazed in the line when the power of the mother country was established along the waters of the Saint Lawrence and far on toward the frozen seas.

Is there an American in this House or out of it, whether a native or an adopted son, where-so-ever his home may be within the limits of the Republic, who is not proud to stand on the green at Lexington, in the early sunlight of that spring morning, or at the bridge at Concord, where“the embattled farmers stood and fired the shot heard round the world,” a Puritan soldiery, and a series of heroic events commenced which, ending at Yorktown, gave us a common country?  The history of mankind is radiant with its record of great deeds and inspiring endeavor, but not one can outshine that wonderful picture of devotion and valor where a little band of Puritan rustics defied the military authority of Great Britain and fired that first gun whose echoes roused the colonies and brought New England and New York, New Jersey and Delaware, Pennsylvania and Virginia, Maryland and the Carolinas and Georgia, into a sacred association whose memories are still fondly cherished and whose bond is not yet broken.

WAR OF 1812.

That there should have been differences of opinion among a people so filled with an earnest purpose is not surprising.  Their teachers and orators had stored their minds with the profoundest civil and religious problems drawn from the few somber and didactic volumes which filled their narrow libraries, and which were brought even into the early years of the Puritan’s education.  While they fought they discussed also; and from the time when Adams and Otis and Quincy and Warren inflamed their hearts with a love of freedom and moved them to respond to the words of Henry and Mason and Lee of Virginia, down to the hour when the constitutional powers were all adjusted, and the State and the Republic had entered upon their career, the intellectual activity of Massachusetts was felt throughout the land, and her schools and colleges were educating statesmen for the councils and soldiers for the armies of the country even while her political differences were positive and sometimes bitter – so that she has often been misunderstood.  So true is this that when the war of 1812 broke out it was for a time difficult to decide where the battle raged most hotly, whether between the two political parties which divided Massachusetts in those days or between the hostile armies on the battle-field and between the contending navies on the high seas.  The people were exasperated by the political proscription of the party in power.  Their commerce was swept from the high seas; their ports were closed by the embargo.

But in the midst of their distress they never forgot that the impressments of American seamen by the commanders of British ships of war; their doctrine and system of blockage; their adoption of the orders in council which destroyed American commerce, together with a long and unsatisfied demand for remuneration on account of depredations committed by the subjects of Great Britain on the lawful commerce of the United States, were causes of war which a high-toned and spirited people should not overlook.  It is rue the condemnation of the war was bitter and unreasonable, but the support it received was warm and patriotic.  Said John Adams from his dignified   retirement,  “I have thought it both just and necessary for five or six years.”  In the Legislature the house disapproved and the senate ably sustained the war measures, stating in an eloquent and powerful appeal to the people –

When engaged with this same enemy our fathers obeyed the calls of their country, expressed through the authority of their edicts.  In imitation of their example, let the laws everywhere be obeyed with the most prompt alacrity; let the constituted authorities be aided by the patriotic attempts of individuals; let the friends of the Government rally under committees of public safety in each town, district, and plantation; let a common center be formed by a committee in each county, that seasonable information may be given of the movements of the enemy; let our young men who compose the militia be ready to march at a moment’s warning to any part of our shores in defense of our coast.  And relying on the patriotism of the whole people, let us commit our cause to the God of battles and implore his aid and success in the preservation of our dearest rights and privileges.

Notwithstanding the views of Governor Strong and the party which he represented, the records of the Commonwealth are filled with the deeds of popular devotion to the cause of the country and with hearty responses to the valor of her defenders on land and sea.  The long coastline extending from Eastport to Cape Cod was carefully guarded by State and national authorities alike, and the governor, who had declared that there was no intention on his part to resist the laws of the Federal Government, ordered a portion of the militia to march to Passamaquoddy for the defense of the ports and harbors of the eastern borders of the State; measures were taken for the defense of the State by large appropriations, and the General Government was called on for arms and ammunition to be used in the defense; the Senators and Representatives in Congress were instructed to use their influence in the national legislature for an immediate augmentation of the naval force of the United States; and the Legislature was disposed also to view with favor the proposition previously made that the State should build a 74-gun ship to be presented to the United States.  That there was a response to the anti-war resolutions passed at a meeting in New York attended by the most distinguished men of the State, among whom were John Jay, Rufus King, and the Governor Morris, I am well aware; but there was also a strong feeling of loyalty and devotion which found expression in the pulpit, in the halls of legislation, at the town-meetings, among all ranks and orders of men.

Said the wise and thoughtful Dr. Channing, just then rising to his great distinction as the prophet of a new faith: All wanton opposition to the constituted authorities; all censures of rulers originating in a factious, aspiring or envious spirit; all unwillingness to submit to laws which are directed to the welfare of the community, should be rebuked and repressed by the power of public indignation.

While one party charged the war to a base spirit of devotion to France, and the other party charged the opponents of the war with being under British influence, the people defended their coasts, manned the decks of our Navy, rejoiced with Hull in his victory, and took the gallant old frigate to their hearts forever: brought the ashes of Lawrence tenderly home, and buried them in the soil of my own county of Essex, and sacredly laid the remains of the two contending commanders who fell in the sea fight of the coast of the province of Maine, side by side in the cemetery of Portland.  Clergymen who had denounced the war left their pulpits to lead their flocks to the contest with the invaders.

The State furnished more than five thousand soldiers, and more sailors, five regiments of infantry, being second only on the list, New York having furnished six, Pennsylvania with four, and Vermont with four standing next, all the other States furnishing from one to three.  Of the officers of the army at the opening of the warm Massachusetts had one major-general of the two commanding three brigadier-generals of the ten, the adjutant general, three quartermaster-generals of the six, one hospital surgeon of the six, one garrison surgeon of the two, and the colonel of engineers.  Of the number of men she sent into the Navy it is impossible to speak, the hardy men of her maritime owns, from Eastport to Capt Cod, thronging the decks of the Navy wherever an emergency required, and when the war ended it was found that the bold, defiant, and patriotic town of Marblehead alone, in my own congressional district, had five hundred men confined in the dungeons of Dartmoor prison.

I refer to this record, sir, because the loyalty and bravery of the Commonwealth have been called in question; and as an illustration of the value of actual service over that of partisan utterances in the great conflicts of both peace and war. Of her more recent deeds on the battlefield it is unnecessary for me to speak.  There are many on the floor of this House who have stood side by side with her sons, and many who have met them face to face in mortal combat; and they can bear witness whether the reputation of the fathers has been sustained or not.

INFLUENCE OF MASSACHUSETTS.

In conclusion, Mr. Speaker, I desire to call the attention of the House to the manifest influence which this Commonwealth of free schools and protesting churches has exerted upon the States which have grown up around her since the days of her colonial condition – an influence which I trust no American citizen desires to repudiate or deny.  The existence of Puritan modes of thought, Puritan habits, Puritan theories of government, the system of education, the constitutions and laws born of Puritan ambition and Puritan protests, in that great cluster of States occupying the northern and northwestern section of our Republic, indicates the fountain from which this great current of civilization sprang.  Among the noble deeds which have contributed to the power and commanding presence of this Republic I know of none which is more admirable on account of its princely bestowal, or more striking on account of its influence, than the gift of the Northwest Territory to the United States by the Commonwealth of Virginia.  And next to this comes the impressive fact that a son of Massachusetts dedicated this vast territory to the social and civil policy of his native State.

When Virginia gave the land and Massachusetts gave the law which, united, have fed and guided the intelligent and enterprising population of that great section, they performed an act second only to the work which they accomplished as they went hand in hand in the early days of the Revolution; and to that region thus bestowed and thus dedicated, the sons of Massachusetts have carried those institutions and habits and customs which neither time nor trial has destroyed in the spot from whence they sprang.  There may be found the civil systems of the pilgrim fathers, the school-house, the town-meeting, the division and conveyance of land, the individual independence, the frugality and thrift, the manners and customs, the freedom of thought, the abiding faith, which were planted early in New England.  And these characteristics still endure, in fact I sometimes think they have been strengthened by being transplanted, notwithstanding their association with many differing nationalities and the antagonistic influences which have beset them on every hand.

To the growth and power of one of these great States our attention has been recently called by some of the most stirring political events of our day.  The State of Ohio has risen somewhat suddenly into conspicuous importance.  As an organized civil community she is not surpassed in the world.  As a fortunate political community she has hardly been equaled since the days when Virginia furnished four and Massachusetts two Presidents of the United States.  The diligence and industry and intellectual ambition of her people have, in three quarters of a century, constructed an empire of industry and education whose wealth and influence can hardly be estimated.  I may be mistaken, but it seems to me she is the New England of the West.  The tides of New England life which have flowed into her fertile valleys have been made apparent by the founders of her colleges, her teachers, her scientists, her merchants, her statesmen, who are the immediate sons of New England or trace their blood back to the old fountain through a few generations.  This influence began early and has never ceased.

Nearly a hundred years ago Menasseh Cutler, who, as well as Nathan Dane, represented my own district in Congress, left his home in Hamilton, Massachusetts, to establish a colony in Ohio.  In his covered wagon, on the canvas top of which was inscribed “Ohio, for Marietta, on the Muskingum,” he carried the foundation of the great empire State of the West.  He was a Massachusetts scholar, scientist, theologian, politician, statesman.  In that wilderness he left the impression of his character and purposes, which has never been obliterated, and which has been strengthened  and cherished by the innumerable host of young men who have  left just such a home as he left behind and have sought new homes and a new opportunity in the valleys of the West.

MASSACHUSETTS AND MAINE.

But not in the West alone has the influence of Massachusetts been felt.  Among the most valuable of her colonial possessions was that vast territory extending to the northeast, clothed with the richest forests, intersected by the noblest rivers, with a sea-coast indented in every league with innumerable bays and harbors, with a strong and fertile soil and a climate capable of developing the strongest mental and physical qualities of man.  It was settled by the sons and brothers of the people of Massachusetts Bay.  The relations between Massachusetts and this eastern province were like the relations between members of the same family – bound by the same bond, divided by the same antagonisms.  In the early heroic period the radiance of the great deeds performed in Massachusetts was shared by her children in the province of Maine.  In her Legislature sat the statesmen and counselors of that eastern shore.  The instinctive sagacity and sturdy sense and manly wit of the province gave additional power in the halls of Congress to the commanding influence of the immediate representatives of the Bay State in both branches of the Federal Legislature.

The brilliant sons of Massachusetts found a home beneath the ray of that eastern star which, as they boasted, would never set.  From the shore of Plymouth, the province of Maine drew one of her profoundest jurists, with the blood of the Puritan running in his veins, her first truly great Senator, whose proud record she rejoices to call her own and whose example is worthy of all imitation by those who may follow in his illustrious footsteps.  There were, indeed, strong differences of opinion and interest between Massachusetts and the province; but in reply to earnest petitions for separation shortly after the Revolution, the Legislature passed many popular and necessary acts relating to the eastern country, and effectually quieted and lulled asleep the desire for independence.

It was, indeed, not without deep reluctance that the people of Massachusetts ultimately resigned their rich possession; and many of the people of Maine slowly assumed the responsibilities of an independent State.  Not grudgingly, however, did Massachusetts do her share of the work.  The legislative act of separation was promptly passed, and the farewell of the executive partook largely of the nature of sound advice and a warm benediction.  Said Governor Brooks, of Massachusetts, in his message of January 13, 1820;

The time of separation is at hand.  Conformably to the memorable act of January 19, 1819, the 15th of March next will terminate forever the political unity of Massachusetts proper and the district of Maine.  And that district, which is “bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh,” will assume her rank as an independent State in the American confederacy.  To review the transactions which have immediately preceded and effected the separation and to recollect the spirit of amity and mutual accommodation that has distinguished every step of its progress must be truly and lastingly satisfactory.  It is at the same time highly gratifying to every friend of republican government to observe the unanimity and disposition to mutual concession with which a constitution founded on the broadest principles of human rights has been formed and adopted.

That the district of Maine was destined to independence has long foreseen and acknowledged.  But it has been delayed until her internal resources and her capacity for self-government being fully developed public opinion, emanating from a competent and increasing  population, decidedly invoke a fulfillment of her destination.  Having  yielded by assent to the act of separation, it remains for me to obey the impulse of duty as well as of personal feeling and of acknowledging to the gentlemen of the district who have been particularly associated with me, either in civil or military departments of government, the able support which on all important occasions they have readily afforded, and to the citizens of the district generally the candor and liberality and respectful attention I have experienced in the discharge of my official duties.

And in the “able, intelligence message,” as it was called at the time, of Governor King to the first Legislature of Maine under its constitution, he alludes to “the equitable and just principles” and to “the correct and wise course of policy pursued by the executive and legislative departments” of Massachusetts proper in giving their assent to the formation of the State of Maine which, he adds, “have laid the foundation of a lasting harmony between the two States.”

When the governor of Massachusetts proclaimed the separation, the distinguished son of Maine who had led on the work enrolled himself among the conditores imperiorum, and guided the new State in a path of constitutional freedom and equality which developed free institutions within her own borders, in conformity with the policy of civil rights and religious freedom which he had engrafted on the laws of the State he left behind him.

William King learned his lesson in the Legislature of Massachusetts; he applied it as the chief magistrate of the new State of Maine.  And true to the spirit of that province in which the statutes of Massachusetts were always subjected to the severe scrutiny of a freedom loving people, in which the citizens were allowed to vote or to hold any office without qualification of property, and difference in religious opinions produced no difference in political rights, and in which religious toleration was the law, he framed a constitution which he Puritans recognized as the true intent and meaning of the principles which they proposed to incorporate into all human government, and he wrought into the fundamental law of the new and independent State the system of civil and religious freedom planted by the pilgrim fathers in the colony of Plymouth.  The civil doctrines laid down in Massachusetts were liberally interpreted in Maine for the mutual benefit of these two Commonwealths, as they learned of each other amidst trials and antagonisms the best constitution for a free and independent people.

It is no part of my purpose, Mr. Speaker, to discuss here the material condition of Massachusetts.  Her financial integrity and honor, her industry and prosperity, the comfort and contentment of her people, the activity of her capital, the constant employment of her labor, are well known to all men.  Her civil organization has been assailed, and I have endeavored to defend it.  Her relation to the Federal Government, and to that family of States of which she is an illustrious member, has evidently been misunderstood.  I have endeavored to explain it.  For her I have attempted to do no more than every man on this floor would do for the State he represents were she placed in a false attitude before the country and the world.  I rejoice now with he great brotherhood of American citizens in the supremacy of the Federal Constitution, the power of the flag, the commanding strength of our nationality, the massive structure of the Union.  But I rejoice also in that sensitive regard for the honor and renown of each State which finds ever a prompt and fervid expression from those who represent her in the national councils.

I have no fear now, sir, of a State ambition which may result in assuming new powers; no fear of those dissensions and antagonisms which will force themselves into every strong and powerful system – none of dissolution and disruption.  But disregard of the responsibilities of an educated Commonwealth, indifference to the duties which belong to a community forming a part of the American Republic, and to the lofty position which each State is bound to maintain in the confederacy – this indifference and disregard we cannot too carefully avoid.

The triumph of popular government will not be complete if its duties are neglected and its privileges are forgotten and denied by any member of this family of States.  In speaking for Massachusetts therefore, I have spoken for her sister States also, and for the honor of the Republic of which she forms a part.

I have recited a chapter in history which belongs now to the American people, and constitutes a portion of that wonderful story of popular progress in which every State in this Union has performed her part, from the trials and sufferings of colonial life to the last bold and defiant adventure which planted our institutions on the remotest western frontier.  It is not now the brilliant record of the Puritan of Massachusetts, or the Huguenot of Carolina, or the Cavalier of Virginia, or the Quaker of Pennsylvania – but of the American whose services and achievements are no longer bounded by State lines, but belong to a proud and powerful people.

And as I pass from my service in this House to duties elsewhere, I congratulate myself and my country that in political energy, in educational ambition, in material prosperity, the States of this union have entered upon a career of activity and strength which gives promise of great power and an unequaled opportunity to those into whose hands the destinies of this nation may be entrusted in the years that are to come.  And standing here, at the opening of the second century of our national existence, I thank God, as we all do, that I behold not a cluster of discordant States, prostrate and driven by a tumult of passion, but a Union of rival commonwealths engaged in an ambitious contest to attain the lofty eminence assigned to every civilized community which is warmed by religion and illumined by education and built on the imperishable foundations of human right and equality.

END.

A Defence of the Use of the Bible in Schools

The following is part of the transcript from a letter written in 1791, which was published by the American Tract Society in 1830.


a-defence-of-the-use-of-the-bible-in-schools-1
Dear Sir:
It is now several months since I promised to give you my reasons for preferring the Bible as a schoolbook to all other compositions.  Before I state my arguments, I shall assume the five following propositions:

  1. That Christianity is the only true and perfect religion; and that in proportion as mankind adopt its principles and obey its precepts they will be wise and happy.
  2. That a better knowledge of this religion is to be acquired by reading the Bible than in any other way.
  3. That the Bible contains more knowledge necessary to man in his present state than any other book in the world.
  4. That knowledge is most durable, and religious instruction most useful, when imparted in early life.
  5. That the Bible, when not read in schools, is seldom read in any subsequent period of life.

My arguments in favor of the use of the Bible as a schoolbook are founded,
I. In the constitution of the human mind.

  1. The memory is the first faculty which opens in the minds of children.  Of how much consequence, then, must it be to impress it with the great truths of Christianity, before it is preoccupied with less interesting subjects.
  2. There is a peculiar aptitude in the minds of children for religious knowledge.  I have constantly found them, in the first six or seven years of their lives, more inquisitive upon religious subjects than upon any others. And an ingenious instructor of youth has informed me that he has found young children more capable of receiving just ideas upon the most difficult tenets of religion than upon the most simple branches of human knowledge.  It would be strange if it were otherwise, for God creates all His means to suit His ends.  There must, of course, be a fitness between the human mind and the truths which are essential to it happiness.
  3. The influence of early impressions is very great upon subsequent life; and in a world where false prejudices do so much mischief, it would discover great weakness not to oppose them by such as are true.  I grant that many men have rejected the impressions derived from the Bible; but how much soever these impressions may have been despised, I believe no man was ever early instructed in the truths of the Bible without having been made wiser or better by the early operation of these impressions upon his mind.  Every just principle that is to be found in the writings of Voltaire is borrowed from the Bible; and the morality of Deists, which has been so much admired and praised where it has existed, has been, I believe, in most cases, the effect of habits produced by early instruction in the principles of Christianity.
  4. We are subject, by a general law of our natures, to what is called habit.  Now, if the study of the Scriptures be necessary to our happiness at any time of our life, the sooner we begin to read them, the more we shall probably be attached to them; for it is peculiar to all the acts of habit, to become easy, strong, and agreeable by repetition.

For the whole text of Dr. Rush’s letter, see Rush’s Essays.