CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Professor 
 
 R, S. Hosmer 
 
BX9867 C S 67 e " ""^^ Ubrary 
 An ?ifiii!imiiiiiiiffi?iiii<«il?iSi;. i l f? n Unitarian pulpit 
 
 olin 
 
 3 1924 029 478 678 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://archive.org/details/cu31924029478678 
 
*-?- 
 
 j;,,„ r rf *y .rCk/Juy frvrn/ * portrait riy IVashiru/rr ,„AUMii . puinlrd in. 
 
M 
 
 ANNALS 
 
 OV Til J. 
 
 ja:\ unitarian "ulp-t;. 
 
 COMMi:.\iOi:A'nv'U-:v' IfE.- 
 
 ^rr^.u^HEi) CLERGYMEN 
 
 [."-IT£TV STATK-, 
 
 Tllr ".'OCT' ■•! • f .TEAR KiCiT . ;,EN HUNDRED 
 •,"!"> PiKTY-FIVK. 
 
 HISTORICAL INTRO i > !?CTION- 
 
 *V V^HJJAM B ** : R\.G*!E, D. 
 
 IN juj vv X U Jtt K : 
 
 ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
 
 530 SKOADWAY.' 1 
 
 1865. 
 

 
 V.jff''-^ ;^ S 
 
 '■_, '"_ - „-_ --- ^ ->f -^"-^^ixS^v-" : 
 
 '"-'- -f-.'^'-i.:-^^'- - '-.- S 8 ,'"'. i.'".:. 
 
 ; ~*Mg*r 
 
 * •*• %"^".- 
 
 v i*- r >- 
 
 -- fteiSgiB; L'- »*■- '" '"• \ 
 
 yfe.'-. 
 
 
 iSSgfe*? . 
 
 
 :vr;- s ^ ..,, 
 
 „ ~ *.. " " 
 
 
 
 -V. 
 
 
 ' ■ a* - 
 
 
 ■ --'%.-w-" : ■ '"~ _1 ~ 
 
 sigp»v' : ' 4<Hi. ■ - .■- :•., '"': 
 
 ;;'?— <%i. ■ 
 -;?'*- 
 
 '^;^'fe : ^% 
 
 
 »4 ;i '"*'■' 
 
 k 
 
 
ANNALS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 AMERICAN UNITARIAN PULPIT; 
 
 OR 
 
 COMMEMORATIVE NOTICES 
 
 DISTINGUISHED CLERGYMEN 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNITARIAN DENOMINATION IN THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 FROM ITS COMMENCEMENT TO THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR EIGHTEEN IICNDRED 
 
 AND FIFTY-FIVE. 
 
 WITH AN HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 BY WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D. D 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
 
 530 BEOADWAY. 
 
 1865. 
 
 Fw 
 
Entered according to Act of CoDgress, in the year 1864, 
 
 Br ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The preparation of the sketches contained in this volume 
 has, on one account, been a work of no small difficulty. 
 Not that there has been any lack of co-operation on the 
 part of those on whom I was dependent for the requisite 
 material, — for no denomination has rendered me the desired 
 aid with more promptness and alacrity ; but I refer par- 
 ticularly to the fact that there is a great variety of religious 
 belief included under the generic term, Unitarianism, which 
 cannot be ignored in any suitable estimate of its ministry. 
 The series of biographical sketches here presented will, it 
 is believed, form a better history of the denomination than 
 it would be possible for me to furnish in any other way ; 
 for, though there are many highly respectable names which 
 are necessarily excluded, the list, as it now stands, is the 
 result of a conference with several of the most prominent 
 living Unitarian clergymen, as well as some who have 
 passed away ; and I have endeavoured, as far as I could, ' 
 by the best lights within my reach, to define the precise 
 type of religious opinion which each one held. This I 
 have done, in all cases in which it has been practicable, by 
 faithful extracts from the printed or manuscript produc- 
 tions of the individuals concerned ; but, where they have 
 left no written testimony, I have endeavoured, and in most 
 cases have been successful, to procure a statement of their 
 religious views from friends with whom they were in famil- 
 iar intercourse. In respect to several, who died before the 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 division of the Congregational Church, it would be impossi- 
 ble, at this time, to ascertain any thing concerning their 
 opinions through any more authentic medium than a vague 
 tradition ; but, from several clergymen who had been inti- 
 mately associated with these men, and who are themselves 
 subjects of this work, I learned, in good time, all that was 
 necessary to my purpose, in regard to their distinctive 
 theological views. 
 
 To each of the many individuals who have furnished 
 letters for this volume, or material out of which the sketches 
 have been framed, I beg to offer my grateful acknowledge- 
 ments. I cannot forbear to say that I am under very spe- 
 cial obligations to Dr. Peabody, Professor in Harvard Col- 
 lege, not only for numerous letters of personal recollections, 
 but for a multitude of facts and dates pertaining to the 
 history of many of my subjects ; to the Rev. John Langdon 
 Sibley, Librarian of the College, for his obliging attentions, 
 in giving me free access to the College Library, as well as 
 in prosecuting many laborious researches in it for my 
 benefit; to the Rev. Nathaniel Whitman and the Rev. 
 Ephraim Abbot, for communications concerning several 
 individuals, of whom few besides themselves are now able 
 to testify; to Mr. Henry T. Tuckerman, who has, in vari- 
 ous ways, rendered me most substantial service; and to 
 Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody and Miss Margaret T. Emery, 
 whose graceful pens have refused nothing that I have asked 
 of them. Of those who have departed, to whose memory I 
 owe a large debt of gratitude in connection with this work, 
 are Dr. Abiel Abbot, my early and revered instructor; 
 Dr. John Pierce, whose memory was a vast depository of 
 biographical material, and who was never more happj' than 
 when he was dispensing it for the gratification of others ; 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 Dr. Charles Lowell, from whom my numerous applications 
 for aid always met a cordial and satisfactory response ; Dr. 
 Samuel Gilman, whose considerate kindness I found it just 
 as easy to bring into exercise in respect to other denomina- 
 tions as his own ; and, finally, the Hon. Josiah Quincy, 
 lately deceased, whom the lapse of ninety years left with 
 a mind as bright, and a spirit as kindly and genial, as ever. 
 
 It will be observed that there is one sketch in this vol- 
 ume — that of the Hev. Abiel Abbot, of Coventry, Conn., — 
 that does not come legitimately within my limits, his death 
 having taken place since the close of the year 1855. My 
 reason for making this exception is, that his ministry, espe- 
 cially its close, was more immediately identified with the 
 progress of Unitarianism than that of almost any of his 
 contemporaries ; and it would have been impossible to 
 exclude him without forming a perceptible chasm in the 
 history of the denomination. In addition to this, I will 
 not dissemble the fact that my cherished recollections of 
 his amiable and generous qualities, reaching back to the 
 period of my very childhood, have predisposed me to 
 avail myself of this opportunity for paying a tribute to 
 his memory. 
 
 I cannot allow myself to hope that the result of my 
 effort will satisfy all into whose hands the work may 
 come ; but of this at least I am certain, that I have done 
 the best I could. If to intelligent and candid minds the 
 volume shall seem to contain an impartial presentation of 
 its subject, and shall be the means of correcting misa23pre- 
 hensions, or supplying desired information, or in any way 
 subserving the interests of Christ's Kingdom, I shall ask 
 for nothing more. 
 
 September, 1864. 
 
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION/ 
 
 The word Unitarian, in its most general signification, denotes one who 
 believes that God exists in one person only, in contradistinction to one who 
 receives the doctrine of the Trinity. Under this generic name, however, 
 are ranged several classes whose views differ widely from each other. Of 
 these, the most prominent are the Sabellians, who maintain that the 
 Word and Holy Spirit are only different manifestations or functions of the 
 Deity ; the Avians, who believe that Jesus Christ is neither God nor Man, 
 but a Superangelical Being ; and the Humanitarians, who regard Him as 
 a mere Man. In respect to the influence of Christ's death, some suppose 
 that it contributes to our pardon, as it was a principal means of confirming 
 the Christian religion, and giving it a power over the mind ; in other words, 
 that it procures forgiveness by leading to that repentance and virtue which 
 constitute the condition on which forgiveness is bestowed ; while others 
 maintain that this event has a special, though undefined, influence in remov- 
 ing punishment, as a condition of pardon, without which repentance would 
 be unavailing. Unitarians are generally Arminians, and most of them 
 believe in the ultimate restoration of all men to holiness and happiness in 
 the nest world. But, in regard to the measure of authority that attaches 
 to different portions of Scripture, as well as in respect to many of the 
 details of Christian doctrine, there is great diversity. All, however, unite 
 in rejecting human creeds as of no binding authority. Some idea may be 
 formed of the very diverse views which are included under the general 
 term, — Unitarianism, by comparing the sketch of Dr. Bezaleel Howard, 
 or of Dr. Hezekiah Packard, with that of Dr. Priestley. 
 
 The origin and early history of American Unitarianism are involved in 
 considerable obscurity. Por the first fifty years or more after the settle- 
 ment of New England, there seems to have been a very general acquies- 
 cence in the Calvinistie system, as it existed among the Puritans at the 
 commencement of the sixteenth century. TJiere is evidence, however, 
 from some controversial pamphlets that still remain, that some time previ- 
 ous to the year 1700, these stricter views began, in some instances, to give 
 place to a modified form of Arminianism. And this tendency was silently 
 upon the increase for many years before Unitarianism was avowed, or, so 
 
 * In writing this Introduction, I have had access to nearly all the pamphlets pertaining 
 to the origin and early history of Unitarianism in this country. For what relates to its his- 
 tory in New York I am indebted to the Rev. Dr. Osgood; in Philadelphia, to Mr. John A. 
 McAllister; and, in Washington City, to the Rev. R. R. Gurley and Ex-President Sparks. 
 
 Vol. VIII. B 
 
X HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 far as we know, existed. Before the great Whitefieldian Kevival occurred, 
 about the year 1740, many of the Congregational ministers and churches 
 of Massachusetts had either partly or entirely abjured their original Cal- 
 vinism ; and though one effect of that great religious movement was to 
 quicken greatly the spiritual sensibilities of multitudes, and bring immense 
 numbers into the Church, yet another equally palpable effect was, that 
 those who were not predisposed to sympathize with it, were thrown a 
 greater distance from the views and spirit in which it originated. Even 
 many of its earnest friends were constrained to acknowledge that it wa3 
 marred by some gross irregularities and extravagances ; and there is little 
 doubt that the reaction of these exceptionable things was, in respect to a 
 portion of the community, strongly adverse to those views of religious doc- 
 trine with which it was more immediately identified, while they were pro- 
 portionally favourable to those tendencies which were ultimately to devel- 
 ope themselves in a widely different system. 
 
 The first Unitarian clergyman of New England, of whom I find any 
 trace, is Dr. Gay, of Hingham, whose ministry commenced in 1718 ; but 
 whether he was a Unitarian at the time of his settlement, or what is per- 
 haps more probable, became so at a later period, I have no means of deter- 
 mining. That Unitarianism had made some progress in Boston as early as 
 175G, may be inferred from the fact that, in that year, was republished 
 there ''Extracts from Emlyn's Humble Inquiry into the Scripture Account 
 of Jesus Christ," — a work decidedly Anti-trinitarian. Dr. Mayhew had 
 published a volume of Sermons, the year before this, which, though not of 
 a strongly controversial character, left no doubt that he was an Arian ; and 
 this, inasmuch as he stood nearly alone in the public avowal of these views, 
 made him somewhat a man of mark. From a letter written by the Rev. 
 John Lathrop, of Boston, in 1769, (an extract from which is included in 
 tho sketch of Dr. Lathrop, in this volume,) it appears that the Orthodox 
 portion of the community were not a little alarmed, at that time, by the 
 progress of Arminianism and Unitarianism. In 1782 the Rev. James 
 Ereeman was settled over the congregation worshipping in King's Chapel, 
 which, until that time, had been strictly Episcopal, but which- consented 
 now, at the expense of dissolving its connection with the Diocese, formally 
 to engraft Unitarian views upon Episcopal usages. Mr. Freeman was, 
 from the commencement of his ministry, perfectly outspoken in regard to 
 his religious belief; and, though I am not aware that he has published any 
 statement of it, there is, I believe, decisive evidence that he was a Humani- 
 tarian. When the last century closed, most of the ministers of Boston and 
 its vicinity were undoubtedly in sympathy with what is called the Liberal 
 system, though the peculiarities of that system, it is believed, were rarely 
 preached, unless in a very indefinite manner. Up to this time, also, and 
 even to a later period, the system of ministerial exchanges had not been 
 materially disturbed — ministers belonging to the two parties were in the 
 
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 habit of frequently appearing in eaeli others' pulpits, as no lines of division 
 had then been drawn, and, doubtless, by this means, the preaching, on both 
 sides, was somewhat modified to avoid giving offence. 
 
 In 1784 there was published in Philadelphia a pamphlet, by Dr. Priest- 
 ley, of nearly sixty pages, with the following title : — • " An Appeal to the 
 Pious and Candid Professors of Christianity, on the following Subjects: 
 I. The Use of Reason in Matters of Religion : II. The Power of Man to do the 
 Will of God : III. Original Sin : IV. Election and Reprobation : V. The Di- 
 vinity of Christ : And VI. Atonement for Sin by the Death of Christ. To 
 which are added a concise History of the Rise of those Doctrines, and 
 the Triumph of Truth ; being an Account of the Trial of Mr. E. Elwall, for 
 Heresy and Blasphemy, at Stafford Assizes." This would seem to indicate 
 some Unitarian tendencies in Philadelphia at that early period. Ten years 
 after, (in 1794,) Dr. Priestley, who had been distinguished as the leader in 
 the Unitarian ranks in England, and was decidedly a Humanitarian, came 
 to this country to spend the remainder of his days. His great talents and 
 learning and his truly philanthropic spirit were universally acknowledged ; 
 but the immediate effect of his efforts for the promotion of Unitarianism 
 does not seem to have been very decided. He preached to a mere handful 
 of people in Northumberland, the place of his residence, but he delivered 
 one or two courses of Lectures in Philadelphia that drew large audiences, 
 and, in 1803, published his celebrated tract entitled "Socrates and Jesus 
 compared," which was shortly after replied to by the Rev. John Blair 
 Linn. 
 
 On the 12th of June, 1796, thirteen persons, holding the Unitarian 
 faith, assembled in Philadelphia, for the first time, to establish and observe 
 religious worship agreeably to their own principles. Among the more 
 prominent of this number were John Vaughan, James Taylor, Ralph 
 Eddowes and the Rev. William Christie. The meeting was held in a 
 room of the University of Pennsylvania granted for the purpose ; and the 
 number of attendants was soon increased to twenty-one. The religious 
 services were conducted by the members in rotation. This small congre- 
 gation continued to meet regularly every Sunday until the year 1800, 
 when its meetings were discontinued, some of its members having died, and 
 others being scattered, from the frequent prevalence of that fearful epi- 
 demic, — the Yellow Fever. In 1807 the church resumed its regular ser- 
 vices under the care of the Rev. William Christie, author of a work on the 
 Unity of God. The place of meeting was then, for a short time, in the 
 Universalis Church in Lombard Street. After a few months, a private 
 room was obtained ; from which, however, the Society was soon compelled 
 to withdraw, their religious views having excited opposition and alarm. 
 A place of worship was next found in Church Alley, where they remained 
 undisturbed, until a small church was erected on the ground where their 
 present church edifice stands. In 1811 the project of building a chureh 
 
Xll HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 was started, and the work was done, and the house dedicated, in February, 
 1813. Mr. Christie conducted the services for only a few months, when 
 he was succeeded by three members of the church, who took charge of the 
 meeting by turns, — namely, Ralph Eddowes, John Vaughan and James 
 Taylor. In 1815 Mr. Vaughan ceased to take part in conducting the reli- 
 gious services — in 1820 Mr. Eddowes also retired ; and in 1823 Mr. Tay- 
 lor followed the example of his associates. On the 12th of January, 1325, 
 Mr. (now the Rev. Dr.) Furness, was ordained Pastor of the church, and 
 has continued in this relation till the present time. In November, 1828, 
 their present house of worship was completed. About 1852 a second Uni- 
 tarian Society was formed in Philadelphia ; but it has not increased very 
 rapidly. 
 
 When the Professorship of Theology in Harvard College became vacant, 
 in 1804, by the death of Dr. Tappan, Unitarianism gained a marked tri- 
 umph in the election of Dr. Ware as his successor. This measure was 
 earnestly opposed, especially by Dr. Morse, who published a vigorous 
 pamphlet, shortly after, entitled " The True Keasons on which the Elec- 
 tion of a Hollis Professor of Divinity in Harvard College was opposed at 
 the Board of Overseers." It is probable that this appointment had some 
 influence in the establishment, as a countervailing Orthodox power, of the 
 Andover Theological Seminary, oae of whose first Professors was Dr. Pear- 
 son, who, up to that time, had been a Professor at Harvard. Cambridge be- 
 came now the common resort of most of the students of Theology who entered 
 the ministry as Unitarians ; and, in 1816, the Divinity School in connec- 
 tion with the College was established, with the elder Dr. Ware as its Pro- 
 fessor of Systematic Theology and Evidences of Christianity, and Mr. 
 Andrews Norton as Professor of Sacred Literature. 
 
 The next noticeable demonstration in favour of Unitarianism was in 
 Connecticut. The Rev. John Sherman, who had been settled in Mansfield, 
 as an Orthodox Congregationalist, in 1796, became doubtful, not long 
 after his settlement, of the doctrine of the Trinity, and, as the result of 
 his inquiry on the subject, reached the conclusion that it was not a doe- 
 trine of Scripture. In 1805 he published an octavo volume of 200 pages, 
 entitled " One God in one Person only: and Jesus Christ a Being distinct 
 from God, Dependent upon Him for his Existence, and his Various Pow- 
 ers, Explained and Defended." By the change in his religious views, in 
 which this publication originated, Mr. Sherman was brought into such 
 relations with a portion of his congregation, and with the ministers of the 
 Association with which he was connected, that he deemed it expedient to 
 resign his pastoral charge. The particulars of the whole transaction will 
 be found in the sketch of Mr. Sherman in another part of this volume. 
 
 One of the clergymen who constituted the Council by which Mr. Sher- 
 man was dismissed, was the Rev. Abiel Abbot, of the neighbouring town 
 of Coventry. He, too, though settled over an Orthodox church, had 
 
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. Xlll 
 
 undergone a transition somewhat similar to that of Mr. Sherman, though 
 he had never preached any thing adverse to the commonly received creed. 
 Suspicions, however, arose that he had become a Unitarian, in consequence 
 of which, in April, 1811, the Consociation of Tolland County assembled, 
 by request of the Church, to adjudicate his case, and not only dissolved 
 his pastoral relation to his people, but declared him no longer a minister 
 of the Gospel. As, however, he claimed that they had no jurisdiction over 
 him, he and the parish almost immediately joined in calling a Council, 
 consisting, with a single exception,* of Unitarians, from Massachusetts, 
 who reviewed the doings of the Consociation, and pronounced them not 
 only irregular, but without authority and without effect ; though, in view 
 of all the circumstances of the case, they deemed it expedient that Mr. Ab- 
 bot's pastoral relation should be dissolved. In the sketch of Dr. Abbot 
 will be found a more particular account of his ecclesiastical difficulties. 
 
 It is somewhat remarkable that though the troubles, both at Mansfield 
 and at Coventry, were of a highly agitating character, and were prolonged 
 in each place through two or three years, and though there were many 
 who, for the time being, expressed the strongest sympathy with their 
 respective Pastors, even as the representatives of Unitarianism, yet, in 
 each case, the controversy gradually died away, without any serious effort 
 either to establish a new Society, or to change the ecclesiastical relations 
 of the one already existing. But though both these churches settled down 
 again very shortly under an Orthodox ministry, there is no doubt that the 
 controversies were, in their general bearing, more or less favourable to the 
 progress of Unitarianism. Several pamphlets, written with great ability, 
 appeared in connection with each controversy, by means of which Unitari- 
 anism became much more, extensively known, especially in Connecticut, 
 than it had been before. 
 
 In 1804 the Monthly Anthology, a half literary and half theological 
 Magazine, was established in Boston under Unitarian auspices, which con- 
 tinued till 1811, sustained by some of the most gifted and accomplished 
 minds of the day. This was succeeded in 1812 by the General Repository 
 and Review, which lasted, however, but two years. In 1813 Noah Yt r or- 
 cester commenced the publication of the Christian Disciple, which, in its 
 original form, was designed rather to discourage, than to promote and sus- 
 tain, controversy; but, in 1819, the work passed into other hands, and, 
 with the commencement of a new series, it relinquished its neutral attitude 
 and assumed the tone of vigorous theological discussion. In 182-1 the 
 Christian Disciple was succeeded by the Christian Examiner, — the latter 
 retaining all the substantial characteristics of the former, — which has con- 
 tinued to the present time. The year after the establishment of the 
 Anthology, (1805,) Dr. Morse commenced the publication of the Panoplist, 
 which was designed to exert a countervailing influence, and which was one 
 
 * Dr. Osgood of Medford, who did not attend, though he wrote a very significant letter on 
 the occasion. 
 
xiv HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 principal channel through which his extraordinary talents and energies 
 were brought to bear upon the great controversy. After a few years the 
 Panoplist became, in part, devoted to the cause of Missions, and took the 
 additional tide of "Missionary Herald;" and, ultimately, it dropped its 
 original title, retaining only that of "Missionary Herald," and has, for 
 many years, been the organ of the American Board of Commissioners for 
 Foreign Minions. 
 
 One of the early indications of the existence of Unitarianism was the 
 semi-controversial character of the Discourses delivered before the Annual 
 Convention of Congregational Ministers in Massachusetts. In 1804 Dr. 
 Emmons preached a Sermon entitled "Unity of Sentiment among Chris- 
 tians necessary to Unity of Affection;" which, though not decidedly con- 
 troversial, was evidently designed to be a Sermon for the times. In 1807 
 Dr. Reed, of Bridgewater, preached a Sermon, looking strongly in the con- 
 trary direction, on Intolerance in respect to matters of faith, — the signifi- 
 'cance of the train of thought being evidently much intensified by the pecu- 
 liar state of the public mind. But a Sermon of a much more decisive 
 character was preached, in 1810, by Dr. Porter, of Roxbury, on " The 
 Simplicity that there is in Christ and the Danger of its being corrupted ;" 
 and yet it was remarkable rather for asserting that the commonly received 
 Orthodox doctrines were not essential to a saving faith, than for an actual 
 denial of them. This Discourse was, in the direction of Unitarianism, 
 much in advance of any previous Discourse in the series — it was highly 
 applauded by the one party, and highly censured by the other, and, oa 
 account of Dr. Porter's quiet and generally reserved habit, was a surprise 
 to both. From this time onward, as the two parties were alternately rep- 
 resented in the preaching of the Convention Sermon, the state of the par- 
 ties, not less than the peculiar tone of the Preacher's views, was often 
 shadowed forth in the selection of the subject and the mode of treating it. 
 
 The point upon which the rupture began to manifest itself, in a pal- 
 pable form, was the interruption of the exchange of pulpits. Thi.s kind of 
 intercourse between ministers continued, without much abatement, for a 
 considerable time after Unitarianism had gained an extensive footing in the 
 churches ; partly because there was little direct avowal of Unitarian views, 
 and partly because it was no easy matter to break the ties which had been 
 constituted by the fraternal intercourse of perhaps many years. The first 
 inroads made upon this habit of exchanges, that attracted special attention, 
 were by the Rev. John Codman, of Dorchester, and the Rev. Samuel 
 Osgood, of Springfield ; the former of whom in 1811, the latter in 1S12, 
 declined, from conscientious considerations, to receive into their pulpits 
 certain accredited ministers of the Congregational Church, on the ground 
 that those ministers had departed essentially from what they believed to be 
 the true faith. This decisive step, in each case, led to very serious difficul- 
 ties, and resulted in the withdrawal of a considerable number from the 
 Society, and the forming of a distinct organization. The separation of the 
 
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 Congregational ministers, which had been thus formally inaugurated, 
 advanced rapidly, and, at the close of the controversy induced immediately 
 by Dr. Channing's Baltimore Sermon, of which I am soon to speak, the 
 lines between the two parties were drawn with tolerable distinctness. But, 
 even at a later period than this, a Unitarian was occasionally found in an 
 Orthodox pulpit, and an Orthodox man in a Unitarian pulpit, — the Rev. 
 Hosea Hildreth, who died in 1835, being the last, as far as I know, whose 
 exchanges were indiscriminate. The progress of the separation between 
 ministers involved also the division of many congregations ; a new Unita- 
 rian or a new Orthodox Society being formed, according as the one party 
 or the other happened to be in the majority. The bitterness of the strife 
 was in getting asunder — since the dividing line has been practically acknow- 
 ledged by both parties, there has been a general restoration of mutually 
 friendly relations. The only ecclesiastical tie between the two parties in 
 Massachusetts, that is not broken, is that which is recognized in the Annual 
 Convention of Congregational Ministers. 
 
 In 1810 the Kev. Noah Worcester, then Pastor of an Orthodox Church 
 in Thornton, N. H., published an octavo volume of about 180 pages, enti- 
 tled "Bible News of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit." This work, 
 though of a very moderately Unitarian cast, placed him outside of the 
 ranks of Trinitarianism, and was the occasion of his being separated almost 
 immediately from his pastoral charge, and removed to a new field of labour. 
 The book had a wide circulation, and exerted no small influence in favour 
 of Unitarianism. It was the occasion of several pamphlets, one of which 
 was entitled " Bible News of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, as asserted 
 by the Rev. Noah Worcester, A. M., Not Correct, in a Letter to a Friend 
 inclined to credit that News." 
 
 In 1815 a pamphlet appeared at Boston, said to have been published 
 through the instrumentality of Dr. Morse, entitled " American Unitarian- 
 ism, or a Brief History of ' the Progress and Present State of the Unitarian 
 Churches in America' : Compiled from Documents and Information commu- 
 nicated by the Kev. James Freeman, D. D. and William Wells, Jr., Esq., 
 of Boston, and from other Unitarian Gentlemen in this country, by the 
 Kev. Thomas Belsham, Essex Street, London ; extracted from the ' Me- 
 moirs of the Life of the Kev. Theophilus Lindsey' ; printed in London in 
 1812, and now published for the Benefit of Christian Churches in this 
 country, without Note or Alteration." This pamphlet became immediately 
 the subject of an elaborate review in the Panoplist, the design of which was 
 to sound the alarm of the silent but rapid progress of Unitarianism in New 
 England, and to stir up the Orthodox to a united and resolute resistance. 
 Hereupon, Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Channing addressed " a Letter " (through 
 the press) " to the Bev. Samuel C. Thacher, on the Aspersions, contained 
 in a late Number of the Panoplist, on the Ministers of Boston and the 
 Vicinity." This Letter, in replying to the charges made by the Review, 
 denies that the Boston ministers have any sympathy with the peculiar views 
 
XVI HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 •of Mr. Belsham, and protests -with great earnestness and eloquence against 
 the division of the Congregational Churches, as both unnecessary and 
 deeply injurious. This was followed by " A Letter to the Rev. William E. 
 Channing, on the subject of his Letter to the Eev. Samuel C. Thaeher, 
 relating to the Review in the Panoplist on American Unitarianism, by 
 Samuel "Worcester, D. D." Dr. Channing then published a pamphlet enti- 
 tled "Remarks on the Rev. Dr. Worcester's Letter to Mr. Channing on 
 the Eeview of American Unitarianism, in a late Panoplist." Next, Dr. 
 Worcester published "A Second Letter to the Rev. William E. Channing 
 on the subject of Unitarianism." Then came another pamphlet from Dr. 
 Channing, entitled " Remarks on the Rev. Dr. Worcester's Second Letter 
 to Mr. Channing, on American Unitarianism." And last, came from Dr. 
 Worcester "A Third Letter to the Rev. William E. Channing on the sub- 
 ject of Unitarianism." These several pamphlets were marked by great 
 ability, and became quite the standard controversial literature of the day. 
 They were all subsequently reviewed by the Panoplist in an article of 
 great power, which, while it was received with marked favour on the one 
 side, had to encounter an intense dislike on the other. There were several 
 other pamphlets published about this time, particularly one entitled " Are 
 you a Christian or a Calvinist ?" — attributed to the Hon. John Lowell, 
 which attracted very considerable attention. Prom this time, Unitarianism 
 became much more decided in its manifestations, and the line between the 
 two parties which had before been faint and scarcely discernible, began to 
 take a form of decided visibility. 
 
 The first movement towards the formation of a Unitarian Society in Bal- 
 timore originated in the following advertisement that appeared in one or 
 more of the papers of that city, on the 12th of October, 1816 : — " Divine 
 service will be performed by the Rev. Dr. Freeman, of Boston, to-morrow, 
 at the Hall belonging to Mr. Gibney, in South Charles Street, to commence 
 at 11 o'clock, a. m., and at half-past 3, P. M." The desire for the estab- 
 lishment of a Unitarian Church found expression in a meeting held by sev- 
 eral of the citizens, on the 10th of February, 1817, " for the purpose of 
 organizing a religious Society, and taking into consideration the best means 
 of erecting a building for public worship." At this meeting they adopted a 
 Constitution, and gave to the Society the legal title of " The First Inde- 
 pendent Church of Baltimore." They also appointed nine Trustees to 
 superintend the concerns of the Society and the erection of the building 
 The corner stone was laid on the 5th of June, 1817, and the building was 
 completed in October, 1818, and dedicated on the 29th of the same month, 
 by the Rev. Dr. Freeman, of Boston, and the Rev. Henry Colman, of 
 Hingham,— the former preaching the Sermon. The pulpit was supplied 
 by different preachers from Boston and its neighbourhood until May, 1819, 
 when Mr. Jared Sparks was ordained and installed as the First Pastor of 
 the church— this relation was constituted on the 5th of the month, and the 
 Sermon on the occasion was preached by the Rev. Dr. Channin<r. Mr. 
 
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. XV11 
 
 Sparks retained his connection with the congregation until June, 1823, 
 when, chiefly on account of ill health, he resigned his charge. After his 
 resignation, the pulpit was supplied, for some time, by the Rev. E. W. P. 
 Greenwood, and afterwards by various clergymen, till April, 1828, when 
 Mr. George W. Bur-nap* succeeded to the pastoral charge. His ministry 
 continued more than thirty years. 
 
 The Sermon at the Ordination of Mr. Sparks, by Dr. Channing, was from 
 1 Thess., t. 21, — "Prove all things ; holdfast that which is good." It was 
 an outspoken and able defence of Unitarianism, rendering it almost certain 
 that the form of Unitarianism which he himself adopted was Ariai>i*m, and 
 that he attributed to the death of Christ some direct, though undefined, 
 influence in the sinner's forgiveness. By this Sermon Dr. Channing set a 
 ball to rolling that did not stop for three or four years ; and, though he 
 did not himself share any further in the controversy which he had been 
 instrumental of introducing, it called into exercise, on both sides, some of " 
 ths most vigorous talent and profound learning of the day. Professor Stu- 
 art led off in the discussion, in a pamphlet of 180 pages, entitled " Letters 
 to the Rev. William E. Channing, containing Remarks on his Sermon, 
 recently preached and published at Baltimore." These Letters were 
 reviewed almost immediately by Professor Norton, in the Christian Dis- 
 ciple, and the article was subsequently published in pamphlet form, under 
 the title, — "A Statement of Reasons for not believing the Doctrine of 
 Trinitarianism respecting the Nature of God and the Person of Christ, 
 occasioned by Professor Stuart's Letters to Mr. Channing." This article, 
 in connection with the Letters of which it was a review, became, in turn, 
 the subject of an extended review in the Panoplist. In 1820 Dr. Woods 
 published a pamphlet of 160 pages, entitled " Letters to Unitarians, occa- 
 sioned by the Sermon of the Rev. William E. Channing at the Ordination 
 of the Rev. J. Sparks." Then followed, in a pamphlet of 150 pages, Dr. 
 Ware's Letters addressed to Trinitarians and Calvinists, occasioned by Dr. 
 Woods' Letters to Unitarians. In 1821 Dr. Woods published " A Reply 
 to Dr. Ware's Letters to Trinitarians and Calvinists," in a pamphlet of 
 228 pages. Dr. Ware followed this, in 1822, in a pamphlet of 163 pages, 
 with an "Answer to Dr. Woods' Reply in a Second Series of Letters 
 addressed to Trinitarians and Calvinists." Dr. Woods, in September of 
 the same year, published " Remarks on Dr. Ware's Answer," in a pamph- 
 let of 63 pages ; and, in 1823, Dr. Ware, in a pamphlet of 48 pages, 
 brought out " A Postscript to the 'Second Series of Letters, addressed to 
 Trinitarians and Calvinists, in Reply to the Remarks of Dr. Woods on 
 
 * George Washington Burnap was born in Merrimack, N. II., in 1802 ; was graduated 
 at Harvard College in 1824 ; was ordained Pastor of the First Independent Church in Balti- 
 more, April 2::, 1S28; received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from his Alma Mator, in 
 1854; and died September 8, 1859. In 1835 he published a work on the Controversy 
 between Unitarians and other Denominations of Christians. His principal late works are Lec- 
 tures to Young Men ; Lectures on the Sphere and Duties of Women ; Lectures on the History 
 of Christianity ; Expository Lectures on the Principal Tests of the Bible which relate to Iho 
 Doctrine of the Trinity, besides numerous occasional Addresses. He also contributed to 
 Sparks' American Biography a Life of Leonard Calvert, the first Governor of Maryland. 
 
 Vol. VIII. C 
 
XV111 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 those Letters." All these pamphlets were written with great care and 
 ability, and may be regarded as embc^ing, on each side, the most satis- 
 factory view of the subjects to which they relate, to be found, perhaps, in 
 the English language. They are, moreover, characterized by an eminently 
 catholic spirit. There were several other pamphlets, bearing upon the con- 
 troversy, which were published, about this time, anonymously, but they did 
 not attract any considerable attention. 
 
 The settlement of Mr. Sparks in Baltimore had other bearings upon the 
 progress of Unitarianism than have been indicated by the controversy ori- 
 ginating in the Sermon preached at his Ordination. In 1821 he started a 
 Unitarian periodical under the title of " The Unitarian Miscellany and 
 Christian Monitor," which continued, however, only two or three years. 
 In October, 1820, Mr. William Nevins, from the Princeton Theological 
 Seminary, was ordained and installed as Pastor of the First Presbyterian 
 ' Church in Baltimore ; and the Sermon preached on the occasion by Dr. 
 Miller, and afterwards published, was considered as having had a distinct 
 reference to the new Unitarian organization. In the third number of the 
 Miscellany there appeared "A Letter to Dr. Miller on the Charges against 
 Unitarians, contained in his late Ordination Sermon in Baltimore." To 
 this Dr. Miller replied in a pamphlet entitled " A Letter to the Editor of 
 the Unitarian Miscellany in a Reply to an Attack on the Sermon at the 
 Ordination of Mr. Nevins;" and the same year (1821) he published, in an 
 octavo volume, "Letters on Unitarianism, addressed to the members of the 
 First Presbyterian Church in the City of Baltimore." The Miscellany, 
 meanwhile, kept on publishing Letters to Dr. Miller, until enough were 
 produced to make a good sized octavo volume, in which form they appeared 
 in 1823, under the title, — " An Inquiry into the Comparative Moral Ten- 
 dency of Trinitarian and Unitarian Doctrines, in a series of Letters to the 
 Bev. Dr. Miller, of Princeton." But, notwithstanding Dr. Miller and Mr. 
 Sparks were thus brought into an attitude of theological antagonism, it 
 seems not to have affected their personal relations in after life ; for, in 
 1837, Mr. Sparks requested Dr. Miller to write, for his " American Biog- 
 raphy," a Memoir of Jonathan Edwards, one of the mightiest champions 
 of Orthodoxy ; and, as I know from the testimony of each of them, Dr. 
 Miller disappointed Mr. Sparks by readily acceding to his request, and Mr. 
 Sparks disappointed Dr. Miller by printing his manuscript, without even 
 asking for the alteration of a word. 
 
 The introduction of Unitarianism in Charleston, S. C. was in connection 
 with the ministry of the Rev. Anthony Forster, which commenced there in 
 1815. He was licensed to preach as a Presbyterian, but became a Unita- 
 rian after his settlement ; and so large a portion of his congregation 
 accepted his new views, that an arrangement was made that secured at 
 once the establishment of a Unitarian church. The details of this enter- 
 prise will be found in the sketch of Mr. Forster. His ministry was very 
 brief, but he was succeeded, in 1819, by the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Samuel 
 
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 Oilman, who sustained the interests of Unitarianism there for nearly forty 
 years, but in so quiet and unobtrusive a manner as always to retain the 
 good will of those from whom he differed most widely. 
 
 The first sermon ever preached in the city of New York before Unitarians 
 as such, was by Dr. Channing, in a private house, on the 25th of April, 
 1819. On the 16th of May following he addressed a large audience in the 
 Hall 'of the Medical College, Barclay Street. On the 15th of November, 
 of the same year, the First Congregational (Unitarian) church was incor- 
 porated. The first edifice was dedicated in Chambers Street, January 20, 
 1821, the Sermon on the occasion being preached by the Rev. Edward 
 Everett. The first Pastor, Mr. William Ware, was ordained December 
 18, 1821, and resigned his charge, September 19, 1836. He was succeeded 
 by the Eev. H. W. Bellows, January 22, 1839, — Dr. Follen having sup- 
 plied the pulpit during most of the interval. The congregation removed 
 to the new edifice in Broadway, the Church of the Divine Unity, October 
 22, 1845, and, in January, 1855, made another removal to All Souls' 
 Church, corner of Fourth Avenue and Twentieth Street, where Dr. Bel- 
 lows now officiates. 
 
 The Corner Stone of the Second Church was laid November 24, 1825, at 
 the junction of Prince and Mercer Streets, and the Dedication Sermon was 
 preached December 7, 1826, by Dr. Channing. This Sermon all acknow- 
 ledged was characterized by the most bold and fervid eloquence ; but while 
 it was the theme of the highest praise in some circles, it was the theme of 
 the most unqualified condemnation in others. It was widely read and pro- 
 duced a deep sensation of some kind every where ; and it was largely com- 
 mented upon in the periodicals of the day, but it did not give occasion, as 
 his Sermon at Baltimore had done, to any protracted controversy. Mr. 
 William P. Lunt was ordained Pastor, May 4, 1828, and preached his 
 Farewell Sermon, November 24, 1833. Since that time Drs. Dewey and 
 Osgood have successively been Pastors of this church. 
 
 Unitarianism first established itself in Washington City in 1820. As 
 early as 1814 or 1815 there were several families, chiefly English, living in 
 Georgetown and Washington, who were so strong in the Unitarian faith 
 that they were unwilling to worship in churches where a different system 
 was taught. For some time they met together on the Sabbath in their 
 respective houses, and afterwards at a central place in Georgetown. About 
 the year 1814 the Rev. Robert Little, who had been educated in the 
 Established Church of England, but had become a convert to Unitarianism, 
 preached a Sermon before the Unitarian Tract Society of Birmingham, 
 which attracted great attention. This gentleman, shortly after, from his 
 love of civil and religious liberty, migrated to this country, with the inten- 
 tion of engaging in secular business, the failure of his health having ren- 
 dered it necessary for him to withdraw from the ministry. When the Uni- 
 tarian families before mentioned found that they had such a man in their 
 neighbourhood, they immediately put his services in requisition ; and this 
 
XX HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ■was the decisive step towards the formation of a Society. Their earliest 
 meetings were held in a large room over the City Baths in C Street. The 
 very first meeting was on the 31st of July, 1820 ; and the record of it is 
 as follows : — 
 
 " At a meeting of the friends of Unitarian Christianity, at the long room 
 over the public baths in C Street, Moses Young, Esq. being called to the 
 chair, and Thomas Bulfinch appointed Secretary, on motion of Mr. William 
 G. Eliot, it was unanimously 
 
 " Resolved, That it is expedient that measures be taken for erecting a 
 church upon Unitarian principles, in the city of Washington. 
 
 " Resolved, That a meeting of the friends of Unitarian Christianity be 
 held in this place, on Sunday, the 6th day of August, at five o'clock, p. M., 
 to concert measures for carrying into effect the above Resolution." 
 
 At the meeting provided for in the last Resolution, it was determined 
 that the church should be strictly Congregational, and committees were 
 appointed to solicit subscriptions for building a church edifice. The build- 
 ing was completed early in 1822, and was dedicated on the 9th of April, 
 of that year. As early as November, 1820, forty-six persons in the city 
 were found to subscribe liberally to sustain the weekly service. In August, 
 1827, Mr. Little, who had hitherto been the only Pastor of the congrega- 
 tion, died suddenly at Harrisburg, Pa., from an inflammation of the brain, 
 contracted by travelling in the intense heat on his journey thither. His 
 successors in the ministry have been the Rev. Messrs. Cazneau Palfrey, 
 S. G. Bulfinch, J. H. Allen, M. D. Conway, W. D. Haley, and W. H. 
 Channing. The congregation has never been large, but many men of dis- 
 tinction have contributed to its support, among whom are John Quincy 
 Adams and John C. Calhoun. Messrs. Joseph Gales and William W. 
 Seaton, the well known proprietors and editors of the National Intelligen- 
 cer, have also been among its most efficient members and supporters. 
 
 Of the details of the progress of the Unitarian Body, as connected with 
 the Congregational Church, from the time that the division was completed 
 to the present, it is not necessary here to speak. The following statistics, 
 gathered from the most authentic sources, will, it is believed, convey a 
 correct idea of the present state of the denomination : — 
 
 There are in the United States about 263 Societies, of which Massachu- 
 setts has 164, and the city of Boston 21 ; Maine has 16, New Hampshire 
 15, Vermont 3, Rhode Island 3, Connecticut 2, New York 13, New Jersey 
 1, Pennsylvania 5, Maryland 2, Ohio 5, Illinois 11, Wisconsin 2, and Mis- 
 souri, Kentucky, Minnesota, South Carolina, Louisiana, California, and 
 the District of Columbia, each one. There are about 345 ministers. 
 There are two Theological Schools, one at Cambridge, already mentioned, 
 founded in 1816; the other at Meadville, Pa., first opened in 1844, and 
 incorporated in 1846. Their periodicals are The Christian Examiner, 
 bi-monthly, Boston; The Monthly Religious Magazine and Independent 
 Journal, Boston ; The Sunday School Gazette, semi-monthly, Boston ; 
 
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. XXI 
 
 The Christian Kegister, weekly, Boston ; The Christian Inquirer, weekly, 
 New York. Their Missionary and Charitable Societies are the American 
 Unitarian Association, founded in 1825 and incorporated in 1847 ; the 
 Unitarian Association of the State of New York; Annual Conference of 
 Western Unitarian Churches ; the Sunday School Society, instituted in 
 1827 and reorganized in 1854 ; the Society for Promoting Christian Know- 
 ledge, Piety and Charity, incorporated in 1805 ; the Massachusetts Evan- 
 gelical Missionary Society, instituted in 1807 ; the Society for Promoting 
 Theological Education, organized in 1816 and incorporated in 1831 ; the 
 Society for the Relief of Aged and Destitute Clergymen, formed in 1848 
 and incorporated in 1850 ; the Ministerial Conference ; the Association of 
 Ministers at Large in New England, formed in 1850; the Benevolent 
 Fraternity of Churches of Boston, organized in 1834 and incorporated in 
 1839 ; the Children's Mission to the Children of the Destitute, Boston, 
 instituted in 1849 ; The Young Men's Christian Union, Boston, organized 
 in 1851 and incorporated in 1852 ; The Boston Port Society, incorporated 
 in 1829 ; and the Seamen's Aid Society of Boston, formed in 1832. 
 
CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. 
 
 [On the left hand of the page are the names of those who form the subjects of the work — 
 the figures immediately preceding denote the period, as nearly as can be ascertained, when 
 each began his ministry. On the right hand are the names of those who have rendered their 
 testimony or their opinion in regard to the several characters. The names in italics denote 
 that the statements are drawn from works already in existence — those in Roman denote com- 
 munications especially designed for this work, or that have not before been published.] 
 
 SUBJECTS. W1UTERS. PAGE. 
 
 1717. Ebenezer Gay, D. D Rev. George Allen 
 
 Samuel Willard, D. D 
 
 Hon. Solomon Lincoln 1 
 
 1727. Charles Chauncy, D. D John Eliot, D. D 
 
 Rev. William Emerson 
 
 N. L. Frothingham, D. D 
 
 Bezaleel Howard, D. D 8 
 
 1739 &, 1773. The Salem Barnards John Eliot, D. D 
 
 John Prince, LL. D 14 
 
 1746. Daniel Shute, D. D Hon. Solomon Lincoln 18 
 
 1747. Jonathan Mayhew, D. D Charles Chauncy, D. D 22 
 
 1748. Gad Hitchcock, D. D Rev. MorrillAllen 29 
 
 1753. David Barnes, D. D James Kendall, D. D 32 
 
 1757. William Symmes, D. D Abiel Abbot, D. D 35 
 
 1761. Samuel West, D. D. (of New Bedford) John H. Morison, D. D 
 
 Samuel West, M. D 
 
 Charles Lowell, D. D 37 
 
 1761. Samuel West, D. D., (of Boston).. .John Pierce, D. D 50 
 
 1761. Henry Cumniings, D. D Rev. Joseph Richardson 
 
 Abiel Abbot, D. D 
 
 Rev. Nathaniel Whitman 55 
 
 1762. Simeon Howard, D. D John Pierce, D. D 65 
 
 1765. JohnLathrop, D. D John Pierce, D. D 
 
 Charles Lowell, D. D 68 
 
 1766. Jeremy Belknap, D. D J. T. Kirkland, D. D. LL. D 
 
 Hon. Josiah Quincy, LL. D 
 
 John Pierce, D. D 73 
 
 1771. Joseph Thaxter Rev. Calvin Lincoln 83 
 
 1776. John Eliot, D. D John Pierce, D. D 
 
 William Jenks, D. D 
 
 Hon. Josiah Quincy, LL. D 92 
 
 1776. Zedekiah Sanger, D. D Levi W. Leonard, D. D 
 
 Charles Lowell, D. D 99 
 
 1778. John Clarke, D. D Hon. William Jarvis 
 
 John Pierce, D. D 
 
 Rev. Mieah Stone 
 
 Francis Parkman, D. D 105 
 
 1778. Ezra Ripley, D. D Ralph Waldo Emerson .' ' 
 
 G. W. Hosmer, D. D ....'. 
 
 Edward Jarvis, M. D 112 
 
 1779. Joseph Mottey Rev. Allen Gannett [\\ 125 
 
 1779. John Prince, LL. D Hon. Joseph E. Sprague...'. !.!..!!.' 128 
 
 1779. Aaron Bancroft, D. D Hon. Levi Lincoln, LL. X>. .. ....... 
 
 Hon. George Bancroft, LL. D '..'. 132 
 
XXiy CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. 
 
 SUBJECTS. WRITERS. PAGE. 
 
 1780. Thomas Thacher Samuel Osgood, D. D 140 
 
 1780. John Reed, D. D James Flint, D. D 143 
 
 1781. Charles Stearns, D. D Rev. Nathaniel "Whitman 
 
 Joseph Field, D. D 
 
 Rev. Samuel Sewall 
 
 Rev. JohnB. Wight 147 
 
 1782. William Bentley, D. D Hon. Joseph E. Sprague 154 
 
 1782. Eliphalet Porter, D. D John Pierce, D. D 
 
 Charles Lowell, D. D 157 
 
 1782. James Freeman, D. D James Freeman Clarke, D. D 
 
 Rev. Samuel J. May 
 
 Frederick A. Farley, D. D 162 
 
 1783. Samuel Kendal, D. D James Kendall, D. D 
 
 Alvan Lamson, D. D 176 
 
 1783. Bezaleel Howard, D. D Rev. Daniel AValdo 
 
 Samuel Willard, D. D 
 
 Miss Margaret T. Emery 181 
 
 1786. Noah Worcester. D. D.., G. W. Blagden, D. D 
 
 Thomas Worcester, D. D 191 
 
 1787. Henry Ware, D. D - George Putnam, D.D 
 
 Rev. A. A. Livermore 
 
 A. P. Peahody, D.D 199 
 
 1788. John Allyn, D. D Convers Francis, D. D 207 
 
 1789. Thaddeus" Mason Harris, D. D John Pierce, D. D 
 
 Samuel Osgood, D.D 215 
 
 17S9. Peter Eaton, D. D Rev. Nathaniel Whitman 222 
 
 1790. Daniel Clarke Sanders, D.D Rev. Eleazer Williams 226 
 
 1790. Abiel Abbot, D. D. (of Coventry). . J. H. Jones, D. D 
 
 Rev. S.A.Smith 229 
 
 1792. William Emerson John Pierce, D. D 
 
 Charles Lowell, D.D 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson 241 
 
 1792. Nathaniel Thayer, D. D Samuel Willard, D. D 
 
 Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody 246 
 
 1793. William Wells, D. D William Wells, Esq 
 
 Samuel Willard, D. D 254 
 
 1793 John Thornton Kirkland. D.D.LL. D. Abiel Abbot, D.D 
 
 Rev. Daniel Waldo 
 
 Alexander Young, D. D 
 
 Alvan Lamson , D . D 
 
 Rev. C. W. Upham 
 
 Rev. W. A. Stearns, D.D 
 
 Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody 261 
 
 1793. Hezekiah Packard, D.D Professor A. S. Packard 
 
 Abiel Abbot, D.D 281 
 
 1793. Simeon Doggett Rev. C. H. Brigham 291 
 
 1794. Joseph Priestley, LL. D Hugh Bellas, Esq '. 298 
 
 1794. Abiel Abbot, D. D. (of Beverly) A. P. Peabody, D. D 309 
 
 1795. Jacob Abbot Abiel Abbot, D.D 
 
 Rev. Ephraim Abbot 320 
 
 1796. John Sherman Abiel Abbot, D.D 320 
 
 1796. John Pierce, D. D George Putnam, D. D 
 
 Rev. Daniel AYaldo 
 
 John Forsvtli, D. D 
 
 Frederick H. Hedge, D.D 331 
 
 1801. Joseph Tuckerman, D. D Henry T. Tuckermau, Esq 
 
 Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody 
 
 John Forsyth, D.D 345 
 
 1801. William Frothingbam Cazneau Palfrey, D. D 357 
 
 1802. William EUery Channing, D.D Edward W. Hooker, D. D 
 
 Orville Dewey, D.D 
 
 Ephraim Peabody, D. D 
 
 Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody 360 
 
 1805. Joseph Stevens Buckminster Joshua Bates, D. D 
 
 Hon. Edward Everett, LL. D 
 
 John G. Palfrey, D. D., LL. D 
 
 John C. Warren, M. D 384 
 
CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX. xxv 
 
 SUBJECTS. WRITERS. PAGE. 
 
 1806. James Flint, D. D Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody 
 
 A. P. Peabody, D. D 407 
 
 1807. Nathan Parker, D. D A. P. Peabody, D. D 411 
 
 1807. John Bartlett A. P. Peabody, D. D 416 
 
 1808. John Lovejoy Abbot Rev. Samuel Sewall 420 
 
 1808. Samuel Cary Samuel Osgood, D. D 424 
 
 1809. Ezra Shaw Goodwin Rev. Samuel J. May 427 
 
 1809. Andrews Norton , Jaazaniah Crosby, D. D 
 
 James Walker, D. D., LL. D 
 
 A. P. Peabody, D. D 430 
 
 1811. Samuel Cooper Thacher Prof. Andrews Norton 
 
 Jaazaniah Crosby, D. D 
 
 John Pierce, D. D 435 
 
 1811. Hosea Hildreth Hon. Charles W. Upham 
 
 Leonard Withington, D. D 445 
 
 1811. Francis Parkman, D. D Isaac Hurd, D.D 
 
 F. D. Huntington, D. D 
 
 E. P. Whipple, Esq 449 
 
 1813. Anthony Forster 457 
 
 1813. David Damon, D. D Rev. Samuel J.May 461 
 
 1815. John Emery Abbot Benjamin Abbot, LL. D 
 
 A. P. Peabody, D. D 463 
 
 1815. Henry Ware, Jr., D. D Edward B. Hall, D. D 
 
 Samuel Willard, D. D 472 
 
 1817. Francis William Pitt Greenwood,D.DThomas Bulfinch, Esq 
 
 Rev. Samuel J. May 
 
 Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody 485 
 
 1819. William Bourne Oliver Peabody,D.DMiss Margaret T. Emery 
 
 Hon. William B. Calhoun 
 
 Samuel Osgood, D.D 493 
 
 1820. John Brazer, D. D Samuel Oilman, D. D 504 
 
 1820. William Ware Joseph Allen, D. D 
 
 A. P. Peabody, D. D 
 
 Henry W. Bellows, D. D 
 
 Orville Dewey, D.D 511 
 
 1824. Bernard Whitman A. P. Peabody, D. D 
 
 Joseph Allen, D. D 518 
 
 1824. Alexander Young, D. D Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, LL. D.... 
 
 Joseph Allen, D.D 524 
 
 1827. George Wadsworth Wells C. A. Bartol, D. D 
 
 George B. Emerson, LL. D 
 
 Hon. George S. Boutwell 528 
 
 1827. William Hunt White Rev. Ephraim Abbot 533 
 
 1828. Charles Theodore Christian Follen.. Rev. George F. Simmons 
 
 D. C. L.Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody 538 
 
 1829. Henry Bradford Goodwin G. W. Hosmer, D. D 
 
 Cazneau Palfrey, D.D 548 
 
 1830. Jason Whitman Joseph Allen, D. D 552 
 
 1838. George Frederick Simmons Samuel Osgood, D.D. (of New York) 
 
 Samuel Osgood, D. D. (of Springfield) 554 
 
 1810. Sylvester Judd Thomas C. Pitkin, D.D 559 
 
 1844. Hiram Withington Rev. Nathanael Hall 567 
 
EBENEZER GAY, D. D* 
 
 * 
 
 1717—1787. 
 
 Ebenezer Gay, the youngest son of Nathaniel and Lydia Gay, was 
 born in Dedham, Mass., August 15, 1696. He early discovered a taste 
 for learning, and, after having enjoyed for some time the advantages of 
 the" town-school at Dedham, was sent to Harvard College, where he grad- 
 uated in 1714. The next year he taught the Grammar School in Hadley, 
 as appears from two of his letters still extant, though it is stated that he 
 taught for some time also in Ipswich, for which he was paid fifty pounds. 
 Having studied Theology, probably in connection with his labours as a 
 teacher, he commenced preaching in September, 1717, as a candidate, to 
 the Church and Society in Hingham, then vacant by the death of the Kev. 
 John Norton.! The result was that, on the 30th of December following, 
 he received a call to become their Pastor. In due time, he signified his 
 acceptance of the call; and, on the 11th of June, 1818, was ordained and 
 installed, — the Sermon on the occasion being preached by the Rev. Joseph 
 Belcher, of Dedham. He brought with him to the ministry a high repu- 
 tation for scholarship ; and, while yet quite a young man, attracted the 
 particular notice of Governor Burnet, who is said to have remarked that 
 he and Mr. Bradstreet, of Charlestown, were at the head of the clergy of 
 New England, in respect to erudition. 
 
 In the great religious excitement that prevailed about the year 1740, in 
 connection with the labours of Whitefield, Mr. Gay had little complacency. 
 His name is signed to a paper entitled " The Sentiments and Resolutions 
 of an Association of Ministers, convened at Weymouth, January 15, 1745," 
 in which they bear testimony against Whitefield's "enthusiastic spirit," 
 against his preaching, as " having a tendency to promote a spirit of bitter- 
 ness," and " his practice of singing hymns in the public roads, when riding 
 from town to town j" and they declare that they will not, 'directly or 
 indirectly, encourage him to preach, either publicly or privately, in their 
 respective parishes. 
 
 Mr. Gay received many testimonies of public respect, both in his earlier 
 and his later days. He preached the Artillery Election Sermon, in 1728 ; 
 the General Election Sermon, in 1745 ; the Sermon before the Convention 
 of Congregational Ministers, in 1746 ; and the Dudleian Lecture, in 1750. 
 He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity, from Harvard College in 
 1785. 
 
 In 1781 he delivered a sermon on hi3 eighty-fifth birth-day, which was 
 
 » Dr. Shute's Fan. Serm. Appendix to the Old Man's Calendar, 1846. Lincoln's Hist, 
 of Hingham. Mass. Gazette, 1787. Deane's Hist, of t-cituate. Winsor's Hist. of Danbury! 
 
 t John Norton, a son of William Norton, of Ipswich, and a nephew of the Rev. John 
 Norton, of Boston, was graduated at Harvard College in 1671, was ordained and installed Col- 
 league Pastor with the Rev. Peter Hobart, of the Church in Hingham, November 27 1678* 
 and died October 3, 1716, in the sixty -sixth year of his age, and thirty-eighth of his 
 ministry. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 1 
 
A UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 published under the title of " The Old Man's Calendar." It has passed 
 through several edilions in this country, has been reprinted in England, 
 and translated into the Dutch language and published in Holland. The 
 text of the Sermon is " I am this day four score and five years old." 
 The following paragraph forms the conclusion of the discourse : — 
 
 " Lo, now, my brethren, I am this day fourscore and five years old, — a wonder of 
 God's sparing mercy: Sixty-three of these years have I spent in the work of the 
 ministry among you. One hundred and forty-six years ago, your fathers came with 
 their Pastor, and settled in this place. I am the third in the pastorate of this church, 
 which hath not been two years vacant. Scarce any parish but hath had more in that 
 office in so long a space of time. The people of this have been steady to their own 
 ministers, living to old age; have not been given to change, nor with itching ears have 
 heaped to themselves teachers. I bless God, who disposed my lot among a people 
 with whom I have lived here in great peace, eleven years longer than either of my 
 worthy predecessors.* I have only to wish that my labours had been as profitable 
 as they have been acceptable to them. I retain a grateful sense of the kindnesses 
 (injuries I remember none) which I received from them. While I have reaped of 
 their carnal things to my comfortable subsistence, it hath been my great concern and 
 pleasure to sow unto them spiritual things, which might, spring up in a harvest of 
 eternal blessings. That their affections to me as their Pastor have continued from 
 fathers to children, and children's children, hath been thankfully observed by me, and 
 should have been improved as an advantage and incentive to do them (in returns of 
 love for love) all possible good. It is but little that 1 can now do in the work to which 
 I am kept up so late in the evening of my days, and my people may feel' their great 
 need of one more able in body and mind to serve them in the Gospel ministry. In 
 this case, my brethren, I hope that no partial regard to me, or parsimonious view to 
 your worldly intcrest_ will hinder your timely providing yourselves with such an one. 
 As much as I dread and deprecate the being cut down as aeumberer of the ground, in 
 this part of the Lord's vine\ ard, I would not, with my useless old age, fill up the place, 
 and deprive you of the help of a profitable labourer in it. I submit to the wisdom 
 and will of God my own desire to finish my course of life, and the ministry I have 
 received of Him, together; while I make the humble acknowledgment and prayer to 
 Him in Psalm lxxi — :l God, thou hast taught me from my youth, and hitherto have 
 I declared thy wondrous works; now, also, when I am old and gray -headed, O God, 
 forsake me not, until I have showed thy strength unto this generation." Caleb, when 
 he was as old as I am, could say, — 'As yet 1 am as strong this day as I was in the 
 day that Moses sent me;" that is, when he was forty years old. " As my strength 
 was then, even so my strength is now, for war, both to go out and to come in." It is 
 far otherwise with me; yet what remaineth of the little strength I ever had for the 
 ministerial warfare, I would as gladly spend in the service of your souls, and assist 
 you all I can in your Christian combat against the enemies which oppose your salvation. 
 This would. I do, God enabling me, as long as I am in this tabernacle of frail flesh, 
 knowing that I must shortly put it off, and exchange the sacred desk for the silent 
 grave. But, my soul, how awful the long, the very long and strict account to be 
 given to God of thyself and of thousands more committed to thy charge, to watch also 
 for their safety and everlasting happiness! Brethren, pray for me, that I may find 
 mercy of the Lord in that day; which, if I should fail of, it had been good lor me, 
 and perhaps for yon also, perishing by my neglect, that I had never been born: the 
 .consideration of which should excite my utmost care and diligence to make full proof 
 of my ministry, and engage your attendance upon it iu such a manner as will show 
 you are not grown into a weariness of it, which would render it unprofitable to you. I 
 have been young and now am old. Tour fathers despised not my youth for its weak- 
 ness, nor have you my old age for the infirmities that attend it; which giveth some 
 encouragement to hope that my long continuance with you is not so much to the 
 hindrance of the Gospel of Christ, and detriment to your spiritual interests, as I am 
 often ready to fear. After some decay or interruption of the Philippians'" liberality 
 to Paul, he thus writeth unto them, (Phil. iv. 10.) " I rejoice in the Lord greatly that 
 now, at the last, your care of me hath flourished again." So hath yours of me. I 
 may add, as he doth, — " not that I speak in respect of want," which you have let me 
 suffer in these difficult times. You lay fresh engagements upon me "to exert myself 
 in the service of your souls; and if the God of my life and health prolong the same 
 any farther, I would go on in the strength of the Lord God to labour for your salvation, 
 ardently labouring for the gracious commendation, which the minister of the Church 
 in Thyatira received from Christ, (Rev. II. 19,) " I know thy works and the last to be 
 
 * The Rev. Peter Hobart and the Rev. John Norton. 
 
EBENEZER GAY. 6 
 
 more than the first." That mine may be more faithful and more successful, God, of 
 his mercy tome and you, grant for Christ's sake. And now, Brethren, I commend 
 you to God and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give 
 you an inheritance among all them that are sanctified." 
 
 Dr. Gay retained his faculties, bodily and mental, in remarkable vigchir, 
 till the close of life. On Sabbath morning, the 8th of March, 1787, when 
 ho was preparing for the usual public services of the Sabbath, he was 
 attacked with a sudden illness, which terminated fatally within an hour. 
 He had reached the ninety-first year of his age. The length of his min- 
 istry, from the day of his Ordination till his decease, was sixty-eight years, 
 niue months and seven days ; and, including the time of his preaching pre- 
 vious to his settlement, his ministry falls short, by a few months only, of 
 seventy years. Dr. Shute, of the Second Parish in Hingham, preached his 
 Funeral Sermon, in which he speaks in strong terms of the learning, liber- 
 ality, candour and strength of mind, of his deceased friend. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Gay's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Joseph Green,* of Barnstable, 1725. 
 Two Lecture Sermons in Hingham, 1728. Artillery Election Sermon, 
 1728. A Lecture in Hingham on occasion of the Arrival of Governor 
 Belcher, 1730. A Sermon before several Military Companies in Hingham, 
 1738. A Sermon at the Ordination of Ebenezer Gay, Jr., SufEeld, 1742. 
 A Sermon at the Funeral of the Be v. John Hancock, Braintree, 1744. The 
 Massachusetts Election Sermon, 1745. A Sermon before the Conven- 
 tion of Congregational Ministers in Massachusetts, 1746. A Sermon at 
 the Ordination of Jonathan Mayhew, Boston, 1747. A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of Jonathan Dorby,t Scituate, 1751. A Sermon at the 
 Instalment of the Bev. Ezra Carpenter, % Keene, 1753. A Sermon 
 at the Instalment of the Bev. Grindall Bawson, Yarmouth 1755. Dud- 
 leian Lecture at Harvard College, 1759. A Sermon on the Death of Dr. 
 Mayhew, 1766. A Sermon at the Ordination, at Hingham, of Caleb 
 Gannett, over a Church in Nova Scotia, 1768. Thanksgiving Sermon, 
 1770. Old Man's Calendar, 1781. 
 
 He was married, on the 3d of November, 1719, to Jerusha, daughter of 
 Samuel Bradford, of Duxbury, the son of Major William Bradford, and 
 the grandson of Gov. Bradford. Mrs. Gay died, August 19, 1783, aged 
 eighty-five years. They had eleven children, — five sons and six daughters. 
 Samuel, the eldest son, was graduated at Harvard College, in 1740, in the 
 class of Gov. Samuel Adams, President Langdon, &c, and was sent abroad 
 for a medical education. He died at Chelsea, England, March 26, 1746. 
 Calvin, the second son, received a mercantile education, and settled in 
 
 * Joseph Green "was born in Boston, June 21, 1704 ; was graduated at Harvard College, 
 in 1720; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Barnstable, May 12, 1725, and 
 died October 4, 1770. He published a Sermon at the Ordination of hisson Joseph Green, 
 Jr. — w ho was born in Barnstable; graduated at Harvard College, in 1746; was ordained at 
 Marsbfield in 1753; was subsequently dismissed and installed at Yarmouth ; and died Novem- 
 ber 5, 1768, aged forty-two. 
 
 t Jonathan Dorby was a native of Boston ; was graduated at Harvard College, in 1747 ; 
 was ordained, and installed Pastor of the Church in Scituate, November 13, 1751; and died 
 April 22, 1754, aged twenty-eight years. He died at Hingham, whither he had gone to preach 
 a lecture. 
 
 % Ezra Carpenter was born at Kehoboth; was graduated at Harvard College, in 1720; 
 was ordained and installed at Hull, November 24, 1728; was subsequently dismissed, and then 
 installed at Keene, N. H., October 4, 1753; was dismissed a second time, March 16, 1769; 
 and died Ootober 26, 1785, aged eighty-three, or according to one authority, eighty-six. 
 
4 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Quebec, where he died March 11, 1765, Martin, the third son, was a 
 coppersmith, and was established in business in Boston. He was a Deacon 
 of the West Church, and Captain of the Ancient and Honourable Artillery 
 Company. 
 
 The following anecdote concerning Dr. Gay has been communicated to 
 me, by the Kev. George Allen, of Worcester : — 
 
 During the Revolutionary War, a little before the time of the Annual 
 Thanksgiving, and when it was generally expected that there would be a 
 great deficiency of the foreign fruits, as raisins, currants, &c, with which 
 that festival had abounded, several English vessels, laden with those 
 productions, were driven by a storm upon our coast, captured and brought 
 into Boston. Dr. Gay, who was considered a prudent loyalist, was 
 accustomed, on Thanksgiving days, to make mention in his prayer of the 
 special blessings of the year. Such a token of Divine favour did not escape 
 without due notice. Accordingly, in his Thanksgiving prayer, he grate- 
 fully acknowledged the unexpected bounty somewhat after this sort : — "Oh, 
 Lord, who art the infinitely wise Disposer of all things, who rulest the 
 winds and the waves according to thy own good pleasure, we devoutly 
 thank thee for the gracious interposition of thy Providence, in wafting 
 upon our shores so many of thy rich bounties, to make glad the dwellings 
 of thy people on this joyful occasion." Shortly after its occurrence, some 
 one repeated the Doctor's ejaculation to Samuel Adams, who, with his 
 usual promptness and decision, exclaimed,—'- That is trimming with the 
 Almighty." 
 
 The following I received from the Rev. Dr. Samuel Willard, of Deer- 
 field :— 
 
 Dr. Gay had, for some time, missed, the hay from his barn, and was 
 satisfied that it was stolen. With a view to detect the thief, he took a 
 dark lantern, and stationed himself near the place, where he supposed he 
 must pass. In due time, a person, whom he knew, passed along into his 
 barn, and quickly came out with as large a load of hay as he could carry 
 upon his back. The Doctor, without saying a word, followed the thief, and 
 took the candle out of his dark lantern, and stuck it into the hay upon his 
 back, and then retreated. In a moment the hay was in a light blaze ; and 
 the fellow, throwing it from him. in utter consternation, ran away from his 
 perishing booty. The Doctor kept the affair a secret, even from his own 
 family ; and, within a day or two, the thief came to him in great agitation, 
 and told him that he wished to confess to him a grievous sin ; — that he had 
 been tempted to steal some of his hay ; and, as he was carrying it away, 
 the Almighty was so angry with him that He had sent fire from heaven, 
 and set it to blazing upon his back. The Doctor agreed to forgive him on 
 condition of his never repeating the oifence. 
 
 The following is an extract from an article that appeared in the Massa- 
 chusetts Gazette, shortly after Dr. Gay's death : — 
 
 " By his inoffensive and condescending conduct, he manifested the pacific disposition 
 of his heart, and rendered his unwearied exertions to promote peace and good order 
 "more effectual. In ecclesiastical councils, (to which he was formerly often invited,) 
 his wisdom and henevolence were conspicuous, and gave him great advantage in com- 
 posing differences, and healing divisions, subsisting in churches. 
 
 " Though his conversation abroad might seem reserved, yet, in private, among his 
 
EBENEZER GAY. 5 
 
 friends, it wag free, instructive and edifying; the salutary effects of which have been 
 sensibly felt by his brethren in the ministry; and his kind, parental treatment will ever 
 be acknowledged by them. His prayers were rational and devout, and well adapted 
 to the various occasions of life. Enthusiasm and superstition formed no part of his 
 religious character. In his Christian warfare, he did not entangle himself with the 
 affairs of this life, but his conversation was in Heaven. In times of sickness, and in 
 the near views of dissolution, he appeared to have composure and resignation of mind, 
 and hopes full of immortality. 
 
 " His prudent and obliging conduct rendered him amiable and beloved as a neighbour. 
 His tender feelings for the distressed induced him to afford relief to the poor, according 
 to his ability. His beneficent actions indicated the practical sense he had of his Lord's 
 own words. — ■" It is more blessed to give than to receive." The serenity of his mind, 
 and evenness of his temper, under the infirmities of advanced years, made him agreeable 
 to his friends, and continued, to the last, the happiness which had so long subsisted in 
 his family; in which he always presided with great tenderness and dignity. A reflec- 
 tion on the indulgence of Heaven in the long enjoyment of so affectionate and worthy 
 a parent, and the hopeful prospect of his happiness beyond the grave, must inspire 
 them with gratitude, and lead them into a cordial acquiescence in the painful separa- 
 tion." 
 
 PROM THE HON. SOLOMON LINCOLN. 
 
 Hingham, February 6, 1864. 
 
 My dear Sir : The Rev. Dr. Gay was the third minister of this my native town, 
 and of the parish in which I was born and nurtured. Though he had passed 
 away before I came upon the stage, I have had a good opportunity of exploring 
 the best sources of information concerning him, and of gathering many tradi- 
 tionary reminiscences illustrative of his character. I think I shall be able to 
 give you a tolerably correct idea of him. 
 
 Dr. Gay outlived two generations of his parishioners; and not one of those 
 who was a member of the parish at the time of his birth, was living at his 
 decease. Nor can I ascertain that a single individual who was an acting 
 member at the time of his Ordination, survived him. More than three-fourths 
 of a century has elapsed since his decease, yet his memory is preserved fresh 
 in the traditions of the generations who knew him long and well. I have 
 known many persons who recollected him in his old age. 
 
 He was of about the middle size, of dignified and patriarchal appearance, 
 and, if wc can judge of his features as delineated by the pencil of Hazlitt, they 
 were not particularly handsome. He had, however, in the recollection of 
 those who knew him, a grave, yet benignant expression of countenance. Those 
 who loved him held him in such affection and reverence that they would not 
 admit that Hazlitt's portrait was not a beautiful picture. 
 
 The Hon. Alden Bradford, in his Historical sketch of Harvard University, 
 published in the American Quarterly Register, in May, 1837, states that he 
 recollected seeing three venerable and learned men, Dr. Gay, Dr. Chauncy, 
 and Dr. Appleton, pass through the College yard to the Library. << Dr. Gay 
 and Dr. Chauncy were on a visit to Dr. Appleton, and they walked up to the 
 Chapel together, two being nearly ninety years old, and the other, Dr. Chauncy, 
 about eighty-three. It excited great attention at the time." Great intimacy 
 existed between these three patriarchs, during their long and useful lives. 
 Chauncy and Gay died in the same year. Appleton's death took place about 
 three years earlier. At the Ordination of Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Simeon Howard, 
 as Pastor of the West Church, in Boston, Dr. Chauncy preached the Sermon, 
 Dr. Gay gave the Charge, and Dr. Appleton presented the Fellowship of the 
 Churches. They were often associated in similar services. 
 
 The earliest sermon of Dr. Gay's, which was printed, was delivered at the 
 Ordination of the Rev. Joseph Green, at Barnstable, from Acts xiv, 15, — <<~We' 
 are also men of like passions with you," — which was much admired for its 
 wise lessons, seasonable admonitions and moving exhortations. His class- 
 
UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 mate (Foxcroft) accompanied its publication with a Prefatory Address 
 "To the Reader," commending the Sermon in the most affectionate terms. 
 Towards the close of this most impressive discourse, we find the following 
 passages in Dr. Gay's peculiar vein: — Speaking of the candidate for Ordina- 
 tion, Joseph Green, he says, — << We trust that he will be a Joseph unto his 
 Bkethren, whom he is to feed with the Bread of Life, and that God sendeth 
 him here to preserve their Souls from Perishing. The Lord make him a 
 fruitful Bough, even a fruitful Bough by a well, grafted into the Tree of Life, 
 and always Gkeen, and flourishing in the Courts of our God." 
 
 Br. Gay was remarkable in the selection and application of the texts of his 
 sermons. Having, for a long time, been unsuccessful in procuring a well of 
 water, on his homestead, he introduced the subject iDto his prayers, and also 
 preached a sermon from Numbers, xxi, 17 — " Then Israel sang this song, 
 Spring up, well, sing ye unto it." In 1728 he delivered a Lecture in his 
 own pulpit, "to bring Lot's wife to remembrance" from the text in Luke, 
 xvu, 32, — " Remember Lot's wife;" and entitled this very able and interesting 
 Lecture, "A Pillar of Salt to Season a Corrupt age," The text of his 
 Sermon preached at the Instalment of the Rev. Ezra Carpenter, at Keene, 
 in 1753, was from Zechariah n, 1, — " I lift up mine eyes again, and looked, 
 and behold a man with a measuring line in his hand." 
 
 Whatever may have been the theological views entertained by Dr. Gay in 
 the early part of his ministry, it is well understood that he sympathized with 
 the spirit of free inquiry, which gradually wrought a change in the opinions 
 of many eminent divines, commencing about the middle of the last century. 
 
 In his Convention Sermon of 1746, he attributes dissentions among the 
 clergy to " ministers so often choosing to insist upon the offensive peculiarities 
 of the party they had espoused, rather than upon the more weighty things in 
 which we are all agreed. " 
 
 He was opposed to Creeds, or written Articles of Faith, proposed by men. 
 He thus expresses himself, in 1751, in his Sermon at the Ordination of the 
 Rev. Jonathan Dorby, at Scituate — '< And 'tis pity any man, at his entrance 
 into the ministry, should, in his Ordination vows, get a. snare to his soul, by 
 subscribing, or any ways engaging to preach according to another rule of faith, 
 creed or confession, which is merely of human prescription and imposition." 
 
 He was a warm friend of the celebrated Dr. Mayhew, of Boston, whose 
 Biographer thinks the latter was indebted to Dr. Gay for the adoption 
 or confirmation of the " liberal and rational views " which he embraced. 
 
 President John Adams, in a letter to Dr. Morse, dated May 15, 1815, 
 remarks as follows : " Sixty years ago, my own minister, Rev. Lemuel Bryant,* 
 Dr. Jonathan Mayhew, of the West Church in Boston, Rev. Mr. Shute, 0i 
 Hingham, Rev. John Brown, f of Cohasset, and perhaps equal to all, if not 
 above all, Rev. Dr. Gay, of Hingham, were Unitarians." 
 
 By some, who fully understood the position of Dr. Gay, after the middle 
 of the last century, he has been claimed to have been the father of American 
 Unitarianism. This must be conceded, — that his discourses will be searched 
 in vain, after that point of time, for b.wj discussions of controversial theology, 
 
 * Lemuel Bbtant was a native of Scituate ; was graduated at Harvard College, in 1739 ; 
 was ordained at Quincy, December 4, 1745; was dismissed October 22, 1753; and died at 
 Scituate October 1, 1754, aged thirty-two. He published a Sermon preached at Boston, on 
 the Absurdity and Blasphemy of Depreciating Moral Virtue, 1749; Some Friendly ltemarks 
 on a Sermon at Braintree, Mass., by Kev. Mr. Porter, in a Letter to the Author, 1750; Some 
 more Friendly Remarks on Mr. Porter, &c., 1751. 
 
 " f John Brown was born at Haverhill, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College, in 1741 ; 
 wus ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Cohasset, September 2, 1747; and died 
 October 22, 1701, in his sixty-seventh year. He published a Sermon entitled, " In what sense 
 the heart is deceitful." 1754. 
 
EBENEZER GAY. I 
 
 any advocacy of the peculiar doctrines, regarded as orthodox, or the 
 expression of any opinions at variance with those of his distinguished suc- 
 cessor in the same pulpit, the Rev. Dr. Ware. 
 
 But I can not leave Dr. Gay, without adverting to his political opinions; for 
 our traditionary information concerning them finely illustrates his character. 
 He was opposed to the measures which preceded the American Revolution 
 and Declaration of Independence. His sympathies were not with the Whigs. 
 Yet, such was his discretion that he maintained his position, at the head of a 
 large and intelligent parish, comprising all shades of political opinion, but in 
 the main Whigs, — without alienating the affections of his people or impairing 
 his usefulness. On one occasion, he and his friend and neighbour, Dr. Shute, 
 who was an ardent Whig, were invited to address the people in town-meeting, 
 on a political question; and they both succeeded so well that the town gave 
 them a vote of thanks. Still, Dr. Gay's political sentiments were well under- 
 stood, and were a cause of occasional uneasiness among his parishioners, 
 during the period of the Revolution. We have this anecdote from , an 
 authentic source. It was a part of the duty of the Committee of Correspon- 
 dence, Inspection and Safety, to call upon suspected citizens, and those known 
 to be loyalists, to demand a search for arms. It was proposed that the Com- 
 mittee should call upon Dr. Guy, and demand his arms, probably not because 
 they supposed he had any, of which he would make improper use against the 
 new Government, but because the opportunity was a good one to give him a 
 sort of official admonition that he held obnoxious sentiments, in which some 
 of the most influential of his people did not share. That the thing to be done 
 was a little aggravating did not take away the zest of doing it — it would have 
 been ungenerous also, had there not been a very perfect accord between Dr. Gay 
 and his parish, as Pastor and people, on all subjects save politics. The Com- 
 mittee presented themselves before the Doctor, who received them in his study, 
 standing, and with entire calmness and dignity, when he enquired of them, — 
 "What do you wish with me, Gentlemen?" "We have come, Sir, in accordance 
 with our duty, as the Committee of Safety, to ask you what arms you have 
 in the house." He looked at them kindly, perhaps a little reproachfully, for 
 a moment or two, before answering, and then said, laying his hand upon a 
 large Bible on the table by which he stood, — "There, my friends are my arms, 
 and I trust to find them ever sufficient for me." The Committee retired with 
 some precipitation, discomfited by the dignified manner and implied rebuke 
 of Dr. Gay, and the Chairman was heard to say to his associates, as they 
 passed out of the yard, — << The old gentleman is always ready." 
 
 Notwithstanding the political opinions entertained by Dr. Ga}', he found 
 among the clergy, who held opposite views, his most ardent friends. The 
 intercourse between him and the Rev. Dr. Shute, of the Second Parish, who 
 was a zealous Whig, was of the most friendly character, and be was on 
 excellent terms with Mr. Smith, of Weymouth, (the father of Mrs. John 
 Adams,) and Mr. Brown of Cohasset, who, at one time, was a Chaplain to the 
 troops in Nova Scotia, before the Revolution. Dr. Gay's son, Jotham Gay, 
 was a Captain in the same department. The Doctor, in writing to Mr. Brown, 
 says, — " I wish you may visit Jotham, and minister good instruction to him 
 and his Companjr, and furnish him with suitable sermons in print, or in your 
 own very legible, if not very intelligible, manuscripts, to read to his men, who 
 are without a preacher — in the room of one, constitute Jotham curate." 
 
 I think I may safely say that New England could boast of few ministers, 
 during the last century, who exerted a wider influence than Dr. Gay. 
 I am, with the highest respect, 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 SOLOMON LINCOLN 
 
o UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 CHARLES CHAUNCY, D. D * 
 
 1727—1787. 
 
 Charles Chatjncy was a great grandson of the Rev. Charles Chaunoy, 
 who was the second President of Harvard College. He was a grandson 
 of the Rev. Isaac Chauncy, who was the minister of Berry Street Meet- 
 ing-house, in London, and, in the last years of his ministry, had Dr. Watts 
 as his assistant. His father was Charles Chauncy, who, though a native 
 of England, came to this country, and settled as a merchant in Boston. 
 His mother was Sarah Walley, daughter of Judge Walley, of the Supreme 
 Court of Massachusetts. He (the subject of this notice) was born in 
 Boston, January 1, 1705. At the age of seven years, he lost his father, 
 but did not want for friends who were disposed to give him the best advan- 
 tages for education. He entered Harvard College when he was twelve 
 years old, and graduated in the year 1721 ; being regarded as one of the 
 best scholars who had, at that time, received the honours of the institution. 
 
 He soon commenced the study of Theology, and in due time received 
 approbation to preach the Gospel. After the removal of Mr. Wadsworth 
 from the First Church in Boston to the Presidency of Harvard College, the 
 attention of that congregation was directed to Mr. Chauncy, as a suitable 
 person to be his successor. On the 12th of June, 1727, they voted him a 
 call to settle among them, and, on the 25th of October following, he was 
 ordained and installed as Co-pastor with the Rev. Thomas Foxeroft, — the 
 Sermon on the occasion, according to the usage of that day, being preached 
 by himself. The call was far from being unanimous ; and it does not 
 appear that he produced any great sensation, in any way, at the commence- 
 ment of his ministry. 
 
 In 1742, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the Univer- 
 sity of Edinburgh. 
 
 Dr. Chauncy was a stern opposer, from beginning to end, of the great 
 religious excitement that prevailed in New England and elsewhere, in 
 connection with the labours of Wliitefield and his coadjutors. His first 
 publication, bearing directly on the subject, was a Sermon on Enthusiasm, 
 in the year 1742, which is justly considered one of his most vigorous pro- 
 ductions. The next year he published an elaborate work, entitled "Sea- 
 sonable Thoughts on the State of Religion in New England." In 1744 
 he published an Ordination Sermon, and a Convention Sermon, both of 
 which he designed as Tracts for the Times. The same year he published 
 a Letter to the Rev. George Wliitefield, calling on him to defend his con- 
 duct or confess his faults ; and the next year he addressed a second Letter 
 to him, in the same spirit, and of the same decided character, with the 
 former. Dr. Chauncy, though he did not by any means stand alone in his 
 views of the then existing state of things, differed from the great mass of 
 his brethren, in contemplating the case as one of unmixed evil. Colman, 
 
 *Dr. Clarke's Fun. Serm. — Emerson's Hist. First Church, Boston Mass. Hist. Coll., 
 
 Ill, VI, X. Miller's Retrospect, II. Prof. Fowler's Hist, of the Chauncy family. 
 
CHARLES CHAUNCY. 9 
 
 Sewall, Foxcroft, Cooper, Prince, and many others, saw very much to 
 disapprove and deplore, while yet they seem to have admitted the substan- 
 tial genuineness of the work ; but Dr. Chauncy regarded it as essentially 
 evil, and opposed it with all the energy which he could command. 
 
 In 1747 Dr. Chauncy preached the Annual Sermon before the Legisla- 
 ture of Massachusetts. In this Sermon he expatiated, with great plainness 
 and force, on some of the evils of the day, for which he considered liulers 
 chiefly responsible; and particularly on the injustice which had been done 
 to his professional brethren, in their having been allowed to suffer so 
 severely from the fluctuations of the circulating medium. His remarks 
 were received with little favour by a portion at least of the Legislature ; 
 and they even debated whether, according to custom, they should print the 
 Sermon. The Doctor, being informed of this, sharply replied, — "It shall 
 be printed, whether the General Court print it or not. And do you, Sir," 
 (addressing himself to his informant), " say from me that, if I wanted to 
 initiate and instruct a person into all kinds of iniquity and double dealing, 
 I would send him to our General Court." 
 
 In May, 1762, he delivered the Dudleian Lecture in Harvard College, 
 which was published under the title, — " The Validity of Presbyterian 
 Ordination asserted and maintained." This discourse attracted great 
 attention, and was the commencement of a controversy in which his friends 
 considered him as having gathered some of his brightest laurels. In 1767 
 he published "Remarks upon a Sermon of the Bishop of Landaff," in 
 which he expressed his fears that the appointment of Bishops for America, 
 as was then proposed, would be followed by attempts to promote Episcopacy 
 by force. He then adds, — " It may be relied on, our people would not be 
 easy, if restrained in the exercise of that liberty wherewith Christ hath 
 made them free ; yea, they would hazard every thing dear to them, — their 
 estates, their very lives, rather than suffer their necks to be put under that 
 yoke of bondage, which was so sadly galling to their fathers, and occasioned 
 their retreat into this distant land, that they might enjoy the freedom of 
 men and Christians." After this, he had for his antagonist the Rev. Dr. 
 Thomas Bradbury Chandler, of Elizabethtown ; and this controversy con- 
 tinued from 1768 to 1771, each of them writing two or three pamphlets. 
 In his Reply to Dr. Chandler, he says, — " It is with me past all doubt 
 that the religion of Jesus will never be restored to its primitive purity, 
 simplicity and glory, until religious establishments are so brought down as 
 to be no more." His last work on the subject, entitled "A Complete 
 View of Episcopacy," was published in 1771, and is regarded as one of 
 the ablest of his controversial works. 
 
 Dr. Chauncy was far from being a mere spectator of the scenes 
 of the Revolution. In 1774 he published a Letter to a Friend, de. 
 tailing the privations and hardships to which the people of Boston had 
 been, or were likely to be, subjected by the oppressive policy of the British 
 Parliament; and this pamphlet was but an index to the spirit which 
 animated him during the whole Revolutionary struggle. So firmly was he 
 convinced of the justice of the American cause that he used to say he had 
 no doubt, if human exertions were ineffectual, that a host of angels would 
 be sent to assist us. When a smile was excited, and some doubt expressed 
 
10 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 as to the possibility of our obtaining such aid, he remarked, with his char- 
 acteristic decision, that he felt fully assured that that would be the case. 
 
 In a Sermon entitled " All Nations blessed in Christ," preached at the 
 Ordination of the Rev. Joseph Bowman,* in 1762, he is considered as 
 having first faintly shadowed forth the doctrine which he afterwards more 
 openly defended, of the final salvation of all men. It is said that this had 
 been with him a subject of much severe and earnest thought, during the greater 
 part of his ministry ; but it was not until the year 1784 that he gave the 
 results of his inquiry to the world, in » work entitled, — " The Mystery 
 hid from ages, or the Salvation of all Men." He published one or two 
 other works, about the same time, bearing upon the same subject. 
 
 In July, 1778, Dr. Chauncy received the Kev. John Clarke as his 
 colleague, and was thereby relieved in a measure from public labour. He, 
 however, continued to occupy the pulpit, a part of the time, almost to the 
 close of his life. He died February 10, 1787, in the eighty-third year of 
 his age, and the sixtieth of his ministry. The Sermon at his Interment was 
 delivered by his colleague, the Kev. Mr. Clarke, from Matt. XXV, 21, 
 which was published. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Chauncy's publications ; — 
 
 A Sermon on the death of Mrs. Sarah Byfield, 1731. A Sermon on 
 the Death of Mrs. Elizabeth Price, 1732. A Sermon on the Death of the 
 Hon. Nathaniel Byfield, 1733. A Sermon before the Artillery Company, 
 1734. A Sermon on the Death of Mr. Jonathan Williams, 1737. A 
 Sermon on Religious Compulsion, 1739. A Sermon on the Death of Mrs. 
 Lucy Waldo, 1741. A Sermon on the New Creature, 1741. A Sermon 
 on an Unbridled Tongue, 1741. A Sermon on the Variaus Gifts of Minis- 
 ters, 1742. A Sermon on the Outpouring of the Holy Ghost, 1742. A 
 Sermon on Enthusiasm, with a Letter to the Rev. James Davenport, 1742. 
 Account of the French Prophets, in a Letter to a Friend, 1742. Season- 
 able Thoughts on the Stale of Religion, (an octavo volume,) 1743. A Sermon 
 at the Instalment of the Rev. Thomas Frink,t 1744. A Sermon at the 
 Annual Convention of Congregational Ministers, 1744. A Letter to the 
 Kev. George Whitefield, publicly calling on him to Defend his Conduct, 
 or Confess his Faults, 1744. A Second Letter to the Same, 1745. A 
 Thanksgiving Sermon on the Reduction of Cape Breton, 1745. A Sermon 
 on the Death of Mr. Cornelius Thayer, 1745. A Sermon on the Rebellion 
 in favour of the Pretender, 1745. Massachusetts Election Sermon, 1747. 
 A Sermon on the Death of Mrs. Anna Foxcroft, 1749. A Sermon for 
 Encouraging Industry, 1752. A Sermon on Murder, 1754. A Sermon 
 
 * Joseph Bowman was a native of Westborough, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard Col- 
 lege, in 1761; was ordained at Boston, as Missionary to the Indians, August 31, 1762; was 
 installed at Oxford, Mass., November 14, 1764; was dismissed, August 28,1782; was installed 
 at Bernard, Vt., September 22, 1784; and died December 8, 1820, aged eighty-seven. 
 
 f Thomas Fiunk was a native of Sudbury, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College, in 
 1722; was ordained at Rutland, Mass,, November 1, 1727; was dismissed September 8, 1740; 
 was installed at Plymouth, November 7, 1743 ; was dismissed in 1748 ; was installed at Barre, 
 Mass., October, 1753; and was dismissed July 17, 1766. He published a Discourse at Giving 
 the Right Hand of Fellowship, at the Installation of the Rev. Edward Billings; [who was 
 born in Sunderland, Mass; graduated at Harvard College, in 1731, was ordained at Belcher- 
 town, in 1739; was dismissed in 1751; was installed at Greenfield District, Mass., March 
 28, 1754;' and died in 1760;] a Sermon at Stafford, Conn., at the Ordination of John 
 Willard, 1757 ; and the Massachusetts Election Sermon, 1758. 
 
CHAKLES CHATJNCY. 11 
 
 on the Earthquake, 1755. Account of the Ohio Defeat in a Letter to a 
 Friend, 1755. A Particular Narrative of the Defeat of the French Army 
 at Lake G-eorge, in a Letter to a Friend, 1755. A Sermon on the Earth- 
 quakes in Spain, 1756. A Sermon on the Death of Mr. Edward Gray, 
 1757. The Opinion of one who has perused the 'Summer Morning's 
 Conversation,' &c:, 1758. Dudleian Lecture at Harvard College, 1762. 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Joseph Bowman, 1762. Twelve Sermons 
 particularly referring to the Sandemanian Doctrines, 1765. A Sermon at 
 the Ordination of Penuel Bowen, 1766. A Sermon on the Death of Dr. 
 Mayhew, 1766. Thanksgiving Sermon on the Kepeal of the Stamp Act, 
 1767. A Sermon at the Ordination of Simeon Howard, 1767. Remarks 
 on the Bishop of Landaff's Sermon in a Letter to a Friend, 1767. Answer 
 to Dr. Chandler's Appeal, 1768. A Sermon on the Death of the Rev. 
 Thomas Foxeroft, 1769. " Trust in God the Duty of a People," &c; a 
 Sermon preached at the request of a number of Patriotic Gentlemen, 1770. 
 Beply to Dr. Chandler's Appeal defended, 1770. A Complete View of 
 Episcopacy, (an octavo volume,) 1771. Five Sermons on the Communion, 
 1772. A Sermon on "All things in Common," 1773. A Just Representa- 
 tion of the Hardships and Sufferings of the town of Boston, in a Letter to 
 a Friend, 1774. A Sermon on " the Accursed Thing," 1778. The Mys. 
 tery hid from Ages, or the Salvation of all Men, (an octavo volume,) 1784. 
 The Benevolence of the Deity fairly and impartially considered, (an octavo 
 volume,) 1784. Five Dissertations on the Fall and its Consequences, (an 
 octavo volume,) 1785. A Sermon upon the Return of the Society to their 
 House of Worship, after it had undergone the necessary Repairs, 1785. 
 
 Dr. Chauncy was three times married. His first wife was Elizabeth, 
 daughter of Judge Grove Hirst, and grand-daughter of the first Chief 
 Justice Sewall, by whom he had three children, — one son and two daughters. 
 His second marriage was on the 8lh of January, 1738, to Elizabeth Town- 
 send ; and his third was on the 15th of January, 1760, to Mary, daughter 
 of David Stoddard. There were no children by either of the two last 
 marriages. 
 
 Dr. John Eliot, who, in the early part of his life, Was contemporary with 
 Dr. Chauncy, writes tlras concerning him : — 
 
 "Dr. Chauncy was one of the greatest divines in New England,— no one, except 
 President Edwards and the late Dr. Mayhew, has been so much known among the 
 literati of Europe, or printed more books upon theological subjects. He took great 
 dtlight in studying the Scriptures. Feeling the sacred obligations of morality, he 
 impressed them upon the minds of others in the most rational and evangelical manner. 
 When he preached upon the faith of the Gospel, lie reasoned of righteousness, tempe- 
 rance and judgment to come. It was said that he wanted the graces of delivery and 
 taste in composition. But it was his object to deliver the most sublime truths iu 
 simplicity of speech, and he never therefore studied to have his periods polished with 
 rhetorical figures. His favourite authors were Tillotson of the Episcopal Church, and 
 Baxter among the Puritans. For he preferred the rich vein of sentiment in the Ser- 
 mons of the English divines, to that tinsel of French declamation so fashionable in our 
 modern way of preaching. Upon some occasions, however, Dr. Chauncy could raise 
 liis feeble voice, and manifest a vigour and animation which would 'arrest the attention 
 of the most careless hearer, and have a deeper effect than the oratory which is thought 
 by many to be irresistibly persuasive: at all times he was argumentative and perspicu- 
 ous, and made an admirable practical use of the sentiments he delivered." 
 
 The following notice of Dr. Chauncy is from an » Historical Sketch of 
 the First Church, in Boston," by the Rev. William Emerson, one of Dr. 
 Chauncy's successors :— 
 
12 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 " The fact is. he had no taste for rhetorical studies. So little versed in poetry was 
 he that he is said to have wished that somehody would translate the Paradise Lost of 
 Milton into prose, that he might understand it. He loved nature, simplicity, and 
 truth, and looked upon the art of rhetoric rather as an inflamer of the passions, and 
 a perverter of reason, than as an instrument of good to mankind. His aversion 
 indeed was so rooted towards the noisy and foaming fanatics of his time, and his 
 attachment so strong to Taylor, Tillotson, and writers of that stamp, that, in the 
 company of intimate friends, as is reported of him, he would sometimes beseech God 
 never to make him an orator. One of his acquaintances now living, (1811,) hearing 
 this report, remarked that his prayer was unequivocally granted. Yet I have been 
 informed by one of his hearers, who is an excellent judge of sermons, that Dr. Chauncy 
 was by no means an indifferent speaker, that his emphases were always laid with pro- 
 priety, often with happy effect; and that his general manner was that of a plain, 
 earnest preacher, solicitous for the success of his labours. He ordinarily entered on 
 his task, whether of composing or delivery, apparently without much nerve, as a 
 labourer commences his daily toil, uttering a deal of common truths in a common way. 
 But he had always a design, which he kept clearly and steadily in view, until it was 
 prudently and thoroughly executed." 
 
 As I do not find that Dr. Chauncy has, in any of his publications, ex- 
 pressed himself definitely in respect to the doctrine of the Trinity, I wrote 
 to the Rev. Dr. Frothingham, another of Dr. Chauncy's successors, to ascer- 
 tain his opinion on the subject, and received from him the following reply : — 
 
 " As to the doctrine of the Trinity, though the subject had not risen 
 into controversy in his day, I have always supposed that he was Non- 
 Nicene on that point. Such a supposition would certainly correspond best 
 with the general complexion of his religious opinions. He was always 
 classed prominently among those who were called ' liberal ; ' for there were 
 two parties then as now. An octogenarian parishioner of mine, who was 
 one of his hearers, tells me that, long before his Book on Universal Salva- 
 tion was published, some of his church left him to go to the Old South." 
 
 The following letter addressed by the late Rev. Dr. Howard, of Springfield, 
 to the Rev. Dr. Walker, President of Harvard College, has been kindly 
 put at my disposal. Nearly every thing contained in it I have myself had 
 from Dr. Howard's own lips. If the letter should seem to involve a 
 departure from my general rule not to allow the approval or the condemna- 
 tion of any particular system of Doctrine, either by myself or my corres- 
 pondents, the explanation is that Dr. Howard is himself one of the subjects 
 of this work, and the letter is quite as illustrative of his own views as of 
 those of Dr. Chauncy. 
 
 Springfield, January 22, 1833. 
 
 Dear Sir : You ask me for reminiscences of Dr. Chauncy. You might almost 
 as well have gone to him for them. But, as I have a very great veneration 
 for his character, and wish it may be transmitted to posterity just as it was, 
 I will tell you all that I do remember of him. 
 
 Ho was, like Zaccheus, little of stature, and, like St. Paul, his letters were 
 powerful. God gave him a slender, feeble body, a very powerful, vigorous 
 mind, and strong passions; and he managed them all exceedingly well. His 
 manners were plain and downright, — dignified, bold and imposing. In 
 conversation with his friends, he was pleasant, social and very instructive. 
 Bigotry and superstition found no quarter with him — in whatever garb they 
 approached, they were sure to be detected and rebuked. He possessed and 
 enjoyed a firm and unwavering faith in the truth and inspiration of the Scrip- 
 tures, and in the impossibility of their having been written but by the 
 supernatural inspiration of God. He said to me, << I defy any man that ever 
 existed, to give any rational account of the conduct of mankind, without 
 going to the third chapter of Genesis for the cause." Soon after his Book on 
 
CHARLES CHAUNCY. 13 
 
 Universal Salvation was published, he said to me, — << Howard, have you seen 
 my book?" " Yes Sir." " Have you read it?" << Yes Sir." "And do you 
 believe it?" " No Sir." << Ah! if you had faith as a grain of mustard seed, 
 you would believe it." He said to me, " I could once compose and write as 
 fast as any man that ever existed. I have often written every word of my 
 afternoon sermon in the intermission." 
 
 His attitude and tone of voice in the desk were dignified, solemn, impressive 
 and positive. They seemed to say, — << I know that what I am delivering is 
 true, and highly important to your souls." I am not able to give you a list 
 of his publications; they were many. His volume containing ten sermons on 
 Justification is very able, and contains his Body of Divinity, which, though 
 now out of date, may prove, in the end, to be much nearer the truth as it is 
 in Jesus, than some of later date. He, like St. Paul, gloried in the Cross of 
 Christ, which seems to be abandoned and made of none effect by some divines 
 of the present generation. Every one of us must give an account of himself 
 to God; and every man's work will be tried; and the wood, hay and stubble 
 will be burnt up; and a very great bonfire there will be. 
 
 The Doctor was remarkably temperate in his diet and exercise. At twelve 
 o'clock, he took one pinch of snuff, and only one in twenty-four hours. At 
 one o'clock, he dined on one dish of plain wholesome food, and alter dinner 
 took one glass of wine, and one pipe of tobacco, and only one in twenty-four 
 hours. And he was equally methodical in his exercise, which consisted 
 chiefly or wholly in walking. I said, << Doctor, you live by rule." " If I 
 did not, I should not live at all." He was mighty in the Scriptures, pene- 
 trating and candid in his comments, and, I believe, as little influenced by the 
 prevailing errors of his time as any other man. And his own errors, 
 although they may have injured thousands, did not appear to do him any 
 harm, but rather increased his love to God and man; and how far he is 
 accountable to God for the injury his book has done, is an awful question 
 which none but God can answer. But it is a question which ought to fill the 
 mind of every author, and every preacher with great anxiety, lest the blood 
 of others should be required of them. When will Calvinism and Humanita- 
 rianism, the two great errors of the present day, so << come to their end that 
 none shall help them?" Calvinism has imposed on Christianit} r an irrational 
 load, too grievous to be borne. Humanitarianism, urging to the other extreme, 
 has not only stripped it of all its Calvinistic attire, but has taken out its 
 very vitals, — has denied every doctrine peculiar to the Gospel, and' under the 
 cloak of Christianity, intrenched itself on a rampart of Natural Religion. 
 The time is coming when all error will be put down, and Christ will have no 
 more cause to complain that He is wounded in the house of his friends. A 
 Christian community will somewhere arise, free from error, and all men will 
 flow into it. Then, we shall all come unto " the unity of the faith and the 
 knowledge of the Son of God to a perfect man." May the Lord hasten it in 
 his time. 
 
 I hope you will get a good likeness of the Doctor. He was really a great 
 and good man. I verily believe he is now in Heaven, and humbly hope that 
 I shall soon be with him there. 
 
 From your friend, 
 
 BEZALEEL HOWARD. 
 9 
 
14 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 THOMAS BARNARD * 
 
 1739—1776. 
 THOMAS BARNARD, D. D.f • 
 1773—1814. 
 
 Thomas Barnard, a son of the Eev. John Barnard, of Andover, was 
 horn August 17, 1716. He was graduated at Harvard College, in 1732, 
 and was ordained and installed Pastor of the First Church, in Newbury, 
 January 31, 1739. After a few years, the peace of his congregation was 
 disturbed by the influence of certain religious teachers, who maintained 
 that no small portion of the ministers of that day were unconverted men, 
 and were to be treated accordingly. There is a letter still extant, 
 addressed by Mr. Barnard to the Eev. Joseph Adams,t whom he seems to 
 have considered as sharing largely in the denunciatory spirit, in which he 
 gives a very vivid account of the disorders he so much reprobated. His 
 situation at length became so unpleasant that he resolved to relieve him. 
 self by retiring from his pastoral charge ; and, accordingly, he was, by 
 his own request, dismissed, on the 18th of January, 1751. A considerable 
 portion of his congregation, as well as of the community at large, deeply 
 regretted his taking this step, as he was regarded among the most intelli- 
 gent and respectable ministers in the whole region. 
 
 After leaving his charge, he removed to that part of the town which is 
 now Newburyport, studied law, became a practitioner at the Bar, and was 
 a Representative of the town to the General Court. Though his talents 
 were such as would have ensured him success in civil life, he found that he 
 had little taste for such pursuits, and had a strong inclination to return to 
 theological studies and pastoral engagements. Accordingly, acting under 
 the advice of his friends, as well as in accordance with his own taste and 
 judgment, he resolved to re-enter the ministry. The First Church in 
 Salem having been rendered vacant by the death of the Rev. John Spar- 
 hawk, Mr. Barnard was called to be his successor. He accepted the invi- 
 tation, and was installed, September 18, 1755. The Installation Sermon 
 was preached by the Rev. Peter Clark of Danvers, from Malachi II, 6 ; 
 and the Charge was delivered by the Rev. John Barnard of Marblehead. 
 He was recommended to the church by the Chief Justice of the Common- 
 wealth, particularly on account of his high intellectual powers and accom- 
 plishments ; and his congregation is said to have had in it, at that time, a 
 greater amount of cultivated intellect than any other in the Province. 
 
 Here Mr. Barnard conticued till the close of his life. He suffered much, 
 in his latter years, from a paralytic affection. His memory failed ; and, 
 though he continued to preach till within a few weeks of his death, it was 
 
 * Mass. Hist. Coll. VI. 
 f Prince's Fun. Serm. 
 
 j Joseph Adams was a native of Newbury; was graduated at Harvard College, in 1742; 
 Was ordained at Stratham, N. H., June 24, 1766 ; and died February 24, 1785, aged sixty-six. 
 
THOMAS BARNARD. 15 
 
 only by the closest attention to his manuscript that he could read his sermon. 
 
 In July, 1772, Mr. Asa Dunbar,* a young man of uncommon promise, 
 
 became liis colleague, and was dismissed, by his own request, on account 
 
 of ill health, in 1779. Mr. Barnard died August 15, 1776, aged sixty 
 
 years. Dr. Andrew Eliot of Boston, who had long been his intimate friend, 
 
 preached his Funeral Sermon. 
 
 Dr. John Eliot, who doubtless must have known him, as the friend of 
 
 his father, has left the following record concerning him in his Biographical 
 
 Dictionary : — 
 
 "As long as he lived, he was esteemed and beloved by the wisest and best part of 
 the community. His manner of preaching was grave, slow and distinct. He had not 
 sufficient animation in his delivery, but his sermons were rational and judicious, calcu- 
 lated for heavers of thoughtful minds, without that unction which popular preachers 
 have, and which seems necessary to give a charm to public discourses. It was observed 
 also, by men of good sense, that Mr. Barnard's style of preaching was not the most 
 perspicuous. His favourite author was Bishop Butler, whose writings are more 
 remarkable for masterly reasoning than fine turned sentences. In the Deistical contro- 
 versy Mr. Barnard was superior to most divines, and be often made it the subject of 
 his public discourses. In his sentiments he was considered as a follower of Arminius 
 rather than Calvin; he was a Semi-Arian of Dr. Clarke's school." 
 
 I find nothing in any of Mr. Barnard's writings, more distinctive, as to 
 his theological views, than the following extract from an Ordination Ser- 
 mon, delivered in 1757, on " The Christian Salvation :" 
 
 " It might be expected that the Ruler of the Universe will exercise mercy to offenders 
 in such a manner as shall give no pretence to the rest of his creation to rebel, in hopes 
 of easy pardon, whatever their guilt may be. The Christian salvation is a proof of 
 the Divine wisdom in this respect. Therefore we see the incarnate Jesus going on in 
 such a series of consummate virtue and goodness as God might look on with pleasure ; 
 which being tried in the severest instances, and persevering even unto death, might be 
 the proper basis of a grant of the highest blessings to Him, (in his complex character,) 
 and to men, for his sake, and on his request. We see Him making peace by the, blood 
 of his cross, redeeming us from wrath; not from the effects of vindictive passions, or 
 delight in misery in the Deity, but from that unhappiness which the rectitude of God's 
 government made the necessary fruit of sin; for without shedding of blood there was 
 no remission. And to maintain in us a sense of the majesty and purity of God and 
 our own ill desert, He is made our Intercessor in Heaven, through whom we have 
 access unto the Father. In this view, Christ gave Himself for us to redeem us from 
 all iniquity, the penal effects of it." 
 
 The publications of Mr. Barnard were — A Sermon at -the Ordination 
 of Edward Barnard, Haverhill, 1743. A Letter to Mr. Joseph Adams. 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Josiah Baylcy,t 1757. A Sermon before 
 the Society for promoting Industry, 1757. Artillery Election Sermon, 
 1758. A Sermon at the Ordination of William Whitwell, Marblehead, 
 1762. A Sermon at the General Election, 1763. Dudleian Lecture at 
 Harvard College, 1768. A Sermon at the Funeral of the Bev. Peter. 
 Clark, Danvers, 1768. 
 
 Mr. Barnard left three sons — John, who was graduated at Harvard Col- 
 lege, in 1762, and became a merchant at St. Johns, New Brunswick; 
 Thomas, an account of whom follows in this article, and Benjamin, who 
 was also a merchant in New Brunswick. 
 
 * Asa Dunbar was a native of Bridgewater, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1767 ; and died in New Hampshire, ia December, 1788, having spent some of his last years 
 in the profession of the Law. 
 
 f Josiah Bayley was a native of Newbury, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1752; was ordained Pastor of the Church at Hampton Falls. N. H., October 19 1757- and 
 died September 12, 1762, aged twenty-nine. J ' 
 
16 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 THOMAS BARNARD, D. D. 
 
 Thomas Barnard, a son of the Kev. Thomas Barnard, was born in 
 Newbury, February 5, 1748. He graduated at Harvard College in 1766. 
 He studied Theology under the direction of the Kev. Samuel Williams of 
 Bradford, afterwards Professor in Harvard College. He was ordained and 
 installed Pastor of the North Church and Society in Salem, January 13, 
 1773. In the year 1771, when his father had become so feeble as to 
 require the assistance of a colleague, the son was invited to preach as a 
 candidate for the place ; but, as the congregation were divided in their 
 partialities between him and another candidate, the party favourable to his 
 settlement withdrew, and formed a new church of which he became the 
 Pastor. Here he continued in the active discharge of the duties of his 
 office forty-one years. On the morning of the first day of October, 1814, 
 he was seized with a fit of apoplexy, which had a fatal termination in the 
 course of the following night. He died in the sixty-seventh year of his 
 age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Prince, and was 
 afterwards published. 
 
 He received the Degree of Doctor of Divinity from both the University 
 of Edinburgh, and Brown University, in 1794. 
 
 Dr. Barnard was married in May, 1775, to Lois, daughter of Samuel 
 Gardner, a respectable merchant of Salem. He had two children, — a son 
 and a daughter, but survived them both. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Barnard's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Aaron Bancroft, "Worcester, 1786. A 
 Sermon at the Artillery Election, 1789. A Sermon before the Massachu- 
 setts Convention of Congregational Blinisters, 1793. A Discourse before 
 the Humane Society of Massachusetts, 1794. A Sermon on the National 
 Thanksgiving, 1795. Dudleian Lecture at Harvard College, 1795. A 
 Fast Sermon, 1796. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1796. A Sermon on the 
 Death of Washington, 1799. A Sermon before the Salem Female Chari- 
 table Society, 1803. A Sermon before the Society for Propagating the 
 Gospel in Foreign Parts, 1806. A Sermon before the Bible Society of 
 Salem and vicinity, 1814. 
 
 In May, 1811, I had the pleasure of spending an hour with Dr. Barnard 
 at his house, being taken thither by the Rev. Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Abbot 
 of Beverly. He was then far advanced in life, and had the appearance of 
 being somewhat infirm. I was struck with the kindliness of his manner and 
 the benignity of his countenance. We found him writing a sermon ; and I 
 remember his telling us that he submitted to the drudgery of copying all 
 his sermons, writing them first on small pieces of paper. He was rather 
 a short man, considerably inclined to corpulency, and his movements were 
 heavy and difficult. There is nothing in any of Dr. Barnard's published 
 works to indicate the peculiar shade of his theological views ; but I learn 
 from those who had the best opportunity of forming a judgment on the 
 subject, that his Theology was nearly the same with that of his father, — 
 that is, that he was a Semi-Arian, or possibly an Arian. 
 
THOMAS BARNAKD. 17 
 
 The following delineation of Dr. Barnard's character is extracted from 
 Dr. Prince's Sermon preached on the occasion of his Death : — 
 
 "As a Man, I can say of him , from an acquaintance of thirty-five years, he possessed 
 those qualities which command respect and interest the heart. He had a happy 
 constitutional temper, was social and cheerful in his disposition, open and affable in 
 his manners: he was approached without restraint, and made every one easy in his com- 
 pany. In his social and cheerful intercourse with others he never forgot the respect 
 which was due to his ministerial character: he honoured himself and his office in all his 
 associations in life. He had great sensibility; his own feelings were strong, and he 
 readily entered into the feelings of others. His expressions and manner in conversa- 
 tion were animated, when the subject was important and interesting; especially when 
 the welfare and happiness of others were concerned. Possessing a benevolent heart, 
 lie was kind and friendly to all, and delighted to do good when opportunity occurred. 
 He felt for the misfortunes of others, and often strongly interested himself to relieve 
 their sufferings. He opened his hands to the poor, who were blest with his charity. 
 One trait in his character, though of a minor kind, is not uninteresting, as flowing from 
 his natural benevolence — he was remarkably attentive to young children; his playful 
 cheerfulness with them interested their little minds, and gained their confidence 
 'To pluck his gown, and share the good man's smiles.' 
 
 "Having a high sense of integrity and a just notion of honour, he abhorred a dis- 
 honest action and despised a mean one. His heart was open and sincere; which gave 
 frankness to his conversation and manners, and led him to censure, sometimes in 
 strong language, craftiness and hypocrisy. Being of too kind a disposition to do or wish 
 ill to any one, he had few or no enemies; (none that he did not forgive;) but it gained 
 him many friends. He had, by study, stored his mind with a fund of useful knowledge; 
 and his study of mankind led him to a correct knowledge of men. He knew the 
 frailties and prejudices of human nature, and how to make allowance for errors and 
 failings; but gross violations of principle, coming from a corrupted mind, and con- 
 ducted by talent, excited his deep regret and severest censures. His good sense and 
 judgment, and his prudence, which lie possessed in a high degree, made him a wise 
 and safe counsellor and gave weight and influence to his advice, which was often asked 
 and followed with advantage. 
 
 "As a Christian, he was highly exemplary in the moral duties of life; pious and 
 fervent in his devotions; and, though cheerful in his general conversation, he was 
 serious when occasion required it. He had humble thoughts of himself, a just sense 
 of his own unworthiness, and relied wholly on the merits of Christ for salvation. Bv 
 diligent reading and study, a free and impartial inquiry, aided by a good judgment, 
 his faith was firmly fixed in the truth of Christianity. 
 
 "As a Minister, he was highly respected and esteemed, and useful in the churches- 
 being often called to assist at councils in the Ordination of ministers, or settling differ- 
 ences among brethren. He was often consulted, and his knowledge and judgment had 
 weight and influence on such occasions. He was catholic in his principles and candid 
 towards those who differed from him. Though zealous, as far as zeal was useful, in 
 inculcating his own sentiments, he did not wish to impose them on any man. He left 
 others to think for themselves, and entertained none of those peculiarities which 
 poison the sweets of charity. He esteemed the honest man, however differing from 
 him in speculative opinions, and embraced him in his charity. He did not mistake 
 passion for pious zeal, nor attempt 
 
 'To murder virtue in the name of God.' 
 
 "As the Lord had declared that the poor had the gospel preached to them he believed 
 that all its doctrines necessary to salvation were within the compass of their under- 
 standing for faith and practice; and that the final salvation of no man depended upon 
 the belief or disbelief of those speculative opinions, about which men equally learned 
 and pious differ; and some perplex their minds, without adding any thing to their 
 knowledge. His preaching, therefore, was more practical than metaphysical • though 
 be did not neglect to discuss any religious subject in his discourses, which he' thought 
 would throw light on the Scriptures, inform the minds of his hearers, and lay open the 
 views and designs of God in the Gospel dispensation, and the character and office of 
 Christ, as the messenger of his grace, and the Redeemer of mankind — such views as 
 would impress the mind with reverence, esteem and love, confirm faith and excite 
 obedience. With what honesty, openness and sincerity, in what a fervent and pious 
 manner, he preached these things, you, my hearers, are his witnesses, who have so long 
 sat under his ministry. I have been informed that his choice of subjects, in the latter 
 part of his life, was more upon the frailties of our nature, its infirmities and mortality 
 than in former days. As he advanced in life, and felt a nearer approach to the end of 
 it, he might naturally be led to the contemplation of these subjects. In confirmation 
 
 Vol. VIII. 2 
 
18 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 of this, I found upon his table, after his death, a part of a sermon which he had begun 
 to write from these words: ' My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength or 
 my heart and my portion forever'— Ps. lxxiii, 26— a striking coincidence between the 
 subject which engaged his mind, at that time, and his death. Probably the very last 
 day he spent on earth, he was employed writing on this subject. \\ hen lie visited 
 you in affliction, how did he pour the balm of consolation into your minds, sympathize 
 with you, share in your sorrows, and encourage and comfort you by the hopes ana 
 promises of the Gospel! How did he counsel and advise you when m dimcu ties ; ana 
 participate in your joys when prosperity smiled upon you! You can recollect these 
 scenes better than I can describe them . I mention them only as a part ot his character 
 and conduct as a Christian minister." 
 
 DANIEL SHUTE, D. D. 
 
 1746—1802. 
 
 FROM THE HON. SOLOMON LINCOLN. 
 
 Boston, February 19, 1863. 
 
 My dear Sir : I have explored with, some care all the sources of informa- 
 tion concerning the late Eev. Dr. Shute, of Hingham, and will now, in 
 compliance with your request, embody, in a brief sketch, wliat I have been 
 able to gather concerning his life and character. 
 
 Daniel Shute, a son of John and Mary (Wayte) Shute, was born in Mai- 
 den, the residence of his parents, on the 19th of July, 17-2. He entered 
 Harvard College in 1739, remained there for the whole term of four years, 
 and was graduated in 1743. Among his classmates were the Hon. Foster 
 Hutchinson, of the Supreme Court of the Province of Massachusetts ; 
 Major Samuel Thaxter, of Hingham, a distinguished officer in the War 
 against the French and the Indians ; the Hon. James Otis, father of the 
 celebrated Revolutionary patriot and orator ; and the Rev. Gad Hitch- 
 cock, D. D., a distinguished divine of Pembroke. 
 
 Mr. Shute, having chosen the profession of Divinity and been licensed 
 to preach, was invited in April, 1746, to commence his professional career 
 as a candidate in the South Parish of Maiden.. In June of the same year, 
 he was invited to preach as a candidate in the recently formed Third Parish 
 in Hingham. This Parish was set off from the first Parish (Dr. Gay's) in 
 that town, March 25, 1745, and, at that time, was designated the Third, as 
 Cohasset, which was the Second Precinct, had not then been incorporated 
 as a separate district or town. This was done in 1770, and the Third 
 Parish of Hingham has since been known as the Second Congregational 
 Parish. The inhabitants composing this Parish, which embraced terri- 
 torially the South part of the town, had contended zealously for nearly 
 twenty years for separate parochial privileges, which were denied to them. 
 Some alienation of feeling naturally grew out of a controversy so long pro- 
 tracted. Confident of ultimate success in their efforts, the inhabitants of 
 the South part of the town had, in 1742, erected a commodious meeting- 
 house, on Glad-Tidings Plain, which is now standing in a good state of 
 preservation. 
 
 Mr. Shute declined an invitation to settle in Maiden, and in September, 
 1746, accepted the call at Hingham. In the following November a church 
 \vas embodied by the Rev. Nathaniel Eelles, of Scituate, and the Rev. Wil- 
 
DANIEL SHUTE. 19 
 
 Ham Smith, of Weymouth. Mr. Shute was ordained their Pastor, December 
 10th, 1746. The Rev. Messrs. Eelles, of Soituate, Lewis, of Pembroke, 
 Emerson, of Maiden, Bayley and Smith, of Weymouth, were invited, with 
 delegates, to form the Ordaining Council. The part performed by each 
 on that occasion is not known. The exercises were not printed. Mr. Gay, 
 of the First Church, was also invited to be present with delegates, but he 
 declined the invitation in behalf of his church, and did not himself attend. 
 He wrote a very conciliatory letter to the new church, in which he says, — 
 " I shall be ready to serve you all I can in your religious affairs and 
 interests, as a Christian neighbour and Gospel minister, though I may not 
 in the particular you have des'ired, as the Messenger of a church (than 
 which an Elder in au Ecclesiastical Council is nothing more). On the walls 
 of a new meeting-house were once engraven these words, — ' Built not for 
 faction, nor a party, but for •promoting faith and repentance, in commu- 
 nion with all that love our Lord Jesus in sincerity.' May this be verified 
 in the house you have erected for Divine worship." But n short time 
 elapsed before the most friendly relations were established between the two 
 Parishes and their Pastors. In May following the settlement of Mr. Shute, 
 he exchanged pulpit services with Dr. Gay, and continued to do so until 
 the death of the latter. Mr. Shute was a frequent guest at the hospitable 
 table of Dr. Gay, and they enjoyed many a frugal repast and rich intel- 
 lectual feast together. 
 
 There was an entire harmony in their religious opinions ; and it has been 
 said that there was great unanimity of sentiment between all the members 
 of the Association to which they belonged, of which Drs. Gay, Shute, 
 Hitchcock, Earnes, Messrs. Smith, Brown, Rand and others, were members. 
 At a. subsequent period of their lives, Gay and Shute took opposite views 
 of the great political questions which agitated the country, — the former 
 being a moderate Tory, and the latter an ardent Whig. Their political 
 differences, however, caused no interruption to their friendship. During 
 a severe illness of Mr. Shute, Dr. Gay manifested the most anxious solici- 
 tude for his recovery ; and expressed the warmest feelings of attachment. 
 The first marriage of Mr. Shute was solemnized by Dr. Gay, and, at" the 
 Funeral of the latter, Mr. Shute, in his Discourse on that occasion, paid a 
 most affectionate tribute to the memory of his distinguished friend. 
 
 The ministry of this venerable man covered more than the last half of 
 the last century. During that period, Pastors and People were severely 
 tried by the French and Revolutionary Wars. In both, Mr. Shute entered 
 warmly into the feelings of the great body of the people, and used an active 
 influence in forming and guiding publis opinion. In 1758 he was appoint- 
 ed, by Governor Pownall, Chaplain of a Regiment commanded by Col. 
 Joseph Williams, raised "for a general invasion of Canada." 
 
 In 1767 he delivered the Annual Sermon before the Ancient and Hon- 
 ourable Artillery Company, from the text, Ecclesiastes, ix, 18: "Wisdom 
 is letter than weapons of war." In 1768, he preached the Election Ser- 
 mon from the text, Ezra x, 4 : "Arise ; for this matter belongeth unto thee ; 
 he will also be ivith thee; be of good courage and do it." Both these 
 discourses were printed, and bear marks of careful composition, sound 
 views and strong common sense. His Sermon at the Funeral of his vene- 
 
20 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 rated friend, Dr. Gay, in 1787, was also published, and was a most impres- 
 sive and fitting memorial of the character of that eminent divine in whose 
 footsteps he delighted to tread. 
 
 No discourse of his has" been published, which presents any discussion of 
 points of controversial theology. Indeed, tradition informs us that his 
 public performances were remarked for the absence of all such topics ; yet 
 it is well understood that he sympathized with those who entertained what 
 were termed " more liberal views " than those entertained by the great 
 body of the clergy. In this respect there was great harmony of opinion 
 in the whole town and in all the parishes which it then contained. 
 
 The sound judgment and knowledge of the human character, possessed 
 by him, were often called in requisition on Ecclesiastical Councils. From 
 his papers, which have been carefully preserved by his descendants, who 
 hold his memory in veneration, he appears often to have been a peace- 
 maker, and to have aided, by his moderation and discreet advice, in com- 
 posing unhappy differences in Parishes quite remote from his own, but to 
 which his reputation had extended. 
 
 His salary was a moderate one. His Parish was not large, and was 
 composed chiefly of substantial farmers and mechanics. To procure the 
 means of a more independent support, he took scholars to prepare them for 
 College and the pursuits of business. 
 
 His pupils being generally sons of wealthy patrons, he derived a con- 
 siderable income from their board and tuition, whereby he enlarged his 
 library, and acquired a respectable amount of real estate, which is now 
 held by his descendants. Among his scholars are recollected the Hon. 
 Thomas H. Perkins, and the Hon. John "Welles of Boston, and sons of 
 General Lincoln and Governor Hancock. 
 
 In 1780 he was chosen by his townsmen a Delegate to the Convention 
 to frame a Constitution for the State, — such was the confidence reposed in 
 his abilities and patriotism. 
 
 In 1788 he was associated with General Lincoln to represent the 
 town in the Convention of Massachusetts, which ratified the Constitu- 
 tion of the United States, and on this occasion voted and took an active 
 part in favour of adopting the Constitution. In the brief sketches of 
 the debates which have been preserved, there is the substance of a 
 speech which he delivered on the subject of a Religious Test, which strik- 
 ingly illustrates his liberality and good sense. It is characterized by a 
 vigorous and manly tone, taking the ground that to establish such a Test 
 as a qualification for offices in the proposed Federal Constitution, would be 
 attended with injurious consequences to some individuals, and with no 
 advantage to the community at large. 
 
 After the close of the Revolutionary war, Mr. Shute devoted himself 
 almost entirely to his parochial duties, indulging occasionally, by way of 
 recreation, in agricultural pursuits. 
 
 In 1790 he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 In November, 1797, on account of the infirmities of age and a failure 
 of his sight, he wrote to his Parish, "Whenever it shall become necessary 
 for you to settle and support a colleague with me, I will relinquish my 
 
DANIEL SHUTE. 21 
 
 stipulated salary, and I will do it as soon as you shall supply the pulpit 
 after I must resign preaching." In April, 1799, he renewed the proposi- 
 tion in a letter to the Parish, in which he remarks, " This relinquishment 
 of my legal right in advanced age, in the fifty-third year of my ministry, I 
 make for the Gospel's sake, — persuading myself that, this embarrassment 
 being removed, you will proceed in the management of your religious con- 
 cerns with greater unanimity and ardour." 
 
 Dr. Shute relinquished his public labours in March, 1799, from which 
 time he retained his pastoral relation until his decease ; but gave up his 
 salary, as he had proposed. The Rev. Nicholas Bowes Whitney, a native 
 of Shirley, and a graduate of Harvard College, in 1793, was ordained as 
 a colleague of Dr. Shute, January 1, 1800. Dr. Shute died August 30, 
 1802, in the eighty-first year of his age, and in the fifty-sixth of his min- 
 istry. At his Funeral a Sermon was delivered by the Rev. Henry Ware 
 (senior) the successor of Dr. Gay, as Pastor of the First Parish. In that 
 sermon Dr. Ware represents him as having enjoyed a distinguished rank 
 among his brethren for talents, respectability and public usefulness ; as 
 having possessed a quick perception and clear discernment, and been capa- 
 ble of tracing a thought in all its various relations ; as having aimed in his 
 preaching at enlightening the understanding, impressing the heart and 
 improving the life ; as having framed his discourses in such a manner that 
 they were level to common capacities, while yet they furnished food for the 
 more reflecting and intelligent ; as having united great solemnity with 
 great pertinence in his addresses at the throne of grace ; as having min- 
 gled with his people with great freedom and kindliness, and sought to pro- 
 mote their advantage, temporal as well as spiritual, by every means in his 
 power. In short, he represents him as a fine model of a clergyman, and 
 as having enjoyed in an unusual degree the confidence of the community 
 in which he lived. And I may add that tradition is in full accordance with 
 Dr. Ware's statements. 
 
 Dr. Shute possessed an excellent constitution, and lived to the age of 
 fourscore years in the enjoyment of an uncommon degree of health until 
 near the close of life. The partial loss of sight was borne with patience 
 and serenity, and the approach of the end of life did not deprive him of 
 his usual cheerfulness. 
 
 He was twice married. His first wife was Mary Cushing, daughter of 
 Abel and Mary (Jacob) Cushing, of Hingham, to whom he was married 
 March 25, 1753. By her he had two children — Mary Shute, born March 
 8, 1754, who died unmarried, August 14, 1825; and Daniel Shute, who 
 was born January 30, 1756, was graduated at Harvard College, in 1775, 
 entered the medical profession, served as a Hospital and Regimental Sur- 
 geon in the Revolutionary War, was in several engagements, and at the 
 siege of Yorktown ; commenced practice in Weymouth, and removed to 
 Hingham, where he continued to practise until old age. He died in Hing- 
 ham, April 18, 1829. 
 
 After the decease of the Rev. Dr. Sliute's first wife, February 12, 1756, 
 he married Deborah, daughter of Elijah and Elizabeth Cushing, of Pem- 
 broke, January 6, 1763. He had no children by her. She died October 
 26, 1823, aged eighty-five. 
 
22 ■ UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 The spacious mansion house erected by Dr. Shute, on Glad-Tidings 
 Plain, near his meeting house, still wears an attractive appearance, and is 
 kept in an excellent state of preservation, worthy of commendation, by 
 the care of descendants ; and they retain, as rich heir-looms, specimens of 
 furniture of the ante-revolutionary period, and choice selections from the 
 Doctor's library, which are at the same time proofs of his taste and of theirs'. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, very sincerely yours, SOLOMON LINCOLN. 
 
 JONATHAN MAYHEW, D. D * 
 
 1717—1766. 
 
 Jonathan Mathew was a son of the Eev. Experience Mayhew, of 
 Martha's Vineyard, where he was born October 8, 1720. He was a 
 descendant, in the fourth generation, from Thomas Mayhew, the first Eng- 
 lish settler and proprietor of that island. In early life, he gave indications 
 of great vigour of mind and an unyielding firmness of purpose ; and, under 
 the influence of a Christian education, imbibed a deep reverence for religion, 
 without, however, as it would seem, at any time, receiving all the doctrines 
 of the accredited orthodox creed. Of the particulars of his childhood and 
 early youth no record now remains ; but it seems probable that he fitted 
 for College under the instruction of his father, who, though not a regular 
 graduate of a College,! was a highly intelligent man, and a respectable 
 scholar. While young Mayhew was an undergraduate at Cambridge, he 
 made a visit to York, in Maine, at the time of a great revival in that place ; 
 and, from a letter which he wrote to his brother, it would seem that he was 
 deeply impressed by much that he saw and heard, while there were many 
 things that he condemned as savouring of extravagance and fanaticism. The 
 observations which he made upon that revival are supposed to have had 
 much to do in giving direction to his conduct on that subject ever afterwards. 
 
 During his college course, his intellectual powers were developed in a 
 very extraordinary manner. While he was a fine classical scholar, and 
 wrote Latin with great ease and elegance, he was still more distinguished 
 for his skill in dialectics and his attainments in ethical science. He gradu- 
 ated with great honour, in 174-1, being then twenty-four years of age. 
 
 During the three years immediately subsequent to his leaving College, 
 he seems to have been engaged part of the time in teaching youth ; part of 
 the time in the study of Theology at Cambridge ; and it is thought that he 
 spent a short time also in the family of Dr. Gay of Hingham. His read- 
 ing, at this period, seems to have been very methodical, and he was accus- 
 tomed to make large extracts from some of his favourite authors. 
 
 His earliest efforts in the pulpit excited no inconsiderable attention. 
 The Church in Cohasset soon gave him a call to settle among them, but 
 he declined it. On the 6th of March, 1747, the West Church in Boston, 
 
 '* Life by Alden Bradford. Mass. Hist. Coll. Ill, VI, X. Dr. Lowell's Historical Dis- 
 courses. 
 
 f Harvard conferred upon him the degree of A. M. in 1720. 
 
JONATHAN MATHEW. 23 
 
 then vacant by the secession of the Kev. William Hooper from Congre- 
 gationalism to Episcopacy, invited him (two only dissenting) to become 
 their Pastor. On the day first appointed for his Ordination, only two of 
 the clergymen invited were in attendance ; owing, as it was understood, to the 
 apprehension that was felt of the unsoundness of the candidate. Those 
 two did not think proper to proceed ; but advised to the calling of another 
 and a larger Council. This advice was complied with — a Council consist- 
 ing of fcrarteen ministers, not one of whom was from Boston, was convoked : 
 and ten of these assembled on the 17th of June, and very harmoniously 
 inducted the candidate into office. All the members of the Council who 
 were present might perhaps be reckoned among the " liberal " men of that 
 day, though there must have been shades of difference in their religious 
 views ; and Dr. Appleton (of Cambridge) at least was understood rather 
 to sympathize doctrinally with the stricter school. The Sermon on the 
 occasion was preached by Dr. Gay of Hingham, and the Charge was given 
 by the father of the Pastor Elect. 
 
 That Mr. Mayhew's liberal opinions were unpopular in Boston may be 
 inferred not only from the fact that no Boston minister took part in his Ordina- 
 tion, but from another equally significant circumstance, — namely, that he nev- 
 er became a member of the Boston Association of Congregational Ministers. 
 It was customary to apply for admission ; but it is presumed that he never 
 applied, as no record of any such application appears in the Minutes. In 
 consequence of this, he did not join with the other ministers of Boston 
 in maintaining the Thursday Lecture ; though he soon set up a Weekly 
 Lecture in his own church, which excited great attention, and attracted 
 many people from other churches in the town. Most of the discourses 
 which were preached on these occasions were subsequently published. In 
 a letter which he addressed to his father, not long after his settlement, he 
 says, — " The clergy of the town stand aloof from me, and I have to study 
 hard, so that I cannot soon visit you, as I intended and desired." Subse- 
 quently to this, however, there seems to have been a change in his favour, 
 and a considerable number who stood aloof from him at first, were willing 
 to extend to him their Christian and ministerial fellowship. 
 
 Mr. Mayhew's publications very early excited great attention, not only 
 in this country but in Great Britain. In the early part of 1750 the 
 degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the University 
 of Aberdeen. 
 
 In 1755 he published a volume of sermons on the " Doctrines of Grace," 
 as he understood them to be taught in the Bible. At the end of the 
 volume is n sermon on the shortness of life, in which there is a marginal 
 note on the doctrine of the Trinity, which was offensive alike to those 
 who did and did not endorse his general views. The Doctor himself sub- 
 sequently expressed his regret at having written it, and sent to England 
 to prevent its being inserted in the London edition ; though it seems not 
 to have been omitted. Dr. Mayhew was, at this time, Scribe of the Massa- 
 chusetts Convention of Congregational Ministers. -When the Scribe was 
 to be appointed the next year after this volume appeared, some member of 
 the Body rose, and objected to the re-election of Dr. Mayhew. Said 
 another member, — " There is no danger of his getting any Arianism into 
 
24 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 the Minutes of the Convention." " Not into the text, but he will foist it 
 into some note," was the reply.* 
 
 In 1756 Dr. Mayhew, at the age of thirty-five, was married to Elizabeth, 
 daughter of John Clark, Esq., of Boston, a lady of excellent education, 
 and remarkable for her beauty and accomplishments. After he paid his 
 addresses to her, an attempt was made to prevent the connection, by 
 means of some representations to her parents of his being unsound in the 
 faith ; but the effect of those representations was neutralized by some of 
 the Doctor's friends, and the union, after some little delay, was happily 
 consummated. The lady was many years younger than himself, but the 
 connection proved to both parties an exceedingly happy one. 
 
 In 1761 Dr. Mayhew was brought, in no very agreeable way, in contact 
 with Governor Bernard. An Indian of Martha's Vineyard came to Boston 
 to present a petition from his tribe to the Governor and Council, for pro- 
 tection against certain persons who had taken away their wood. The Indian 
 told Dr. Mayhew that, in presenting his petition to the Governor, he 
 gave him two dollars, as he supposed was customary, and the Governor put 
 it into Lis pocket. The Doctor, though having full confidence in the 
 Indian's veracity, yet thought it so extraordinary that he asked him whether 
 he had not given it to some other person than the Governor ; to which the 
 Indian replied, with great confidence, that he knew it went into the Gov- 
 ernor's hands. Dr. Mayhew, a few days after, happened to mention the 
 circumstance to two of his intimate friends, one of whom imprudently 
 repeated it in such circumstances that it almost immediately reached the 
 Governor's ears ; and the Doctor was forthwith sent for to answer to the 
 grave charge of falsehood. The Governor's demonstrations towards him 
 were of the most wrathful and menacing kind : he told him that he was 
 just as culpable as if he had made the story ; that he would prosecute him 
 for a libel ; and, after having consulted learned counsel, should send for 
 him at a future day. Dr. Mayhew, after waiting a few days, and being 
 deeply sensible of the injustice and rudeness of the attack which had been 
 made upon him, addressed a long letter to His Excellency, explaining and 
 vindicating his own conduct, and utterly denying the most important charge 
 which the Governor had brought against him. This is the last that is 
 known of the affair, and the presumption is that the " sober second thought" 
 of Governor Bernard was adverse to continuing the controversy. 
 
 In 1763 the Rev. East Apthorp published a pamphlet entitled "Con- 
 siderations on the Institution and Conduct of the Society for Propagating 
 the Gospel," which occasioned a violent controversy, in which Dr. Mayhew 
 bore a prominent part. He wrote a large pamphlet, entitled " Observations 
 on the Character and Conduct of the Society for Propagating the Gospel in 
 Foreign Parts," &c. This was answered by several members of the 
 Society in America, and by Dr. Seeker, Archbishop of Canterbury. The 
 Doctor replied to the pamphlet, entitled " A Candid Examination of 
 Observations," &c, — supposed to be the joint production of Mr. Caner 
 and Dr. Johnson ; and having declared the title page to be false, he then 
 endeavours to prove it so. This was answered in an anonymous tract, and this 
 
 * I received this anecdote from the Rev. Dr. Lathrop of West Springfield. 
 
JONATHAN MAYHEW. 25 
 
 again drew from the Doctor a second Defence of his " Observations," 
 which, though sufficiently pungent, was less satirical and scathing than the 
 preceding one. The controversy was conducted, on both sides, with great 
 spirit ; and put in requisition some of the ablest pens of that day. 
 
 In 1762 Dr. Mayhew published Two Sermons delivered on the day of 
 public Thanksgiving, on " The Extent of the Divine Goodness ;" in which 
 he put forth some views which Calvinists thought to be at variance with the 
 representations of Scripture. The Rev. John Cleaveland, of Ipswich, the 
 next year, published Strictures on these Discourses, which Dr. Mayhew 
 and his friends pronounced to be destitute alike of truth and candour. 
 The Doctor wrote a pamphlet of considerable length in reply, in which he 
 unhesitatingly charges Mr. Cleaveland with "wilful misrepresentation" 
 and "malice prepense," and pours upon him such a torrent of invective as 
 is rarely to be met with in the records of theological controversy. 
 
 In June, 1766, Dr. Mayhew addressed a letter to James Otis, his inti- 
 mate friend, showing the deep interest which he took in the political state 
 of the country, and how important he considered it that a good understand, 
 ing should be maintained among the different Colonies. In this letter he 
 states incidentally his intention to set out for Rutland, the next morning, 
 to assist at an Ecclesiastical Council. The meeting of the Council was on 
 the 10th of June, and he attended and officiated as Scribe. The matters 
 referred to the adjudication of the Council were of a perplexing nature, 
 tasking, in a high degree, the feelings, as well as the wisdom, of its mem- 
 bers. Dr. Mayhew returned home in wet weather, and on horseback, 
 fatigued in body and mind, and was almost immediately seized with a violent 
 fever. For a few days alternate hopes and fears prevailed concerning him ; 
 but, on the 9th of July, his disease came to a fatal termination. Dr. Low- 
 ell states the following circumstance, which he says he has "from unques- 
 tionable authority:" — "When all hope of his recovery was gone, the late 
 Dr. Cooper said to him, — ' Tell me, dear Sir, if you retain the sentiments 
 which you have taught, and what are your views.' With firmness, though 
 with difficulty, he said, taking him affectionately by the hand, ' I hold fast 
 mine integrity, and it shall not depart from me.',, His ministry continued 
 nineteen years. He died in the forty-sixth year of his age. Dr. Chauncy 
 prayed at his Funeral, and it is said to have been the first prayer ever 
 offered at a Funeral in Boston ; so scrupulous were our fathers to avoid 
 what might seem the least approach to the Roman Catholic practice of 
 praying for the dead. Dr. Chauncy preached a Funeral Sermon, on the 
 following Sabbath, and, in a fortnight from that time, another was preached 
 by the Rev. Dr. Gay, who had also preached at his Ordination. Both Ser- 
 mons were published. 
 
 Dr. Mayhew was extensively known in Great Britain, and numbered 
 among his correspondents such men as Lardner, Benson, Kippis, Black- 
 burne, and Hollis. As he was a high Whig in his politics, a staunch friend 
 of civil as well as religious liberty, he was brought into intimate relations 
 with many of the most eminent statesmen of his day. James Otis, James 
 Bowdoin, John Hancock, Robert Treat Paine, Samuel Adams and John 
 Adams, are known to have been among his intimate friends. 
 
26 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Mayhew's publications : — 
 
 Seven Sermons delivered at the Boston Lecture, (an octavo volume,) 
 1749. A Discourse on the Anniversary of the Death of Charles I, 1750. 
 A Sermon on the Death of the Prince of Wales, 1751. Massachusetts 
 Election Sermon, 1754. Sixteen Sermons on various subjects, (an octavo 
 volume,) 1755. A Discourse occasioned by the Earthquakes, 1755. Two 
 Discourses on the same subject, 1755. Two Thanksgiving Sermons for the 
 Success of His Majesty's Arms, 1758. Two Sermons on the Reduction of 
 Quebec, 1759. A Sermon on the Death of Stephen Sewall, 1760. A 
 Sermon occasioned by the Great Eire, 1760. A Sermon on the Death of 
 George II, and the Accession of George III, 1761. Two Sermons on Striving 
 to enter in at the Strait Gate, 1761. Two Thanksgiving Sermons on the 
 Divine Goodness, 1761. Eight Sermons to Young Men on Christian 
 Sobriety, (an octavo volume,) 1763. Observations on the Charter and 
 Conduct of the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, 1763. 
 Defence of the preceding against an Anonymous Pamphlet, 1764. A 
 Second Defence of the same, 1765. Letter of Reproof to John Cleave, 
 land of Ipswich, 1764. Dudleian Lecture, on Popish Idolatry, delivered 
 at Harvard College, 1765. A Thanksgiving Sermon on the Repeal of 
 the Stamp Act, 1766. 
 
 Dr. Mayhew left two children. One of them died in infancy, shortly 
 after his own death, and the other, a daughter, was married to Peter Wain- 
 wright, and was the mother of Bishop Wainwright, of New York. Dr. 
 Mayhew's widow was afterwards married to his successor, the Rev. Dr. 
 Howard. 
 
 The following is an extract from the Sermon preached by Dr. Chauney, 
 on the Sabbath immediately succeeding his death : — 
 
 " The Father of spirits was pleased, in his distinguishing goodness, to favour Dr. 
 Mayhew with superior mental powers. Few surpassed him, either in the quickness of 
 his apprehension, the clearness of his perception, the readiness of his invention, the 
 brightness of his imagination, the comprehension of his understanding, or the sound- 
 ness of his judgment. And, together with these gifts of God, he was endowed with a 
 singular greatness of mind, fortitude of spirit, and yet softness and benevolence of 
 temper: all which, being enlarged and strengthened by a good education, and the 
 opportunity of free converse with men and hooks, soon qualified him to make a con- 
 siderable figure in the world; as he was hereby enabled to speak and write with that 
 freedom of thought, that justness of method, that strength of argument, that facility 
 of expression, that liveliness of fancy, that purity of diction, and that apparent con- 
 cern for the good of mankind, which procured him a name, both here and abroad, 
 which will be remembered with honour long after his body is crumbled into dust. It 
 was this that made way for his correspondence beyond the great waters, which was 
 daily increasing; and, had the wisdom of God seen fit to have continued him in lilt, 
 it might have been of great service to his country as well as himself, if we may judge 
 from what it has already been. 
 
 " He was eminently a friend to liberty, both civil and religious, and if his zeal, at 
 any time, betrayed him into too great a severity of expression, it was against the 
 attempts of those who would make slaves either of men's souls or bodies. He nobly 
 claimed that which he esteemed equally the right of others, — the liberty of thinking 
 for himself; and he made use of all proper helps in order to his thinking right. He 
 freely consulted the writings of men of all persuasions, not omitting to read the works 
 of systematical divines and metaphysical schoolmen ; though he paid no regard to 
 any thing he found in them, but in subserviency to the sacred books of Scripture. 
 These he firmly adhered to, as containing the revelations of God, making them the one 
 only rule of his religous faith. " What saith the Scripture ? " — was his grand inquiry ,■ 
 and, as his sentiments as a Christian and divine were the result therefrom, he had the 
 honesty- and resolution to preach and publish the truth in Christ, according to the 
 apprehension he had formed of it. If he differed from some others on a few points, 
 
JONATHAN MAYHEW. 27 
 
 they differed as much from him. Nor had they, on this account, any greater right to 
 judge him than he had to judge them; though he did not presume to do this; as he 
 tiiought, with exact truth and justice, tiiat we have all one common Lord, to whom we 
 are accountable, and by whose judgment only, we shall either stand or fall in the 
 coming great day of trial. 
 
 " lie was an avowed enemy to all human establishments in religion, especially the 
 establishment of mere ceremonial rights as necessary to Christian communion. And, 
 as he esteemed this a direct usurpation of that right, which is proper only to Jesus 
 Christ, the only supreme Head of the Christian Church, it may be an excuse for him, 
 if he has ever expressed himself with too great a degree of asperity upon this head. 
 
 " It was highly offensive to him when he perceived in any an evident breach of trust; 
 especially if the trust related to the things of religion and another world. And, as he 
 had upon his mind a clear and full conviction, in common with many others, that this 
 breach of trust was justly chargeable upon a certain respectable society at home, 
 though they might be led into it through repeated misinformations from their corre- 
 spondents here; it was this that gave rise to the several pieces he wrote upon this 
 subject; in which he honoured himself, served these churches, and prevented the 
 application of much of that charity for the propagation of Episcopacy, which was 
 intended for the propagation at' Christianity. He has received acknowledgments from 
 England, on account of these writings, and from some of the Episcopal persuasion, 
 who were fully with him in his sentiments npon the main point he had in view. 
 
 " Besides what has been said, those acquainted with the Doctor must have observed 
 that manliness of spirit, that friendliness of disposition, that freedom and cheerfulness 
 of temper, which rendered him agreeable to those who had the opportunity of con- 
 versing with him. They must also have seen his amiable behaviour in the several 
 relations of life. As a husband, how faithful and kind ! As a father, how tender and 
 affectionate ! As a master, how just and equal ! knowing that he had a Master in 
 Heaven. As a friend, how true to his professions ! with what confidence to be trusted 
 in ! As a neighbour, how ready to all the offices of love and goodness ! Instead of 
 being deficient, he rather exceeded, in the acts of his liberality and charily. Asa 
 minister, how diligent, how laborious, how skilful! making it his care to contrive his 
 discourses so as to inform the mind and touch the heart, so as at once to entertain and 
 profit both the learned and the illiterate, the polite and less cultivated hearer. Few 
 were able to compose their sermons with so much ease, and yet so much pertinence; 
 and few preached with greater constancy, or took occasion more frequently, from 
 occurrences in the conduct of Providence, to make what they said seasonable and 
 profitable to their hearers. 
 
 " But what is more than all that has been offered, he was, in the judgment of those 
 who best knew him, a man of real piety and true devotiqn ; an upright, sincere disciple 
 and servant of Jesus Christ. Was it proper to mention the time, manner and circum- 
 stances of his becoming possessed of that faith in God and his Son Jesus Christ, 
 which purified his heart and became in him an habitual powerful principle of virtuous 
 action, I doubt not but even those would entertain a good opinion of him as a real 
 Christian, who may have been greatly wanting in their candour and charity towards 
 him, because, in some points, his thoughts did not agree with theirs. I have abundant 
 reason to believe, from what I know of him, that it was his great endeavour to live in 
 all good conscience towards God and man. And should *I appeal to you, the people 
 of his charge, you would all, I doubt not, rise up and declare his approbation and 
 practice of the things that were true, honest, just, pure, lovely and of good report. 
 You would appear as witnesses, and say that he had been to you an example in word, 
 in conversation, in charity, in faith, in purity and in all those other virtues which 
 adorn the Christian's and the minister's character. Not that he was without his 
 imperfections and failings; I know he had them, and he knew it too; and everyone 
 else knows that he has many infirmities, who, in any tolerable degree, knows himself. 
 But he was uniform and steady in his regards to the religion of Jesus; not placing it 
 in tithes of mint, anise and cummin, but the practice of the weightier matters of the 
 law, — judgment, mercy and faith; though, after all, instead of trusting that he was 
 righteous, in the sense of rigorous law, he esteemed himself " an unprofitable servant." 
 and had his dependence on the mercy of God, through the mediation of the only Saviour 
 Jesus Christ. In this temper he lived, and in the same temper, I believe, he would 
 have died, had it pleased the all-wise, righteous and holy Sovereign of the world to 
 have permitted the free use of his reasonable powers. And he is now, as to his soul 
 or spirit, we charitably believe, in that invisible world, which was the great object of 
 his hope, and where he will be happy, without any mixture of evil, forever. 
 
 The following extracts from a volume of Sermons, published by Dr. 
 Mayhew, in 1755, are more explicit in respect to his theological views than 
 any thing else to be found in his writings. 
 
28 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 " It was by the ordination of God that we were put into these bodies ; which expose 
 us so much to temptation that it is almost, if not altogether, impossible for us wholly 
 to avoid sinning. And hence, I suppose, it is that we are said to be by nature, child- 
 ren of wrath; for no farther than we are naturally the children of disobedience, can 
 we be naturally the children or the objects of wrath. However, no passion or affection 
 with which we are born, can be in itself sinful; it becomes so only by wilful or careless 
 indulgence-. A creature cannot, strictly speaking, be a sinner, till he has violated some 
 law of God or of nature: for : sin is the transgression of the law.' " (P. 434.) 
 
 " There are none, perhaps,. who have more reason to be suspicious of themselves 
 than your hot, religious zealots; the great sticklers for what they call Orthodoxy, — 
 whether justly or unjustly, it now matters not. You will sometimes see men, wrang- 
 ling in such an unchristian manner about the form of godliness, as to make it but 
 too evident that they deny the power thereof. Tou will find some who pride them- 
 selves in being of what they call the true Church, showing by their whole conversation 
 that thuy are of the synagogue of Satan. Some contend, and foam, and curse their 
 brethren, for the sake of the Athanasian Trinity, till 'tis evident they do not love and 
 fear the one living and true God as they ought to do. Others you will see raging 
 about their peculiar notions of original sin, so as to prove themselves guilty of actual 
 transgression; about election, till they prove themselves reprobates; about particular 
 redemption, till they show that they themselves are not redeemed from a vain con- 
 versation. You will hear others quarrelling about imputed righteousness with such 
 fury and bitterness as to show that they are destitute of personal ; about special grace, 
 so as to show that they have not even common; about faith, while they make ship- 
 wreck of a good conscience; and about the final perseverance of the saints, till they 
 prove themselves to be no saints; and that, if they had ever any goodness or grace, 
 they are now fallen from it. (P. 403.) 
 
 " Job xxxviii, 7, compared with Isai. ix, 12. " How art thou fallen from Heaven, 
 Lucifer, son of the morning ! " — The king of Babylon is here more immediately 
 intended, (ver. 4.) but there is a plain allusion to the Prince of the Devils, once a 
 son of the morning, a morning star, and one of the sons of God, who are sometimes 
 called Elohim. It does not appear that there were any apostate spirits or devils, 
 before man's creation. Lucifer, the first Pretender, seems then to have fallen, when he 
 tempted man to rebel; setting himself up as the Prince and God of this world, and 
 telling our first parents that they should not die but be as the Elohim. After the fall, 
 we know there were many Elohirn, both good and bad; but only one Jehovah who 
 was to be worshipped by sacrifice, Exod. xxii. 20, Qui sacrificat Diis, (Heb- Elohim) 
 f renter quam soli Jehovce, anathema sit — He that sacrificeth to the Gods, (to the Elohim ,) 
 except to the only Jehovah, let him be accursed. This is the language of the Old 
 Testament — What says the New ? ' There be gods many, and lords many, but to us 
 there is but one God the Father.' The contrast to Lucifer, see Heb. i, 9 : Thou hast 
 loved righteousness and hated iniquity; therefore God, even thy God hath anointed 
 thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows. Betwixt whom and the serpent ivas 
 it that enmity was to be put ? Who was finally to bruise his head after a long contest? 
 (See Dan. x, 13, and ver. 21. Also chap, xii, ver. 1.) Who was manifested in the 
 fulness of time to destroy the works of the devil ? to judge, and cast out, the prince 
 of this world, who was a Liar and a murderer from the beginning ? AVas it not the 
 Logos? He, who is, by wa*y of eminence, styled, The only begotten of the Father, 
 the first-born of every creature? He who was known, (imperfectly,) even under the 
 Old Testament, by these titles — The Angel of the Lord's presence; The Angel of the 
 Covenant; The Messenger of the Covenant; and whom David in spirit called his 
 Lord, though he was to be his Son according to the flesh'! The contest betwixt the 
 great Friend and Patron of mankind, and the enemy of all good, together with the 
 final decision and issue of it, was represented to St. John, in vision, Apoc. xii, 7. 
 'And there was war in Heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; 
 and the dragon fought and his angels and prevailed not — and the great dragon was 
 cast out, that old serpent called the Devil and Satan, which deeeiveth the whole world'. 
 ' The Scripture informs us that the Logos had a body prepared for him, and that he 
 partook of flesh and blood, that he might, ' through death, destroy him that had the 
 power of death, that is, the devil.' But that he took into personal union with him- 
 self an human soul, my Bible saith not; nor that there is any other true God, besides 
 " his Father and our Father, his God and our God." Indeed, some, who call them- 
 selves Christians, have exalted even the Virgin Mary above all that is called God in 
 Heaven, and that is worshipped there; saying that she is more kind and merciful than 
 God Himself; and praying to her to command her son to befriend them ; styling her the 
 Mother of God, &c. It would be no surprise to me to hear that the Pope and a General 
 Council had declared the B. Virgin to be the fourth, or rather the first, person in the 
 Godhead, under the title of God, or Goddess, the Mother; adding that neither the 
 persons are to be confounded, nor the substance divided; that the Mother is eternal, 
 the Father is eternal, the Son eternal, and the Holy Ghost eternal; but yet that these 
 
GAD HITCHCOCK. 
 
 29 
 
 are not four eternals, but one Eternal; that this is the Catholic faith, which except a 
 man believe faithfully, he cannot be saved. He that hath an ear to hear, let him 
 hear! and he that hath a mouth given him to blaspheme, (Rev. xiii, 5. 6.) and a 
 tongue to babble without ideas, (understanding not what he says nor whereof he affirms ,) 
 let him blaspheme and babble! But neither Papists nor Protestants should imagine 
 that they will be understood by others, if they do not understand themselves; nor 
 should they think that nonsense and contradictions can ever be too sacred to bo 
 ridiculous J 1 
 
 GAD HITCHCOCK, D. D * 
 
 1748—1803. 
 
 Gad Hitchcock was born in Springfield, Mass., February 12, 1718 — 
 19. He was a son of Ebenezer and Mary (Sheldon) Hitchcock, and, on 
 the mother's side, was a descendant, in the fourth generation, from the 
 Hon. John Pyncheon, and in the fifth, from the Hon. William Pyncheon, 
 the father of the town of Springfield. He was graduated at Harvard Col- 
 lege in 1743, and was ordained and installed over the Second Parish in 
 Pembroke, (now a distinct town by the name of Hanson,) Mass., in Octo- 
 ber, 1748. There is a tradition that a portion of the Council that ordained 
 him were dissatisfied with some of the views of Christian doctrine which he 
 expressed on his examination, and that, in consequence of this, the ordain- 
 ing services were postponed for one day. 
 
 During the Revolutionary War, he was a warm friend to the American 
 cause, and, in several instances, officiated as Chaplain. On these occasions, 
 he not only attended diligently to the appropriate duties of his office, but 
 proved to the soldiers that he was not disposed to screen himself from the 
 dangers that he encouraged them to encounter. At a subsequent period, 
 he was a member of the Convention that framed the Constitution of Massa- 
 chusetts. 
 
 In 1787 he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 Dr. Hitchcock was blest with a good constitution, and generally with 
 vigorous health, and was able to continue his professional labours without 
 interruption till he was far advanced in life. In July, 1799, he was 
 attacked with paralysis, while he was preaching, and never entered the 
 pulpit afterwards. He so far recovered from the shock that he was able to 
 converse, but not to engage in any active service. He lingered in this 
 depressed state, nearly four years, and died on the 8th of August, 1803, at 
 the age of eighty-five. The Funeral service, consisting of only a prayer, 
 according to his own direction, was performed by the Rev. Dr. Barnes, of 
 Scituate. 
 
 He was married, in early life, to Dorothy Angier, of Cambridge, who 
 died August 6, 1792, aged seventy-nine. They had only one child, — a son 
 bearing his father's name, who graduated at Harvard College in 1768 
 settled as a phyiscian in his native parish, and died in 1835, aged eighty- 
 six. 
 
 " Mes. from Hon. 0. B. Morris and Rev. Dr. Fierce. 
 
30 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Hitchcock's publications : — 
 A Sermon preached before a Military Company, 1757. A Sermon 
 preached at the Ordination of Enos Hitchcock, Beverly, 1771. A Sermon 
 preached at Boston on occasion of the General Election, 1774. A Sermon 
 preached at Plymouth in Commemoration of the First Landing of our 
 Ancestors, 177-1. Dudleian Lecture at Harvard College, 1779. 
 
 PROM THE REV. MORRILL ALLEN. 
 
 Pembroke, March 28, 1853. 
 
 Dear Sir : My opportunities for knowing Dr. Hitchcock personally were much 
 less than you seem to have supposed. He was not settled over the same Parish 
 of which I have had the charge, but over an adjoining Parish in what was then 
 the same town. I never even saw him till after he had been struck down by 
 paralysis, and reduced almost to a wreck. Still I could form some judgment 
 of him, even in that enfeebled state; and I heard much of him from his con. 
 temporaries, who had known him in his better days. Perhaps, therefore, I 
 may be able to give you a tolerably correct idea of the leading traits of his 
 character. 
 
 Dr. Hitchcock was a rather tall, but well-proportioned, man; and, with a 
 large wig, — an indispensable article of dress in his day, must have made a 
 very respectable and even dignified appearance in the pulpit. He had un- 
 doubtedly a high reputation as a Preacher. He would not be considered, 
 perhaps, at this day, a graceful and accomplished writer, but his discourses 
 were characterized by great energy of thought and perspicuity of style, 
 and he had a corresponding boldness and honesty of manner, that was well 
 fitted to gain and hold the attention. Of the character of his sermons I judge 
 only from tradition, and from the very few specimens that are in print; as his 
 son informed me that, soon after his father's death, he had, according to 
 direction, performed the painful task of committing all his manuscript sermons 
 to the flames. 
 
 As to his religious opinions, I suppose there is no doubt that, through his 
 whole ministry, he was a High Arian, and a constant preacher of the doctrines 
 in that age termed liberal; but, if now living, probably he would be standing 
 midway between what is called Orthodoxy and Modern Liberalit}'. 
 
 Dr. Hitchcock was remarkable both for courage and for patriotism. The first 
 sermon which he published, addressed to a military company, when the 
 French were making inroads on our Northern frontier, urges the most vig- 
 orous means of defence, and evinces a spirit that would be little likely to fal- 
 ter in the hour of danger. His Election Sermon, which was preached only the 
 year before the breaking out of the Revolutionary War, filled Governor 
 Gage, who was present, with great wrath, on account of the boldness of its 
 positions, not to say, the air of defiance that pervaded it. Even the Preacher's 
 own friends are said to have been surprised at some of the statements which 
 he ventured in the Governor's presence. Tradition says that the Sermon 
 was prepared under the expectation that the Governor would not be present 
 to hear it; and, after his arrival was announced, some friend earnestly advised 
 the Doctor to be very guarded in his expressions before him. But the prompt 
 answer was, — " My Sermon is written, and it will not be altered." 
 
 In private life Dr. Hitchcock was eminentl}' agreeable, though he had some 
 strongly marked peculiarities. He was mirthful, and imparted great anima- 
 tion to almost every social circle in which he appeared. He could encourage 
 virtue and reprove vice, without any external signs of austerity. It was 
 pleasant to him to utter or listen to parables which exhibited human weak- 
 
GAD HITCHCOCK. 31 
 
 nesses, and led to a just estimate of the opposite excellences. " Be merry and 
 wise " was his habitual advice to the young on occasions of joy. 
 
 Perhaps his peculiar turn of mind cannot be made more intelligible than by 
 the relation of two or three illustrative anecdotes. The Doctor, as was not 
 unusual at the period when he lived, was very formal in his devotional services, 
 repeating, Sabbath after Sabbath, precisely the same expressions. One of his 
 parishioners ventured to suggest to him the desirableness of a change in this 
 respect, and told him that even the boys were repeating his prayers in the 
 street: the prompt reply was, — " Then they will know how to pray for them- 
 selves." 
 
 There was a familiarity in the manners and conversation of Dr. Hitchcock, 
 not common among clergymen at that da}'. lie was likely to enter into conver- 
 sation with any person he met in journeying, and would amuse himself in giving 
 and receiving j.okes. On his way to Boston, he once fell in company with a sailor, 
 and questioned him pretty freely concerning his name, residence, business, &c. 
 The sailor, having answered the questions, proposed, in his turn, similar ques- 
 tions to the Doctor, and the reply was " My name is Gad Hitchcock, and I belong 
 to Tunk — (by this name his parish was distinguished, when it was part of 
 Pembroke.) .The sailor repeated the three names, and, in his own peculiar 
 manner, cried out, — " Three of the worst names I ever heard." This retort 
 cheered the old man during the rest of his journey. When the Doctor was 
 in Boston, at a, certain time, he met a, sailor, and asked him if he could box 
 the compass. The answer was "Yes." << Let me hear you." The sailor 
 performed correctly. " Now," said the Doctor, << reverse it." This too was 
 done with equal promptness. The sailor then asked what his occupation 
 was; and, on being informed that he was a minister, asked him if he could 
 repeat certain portions of Scripture; and when the Doctor had repeated them, 
 " Now " said the sailor, " reverse them." Such a joke Dr. Hitchcock would 
 enjoj", and repeat with great satisfaction. 
 
 He was a very prominent and valued member of the Association of minis- 
 ters to which he belonged. Sometimes his jokes upon certain individuals were 
 rather severe; but he imparted great animation to their social meetings. On 
 one occasion, when he had made some remark that produced a general laugh, 
 one of the members observed that the brethren would laugh at any thing Dr. 
 Hitchcock might say, but that he might have said the same thing, and it 
 would have passed unnoticed. " Try," said the Doctor. 
 
 In these several instances, we see the man in the hours of relaxation from 
 laborious pursuit; but it would be wrong. to infer that the energies of his 
 mind were not habitually applied to more important objects. His protracted 
 ministry was, in every period of it, peaceful and apparently prosperous. The 
 Parish, small at first, grew, under his ministry, to a very respectable size. 
 The Doctor's friends are said to have often expressed their surprise that a 
 man of such vigorous powers, and such popular talents, should have consented 
 to settle and to remain in so obscure a place; but he was accustomed to say 
 that it was his deliberate choice, and he had always been well satisfied with 
 his situation. He loved his people, and they loved and respected him. His 
 memory is still gratefully cherished in this neighbourhood. 
 
 With much consideration, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 MORRILL ALLEN. 
 
32 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 DAVID BARNES, D. D* 
 
 1753—1811. 
 
 David Barnes was born in Marlborough, Mass., on the 24th of March, 
 1731. He was a son of Daniel Barnes, a substantial farmer, having 
 twelve children, of whom David was the fifth. He was graduated at Har- 
 vard College in 1752, and must have commenced preaching shortly after, 
 as he received an invitation to settle in Quincy in 1753. This invitation 
 ho declined ; and afterwards declined it a second time, upon its being 
 renewed under more favourable circumstances. He preached first to the 
 Second Church in Scituate, in June, 1754, and, on the 15th of August 
 following, was unanimously invited to become their Pastor. He accepted 
 the invitation, and was ordained and installed on the 4th of the ensuing 
 December. 
 
 His ministry opened with fair prospects, and his people were united and 
 prosperous ; but, before many years, he had to encounter serious difficulties, 
 growing chiefly out of the distracted state of the country. Throughout 
 the War of the Revolution, his salary was paid in the depreciated Continen- 
 tal currency, and he was obliged to depend almost entirely for the support 
 of his family on the small property of his wife. When the controversy, 
 which resulted in the division of the Congregational Church of Massachu- 
 setts, began, it was well understood that his sympathies were on the 
 "liberal" side; and, as there was a portion of his congregation who dis- 
 agreed with him, he used frequently to converse with them, and sometimes 
 manifested a degree of shrewdness, which few were able successfully to 
 meet. His death occurred before the lines between the two parties were 
 formally and finally drawn. 
 
 In the year 1780 he delivered the Dudleian Lecture at Harvard Univer- 
 sity ; and, in 1799, received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the same 
 institution. 
 
 Dr. Barnes exhibited great calmness and dignity in his old age. He 
 used to say that, even if it were not the fixed design of Providence that 
 nothing should go back, it would still be his choice to go forward, and see 
 for himself what is to come in other modes of existence. In 1809, fifteen 
 months before his death, he had a colleague settled, and, after that, he 
 attempted but few public services. He died on the 26th of April, 1811, 
 having completed eighty years, fifty-seven of which he had spent in the 
 ministry. 
 
 He was married, in 1756, to Bachel, daughter of the Hon. George 
 Leonard, of Norton. They had three children, — one son and two daughters. 
 The son, (David Leonard,) was born January 28th, 1760; was graduated 
 at Harvard College in 1780 ; was a lawyer of distinction in Taunton and 
 Providence, and afterwards Judge of the District Court of the United 
 States for Rhode Island. He died on the 3d of November, 1812. 
 
 •Deane's Hist, of Scituate. — Ms. from Rev. C. Stetson. 
 
DAVID BARNES. 33 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Barnes' publications : — 
 An Ordination Sermon, 1756. A Sermon on the Love of Life and 
 Fear of Death, 1795. A Discourse on Education, before the Trustees of 
 the Derby Academy, 1796. A Sermon on the Death of Washington, 1800. 
 A Sermon on the Death of the Bev. James Hawley, 1801. A Sermon at 
 the Ordination of Jotham Waterman,* 1802. In 1815, a small posthumous 
 volume of Dr. Barnes' sermons was published, with a notice of his character, 
 by the Rev. Dr. Allyn of Duxbury. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JAMES KENDALL, D. D. 
 
 Plymouth, Mass., December 1G, 1848. % 
 
 My dear Sir: I think I understand the object of your letter, and it is in my 
 heart to comply at once with your request. The only circumstance that em- 
 barrasses me is the fear of leaving a wrong impression of Dr. Barnes' char- 
 acter. It is impossible duly to appreciate him without having known him, — 
 not merely as a minister, but as a man in all the relations of life. His char- 
 acter was so peculiar that unless the different parts of it are viewed in 
 connection with each other, he will be sure to pass for something that he 
 really was not. I think I knew him tolerably well; for I often saw him and 
 heard him, in public and in private, at home and abroad; and in the earlier part 
 of my ministry he frequently visited this place. I considered him not only 
 an affectionate husband and father, and a generous and candid neighbour and 
 friend, but a man of profound reverence for sacred things, and of strong reli- 
 gious sensibility. And yet the report of many of his sayings would, I think, 
 leave on the mind of the hearer or reader, who knew him only from these 
 sayings, a different impression — they would seem to indicate a levity of mind, — 
 an irreverent, not to say frivolous, way of speaking of things of a serious 
 nature. This arose partly from a quaint, laconic, pithy manner of giving 
 utterance to his thoughts. He was accustomed to condense every thing that 
 he said, in the highest possible degree. One of his contemporaries, with 
 whom I was familiar, used to say, — "Every sentence Dr. Barnes writes or 
 speaks, is as full as an egg." In his advanced age he became very deaf, and 
 of course unable to regulate his own voice. This added to the peculiarity of 
 his manner, — of which he seemed conscious. On one occasion, being called 
 to deliver an Address before the Trustees and Pupils of the Derby Academy in 
 Hingham, — discoursing on eloquence, he stopped short, and, at the top of his 
 voice, exclaimed, << Methinks I hear some of you say, — -'Physician healthy- 
 self.' But, my friends, a physician can sometimes help others, when he can't 
 help himself." And yet I remember hearing my mother say that she heard Dr. 
 Barnes in Lexington, her native place, when preaching as a candidate in early 
 life, and that he was then regarded as one of the most popular and eloquent 
 preachers of the time. 
 
 Dr. Barnes, as a Preacher, may be said to have been unique. His voice 
 was, by no means, remarkable for its melody, nor could he be said to manage 
 it with any uncommon skill; and yet there was that about his manner, espe- 
 cially in his sudden transitions from a high to a low note, that was well fitted 
 to hold the attention. The matter of his discourses was characterized by an 
 almost endless variety. He would find lessons of truth or wisdom in every 
 thing; and, though some of his subjects might at first provoke a smile, yet 
 he would always draw something from them that was fitted to make men 
 
 * Jotiiam Waterman was born in Scituate ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1799 ■ 
 ■was ordained at Barnstable, September 30, 1801: was dismissed in July, 1815; and died 
 September 14, 1836, aged sixty-two. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 3 
 
o4 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 better in their various relations. I remember one of his pointed sayings 
 which he uttered in his own emphatic manner and with great effect, in the 
 Charge which he delivered at the Ordination of his colleague, the Rev. Mr. 
 Deane — « In attempting," said he, " to instruct your people, be careful not 
 to preach what they cannot understand: and especially be careful not to 
 preach what you do not understand yourself." 
 
 Although Br. Barnes' constitution was naturally delicate, yet, with great 
 care and skill, his health was preserved to a good old age. He was a farmer both 
 in theory and in practice, and was particularly versed in the curious economy 
 of bees, and successful in their management. He exercised a great deal, and 
 was accustomed to walk, even in old age, to distant parts of his parish. His 
 friends remonstrated with him for making the effort, and inquired why he did 
 not have his horse harnessed, and ride in his chaise. His answer was — and 
 it became quite a proverbial saying among his people — "If an old man 
 means to have any benefit from his legs, he must keep them going." Dr. 
 Barnes' extreme deafness, to which I have already referred, and which con- 
 tinued through the last ten years of his life, led him to talk the more without 
 listening to others; and it was often both amusing and instructive to hear the 
 dialogues which he would carry on with himself in the midst of company; 
 for he would not, like the generality of people, ever sit silent, or speak only 
 in monosyllables. 
 
 Dr. Barnes, in his theological views, was undoubtedly an Arminian. His 
 friend, Dr. Allyn, has said of him, that he would have delighted in the com- 
 pany of such men as John Locke, Bishop Watson, and Dr. Paley, had he 
 lived in their time. He was a man of large and comprehensive mind, and 
 of extensive reading. I do not remember to have heard him, either in public 
 or private, state his views of the doctrine of the Trinity, and yet from facts 
 that have come to my knowledge, I have no doubt that he was in some sense 
 a Unitarian, believing, however, in the pre-existence of the Saviour. He was 
 not accustomed to introduce controversial subjects into the pulpit, though, 
 in private, he would converse freely on any theological question that might be 
 started. 
 
 He was decidedly opposed to all ecclesiastical domination, whether 
 Catholic or Protestant. He was averse to controversy, — especially religious 
 ■controversy, on account of the unchristian temper so often manifested by those 
 who engage in it; and, whenever he was drawn into it, instead of meeting his 
 .opponent by a direct argument, he would often reason most ingeniously by 
 parables. 
 
 I have in my recollection a good many sayings of Dr. Barnes, — some of 
 which I heard myself, and others I received from those who heard them, which 
 are -characteristic of his peculiar manner. It was his practice, whether at a 
 marriage or a funeral, to describe the character of the parties. If at 
 a funeral, for instance, — supposing the deceased were of a mixed character, 
 partly good and commendable and partly otherwise, it would be known by 
 the service. From his charitable disposition, however, he would dwell par- 
 ticularly on the good qualities of the deceased; which led my neighbour, 
 Father Vrillis, once to remark that Dr. Barnes was the only clergyman he 
 ever knew, who could describe the character of a person in a funeral service 
 without giving offence. One of the anecdotes that yet remain concerning the 
 Doctor is, that at the funeral of a respectable parishioner, who had many 
 virtues, and whose general character was praiseworthy, — but who, at an 
 earlier period of life had fallen into some immorality, — of which, however, it 
 was generally believed he had repented, — having dwelt upon the good traits 
 in the character of his parishioner, Dr. Barnes, after a sudden pause, pro- 
 ceeded: — "In short,, we know nothing against the character of our deceased 
 
WILLIAM SYMMES. 35 
 
 ffiend, save in the matter of Uriah; and for this every body forgave him, but 
 he could never forgive himself." 
 
 I shall be glad, if what I have thus written, currente calamo, shall be of any 
 use in enabling you to understand and illustrate the character of a man, who, 
 for both his intellectual and moral qualities, well deserves to be commemorated. 
 
 With great respect and regard, 
 
 Your friend and brother, 
 
 JAMES KENDALL. 
 
 WILLIAM SYMMES, D. D. 
 
 1757—1807. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ABIEL ABBOT, D. D. 
 
 Peterborough, N. H., May 29, 1850. 
 
 My dear Friend : As I was somewhat acquainted with Dr. Symmes, of 
 Andover, and occasionally heard him preach, and, after his death, resided 
 several years in the parish where he had been settled, and had intimate 
 intercourse with his friends and parishioners, I cannot reasonably decline 
 your request for some notices of his character and ministry. If the fol- 
 lowing imperfect and meagre sketch can avail to your purpose, I shall feel 
 happy in having contributed it. 
 
 William Symmes was a descendant of the Rev. Zacharias Symmes, 
 who came to this country in 1635, and settled in Charlestown, Mass. He 
 (William) was born in Charlestown in the year 1731, and was graduated 
 at Harvard College, in 1750, where he was a Tutor from 1755 to 1758. 
 He began to preach in the North Parish in Andover soon after the decease 
 of the Rev. John Barnard. On the 5th of December, 1757, he was invi- 
 ted to settle there in the Gospel ministry, and the third Wednesday of 
 March following was appointed for his Ordination ; but, on account of his 
 being visited by a severe illness, his Ordination did not take place till the 
 1st of November, 1758 — the Sermon on that occasion was preached by 
 the Rev. Mr. Cooke of Notomy, since West Cambridge. Here he con- 
 tinued his labours with great acceptance and usefulness nearly half a cen- 
 tury. He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard Col- 
 lege in 1803. He died on the third of May, 1807, aged seventy-six. 
 
 The ministry of Doctor Symmes embraced a very difficult and eventful 
 period. He was settled during the French War. Soon after the Peace of 
 1763, the troubles between Great Britain and the Colonies commenced, 
 which brought on the War of the Revolution. During this war, the depre- 
 ciation of the currency, and the pressure on the people, rendered it difficult 
 for clergymen to support their families. The Federal Government was 
 scarcely organized before the commencement of the French Revolution, 
 which divided this country into parties, and, by increasing the demand for 
 the articles of living, operated unfavourably upon all who depended upon 
 a small stipend for maintenance. The nobleness of mind with which 
 he sustained the embarrassment may be seen from the following transao- 
 
36 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tion:— In April, 1780, the parish "voted to raise £1,940, to pay the 
 deficiency of Rev. Mr. Symmes' salary since the depreciation of paper 
 money, which is esteemed, with the money already given him, equal to the 
 £80 contracted, to the commencement of the present year of his minis- 
 try." — "The Rev. W. Symmes gives his thanks to the parish for their 
 generous vote, and relinquishes one thousand dollars of the £1,940." 
 
 During his ministry there was harmony in the church ; his people were 
 remarkably united ; in his large parish there were no sectaries. His par- 
 ishioners, with whom I have been intimate, were accustomed to speak of 
 him with great respect, and they who were most capable of appreciating 
 his talents and acquirements, held him in high estimation. Harmony and 
 good fellowship were maintained between him and Mr. French, the minis- 
 ter of the South parish, notwithstanding they differed considerably in 
 their views of some theological subjects. They regularly exchanged labours 
 the Sabbath after the Annual Fast and Thanksgiving, and occasionally at 
 other times, and kept up a Monthly Lecture alternately in each parish, 
 each supplying the other's pulpit. 
 
 Dr. Symmes was a good scholar, of extensive reading, and an able divine. 
 He devoted himself exclusively to his profession, and was occupied through 
 life in theological pursuits. His sermons were full of appropriate thoughts, 
 and were written with great care, and in a style remarkably neat, perspic- 
 uous and correct. His preaching was plain and practical. Subjects of 
 controversy I think he rarely brought into the pulpit. He did not, how- 
 ever, omit to notice what he regarded the prevailing errors of the times. 
 His discourses were not delivered with such fluency and grace as to charm 
 and captivate the multitude ; but they were highly valued by men of cul- 
 tivated minds. In his religious opinions he accorded rather with Armin- 
 ius than Calvin ; and with Arius rather than Athanasius. Though he was 
 constituted with much more than ordinary excitability, his self-control 
 rarely failed him. He was called to experience many severe afflictions, 
 but he bore them with exemplary fortitude and resignation. He was mod- 
 est and ditfident, and, it is said, could never divest himself of feelings, in 
 the discharge of public duty, which often embarrass young men, when enter- 
 ing on the sacred profession. He was a strict observer of order and pro- 
 priety. He was of about the middle height and somewhat corpulent ; 
 and, when dressed, he wore a white bush-wig, in accordance with the fash- 
 ion of his early days. His manners were dignified but easy ; he was hos- 
 pitable and benevolent, and, by his urbanity, rendered himself espec- 
 ially agreeable to strangers. He was distinguished for his prudence, his 
 sound moral principles, his unshaken integrity and irreproachable conduct. 
 It is a matter of regret that he gave a strict injunction that his manu- 
 scripts should be burned immediately after his death ; which injunction 
 was faithfully complied with. No other man in the town was probably so 
 well acquainted as himself with the history of his settlement, and of the 
 early settlers, and of various interesting occurrences. 
 
 Dr. Symmes' publications were a Thanksgiving Sermon, 1768 ; a Dis- 
 course on the Duty and Advantages of Singing Praises to God, 1779 ; and 
 the Sermon at the General Election, 1785. He delivered the Dudleian 
 Lecture in 1786 ; but it was not published. 
 
WILLIAM SYMMES. 37 
 
 He was married, in 1750, to Anna, daughter of the Eev. Joshua Gee, 
 of Boston — she died June 18, 1772. They had five sons and four daugh- 
 ters, all of whom, except his son Daniel, and his daughter Anna, (Mrs. Isaac 
 Cazeneau,) died before him. His second wife was Susannah Powell, who 
 died July, 1807, 'aged seventy-nine. His son Daniel went to the South ; 
 and, after he had been absent several years, a man in apparently sad condi- 
 tion, called on Dr. Symmes, and claimed to be this son. The Doctor 
 rejected him as an impostor. He had obtained some knowledge of the 
 Doctor's family and neighbourhood, and, in consequence of his relating 
 some facts and occurrences in the family, and stating that his appearance 
 had been much altered by sickness and misfortune, some more than half 
 believed that he was really the person he pretended to be. The Doctor 
 put the fellow to board at the house of a, neighbour, that all might be sat- 
 isfied that ho was an impostor. And, after two or three weeks, his object 
 was effected — all became convinced, and he was sent to the County House 
 of Correction. He had endeavoured to impose, in like manner, on a family 
 in a neighbouring town. The affair produced considerable excitement at 
 Andover and was not a little vexatious to Dr. Symmes. 
 
 You have now the substance of not only all that I remember, but all 
 that I have been able to collect, as the result of considerable inquiry, con- 
 cerning this man of another generation. If he did not leave so bold and 
 decided a mark as some others, he commanded universal respect in his day, 
 and exerted an extensive, though comparatively silent, influence. 
 
 I am your affectionate friend, ABIEL ABBOT. 
 
 SAMUEL WEST, D.D., 
 
 (OF NEW BEDFORD.) 
 1761—1807. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN H. MORISON, D. B. 
 
 Milton, Mass., January 29, 1849. 
 Dear Sir: I am happy to send you such an account of Old Father West 
 as I have been able to make up from materials still extant. About eight 
 years ago, being then minister of the Society over which he had been set- 
 tled more than forty years, I gathered all the information that I could from 
 the church records, and from aged people who remembered him. His son's 
 family were so kind as to put into my hands all his papers, and his 
 daughter, since dead, who inherited some of his sterling qualities, related 
 many little incidents, which, though most of them too trifling to be writ- 
 ten down, let me into his domestic character and habits, almost as if I had 
 been myself a member of his household. His church records have been 
 of little assistance to me. They were loosely kept, and mixed up with 
 trivial domestic accounts, — a wedding or a funeral being perhaps set 
 down between the two shillings and six pence which he had paid to a hired 
 man the day when a pig was killed. I met in New Hampshire an aged 
 
38 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 man who told me that he went into Dr. "West's house the evening it had 
 been pillaged by British soldiers. He found the beds ripped open, and 
 the floors covered with feathers, sugar, meal, and other articles. 
 
 But to be more orderly in my narrative — Samuel West, the fourth 
 minister of that part of Dartmouth, which now makes the towns of New 
 Bedford and Fair Haven, was born at Yarmouth, Cape Cod, March 3, 
 1730, (0. S.) ; was graduated at Harvard College, in 1754 ; was ordained 
 June 3, 1761 ; was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from his 
 Alma Mater in 1793 ; withdrew from his ministerial labours in June, 1803, 
 and died at the house of his son in Tiverton, B. I., September 24, 1807. 
 
 His father, Sackfield West, who was a physician, and afterwards one of 
 the most zealous New Lights of his day, removed, soon after Samuel was 
 born, to Barnstable. Here the son laboured as a farmer till he had 
 reached his twentieth year ; but, during that time, exhibited such traits 
 of mind, and especially such a knowledge of the Scriptures, as to attract 
 the attention of the few intelligent men who happened to know him. He 
 was fitted for College in six months, under the care of the Bev. Mr. Green 
 of Barnstable. He had many a severe controversy with his teacher on the 
 doctrine of Necessity, a subject which conLinued to engage his thoughts 
 through life. He went to College in 1750, bare-footed, carrying his shoes 
 and stockings in his hand, and, at the examination, had a dispute with one 
 of the examiners as to a Greek reading, in which he is said to have car- 
 ried his point. He was classmate of Gov. Hancock, and among the most 
 distinguished of his class. 
 
 After leaving College, he devoted himself to almost every branch of 
 science, though Theology was his principal study. History and politics, 
 the physical sciences and metaphysics, medicine and law, were all subjects 
 on which he was glad to improve every opportunity of gaining informa- 
 tion ; and the consequence was, that, though living in an obscure place, 
 with few appliances of learning within his reach, and none to sympathize 
 with him in his pursuits, he proved himself, in vigour and exactness of 
 thought, and in the variety and extent of the subjects which he mastered, 
 inferior to very few men of his time. 
 
 He was settled in 17G1, on a salary of sixty-six pounds, thirteen shil- 
 lings and sixpence. Besides this, seventeen members of the precinct 
 bound themselves to provide " the keeping one horse, and two cows, 
 winters and summers, as they ought to be kept." But the salary was not 
 paid. In 1779, his circumstances were " so deplorable as to demand im- 
 mediate relief," and a committee was appointed by the precinct to procure 
 fire wood and corn for his family. In 1788, he represents the Society as 
 owing him seven hundred and sixty-nine pounds, twelve shillings and 
 eleven pence, and urges the payment of it — " My reasons for this request," 
 he says, "are, First, I owe money upon interest which I cannot pay until 
 the money due to me be collected in. Secondly, I have suffered greatly 
 for the necessaries of life, especially in the article of clothing ; for which 
 I have been beholden to money obtained from another quarter." These 
 embarrassments were somewhat relieved by a small patrimony, and by the 
 kindness of his friends abroad, of whom no one showed a warmer interest 
 in all that concerned him, or a greater readiness to relieve him, than 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 39 
 
 Samuel Eliot of Boston, whose sympathy and aid were so liberally ex- 
 tended to the clergymen of New England at that critical time. In one of 
 his letters to Dr. West, after speaking of " a bundle containing cloth and 
 trimmings for a suit of clothes complete, together with one piece of yard 
 wide linen," he says, " I pray God to give you better days and happier 
 prospects. One consolation, however, my good Sir, remains with you, — 
 that though your present scene is dark and gloomy, your future views are 
 bright and luminous. The dawn of celestial day will soon open upon 
 you." Such a letter, even more than the gift, must have served to 
 strengthen and eucourage one who was labouring under circumstances so 
 depressing. Among his own Society he could have found little intellec- 
 tual sympathy. They were a plain, industrious, uneducated people. A 
 good woman, now living, and nearly a hundred years old, tells me that she 
 remembers his visiting at the house where she was, when she was quite 
 young. For tea, baked apples and bread were crumbled into a large pan 
 of milk at the centre of the table, and Dr. West and the grown up mem- 
 bers of the household all ate together from the same vessel, — the Doctor 
 exhibiting no improper squeamishness at the mode of procedure, but, as a 
 faithful Pastor should, setting an edifying example of active diligence. 
 
 Dr. West was twice married ; — first, on the 7th of March, 1768, to Ex- 
 perience, daughter of Cousider Howland, — who became the mother of six 
 children, and died March 6, 1789 ; and again, on the 20th of January, 
 1790, to Lovisa, widow of Benjamin Jenne, and daughter of Jacob 
 Hathaway, of Dartmouth, who died March 18, 1797. There were no 
 children by the second marriage. One of his sons, Samuel, was settled 
 as a physician at Tiverton, Pi. I., and held a very high rank in his 
 profession. 
 
 Both Dr. West's wives were women of uncommon excellence ; and, if 
 they knew little of the subjects that most engaged his thoughts, they 
 knew better than he bow to lengthen out the shortcomings of his income 
 into the means of a comfortable support. His first wife was a tall woman ; 
 and, in reference to that and in connection with her Christian name he 
 used to say that he had "learned from long Experience that it was a good 
 thing to be married." 
 
 From the beginning of our difficulties with the mother country .Dr. West 
 was an ardent patriot. He could keep no terms with those who were hesi- 
 tating or lukewarm, but blazed out against them. And he did not confine 
 himself to the expression of his opinions in his own quiet home. Imme- 
 diately after the battle at Bunker's Hill, he set out to join the American 
 AJmy, and do what he might as a minister of G-od, to keep up their cour- 
 age. He remained there several months as a Chaplain. From the camp, 
 while exposed to the enemy's artillery, he wrote to his wife with as much 
 composure as he would in hi* own study. It was while in the army, as a 
 Chaplain, that he gained great notoriety by deciphering for General Wash- 
 ington a treasonable letter from Dr. Church to an officer in the British 
 Army, of which a full account may be found in the third volume of Sparks' 
 Writings of Washington, pp. 502-6. In 1776, he delivered a Discourse 
 (afterwards printed) before the Provincial Convention at Watertown, and 
 in December, 1777, he delivered the Anniversary Sermon at Plymouth. 
 
40 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 All his learning, -which was great, and his religious enthusiasm, were em- 
 ployed in behalf of his country. In times of the greatest darkness, he 
 roused the spirits of the people by showing that in the very events, which 
 threw such a gloom over the country, was the beginning of the fulfilment 
 of ancient prophecies, which must eventually lead on to their deliverance. 
 Before the War began, he, from the Scriptures, predicted these more try- 
 ing times, and, from the faithful accomplishment of those predictions in 
 the darkest hour, he looked forward almost with exultation to the glorious 
 fulfilment of what yet remained, when this country, then so harassed by 
 war, should, to use his own words, "be the place to which the persecuted 
 in other nations shall flee from the tyranny of their oppressors, and our 
 Zion shall become the delight and praise of the whole earth." When we 
 remember that no person in New England had such a reputation for a pro- 
 found acquaintance with the prophetical writings, we may form some idea 
 of the influence of these sentiments, by which our people were led to view 
 themselves as instruments of the Almighty in the accomplishment of events, 
 predicted by his holy prophets, thousands of years before. He must have 
 read the history of man with a careless eye, who does not see that, in a 
 great national crisis like that, such an appeal to the Lord of hosts, and to 
 his promises, is the strongest appeal that can be made to the human heart. 
 
 Father West, as he was always called at that time, was an influential 
 member of the Convention that formed the Constitution of the State of 
 Massachusetts, and also of the Convention for the adoption of the Consti- 
 tution of the United States ; and in this latter Convention it was in no 
 small measure, through his personal influence with Governor Hancock, 
 that that distinguished man was persuaded to give his assent to the adop- 
 tion of the Federal Constitution. An interesting account of this whole mat- 
 ter I have received in a letter from the Hon. Francis Baylies, the able histo- 
 rian of the Plymouth Colony, to my friend the Hon. John H. Clifford, of New 
 Bedford, from which the following account, slightly condensed, is taken : — 
 
 " The fate of the Constitution in the Convention was doubtful, when 
 Governor Hancock, without whose aid it certainly could not be adopted, 
 was seized with his constitutional disorder, the gout, and, withdrawing from 
 the chair, took to his bed. The friends of the Constitution were convinced 
 of the necessity of getting him out. Dr. West was selected as the person 
 most likely to influence him. He repaired to his house, and, after a long 
 condolence on the subject of his bodily complaints, he expressed his deep 
 regrets that this affliction should have come upon him at a moment when 
 his presence in the Convention seemed almost indispensable. He enlarged 
 upon his vast influence, his many acts of patriotism, his coming forth in 
 former days, at critical periods, to give new energy to the slumbering 
 patriotism of his countrymen, and on the prodigious effect of his name. 
 Heaven, he said, had given him another glorious opportunity, by 
 saving his country, to win imperishable honour to himself. The whole 
 people would follow his footsteps with blessings. The Governor, who 
 knew that Dr. West had always been his sincere and disinterested friend, 
 listened to his suggestions, and made up his mind to appear again in the 
 Convention. Wrapped in his flannels, he took the chair, addressed the 
 Convention, proposed the conciliatory plan suggested by his friend, and 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 41 
 
 the result is known. There is little doubt that Hancock' turned the scale 
 in this State in favour of the Constitution, and in my rnind there is little 
 doubt that Dr. West induced him to do it. 
 
 " During the session of the Convention Dr. West spent many of his 
 evenings abroad. He generally returned with his pockets filled with fine 
 handkerchiefs, silk stockings, silk gloves, small pieces of cambric, and many 
 other articles which could, without attracting attention, be slipped into 
 his pocket. His distress, on discovering them, was ludicrous ; for, aware of 
 his absence of mind, he supposed that he might have taken these articles 
 unconsciously, and without the consent of the owners, but his fellow- 
 boarders generally contrived to convince him that they were designed as 
 presents — which was the truth." 
 
 " I well remember," continues Mr. Baylies, " the effect which the oddity 
 of his manners produced; but I was too young to appreciate the force and 
 originality of his conversation. Separate from metaphysics and theology, 
 he was a great man, and his great and universal knowledge, notwithstand- 
 ing his eccentricity and roughness, rendered his conversation always agree- 
 able, and sometimes delightful." 
 
 Dr. West watched the progress of the French Revolution with extreme 
 jealousy. Nothing more roused his indignation than to find the young in 
 any way countenancing the licentious doctrines which were then gaining 
 currency. An anecdote illustrative of this has been told me by a strong- 
 minded excellent man, who was then young and recently married. Know- 
 ing that Dr. West was to spend the Sabbath evening at his father's, and 
 feeling confident of his own strength, he determined to encounter him. 
 He began by some remarks on contracts, stating that he considered a con- 
 tract annulled when its conditions were fulfilled, and that no contract 
 could be perpetually binding. To illustrate this, he mentioned the contract 
 of marriage. Here the old man interrupted him by a low growl, but he 
 went on with his argument to show that the marriage contract might easily 
 be ,dissolved. " Ugh," growled the Doctor, in a hoarse gruff voice, 
 "Ugh, a great many people think so now-a-days." The young man still 
 persevered till the Doctor, able to bear it no longer, burst upon him in a 
 strain of indignant eloquence, pouring out passages of Scripture in a tor- 
 rent, urging the authority of distinguished writers, the example of govern- 
 ments, the arguments to be drawn from reason, from the principles of 
 natural religion and morality, and ending with this emphatic declaration, 
 — " So sacred among all Christian nations has been this connection, that, 
 when marriage has been solemnized without the consent of the parents, 
 and the parties have been immediately pursued, if once the contract has 
 been sealed, not all the kings, and governments, and authorities in the 
 world, can dissolve the union." My friend added that, after this experi- 
 ment, he had no disposition to measure his strength again with his minister. 
 
 Dr. West began his ministry at a period of religious excitement, such 
 as our country never before had witnessed. Many, without learning, 
 without fixed principles, or any habits of thought, were led on by a sort 
 of religious frenzy to propose doctrines and measures by which, in the 
 extravagance of inward illuminations, the authority of reason and the 
 Scriptures, of civil government and ecclesiastical forms, should be dis- 
 
42 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 pensed with.* There was undoubtedly much that was lifeless in out 
 churches, or such a series of events could not have been — it is only the 
 dryness of the prairie that gives fury to the flames. But whatever we 
 may think of the cause or the effect, such was the state of things when 
 Dr. West was ordained. He was surrounded by new and wandering lights. 
 A Society of them was formed within his own precinct. His father was 
 carried away by the general feeling, and preached, writing hymns, ser- 
 mons, and letters, with the fiery vehemence of a young convert. » I 
 wish," he said in a letter, "that I could preach these doctrines to your 
 own people." But the son did not invite him into his pulpit, and the rules 
 which he then laid down for the way in which the Gospel is to be 
 preached, although specially intended for the times, as they then were, are 
 hardly less applicable now. " The style of preaching," he tells us, " must 
 be simple, not abounding in those pompous, high flown metaphors, which, 
 under the appearance of containing some very sublime mysteries and pro- 
 found sense, are only a jingle or play of words." '■ This is the common 
 fault of enthusiasts, arid men of too warm an imagination, who, fancying 
 to themselves that they have frequent communion and fellowship with God, 
 imagine their understandings are illuminated far beyond the rest of man- 
 kind. This prompts them to use the mystical language which they mistake 
 for good sense and sublime theology." 
 
 Then, as now, there were those who, from an exclusive rationalism, 
 rejected the peculiar doctrines of Christianity ; while, on the other h,and, 
 were the exclusive religious zealots, who, in the fervour of their devotions, 
 forgot the duties of a Christian life, and would entirely divorce faith from 
 reason, and piety from virtue. In reference to these he says,- — " To preach 
 Christ is to preach the whole system of Divinity, as it consists of both 
 Natural and Revealed Religion." " Has the preacher discharged his duty 
 that takes no care to show his people the obligation they lie under to live 
 sober, righteous and godly lives ; or that has never explained and insisted 
 upon the several branches of social virtue and benevolence?" ' On the 
 other hand, can any one think that he has faithfully discharged the trust 
 reposed in him, who insi-ts altogether on what is called Natural Religion, 
 without ever mentioning the peculiar doctrines of Revelation? Why 
 should we separate what God has joined together? Can we expect that 
 sinners should ever return to God with all their hearts, unless we show 
 them the necessity of Divine grace in order thereunto? Can any say 
 that there is any absurdity in supposing that the Divine Being may 
 strengthen and support our faculties in the search of truth, that he may 
 impress upon our minds a lively sense of Divine things, excite us to piety 
 and dissuade us from sin ?" "Where doctrines of mere Natural Religion 
 are insisted on to the neglect of the peculiar doctrines of Revelation, we 
 can at most expect to find only a few fashionable, civil gentlemen, but 
 destitute of real piety. As, on the other hand, where the distinguishing 
 doctrines of Christianity alone are insisted upon, we shall find that men 
 are very apt to run into enthusiasm. A true Gospel minister should seek 
 to avoid both these extremes. When he insists on moral virtues, he should 
 enforce them on Christian motives. He should preach up the perfections 
 
 * See Miller's life of Jonathan Edwards, .p. 85. 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 43 
 
 of God to regulate our devotion ; the doctrine of atonement and regenera- 
 tion to bring us to Christ, and social virtues as the effects of a Christian 
 temper." 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. West was distinguished for great strength of mind, 
 and what seemed a complete mastery of the difficult subjects which he was 
 in the habit of bringing into the pulpit. He was a man of profound 
 thought and learning, but the enthusiasm of his life was spent on subjects 
 which, however interesting to the speculative inquirer, have little to do 
 with the practical concerns of life. 
 
 The first great subject to which he devoted himself was the Ancient 
 Prophecies. His writings on the fulfilment of the Prophecies had a great 
 influence. I have spoken of them in connection with our Revolutionary 
 struggle. The strong minds of that day rejoiced to hear him explain the 
 hidden meaning of those mysterious writings, and show, with a singular 
 union of ingenuity and learning, how they had been fulfilled in times past, 
 how they were then revealing themselves in the remarkable events of the 
 day, and how they should at length break forth into the full glory of the 
 Millennium, when Christ should reign a thousand years upon the earth. 
 And there is often a curious coincidence between his predictions and events 
 which took place after his death. As an example from Daniel XI, 44 and 
 Ezekiel xxxviii, 2, he says, (and he came to these conclusions as early 
 as 1777,) "According to these texts, I understand that the Russians are 
 to conquer the Turks : but that previously, the Greeks and many other 
 subjects of the present Turkish Empire will revolt, and put themselves 
 under the protection of the Russians, that by their means they may free 
 themselves from the Turkish yoke." He believed that the authority of 
 the Pope should be taken from him in 1813 ; that ministers of the Gos- 
 pel were to be sent through all the earth ; that, through the remarkable 
 judgments of God, a great Religious Reformation, should take place, and 
 then the sounding of the seventh trumpet would be at hand. " When that 
 period shall come," he says, "time only can decide." To one who reli- 
 giously believes in their truth, as he did, there is something awfully sublime 
 in investigations like these, which lift up the veil of futurity, and disclose 
 the mighty revolutions which lie there, waiting the time which has been 
 assigned to them in the counsels of the Almighty. 
 
 The great work of Jonathan Edwards on the Freedom of the Will had 
 been published some years when Dr. West was ordained, and from that 
 day to this has had an influence on the Theology of New England, such as 
 can be attributed to no other work. To the doctrines of this work Dr. 
 West never could assent. He believed that there was a self-determining 
 power in man. In opposition to Edwards, he wrote two remarkable 
 pamphlets, in which he argues from the Scriptures, the character of God, 
 from reason itself and the moral accountability of man. Whether he 
 goes to the bottom of that most difficult of subjects, and fully meets the 
 argument which Dugald Stewart says no man can answer or admit, may be 
 questioned. The first pamphlet was published in 1793, the substance of 
 the first part of it having been " penned about twenty years." This being 
 soon out of print, he republished it in 1795, together with a second part, 
 containing four essays more. The work was answered by Dr. Edwards of 
 
44 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Connecticut, who acknowledged Dr. "West to be the ablest writer that had. 
 appeared on that side of the subject. 
 
 These studies must have had great influence on Dr. West's preaching. 
 His metaphysical investigations must have coloured all his thoughts. He 
 usually preached without notes, and was always prepared. Once, when in 
 Boston, during the latter part of his life, he was invited by Dr. Clarke, of 
 the First Church, to preach for him. About an hour before the services 
 were to commence, Father "West requested his friend to give him a text. 
 At this Dr. Clarke was alarmed, and asked if it were possible that he 
 was going to preach without notes, aVd with no other preparation. " Come, 
 come," said Father West, "it is my way, give me a text." Dr. Clarke 
 selected Komans, xiv. 22. " What if God, willing to show his wrath, 
 and make his power known, endured with much long-suffering the vessels 
 of wrath fitted to destruction." Dr. West looked over the Bible a few 
 minutes, turning down leaves here and there, and then went into the 
 church, where he preached a cogent, logical discourse an hour and twenty 
 minutes long, on that perplexing subject. The strong men of the congre- 
 gation were intensely interested, and Dr. Clarke, on coming from the pul- 
 pit, exclaimed, " Why, Father West, it would have taken me three months 
 to prepare such a discourse." " Ha, ha, ha," was the reply, " and I have 
 been studying it out twenty years." 
 
 Alchemy was another subject that greatly interested Dr. West. He 
 had particularly a taste for the Natural Sciences, and Alchemy was to him 
 only the last analysis in Chemistry. It was the opinion of Sir Humphrey 
 Davy that diamonds might, at some time, be manufactured by a chemical 
 process, and it is only following the same reasoning to suppose that gold 
 may be resolved into elements more simple, and be reconstructed from 
 those elements, as found in less precious substances. There is no absurdity 
 in such an idea. Dr. Danforth, of Boston, and Dr. Whitridge, of Tiver- 
 ton, B. I., both able physicians, had become deeply interested in the sub- 
 ject as a matter of speculative inquiry, when, about the year 1785, Dr. 
 Whitridge was almost heart-broken by the death of a favourite daughter. 
 As a diversion to his mind, his friends recommended to him to try some 
 experiments in Alchemy. Having once begun, he went on with untiring 
 zeal. I have seen the correspondence on the subject between him and Dr. 
 West, but it is in characters, and a language so cabalistic as to be almost 
 entirely unintelligible. For years Dr. West and Dr. Danforth afforded 
 to him all the encouragement and assistance they could. At last their 
 hopes gave out, and they endeavoured to dissuade him from further experi- 
 ments. But nothing could divert him from it. It was the passion of his 
 life. He was indeed a devoted parent and friend. He entered deeply into 
 other branches of knowledge. He sympathized with Dr. West in his meta- 
 physical studies, and, after he was fifty years old, studied. Hebrew solely 
 that he might better understand the Scriptures. But his heart, his 
 strength, and his fortune were given to his laboratory. When away from 
 home he was impatient to return, always supposing that, during his absence, 
 the critical moment might have come. His countenance and general 
 demeanour bore marks of a life devoted to something apart from the ordi- 
 nary pursuits of man. For forty years the fires of his furnace were never 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 45 
 
 permitted to go out, and the last words he uttered on his death bed were 
 to give some further directions respecting the process. A few years ago I 
 visited the laboratory, which remained nearly as he had left it, and, as I 
 looked on rafters, retorts, and crucibles stained with smoke, and remem- 
 bered that this was all that remained from the unremitted labours, anxious 
 thought, and enthusiasm of so many years, I could not but think of other 
 scenes of human toil and ambition. 
 
 Dr. West was always on terms of intimacy with Dr. Whitridge, and 
 there frequently met Dr. Hopkins of Newport. It is not often that three 
 such men are brought together. They usually spent nearly the whole 
 night in conversation. Dr. Hopkins sometimes required a little sleep, but 
 the morning light not unfrequently found the others still up. On one 
 occasion, Dr. West having mounted his horse a little before night, Dr. Whit- 
 ridge went out bare-headed to see him off. A new topic was started. The 
 horse walked on a few steps and stopped ; then a few steps more, the 
 friends being still earnestly engaged. At last they were alarmed by the 
 appearance of a fire in the East, which, after a short time, they found was 
 the break of day. We cannot but look with respect upon conversations on 
 great subjects carried on with such an entire abstraction from the outward 
 world. 
 
 Dr. West, before our Revolution, thought he discovered in the Sacred 
 Prophecies a prediction of remarkable events relating to his own country. 
 He went to the camp, like a brave man, as he was. The village of the 
 town in which he lived was plundered and burned. His own house was 
 pillaged by hostile soldiers. But he could retreat from all these things 
 into a world more attractive, or find them invested with a solemn and 
 almost supernatural interest, as he saw in them the hand of God bringing 
 out what ages before had been foretold. 
 
 His friends would sometimes meet him on his horse, which had perhaps 
 stopped to feed by the roadside, the bridle loose, his hands folded on his 
 breast, and he taking no notice of them. He would sometimes follow the 
 young men who were studying Theology with him, to their bed-chamber, 
 and remain discoursing to them nearly the whole night. Once he went out 
 to drive a cow from his yard, and, striking at her with a long board, missed 
 the eow, but was himself brought to the ground by the weight of the 
 board, and tore his small clothes through nearly the whole length of the 
 leg. He knew nothing of this, but, gathering himself up, and forgetting 
 entirely where he was, went on without a hat three miles, when he entered 
 a friend's house, and passed the night talking with him, to the consterna- 
 tion of his wife, when, on his return, she saw in what a plight he was for a 
 visit to one of the most genteel families in the parish. He once met a 
 friend and told him that he and his wife were on their way to pay him a 
 visit. " Your wife," said his friend, "where is she?" "Why," replied 
 the Doctor, " I thought she was on the pillion behind me." She had got 
 ready to accompany him, but was left. He would sometimes, at the meet- 
 ing-house, stop at the horse-bloek for his wife to dismount, when she had 
 been forgotten and was still at home. Once, he went to mill, leading his 
 horse, and carrying the grist on his own shoulder. On being asked by a 
 friend in Boston if this were true, he said with a laugh that it was too 
 
46 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 good a story to be spoiled, and so he should not contradict it. I have 
 been told by one who saw him on his way, that, when, before his second 
 marriage, he went to ask the town-clerk to publish him, he led his horse 
 the whole distance, passing directly by the house of the town-clerk, and 
 not halting till he was brought up by the log at the end of the wharf. 
 
 The following story was told me by his daughter, and is unquestionably 
 true. He had gone to Boston, and, a violent shower coming up on Satur- 
 day afternoon, he did not get home that evening, as was expected. The 
 next morning his family were very anxious, and waited till, just at the 
 last moment, he was seen hurrying his horse on with muddy ruffles 
 dangling about his hands, and another large ruffle hanging out upon his 
 bosom, through the open vest which he usually had buttoned close to his 
 chin. He never had worn such embellishments before, and never after- 
 wards could tell how he came by them then. It was too late to change — 
 the congregation were waiting. His daughter buttoned up his vest, so as 
 to hide the bosom ornaments entirely, and carefully tucked the ruffles in 
 about the wrists. During the opening services all went very well. But 
 probably feeling uneasy about the wrists, he twitched at them till the 
 ruffles were flourishing about, and then, growing warm as he advanced, he 
 opened his vest, and made such an exhibition of muddy finery as probably 
 tended very little to the religious edification of the younger portion of his 
 audience. " That," said his daughter, in telling the story, " was the only 
 time that I was ever ashamed of my father." 
 
 This is perhaps as good a place as any to tell an anecdote which has 
 
 often been applied to other persons, but which the late Judge Davis of 
 
 Boston, an admirable authority in such matters, says was true in the case 
 
 of Dr. "West. There had been difficulty with the singers, and they had 
 
 given out that they should not sing on the next Sunday. This was told to 
 
 Dr. West. " Well, well, we will see," he said, and, on Sunday morning, 
 
 gave out his hymn. After reading it, he said very emphatically, "You 
 
 will begin with the second verse : — 
 
 " Let those refuse to sing 
 
 " Who never knew our God.." 
 
 The hymn was sung. 
 
 He was the friend and associate of President Stiles, Robert Treat 
 Paine and Simeon Howard. A letter to him from James Otis, written 
 under a degree of mental depression amounting almost to insanity, shows, 
 by its expressions of gratitude, the real warmth of his feelings. Judge 
 Sullivan wrote to him for assistance in his theological inquiries. Both 
 Dr. Hopkins, of Newport, and Bishop Parker, of the Episcopal Church, 
 differing from him as they did, theologically or ecclesiastically, testified, in 
 different ways, their high respect for his character. 
 
 The usual reverses of age fell heavily on Dr. West. In 1787, he had 
 lost a daughter, and the impression made upon him by her death was 
 never effaced. He had buried two wives, and in the bereavement of his 
 home, had not near him the society of men who could understand or sym- 
 pathize with him in the subjects that most engaged his thoughts. He was 
 imposed upon by a worthless man, who contrived, by actual experiment, to 
 make him believe that he had succeeded in turning salt water into fresh. 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 47 
 
 lie took great pains to interest his friends in Boston in this matter, and 
 it was a heavy blow to his spirits when he found that he had been deceived. 
 He tried to pass it off with a joke. " It requires," he said, " a great mind 
 to make a great mistake." A parishioner, taking advantage of his 
 absence of mind, imposed upon him still more seriously. He had nearly 
 prepared for the press a rejoinder to the work which President Edwards 
 had written in reply to his own, but the public interest was gone, and his 
 friends gave him no encouragement. " These things," he said, " have dis- 
 heartened and destroyed me. I am now to be laid aside as useless. My 
 faculties will go." And so it was. He was more than ever absent-mind- 
 ed. His memory failed, though his intellect, when excited, retained much 
 of its vigour. He had preached the same sermon to his own people three 
 Sabbaths in succession, but no member of his family was willing to distress 
 him by informing him what he had done. The fourth Sabbath, his daugh- 
 ter saw with a heavy heart that he had his Bible open at the same place — 
 the Parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Fortunately he left the room 
 for a minute. She opened the Bible at another place, and put it back 
 with the leaves turned down just as he had left them in his place. When 
 he took up the book m his return, he seemed for a moment lost, then fixed 
 himself upon the passage to which she had opened, and from that preached 
 a discourse, which, to some of his people, seemed the ablest that he had 
 given for years. 
 
 But the time had come when he was to be released from his parish 
 labours. There is, to my mind, something affecting in the following paper, — 
 the last that he drew up for his people. " Proposals to the Precinct : Fir.st, 
 that they give me the use of the precinct land during my natural life ; Sec- 
 ondly, that they give me hay sufficient for the keeping of a cow and hor.se ; 
 Thirdly, that they supply me with firewood sufficient for my family, winter 
 and summer; Fourthly, that they supply me with Indian corn and rye suf- 
 ficient for my family ; Fifthly, that they supply me with beef and pork suffi- 
 cient for my family, winter and summer ; Sixthly, that they supply me with 
 wool and flax sufficient to clothe my family. If the Preciuct are not will- 
 ing to comply with these proposals, why then, that the whole affair be left 
 to the decision of an Ecclesiastical Council of ministers and delegates. 
 From your aged Pastor, Sajiuel West." 
 
 The terms of a friendly separation were agreed upon, and he withdrew 
 from his labours in June, 1803. His last days were spent with his son in 
 Tiverton. The account of them shall be given in the words of one who had 
 studied with him, and who loved him as a father, — Kev. Dr. Allyn, of Dux- 
 bury. >' His memory failed to that degree that it was with difficulty he 
 could recognize his most familiar friends. The vast treasure of his ideas 
 began to vanish at the age of seventy years, and, during the course of the 
 seven succeeding, years, the great man disappeared, and it was an afflictive 
 sight to his friends, and all who had. known him in the glory of his under- 
 standing, to perceive he had survived all his wit and learning." But his 
 sun, if dimly shining, went down with great serenity, as in an autumnal haze. 
 At the house of his son, a beloved physician, who now also rests from his 
 labours, on Thursday morning, at half-past five o'clock, September 24, 
 1807, the aged father and servant of God breathed his last. The body 
 
48 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 was brought to New Bedford to the church in which, for nearly Lalf a cen- 
 tury, he had broken the bread of life, and there, after a Funeral Dis- 
 course, by his old and faithful friend, Jonathan Moore,* of Rochester, 
 was placed in the burying ground, amid the relics of those whom he had 
 so often met in the house of prayer. 
 
 The following I believe to be a correct list of Dr. West's publications: — 
 A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Samuel TVest, at Xeedham, 
 1764. A Sermon preached before the Provincial Convention, at TUater- 
 town, 1776. A Sermon preached on the day of the General Election, 
 1776. A Sermon preached on the Anniversary of the Landing of the 
 Fathers at Plymouth, 1777. A Sermon at the Ordination of John Allyn. 
 at Duxbury, 1788. Essays on Liberty and Necessity; in which the True 
 Nature of Liberty is stated and defended, and the Principal Arguments, 
 used by Mr. Edwards and others, for Necessity are considered — In two 
 Parts — the first printed in 1793, the second in 1795. A Tract on In fin t 
 Baptism. I am very truly yours, 
 
 J. H. MORISON. 
 
 FROM SAMUEL TTEST, M. D;. 
 
 Tivektos, K. I., ilarch 26, 1849. 
 
 Dear Sir: In a manuscript memoir of my grandfather, I find the following 
 statements which may perhaps prove acceptable to you.. — namely, "that, at 
 seven years of age, he was perfectly possessed of the historical parts of the 
 Bible, and often proposed questions about their meaning; that, at the age of 
 ten, he obtained a copy of Dilworth's Spelling Book, and became expert in 
 English orthography, and would often correct others in their spelling and pro- 
 nunciation; that he constantly attended the preaching of the Bev. Mr. Green, 
 and, at twelve years of age, could repeat a great part of the sermon he had 
 heard at meeting." 
 
 I may add that he was a man of uncommon physical powers, and, while 
 others would tell of his gymnastic feats, he was never fond of having them 
 related, esteeming the intellectual far above the physical, and, like nearly all 
 at that day and too many at the present, he neglected those requirements 
 whereby the years of the intellectual man might have been much prolonged, 
 had the laws governing the tenement it possessed been well attended to. Being 
 a man of giant frame, (six feet high and weighing upwards of two hundred 
 pounds,) the immediate offspring of the Puritans, he lived on to seventy 
 years, neglecting the laws of his physical well-being with apparent impunity, 
 so far as his bodily health was concerned, but his mind was evidently on the 
 wane, and soon both body and mind were tottering together to decay. Now, 
 had his mental existence been less intense, and some thought been bestowed 
 on the tenement through which this existence must be manifested, he might no 
 doubt have added some ten or fifteen years to his usefulness. But the purity 
 of the habits of the people in those times took from the necessity of attending 
 to such matters; and if a person early became decrepit, either in his bodily 
 organs or in his mental faculties, it was regarded merely as a dispensation 
 of Providence, and acquiesced in as such. They did not then realize that on 
 the individual rests the responsibility not only of his corporeal but also his 
 
 * Jonathan" Mooee was bom at Oxford, Mass. ; Tvas graduated at Harvard College in 1761 : 
 was ordained, and installed as Pastor of the Church in Rochester, Mass., September 15, 176a; 
 was dismissed December '22. 17S1 ; and died in lSli. aged seventy-five. 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 49 
 
 mental well being; for insanity and other diseases that maybe hereditary, 
 are but the consequence of disobedience by our ancestors to the physical laws. 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, 
 
 Your obed't servant, 
 
 SAMUEL WEST. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CHARLES LOWELL. D. D. 
 
 Elmwood, April 8, 1847. 
 
 My dear friend : I understood you to say that you intended to include among 
 your biographical notices of departed worthies, some account of that wonder- 
 fully eccentric, but highly gifted and excellent man, Dr. Samuel West, of New 
 Bedford. I cannot claim to have been intimately acquainted with him, though 
 I used to see him occasionally, especially on his visits to Dr. Sanger, at 
 Bridgewater, while I lived with him, fitting for College. Though his exterior 
 was by no means impressive, he was undoubtedly, for intellectual power and 
 acumen, one of the giants of his time. One of his most remarkable charac- 
 teristics was absence of mind — whatever subject might happen to occupy his 
 thoughts, he would often become so entirely absorbed in it, that his con- 
 sciousness of passing events would seem entirely suspended. I happen to 
 have beeen personally cognizant of one or two of his experiences of this kind, 
 which were too ludicrous ever to escape from my memory. 
 
 Dr. West (his soubriquet was Pater} used to make an annual journey, on 
 horseback, to Boston, to attend the Convention of Congregational Ministers, 
 and see his friends; and not unfrequently at other times also; and on one 
 occasion, when he had arrived at a certain turn of the road in Bridgewater, 
 though he was perfectly familiar with the whole way, he rode back a quarter 
 of a mile to inquire at a house which was the road to Boston. 
 
 In those days it was the custom for ministers, when travelling, to refresh 
 themselves and their beasts at the residences of such of their brethren as lived 
 on their route. One day, while I was living with Dr. Sanger, a horse, sad- 
 dled and bridled, came running into the yard, and one of the family exclaimed 
 " That is Dr. West's horse; the Doctor must be on the road, and we must go 
 back and look for him." One or two of the boys, accordingly, mounted the 
 horse, and rode towards New Bedford. After a while, they saw a dark object 
 in the middle of the sandy road, at some distance beyond them. On arriving 
 at the spot, they found it was Dr. West, sitting in the middle of the road, 
 apparently in deep thought, and taking no notice of any thing about him. 
 " Why Dr. West, is this you?" was the inquiry — " how came you here in the 
 road?" " Yes, I suppose it is I; and I believe the beast has thrown me," 
 was the reply. He was assisted on to the horse, and conveyed to Dr. Sanger's, 
 where he staid, as was his wont on his calls, a good many days, exhibiting, 
 every now and then, his fits of absence of mind, to the no small amusement 
 of us lads, and indeed of all who witnessed them. 
 
 It might have been on this visit to Boston that a circumstance occurred that 
 was related to me by Dr. Porter of Roxbury. On a very rainy day, one of 
 Dr. P's parishioners came in and told him that there was an elderly gentleman, 
 apparently a clergyman, sitting on the steps of the meeting-house, and he 
 thought it was proper for him to inform the Doctor of it, that, if he saw fit, 
 he might ascertain who he was. Dr. Porter, on arriving at the meeting-house, 
 recognized Dr. West as the minister who had seated himself there, and 
 expressed no small surprise at finding him in such circumstances. " Why," 
 said Dr. West, << I have a controversy, as I suppose you know, with another 
 man of my name in Stockbridge, who has lately sent out a new pamphlet, and 
 I have come down here to consult some books; and having got as far as here 
 Vol. VIII. 4 
 
50 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 I remembered that my people had not had any preaching for three weeks, and 
 I sat down here to think the matter over, whether I had better go on to con- 
 sult the library at Cambridge, or go home to New Bedford." You can just 
 as well think about that by my fireside," said Dr. Porter,*" and had better 
 go into my house and determine it there." " "Well, well, so I had, I believe." 
 So in he went, staid there some days, determined to go to Cambridge, not- 
 withstanding his people had been without preaching for three Sabbaths; and 
 when he got back to resume his labours among them I never learned. 
 
 Now that I have a cacoethes scribendi, you must allow me to indulge n^self 
 in putting down a few more incidents, illustrative of the peculiarities of one 
 or two other truly excellent and respectable ministers. Br. Barnes of Scituate, 
 a little man, with a very neat white whig, was called to officiate at the Funeral 
 of a female who had no near friends to mourn for her, except one young man 
 who was an adopted son; and he began his prayer on thiswise — "Strange 
 kind of Funeral this, Lord, very strange! No father, no mother, no brother 
 nor sister! There's a young man " (suiting the action to the word) " that 
 calls her mother." At an Ordination, I heard him commence his prayer 
 thus: — <<Oh Lord, thou knowest that it is ordination day, &c." Dr. Barnes 
 was a man of deep feeling, however-, as is evinced by his most pathetic and 
 beautiful sermon on the death of his daughter. 
 
 Dr. John Lathrop, of Boston, related to me the following anecdote of Dr. 
 Samuel Mather, whom he knew well, being a member of the same Ministerial 
 Association with him for many years : — At a certain meeting of the Association, 
 Dr. Mather talked nearly the whole time; and, when the members were about 
 to disperse, the Doctor said very emphatically, — " Well, Brethren, I don't 
 remember that I ever knew a pleasanter meeting of the Association than this." 
 I understood the anecdote as pointing to the prominent infirmity in Dr. 
 Mather's character. 
 
 What I have written must suffice for the present, and I will only add that 
 
 I am yours affectionately, 
 
 CHARLES LOWELL. 
 
 SAMUEL WEST, D. D * 
 
 (OF BOSTON.) 
 
 1761—1808. 
 
 Samuel West was descended from Francis West, who was sent to this 
 country by the British Government with a commission of Vice Admiral, 
 shortly after the settlement at Plymouth, and took up a large tract of 
 land in what is now Duxbury. He returned to England ; but his son came 
 over and took possession of the land ; and from him all the Wests in New 
 England are descended. One branch of the family settled in Martha's 
 Vineyard. Thomas West, of the fifth generation from the first, was the 
 son of Abner West, and the father of Samuel, the subject of this sketch. 
 He entered Harvard College in 1726 ; but, in consequence of a matrimon- 
 ial engagement, left College at the end of two years, and gave up the idea 
 
 * Ms. Autobiography. — Biographical Sketch by the Rev. Thomas Thacher. 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 51 
 
 of ever entering on professional life ; and lie did not receive his degree 
 until 1759, twenty-nine years after the graduation of his class. At the 
 ago of about thirty-five, he commenced the study of Divinity, under the 
 direction of the Rev. Experience Mayhew, the well known missionary 
 among the Indians on Martha's Vineyard. Soon after he began to preach, 
 he was settled as colleague of Mr. Mayhew, in which situation he continued 
 five or six years, and then accepted an invitation to take charge of a small 
 parish, known as the third parish in Rochester. Herehe spent the residue 
 of his days, and died in the year 1790. In his religious opinions he was, 
 according to the testimony of his son, a decided Calvinist. 
 
 Samuel West, the son of Thomas, was born at Martha's Vineyard, 
 November 19, (0. S.,) 1738, and spent his early years in hard labour. 
 When he was in his seventeenth year, he commenced the study of the lan- 
 guages, under the tuition of his father, who had a good deal to do in order 
 to recover his own knowledge sufficiently to teach him. As his father was 
 poor, and found it somewhat difficult to support his family, he did not 
 originally design to give him u, collegiate education ; but such was his 
 thirst for knowledge, and his ability to acquire it, that his father finally 
 yielded to his wish to go to College. After encountering many obsta- 
 cles, during a preparatory course of about two years, he was well fitted to 
 enter ; and he was accordingly admitted a member of Harvard University, 
 at an advanced standing, in 1758, when he was in his twentieth year. With 
 the aid that he received from his father, in connection with some favours 
 granted him by President Holyoke, and the avails of teaching during some 
 of his vacations, he was enabled to pass through College without much 
 embarrassment ; and he graduated with high honour in 1761. He main, 
 tained uniformly a good standing in all his studies, but he delighted especially 
 in metaphysics and logic. His health suffered not a little from excessive 
 application to study and neglect of bodily exercise ; and nervous complaints 
 ensued, which occasioned him great trouble and inconvenience during the 
 rest of his life. 
 
 Mr. West had his eye upon the ministry from the time that he began to 
 prepare for College ; and he seems to have commenced preaching very soon 
 after he graduated. The Hon. Thomas Hubbard, Commissary of the Pro. 
 vince, became his patron; and, through his influence, he was appointed 
 Chaplain to the garrison of Port Pownal, at Penobscot. Though he felt 
 that his preparation for the ministry was very inadequate, yet, as he had 
 a few sermons written, and as Dr. Mayhew lent him a number of books, and 
 Mr. Hubbard promised him others, and as he had really been, in some sense, 
 a student of Divinity from very early life, he determined, though with great 
 diffidence, to accept the appointment. His engagement was for one year, 
 and his pay was four pounds a month, with rations. He, accordingly, 
 repaired to his field of labour in November, 1761 ; and found himself very 
 agreeably situated in the family of Brigadier General Preble. He passed 
 the year very pleasantly and profitably, — the discharge of his official duties 
 leaving him with a good deal of leisure to prosecute his theological studies ; 
 and, as this was subseqent to the reduction of Canada, they had nothing 
 to fear from the hostilities of the Indians. The term for which he engaged 
 having expired in September, 1762, he returned to visit his parents ; and, 
 
52 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 after remaining with them a short time, went back to Falmouth, in the 
 expectation of being employed by a parish called New Cases, whose min. 
 ister had become deranged. After preaching there ten weeks, he left that 
 region finally ; and on reaching home, found his mother in a declining state 
 of health, from which time he remained with her several months, until she 
 died. 
 
 Mr. West now went to Cambridge, with a view to devote more time to 
 theological studies. During his residence there, he preached frequently 
 for the ministers in the neighbourhood, and amoDg others for Dr. Mayhew. 
 Speaking of Dr. Mayhew, he says, — " Observing, I suppose, my forward- 
 ness to express my opinion on every occasion, he advised me to be more 
 cautious and reserved ; and added that, had he been more reserved at the 
 commencement of his ministry, he might not only have escaped much cen- 
 sure and useless disputation, but have done more good in promoting what 
 he supposed to be the truth. He thought in younger life, as many young 
 minds, that there was something manly and noble in expressing his senti- 
 ments freely and without reserve, and that it implied a base spirit to do 
 otherwise; but time and experience had taught him the wisdom of the 
 Apostle's advice, — ' Hast thou faith, have it to thyself.' " 
 
 In June, 1763, he was invited to preach as a candidate at Needham; and, 
 though there was little in the character of the people to attract him, he 
 accepted an invitation to settle among them ; partly out of respect to his 
 father's advice, and partly in the hope of being able to assist a brother in 
 obtaining a liberal education. His salary was a little less than seventy-five 
 pounds a year. He was ordained on the 25th of April, 1764, in the 
 twenty-sixth year of his age ; the ceremony being performed in the open 
 air, on account of the church being too small to accommodate the congrega- 
 tion. The Sermon was preached by the Rev. Samuel West of Dartmouth, 
 and the charge was delivered by his father. The people treated him kindly, 
 and he gradually became reconciled to the less agreeable features of his 
 condition. 
 
 On the 23d of February, 1769, Mr. West was married to a Miss Plimp- 
 ton, of Medfield. They had four children. One son (Samuel) graduated 
 at Harvard College, in 1788; another, (Nathan Plimpton,) in 1792. Both 
 were educated entirely at his own expense. As his salary was not only 
 small but very poorly paid, he was obliged to make up the deficiency, 
 partly by labouring on a small farm, and partly by receiving boys into his 
 family to educate. 
 
 In the year 1786, his people were induced to come to some settlement 
 with him for arrearages due through the Revolutionary War; for which, in 
 case of his death, they were liable to be called upon by his heirs ; and, in 
 order to provide for the future, he proposed to them that he would relin- 
 quish the whole amount, on condition that they would consent to his leaving 
 them if he should, at any time, desire it. They agreed to the proposal, he 
 making a sacrifice of one hundred pounds. Shortly after this, he was 
 invited to preach in Federal Street Church, Boston, with reference to a 
 settlement ; and his people, perceiving that there was a call in prospect, 
 met and remonstrated against his removal ; whereupon he consented to 
 waive his right to go, on condition that they would pay two-thirds of the 
 
SAMUEL WEST. 53 
 
 arrearage due to him, and pay his salary punctually in future. About the 
 same time, he was invited to settle at Jamaica Plain ; but ho thought that 
 he could not honourably listen to the proposal. But the state of things in 
 Ids parish did not become better — their pecuniary engagements to him 
 remained unfulfilled ; and he was subjected to continual suspense and vexa- 
 tion. While he was in this state of extreme embarrassment, he received a 
 call from the Hollis Street Church, Boston, as successor to the Rev. Mr. 
 Wight: he had administered the communion to that church first after Dr. 
 Byles left it in 1776, and might have been settled there at that time, if he 
 would have given any encouragement to the people to call him. As he had 
 now remained with his people two years after the arrearages were due, and 
 nothing had been paid, he felt himself fully at liberty to consider the call 
 from Hollis Street; but the matter produced great disquietude in the 
 parish, insomuch that Mr. West was actually on the point of returning a 
 negative answer. On mature reflection, however, and in accordance with 
 the advice of his father, he accepted the call, (November 16, 1788,) having 
 previously spent a few Sabbaths with the congregation to which he was 
 called. When he returned to Needham for his family, he was received 
 with great coolness. He dispensed with the usual formality of having a 
 council to dissolve the relation between him and his people, on the ground 
 that he considered it as a mere social contract, and not more sacred than 
 any other. This was regarded by many of his brethren as a censurable 
 irregularity. After his settlement in Boston, the unkind feelings which had 
 existed among his former charge gradually died away, and, as he met indi- 
 viduals among them, from time to time, he manifested nothing towards 
 them but good-will, and thus, at no distant period, succeeded in recovering 
 his place in their affections. 
 
 His Installation at Boston took place on the 12th of March, 1789, the 
 Sermon on the occasion being preached by himself, from 2 Cor. iv, 1. In 
 this new field of labour, being exempt from all pecuniary embarrassments, 
 in consequence of having an adequate salary, he laboured with great dili- 
 gence, and quickly won the affections of his charge. A large part of his 
 time he spent in visiting them in their own houses. 
 
 He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, from Dartmouth 
 College, in 1798. 
 
 In the summer of 1801, his constitution suffered a severe shock from 
 violent spasms of nervous colie. After a few weeks, however, he began 
 gradually to recover, and about the middle of October was able to return 
 to his pulpit ; though he was henceforward unable to preach more than 
 half of the time. In September, 1803, he intimated to his people a wish 
 for assistance in his public services, leaving it to them to decide in respect 
 to his support. They acted in accordance with his suggestion ; and, from 
 that time, he preached but seldom, until, at length, he ceased preaching 
 altogether. In August, 1805, he made a journey to Charlestown, N. H. 
 the residence of his brother ; but he was so feeble that it was not without 
 difficulty that he accomplished it. From that time he withdrew entirely from 
 all public labour, though his active mind was constantly finding employment 
 at home. Even after he was confined to his bed, he dictated to an amanuensis 
 an autobiography of great interest. He furnished also to the Boston Cen. 
 
54 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tinel a series of articles, over the signature of " The Old Man," which 
 attracted very considerable attention. When he was near the close of life, 
 he dictated several letters to friends in affliction, full of affectionate coun- 
 sels, and expressive of the tenderest sympathy. At length, after! a con- 
 finement to his bed of twenty-six weeks, he expired on the 10th of 
 April, 1808, with the confident expectation of entering into rest. Hi3 
 Funeral Sermon was preached by his friend, Dr. John Lathrop, from 2 
 Timothy, i, 12. It was afterwards published in connection with a biograph- 
 ical sketch from the pen of the Rev. Thomas Thacher of Dedham. 
 The following is a list of Dr. West's printed Discourses : 
 A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Jonathan Newell*, 1774. A 
 Sermon delivered in the Second Church, Dedham, on occasion of the Death 
 of two young men, 1785. Two Discourses delivered on the day of the 
 Public Fast, 1785. A Sermon delivered on the day of the General Elec- 
 tion, 1786. A Sermon preached at his Instalment in Boston, 1789. A 
 Sermon preached on occasion of the Artillery Election, 1794. A Sermon 
 preached on occasion of the National" Thanksgiving, 1795. A Sermon 
 occasioned by the Death of George Washington, 1799. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Bkookline, March 3, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: Doctor Samuel West of Boston was, for a number of years, 
 my contemporary and neighbour in the ministry; and we were both members 
 of the same Association. I knew him quite intimately, and retain to this day 
 a vivid recollection of his personal appearance, as well as of his intellectual 
 and mora,l qualities. 
 
 Dr. West's native powers of mind were much above mediocrity; but they 
 were rather solid than brilliant. He was discriminating, accurate, patient in 
 investigation; and his mind was not accustomed to repose in results which 
 had been reached with little thought and care. He was a most diligent student, 
 not only while he was in College, but ever after; and yet study with him par- 
 took more of reflection than reading, for he thought that books were some- 
 times rather a hindrance than a help to intellectual culture. He was a fine 
 classical scholar, and was distinguished for his fidelity and success in fitting 
 students for College. His temper, as he has been heard to say, was naturally 
 irritable in the extreme; but he had so completely mastered it that there was 
 nothing visible to indicate that he was not as gentle as a lamb. He never 
 rendered evil for evil — if he was the subject of injur}', a forgiving spirit 
 seemed to come spontaneously into exercise. He was evidently a well-wisher 
 to all; and he endeavoured to do good to all according to his ability. His 
 manners were simple and unpretending, and no one could feel a painful 
 restraint in his presence. 
 
 Dr. West's habit of preaching differed, in his latter years, from that of most 
 of his brethren around him. In the former part of his ministry, he was 
 accustomed to write his sermons fully out, and read them from the pulpit; 
 but, about 1775, his circumstances became so much straitened as to forbid 
 his taking the time for such mature preparation, and he commenced preaching 
 "without notes. His people very soon expressed their preference for that mode 
 
 * Jonathan Newell was a native of Needham, Mass. ; "was graduated at Harvard College 
 in 1770; was ordained Pastor of the Church in Stow, October 11, 1774; and died October 4, 
 1830, aged eighty -one years. He was buried, by his own express orders, as a private citizen. 
 
HENRY CUMMINGS. 55 
 
 of preaching, and on that account he continued it. After he removed to Boston, 
 it was his invariable custom to compose his sermons, even to the whole of the 
 language, and, without committing one word to writing, to deliver them mem_ 
 oriter. His preaching was characterized by good sense and felicitous arrange- 
 ment of thought, but he had little animation or pathos, and of course was not 
 distinguished for awakening emotion in others. 
 
 He was educated not only a Trinitarian but a Calvinist. He abjured his 
 Calvinism at an early period, but what his particular views of the Trinity 
 were, I cannot say with confidence; though he always ranked with the liberal 
 party. He was also a decided Restorationist. Witness the following extract 
 from his autobiography — « The final cause or ultimate design of all the laws 
 by which God governs the system of nature, is the happiness of his crea- 
 tures; and if individual evil is produced by the uniform operation of those 
 laws, it is and must be conducive to the good of the whole. Nay, I am per- 
 suaded that the sufferings of every individual will eventually conduce to the 
 advancement of its happiness, and that the greatest sufferings, and those which 
 endure the longest, are designed, and will in the end terminate in proportion- 
 ate happiness." 
 
 Dr. West always took a deep interest in the political concerns of the country; 
 but never subjected himself to the censure of being an acrimonious or even 
 an earnest politician. During the Revolutionary struggle, though he was 
 a sincere well-wisher to his country's liberties, he still kept up a friendly 
 intercourse with those who were known as loyalists; while yet he rendered 
 every good service to the existing government which could be reasonably 
 expected of him. In the political conflicts of later days, while he could not 
 be charged with any thing like a timeserving neutrality, he still mingled so 
 much prudence with his decision, that he had the confidence of those who 
 differed from each other, and died, as it is believed, without a political enemy. 
 
 I am, dear Sir, Yours truly, 
 
 JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 HENRY CUMMINGS, D. D * 
 
 1761—1823. 
 
 Henry Oummings was born in Tyngsboro', Middlesex County, Mass., 
 September 25, 1737. While he was yet in his infancy, his parents 
 removed to Hollis, N. H., where he passed nearly all his youthful days. 
 His father, who was in moderate worldly circumstances, but a man of 
 excellent character, died when this son was about eight years old, leaving 
 a family of several children, of whom Henry was the eldest. His mother 
 was distinguished for earnest, active piety, and remarkable strength of 
 character. She was greatly devoted to the interests of her children, and 
 accounted no sacrifice great that might subserve their temporal, and espe- 
 cially their spiritual, interests. A few years after the death of her hus- 
 band, a gentleman made proposals of marriage to her, which she accepted, 
 and the arrangements for the contemplated connection were nearly com- 
 pleted. But, for some unknown cause, the engagement was suddenly 
 
 * Dr. Cummings' Half-Cent. Serin. — Sermon on his death, by Rev. Wilkes Allen. Ms. 
 from Rev. N. Whitman. 
 
56 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 broken ; and it was not until her son had been in the ministry several years 
 that she explained the matter to him. She stated that, in the last inter- 
 view which she had with the gentleman, previous to the time of her expected 
 marriage, he intimated to her that he did not expect that she would bring 
 her children with her to her new home, and asked how she intended to 
 dispose of them. She promptly replied, — " If you do not take my chil- 
 dren, you do not take me — I have a duty to perform towards them, and, 
 by God's aid, I shall perform it;" and immediately gave him leave to 
 retire. Such was the affectionate veneration with which her children 
 regarded her, that they went annually together to visit her as long as she 
 lived. On one of these anniversary visits, when she was far advanced in 
 life, and the Doctor himself was about sixty years old, he said he observed 
 her shedding tears ; and, before he left her, he ventured to inquire of her 
 the cause. Her answer was, — "As I looked round upon my children, 
 whom I must soon leave, I thought how awful it would be if any of them 
 should fail of meeting me in the Heavenly world." 
 
 The subject of this notice gave early indications of an uncommonly 
 vigorous mind, and attracted the attention of his minister, the Rev. Daniel 
 Emerson,* as a youth of so much promise as to justify some extraordinary 
 efforts to give him a collegiate education. Accordingly, he volunteered to 
 superintend his course of study preparatory to entering College. In 1756, 
 he entered at Cambridge, and, having maintained through his whole course 
 a high standing for both scholarship and moral conduct, graduated in 1760. 
 
 Having completed his collegiate course, he accepted an invitation from 
 a gentleman in Boston to reside in his family and prosecute his theolo- 
 gical studies. Before he had been there many months, he was, contrary 
 to his own judgment and wishes, introduced into the pulpit. Mr. Checkley, 
 the minister of the Old North Church, being unwell, earnestly requested 
 him to take his place for a single Sabbath ; and he reluctantly consented 
 to do so, but whether with or without a regular license does not appear. 
 Mr. Checkley continuing ill for some time, Mr. Cummings continued his Sab- 
 bath-day services ; and that, notwithstanding he had scarcely any pre- 
 vious preparations for the pulpit. From the commencement of his public 
 labours, he attracted very considerable attention, and was regarded as one 
 of the most promising young preachers of the day. 
 
 In the autumn of 1762, Mr. Cummings was employed to preach as a 
 candidate at Billerica ; and, on the 18th of November, received a united 
 call from the church and the town to become their Pastor. He accepted 
 the call, and was ordained and installed, January 26, 1763. The Sermon 
 on the occasion was preached by his friend and benefactor, the Rev. Daniel 
 Emerson, from Hebrews xiii. 17. Even at the time of his settlement, he 
 regarded his preparation for the ministry as altogether inadequate ; and 
 he has been heard to say, more than once, that he entered on his profes- 
 sion, and then fitted for it. He devoted himself to his studies with great 
 assiduity, and became a proficient especially in the Hebrew language, 
 
 * Daniel Emerson was born in Reading, Mass., May 17, 1716; was graduated at Har- 
 vard College in 1739; was ordained at Hollis, N. H., April 20, 1743; received Eli Smith as 
 his colleague, November 27, 1793 ; and died on the 30th of September, 1801, aged eighty- 
 five years, greatly beloved and honoured. 
 
HENRY CUMMINGS. 57 
 
 which he could not only read with fluency, but write with considerable 
 ease. 
 
 During the Eevolution, Mr. Cummings showed himself an earnest friend 
 of his country's Independence. Fully convinced that the cause of the 
 Colonies was n righteous cause, and that it was the duty of every man, 
 whatever might he his profession or relations, to aid it to the extent of las 
 ability, he laboured, both in the pulpit and out of it, to diffuse the patri- 
 otic spirit, and strengthen the hands of those on whom the direction of the 
 public concerns more immediately devolved. In 1783, the memorable 
 year that witnessed the close of the War, he preached the Annual Sermon 
 before the Legislature, — a sermon characterized by the most enlightened, 
 patriotic views. The town of Billerica testified their high appreciation of 
 his knowledge and good judgment in civil matters, by appointing him a 
 delegate to the Convention which framed the Constitution of Massachusetts. 
 
 Not long after his settlement at Billerica, he was consulted in regard 
 to a removal to one of the oldest and most respectable churches in Boston, 
 and was assured that a call would be made out for him at once, if he would 
 give any encouragement that he would accept it. He, however, rejected 
 the overture without hesitation; it being a fixed principle with him that 
 a minister has no right to leave his charge as long as his people are at 
 peace and his usefulness is undiminished. 
 
 In the year 1795, he preached the Annual Sermon before the Conven- 
 tion of Ministers in Massachusetts, and the same year delivered the Dud- 
 leian Lecture in Harvard College. In 1800, his Alma Mater conferred 
 upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. 
 
 In February, 1813, on the completion of Half a Century from the time 
 of his settlement, he preached a Sermon in which he briefly reviewed his 
 ministry, and intimated a wish to retire from the active duties of his office. 
 That Sermon, which was published, contains the following paragraphs: — 
 
 " Conscious I am of many imperfections and deficiencies in the prosecution of the 
 sacred office, in which I have been engaged, and feel that I have stood in need not only 
 of the candour of the Christian people over whom the Holy Ghost hath made me an 
 overseer, but much more of the pardoning mercy of God, of which I entertain good 
 hopes, through that blood of atonement which is not only necessary but sufficient both 
 for the priesthood and the people. 
 
 " But, though conscious of many failures, I have the satisfaction of reflecting that I 
 have sincerely endeavoured to declare the whole counsel of God, and have not design- 
 edly withheld any thing that I believed to he of importance, to promote the conviction 
 and conversion of sinners, and the edification of saints in faith and holiness. And 
 while I am consoled with this pleasing reflection, I can, with the most assured confi- 
 dence, appeal to all who have so regularly and diligently attended on my ministry as 
 to be acquainted with my general tenor and mode of preaching, to witness for me, 
 that, while I have seriously endeavoured to guard people against the ensnaring and 
 delusive sophistry of unprincipled libertines, infidels and skeptics on the one hand, and 
 the wild vagaries of blind enthusiasm, and the baneful influence of unenlightened party 
 zeal on the other; I have also endeavoured to explain, inculcate, and enforce the pecu- 
 liar doctrines of our holy religion; and to this end, in conformity to my obligations as 
 a Christian minister, have made it my principal business, agreeably to the Gospel 
 revelation, to lead my hearers into a just and true acquaintance with the glorious 
 character of Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God; with his incarnation and the 
 merciful design of his advent into the world; with his noble and salutary doctrines 
 and the miracles He wrought in confirmation of his Divine mission; with his heavenly 
 example and the nature, laws, institutions and ordinances of that kingdom of God 
 which is committed to his administration ; and with his voluntary humiliation and 
 death, when He made his soul an offering for sin; and also to establish people's faith 
 in his resurrection, ascension and merciful intercession, in the High Court of Heaven, 
 
58 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 and in his second appearing to judge the world, at an appointed period, every moment 
 approaching, when the dead shall he raised and pass into a state of final retribution, 
 that every one may receive according to his deeds done in the body." 
 
 In January, 1814, the Rev. Nathaniel Whitman was ordained, and 
 installed as Colleague Pastor of the church. Though Dr. Cummings occa- 
 sionally preached after this, yet he preferred, for the most part, to be a 
 silent worshipper in the sanctuary. He divested himself also, in a great 
 measure, of all worldly cares, and, for several months previous to his death, 
 he devolved the business even of providing for his family, in a great meas- 
 ure, upon his grand-daughters, who lived with him, and ministered to his 
 wants with the utmost reverence and tenderness. He had naturally an 
 athletic and vigorous constitution, and he accustomed himself to the fre- 
 quent exertion of his physical faculties, almost as long as he lived. But 
 old age gradually made its inroads upon him, and, for a few of his last 
 months, his decline became more rapid. He died in the utmost calmness, 
 on the 5th of September, 1823. A Sermon was preached at his Funeral 
 by the Rev. Wilkes Allen,* of Chelmsford, from 2 Samuel iii, 38. "A 
 great man is fallen this day in Israel." It was published. 
 
 Dr. Cummings was married, May 19, 1763, to Ann Lambert, of South 
 Reading. She died January 5, 1784. He was married November 14, 1788, 
 to Margaret Briggs, who died June 2, 1790. He was married September 
 20. 1791 to Sarah, daughter of the Rev. Ebenezer Bridge,! of Chelmsford, 
 .and the eldest of thirteen children. She died February 25,1812. He 
 had five children, all by the first marriage. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Cummings' publications : — 
 
 A Sermon preached on the day of Public Thanksgiving, 1766. A Ser- 
 mon preached on the day of Public Thanksgiving, 1775. A Sermon 
 preached at Lexington on the Anniversary of the Commencement of Hos- 
 tilities, 1781. A Sermon preached at the General Election, 1783. A 
 Sermon preached on the day of National Thanksgiving, 1783. A Sermon 
 preached at the Ordination of Phineas Wright,t 1785. A Discourse on 
 Natural Religion, 1795. A Sermon preached on Thanksgiving day, 1796. 
 A Sermon preached on Thanksgiving day, 1798. Right Hand of Fellow- 
 ship to Elijah Dunbar, § 1799. A Sermon delivered at Falmouth at the 
 Ordination of Caleb Bradley, 1799. Eulogy on the late Patriot, George 
 Washington, 1800. A Sermon preached on the Public Fast, 1801. A 
 Charity Sermon preached at Roxbury, 1802. Charge given to Wilkes 
 Allen, 1803. A Half Century Sermon preached at Billerica, 1813. 
 Charge given to Nathaniel Whitman, 1814. 
 
 » Wilkes Allen was born in Sterling, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1801 ; 
 was ordained Pastor of a church in Chelmsford November 16, 1803; and died in 1845. He 
 published a Thanksgiving Discourse entitled " Divine favours gratefully recollected," 1810; 
 and a History of Chelmsford, Mass., to which is added a Memoir of the Pawtucket tribe of 
 Indians, 1820. 
 
 ■j- Ebenezer Bridge was born in Boston; was graduated at Harvard College in 1736; was 
 ordained minister of Chelmsford, May 20, 1741 ; and died in October, 1792, aged seventy-eight. 
 He published the Massachusetts Artillery Election Sermon, 1752; and the Massachusetts 
 Election Sermon, 1767. 
 
 £ Phineas Wright was a native of Westford, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1772; was ordained at Bolton, Mass., on the 26th of October, 1785; and died on the 26th of 
 December, 1802, aged fifty-eight. 
 
 § Elijah Dunbar was born at Staughton, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1794; was a Tutor in Williams College from 1794 to 1796; was ordained Pastor of the Church 
 at Peterborough, N. H., October 23, 1799; was dismissed June 27, 1827; and died in 1850. 
 
HENRY CUMMINGS. 59 
 
 FROM THE KEV. JOSEPH RICHARDSON. 
 
 Himgham, October 24, 1862. 
 My dear Sir: My parents were members of the parish of which Dr. Henry 
 Cummiugs was Pastor. I was baptized by him in my infancy; grew up under 
 his ministry; and, occasionally, in the public school, recited to him the Assem- 
 bly's Catechism. It was under his influence, chiefly, that my early opinions on 
 moral and religious subjects were formed, and, after my graduation at College, 
 I pursued my theological studies under his direction. On account of the con- 
 tracted accommodations furnished in his house, I studied chiefly in a part of 
 his garret. But it mattered little as to the place, so long as I could have the 
 privilege of listening to his wise and weighty instruction. So long as he 
 lived, I knew him intimately.- I mourned his death almost as if it had been 
 the death of a father. 
 
 Dr. Cummings was a fine specimen of physical, mental and moral nobility. 
 His frame was large and well proportioned. His countenance evinced a high 
 order of intelligence and dignity. His air and manner assured you that you 
 were in the company of no ordinary man. His fine social qualities rendered 
 him a most agreeable companion. His sympathy and kindness he did not with- 
 hold even from the most unworthy. His public discourses were characterized 
 by great boldness of style, and were delivered with a voice of very considera- 
 ble power. My impression is that he had not a correct ear for music; but he 
 delighted in the inspiring thoughts of the best poets, ancient and modern. No 
 matter what subject might engage his attention, the movements of his mind 
 were always sure, strong, and every way well adapted. 
 
 In his theological views he was an Arminian, and I suppose an Arian also;- 
 though he seldom dwelt much on points of controversy in the pulpit. I think he 
 had no sympathy with any system that does not recognize the mediation of 
 Christ as the grand feature of the Christian economy. He exercised great kind- 
 liness of feeling towards those commonly called orthodox, and was on terms 
 of exchange with a number of them till near the close of his active ministry. 
 
 Of the extent of his influence in the Church at large some idea may be 
 formed from the fact that he was a member and moderator of a greater num- 
 ber of ecclesiastical councils than perhaps any other minister of his day. He 
 was an earnest patriot, and zealously devoted to the cause of the American 
 Revolution, and of our National Independence and Union. 
 
 It may be mentioned, as an evidence of the high attainments and character 
 of Dr. Cummings, that, previous to the election of Dr. Willard to the Presi- 
 dency of Harvard College, he had been named by a number of influential 
 individuals as a candidate for that office; but he respectfully declined the 
 nomination. 
 
 Please to accept the assurance of my great respect. 
 
 JOSEPH RICHARDSON. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ARIEL ABBOT, D. D. 
 
 Peterborough, N. H., September 16, 1857. 
 My dear Sir : You ask me to tell you what I remember concerning the late 
 Dr. Cummings of Billerica. My recollection of him goes back to the time 
 when I was fitting for College at the Andover Academy; but I do not remem- 
 ber to have had any personal intercourse with him till after I had commenced 
 preaching. In my journeys from Coventry to the Eastern part of Massachu- 
 setts, where many of my relatives resided, I frequently passed through Bille- 
 rica, and, whenever it was convenient, called upon Dr. Cummiugs, and never 
 failed to be interested and gratified by his conversation. 
 
60 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 He was, in his personal appearance, rather unusually commanding. He 
 was large, well proportioned and athletic, and there was an air of conscious 
 strength and independence about him that was little fitted to invite an assault. 
 And his mind was in keeping with his body, — prolific of strong, bold thoughts, 
 and ready for any enterprise that required energy of purpose or of action. He 
 was understood to be an able mathematician. You could not see him, whether 
 in the pulpit N or out of it, without getting the impression that he was a man 
 of might; — that he was formed to exert a powerful influence over his fellow 
 men. 
 
 I cannot say much of him as a Preacher from actual knowledge, my oppor- 
 tunities for hearing him having been very limited, but I am safe in saying that 
 his pulpit performances were much above the. average standard of his day. 
 His manner was simple, earnest and effective. His sermODS were generally 
 practical but argumentative, nor did he hesitate at all, on what he deemed 
 suitable occasions, to state clearly his views of Christian doctrine. Some of 
 his published sermons bear marks of a mind, trained not only to vigorous but 
 profound thought. In his religious opinions he was decidedly an Arminian, 
 and, as I have always understood, an Arian. He regarded Calvinism, in all 
 its forms, with no inconsiderable aversion. I remember to have heard him 
 speak of Edwards' Treatise on the Will, as being, in his opinion, nothing 
 better than fatalism; and he added, with his characteristic earnestness, that, 
 if he were an Atheist, he should want no better arguments than that work 
 supplied, to sustain his atheistical theory. 
 
 He was not only very agreeable and instructive in ordinary intercourse, but 
 was sometimes very happy in giving direction to the depressed and per- 
 plexed. A Deacon Abbot, who belonged to his Society, was subject to great 
 depression of mind, and was sometimes ready to despair, in respect to his 
 spiritual state. On one of these occasions, Dr. Cummings visited him, and, 
 after hearing the story of his doubts and anxieties, said to him,— "You 
 believe that God will deal with you in a manner that is right and fitting, — do 
 you not?" " Well, if you are to be cast off, as you insist that you shall be, 
 you must have your portion among those who hate and blaspheme God — 
 now, you surely could not be at home among those wicked beings — the com- 
 pany which you would relish most, would be that of the wise and good, — 
 those who love and reverence and obey God." To this the man could not but 
 assent. " Then," said Dr. Cummings, << you may rest assured that you are 
 not fit for the former company, — that you are fit for the latter; and God is 
 too wise and good not to put you in the right place." This mode of reasoning 
 afforded to the man at least a temporary relief. 
 
 Among the pleasant anecdotes which I heard him relate was the following : — 
 In a neighbouring parish a minister had received an invitation to settle, who 
 was known to be a somewhat zealous Hopkinsian. A member of the parish, 
 who supposed himself an old-fashioned Calvinist, called on Dr. Cummings to 
 express his dissatisfaction with the minister whom the parish had chosen. " I 
 am a Calvinist," said he, << but this Hopkinsianism I cannot endure;" and 
 then went on to state several things which he considered included in it. Dr. 
 Cummings immediately took down from his library a book containing the 
 doctrines of the Arminian school, on the several points to which he had refer- 
 red, and read them to him, and the man exclaimed with great apparent satis- 
 faction, that " those were his views exactly." He then took down another 
 book, and read from it the peculiar views of Calvin on the same points, and 
 his visitor declared that that was .the very system which their Hopkinsian 
 minister was preaching to them. The Doctor then, in a good natured way, 
 revealed to the man the ^secret that he was an Arminian. 
 
 Dr. Cumming's influence was felt on society at large, and perhaps nowhere 
 
HENRY CUMMINGS. 61 
 
 more than in ecclesiastical councils. And this reminds me of another anec 
 dote that may serve to illustrate some traits of his character. A council was 
 called to ordain the Rev. Mr. Raynolds at "Wilmington. Mr. R. had studied 
 under Dr. Backus of Somers, and seems to have been more of a Hopkinsian 
 than his instructor. The council called to ordain him consisted chiefly of 
 ministers in the neighbourhood, a majority of whom were probably Arminians, 
 and they were so little satisfied with the examination of the candidate, and 
 withal there was so little unanimity in the Society, that they voted not to 
 proceed with the ordination. The church, still determined on having him 
 settled, voted to retain the former council, but to add to it a sufficient number 
 of the stricter party to secure the preponderance on that side. Several of the 
 Arminian brethren, and among them Dr. Cummings, refused to attend. Dr. 
 Backus, who preached on the occasion, found it convenient, on his second 
 journey to Wilmington, to call and pass the night with Dr. Cummings. Ha 
 found him very hospitable and agreeable, and, in the course of the evening, 
 the conversation turned upon the doings of the preceding council at Wilming- 
 ton. Says Dr. Backus, " I am surprised that you gentlemen, who profess to 
 be so liberal, should have acted so illiberal a part in refusing to ordain a man 
 because he differed from you in opinion; if it had been we stiff-backs, who 
 make no pretentions to liberality, it would not have been strange." Says Dr. 
 Cummings, with great good nature, — '< Oh, when we are among stiff-backs, We 
 must be stiff-backs too." I heard Dr. Backus relate the incident at a meet- 
 ing of the Tolland Ascociation, and he seemed to have been much amused by it. 
 Notwithstanding Dr. Cummings was urbane and pleasant in his general 
 intercourse, he is understood to have been a somewhat rigid domestic disciplin- 
 arian. His children were under more than common restraint, and possibly 
 more than conduced to their advantage. Of course this indicated no lack of 
 parental affection, though perhaps it was a mistake in judgment. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT. 
 
 FROM THE RET. NATHANIEL WHITMAN. 
 
 Bridgewater, Mass., February 6, 1852. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with my venerable colleague, Dr. Cum- 
 mings, commenced in the summer of 1813, and continued without interruption 
 till the time of his death. It was thus my privilege to enjoy the most inti- 
 mate, confidential and delightful intercourse with him during a period of ten 
 years. I suppose I shall meet your wishes best by tasking my memory for 
 some of the incidents illustrative of his character, which fell under my obser- 
 vation, or came within my knowledge. 
 
 One of the most prominent traits of Dr. Cummings' character was his inflex- 
 ible adherence to general rules. He used often to say to me that one of the 
 great deficiencies among Christians was their making exceptions to general 
 rules too easily, and without a wise consideration of consequences. The effect 
 of this was that he was never thoroughly understood by those who saw him 
 only at a distance. 
 
 Let me illustrate: — To accommodate the aged members of the church, he 
 proposed, soon after his ordination, to omit the Communion service in the winter 
 season, and to increase the number of Communion occasions in the pleasanter 
 parts of the year. But the aged members said " No; we want the Communion 
 in the winter as well as the summer. A short time after this, the Communion 
 happened on a Sabbath which was extremely stormy and uncomfortable. The 
 Deacon called upon him in the morning and said, — << You will, of course, Sir, 
 postpone the Communion — nobody can get to meeting to-day." His answer 
 
62 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 was, — "No, the Communion will not be postponed; they have deliberately 
 decided that they will have the Communion during the winter season — that 
 is our rule, and I shall conform to it." Whenever he went to take tea with a 
 family, if he happened to say, when he arrived, as he very frequently did, — 
 " I must start for home at such a time," start he would, whether he had had 
 his tea or not; and no entreaties could prevail to alter his determination. He 
 would sometimes be requested to shorten the afternoon exercises on the Sab- 
 bath, on account of a funeral which was to succeed them; but his answer 
 would be, unless special reasons forbade, — -<< No, I shall not subordinate the 
 established worship of God to such arrangements. You will soon want me to 
 dispense with the afternoon service altogether on such occasions — I see no 
 reason in such a request — -we must maintain the regular worship — I will be 
 at the funeral in good season." He was accustomed religiously to observe 
 Sabbath evening; but to be prepared for perfect freedom, in all respects, for 
 the enjoyment and improvement of the Sabbath, he would bring all worldly 
 matters to a stand earlj r Saturday evening; not, however, because he was nar- 
 row-minded or superstitious, but because he was just the opposite. His family 
 must always all go to meeting. But a formal and warm dinner must also be 
 prepared; because he might see some friend, or some stranger, at meeting, 
 whom it would be his duty to ask home to dine with him. So the difficulty 
 of the case was thus met — the dinner was partly prepared in the morning, 
 and hastily finished at noon. Thus both these general rules were observed, 
 ever after I knew him. A few days before his death, he said to his grand- 
 daughters who had the care of him, — " Is the house ready? I wish every thing 
 to be arranged, so that when the solemn scene shall come, you may be able to 
 be still and meditate." And so it was in respect to every thing — he adhered 
 to general rules, — sometimes doubtless too rigidly; but, in doing so, he was 
 evidently governed by the sternest convictions of right; and the occasional 
 errors into which the principle may have led him, were not such as to mater- 
 ially affect his usefulness. 
 
 The theological controversy of Dr. Cummings' day related, I suppose, more 
 especially to the subject of Moral Agency. In this controversy, he was prom- 
 inent among those divines who maintained the Arminian view of the subject. 
 He examined Edwards on the "Will with great care, and wrote a Review of it, 
 which he highly valued, containing condemnatory strictures. A few years 
 after he was ordained, he became dissatisfied with the Trinitarian views in 
 which he had been educated; and, having procured Waterland, and what- 
 ever other standard authors were within his reach, he spent a good part 
 of ». year in a critical examination of the subject. Not being satisfied with 
 the result, he betook himself to the diligent study of the sacred records; and 
 he finally rested in the conclusion that the revealed doctrine is that there is 
 one God, the Father, and one Mediator, the Lord Jesus Christ. He had no 
 fondness for any human theory whatever on the subject of the union of the 
 Father and Son; though he certainly was not a Humanitarian. 
 
 On a visit which I paid to Dr. Cummings not long before his death, I took 
 the liberty to ask him if there was any thing remarkable in the manner of his 
 first becoming interested in religion. Pale and feeble, he raised his head a 
 little from his pillow, and, with tears copiously rolling down his withered 
 cheeks, he made me the following answer: — "It was in a way of God's 
 blessing on a Christian education. I should have been an infidel, had it not 
 been for my mother. She used to keep me reading daily in the New Testament, 
 while she set before me a trul}' Christian example. I was thus trained up to 
 believe that the New Testament contained a Divine revelation; and I was sat- 
 isfied that such a, religion was worthy of all acceptation, because I saw its 
 blessed influences in my mother's character, and in her deep solicitude for 
 
HENRY CUMMINGS. 63 
 
 the salvation of her children. I was thus," he continued, " saved from the 
 paths of the destroyer, until, as I grew up, I became wholly persuaded and 
 enabled to become a Christian, through a Divine blessing on my own earnest 
 attention to the subject." His language to strangers who called upon him in 
 his decline, was, — " I am not in bondage through fear of death." To me he 
 would say, — ■<< I feel as sure of future felicity as I do of my future existence. 
 My religion is ingrained with the very elements of my moral being — in order 
 to take my religion from me, it would be necessary to tear my soul, fibre from 
 fibre." By this way of speaking, he designed to say that he had the witness 
 in himself that Christ was formed within him, the hope of his glory; for 
 he repudiated with infinite abhorrence all thought of personal merit — he 
 regarded salvation as wholly of grace. He was deeply impressed with the 
 fact that the sinner is prone to deceive himself — by building his hope of Hea- 
 ven on a dead faith. Hence he was most pointed, solemn and earnest in urging 
 the necessity of believing in Christ, with the heart, unto righteousness; 
 declaring to his hearers, with all plainness, that, if their faith in Christ did 
 not save them from sinning, neither would it save them from suffering. His 
 preaching was eminently practical, because it was emphatically doctrinal. A 
 spiritual renovation, begun and carried forward, through the Spirit and grace 
 of God, by the instrumentality of a supernatural revelation, — this was one 
 of the great truths on which he loved to dwell. He intended, as he told me, 
 to close his ministry by repeating a sermon from the text, — " By grace are ye 
 saved." He accordingly read it over and over again, the spring before his 
 death, that he might, be able to deliver it with ease and impressiveness; but 
 his strength failed so rapidly that he was not able to deliver it at all. 
 
 Dr. Cummings was remarkable for the impartiality of his friendship towards 
 all his people, as well as for the dexterous manner in which he sometimes 
 manifested it. It was customary, at an early period in the history of the 
 town, to hold the town-meeting (March meeting) during the whole day. They 
 would organize in the forenoon; and those living in the middle of the large 
 town, (as its boundaries then were,) were accustomed to invite to dinner those 
 who lived at a distance; and the minister used to practise the same civility in 
 this respect as bis neighbours. On one of these occasions, when he had a 
 number of his parishioners sitting around his table, one of them, evidently 
 with a view to exalt himself in the estimation of his minister, began to speak 
 in a sort of confidential manner to him, to the disparagement of certain of his 
 parishioners who were not present. The Doctor turned round, with great 
 dignity and sternness, and thus addressed his mistaken "guest : — "I invited 
 you to dine with me to day as a friend to me, and not as a slanderer of any 
 of my people, all of whom I consider my friends." The reproof had the 
 desired effect. Indeed, it was a proverbial saying among the people, — " Pour 
 a bushel basket full of gossip and scandal down at the Doctor's door, and he 
 will not stoop to pick it up." 
 
 In every social and relative duty Dr. Cummings was most careful and con- 
 scientious. He did not allow himself even to mention the name of any one who 
 had injured him, without special cause, lest he should say something incon- 
 sistent with Christian forgiveness. I may add that, as an observer of the Sab- 
 bath, as a venerator of Christian institutions and ordinances, few, if any, 
 exceeded him. 
 
 The first Sabbath of May, 1823, was our Communion. I asked him, on the 
 morning of that day, if he proposed to attend meeting. His reply was, — << I 
 am not well enough to go, for I am very feeble: I shall nevertheless make the 
 attempt, because it is Communion day. I will go, if I can, to show mjr regard 
 and veneration for the ordinance." He went, took his seat in a pew, and 
 seemed to enjoy the services of the occasion. As we walked from the house 
 
64 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 of God to our homes, after the service, he said to me, — " I shall never again 
 unite with you in public worship on earth — my departure is near." He then, 
 till we reached home, continued speaking with deep gratitude of the goodness 
 and mercy of God towards him during his long life. We never did worship 
 together in public after that day. He was at meeting indeed, a part of the 
 next Sunday, but I exchanged. Let me say, in this connection, that he was 
 an open and earnest enemy to that pseudo something, which would destroy a 
 practical regard to the institutions and ordinances of Christianity. He used 
 to say, — The farther a true civilization advances, the greater will be the prac- 
 tical devotion to these institutions and ordinances; for so will their importance, 
 beauty and utility be more clearly seen and more deeply felt. While he 
 rejoiced in many of the signs of the times, there were some which did not 
 give him pleasure; yet he delighted to anticipate a holier and happier period 
 of the Church and of the nations. While he held his own opinions firmly, he 
 was eminently a lover of all good men, however they might differ from him in 
 their theological speculations. 
 
 I must not omit to say that I found in him every thing I could desire in a 
 colleague. An incident which now occurs to me may illustrate the graceful 
 and dignified manner in which he retired, in a great measure, from the scenes 
 of public and official life. The week after my ordination, I was dining with 
 him; and, while at the table, he said to me, — " Where have you been this fore- 
 noon?" Answering according to my then predominant feelings, I said, — "I have 
 been to visit one of your people who is sick." Laying down his knife and 
 fork, and turning round so as to look me full in the face, he said, with an 
 expression of countenance and an emphasis which I shall never forget, — << Our 
 people." He did not add another word. I comprehended his design in a 
 moment. It was to encourage me to cherish a feeling of equality with him in 
 our joint labours. And when he thought that there had been time for his 
 remark to take effect, he began to talk with me about my people, and to inquire 
 when a labour of love from him would be most acceptable to me; for he 
 preached occasionally for several years after I was settled. And he always 
 endeavoured so to arrange in respect to the time of his preaching as to afford 
 me the greatest relief and assistance. He laboured also continually among my 
 people to promote both my comfort and usefulness. Said he to me, one day, — 
 " I have been out among the people, generalling for you." Yes, from first to 
 last, he used to be generalling for me. Indeed, he appeared to take more 
 satisfaction when any thing occurred that seemed a favour to me, than when 
 he was the immediate object of the favour himself. I remember him with the 
 warmest gratitude and veneration, and shall be glad if what I have written is 
 any help to you in your attempt to embalm his memory. 
 
 Tours with sincere regard, 
 
 NATHANIEL WHITMAN. 
 
SIMEON HOWARD. 65 
 
 SIMEON HOWARD, D. D. 
 
 1762 — 1804. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Bkookline, February 15, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: I was contemporary in the ministry with Dr. Howard of 
 Boston for several years, and have still a vivid recollection of his venera- 
 ble appearance. He was far advanced in life at the time of my settlement 
 here, and my intercourse with him was that of a young man with an old 
 one ; but I think I may safely trust myself to say a few things in respect 
 to both his history and his character. 
 
 Simeon Howard was a native of Bridgewater, in this State, and was 
 born, April 29, (0. S.,) 1733. He entered Harvard College in 1754, and, 
 having maintained through his whole course a high standing for scholar- 
 ship, graduated with distinguished honour in 1758. After leaving Col- 
 lege, he engaged for a time in teaching a school ; and, probably in connec- 
 tion with his duties as a teacher, prosecuted the study of Theology. Hav- 
 ing received approbation to preach, he was invited to labour for a time in 
 Cumberland, Nova Scotia, and, his health being in a state to be benefitted, 
 as he thought, by a sea-voyage, he accepted the invitation, and continued 
 there, it is believed, between, one and two years. Here he made many 
 friends, and they would gladly have detained him permanently among them,- 
 but he preferred to return to this country. Accordingly, he did return, in 
 1765, and went to Cambridge to prosecute his studies as a resident graduate. 
 The next year, he was elected Tutor, at the same time with Mr. (after- 
 wards President) Willard. In February, 1767, he was unanimously invited 
 to become the Pastor of the West Church in Boston, then vacant by the 
 death of Dr. Mayhew, which had occurred the preceding year. This invi- 
 tation he accepted. He was ordained on the 6th of May following, and 
 the Sermon on the occasion was preached by Dr. Chauncy. 
 
 The ministry of Dr. Howard in Boston was painfully interrupted by the 
 scenes of the Kevolution. While the British troops were in possession of 
 the town, the house in which he preached was turned into a barrack, and 
 his congregation scattered in every direction. Having made many friends 
 in Nova Scotia, during his previous residence there, and having been once 
 or twice applied to to send them a minister, he proposed to some of his 
 parishioners who seemed disheartened by a vif-w of the sad state of things, 
 to retire with him thither for a refuge ; and, though he was scarcely seri- 
 ous, at the moment, in making the proposal, they, in their despondency, 
 instantly fell in with it, and the arrangements were quickly made for their 
 departure. As Dr. Howard was known to be a decided Whig, it was not 
 without some difficulty that he obtained permission to leave the country. 
 He, however, at length succeeded, and, after a tedious voyage of a month, 
 arrived with his friends at Annapolis Royal. They found the inhabitants in 
 a state of want, almost approaching starvation ; and yet they were received 
 with great kindness, and as much hospitality as the distressing pressure of 
 the times would permit. They soon passed on to the place of their desti- 
 
 Vol. VIII. 5 
 
66 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 nation, which was eighteen miles up the river, where also the people, though 
 greatly straitened for the necessaries of life, met them with every expres- 
 sion of good-will, and provided them with the best accommodations they 
 could furnish. 
 
 Shortly after his arrival, he was arrested and carried to Halifax, in con- 
 sequence, as was supposed, of a letter written by General Gage to the Gov- 
 ernor of the Province, after Mr. Howard's application to go to Nova Sco- 
 tia had been refused, and from an apprehension that he might make his 
 escape privately. After his request was granted, the Governor wrote a 
 second letter, which, though it did not arrive in season to prevent his arrest, 
 was the occasion of his being immediately liberated. He was treated with 
 great respect while he was in Halifax, and preached in one of the churches. 
 Ho discovered, as. he thought, an impatient and restive spirit among the 
 people, that might easily have been wrought up to open rebellion ; but, as 
 he honestly believed that any such hostile demonstration would only ren- 
 der their case worse, he endeavoured rather to soothe them by sympathy 
 than encourage them to revolt. 
 
 On his return to Boston, after an absence of nearly a year and a half, he 
 found his Society so far reduced in numbers, from death, emigration and 
 other causes, that they were seriously apprehensive that they should be 
 obliged to disband, from their inability to support the ministry. He 
 refused, however, to listen to such a suggestion, assuring them that he 
 would receive whatever compensation they could give him, and would con- 
 tinue with them while three families remained. He further agreed "to 
 accept the contribution that should, from time to time, be collected and 
 paid him during his ministry, as a full compensation, any agreement with 
 the Society previously made notwithstanding." The Society, as they recov- 
 ered their strength, did not forget the generous sacrifices which he had 
 made in their behalf. 
 
 He died after an illness of a week, on the 13th of August, 1804, in the 
 seventy-second year of his age. On the Monday previous, he dined at the 
 house of a friend, and was apparently in perfect health. But, in conse- 
 quence, as was supposed, of some imprudence in respect to his dress, he 
 was seized with a violent disease, {angina pectoris,) which resisted all medi- 
 cal skill. His Funeral was attended on "Wednesday, the 15th, and a Ser- 
 mon preached on the occasion by his particular friend, President Willard, 
 from Revelation ii, 10. There was every demonstration of respect to his 
 memory, not only among his own people but in the community at large ; 
 and many of the shops and stores were closed in the streets through which 
 ■the funeral procession passed. 
 
 The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by the Uni- 
 versity of Edinburgh. He was an Overseer and a Fellow of Harvard 
 College, and was a member of most of our Societies for the promotion 
 of literary, charitable and religious objects, and an officer of several of 
 them. 
 
 Dr. Howard was first married in December, 1771, to the widow of Dr. 
 Mayhew, his predecessor. She died in April, 1777, at the age of forty- 
 four. His second wife was the daughter of his early friend, Dr. Gay, of 
 Hinghiim. He left one son, Dr. John Clarke Howard, sometimes called 
 
SIMEON HOWARD. 67 
 
 " the beloved physician," who was graduated at Harvard College in 1790, 
 and died in 1810, aged thirty-eight years. 
 
 Dr. Howard, in his religious opinions, was probably always an Avian. 
 During the earlier part of his ministry, he did not belong to the Boston 
 Association, as his predecessor had not done. It appears from the records 
 of the Association that, in August, 1784, a Committee, appointed at a for- 
 mer meeting, " to wait on him, and know whether he wished to join the 
 Association, reported that they had attended to that service, and the Rev. 
 Mr. Howard would take the matter into consideration." It appears fur- 
 ther that, in July, 1790, Dr. Howard signified his desire to become a mem- 
 ber, and was admitted, accordingly, and preached the Thursday Lecture. 
 The fact of his not joining the Association at an earlier period was not 
 owing to any want of good-will towards his brethren, but probably to the 
 peculiar circumstances in which he found himself placed, as the successor 
 of Dr. Mayhew, in whose theological views he was known to sympathize. 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. Howard was far from being, in the common accepta- 
 tion of the word, eloquent. He seldom took his eyes from his manu- 
 script during the delivery of a sermon. His style, however, was per- 
 spicuous and flowing, and his method exact and luminous. His sermons 
 were generally on practical subjects, though he was undoubtedly more free 
 in the statement of his peculiar views than most of his contemporaries. 
 His prayers were uttered with great solemnity, and occasionally with con- 
 siderable pathos. At the Funeral of Dr. John Clarke, whose sudden death 
 greatly affected him, and again on the occasion of a Commencement at 
 Cambridge, when his friend President Willard lay dangerously ill, I remem- 
 ber his praying with a degree of fervour and tenderness that awoke the 
 sympathies of nearly the whole audience. 
 
 Dr. Howard was distinguished for a truly patriarchal simplicity of char- 
 acter. No one ever suspected him of seeming to aim at one object when 
 he was really aiming at another. He evidently had a humble opinion of 
 himself, though lie had nothing of that spurious humility that leads some 
 men to be forever ostentatiously acknowledging their own imperfections. 
 He was charitable in his estimate of character, and never imputed evil 
 motives when any other could possibly be supposed. He was bland and 
 gentle in his manners ; calm and equable in his temper. He was cheerful 
 without levity, and serious without gloom. He was more inclined to listen 
 thau to speak; and when he did speak, he rarely, if ever, said any thing 
 which either he or his friends had occasion to regret. His parishioners 
 loved him as a brother and honoured him as a father ; his brethren in the 
 ministry always met him with a grateful and cordial welcome ; and the com- 
 munity at large reverenced him for his simplicity, integrity and benevolence. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Howard's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon preached at the Artillery Election, 1773. A Sermon occa- 
 sioned by the Death of his Wife, 1777. A Sermon preached before a Lodge 
 of Free Masons, 1778. Christians have no cause to be ashamed of their 
 Religion : A Sermon, 1779. A Sermon preached on the day of the Gene- 
 ral Election, 1780. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Thomas 
 Adams,* 1791. I am faithfully yours, JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 * Thomas Adams was a native of Roxbury; was graduated at Harvard College in 1788' 
 was ordained at Camden, S. C, November 18, 1791; and died August 16, 1797. 
 
68 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 JOHN LATHROP, D. D. 
 
 1765—1816. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Brookline, January 8, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir : In complying with your request for my recollections of 
 Dr. John LaLhrop, I am able to avail myself of some memoranda respect- 
 ing him which I made shortly after his death. I cherish the most sincere 
 respect for his memory, and am glad you have given me an opportunity to 
 testify it through your contemplated work. He had a high place in the 
 hearts of his brethren, and was regarded with much veneration by the 
 community at large. 
 
 John Lathrop was born of reputable parents in Norwich, Conn., May 
 17, 1740, and was the youngest but one of ten sons. It was his purpose, 
 in early life, to devote himself to the medical profession, and he even 
 commenced his studies with reference to it, but subsequently resolved to 
 enter the ministry. Accordingly, he became in due time a member of 
 Princeton College, where he received his Bachelor's degree in 1763. 
 
 For some months after his graduation, he was engaged as an assistant 
 teacher with the Rev. Dr. Wbeeloek, in Moor's Indian Charity School, at 
 Lebanon, Conn., and, at the same time, availed himself of Dr. Wheelock's 
 instruction in Theology. After he received approbation to preach, he 
 laboured, for a short time, as a missionary among the Indians, and, in 
 
 1767, was invited to settle both at Taunton and Reading, — both of which 
 invitations, however, he declined. Shortly after, he preached as a can- 
 didate at the Old North Church in Boston, from which he received a 
 unanimous call ; and, having accepted the call, was ordained, May 18, 
 
 1768. In 1775, when Boston was in possession of the British army, he 
 set out to find a refuge in his native place ; but, as he was passing through 
 Providence ou his way to Norwich, proposals were made to him to supply 
 a destitute congregation there, to which he consented. Upon the opening 
 of Boston, in 1776, however, he returned; and, in the mean time, the 
 ancient house in which he had been accustomed to preach had been demo- 
 lished and used as fuel. It was ninety-eight years old ; but was consid- 
 ered, " at its demolition, a model of the first architecture in New England." 
 Mr. Lathrop accepted an invitation from the New Brick Church, to aid 
 their Pastor, Dr. Pemberton, then in a declining state. And, after Dr. 
 Pemberton's death in the following year, the two Societies united ; and, 
 on the 27th of June, 1779, he became their joint Pastor. In this relation 
 he continued during the remainder of his life. 
 
 He received a Diploma of Doctor of Divinity from the University of 
 Edinburgh, in 1184. 
 
 I have it on the authority of the late Dr. Eliot, that, in early life, 
 Dr. Lathrop embraced the Calvinistic faith. Indeed, considering that 
 he was born and received his early education in Connecticut, where 
 scarcely any other form of doctrine was then known, it would have been 
 strange had the case been otherwise. At what period in his ministry the 
 
JOHN LATHROP. 69 
 
 change in his views took place, I am unable to say — but that he actually 
 did become an Avminian, and, in some sense, a Unitarian, is, I believe, 
 beyond all doubt. He may have been an Arian or a Sabellian, or a 
 believer in the "Indwelling scheme," as it has been called; but of the 
 particular type of his Unitarianism I cannot speak with confidence. He 
 said little on these subjects in private ; and, so far as my knowledge 
 extends, nothing at all in public. His settlement in Boston brought him 
 in contact with such men as Doctors Chauncy, Howard, Eliot, Belknap, 
 Clarke, and others of a similar stamp ; and, as he was on terms of the most 
 intimate intercourse with them, his opinions, perhaps, insensibly to him- 
 self, came into essential harmony with theirs. 
 
 Dr. Lathrop's preaching was rather practical than doctrinal ; rather sen- 
 sible than ornate. His sermons were short, not ordinarily exceeding 
 twenty-five minutes in the delivery. There was little of the appearance of 
 labour about them; and the thoughts which he expressed, though judi- 
 cious and pertinent, were generally obvious to ordinary minds, and par- 
 took, like the character of his own mind, more of correctness than origi- 
 nality. His manner of speaking in the pulpit was deliberate, but some- 
 times animated ; though it lacked perhaps somewhat the simplicity of nature. 
 His devotional performances were generally appropriate and acceptable. 
 
 He was an ardent patriot. Of the scenes of the devolution he was far 
 from being an indifferent spectator ; but, on the contrary, he mingled in 
 them with great zeal, as far as would consist with his sacred vocation. 
 From the time of the formation of the Federal Constitution, he was a uni- 
 form and ardent disciple of Washington. During the War of 1812, he was, 
 like most of his brethren, convinced that our government was greatly in 
 fault, and hesitated not to speak out his convictions, both in public and in 
 private. 
 
 Dr. Lathrop exerted no inconsiderable influence in his day ; but he was 
 indebted for it rather to his uniformly judicious course than to any remarka- 
 ble intellectual endowments or acquirements. In his intercourse with 
 society at large he was blameless and inoffensive, generous and public- 
 spirited. With his ministerial brethren he maintained the most affection- 
 ate familiarity ; and even the youngest of them, while he bowed before his 
 venerable age, felt attracted to his kind and open heart. In his family he 
 was a model of whatever is fitted to render happy and useful the most 
 eudearing relations. For years before his death, he moved about as a. very 
 Patriarch among us, and his presence in any circle never failed to inspire 
 respect and reverence. 
 
 Dr. Lathrop discharged regularly and acceptably his various duties until 
 within a very short time of his death. The last business in which he was 
 engaged was at a meeting of the Corporation of Harvard College, at the 
 house of the Hon. Judge Davis. He complained there of violent chills, and 
 expressed an apprehension that the fever and ague, from which he had pre- 
 viously suffered, was about to return upon him. He refused an invitation 
 to ride home in a carriage, hoping that the exercise of walking would excite 
 a salutary perspiration ; but it was with much difficulty that he reached 
 his own dwelling.- His case was immediately pronounced by his physicians 
 a lung fever. He alternately languished, and exhibited symptoms of 
 
70 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 recruiting, for twenty-two days, when the lamp of life went out. He died 
 on Thursday, the 4th of January, 1816, in the seventy-sixth year of his 
 age, and forty-eighth of his ministry. His Funeral was attended on the 
 succeeding Tuesday, and a Sermon preached on the occasion by the Kev. 
 Francis Parkman, from Zechariah, i, 5, " Your fathers,— where are they?" 
 It was published. 
 
 In 1778, he became a Fellow of the Corporation of Harvard Univer- 
 sity, which station he filled till his death. He was, for many years, Secre- 
 tary of the Board. He was also one of the Counsellors of the American 
 Academy of Arts and Sciences ; President of the Massachusetts Congrega- 
 tional Charitable Society, and of the Society for Promoting Christian 
 Knowledge ; Vice President of the Massachusetts Bible Society, and of 
 the Society for Propagating the Gospel in North America; Member of the 
 Scotch Board of Commissioners, of the American Antiquarian Society, &c. 
 
 The following is a list of his publications : — 
 
 A Sermon occasioned by the Boston Massacre, 1770. A Sermon to a 
 Religious Society of Young Men at Medford, 1771. An Artillery Elec- 
 tion Sermon, 1774. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1774. A Sermon on the 
 Fifth of March, 1778. A Sermon on the Death of his Wife, 1778. A 
 Sermon at the Ordination of William Bentley, 1783. A Discourse occa- 
 sioned by the Return of Peace, 1783. A Discourse before the Humane 
 Society of Massachusetts, 1787. A Catechism for the use of Children, (2 
 editions,) 1791 and 1813. The Dudleian Lecture at Harvard College, 
 1793. A Discourse addressed to the Charitable Fire Society, 1796. A 
 Sermon on Fires in Boston, 1797. A Fast Sermon occasioned by the Yel- 
 low Fever, 1798. A Sermon on the National Fast, 1799. A Sermon on 
 the Commencement of the Nineteenth Century, (in two parts,) 1801. A 
 .Sermon before the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts 
 1804. A Sermon before the Boston Female Asylum, 1804. A Sermon 
 at the Dismission of the Rev. Joseph McKean, at Milton, 1804. A Ser 
 mon at the Interment of the Rev. Samuel West, D. D., 1808. A Thanks 
 giving Sermon, 1808. A Sermon on the Death of his Wife, Mrs. Eliza; 
 beth Lathrop, 1809. A Sermon at the Interment of the Rev. Dr. Eckley 
 1811. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1811. A Discourse delivered on the 
 Author's Birthday, 1812. Two Fast Sermons occasioned by the War of 
 1812-15, 1812. A Sermon on the Death of the Rev. John Eliot, D. D., 
 1813. Biographical Memoir of the Rev. John Lothrop, 1813. A Ser- 
 mon at the Dedication of a Church in Dorchester, 1813. A Sermon on 
 the Law of Retaliation, 1814. A Sermon preached at Weymouth, at the 
 Interment of Miss Mary P. Bicknell, 1814. A Thanksgiving Sermon on 
 the Return of Peace, 1815. A Compendious History of the late War, 1815. 
 
 In addition to the above may be mentioned several Charges, &c, at 
 Ordinations, delivered at different periods of his ministry, and some valua- 
 ble communications to the American Academy, which are embodied in their 
 Collections. I am very truly yours, JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 Several letters addressed by Dr. Lathrop, at an early period of his min- 
 istry, to the Rev. Ebenezer Baldwin, of Danbury, Conn.', have come into 
 my possession, the following extracts from which may help to illustrate 
 
JOHN LATHROP. 71 
 
 some points of his history, and especially the allusions, in Dr. Pierce's let- 
 
 terf to his early religious opinions. 
 
 In a letter dated, Boston, June 28, 1768, he writes thus : — 
 
 " I really hope and believe you will prove a warm defender of the Gospel; and, Oh, 
 my friend, men of this character are much wanted. For my part, I had rather be 
 thought a little enthusiastic than suffer the words of life to freeze on my lips. I am 
 sorry, in these days of delusion, to hear so many plead for moderation. Pray have 
 you read Dr. Witherspoon's Characteristics? If you have, you will find many char- 
 acters in this part of the world painted out very exactly. That little pamphlet I value 
 at a high price, and wish that every minister on the Continent would read it once a 
 month. My dear brother, we are engaged in a glorious cause, we have a good Master 
 to serve, and what shall hinder our being faithful V 
 
 In another letter, dated January 20th, 1769, he writes thus: — 
 
 " You mention that you hear that the Convention of Ministers in the Province have 
 actually voted to lay aside all creeds and confessions. I wish there was not too much 
 occasion/or such a report. They did not actually vote to lay aside creeds and con- 
 fessions.' They have been pretty generally laid aside; and the motion was to revive 
 them, and that candidates should be examined and introduced in the manner they are 
 in Connecticut. This was urged by Dr. Sewall and Mr. Pemberton; it was also 
 opposed by others; but, the forenoon being spent, a vote was desired whether the mat- 
 ter should be considered again after dinner, and passed quite full that it should not. 
 As soon as it was passed, one of the Convention declared his most earnest hope that 
 the matter might never be laid before the Convention again. However, he need not 
 have showed himself in that manner, for if it should be while the Convention consists 
 of ministers now upon the stage, there is no manner of prospect that a vote can be 
 obtained to bring creeds and confessions into use. 
 
 " You mention my being fixed in the midst of a crooked, &c. generation. I assure 
 you, it is a matter of wonder with me that the clergy are not farther from the charac- 
 ter of Gospel ministers; and I apprehend, if some reform is not come into a few gen- 
 rations, if salaries being small should not prevent it, the pulpits will frequently be 
 filled not only with Arminians, but professed Arians, Socinians, and even Deists them- 
 selves." 
 
 In another letter, dated Boston, 1 August, 1771, he writes, — 
 
 " I can but think good Van Mastricht is right in his sentiments about Regeneration 
 — it is a subject of great importance: I wish to understand it well, and constantly to 
 feel that Divine power which alone is sufficient to produce the change, operating on 
 my heart." 
 
 In a letter dated Boston, September, 6, 1771, he writes, — 
 
 " I have but just returned from the Eastern parts of this Province. I was invited 
 to attend as a member of a Council on some public business. We went about three 
 hundred miles, and had an opportunity of seeing how the poor people lived three or 
 four months out of twelve, upon potatoes and clams. I preached in some places 
 where there had not been a sermon preached for seven or eight years. It does, or at 
 least it should do, us good to see how many of our fellow creatures struggle for a very 
 subsistence." 
 
 I met Dr. Lathrop first in May, 1811, when I went to deliver to him 
 the letter missive, designed to secure his attendance at the second Council 
 at Coventry, in the case of the Rev. Abiel Abbot. I was accompanied 
 to his house by the Rev. Mr. Buckmiuster, who, I found, held him in high 
 veneration. Our call interrupted him in writing a Discourse which he 
 was to deliver a day or two after, at the Funeral of Dr. Eckley. He came 
 out of his study, habited in an old fashioned plaid gown, and almost the 
 first thing he said was that he had begun Dr. Eckley's Funeral Sermon, 
 but was making very poor headway in it, as his mind was not in working 
 order. His manners were full of simple kindness, and I thought him one 
 of the most venerable men in his appearance whom I had ever seen. He 
 came to Coventry as a member of the Council, and, being the oldest mem- 
 ber, was appointed Moderator. The feature of his character that now 
 
72 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 seems to me to have been most prominent there, was his love of peace, — 
 his earnest desire to avoid all needless occasion of offence. His prayers — 
 for I think I heard him pray more than once — were remarkable for their 
 simplicity, and the earnest tone in which they were delivered. I never 
 saw him after this, but when I became associated in the ministry with his 
 relative, the Rev. Dr. Lathrop, of West Springfield, I often heard him 
 speak of him in terms of affectionate regard, and he was never willing to 
 admit that he had departed much, if at all, from the accredited standard 
 of orthodoxy. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CHARLES LOWELL, D. D. 
 
 Cambridge, February 28, 1853. 
 
 My dear Sir: You asked me, some time since, to furnish you with my recol- 
 lections of Dr. Lathrop of Boston, and it has not been from any disregard to 
 your wishes, or want of affectionate respect for his memory, that I have not 
 done it at an earlier period. He comes up vividly before me, and the outline of 
 his character is indelibly impressed on my memory. 
 
 Dr. Lathrop was, in many respects, an uncommonly interesting man; — inter- 
 esting not from the fluency or wit or brilliancy of his conversation, although 
 his words were always wise and pleasant; but from the sweetness of his dis- 
 position, the gentleness of his manners, and the simplicity and purity of his 
 mind and heart. Whilst his age and the venerableness of his appearance 
 inspired respect and reverence, his benignant countenance, and gentle, winning 
 address, conciliated confidence and affection. There was a childlike simplicity 
 about him, without any thing of childishness, and a remarkable cheerfulness 
 without any thing of levity. I have often been with him alone and in com- 
 pany, and I feel assured that I never heard a word or witnessed an action from 
 him, that I could wish unsaid or undone. In his old age, he retained his 
 youthful feelings, and adapted himself wonderfully to circumstances in his 
 intercourse with his younger brethren. They could be as free with him, so 
 far as his seniority allowed them, as with one another. He used often to say 
 that, though he had lost all the associates and friends of earlier life, he did 
 not feel alone: his younger brethren supplied the places of those who were 
 gone, and he was hardly sensible of any difference. The truth is, his own 
 disposition, in a good measure, brought about this result. He made others 
 easy and happy by his intercourse with them, and there was a reflex influence 
 on himself. His junior brethren, to the close of life, sustained and cheered 
 him, under God, as Aaron and Hur held up the arms of Moses till the going 
 down of the sun. 
 
 In stature Dr. Lathrop was rather tall, his features were large, his eyes and 
 eyebrows dark, if not black. When I first knew him, he wore the full-bot- 
 tomed white whig, such as was usually worn by the elderly ministers of that 
 time; but some years before bis death, he wore his own hair, silvered by age, 
 extending over his neck behind, but not flowing. His countenance had the 
 floridness of a temperate and healthy old age. 
 
 It was my privilege to be with him in his last sickness, and to offer at his 
 bedside probably the last prayer he heard on earth. When I entered his 
 chamber, lie extended his hand to me, and smiled, as he had always smiled 
 when he met me; addressing me in words to this effect, — <<I am glad to see 
 you, my friend," adding, as alas! was manifest — « I am going; but I am not 
 afraid or unwilling to die." He continued to speak for some time in words 
 full of-consolation and hope; and, with such words upon his lips, he shortly 
 after breathed out his spirit. I am affectionately yours, 
 
 CHARLES LOWELL. 
 
JEREMY BELKNAP. 73 
 
 JEREMY BELKNAP, D. D* 
 
 1766—1798. 
 
 Jeremy Belknap, the eldest child of Joseph and Sarah (Byles) Bel- 
 knap, was born in Boston, June 4, 1744. His mother was a niece of the 
 celebrated Dr. Mather Byles, whose fame, as a wit at least, is well nigh 
 universal. His father's occupation was that of a leather-dresser and dealer 
 in furs and skins. Both his parents were members of the Old South 
 Church, were persons of most exemplary Christian character, and lived to 
 a good old age, to enjoy, for many years, the devoted filial attentions of 
 the subject of this sketch. 
 
 After having been, for some time, under the instruction of that cele- 
 brated teacher. Master Lovell, young Belknap entered Harvard College, 
 at the close of 1758, when he was only in his fifteenth year. His college 
 course was marked by exemplary diligence and great proficiency ; and some 
 of his literary exercises, that have been preserved, indicate that high sense 
 of obligation to do good, that was so strikingly manifested in his whole 
 subsequent life. He was graduated in July, 1762 ; and, immediately 
 after, took charge, as a teacher, of the grammar school at Milton. Here 
 he continued, with the exception of a brief interval during the next winter, 
 until March, 1764. He was greatly esteemed as a teacher, and enjoyed 
 the good will and confidence not only of his pupils, but of the whole com- 
 munity in which he lived. One of his pupils was Peter Thacher, after- 
 wards the Rev. Dr. Thacher of Brattle Street Church, Boston ; and, though 
 he was at the time only twelve years old, there grew up between him and 
 his teacher an affectionate intimacy, that was a source of mutual enjoyment 
 and benefit during the residue of their lives. 
 
 About the close of the year 1764, he undertook the instruction of an 
 English school at Portsmouth, N. H., and became a boarder in the family 
 of the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Samuel Haven. The next summer, he 
 accepted an invitation to take charge of a school at Greenland, a few miles 
 from Portsmouth ; and here he continued till he entered on the duties of 
 the ministry. In his theological course, which was prosecuted in connec- 
 tion with his duties as a teacher, he probably had some assistance from the 
 respectable clergymen in whose parishes he resided. 
 
 After his preparation for the ministry was considerably advanced, he 
 seems to have had serious doubts whether he was not disqualified for the 
 work, from the want of a renovated heart. In this state of mind, he 
 addressed a letter, indicating the utmost perplexity, to his unele, the Rev. 
 Dr. Byles, begging for his advice in reference to the painful circumstances 
 in which he found himself. The Doctor's answer, which is preserved, is 
 highly creditable to both his discretion and his piety. While it recognizes 
 the paramount importance of vital piety as a requisite for the sacred office, 
 it evidently shows that the writer believed that his young friend was unne- 
 cessarily writing bitter things against himself, and that he was looking for 
 
 • Memoir by his Granddaughter. — Dr. Kirkland's Fun. Serm. — Mass. Hist. Coll. VI. 
 
74 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 evidence of Christian character, which perhaps he had no right to expect. 
 The letter seems to have had some effect in relieving him from his appre- 
 hensions ; though it was riot without much trembling that he ventured to 
 hold fast to his original purpose of entering the ministry. In his reply to. 
 Dr. Byles, he says, — 
 
 " I hope your prayers and the prayers of my other friends have been presented on 
 the golden altar before the throne of God, and been acceptable to Him, as sweet 
 incense. Pray to God for me that I may not be mistaken in a matter of such ever- 
 lasting importance; that I may not build on a false foundation. I should be glad of 
 a personal converse with you on the important affairs of my soul and eternity, but am 
 afraid that I should not be able to express my thoughts with that freedom and ease 
 that you would expect and desire." 
 
 In November, 1765, he was invited to take charge of a grammar-school 
 iu Boston ; but he preferred his more quiet situation at Greenland, and 
 declined the invitation. About this time, however, he became deeply 
 interested in the school at Lebanon, Conn., then recently established by 
 the Rev. Eleazer Wheelock, for the education of the Indians ; and, for a 
 time, he had serious thoughts of connecting himself permanently with that 
 enterprise. Though some of his friends favoured the project, yet others, 
 and among them his own parents, strongly opposed it ; and the result was 
 that, after much reflection and consultation, he abandoned it altogether. 
 
 Of his views in entering the ministry he has left the following record : — 
 
 " It has been my constant, habitual thought, ever since I was capable of judging, 
 that I should preach the Gospel. With this view my parents educated me, and to 
 this my friends have often urged and persuaded me; but for a long time all these 
 things were in vain. I knew myself to be destitute of the grand fundamental qualifi- 
 cation of a true minister of the Gospel, and was determined never to undertake preach- 
 ing until I had obtained a hope in Christ. A glorious discovery of the riches and fine- 
 ness of Divine grace, and the infinite worthiness of the Lord Jesus Christ, which I 
 trust was made to my soul by the Holy Spirit, at once changed my views and dispo- 
 sitions; and, from that time, I devoted myself to the service of God, thinking it my 
 duty to glorify God in this way. My qualifications have been judged of by others. 
 My conscience acquits me of having any mercenary views: a decent, comfortable sub- 
 sistence, while I continue in this vale of tears, is all the present reward that I desire." 
 
 His first sermon was preached at Portsmouth in the pulpit of his friend, 
 the Rev. Mr. Haven, and, for several succeeding months, he was engaged 
 chiefly in preaching for his brethren in different parishes in that neighbour- 
 hood. His services met with uncommon acceptance ; and, in July, 1766, 
 he was invited to preach at Dover, as an assistant of the Rev. Mr. Gush- 
 ing,* who was disabled in a great measure, by bodily infirmity. He 
 accepted the invitation, and, before the close of the following winter, 
 received a formal call to settle as Mr. Cushing's colleague, which also, after 
 mature reflection, he accepted. There was, however, one difficulty in the 
 way of his acceptance of the call, which, but for their very strong attach- 
 ment to him, would probably have been insurmountable. The church had 
 been accustomed to receive members on the plan of the Half Way Cove- 
 nant; which, from a careful examination of the subject, he was fully per- 
 suaded was unscriptural and of evil tendency. He distinctly announced to 
 them that he could never practically recognize that principle, as a minister; 
 that " he could admit none to the privilege of communion, unless they gave 
 
 * Jonathan Cushing was a native of Hingham ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1712 ; 
 was ordained at Dover, N. H., September 18, 1717; and died March 25, 1769, aged seventy- 
 nine. 
 
JEREMY BELKNAP. 75 
 
 evidence sufficient for a charitable hope that they had believed in Jesus to 
 the saving of their souls." The church yielded to his wishes, and, from 
 that time, the Half Way Covenant had no existence among them. His 
 Ordination took place on the 18th of February, 1767. The Sermon on the 
 occasion was preached by the Rev. Mr. Haven, of Portsmouth. 
 
 In June succeeding his ordination, he was married to Ruth, daughter of 
 Samuel Eliot, a respectable bookseller, of Boston. 
 
 In 1772, in the prospect of a military review which was to take place at 
 Dover, he was requested, by his intimate friend, Captain Waldron, to 
 deliver a Discourse on the occasion. At first, he felt some conscientious 
 scruples, doubting whether, as a minister of the Prince of Peace, he could 
 consistently perform a service that might seem to lend some encouragement 
 to war; but, when it occurred to him, on further reflection, that the most 
 effectual way of preserving peace is to be ready for war, he waived his 
 objections, and acceded to his friend's request. The Sermon was delivered 
 in the presence of the Governor of the Province, and was afterwards, by 
 request of the officers, published. 
 
 Mr. Belknap was never otherwise than in straitened circumstances, 
 during the whole period of his residence at Dover. But it seems that then, 
 as in later years, the ladies were accustomed occasionally to make an extra- 
 ordinary effort in aid of the comfort of their minister and his family. 
 The following record by Mr. Belknap of a " spinning match at his house " 
 may give some idea of the manner in which these friendly offices were then 
 performed : 
 
 " After the laudable example of the ladies in divers towns of this and the neighbour- 
 ing Provinces, on Thursday last, about forty ladies met at the minister's house in Dover, 
 some of whom brought with them flax and cotton to spin, and others the yarn ready 
 spun ; and, after spending the day in a very industrious and agreeable manner, they 
 generously presented to Mrs. Belknap the fruits of their labour, which amounted to two 
 hundred and forty -two skeins, of seven knots each, beside the surplus of their mate- 
 rials, which the time did not allow them to spin. They behaved with the utmost order 
 ■ and decency, and were entertained with the best refreshments the season afforded, 
 which were kindly and plentifully supplied by those who were well wishers to industry." 
 
 Mr. Belknap had been a diligent observer of that train of events in 
 which the Revolution had its origin ; and, with the spirit of an earnest 
 patriot, he was awake to every movement that betokened good or ill to his 
 country. Not only his voice but his pen was put in requisition in behalf 
 of the cause of freedom. During the excitement and distress occasioned 
 by the Boston Port Act, he made a most impressive appeal to the sympa- 
 thies of the people of New Hampshire, in aid of their afflicted friends of 
 the neighbouring metropolis ; and, about the same time, he wrote an 
 Address " To the Gentlemen of the Army, now encamped on Boston Com- 
 mon," of the most home-thrusting and scathing character. Shortly after 
 the commencement of hostilities, and while Boston was guarded by the 
 British troops, he went thither in great haste, with a view to effect the 
 removal of his parents ; and, after a detention of some time in the neigh- 
 bourhood, he finally succeeded, though not without difficulty, in accomplish- 
 ing his object. They both subsequently lived with him at Dover. His 
 mother died in 1784, aged sixty-nine; his father in 1797, aged eighty-one. 
 
 In July, 1775, he was chosen, by the New Hampshire Committee of 
 Safety, to be Chaplain to their troops at Cambridge ; but, owing to hia 
 
76 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 precarious health, in connection with other circumstances, he felt constrained 
 to decline the proffered honour. He, however, intimated his willingness to 
 share such a service with the other ministers of the Province, provided 
 such an arrangement should be thought best. In October following, he 
 visited the camp at Cambridge, where he became acquainted with several 
 of the most distinguished officers of the army, and had the honour of dining 
 with Dr. Franklin, who was there on public business, as one of a Committee 
 from the Continental Congress. 
 
 In July, 1784, he made a tour to the TVhite Mountains, in company with 
 six other gentlemen, — which, at that time, might well deserve to be com- 
 memorated as a feat in the line of travelling. Accordingly, we find that 
 he has actually preserved a record of it, in considerable detail, in his third 
 volume of the History of New Hampshire ; though he makes no allusion to 
 the circumstance of his having himself been one of the party. 
 
 In June, 1785, he preached the Annual Election Sermon before the 
 General Court of New Hampshire, which was published. The subject of 
 it was "the True Interest of the State, and the Best Means of Promoting 
 its Prosperity." It is a highly patriotic and well-reasoned production, 
 and contains sentiments worthy to be pondered and reduced to practice by 
 each successive generation. 
 
 In the autumn of the same year, Mr. Belknap made a journey to Phila- 
 delphia, chiefly with a view to visit his son, who had been sent thither to 
 learn the printer's trade. He was treated in Philadelphia, as well as the 
 intervening places at which he stopped, with great respect and attention. 
 He preached for several distinguished clergymen, of different denominations,' 
 and was delighted with what seemed to him evidence of a growing spirit of 
 charity. It tells well for the spirit of enterprise in the department of trav- 
 elling, at that early day, that he left New York in the stage-coach between 
 three and four in the morning, and was safely set down in Philadelphia at 
 sunset. 
 
 From the commencement of his ministry at Dover, he had been subjected 
 to no little pecuniary embarrassment, by reason of the failure of his congre- 
 gation to fulfil their engagement in respect to his salary. At length the 
 evil became so great that he felt that both his duty and his interest forbade 
 his farther endurance of it. Accordingly, in September, 1786, he resigned 
 his pastoral charge. He had, at the time, no other place of settlement in 
 his eye, while yet he had a family dependent for support 6n his exertions. 
 Several literary projects were proposed to him ; but, notwithstanding his 
 taste might be supposed to lead him in that direction, he declined them on 
 the ground that he had consecrated himself permanently to the Christian 
 ministry. 
 
 In 1784, his first volume of the History of New Hampshire was pub- 
 lished, under the superintendence of Ebenezer Hazard, Esq., of Philadel. 
 phia. The second and third volumes were published at Boston in 1791 
 and 1792. The idea of such a work seems to have occurred to him as 
 early as 1772; and it occupied his attention, in a greater or less degree, 
 from that time till its completion. The project at an early period found 
 favour with his friend Governor WentworthjTvho cheerfully gave him access 
 to his papers, and in every way lent him whatever aid was in his power. 
 
JEREMY BELKNAP. 77 
 
 A recent edition of the first two volumes of the work has been published, 
 with illustrative notes, by the late John Farmer. It is unnecessary to add 
 any thing in commendation of a work that has, like this, long since taken 
 its place among the standard productions in this department of our lite- 
 rature. 
 
 After resigning his charge at Dover, he preached successively, for some 
 time, at Exeter, Concord, Beverly, and some other places. While he was 
 at Exeter, an insurrection occurred there, which is somewhat memorable in 
 the annals of New Hampshire, and of which his History of the State con- 
 tains a minute and interesting account. The Church in Long Lane, (now 
 Federal street,) Boston, having exchanged the Presbyterian for the Con- 
 gregational form of government, and being at that time vacant, in conse- 
 quence of the Bev. Bobert Annan having been, a short time before, 
 dismissed, by his own request, Mr. Belknap was called, in January, 1787, 
 to take the pastoral charge of it. The engagement of the Society was as 
 follows : — • 
 
 " We promise to pay him for his support, from the time he commences his charge, 
 the sum of two pounds, eight shillings, lawful money, per week, or quarterly, if he 
 chooses it, during the whole time of his ministry among us; and, in case our society 
 shall increase, and the pews be all occupied, the salary shall then be increased to a 
 comfortable support." 
 
 Mr. Belknap, in due time, signified his acceptance of their invitation; 
 and he was actually installed as their Pastor on the 4th of April following. 
 Between the time of his acceptance of the call and his installation, a cir- 
 cumstance occurred which drew from him a distinct statement of his views 
 concerning the doctrine of retribution. An anonymous letter was addressed 
 to one of the Deacons of the church, intimating that the man whom they 
 had chosen to be their Pastor was a Cniversalist of the Murray school, 
 and recommending to them to propose to him certain questions with a view 
 to oblige him to declare himself. The letter was immediately put into his 
 hands, and, on the evening of the same day, when the committee met to 
 make the arrangements for his installation, he availed himself of the 
 opportunity to spread before them the anonymous communication, with the 
 comments which he thought proper to make upon it. He says,- — 
 
 " My practice has always been to study the Scriptures in order to And out truth and 
 duty. What there appears sufficient evidence fori admit as truth: where the evi- 
 dence is not sufficient to induce belief, I allow myself to doubt. This every man has 
 a right to do. 
 
 " As to the controversy about Murray, I never conversed with him but once— what 
 he said was new and strange. On examining my Bible, I saw no reason to admit it, 
 and therefore passed it by. 
 
 " Some years ago, Murray came into my parish. Some people wished to hear him, 
 and asked me for the liberty of the pulpit. I said it was mine when I wanted it, and 
 theirs when they pleased to use it. .They got him to preach. I did not attend; but, 
 understanding that he had been on the parable of the tares and wheat, I took the lib- 
 erty, as I thought was my duty, to preach the next Sabbath against what I deemed 
 the errors adopted by his followers." [Here he read the sermon.] " These were 
 then my sentiments, and they are the same now. I never had a doubt that faith, 
 repentance and holiness, or a change from a state of sin to newness of life, is neces- 
 sary to prepare us for Heaven. 
 
 " When the Chauncy controversy came abroad, which engaged every body's atten- 
 tion more or less, it was natural for me to incline to one side or the other. I was 
 inclined to call in question the immortality of the wicked in a state of future punish- 
 ment, though I had no doubt of the certainty of the punishment. There are difficul- 
 ties attending the subject on every side in which it can be viewed; and, after much 
 thought upon the matter, I am inclined to this opinion ; — that the revelation which 
 
78 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 God has given us in the Scriptures is intended to regulate our present conduct in this 
 world, and to give us to understand what will be the consequences, in the future state, 
 of our good and bad behaviour here. 
 
 " I believe the resurrection of the just and the unjust ; that the life which the just shall 
 receive from Christ at their resurrection will be immortal; and that they shall never 
 die any more ; but doubt whether it can be proved from the Scriptures that the life 
 which the wicked shall receive at their resurrection is immortal — if it can, it will fol- 
 low that their misery will never end; — but am rather inclined to think that the life 
 which they will then receive will be a mortal life, that they will be subject to a series of 
 misery and torment which will terminate in a second death. Whether this second death 
 is an utter extinction of being, or whether they will be delivered from it by another 
 resurrection, are points which I cannot determine, nor do I think the Scripture affords 
 us full satisfaction on these subjects ; so that I expect no full solution in this world, 
 and am fully contented with believing that the surest way for us is to believe in Christ, 
 to fear God, and work righteousness in obedience to the Gospel, and thus secure our 
 own happiness, without prying too curiously into the secret and future designs of God. 
 The Apostles themselves declare, — ' We know but in part, and we prophecy but in part.' 
 If the chosen and inspired ambassadors of Jesus Christ were imperfect in their know- 
 ledge, how can we expect perfection in this life? 
 
 " If, upon this declaration of my mind, you see fit to recommend to the Society to 
 recall the invitation they have given me to settle with you, I am content." 
 
 The committee, though some of them differed from him in respect to 
 the general subject, were yet so far satisfied with this exposition of his 
 views, that they proceeded without delay to make the necessary arrange- 
 ments for his induction to his charge. 
 
 For some time after his settlement at Boston, several circumstances con- 
 curred to render his worldly condition scarcely less easy than it had been 
 at Dover. He had been a loser rather than a gainer by publishing the 
 first volume of his History ; and his salary was altogether an inadequate 
 support for his family. In consequence of this, he consented to instruct a 
 few young men in his own house ; though this necessity continued but a few 
 years, as the ability of the Society had so far increased in 1792, that they 
 were enabled to advance his* salary to an adequate living. 
 
 In March 1789, he was sorely afflicted by the death of a beloved child. 
 
 He made the following affecting record of the event : — 
 
 " March 28: This evening, at half after nine o'clock, my dear son Samuel died, aged 
 seventeen years and three months. He had a long and painful illness, which he bore 
 with the most exemplary patience, and the nearer he approached towards his end, the 
 more did his patience shine. He had strong exercises of mind some weeks before his 
 death, and obtained a comfortable hope in the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, and 
 gave us very good satisfaction respecting his repentance and faith in Christ for salva- 
 tion. His senses held till a few minutes before he expired. I asked him whether he 
 could commit himself into the hands of Christ: he answered, with a strong and lively 
 voice, ' Yes.' I asked him if he had a good hope of the mercy of God in Christ: he 
 answered ' Yes.' I then prayed with him — this was about half an hour before he died. 
 Blessed be God for the consolation we have in his death. He was a faithful, useful, 
 diligent and affectionate child." 
 
 In 1792, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Diyinity from 
 Harvard College. His great modesty would have prompted him to decline 
 the honour, and he was actually on the point of doing it, when he was dis- 
 suaded by his friend Dr. John Clarke, on the ground that it would seem 
 ungrateful and uncivil toward the institution by which it had been conferred. 
 
 * Mr. Belknap had, for many years, been deeply interested for the freedom of the blacks. 
 The subject had occupied both his mind and his pen during the Revolutionary War ; but, in 
 the year 1788, he actually drew up a petition to the General Court for the abolition of the 
 Slave trade ; which, being seconded by his brethren in the ministry of various denominations, 
 as well as by a large number of other respectable citizens, actually prevailed to the pas- 
 sage of the desired Act. He afterwards corresponded on this subject with Moses Brown, the 
 well known philanthropist of Providence, and was elected a member of the Society for 
 Abolishing the Slave trade in Rhode Island. 
 
JEREMY BELKNAP. 79 
 
 In the course of this year he published a work, entitled " The Foresters: 
 an American Tale ; being a Sequel to the History of John Bull the clothier, 
 in a series of Letters to a Friend." The Letters were originally a con- 
 tribution to the Columbian Magazine ; but were subsequently collected into 
 a volume, and, in that form, passed through two editions. The work is 
 full of humour, and is occupied chiefly with an account of the early settle 
 ment of the country, and the troubles to which we were subjected from 
 our connection with Great Britain. 
 
 Dr. Belknap's taste for historical research gave rise to that noble institu- 
 tion, — the Massachusetts Historical Society. He projected the plan of it 
 as early as 1790, and in 1791 it was actually formed. It was incorporated 
 in 1794, with the Hon. James Sullivan, President ; the Rev. James Free- 
 man, Recording Secretary ; and Dr. Belknap, Corresponding Secretary. 
 In 1792, he delivered, by request of this Society, a Centennial Discourse, 
 designed to commemorate the Discovery of America by Christopher Colum- 
 bus. It was published, and is yet a substantial witness for its gifted and 
 accomplished author. 
 
 In 1794, he published the first volume of American Biography, entitled 
 "An Historical Account of those persons who have been distinguished in 
 America, as Adventurers, Statesmen, Philosophers, Divines, Warriors, 
 Authors, and other remarkable characters." He lived to complete the 
 second volume, but not to see it from the press, as the printing was in 
 progress at the time of his death. He seems to have projected this work 
 at least as early as 1779, and he must have been carrying forward this and 
 his History at the same time. A new edition of it was published in 1842, 
 with a highly commendatory preface from one who was well qualified to 
 judge of its merits. 
 
 In 1795, he published " Dissertations on the Character, Death, and 
 Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the Evidence of his Gospel ; with 
 Remarks on some sentiments in a book entitled ' The Age of Reason.' " 
 This work was especially aimed against the infidelity of the day, and, like 
 every thing from the pen of the same author, is characterized by great per- 
 spicuity and good taste. In the same year, he published his Hymn Book, 
 concerning which he says in his preface, — " In this selection those Chris- 
 tians, who do not scruple to sing praises to their Redeemer and Sanctifier, 
 will find materials for such a sublime employment; whilst others, whose 
 tenderness of conscience may oblige them to confine their addresses to the 
 Father only, will find no deficiency of matter suited to their idea of the 
 chaste and awful spirit of devotion." For many years this Collection was 
 extensively used, particularly in the churches of Boston and that vicinity ; 
 but, in latter years, it has given place, perhaps altogether, to more modern 
 compilations of a similar character. 
 
 In 1796, he preached the Annual Convention Sermon before the Con- 
 gregational Clergy of Massachusetts. In it he illustrates with great feli- 
 city the peculiar trials of ministers, especially as connected with the then 
 existing state of things. It shows that, with all the prudence that marked 
 Dr. Belknap's character, he was far enough from being lacking in inde- 
 pendence. 
 
80 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In the same year, he went, in company with Dr. Morse, in behalf of the 
 Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, to visit the Indians at 
 Oneida and Stockbridge, in the State of New York. Notwithstanding his 
 journey was a very pleasant one, the result of his visit to the Indians was 
 a full belief that little was to be hoped for in respect to civilizing or chris- 
 tianizing them. He withdrew from the Society shortly after, probably 
 from a conviction of the hopelessness of their enterprise. 
 
 For a year previous to his death, Dr. Belknap was in constant expecta- 
 tion of receiving his summons to depart. He had, in two instances, been 
 slightly affected by paralysis ; and, though neither his bodily nor his 
 mental powers had been impaired, he was well aware that the third attack 
 would, in all probability, terminate his life. And so it actually occurred. 
 In April, 1798, his friend, Dr. Clarke died, and he (Dr. B.) preached his 
 Funeral Sermon ; and, at the same time, prepared a brief sketch of his 
 life and character for the Collections of the Historical Society. Before 
 the volume was published, however, his own death had taken place, and 
 the memoir of his friend was followed immediately by a memoir of himself. 
 On the 20th of June, 1798, at four o'clock in the morning, he was attacked 
 with apoplexy, and before eleven he was a corpse. His Funeral was 
 attended on the 22d, and the Sermon on the occasion was preached by the 
 Rev. Dr. Kirkland. He left a widow and five children. Mrs. Belknap, 
 a lady of high intellectual and moral qualities, and greatly esteemed by a 
 large circle of friends, died January 20, 1809. 
 
 Dr. Belknap was connected with several important literary, philanthropic, 
 and religious institutions. He was an Overseer of Harvard College, a 
 member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, an honorary 
 member of the American Philosophical Society at Philadelphia, a member 
 of the Humane Society, &c. It was matter of conscience with him to dis- 
 charge the duties belonging to these various relations with the utmost 
 punctuality and fidelity. He was especially interested in improving and 
 extending the means of education ; and there are some living at this day, 
 who remember with the warmest gratitude the aid and encouragement 
 which they received from him in the progress of their early literary career. 
 
 In addition to the several works of Dr. Belknap, already referred to, 
 he published An Elegy on the Rev. Alexander Cumming, 1763 ; A Serious 
 Address to a Parishioner on the Neglect of Public Worship ; A Sermon 
 on Jesus Christ the only Foundation, preached before an Association of 
 Ministers in New Hampshire ; A Sermon at the Ordination of Jedediah 
 Morse, 1789 ; A Sermon on the National Fast, 1793. Two of his Ser- 
 mons on the Institution and Observation of the Sabbath were published 
 after his death, 1801. In addition to the above, he contributed exten- 
 sively to various periodicals of the day. 
 
 On several important points of Christian doctrine, Dr. Belknap's views 
 have already been sufficiently intimated. What he believed in respect to 
 the Trinity may, perhaps, be gathered, (at least negatively,) from some 
 remarks that he has left, explanatory of some speculations in which Dr. 
 Watts, towards the close of his life, indulged on the same subject. He 
 writes thus : — 
 
JEREMY BELKNAP. 81 
 
 " According to Dr. 'Watts' view of the present subject, — ' The Father, the Word and 
 the Holy Ghost, are the one living and true God.' To this proposition I give my ready 
 assent. And whoever does so, whatever be his peculiar mode of explication, I will 
 maintain has as just a claim to the character of Orthodox as they who do it in the 
 Athanasian sense. And for any who adopt that or any other mode of explication, to 
 monopolize orthodoxy to themselves, is a degree of presumption unbecoming fallible 
 creatures, especially those who allow that the mode of subsistence in the Sacred Three 
 is not ascertained in Scripture; and indeed it is inconsistent with the avowed Catholi- 
 cism of the ablest and best writers, who are most partial to the general Calvinistic 
 system. 
 
 " With respect to theideaof personality, as applicable to the Father, Son and 
 Spirit. Dr. Watts differed from many Trinitarians, as lie denied (and I think with 
 sufficient reason) that there are in Deity three distinct Infinite Spirits, or really 
 distinct persons, in the common sense of that term, each having a distinct intelligence, 
 volition, power, &c, thinking such a supposition inconsistent with the proper DNiTYof 
 the Godhead; which, is doubtless one of the most obvious and fundamental doctrines 
 of revelation. 
 
 But it is to be remembered that, with regard to the definition of personality, Trinitar- 
 ians widely differ among themselves. While some suppose it to be real, others think 
 it only modal or nominal ; and others somewhat between both. Some of the two latter 
 classes have charged the former with T ritheism ; and to me it seems difficult to clear 
 the doctrine from the imputation. Nor can I conceive what Tritheism is, if this hypoth- 
 esis does not come under the description. To assert a mere unity of essence or 
 nature will not obviate the difficulty; for three Divine persons or beings, though of 
 the same nature, or hi other words, all of them exactly alike, (which seems to be 
 the meaning of the term and is the popular idea,) would be as really three Gods, as 
 three human persons of the same nature, were they in all respects alike, would be three 
 men. Such a sentiment, I think, ought to be zealously opposed as heretical. 
 
 ******** * * 
 
 — '''As to those who use the common Trinitarian language in the Sabellian sense, 
 (which, upon a close inquiry, I have found to be the case with some, and have reason 
 to think it so with many,) they have little reason to cry out ' heresy' at the mode of 
 interpretation for which I am hero apologizing. 
 
 " That it should by any be stigmatized with the name either of Socinianism or 
 Arianism, appears to me perfectly uncandid and unjust. The Ante-Nicene fathers 
 adopted this hypothesis. And, if I understand the great Reformer Calvin aright, he, 
 in like manner, conceived of the Word and Spirit of God, as the Wisdom and Power 
 of Deity personified. The pious Mr. Baxter adopted a like personification, and 
 severely reproves those orthodox men, who anathematize them that espouse such a 
 mode of explaining the Trinity. Certain it is that Soeinians reject such kind of lan- 
 guage, and disavow the notion of a Trinity in any form ; not now to say any thing of 
 the atonement, which they universally deny, but which those I am defending as stren- 
 uously maintain. , 
 
 "As to Arians, properly so called, if I have any idea of their sentiments, they con- 
 sider the Logos and the Holy Spirit as created beings; which I think with Dr. Watts 
 is an error, most manifestly repugnant to Scripture doctrine. 
 
 ''It is true Dr. Watts maintained the man Christ Jesus to have been a created being. 
 But if, on that account, his followers are justly charged with heresy, I know not who 
 will be exempt; for I suppose all will allow that Christ was properly man, and as such 
 created. Some indeed maintain that he was a human person as really as any other 
 man is so, and on this ground deny that his Divinity was a real teeson, distinct from 
 that of the Father, (for otherwise there would be two persons in Christ,) while others 
 strangely and arbitrarily suppose (to avoid this last absurdity) that the manhood of 
 Christ was merely a created nature. But both allow ' the Deity of Christ to consist 
 in the union of the Godhead and the manhood in the person of Emanuel, so that in 
 Him God was manifest in the flesh.' This general argument I look upon as all that is 
 essential to true orthodoxy, and a sufficient bond of union. How much farther Christ- 
 ian charity may safely extend, it is not my present business to inquire." 
 
 The following estimate of Dr. Belknap's character, as a minister, is from 
 Dr. Kirkland'S Sermon at his Funeral. 
 
 " How he magnified the office of the Christian ministry, you and others who enjoyed 
 his ministrations, who joined in his prayers, who listened to his preaching, and saw 
 him in the private duties of his station, can better conceive than I describe. If a 
 judicious and seasonable choice of subjects, pertinency of thoughts, clearness of method 
 and warmth of application; if language plain and perspicuous, polished and nervous- 
 if striking illustrations, if evangelical doctrines and motives; if a seriousness and fer- 
 vour evincing that the preacher's own mind was affected; if a pronunciation free and 
 natural, distinct and emphatical, are excellences in public teaching, you, my brethren 
 
 Vol. VIII. 6 
 
82 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 of this society, have possessed them in your deceased pastor. Tour attention was 
 never drawn from the great practical views of the Gospel by the needless introduction 
 of controversial subjects, and your minds perplexed, nor your devotional feelings 
 damped, by the cold subtleties of metaphysic. His preaching was designed to make 
 you good and happy, and not to gain your applause; whilst the manner as well as 
 matter was suited to affect the heart, no attempt was made to overbear your imagina- 
 tions, and excite your passions by clamorous and affected tones. 
 
 " You are witnesses what is lost no less in private conduct and example, than in 
 public ministrations, how well his life became his doctrine; how the divine, moral and 
 social virtues appeared in him in the various scenes of life, in the hours of adversity 
 and in his intercourse with his people. You are witnesses how kind and inoffensive, 
 yet plain and sincere, was his demeanour towards you ; how tender and sympathetic 
 were his feelings ; for he could say, — ' Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is 
 offended and 1 burn not? Have I not wept with him who was in trouble?' You are 
 witnesses how useful was his conversation, how simple and unaffected were his manners. 
 The sick are witnesses of his attention, his fidelity, and tenderness, in comforting the 
 believing, in warning the sinner, and confirming the doubtful. The unreasonable and 
 censorious are witnesses of his patience and indulgence; the unbelieving of his desire 
 to convince them ; the afflicted and despondent of the sweetness of his consolations and 
 his gentle encouragement; the poor of Ms ready advice and assistance, and, to the extent 
 of his abilities, his alms; the rich of his Christian independence united with a becoming 
 complaisance; and the profligate of bis grief for their depravity, of his utter disappro- 
 bation of their characters." 
 
 FROM THE HON. JOSIAH QUINCY, LL. D., 
 
 PRESIDENT OF HARVARD COLLEGE. 
 
 Boston, 28th February, 1848. 
 
 Dear Sir: I have but recently received your favour requesting my personal 
 reminiscences of Dr. Belknap. They are few, and will add little to the knowl- 
 edge of his character, which may be gathered- from the Memoir of him pub- 
 lished by his granddaughter, and from contemporaneous notices. 
 
 The habit of his body was plethoric, and indicated a. tendency to apoplexy, 
 of which he died. His general aspect was heavy, and of that mixed impres- 
 sion conveyed by an acquaintance with mankind, superinduced on a, studious 
 and retired life. There was a suavity in his manner, which won an interest 
 for what he said, combined with a simplicity both of language and bearing, 
 the effect of which I cannot better express than by calling it taking. 
 
 In conversation he was unobtrusive, never assuming to lead, and his par- 
 taking in it seemed rather a deference to the apparent expectation, or expressed 
 wish, of others, than any particular desire of his own. When he did speak, 
 he never failed to satisfy; for it was always to the point, often pithy, and, if 
 the subject admitted, a flash of wit would enliven.his thought, and show that 
 an electric power resided under that heavy and clouded brow. Kindness and 
 good-humour predominated both in his look and address. He possessed a 
 natural vein of humour, of which something is shown in his Tale of << The 
 Foresters," and which, when touched by the occasion, gave a quiet, yet stimu- 
 lating, raciness to his remarks. 
 
 To young men — and I speak from knowledge in this respect, for I stood in 
 that relation to him— his affability was uniform and encouraging, and he could 
 adapt himself with facility and felicity, in conduct and conversation, to their 
 years and their measure of information. 
 
 Of his attainments and qualities as a divine or a scholar, I do not pretend 
 here to give an opinion. I confine myself, as you requested, to my << personal 
 reminiscences." 
 
 Undoubtedly he was a man greatly respected and beloved by his contem- 
 poraries. He filled a wide space in the history of his own time, which the 
 events of the future, however crowded may be the canvass with distinguished 
 men, cannot wholly obliterate from memory. I am, Sir, with respect, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 JOSIAH QUINCY. 
 
JOSEPH THAXTER. 83 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Brookline, May 20, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: I was contemporary with Dr. Belknap in the ministry a little 
 more than a year. My acquaintance with him was, by no means, intimate, 
 but I knew enough of him to form a definite idea of his character, and to learn 
 to regard him with very high respect. His features were small, and his face 
 much pitted with the small-pox. His talents and acquirements were univer- 
 sally acknowledged to be of a high order, and few of his contemporaries in 
 the ministry shared more largely than he in public favour. His prayers in 
 public were but little varied, and he was almost motionless in the pulpit. 
 Scarcely did he appear even to move his lips. Still he was always listened to 
 with attention, on account of the vigorous tone of thought, and perspicuity 
 of expression, which pervaded all his public performances. As a striking 
 instance of both his reserve in speaking and his facility in writing, Dr. Free- 
 man, who knew him intimately, told me that, in << Society meetings," he 
 would often choose to express what he had to say to a neighbour by writing 
 rather than by speaking. 
 
 One of Dr. Belknap's most intimate friends was Dr. Clarke, whom he sur- 
 vived only about twelve weeks. Never shall I lose the impression of the 
 touching and beautiful tribute which Dr. Belknap paid to the memory of his 
 friend at the next Thursday Lecture after their separation took place, when he 
 took for his text that tender and beautiful expression of our Saviour concern- 
 ing Lazarus, — " Our friend — sleepeth." His whole heart was in his utterances, 
 and the whole audience seemed moved by a common sympathy. 
 
 Very sincerely yours, 
 
 JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 JOSEPH THAXTER * 
 
 1771—1827. 
 
 Joseph Thaxter, the eldest son of Deacon Joseph and Mary (Leavitt) 
 Tliaxter, was born in Hingham, April 23, 1742. When he was five years 
 old, he was confined for a long time, by a fever-sore upon his ancle, and 
 during this period began to evince a fondness for study, that formed one 
 of the prominent characteristics of his subsequent life. His father was a 
 farmer in comfortable worldly circumstances, but was not able to gratify his 
 son's desire for a liberal education. The son, however, succeeded, in a some- 
 what singular way, in accomplishing the object for himself. By the strict- 
 est economy he was enabled to lay by for himself the sum of five dollars, 
 and with this purchased a ticket in a lottery, which drew a prize of five 
 hundred dollars. Immediately after this, he commenced a course of study 
 preparatory for College, and, in due time, entered at Harvard, and, by the 
 most careful management, in connection with teaching a school at Hingham 
 and one or two other places, and the performance of certain services in 
 College for which he received compensation, he was enabled to pass through 
 the whole course without any material interruption, and graduated in 1768. 
 
 * Mss. from his daughter, Mrs. Athearn. 
 
84 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 It seems to Lave been his original intention to enter the medical profes- 
 sion, and, for some time after he graduated, his studies were directed with 
 reference to that ; but he subsequently changed his purpose, and determined 
 to devote himself to the Christian ministry. Accordingly, having prose- 
 cuted his theological studies for some time under the direction of the Kev. 
 Dr. Gay, in his native place, he was licensed to preach, and actually com- 
 menced preaching, sometime in the year 1771. 
 
 It is not known where Mr. Thaxter exercised his ministry for some time 
 after-he began to preach, but it is known that, from the commencement of the 
 Revolution, he took a deep interest in the cause of his country's Indepen- 
 dence, and was ready to labour for it, in the pulpit or out of it, as he found 
 opportunity. He was present at the battle of Bunker Hill and of Concord 
 Bridge, and retained a vivid remembrance of those fearfully stirring scenes 
 till the close of life. On the 23d of January, 1776, he received a com- 
 mission as Chaplain in the army, and served in that capacity at Cambridge, 
 in different parts of New Jersey, at the battle of White Plains in the State 
 of New York, and in various other places. The exact time of his holding 
 the Chaplaincy is not ascertained, but it is supposed to have been for two 
 or three years. Previous to his settlement, he preached as a candidate in 
 a rich farming town on Connecticut River. The Committee of the Church 
 or Parish informed him that he was invited, by a unanimous vote, to become 
 their Pastor. He afterwards learned, however, that this statement was not 
 strictly correct, there having been one or two votes adverse to his settlement ; 
 and so much was he displeased with what he deemed a deceptive represen- 
 tation of the case that he immediately wrote a sermon on the text, — "I 
 hear that there be divisions among you, and I partly believe it ;" and, 
 having preached the sermon, he very unceremoniously took leave of the 
 people. He accepted a call from the Church in Edgarton, Martha's Vine- 
 yard, and was ordained and installed there in the year 1780. His salary 
 was originally a hundred pounds annually, but, in the latter part of his 
 life, it was reduced to two hundred and seventy-five dollars. Small as it 
 was, however, he not only supported his family upon it, but educated five 
 orphan children. 
 
 Not far from the period of his settlement at Edgarton, he spent some 
 time as a missionary in what was then the District of Maine. He was 
 received with great favour by all classes, and in one town administered i 
 Baptism to more than a hundred persons, many of whom belonged to Epis- 
 copal families. Of this mission he retained the most grateful recollections 
 till the close of life. 
 
 Mr. Thaxter, some time previous to his settlement, had become strongly 
 attached to a young lady in Hingham, who he had expected would become 
 his wife ; but she died shortly after, to his great grief and disappointment. 
 At his Ordination, his father and some other relatives from Hingham were 
 present, and, after the services were over, he accompanied them to the 
 wharf, saw them safely on board the packet, and then returned to his 
 boarding house, oppressed with a sense not only of responsibility but of 
 isolation and loneliness. A young lady who was visiting in the family in 
 which he boarded, (Molly, daughter of Robert Allen of Chilmark,) met 
 him with great kindness, and proffered to him her sympathy in view of his 
 
JOSEPH THAXTER. 85 
 
 manifest feeling of desolation, and her kindly expressions touched a respon- 
 sive chord in his heart, and thus began a friendship which resulted in their 
 being married within about a year, — October 12, 1781. They had seven 
 children, three of whom — and among them the Hon. Leavitt Thaxter — 
 still (1863) survive. Mrs. Thaxter, who was a lady of great benevolence 
 and excellence of character, died in 1802, at the age of forty-four. On 
 the 23d of July, 1803, Mr. Thax+er was married to Ann, daughter of Sam. 
 uel Smith, who became the mother of one daughter, and died in 1821, aged 
 fifty-nine years. 
 
 Mr. Thaxter suffered some other severe domestic afflictions. .One 6f his 
 children, Robert, a boy of uncommon promise, died of lockjaw, iri March, 
 1805, having been blind, for two years, in consequence, as was supposed, of 
 his having taken of a poisonous vegetable. In February, 1815, he lost his 
 eldest son, Joseph, under circumstances of the most trying nature. A whale 
 ship had arrived at Edgarton, and two of the crew, who belonged in Nan- 
 tucket, were very anxious to reach their homes. Joseph Thaxter, who 
 was, at that time, a married man, and lived with his father, started, in an 
 open boat, in company with another person, to carry them to Nantucket. 
 The boat had come within a quarter of a mile of the Nantucket shore, 
 when it was upset amidst thick broken pieces of ice, and all were lost except 
 Mr. Thaxter's friend who had accompanied him, and who, by great exertion, 
 succeeded in reaching the shore. Two weeks and two days passed, and no 
 tidings came concerning any of the party. But, on the morning of the 
 seventeenth day, as Mr. Thaxter rose from his knees, at the close of his prayer 
 in the family, one of the Deacons of his church entered the room in which 
 the family were assembled, with an air and a look ominous of evil tidings. 
 Not a word was spoken until Mr. Thaxter at length nerved himself to 
 ask, — 'Are those poor creatures gone?" — to which Dr. Mayhew sadly and 
 silently bowed his assent. In the afternoon of the same day, the remains 
 of the son were brought over the deep banks of snow to be buried from his 
 father's house. As the roads were nearly impassable, it was impossible to 
 procure a minister from another town to attend the Funeral, and the service 
 was therefore performed by the afflicted father himself. The prayer which 
 he offered on the occasion is said to have been characterized by great sim. 
 plicity, and yet by the very sublimity of pathos. 
 
 There was but little variety in the events of Mr. Thaxter's life, living 
 
 as he did in great seclusion, and scarcely ever engaging in any service that 
 
 took him beyond his immediate neighbourhood. Towards the close of his 
 
 life, however, an event occurred, of great historical interest, in his being 
 
 called upon, on the 17th of June, 1825, to officiate as Chaplain at the 
 
 laying of the corner-stone of the Bunker Hill Monument. This was the 
 
 last time that he ever left the Island. The following Prayer, which he 
 
 offered on that occasion, derived additional impressiveness from the fact that 
 
 he had then passed his eightieth year: 
 
 "0, thou who rulest in the armies of Heaven, and doest whatsoever seemeth to thee 
 good among the children of men below, we desire, at this time, to remember thy loving 
 kindness to our pious ancestors in rescuing them from a land of intolerance and per- 
 secution. "We thank thee that thou didst conduct them in safety through the mighty 
 deep to this then howling wilderness; that thou didst protect and defend them when 
 few and helpless. We thank thee that, by thy blessing on their endeavours and 
 labours, the wilderness was soon made to blossom like the rose. We thank thee that 
 
86 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 thou didst animate them with an invincible attachment to religion and liberty, — that 
 they adopted such wise institutions. We thank thee that they so early established our 
 University, from which have flowed such streams as have made glad the cities of our 
 God; that thou hast raised up of our own sons, wise, learned and brave, to guide in 
 the great and important affairs both of Church and State. May thy blessing rest on 
 that Seminary, and continue it for a name and praise as long as sun and moon shall 
 endure. We thank thee that, by the wisdom and fortitude of our fathers, every 
 attempt to infringe our rights and privileges was defeated, and that we were never in 
 bondage to any. We thank thee that, when our country was invaded by the armies 
 of the mother country, thou didst raise up wise counsellors and unshaken patriots, 
 who, at the risk of life and fortune, not only defended our country, but raised it to the 
 rank of a nation among the nations of the earth. We thank thee that thou hast 
 blessed us with a constitution of government, which, if duly administered, secures to 
 all, high and low, rich and poor, their invaluable rights and privileges. We ask thy 
 blessing on our President and Congress, on our Governors and Legislators, on our 
 Judges and all our civil officers. Make them, we beseech thee, ministers of God for 
 good to thy people. Bless the ministers of the Gospel, and make them happy instru- 
 ments in thine hands for destroying Satan's Kingdom, and building up the Re- 
 deemer's. We thank thee that, in thy good providence, we are assembled to lay the 
 foundation of a monument, not for the purpose of idolatry, but a standing monument 
 to the rising and future generations, that they may be excited to search the history of 
 our country, and learn to know the greatness of thy loving-kindness to our nation. 
 May the service of this day be performed under the most profound awe of thy glorious 
 Majesty, and be an acceptable sacrifice. We thank thee for the unparalleled progress 
 and improvement in arts and sciences, in agriculture and manufactures, in navigation 
 and commerce, whereby our land has become the glory of all lands. We thank thee 
 that the light which came from the East, and has enlightened the Western world, is 
 now reflected back, and that the nations of Europe are now learning lessons of wisdom 
 from our infant nation. We pray thee that these rays may be spread and shine wit!i 
 greater power, until the rod of oppression shall be broken through the whole world 
 and all mankind become wise, and free, and happy. We humbly ask and offer all i i 
 the name of Jesus Christ, our great and glorious Mediator, through whom be glory 
 unto God the Father, now and forever, Amen." 
 
 Mr. Thaxter continued to enjoy his usual health until within about a 
 year of his death. The disease of which he died was a chronic diarrhea, 
 which gradually reduced his strength until he became no longer capable of 
 any physical effort. He was not actually taken off from his labours until 
 a few weeks previous to his death. The last Sabbath that he preached, he 
 administered the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and, in the afternoon, 
 during the first prayer, he fell in the pulpit. Several persons went to his 
 assistance, and, in a short time, he had so far revived as to be able, leaning 
 on the arm of a friend, to walk out of the church. As he passed down 
 the aisle, he bowed to the people on either side, and, as if conscious that 
 he was taking his final leave of them, said, — " Farewell, my dear friends, I 
 hope I shall meet you all in Heaven." From this time he declined rapidly 
 until, at length, he fell into a lethargy, from which he never awoke except 
 for a few moments — and then to fall into it again— just before he breathed 
 his last. He died on the 18th of July, 1827, aged eighty-three years. A 
 Discourse was delivered at his funeral by the Rev. Seth F. Swift, of Nan- 
 tucket, from the text, — " Remember them which have the rule over you," &c. 
 
 Mr. Thaxter's only publication, so far as is known, was a Catechism for 
 Sabbath Schools. 
 
 The following letter (without date) was addressed by Mr. Thaxter, 
 shortly after the commencement of the present century, to his son Leavitt, 
 who was, at that time, a teacher in one of the Southern States : 
 
 My dear Son : I early devoted you to God. I have spared no pains nor expense 
 to qualify j r ou to act your part gracefully as a man and a Christian. By my 
 advice you have devoted yourself to the instruction of youth. The office is 
 
JOSEPH THAXTEK. 87 
 
 the most important and useful in which man can be employed. That ought 
 to be esteemed the mdst honourable which is most useful. It is so in the sight 
 of God. You will never view it then as a mean or low employment. Remember 
 the office will never honour you, if you do not do honour to that. It calls for 
 many acts of self-denial, or rather self-government. A firm and steady mind, 
 restraining and governing the passions and affections, is of infinite importance 
 in governing youth. Angry resentment for misconduct is wrong. The resent- 
 ment shown to misconduct should flow from benevolence. Such reproofs can 
 scarcely fail to make a deep and lasting impression upon the young and tender 
 mind. Let your government be mild but firm. Often threatening does no 
 good. It only tends to harden in disobedience. Those who will not be 
 reclaimed by mild and benevolent measures, are unfit for the society of virtu- 
 ous and well-disposed youth. Prudently point out the errors of such to their 
 parents or guardians, and take no severe measures without their positive 
 direction. If none are prescribed, lay the case before the Trustees, and leave it 
 to them to take such measures with the unruly as their wisdom shall direct. 
 You will find a variety of tempers, dispositions and geniuses. These will have 
 a peculiar effect on your own affections. We cannot avoid feeling peculiar 
 affection towards such as discover talents and virtuous dispositions. Hence, 
 you cannot guard too much against doing any thing through partiality. Let 
 nothing of this appear, especially in your public conduct. Let it be 'your great 
 object to awaken in every one an ambition to excel. Never mortify one who is 
 not so quick to conceive, but encourage all to persevering industry. 
 
 I trust it will be agreeable to the Trustees, in the plan of instruction, that 
 the Bible, that holy book, should, some part of it, be read every day", and that 
 prayer be attended at opening of school in the morning and closing it at night. 
 Let your prayer be short and pertinent, and with the most profound awe of 
 that great and holy Being " who cannot be deceived, neither mocked." It is 
 of the greatest importance that youth look up to their instructors as not only 
 the wisest, but the most pious and virtuous of men. Oh! my son, set a. good 
 example. While you devote all your faculties to teach them knowledge, strive 
 to inspire them with the purest sentiments of piety and religion. Remember 
 you are not only training them up for usefulness in life, but for eternity. 
 Nothing lays so sure a foundation for usefulness in life, as a mind deeply im- 
 bued with the principles of religion and morality. These are the only princi- 
 ples that can render us acceptable to God, or make us happy. 
 
 Is your task laborious? How gloriously does Heaven reward the task, when 
 your pupils go forth and become the ornaments of religion, the supports of 
 society, some to fill the Pulpit, some to shine at the Bar, and some to adorn 
 the Senate. My dear son, arouse all your faculties, keep a good conscience 
 toward both God and man, and you will meet the approbation of both God 
 and man, and be forever happy. 
 
 Be not less exemplary in your family. Let your house be a house of prayer, 
 a house of hospitality, — not a house of luxuries. Nothing enervates and 
 debauches the mind like luxury. It disqualifies for energetic exertion, brings 
 on a premature old age, and a train of evil that renders the close of life mis- 
 erable. 
 
 You have seen too much of the world not to expect to meet with many diffi- 
 culties and trials. Nothing but the principles of religion, deeply imbibed and 
 steadily practised, can afford you solid comfort. There is more comfort in 
 reflecting upon one hour spent in the fear of God, and the right discharge of 
 duty, than in a whole life spent in thoughtless vanity. We live in an age 
 when infidelity and enthusiasm have marred the peace of pure religion. Sec- 
 tarianism was never more prevalent. My dear son, avoid all parties in religion. 
 You have the Bible, which for many years I used to teach you, and remember 
 
88 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 it was your father's. But remember it is the word of God. Make that your 
 guide, and not the dogmas, creeds, and confessions of fallible mortals. You 
 have Wollaston, you have Stackhouse and Taylor. These are good helps to a 
 right understanding of the Scriptures. Use them as helps, but not as guides. 
 They are only the opinions and reasoning of fallible men — though learned 
 and wise, not infallible. The Bible is an infallible guide; though there are 
 some things hard to be understood — yet there is no doctrine or precept 
 necessary to salvation, but what is plain and easy to be understood. Never 
 enter into warm disputes on those points about which sectaries contend with 
 such bitterness that they lose the true spirit of Christianity; and, while their 
 heads are filled with clouds of mysticism, and the smoke of metaphysical 
 nonsense, their hearts are filled with uncharitableness and bitter annoyings. 
 Be on your guard, and never suffer yourself to engage in theological wrangling. 
 Always attend the public worship where the performances are tolerable. Hear, 
 but be careful to judge for yourself. Never admit into your creed a sentiment 
 that will excuse the least immorality. I knew the time when patriotism was 
 a stable and fixed principle, when the good of our country was near the heart 
 of every true American. This produced the most heroic exertion till our 
 Independence was established, and a constitution of government formed that 
 was the admiration of the world. The times are altered. The loaves and 
 fishes are now the objects of what is called patriotism, but falsely so called. 
 The flood of foreigners which has flowed in upon us from the monarchical 
 states of Europe, have had the unhappy effect of producing a mixed medley 
 of politics. Hating monarchy and declaiming against it does not constitute a 
 true republican. It requires much thought and long habit to constitute a true 
 republican. You have been educated in the principles of true republicanism, 
 and must know that it is as opposite to unlimited democracy, as it is to mon- 
 archy. Party politics will, sooner or later prove the overthrow of our repub- 
 lican government. In your situation of life, I think it of the greatest importance 
 that you carefully avoid party politics. But be diligent to qualify your pupils 
 to judge for themselves. It does not require a spirit of prophecy to foresee 
 that the present state of things cannot long exist. Sooner or later a revolution 
 must take place. The heterogeneous mass of the Southwest, of Spaniards, 
 Frenchmen, &c. &c, can never amalgamate with the stern morals of republi- 
 canism of the Eastern States. God only knows how soon an explosion may 
 take place, and a flood of human blood be shed. My dear son, keep to your 
 own business as an instructor of youth, and have nothing to do with politics 
 or wars. Trust in God to protect and defend you — while you adhere to the 
 principles of piety, virtue, integrity and uprightness, you will have nothing 
 to fear. There is a proper respect to be shown to the dignity of human 
 nature, from the prince on the throne to the beggar on the dung-hill. No 
 human being is an object of contempt, till he makes himself so, by an impious 
 and wicked life. And even then he is an object of pity, whom we are bound 
 to instruct, and, if possible, reform. There are various grades in society — 
 a just and proper respect is due to every one. Vain adulations are the oppo- 
 site to contemptuous sneers, and never to be indulged by a wise and virtuous 
 man. No sooner do you fall into the practice of flattering the great than you 
 become a slave. And if the great are wise and truly great, they will despise 
 you. It is only weak heads and bad hearts that are pleased with flattery. 
 All men have their hobby-horses. We may condescend to their humours, and 
 try to please them as far as can be done consistently with truth and a good 
 conscience. These are never to be sacrificed to please the greatest man on 
 earth. Bemember Joseph's reply to his mistress is applicable to every devia- 
 tion from the principles of rectitude, — << How can I do this great wickedness 
 and sin against God?" Let conscience be so much your master as never to 
 
JOSEPH THAXTER. 89 
 
 yield to that which is not just and right. Let your heart be established with 
 truth, and with unshaken firmness adhere to your duty. Though you may 
 meet with rubs, they will only serve to show the integrity of your heart, and 
 secure the confidence and friendship of every wise and good man. Let your 
 deportment be decent and firm, and your conversation such as becometh the 
 Gospel. Carefully avoid levity on one side and superstition on the other, for 
 " Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." 
 
 Time is of all things the most precious. I charge you to spend none of it 
 in gaming — what time you can spare from your studies and school, should be 
 employed in moderate exercise. I advise you to cultivate your own garden. 
 It will be an amusement, and afford much moral instruction; as weeds destroy 
 the-.fruit, so vicious thoughts and habits destroy piety and virtue. When 
 rooting up the weeds, look into your heart, and strive to root out every bad 
 affection. 
 
 Idle visits are very corrupting, and late hours are very injurious to health. 
 Be sparing of your visits; always let your conversation be discreet, and, if 
 possible, instructive. Never begin the practice of staying to a late hour — nine 
 o'clock ought to call you to your family and to your family duties. Regular 
 hours of sleep are as necessary as regular hours of food, to refresh the body. 
 Irregular hours are very injurious to the health, both of body and mind. 
 Regularity is the life of every thing, and gives every thing its proper time and 
 place, and keeps every thing in order. 
 
 Health of body and peace of mind constitute the happiness of man in the 
 present state. Temperance is not a single virtue. It is equivalent to self-gov- 
 ernment. He that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. The 
 passions and affections of human nature were planted within us by our benev- 
 olent Creator, for the wisest and best of purposes. They are the mainspring 
 of action. To regulate these is the office of reason, moral sense and conscience. 
 These the Apostle calleth the law in our minds. The former the law in our 
 members. These are only servants, and ought always to be kept under strict 
 government. 
 
 There can be no greater slavery or mean drudgery than to submit implicitly 
 to their impulse. The doctrine of self-denial taught us by our Saviour does 
 not require that our passions and affections should be banished from our 
 hearts, but ruled and governed by the dictates of reason and the precepts of 
 the Gospel. As, on the one hand, these teach us not to indulge them to excess, 
 so, on the other, not to use monkish austerities, but to be temperate in all 
 things. All true pleasure lies withy; the bounds of God's commandments. 
 Every intemperate indulgence mars true pleasure. Every excess, whether of 
 passion, affection, or appetite, has an unhappy effect on the human economy. 
 You will easily, from these observations, perceive not only the propriety, but 
 the importance of the exhortation of St. Paul, — •< Let your moderation be 
 known to all men." Nothing will be so effectual to promote health and long 
 life as to govern your passions, affections, and appetites, by the laws of reason 
 and the precepts of the Gospel. When we govern them by these, we do not 
 inflict a wound upon conscience, but take the surest and safest way to preserve 
 the peace of our minds. This is the primary reward of keeping God's com- 
 mandments, and gives a foretaste of the glorious reward of eternal life. 
 
 I know it has been held as a maxim that health and long life depend upon 
 climate. It is true that standing water, and sunken, swampy and marshy 
 places are unhealthy; they are peculiar to no particular latitude or climate, 
 and do not afford a sufficient argument to prove that health and lon°- life 
 depend on latitude or climate. It only proves that high and dry situations 
 with running streams, and good springs of pure water, are essential to health 
 and long life. I am induced to believe that health and long life depend much 
 
90 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 more on the mode of living. The opinion that distilled or ardent spirits are 
 necessary to health in warm climates, I believe is as erroneous as it is that 
 they are necessary in cold climates to keep us warm. Certainly nothing is 
 more erroneous. Every unnatural stimulant tends to bring on debility and 
 injure health. If you wish to enjoy health, totally abstain from all kinds of 
 ardent spirits. "A little wine for the stomach's sake " may be used at times. 
 Even this must be used with great moderation. High seasoned, rich food, I 
 believe, is more injurious in warm climates than in cold. Let your food always 
 be free from spices. These are unnatural and injurious in every climate. Let 
 your food be cooling, but nourishing. It is an undoubted fact that the Arabs 
 in Africa, many of them, live to a great age. This must be owing to their 
 living so much upon milk. Nothing is more nourishing. A tumbler of milk 
 ■ and water, in a warm climate, is of more value than a gallon of brandy grog. 
 Let it be a rule with you to make a free use of milk, or milk" and water. Of 
 bread and vegetables, I would say, nothing will tend more to preserve your 
 health, and give vigour to your mind. This is the surest way to escape the 
 shocking train of nervous affections which often render life a burden. My dear 
 son, follow these directions, and if the all-wise God shall see fit'to take you 
 out of the world in the midst of your days, you will not have the galling 
 reflection that you have been your own destroyer. There are other self-mur- 
 derers besides those who shoot, hang, or drown themselves. Those, who, by 
 their intemperance, shorten their days, are, in the sight of Heaven, self-mur- 
 derers. 
 
 Need I caution you against that false honour, which so frequently prevails, 
 of attempting to take the life of a man, especially of one who has been your 
 friend, because he has offended you. How often do such men rush to the bar 
 of the righteous Judge of the earth, uncalled for! Alas! the thought must 
 make the sober mind shudder. A heart full of envy and revenge will never be 
 admitted into heaven. Can this be bravery? No, it is madness — it is even 
 cowardice. The best way to answer slander and reproach is to live so that 
 none who know you will believe it. This is the best mark of a noble, great 
 and brave mind. 
 
 My dear son, we are soon to part, never to meet again in this world. 
 Receive this as the dying words of your father and best friend in this world. 
 It will never hurt you, if you follow it strictly. It will be a witness of your 
 father's love and fidelity to you at the last day, and I hope a witness for you, 
 to your and my joy. May God Almighty bless you, and take you into his 
 holy keeping, make you useful in life, and bring us to rejoice together in that 
 eternal world where all is peace and love! 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 JOSEPH THAXTER. 
 
 FROM THE REY. CALYIN LINCOLN. 
 
 Hingham, June 12, 1863. 
 My Dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Joseph Thaxter of Edgarton 
 commenced when I was quite young. Until very near to the close of life he 
 annually visited his relatives in this town, preached one or two Sundays in 
 the church where I attended meeting, and usually spent several hours at my 
 father's house. He was social and unreserved, and consequently revealed 
 himself to those who listened to his conversation. When I first knew him, 
 his whole appearance was suited to arrest attention, and to impress itself on 
 the memory. I then" thought him an old man. His head was white with age, 
 his step was quick and nervous, but irregular from a wound received when he 
 served as Chaplain or Surgeon — for he held both offices — in the army of the 
 
JOSEPH THAXTER. 91 
 
 Revolution; and his apparel was fashioned after the style adopted by the 
 clergymen of a preceding generation. Thus he presented to my mind a striking 
 resemblance to portraits which I had seen of Gay and Watts and Chauncy, — 
 men who wore large white whigs and three cornered hats. Mr. Thaxter was 
 a man of quick sensibility, ready sympathy, and of a strong emotional nature. 
 Kindness melted his heart and won his love, and injustice at once aroused his 
 indignation. For the inhabitants of his island home, and his native town, he 
 ever cherished an affectionate regard. He would walk miles to call on one 
 who had been a parishioner at Edgarton; and every person from his birth 
 place, — whether visiting the Vineyard in pursuit of pleasure or employment, — 
 was sure of a cordial welcome to the comforts of his home and the hospitalities 
 of his table. 
 
 He was a man of active habits and persevering industry. << I performed " 
 (he one day remarked) " one fifth part of the labour in building my house, 
 from the bottom of the cellar to the top of the chimney; and, for several years, 
 I was the only minister, and the only physician, on the Island; and I never 
 refused a call to visit the sick, or to attend a funeral, in either, of the three 
 parishes." • 
 
 Although his situation required a great diversity of cares and labours, he 
 always maintained scholarly habits — he loved books and enjoyed taxing his 
 mind with close and earnest thinking. His sermons were composed with care 
 — his style was sententious, and his delivery marked by great earnestness. 
 He lamented his comparative isolation from books, and the society of literary 
 men and theologians. " Your ministers," referring to those in the neighbour- 
 hood of Boston, "ought to be unspeakably ashamed, if, with their superior 
 advantages, their sermons are not richer in thought than those prepared in my 
 secluded study." 
 
 Simple in his tastes and cautious in his expenditures, with a salary which, 
 in these days, would be pronounced wholly unequal to the support of a family 
 in any section of New England, Mr. Thaxter managed his affairs so skilfully 
 that he closed his ministry in possession of a moderate competency — indeed, 
 through life, he was free from those pecuniary embarrassments, which not 
 unfrequently depress the spirits, disturb the thoughts, and materially impair 
 the usefulness of the Christian minister. While thus strict as' an economist, 
 his spirit was untainted by meanness or avarice. He considered the poor, and 
 cheerfull}"- gave his time and labour for the relief of the suffering. The mas- 
 ter of a Nantucket whale-ship related the following occurrence in nearly these 
 words: — "I was once unlading my vessel at Edgarton, when one of the 
 younger sailors fell between the ship and the wharf and broke his collar-bone. 
 As Mr. Thaxter was considered the best surgeon on the Island, I immediately 
 took the boy to his house. The old gentleman was at breakfast. On learning 
 the object of my call, he left the table, and very promptly adjusted the frac- 
 tured bone. To my question, — ' What shall he pay you, Sir? ' — he answered, 
 • If he is rich, seventy-five cents — if ho is poor, nothing.' I replied, — < He is 
 rich, or I will be rich for him.' " 
 
 During the earlier years of his ministry, his parish was comparatively large 
 and wealthy — in later life, he suffered severely from that variety of opinion 
 which has so generally prevailed, and so frequently broken the integrity of 
 our once united Congregational churches. He looked upon his flock as his 
 family, and the alienation of a member of his congregation he compared to the 
 loss of a child. I once heard from him the following statement. Efforts had 
 been made to establish a Society of another denomination : and a distinguished 
 clergyman from the city was now on the Island to co-operate in executing the 
 design. Mr. Thaxter was invited to call on this gentleman at the house of a 
 parishioner. After the customary salutations and inquiries he thus addresse'd 
 
92 
 
 UNITARIAN- CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 the stranger. << Dr. around me are the parents whom I joined in mar 
 
 riage, and the children whom I baptized, — for whom I have watched and 
 prayed with the solicitude of a father; and now, Sir, if you have come here to 
 embitter the last days of an old man, by alienating the affections of his people, 
 I cannot find words strong enough to express my indignation at your purpose." 
 In theology Mr. Thaxter belonged to the Arminian school. With others of 
 this class, at that period in the history of opinions, he ascribed an efficacy to 
 the Saviour's death, in procuring the salvation of the sinner, beyond that of 
 its instrumentality in reconciling the human to the Divine will. Of the nature 
 of Christ, his views corresponded with those which have been usually known 
 as Arian. Speaking of another clergyman, somewhat remarkable for his 
 instability, I once heard him use this language — << I have known him a Trini- 
 tarian, — little better than a Tritheist — I have known him a Socinian, little 
 better than a Deist." 
 
 ^Tith great respect, I am yours sincerely, 
 
 CALVIN LINCOLN. 
 
 JOHN ELIOT, D. D * 
 
 1776—1813. 
 
 John Eliot was born in Boston, May 31, 1754. He was the fourth 
 son and seventh child of the Rev. Andrew Eliot, D. D., and Elizabeth 
 (Langdon) his wife. From his earliest years, he manifested an uncom- 
 monly amiable and gentle spirit, accompanied with great sobriety and con- 
 scientiousness ; and withal gave evidence of an inquisitive and vigorous 
 mind. His health, during his early youth, was very frail; so that his 
 friends scarcely expected that he would reach mature years. But, by the 
 blessing of God, attending the utmost parental care, his constitution gra- 
 dually acquired vigour, and he was spared much beyond the ordinary 
 period of human life. 
 
 At the age of seven years, he was placed at the North grammar-school 
 in Boston, where, in due time, he was fitted for college. He was admitted 
 a member of Harvard College in 1768, at the early age of fourteen. His 
 collegiate course was marked by the most exemplary moral deportment, by 
 great sweetness of temper, and uncommon diligence and proficiency in his 
 studies. He was graduated with the highest honour in 1772. Among 
 his classmates who were distinguished in after life, were Governor Eustis 
 and the first Governor Levi Lincoln. 
 
 Soon after his graduation, he took charge of a school in Roxbury, known 
 as the " Feofee Grammar School," where he remained one year. For 
 several months of the succeeding winter, he was employed in a similar way 
 at Dedham. His labours in the capacity of a teacher were highly appre- 
 ciated, being characterized alike by ability and fidelity. 
 
 Notwithstanding he had determined to devote himself to the ministry, 
 and had given some attention to theological studies, in connection with his 
 labours as an instructor, he was unwilling to enter upon his profession, until 
 he had had the benefit of a more mature course of preparation. Accordingly, 
 
 * Brief Memoir of Dr. Eliot. — Mass. Hist. Coll., Vol. I, 2d series. — Lathrop's and Free- 
 man's Fun. Serin. 
 
JOHN ELIOT. 93 
 
 sometime during the second year after he graduated, he returned to Cam- 
 bridge with a view to the accomplishment of this object. He continued there 
 until the army took possession of the students' rooms, with their contents, 
 in the spring vacation of 1775. In consequence of some efforts that he 
 made to recover the property in his chamber, he was suspected by some of 
 being unduly attached to the interests of Great Britain, and was even 
 openly, though unjustly, charged with being a Tory. The truth seems to 
 have been that a considerable number of his friends, for whom he enter- 
 tained a high regard, were strongly in the royal interest ; and the fact that 
 he was unwilling to abjure, distinctly and formally, his social relations 
 with them, was probably the head and front of his offending against the 
 claims of an honourable patriotism. 
 
 After being dislodged at Cambridge, he seems, for nearly a year, to 
 have had no fixed residence. Part of the time he passed at Milton, and 
 part at Braintree in the family of the late Hon. Kichard Cranch, for whom 
 he always entertained the most profound and grateful regard. He also 
 paid several visits to the Bev. Dr. Belknap, then of Dover, N. H., after- 
 wards of Boston, with whom he contracted an affectionate intimacy, that 
 was broken only by death. The two possessed, in many respects, similar 
 tastes, and were afterwards efficient coadjutors in the then comparatively 
 new field of historical and biographical research. 
 
 In the latter part of 1775, or the beginning of 1776, he commenced his 
 labours as a Preacher at Dover, in the pulpit of his friend Dr. Belknap. 
 He had a few months before made a public profession of religion, by join- 
 ing the church in Dedham, under the pastoral care of the Bev. Jason 
 Haven. > 
 
 Though the regular routine of his studies was not a little interrupted by 
 the scenes of the Bevolution, he was, nevertheless, during nearly the whole 
 time, a diligent student, and availed himself of the best helps he could 
 command in the prosecution of his theological inquiries. Nor did he con- 
 fine himself to the study of Theology ; but devoted a portion of his time 
 to Philosophy, History and General Literature. He was a candidate for 
 the Greek Tutorship at Cambridge, about the time of the commencement 
 of the Bevolution, and would undoubtedly have been appointed, if the 
 rising political troubles had not interfered with the proposed arrangement. 
 Another Tutorship was subsequently offered him ; but he is said to have 
 declined it on the ground of his having a younger brother in College at the 
 time, and his being unwilling to be placed in circumstances in which his 
 fraternal regards could be supposed in any way to control or influence his 
 official duties. 
 
 In 1776, he received an earnest request from several leading members 
 of the Episcopal Church at Halifax, Nova Scotia, to become an assistant 
 to their aged Bector, the Bev. Dr. Breynton. The situation, in a worldly 
 point of view, would have been an eligible one ; and Mr. Eliot is said, at 
 that time, to have felt no objection to the doctrines or forms of the Epis- 
 copal Church ; and he thought there was much to be said, on the ground 
 of expediency, in behalf of its discipline and order; but his early predilec- 
 tions for Congregationalism, together with the decided wishes of his father, 
 finally determined him not to change his ecclesiastical connection. 
 
94 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 He officiated, for a short time, as Chaplain to the recruits of Colonel 
 Marshal's regiment, then being raised in Boston, for the expedition to 
 Canada. After this, he passed several months at Littleton, as the assist- 
 ant of the Rev. Daniel Rogers ; and, during the winter of 1778-79, sup- 
 plied the First Cliurch in Salem. Here his labours met with great accept- 
 ance ; and it is said that he would have probably received an invitation to 
 become their Pastor', but for the apprehension they had that the New 
 South Church iu Boston were desirous of obtaining him, and that he would 
 prefer a settlement in his native town. But, before there was any deci- 
 sive action in reference to him, on the part of either church, the death of 
 his venerable father occurred, by reason of which he was finally withdrawn 
 from both, and was introduced to a field of labour as grateful as it was 
 responsible and unexpected. 
 
 The cliurch of which his father had been Pastor (the New North) 
 
 immediately put his services in requisition,, with a view to his becoming 
 
 his father's successor. That a fair expression of the wishes of the Society 
 
 might be obtained, they voted to hear three others in connection with him ; 
 
 and the result was a very unanimous and cordial concurrence in his favour. 
 
 Accordingly, having accepted their call, he was ordained and installed their 
 
 Pastor, on the 3d of November, 1779. The following extracts from his 
 
 reply to the call may serve to illustrate the spirit with which he entered 
 
 into his ministerial engagements: 
 
 " The result of my deliberation is an acceptance of your call, being fully persuaded 
 it is a duty to my Lord and Master, the great Head of the Church, and in compliance 
 with my obligations to this very respectable Society. I have not failed to seek that 
 wisdom which is profitable to direct. I have endeavoured to draw instruction from 
 the fountain of knowledge. And I doubt not that I have had an interest in your 
 prayers at the throne of grace, and been present in your addresses to Him, with whom 
 is the residue of the Spirit. I am greatly encouraged by the kind advice of many 
 wise and judicious friends, both ministers and people, who have given their opinion that 
 I ought to regard this as a call in Providence, to which I should lend a listening ear; 
 that the will of God concerning me is, that I should rise up and stand in the place of 
 my father." 
 
 In the fourth year after his settlement, he was happily married to a 
 Miss Treadwell of Portsmouth, N. H., who survived him. They had six 
 children, — three sons and three daughters, all of whom continued to live 
 with their father till the time of his death. 
 
 In the year 1797, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the 
 University of Edinburgh. In 1804, he was chosen a member of the Cor- 
 poration of Harvard College, in place of the Rev. Dr. Howard, then lately 
 deceased. He was also a member of most of the Literary and Charitable 
 Societies in Boston and the vicinity, and in several of them he held impor- 
 tant offices. 
 
 Dr. Eliot was intimately associated with Dr. Belknap in establishing 
 the " Massachusetts Historical Society;" and, to the close of life, he 
 manifested the warmest devotion to its interests. It was through his 
 instrumentality that many of its richest treasures were obtained, both at 
 home and abroad. He was also a liberal contributor to the different vol- 
 umes of the Society's " Collections," many of the most important memoirs, 
 and other valuable articles, being the production of his pen. 
 
 In the winter of 1809, Dr. Eliot suffered a severe illness (pneumoDia) 
 of several weeks, which his friends were seriously apprehensive might ter- 
 
JOHN ELIOT. 95 
 
 minate his life. From this illness, however, he was so far restored as to 
 be able, at no distant period, to return to his accustomed labours ; but he 
 never regarded himself, from that time, as enjoying perfect health. His 
 lust illness was short, and his death unexpected. On Wednesday, as he 
 was dining at the house of a friend, he was seized with violent spasms, 
 which proved the harbinger of his dissolution. The next day, his symp- 
 toms seemed more favourable ; but, on Friday, the paroxysms returned 
 with increased violence, and produced a complete physical prostration. He 
 now requested his physicians to give him their honest opinion in respect 
 to his case ; and they told him frankly that his disease must have a speedy 
 and fatal termination. With uplifted eyes, he calmly replied, — " The will 
 of the Lord be done." He then conversed with his children, (his wife was 
 absent in a state of insanity,) in respect'to his affairs, and gave them his 
 dying advice. He mentioned to some of his friends that he had, for some 
 time, had a presentiment that his departure was at hand. His father, he 
 remarked, died about his age ; his brother also, and two sisters. Ho 
 requested that he might be buried without any parade ; that his corpse 
 should not be carried into the meeting house ; and that there should be 
 no Sermon preached at his Funeral. He died on the 14th of February, 
 1813, — the fifth day from the commencement of his illness, — at the age of 
 fifty-nine. It was on Sunday, during the time of public worship. It was 
 Communion day in his church, and, in the interval between the usual ser- 
 vice and the sacramental solemnities, the tidings of his death were carried 
 to his people. Dr. Lowell, who was officiating on the occasion, addressed 
 the communicants in reference to their bereavement, in a strain of great 
 tenderness and fervour. His funeral solemnities were attended on Thurs- 
 day, the 18th of February, agreeably to his own arrangement, — Dr. 
 Lathrop praying in his chamber with the family and most intimate friends, 
 and Mr. Channing, at the same time, performing a similar service in the 
 meeting house, where there was a large assembly. Dr. Lathrop preached 
 a Funeral Sermon on the succeeding Sunday, from 1 Thessalonians, v, 9, 
 10, 11, which was published. The several pall-bearers, as was customary 
 at that time, preached on successive Sabbaths, among whom was Dr. Free- 
 man, of King's chapel, whose Sermon was also published. 
 
 Besides his various contributions to the Massachusetts Historical Soci- 
 ety's Collections, he published A Sermon delivered before the Free- 
 masons, on the anniversary of St. John, 1782 ; A Charge to Freemasons, 
 1783 ; A Sermon on the day of Annual Thanksgiving, 1794 ; A Sermon 
 at the Ordination of Joseph McKean, at Milton, 1797 ; A Sermon on 
 Public Worship, 1800 ; A Sermon on the Completion of the House of 
 Worship for the New North Religious Society, 1804 ; A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of Henry Edes,* 1805 ; A Biographical Dictionary, containing 
 a Biief Account of the First Settlers and other Eminent Characters in 
 New England, 8vo., 1809. 
 
 * Henry Edes was a native of Boston; was graduated at Harvard College in 1799; was 
 ordained and installed Pastor of the First Church in Providence, R. I., July 17, 1805; was 
 honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard College in 1826 ; was dismissed 
 in June, 1832; and died in 1851. He published a Sermon at the Ordination of Shearjashub 
 Bourne Townsend, [who was born in Barrington, It. I., April 14, 1796; was graduated at 
 Brown University in 1814; was settled as Pastor of the First Church in Sherburne, Mass., 
 July 2, 1817; and died July 20, 1832, aged thirty -seven years.] 
 
96 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Bkookline, February 15, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: Dr. John Eliot was my friend, and neighbour, and brother in 
 the ministry, for many years. Though much my senior, I knew him well; and 
 though a long period has passed since his departure from the world, my recol- 
 lections of him are still vivid, and I am happy, even at this late day, to do 
 any thing I can in honour of his memory. 
 
 Dr. Eliot was, in person, considerably below the middling stature, and 
 somewhat inclined to corpulency. He was bland and courteous in all his inter- 
 course, and was, in the best sense, a gentleman; though he laboured under 
 the inconvenience of being very near-sighted, which gave a certain awkward- 
 ness to his manner, and sometimes led persons, who were not aware of this 
 infirmity, to suppose that he treated them with neglect. He was remarkably 
 candid in his estimate of others, and seemed to delight in discovering and 
 acknowledging merit of any kind among persons of all creeds and all classes. 
 At the same time, he was modest — perhaps too modest, in the judgment he 
 formed of himself; and, accordingly, when the degree of Doctor of Djvinity 
 was conferred upon him by the University of Edinburgh, he is said to have 
 received it with evident feelings of regret; and when, at a subsequent period, 
 some movement was made among his friends towards procuring for him the 
 same honour from his own Alma Mater, he stronglj' discouraged the idea, and 
 it was abandoned at his urgent request. 
 
 Dr. Eliot was distinguished rather for the more sober than the more bril- 
 liant intellectual qualities. He was fond of the classics, but was more especi- 
 ally devoted to Ecclesiastical History, and the kindred department of Biogra- 
 phy. In matters of fact, he might be appealed to almost as an oracle. He 
 was a prodigious reader, and had a memory unusually tenacious and accurate. 
 His public discourses had not unfreqjjently the appearance of being written in 
 haste, and were sometimes less methodical than could have been wished — he 
 would pass rapidly from one topic to another, in a manner which sometimes 
 left the hearer at loss to account for the transition. Occasionally, however, 
 there would be passages of very considerable beauty and power, to give inte- 
 rest to what might otherwise have Jbeen an ordinary sermon. "With the com- 
 munity at large it could scarcely be said that he was a popular preacher; and 
 yet, to his constant hearers, I believe he was never otherwise than acceptable. 
 His prayers were serious, pertinent, and often impressive. 
 
 In respect to his views of Theology, I suppose the following statement con- 
 tained in Dr. Freeman's Sermon occasioned by his death, may be relied on as 
 substantially correct : , 
 
 <<In general, it may be said that he agreed in opinion with those who are 
 denominated Liberal Christians. Respecting his notions of the distinction 
 which is to be made between the rank of the Father and the Son, though he 
 rejected the creed of the Athanasians, yet he did not go as far as many have 
 proceeded in the present age. He adopted, in his youth, the system of Dr. 
 Thomas Burnet, commonly called the 'Indwelling Scheme,' and I believe 
 adhered to it to the last." * 
 
 He rarely, if ever, introduced controversy in the pulpit, and, on disputed 
 
 *It is due to candour to state that Dr. Ephraim Eliot, in his " Historical Notices of the New- 
 North Religious Society," says that Dr. Eliot was a Trinitarian, and, as evidence of it, 
 adduces the fact that he always used the same Church Covenant which had heen introduced 
 into the church by his father, of which the following is a part: " We give ourselves to the 
 Lord Jehovah, who is the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost: and avouch Him to be our God, our 
 Father, our Saviour and Leader, and receive Him as our portion." Is it not probable, how- 
 ever, that he might have considered this language consistent with the ' ' Indwelling Scheme 1" 
 
 W. B. S. 
 
JOHN ELIOT. 97 
 
 points, especially on the character of the Saviour, generally confined himself 
 nearly or entirely to the use of Scripture language. Indeed, he was so averse 
 to religious controversy, even in private, that I have known him sometimes 
 abruptly leave a circle in which it had been introduced. Nevertheless, he 
 formed his opinions independently, and, when he thought the occasion required 
 it, expressed them without any undue reserve. 
 
 In his domestic and social relations Dr. Eliot shone pre-eminently. In his 
 family he was a, model of gentleness and affection. Often have I remarked 
 the delightful familiarity that subsisted between the father and his children, — 
 the most winning condescension on the one hand, the most unaffected freedom 
 and confidence on the other. And into whatever family or circle he went, he 
 always received a hearty welcome. Though his brow would now and then bear 
 the appearance of deep solicitude, yet he was commonly cheerful, and some- 
 times appeared in an exuberance of good spirits. He possessed an integrity, 
 a simplicity, a transparency of character, that secured to him the affection 
 and confidence of all with whom he associated. 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, truly yours, 
 
 JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 • FROM THE REV. WILLIAM JENKS, D. D/* 
 
 Boston, December 27, I860. 
 
 Rev. and very dear Sir: I am gratified in the opportunity your request 
 affords me to say something of my friend, the late Dr. John Eliot. I owe to 
 his memory a debt of gratitude which I am more than willing at least to 
 attempt to pay. At the same time I am prevented from going much into details 
 from the fact that the subject is so connected with the events of my own pri- 
 vate life, that my remarks might savour rather of an autobiography than of an 
 impartial account of another person. 
 
 Dr. Eliot's eminently worthy father, Dr. Andrew Eliot, was, without ques- 
 tion, a Calvinist, and that of a stamp approaching the features of our primi- 
 tive divines. The son was known generally as a "moderate Calvinist" — how 
 moderately such he was in his own estimation, you may infer from a fact 
 which I will now state to you. I was in his study after taking my first degree, 
 when the subject of conversation was the state of theological sentiment in 
 this region, and he mentioned two prominent clergymen who he said had no 
 charity for Semi-Arian, but desired that one should go all lengths with them. 
 In this he referred to his own case. My impression is that he held a middle 
 place between the popular type of Unitarianism at this day, and the system 
 commonly called evangelical. As a preacher he scarcely came up, in point of 
 evangelical doctrine and tone, to Dr. Eckley, of the Old South, but rather 
 resembled, perhaps, Dr. Gay, of Hingham, and imbibed much of the spirit of 
 Dr. Jonathan Mayhew, being more literary than Dr. Howard, Dr. Mayhew's 
 successor. He was a great admirer of Dr. Jortin, of London, whose charac- 
 ter seemed to me so much like his own, that, on occasion of pronouncing a Eulogy 
 ljublished in 1813, on the principal Patron of Bowdoin College, I mentioned 
 my respected friend as "the Jortin of New England." Subsequently, the late 
 Dr. McKean, who was much attached to Dr. Eliot, stated, in a Memoir of 
 him, published in the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society, that 
 Dr. Eliot remarked, on reading it, that it would be the height of his ambition 
 to deserve that appellation. 
 
 Leaving it to some other hand to furnish you a more particular delineation 
 of the character of my honoured friend, I close, for the present, by sub- 
 scribing myself Yours, faithfully and affectionately, 
 
 WILLIAM JENKS. 
 
 Vol. VIII. t 
 
98 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE HON. JOSIAH QUINCY. 
 
 Boston, 15 November, 1861. 
 
 Dear Sir: You ask me, in your letter of the 4th inst,, for my reminis- 
 cences of the late Dr. John Eliot, and such traits of his character as my 
 memory retains. It is a gratification to me to comply with your request. 
 Dr. Eliot was my friend, in my earliest manhood. Before I was of age, and 
 while yet a student at Law, as early as 1792, my acquaintance was formed 
 with him'and continued until his death. He was one of three others (George 
 Richards Minot, Rev. James Freeman and Dr. Jeremy Belknap) who hon- 
 oured me, at that early period, with their countenance and kindness; intro- 
 duced me, as soon as I was of age, into their society, and were among the 
 causes of my early introduction into the membership of the Historical Society, 
 and to many other Societies. My sense of gratitude was then deeply engraven 
 on my iieart, and has never been obliterated. Among these my early friends 
 and patrons, Dr. Eliot was not the least kind and efficient. In manners he 
 was gentle and amiable; in conversation ready and instructive. He, as well 
 as the other three, was the most direct and truthful of men. There was an 
 open-hearted familiarity in his mind and manner singularly interesting and 
 attractive. To- the 3 r oung they were charming. They were probably formed 
 by his habitual and affectionate intercourse with his parishioners, towards 
 whom he stood in a very peculiar relation — he was both Pastor and comrade. 
 He was settled in the same Church and over the same Society of which his 
 father had been Pastor for a long life. He had been educated with the mem- 
 bers of his Parish from his boyhood. They felt for him not only the respect 
 due to his office, but the intimacy resulting from the association of childhood 
 and youth. Their intercourse combined both qualities of present reverence 
 and long acquaintance with the members of his parish, which gave a natural 
 tone to his general conversation. It was savoured of professionality and 
 sociality. The old people spoke of him with the familiarity with which they 
 were accustomed to address him when a boy and youth, in language of respect 
 and kindness, which he reciprocated. There was something antique in his 
 language and style, both in conversation and in the pulpit, arising probably 
 from his familiarity with the old ecclesiastical writers, such as Fuller and 
 those of like type, of which he was fond. And from the nature of his iden- 
 tity with his congregation, he retained much of that freedom, both in illus- 
 tration and expression, which characterized the clergy of olden times, but 
 which the fashion of his time repressed and soon obliterated. His discourses 
 were, in general, suited to the audience to which the3 r were addressed, full of 
 simplicity and directness. The Society of the North End of Boston, was, at 
 that day, composed of an intelligent, active, laborious class of men, who 
 required for their edification plain truths, plainly spoken. Elaborate argu- 
 ments were not suited either to their taste or habits of thought, and the ser- 
 mons of Dr. Eliot were admirable; of a class suited to their wants and their 
 wishes. They were useful, practical, affectionate, without display, seeking 
 only right words in proper places, and appropriate truths and influences. 
 His Historical writings were rather his amusements than his studies. They 
 were the incidental rather than the direct object of his life. He was curious 
 in researches among old manuscripts; he availed himself of the labours of 
 others — who that writes of things past can do otherwise ? He availed him- 
 self of the assistance of friends, as he acknowledges in his Preface to the New 
 England Biographical Dictionary. His Historical researches were of a charac- 
 ter of all his intellectual efforts for their truth and usefulness, without dis- 
 play, without an)' catering for fame or hope of it. 
 
 As a friend and associate, I cannot speak too highly of his merits — from 
 
ZEDEKIAH SANGER. 99 
 
 1794 to 1805, I had, for almost the whole time, weekly intercourse with him — 
 we were members of the same club, composed of such men as Minot, Free- 
 man, Belknap, Dr. Warren, the founder of that family, Dr. Kirkland, and 
 many others. It was truly a collection of true hearts and sound heads, who 
 met for social intercourse, mutually to instruct and be instructed, and enjoy. 
 The impressions made on my mind are still vivid, and to revive the traces of 
 them now in my ninetieth year, are some of the privileges of old age. From 
 1805 I was a Member of Congress at Washington, and my summer residence 
 was at Quincy. I was deprived almost wholly of the benefits of that associ- 
 ciation; but Dr. Eliot often favoured me with his correspondence, full of his 
 characteristic kindness and information. He was also a constant visitor of 
 Mrs. Quincy, and to my family, during my absence in Washington, and inte- 
 rested Mrs. Quincy by his affectionate attentions and manner. I received 
 letters from her, concerning his death, expressive of her deep feeling on the 
 event, which were as follows: "February 13, 1813. — Our friend, Dr. Eliot 
 has been taken ill very suddenly. I sent to inquire about him to-day, and 
 received word that he was not expected to survive many hours. Out of the 
 circle of our own family I could not have a more affecting loss. He always 
 seemed to take a peculiar interest in you, in your success, your happiness, in 
 every thing concerning you. He has visited me very often this winter, and 
 talked to me confidentially of his views. I shall never see him again. Per- 
 haps you may be surprised at the degree of sorrow I feel at the thought, but 
 the difference of age and the affectionate simplicity of his manners and char- 
 acter seemed to blend a parental and a friendly feeling towards us in a very 
 endearing proportion." Again, "February 14, 1813. — Dr. Eliot died this 
 morning, his mind perfectly clear, tranquil and resigned; full of hope and 
 confidence in the Religion he had preached and professed. Here, then, we 
 leave our pleasant and venerable friend. We shall no more hear his voice or 
 see his face; we will not look into his grave, but turn our thoughts to those 
 better mansions which are promised to the pure in heart. All the clergy of 
 the town and vicinity lament his loss, as he was very interesting to them. 
 Judge Davis, Dawes, Dr. Freeman, Governor Gore, and all his personal 
 friends deeply feel the event." 
 
 I have complied with your request, and am truly yours, 
 
 JOSIAH QUINCY. 
 
 ZEDEKIAH SANGER, D. D * 
 
 1776—1820. 
 
 Ledekiah Sanger was a son of Richard and Deborah (Rider) Sanger, 
 and a grandson of Richard Sanger, who removed from Sudbury to Water- 
 town, where he died, August 21, 1691. He was born at Sherburne, Mass., 
 October 4, 1748. He early manifested much quickness of apprehension, 
 and fondness for study, especially of the Mathematics and Natural Phi- 
 losophy—his taste for these studios always continued, and was indulged, 
 more or less, till the close of life. He was fitted for College by his Pastor 
 the Rev. Dr. Samuel Locke, t afterwards President of Harvard College. He 
 
 * Ms. from Rev. Ralph Sanger, D. D. 
 
 t Samuel Locke was born in Lancaster, Mass., Nov. 23, 1732 ; was graduated at Harvard 
 College in 1755; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Sherburne, November 7 
 
100 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 entered at Cambridge, in July, 1767, and graduated, with high honour, ir 
 1,771, — his class being distinguished for both numbers and talents. His 
 theological studies were pursued under the direction of the Rev. Jason 
 Haven of Dedham. 
 
 On the 3d of July, 1776, he was ordained and installed Pastor of the 
 church in Duxbury. His first sermon after his Ordination was from Levi- 
 ticus, xxv, 10— "And ye shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty 
 throughout all the laud, unto all the inhabitants thereof;" having refer- 
 ence to the Declaration of Independence, which had gone forth the pre- 
 ceding week. 
 
 Mr. Sanger commenced his ministry in troublous times. Though his 
 people were much attached to him, both as a minister and a man, and 
 evinced their attachment by numerous acts of kindness, yet, in consequence 
 of the depreciation of the Continental currency, his salary proved entirely 
 unequal to his support. To supply the deficiency, he laboured on his farm 
 during the day, and devoted a large part of the night to study ; and, in 
 consequence of thus severely taxing his eyes, his sight became so much 
 impaired^ that he felt constrained, after a few years, to ask a dismission 
 from his pastoral charge. His parish immediately assembled, voted to 
 increase his salary, and requested him not to use his eyes in writing ser- 
 mons for one year ; presuming that, in that time, they would recover their 
 usual strength. He fully appreciated the generosity and delicacy which 
 dictated this movement, and, in compliance with their request, carefully 
 abstained for a year from using his eyes in writing, at the same time apply- 
 ing the remedies prescribed by skilful physicians. But, at the close of the 
 year, his sight had not materially improved ; in consequence of which, he 
 renewed his request for a dismission. This was granted in April, 1786. 
 He, however, still continued to reside in Duxbury, and was engaged, to 
 some extent, in secular business. 
 
 After between two and three years from the time he resigned his charge, 
 his sight was so far restored that he was able to return to his professional 
 duties. Accordingly, in the year 1788, he received an invitation to become 
 the Junior Pastor of the church in South Bridgewater. When the vote 
 for giving him a call was taken, it was in fact unanimous, though one hand 
 was raised in the negative. When the man who thus raised his hand was 
 asked what he had to object against Mr. Sanger, his reply was, — " Nothing 
 at all ; I voted against him to take off the curse ; for the Scripture says, — 
 'Wo unto you when all men shall speak well of you.'" Mr. Sanger 
 accepted the call, and was installed, as colleague of the Rev. John Shaw,* 
 on the 17th of December, 1788. Here he spent the remainder of his day^. 
 
 Mr. Sanger preached the Annual Sermon before the Convention of Con- 
 gregational Ministers in Massachusetts, in 1805. He received the degree 
 
 1759; resigned his charge, February 2, 1770; was inaugurated President of Harvard College 
 on the 21st of March following ; was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the 
 same institution in 1773; retired from the Presidential chair, under circumstances of great 
 humiliation, on the 1st of December of the same year; and died on the 15th of January, 1778, 
 aged forty-five years. He preached the Annual Sermon before the Convention of Congrega- 
 tional Ministers in Massachusetts, in 1772, which was published. 
 
ZEDEKIAH SANGER. 101 
 
 of Doctor of Divinity from Brown University, in 1807- He was one of 
 the original members of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. 
 
 Dr. Sanger is understood to have limited his term of service as a Preacher 
 to the age of seventy. When he arrived at that age, he was satisfied that 
 some of his faculties, especially his memory, had begun to fail; and he, 
 accordingly, asked for a colleague. The Rev. Dr. Reed, his neighbour and 
 intimate friend, attributed this failure, in a considerable degree, to the 
 idea which Dr. Sanger had entertained that he should not or ought not to 
 preach, after the age of seventy. The strong expectation and impression, 
 he thought, tended to produce the result. 
 
 Dr. Sanger withdrew from public service altogether at the time of the 
 settlement of his colleague. He had a good physical constitution, and 
 generally enjoyed vigorous health, till within a few years of his death, 
 when he had an attack of the measles, from the effects of which he never 
 fully recovered. His last illness was a slight paralytic affection, which, 
 however, did not deprive him of the use of either his limbs or his reason. 
 He was confined to his house but a few weeks, and to his bed but a few 
 days. He died on the 17th of November, 1820, in the seventy-third year 
 of his age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by the R-ev. Dr. Reed of 
 Bridgewater. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Sanger's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Ebenezer Lazell,* Attleborough, 1792. 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of James Wilson,! Providence, 1793. A 
 Sermon at the Ordination of Hezckiah Hooper,t Boylston, 1794. A 
 Sermon at the Ordination of Samuel Watson, § Barrington, R. I., 1798. 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Ralph Sanger, Dover, 1812. 
 
 * Ebenezer Lazell was a Dative of Bridgewater, Mass. ; was graduated at Brown Uni- 
 versity in 1788 ; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Second Church in Attleborough, 
 Mass., November 21, 1792 ; and resigned his charge, January 3, 1797. The time of his death 
 I have not been able to ascertain. 
 
 t James Wilson was born in Limerick, Ireland, March 12, 1760. His paternal grand- 
 father emigrated from Scotlandj and his maternal ancestors from Germany. An inflamma- 
 tion in his eyes, at the age of ten or twelve, which lasted two years, interfered materially 
 with his improvement of the few advantages of education which his parents were able to give 
 him. After a long season of anxiety in regard to his spiritual interests, he believed that he 
 first felt the power of religion upon his heart at the age of about twenty-two, and soon after 
 felt that he was called to preach the Gospel. He became a preacher in the Wesleyan con- 
 nection, and, for several years, laboured with great zeal and success. At length he retired 
 from the circuit, and, though he did not altogether give up preaching, he engaged, with 
 Borne of his wife's connections, in manufacturing business, in which, however, he was unsuc- 
 cessful. Owing to this, he turned his thoughts to America, and actually came hither, and 
 settled in. Providence, R. I., in May, 1791. .Shortly after his arrival, he was invited to 
 preach for the Rev. Joseph Snow, an aged Congregational minister, and his labours proved 
 so acceptable that the preliminaries were soon arranged for his becoming Mr. Snow's assistant. 
 In this capacity he preached nearly two years. In 1793, owing to various circumstances, a 
 new church was formed under the name of the "Beneficent Congregational Church," and 
 Mr. Wilson became the Pastor of it in October of that year. Of this church he continued sole 
 Pastor until 1835, when he was relieved from a portion of his labours by the settlement of 
 a colleague. He continued Senior Pastor of the church until his death, which occurred on 
 the 14th of September, 1839. For ten years he taught a large public school, and for four 
 years a private one. Dr. Tucker, who preached his Funeral Sermon, represents him as an 
 earnest Christian, a vigorous and successful Preacher, and a faithful' Pastor. 
 
 J Hezekiah Hooper was born in Bridgewater, (one authority has it Newburyport,) in 
 1769; was graduated at Harvard College, in 1789; was ordained and installed Pastor of the 
 Church in Boylston, Mass., March 12, 1794; and died December 2, 1795, aged twenty -six 
 years. 
 
 § Samuel Watson was born in Barrington, R. I., in 1773; was graduated at Brown Uni- 
 versity in 1794; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Barrington, February 
 28, 1798; and died January 16, 1821, aged forty -eight yearB. 
 
102 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Dr. Sanger was married in 1771 : to Irene Freeman, a member of his 
 own congregation, in Duxbury. They had fourteen children, two of whom, 
 Richard and Ealph, were graduated at Harvard College. The latter was 
 born at Duxbury, in 1786 ; was graduated in 1808 ; was Tutor in the 
 College, in 1811-12 ; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in 
 Dover, Mass., September 16, 1812; was honoured with the degree of 
 Doctor of Divinity from his Alma Mater, in 1858 ; and died at the house 
 of his son-in-law, Mr. W. W, Gannett, in Cambridge, May 6, 1860. He 
 was elected a representative in the State Legislature, from Dover, in 1837, 
 1845, 1847, 1851, and 1854. About four years before his death, his 
 house was set on fire by an incendiary and destroyed. Though, from this 
 time he resided at Cambridge, he continued his pastoral labours among 
 his people till near the close of life. He was a man of liberal attainments, 
 and, beside his appropriate duties as a clergyman, he did much for the 
 promotion of agriculture and temperance, and in aid of the general cause 
 of social improvement. He published a Sermon occasioned by the Death 
 of Lewis Smith, who was killed, 1819; Thirty Years' Ministry; Two 
 Sermons delivered in Dover, Mass., 1842 ; and Brief Review of Forty 
 Years : A Sermon delivered on occasion of the Fortieth Anniversary of 
 the Author's Ordination, 1853. He was marrried in July, 1817, to Char- 
 lotte Kingman, of East Bridgewater. They had six children, — four sons 
 and two daughters. 
 
 The following account of Dr. Sanger's religious opinions is from his son, 
 
 the Rev. Ralph Sanger, D. D., of Dover : — 
 
 " My father was educated an Armiuian, and a Trinitarian. The doctrine of the 
 Trinity he received from his parents and teachers; and, in the earlier part of his min- 
 istry, he preached it without any doubt of its truth. In process of time, however, 
 doubts arose in his mind in relation to it; and, upon a thorough and earnest examina- 
 tion of the Holy Scriptures, he arrived at a belief of the simple and absolute unity of 
 the Godhead. But he always entertained a profound and reverent regard for Christ 
 as the Son of God, and as the Redeemer and Saviour of the world." 
 
 FROM THE REV. LEVI W. LEONARD, D. D. 
 
 , Exeter, N. H., March 23. 1854. 
 
 My dear Sir: You ask for some reminiscences of the Rev. Dr. Sanger, of 
 Bridgewater. His parish was the place of my birth, and my earliest recol- 
 lections of any minister are of him. At the age of four years, I began to 
 attend public worship with my parents, and, with the exception of a few 
 years' residence in an adjacent town, till the age of twenty-one, I was fre- 
 quently present on the Sabbath at Dr. Sanger's meeting. I had opportunities 
 of seeing and hearing him on other occasions, as in the schools, at funerals, 
 and in his family visits. 
 
 The personal appearance of Dr. Sanger was striking, and not easily to be 
 forgotten. On his head he wore what was called, in those days, a cocked 
 hat; or a hat with the brim turned up on three sides. On the Sabbath, he 
 always appeared with small clothes, black silk or black worsted stockings, 
 and shoes with siJker buckles. Among the boys, his appearance, as he 
 approached the church, excited much attention, and we used to watch for him 
 to turn from the road into the common in front of the meeting house. He 
 advanced with a slow step and dignified air, suffering no one to pass without 
 respectful recognition, and taking off his three-cornered hat as the persons 
 about the door stood back that he might enter. 
 
 The manner of Dr. Sanger in the pulpit was grave without affectation; his 
 
ZEDEKIAH SANGER. 103 
 
 utterance was distinct, but the intonations of his voice were peculiar, such as 
 I do not recollect to have heard from any other public speaker, and an imita- 
 tion of which I should readily recognize, wherever it might be attempted. In 
 his devotional exercises, there was occasionally a quick shaking of the head 
 from side to side, which many persons remember with interest, as it was apt 
 to occur in the most earnest part of his prayers, and seemed to render the 
 words uttered more impressive. 
 
 In his pastoral visits Dr. Sanger was distinguished for his entertaining and 
 instructive conversations. He had a large fund of anecdotes, which he knew 
 how to introduce without obtruding them. He was interesting to the young 
 as weLJ as to older persons. When I was but a boy, it was a source of high 
 gratification to me to be permitted to sit in the room during a visit or a call 
 from him. I never saw in him the least approach to levity of manner. He 
 was careful of the reputation of others — when persons were traduced in his 
 presence, he remained silent. 
 
 Bridgewater Academy was opened for pupils about 1799, and Dr. Sanger 
 was appointed the Preceptor. I became a member of his school , when nine 
 years of age. He was strict in discipline, and thorough in instruction. 
 Offences against the regulations of the school seldom escaped his notice; and 
 occasionally he was severe in his reprimands. His general manner indicated 
 kindness of heart, and an earnest desire for the good conduct and progress of 
 his pupils. His commendations were bestowed with just discrimination, and 
 ■were regarded, therefore, as worth receiving. I remember, as it were but 
 yesterday, the first time he prescribed forme a lesson in Barr's English Gram- 
 mar. He called me to his desk, opened the book, marked the paragraphs to 
 be committed to memory, and then went over them with a running commen- 
 tary, thus explaining their meaning, and exciting an interest in the subject. 
 There was a department for female pupils, and, morning and evening, both 
 sexes assembled in the hall, where the Scriptures were read and prayers 
 offered. It was customary, after evening prayers, to have an exercise in 
 spelling. The pupils had been in the habit of spelling words without first 
 pronouncing them after the teacher. I had been trained to pronounce words 
 before spelling them, and when called upon to spell, I repeated the word before 
 naming the letters and syllables. To my surprise and chagrin, there was a. 
 restrained laugh and smile of derision on the part of many of the pupils — for 
 a moment, I remember, Dr. Sanger looked offended, but immediately he said, 
 in a decided tone, "That is a good method — it shows whether the pupil under- 
 stands the word he is required to spell, and I desire that all of you hereafter 
 pronounce the words before you spell them." This, of course, relieved me 
 from all embarrassment, and it is one of the first things that I recollect, when 
 I hear the name of Dr. Sanger mentioned. 
 
 Dr. Sanger continued in the Academy two or three years, but, during the 
 rest of his life, seldom, if ever, took pupils to instruct at his own house. He 
 consented, however, to give me instructions, once a week, in my review of 
 studies preparatory to entering College. My custom was to mark such pas- 
 sages in Latin and Greek as I regarded difficult, and these were examined 
 and explained by him. What surprised me was that he so often called my 
 attention to other hard passages, and, with the utmost readiness, pointed out 
 their difficulties or peculiarities of construction. He told me, on one occa- 
 sion, when speaking of his past labours as a teacher, that he could, at a for- 
 mer time, repeat the whole of the first book of the iEneid, although he had 
 never tried to commit the same to memory. It was the result of his having 
 taught it with care and thoroughness to a long succession of pupils. The dis- 
 covery of his being able to do this, he said, was accidental. 
 
 During Dr. Sanger's ministry, there was no stove in his church. Two of 
 
104 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 the entrances opened directly into the open air outside. The doors to these 
 were not always shut by those who entered, and thus the house was rendered 
 inore than usually uncomfortable. When a door was left open, Dr. Sanger was 
 accustomed, at times, to request that it might be closed. At the beginning of 
 one winter, having made the request several times on different Sabbaths, it 
 happened, on a succeeding Sabbath, that the door was left open, and no one 
 moved to shut it. After waiting awhile, he rose, came down the pulpit stairs, 
 — the eyes of the whole congregation being turned towards him,— walked 
 deliberately through the side aisle, and gently closed the door; then, with the 
 same deliberate step, returned to the pulpit, and continued the service as if 
 nothing had happened to disturb his equanimity. I believe the doors were not 
 left open again during that winter. 
 
 I was occasionally sent, when a boy, to procure books from the Social 
 Library, at a meeting of the members, once in six weeks. Dr. Sanger was 
 librarian, and attended personally to the delivery of books. His conversa- 
 tion, at these meetings, was about the books, giving frequently some sketch of 
 their contents, and recommending to one and another the kind of books in 
 which he supposed they would take an interest. 
 
 Allow me to say a word in conclusion, in respect to the Doctor's excellent 
 wife. She was discreet, shrewd, intelligent, and such a manager of a house- 
 hold as falls to the lot of few husbands of any profession. With a numerous 
 family, and a number of pupils besides, her domestic duties must have been 
 of no trifling weight. But every thing was done by her with prompt decision, 
 and with a careful, yet not unduly rigid, economy. Her children were distin- 
 guished for their good conduct and civil manners, and were often referred to 
 by the mothers of the parish as patterns to be imitated. Mrs. Sanger was 
 distinguished for her conversational ability. In consequence of having a large 
 circle of friends and acquaintances, much company was entertained, and when 
 Dr. Sanger was wearied with the labours of the day, or unwell, or particu- 
 larly engaged in his study, his wife was never found unequal to the task of 
 interesting visitors, whether young or old. She seemed to know just what 
 should be said on all occasions, and when some perverse or conceited parish- 
 ioner was tr}-ing to catch his minister in his talk, she quickly perceived it, 
 and, with wonderful tact, and without seeming intrusiveness, took up the sub- 
 ject and the conversation, and caused the person to forget his purpose. She 
 was often somewhat satirical in expressing disapprobation of opinions or con- 
 duct, but her satire was free from sarcasm. With much regard, 
 
 Yours, very truly, 
 
 L. W. LEONARD. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CHARLES LOWELL, D. D. 
 
 Elmwood. Cambridge, February 23, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: I had much respect and affection for the late Dr. Sanger, and 
 should be glad to do any thing in honour of his memory. It is, hon-ever, more 
 than half a century since I resided with him; I was then but a youth fitting 
 for College; and though my pleasant recollections of him and his family led 
 me to spend a few weeks with him after I commenced the study of Theology, 
 yet the time I spent there was so short, the period that has since elapsed is 
 so long, and the scenes through which I have passed have been so many and 
 so various, that I cannot undertake to give a formal sketch of his character, 
 or a detailed account of his theological opinions. 
 
 That he had the reputation of being a good scholar, may, I think, be 
 inferred from his having been entrusted with the care of so many lads in their 
 preparatory education for College; and that he had a highly respectable rank 
 
JOHN CLARKE. 105 
 
 among his brethren, appears from his having been one of the few teachers in 
 that day of a "School of the Prophets." 
 
 I remember him as a man of much simplicity of character, of great sensi- 
 bility, of an ardent temperament, perhaps somewhat excitable, but habitu- 
 ally gentle and kind. He had nothing austere about him but his eye-brows, 
 which were unusually long. 
 
 In his Theology I think he was not a Oalvinist, though I believe he was in 
 better odour with his Calvinistic brethren than some of his neighbours. In the 
 constant warfare, at the meetings of their Association, between Mr. Niles, of 
 Abingdon, an earnest Hopkinsian, and Dr. Reed, of Bridgewater, he was of 
 the party of the latter rather than of the former, but was not an ultraist with 
 any party. 
 
 In regard to the doctrine of the Trinity, I then supposed that he was an 
 Arian, of the school of Dr. Price; but, from a conversation with him at a 
 subsequent period, I received the impression that he 'did not venture to define 
 his notions on that subject, but was disposed with myself to rest with the 
 declaration of the Saviour, — "No man knoweth who the Son is but the 
 Father." 
 
 As a Preacher, he was more than ordinarily popular. His style of compo- 
 sition was lively, and his elocution animated, though not graceful. His man- 
 ner was his own — there was no affectation about it — he felt what he uttered, 
 and was mainly anxious that the flock he fed <<should feel it too." 
 
 As a husband and father, I regarded him as a model, and I retain to this 
 day a most vivid recollection of the harmony and love which subsisted among 
 the members of his domestic circle. It was a scene eminently fitted to elicit 
 a repetition of the Psalmist's exclamation, — "Behold how*good and pleasant 
 a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!" I should do great 
 injustice to the precious memory of that excellent woman, if I did not say 
 that she too should share largely with her husband in the eulogium which such 
 a scene bestows. She did him good, and not evil, all the days of her life. 
 
 I have written all that now occurs to me concerning my lamented, ven- 
 erated friend; but I can hardly hope that this meagre sketch will be of any 
 use to you. If it is, I shall rejoice. 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, very truly yours, 
 
 CHARLES LOWELL. 
 
 JOHN CLARKE, D. D* 
 
 1778—1798. 
 
 John Clarke, a son of John and Sarah Clarke, was born at Ports- 
 mouth, N. H., April 13, 1755. His mother was a daughter of Deacon 
 Timothy Pickering, and sister of Colonel Timothy Pickering, of political 
 memory. The family resided chiefly at Portsmouth, but finally removed 
 to Salem, where the parents died. The father was by profession a sea- 
 captain, but, after his removal to Salem, was occupied as a writer in a 
 public office. 
 
 The son gave early indications of fine intellectual and moral qualities, 
 and evinced an uncommon thirst for knowledge and an earnest desire for 
 a liberal education. While he was yet a mere boy, he was fitted for Har- 
 
 * Thacher's Fun. Serm.— Mass. Hist. Coll. VI. 
 
106 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 vard College, and was graduated there, in 1774, at the age of nineteen. 
 During his whole college course, he maintained a very high standing in 
 respect to both scholarship and behaviour ; insomuch that his Tutor (after- 
 wards President Willard) remarked concerning him', that, " perhaps there 
 never was a student, who passed through the University, and went into 
 the world, with a fairer reputation, and few with more solid and useful 
 acquirements." 
 
 After leaving College, he engaged, for some time, in the instruction of 
 youth, devoting his leisure hours to the study of Theology. From his first 
 appearance in the pulpit, h e took his place amo og the more popular preach- 
 ers of the d ay. The First Church in Boston, of which Dr. Chauncy was 
 then sole Pastor, wishing to give him a colleague, directed their views to 
 Mr. Clarke ; and, after he had preached a suitable time as a candidate, 
 they invited him, with Dr. Chauncy's cordi al concurrence, to becom e his 
 associate in the minist ry. He accepted their call, and was ordained a nd 
 i nstalled on the 8th of July , 1778. With Dr. Chauncy he lived, as a son 
 with a father, in the most respectful and affectionate intimacy, for nine 
 years, when the death of his colleague left him sole Pastor of the church. 
 After this, he continued his labours with undiminished acceptance until 
 his death. On the last day of March, 1798, in the midst of his Sabbath 
 afternoon service, he fell in his pulpit in a fit of apoplexy, was borne to 
 his dwelling amidst the tears and lamentations of his flock, and died at 
 three o'clock the next morning, having nearly completed the forty-third 
 year of his age, and the twentieth of his ministry. 
 
 His Funeral was attended on the Friday following, (April 6th,) and a 
 Sermon preached on the occasion by Dr. Thacher of Brattle Street Church, 
 from 2 Samuel, i, 26 : "I am distressed for thee, my brother; very plea- 
 sant hast thou been unto me." On the Sabbath following, Dr. Willard, 
 President of Harvard College, preached to the bereaved congregation an 
 appropriate Sermon, a copious extract from which is to be found in the 
 pamphlet containing Dr. Thaehcr's Sermon at the Interment. It is a high 
 tribute to the character of his friend, in all his various relations. 
 
 The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him (I cannot 
 ascertain in what year) by the University of Edinburgh. 
 
 Probably the most import ant wor k which Dr. Clark published, was his 
 " An swer to the Question , ' Why are you a Christian V " It is a con- 
 densed, perspicuous and powerful argument for tFe truth of Christianity, 
 and has passed through several editions in Great Britain, as well as in 
 this country. His " Letters to a Student at the University of Cambridge," 
 (understood to be his cousin, the late Hon. John Pickering,) form an 
 excellent manual for a young man during his college course. His other 
 works, published during his lifetime, consist of four Sermons : — one at the 
 Interment of the Rev. Samuel Cooper, D. D., 1783; one at the Interment 
 of the Rev. Charles Chauncy, D. D., 1787 ; one at the Interment of 
 Nathaniel W. Appleton, M. D., 1795 ; and one before the Humane Society 
 of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, 1793. Two volumes of his Ser- 
 mons were published after his death ; the first, of a miscellaneous char- 
 acter, in 1799 ; the second, addressed particularly to the Young, in 1804. 
 
JOHN CLARKE. 107 
 
 Dr. Clarke was a diligent student, and, though lie devoted himself chiefly 
 to studies more immediately connected with his profession, his taste led 
 him more or less into the regions of polite literature and philosophic 
 research. He was an active friend and patron of most of the excellent 
 iustitutions, both literary and religious, which existed in Boston, in his 
 day. He was a member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 
 from its commencement ; a member of the Massachusetts Historical Society ; 
 a Trustee of the Humane Society ; one of the original founders of the 
 Boston Library; a Corresponding member of the Board of Commissioners 
 in Scotland for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians of North 
 America, &c. 
 
 Dr. Clarke was married to Esther, daughter of Timothy Orne, of Salem. 
 Mrs. Clarke survived her husband many years, and died at the age of 
 ninety or more, having been, for some time previous to her death, a mere 
 intellectual wreck. They had four children, two sons and two daughters. 
 
 FROM THE HON. WILLIAM JARVIS. 
 
 TVeathersfield, Vt., January 30, 1846. 
 
 My dear Sir: It is now a half century since I last-saw the Rev. Dr. Clarke; 
 and in the wide panorama of life, which has since passed before me, and which 
 must have obliterated or impaired many of my early recollections, it is pos- 
 sible that my memory may not furnish a very vivid or accurate representation 
 of him; but, as I saw him as often as once in a fortnight or three weeks, for 
 several years, and had much conversation with him, I think my impressions 
 will not lead me very wide from the truth. 
 
 Dr. Clark was, I think, a little above the middle height; — say about five 
 feet, nine to ten inches. He was rather strongly built, and was somewhat 
 inclined to corpulency; but only enough so to round off handsomely the person. 
 His complexion was sallow, but not indicative of ill health. His face was 
 rather long; his forehead of middling height and broad; his eyes dark grey, 
 and animated in conversation; his cheek bones rather prominent; his nose 
 somewhat long, but straight and handsomely formed; his mouth rather wide, 
 and his lips thick, but his teeth good, and his chin strong and well-formed. 
 The general aspect of his countenance was calm and placid, but it was often 
 lighted up, especially when he was conversing with young people, with uncom- 
 mon vivacity. 
 
 He had fine powers of conversation, could be gay or grave as occasion 
 required, but was never prosy. His moral character was unimpeached, and 
 unimpeachable. He was remarkably sincere, modest and unpretending. 
 
 There was one night in the week which he set apart to receive the visits of a 
 number of young gentlemen of his acquaintance, when almost every subject 
 was occasionally discussed, but in that easy and agreeable manner which 
 threw a charm over the whole. In his family, he was uncommonly kind, 
 courteous and affectionate. 
 
 The last time I ever saw him, I think, was in December, '96, or January, 
 '97; and I felt much affected at parting with one whom I so highly respected 
 and esteemed, and doubtless exhibited somewhat of this feeling in bidding 
 him farewell. A few days afterwards, he saw a Miss Archibald, a mutual 
 acquaintance and friend, and stated to her that, from the impressive manner 
 of our parting, he was persuaded he should never see me again. Miss A. sup- 
 posed that the Doctor was impressed with the belief that I was destined to 
 
108 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 find an ocean grave. During my absence, he was attacked with a fit of apo- 
 plexy, in the pulpit, which, within the brief space of a few hours, translated 
 him to another world. With assurances of high respect, 
 
 I remain your obedient servant, 
 
 WILLIAM JAR VIS. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Bbookline, February 16, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: You ask for my recollections of Dr. John Clarke, for many 
 years a distinguished clergyman of Boston. Though he died at an early 
 period of my ministerial career, so that my acquaintance with him was less 
 intimate, as well as less extended, than it would otherwise have been, yet I 
 have some distinct and pleasant recollections of him which I will cheerfully 
 communicate to you. 
 
 Dr. Clarke was eminently social in his disposition and habits, and his fine 
 powers of conversation rendered him the life of every circle which he entered. 
 In his intercourse with literary men, he was remarkable for asking questions, 
 and such questions as showed a mind that was ever thirsting for knowledge, 
 and intent on higher improvements. 
 
 It was his custom to write one sermon a week. This he elaborated with 
 great care, and his rule was to finish it before the Thursday Lecture. Per- 
 haps, while on this account there was greater 'finish, there was less glow in 
 his discourses than there would have been, if, in preparing them, he had 
 yielded more to strong impulses, and written more under the pressure of 
 necessity. His manner of speaking savoured somewhat of the plaintive and 
 pathetic, and was admirably adapted to funeral occasions. His public prayers 
 were carefully precomposed and committed to memory. 
 
 He is said to have been happy in his pastoral interviews with the people of 
 his charge, paying them frequent, though short, visits, and conciliating the 
 warm regards of persons of all ranks and ages. 
 
 He always took great interest in the success of 3'oung ministers, and was 
 ready to lend them a helping hand at every point where he thought he could 
 benefit them. I well remember my own personal experience of his friendly 
 attentions, on a visit which I made to him in an early part of my ministry; — 
 how much I was at once gratified and impressed by his words of kindness 
 and encouragement. 
 
 It is not a little remarkable that Dr. Clarke, though the farthest removed 
 from superstition, should, within a year of his death, have had a dream 
 which seemed literally to forewarn him of his approaching demise. Some years 
 before his death, he was called to part with one of his most intimate friends, 
 and a, member of his church, Dr. Nathaniel W. Appleton, with whom he had 
 enjoyed much intimate and delightful intercourse, and on account of whose 
 death he preached a Sermon which was printed, from the text, — " Lover and 
 friend hast thou put far from me, and my acquaintance into darkness." Not 
 long before Dr. Clarke's death, he dreamed that his friend paid him a visit 
 from the world of spirits, and though apparently rejoiced to meet him, yet 
 seemed perfectly reserved on topics relating to the other world. Dr. Clarke, 
 with the freedom he had always felt in conversing with his friend, besought 
 him to give him some particular information in regard to the scenes beyond 
 the vail. Dr. Appleton, with great solemnity, checked his importunity in 
 some such language as the following : " It is not permitted me to satisfy your 
 curiosity on the subjects proposed; but this I can tell you, that, before the 
 expiration of another year, you will know the truth from your own observa- 
 tion." The emotions awakened by this reply suddenly awoke Dr. Clarke, 
 
JOHN CLARKE. 109 
 
 and he immediately communicated the dream to his wife. The prediction was 
 singularly verified. 
 
 Dr. Clarke's preaching, as you will see by his published sermons, was 
 practical rather than doctrinal. He is said to have been an Arian in theory, 
 though I am not aware that he ever expressed his views publicly in favour of 
 that system. In the former part of his ministry, he often preached in favour 
 of the doctrine of final restoration, as held and defended by Dr. Chauncy, his 
 colleague; but, during the latter part, he observed a profound silence in respect 
 to that subject; nor could a single discourse relating to it be found among his 
 manuscripts. I am very truly, your friend and brother, 
 
 JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 FROM THE REV. MICAH STONE. 
 
 Brookfield, Mass., August 30, 1847. 
 
 My dear Sir: I have received your letter of the 26th inst., and can assure 
 you that it affords me satisfaction to learn that, though years have passed 
 since we met, I have not lost my place in your kind remembrance, and that 
 there is any way in which I can render myself useful to you. 
 
 In respect to my old friend, Dr. John Clarke, I was very intimate with him 
 in my early days, and, besides having frequent opportunities to listen to him 
 in the pulpit, I was under his direction, more than that of any one else, in 
 my theological studies. As a man he possessed, I may say, very uncommon 
 attractions. His intellect was of a superior order; his taste refined and exact; 
 and all his utterances, whether in or out of the pulpit, showed the highly 
 accomplished scholar. His disposition was uncommonly benevolent, and he 
 seemed to take delight in ministering to the happiness of any of his fellow 
 creatures. His manners did full justice to his uncommonly amiable charac- 
 ter, and showed also that he had been used to the atmosphere of cultivated 
 society. He moved about among his people and in the community at large 
 with a simplicity, dignity and kindliness, which would have made him a man 
 of mark, independently of his acknowledged intellectual superiority. His 
 manner in the pulpit was not only remarkably free from faults, but was char- 
 acterized by a reverent and solemn earnestness that made it well nigh irre- 
 sistible. He was far in advance of nearly all his contemporaries as a graceful, 
 perspicuous and polished writer. Though his thoughts were far from being 
 common-place, in an}' objectionable sense of that word, the words in which 
 they were expressed were so felicitously chosen that they were brought within 
 the legitimate range of even the humblest intellect. His prayers partook of 
 the same studied and elegant diction with his sermons; and they were proba- 
 bly prepared with equal care. I remember he used to say, in praying for the 
 spread of Divine truth, — "Wherever there are human beings to contemplate 
 thy character, there may thy name be known, thy power and justice revered, 
 and thy goodness gratefully acknowledged." No minister in Boston, of his 
 day, was more respected, esteemed and beloved, as a gentleman, a scholar, 
 and a preacher, than Dr. Clarke. I am not aware that he had an enemy. 
 
 In regard to his views of religious doctrine, I suppose I can answer your 
 inquiries without scruple or qualification. If you will look into the posthu- 
 mous volume of his sermons, (and I think they are a fair specimen of his 
 general preaching,) you will find little or nothing in them from which any 
 Christian would dissent, and much that all Christians would approve and 
 admire; but you will probably miss some things which those of us, who are 
 commonly called " orthodox" would wish to see. I remember his telling me, as 
 an illustration'of the deficiencies imputed to him by the Calvinists of that day, 
 that a certain old Puritan, on hearing him preach, went out of the church, say- 
 
110 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ing, — "Beans in a bladder — no food to-day for poor perishing souls." Though, 
 in accordance with the then prevailing usage, he was careful not to disturb 
 the prejudices of any portion of his hearers by preaching any thing in direct 
 conflict with what had been the accredited orthodoxy in New England, he did 
 not hesitate in private to acknowledge himself an Arian; and I think there 
 was no writer whose works he valued more highly, or was more ready to rec- 
 ommend, than those of John Taylor, of Norwich. I cherish his memory as 
 having been not only my early friend, but in some sense my patron; and the 
 fact that I have long since abandoned the views which I held, during my inti- 
 macy with him, does not make it the less easy or grateful for me to render 
 this testimony to his many virtues and accomplishments. 
 
 I am, as ever, your friend and brother, 
 
 M. STONE. 
 
 FROM THE REV. FRANCIS PARKMAN, D. D. 
 
 Boston, June 10, 1849. 
 
 Dear Sir: Your request for my recollections of my early Pastor, Dr. John 
 Clarke, touches a responsive chord in my heart. He died while I was yet in 
 my boyhood, but I have never ceased to cherish his memory with affectionate 
 veneration. Whether what I shall be able to say concerning him will sub- 
 serve your purpose I must leave you to judge. 
 
 Dr. Clarke was distinguished beyond most of the clergy of his day, by the 
 frequency, freedom, and friendliness, of his intercourse with his people. He 
 was a great favourite with society at large; but his own parishioners he vis- 
 ited, not only as a Pastor, but as a neighbour, brother, and friend. Never 
 losing sight of the decorum and meek dignity becoming his profession; ever 
 ready to avail himself of opportunities as thsy naturally arose, of spiritual 
 counsel, which he preferred to suggest rather than enforce; and happy to lis- 
 ten as well as to speak, his visits were divested of a merely official character; 
 and hence were most cordially welcomed by the young as well as the old. 
 There were those who silently contrasted them with the inflictions of some of 
 his elder brethren, whose approach to the house was regarded as a signal 
 for the dispersion of all the younger members of the family. 
 
 I can easily imagine that something like this would have been the experience 
 of that far-famed Divine, Dr. Chauncy; who, as tradition informs us, was 
 accustomed to make his pastoral visits, which were short and far between, in 
 an ancient chaise driven by a negro servant, quite as ancient, sitting on a 
 leathern seat in front, and concerning whom divers memorable anecdotes are 
 related. Now it seems to us, of these days, highly probable that, with all 
 possible respect for that "famous Divine," such visitations, especially if made, 
 as was his wont, on a Monday morning, to the humbler families of the flock, 
 interrupting the domestic engagements of that peculiar season, would minis- 
 ter to constraint rather than to delight; and yet the more, if this thoughtful 
 theologian, whose mind was apt to be with his books, even when present 
 bodily with- his friends, should happen to be in one of his seasons of abstrac- 
 tion; or yet worse,in one of those turns of testy humour, incident to mortal 
 man amidst pressing engagements, and from which faithful biographers have 
 told us that even Dr. Chauncy was not wholly exempt. 
 
 I recollect several clergymen in Boston at that day, who were of eminently 
 genial and social dispositions, hut I think I may safely say that, in this one 
 regard, the minister of the First Church confessed^ surpassed them all, facih 
 princeps. The announcement of a visit from Dr. Clarke to a family of his 
 flock diffused joy through the whole house; especially if the hour was such 
 as to encourage the hope that he would remain to tea. The elders greeted him 
 
JOHN CLARKE. Ill 
 
 as a son; the daughters sat looking with complacency upon his undeniably 
 plain but most benignant countenance, listening lovingly, though reverently, 
 to the gentle and cheerful wisdom of his lips; while the young children were 
 too happy to be taken upon his knees, — a blessing of which I was myself 
 favoured from infancy to boyhood with a large experience; and when he was 
 gone, they all talked together, the young and the old, of the delightful visit, 
 of the kindness of his looks, of his pleasant and instructive words, and 
 began to count up the weeks that must pass before he would come again. 
 
 Br. Clarke's published sermons do not, by any means, account for all the 
 popularity he had as a preacher. In order fully to understand this, we must 
 take into view the times in which he lived, when the general strain of the pulpit 
 differed widely from the present; his own time of life, which, even at its 
 close, had scarcely reached its meridian; the tones of his voice, melodious 
 even to a certain warbling; his pure, condensed and classic style, then attained 
 by few, not even sought by many; and perhaps, above them all, the loving 
 hearts of his hearers; assuring for him a welcome wherever be appeared, and 
 a delighted acceptance of all he uttered. In addition to this, it is to be remem- 
 bered that, when he was ordained, in 177a, in the twenty-third year of his 
 age, he was among the very few young men then in the Boston Association. 
 The pulpits of both the city and vicinity were occupied, for the most part, by 
 elderly clergymen, whose voices had become familiar, whose divisions of their 
 discourses were many and formal, and whose lives, — surely not to their dis- 
 honour may it be said, — were more eloquent than their lips. Dr. Chauncy, 
 the Senior Pastor of the church, had almost reached his threescore years and 
 ten, when he received a colleague; and, with gifts and learning that gave him 
 renown in all the churches, could hardly have been attractive to the young. 
 It has been said of him that he would sometimes beseech God never to make 
 him an orator; and one of his friends jocosely remarked that his prayer was 
 unequivocally granted. 
 
 The spirit of a man, or his prevailing turn, may sometimes be discovered by 
 trivial circumstances, especially in the conduct of his profession. In a cler- 
 gyman it may be not obscurely exhibited by his choice of texts on particular 
 occasions. This was signally exemplified in one instance by Dr. Chauncy and 
 his youthful colleague. The work-house in Boston was the abode of subjects, 
 both male and female, who, according to their offences, were sentenced to 
 imprisonment and labour, to which, if they proved refractory, as was some- 
 times the case with either sex, were added, at the discretion of the master, 
 the inflictions of the whipping post. Now to the inmates of this dwelling it 
 was customary for the clergy of the town to preach in turn, on Sunday 
 evenings. Accordingly, the two colleagues, Dr. Chauncy and Mr. Clarke, 
 officiated with other brethren; and the texts selected by these gentlemen in 
 one of their turns were highly characteristic of both. Mr. Clarke, in the very 
 fulness of his gentleness and courtesy, addressing himself chiefly to the 
 frailer portion of his hearers, exhibited for his text and their instruction, a 
 part of Solomon's well-known description of a virtuous woman, industriously 
 at work with her maidens, and presiding gracefully over her household: 
 " She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff" — 
 Proverbs xxxi, 19. When Dr. Chauncy came, fixing his regards chiefly upon 
 the male portion of his audience, and not suffering from any excess of sym- 
 pathy with the other, he preached from the words of the Apostle to the 
 Thessalonians, — "If any would not work, neither should he eat." 
 
 It ought to be distinctly stated, however, that Dr. Clarke's gentle and cour- 
 teous demeanour was never at the expense of honesty; and he never permitted 
 himself, from a desire to please, to overlook or confound moral distinctions. 
 Having, in a circle of friends, spoken in terms of decided censure of one whom 
 
112 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 nobody could praise, a lady, who was present, undertook to be offended, and 
 remonstrated with the Doctor on the freedom with which he had spoken of 
 her brother. «■• Madam," replied he, " had I known that the gentleman was 
 your brother, I should perhaps have foreborne expressing my opinion; for I 
 would not unnecessarily give pain to any one. But now that my opinion has 
 been uttered, and I believe it to be just, your relationship to the individual 
 cannot alter it." 
 
 It was in my early boyhood that my much loved and venerated Pastor 
 received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the University of Edinburgh. 
 Taking, as I did, a most lively interest in whatever concerned his fame, I dis- 
 tinctly remember the added satisfaction with which I heard him preach on the 
 first Sunday after it was known that he had become a Doctor. The day was 
 stormy, and there were few present to share my delight. But I really thought, 
 and on returning from church, with some earnestness insisted, even against a 
 paternal dissentient, that Dr. Clarke exceeded himself, and never preached so 
 well. Thus fresh, even to "greenness," were my young ideas as to the effi- 
 cacy of a Doctorate to help to good preaching. 
 
 With every good wish, I am truly yours, 
 
 FRANCIS PARKMAN. 
 
 EZRA RIPLEY, D. D* 
 
 1778—1841. 
 
 Ezra Ripley, a son of Noah and Lydia (Kent) Ripley, was born at 
 Woodstock, Conn., May 1, 1751, though the family removed to Barre, 
 Mass., in 1762. He was the fifth of nineteen children. He followed the 
 business of farming until he was sixteen years of age ; but, having an ardent 
 thirst for knowledge, as well as a decided predilection for the ministry, he 
 then set about preparing himself for college ; and, by the aid of the Rev. 
 Dr. Forbes of Gloucester, was prepared for- admission to Harvard College, 
 and was actually admitted in July, 1772. Notwithstanding, during his 
 course, the College was not a little embarrassed in its operations, from the 
 gathering, and at length bursting, storm of the Revolution, he made the 
 most diligent use of his opportunities, and had a good rank as a scholar in 
 a class distinguished for an unusual proportion of eminent men. His con- 
 duct was marked also by the strictest morality and propriety, insomuch 
 that he was designated by his classmates as the "holy Ripley." 
 
 After his graduation, he was, for some time, engaged in teaching a 
 school in Plymouth, and subsequently studied Theology, for about a year, 
 under the direction of the Rev. Jason Haven, of Dedham. Shortly after 
 he was licensed to preach, the church and Society in Concord, Mass., invi- 
 ted him, with great unanimity, to become their minister. He accepted 
 their invitation, and was ordained on the 7th of November, 1778. During 
 several of the first years of his ministry, he, in common with many other 
 clergymen of the day, suffered not a little from the depreciated currency, 
 and other circumstances connected with the Revolution ; but his early 
 
 ♦ Dr. Ripley's Half Cent. Serm. — Sermons occasioned by his death. 
 
EZRA RIPLEY. 113 
 
 training had been favourable to physical effort, and he addressed himself 
 to the labours of the field with as much success as if he had never known 
 any other employment. He, however, felt it as a great evil that his atten- 
 tion was so much diverted from his appropriate work, and has been heard 
 to say that he would have cheerfully lived on bread and water, if, by so 
 doing, he could have had his whole time for the studies and duties of his 
 office. 
 
 In early childhood, he seems to have evinced a deep moral sensibility, 
 and to have been especially impressed with the guilt of telling a lie. But 
 it was not until he was sixteen years of age that his mind took a decidedly 
 serious direction. In a terrible thunderstorm, the bolt of heaven descended, 
 and, in his own expressive language, "licked up the spirit" of a fellow 
 being before his eyes. Probably to this circumstance was to be referred 
 the purpose which he formed of devoting himself to the ministry. 
 
 The following is an extract from a record which he kept of some of the 
 more striking passages and experiences of his life : — 
 
 " Having set apart this 6th day of November, 1778, as a day of secret fasting and 
 prayer, previous to my expected Ordination, I have renewedly and solemnly dedicated 
 myself to God and his service, and have most seriously formed in his presence the fol- 
 lowing resolutions: 
 " Resolved, 
 
 " 1. That I will endeavour more in future to live agreeably to my vows. 
 
 " 2. That I will maintain a daily and close walk with God. 
 
 " 3. That I will not lose nor misspend precious time. 
 
 " 4. That I will govern my passions. 
 
 " 5. That I will observe strict temperance in eating and drinking. 
 
 " 6. That I will daily watch for opportunities to do good. 
 
 " 7. That I will follow the rule, — ' "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto 
 you. do ye even so to them.' 
 
 " 8. That I will every evening reflect on the transactions of the day, and inquire 
 what and where I might have done more and better. 
 
 " 9. That I will study the Holy Scriptures with so much diligence and application 
 as may make evident to me my increase of knowledge therein. 
 
 " 10. That I will not allow myself in vain and trifling conversation. 
 
 " These to be read or said once a week." 
 
 At the close of thirty years he writes as follows : — 
 
 "With penitence for my frequent deviations from the fixed purposes of my heart, 
 and humble application to the throne of grace, I do renew my engagements to the 
 Lord in the ministry, and particularly to observe with increased, care the preceding 
 resolutions." 
 
 At the close of forty years he makes the following entry : — 
 
 " There is an increased attention of many of my people to religion. I see reason to 
 be deeply humble that, as a minister of Christ, I have done no more and no better, 
 and to be unfeignedly thankful that God has so far owned and blessed my labours; 
 that so many of my people exhibit substantial evidence of possessing real religion, and 
 are generally so well united in religious and civil concerns. It is a rich comfort to me 
 that, by the grace of God, I am conscious of unabated zeal and resolution in the proper 
 duties of my office, and to devote anew the remainder of my days and strength to pro- 
 mote the spiritual interests of my people, accomplish my ministerial work, and to he 
 faithful unto the death." He adds, — "I have half a'mind to erase the preceding, 
 because it seems to savour of self-applause, and promise what may never be done. But 
 will God, in boundless condescension, accept my desires, grant me mercy to pardon, 
 and grace to help, and success to crown, through my blessed Redeemer." 
 
 He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinitv, from Harvard 
 College, in 1816. 
 
 At the time of his settlement, there were serious divisions in the town, 
 which had originated during the ministry of his two predecessors ; but he 
 
 Vol. VIII. 8 
 
114 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 quickly succeeded in healing them, and for forty years the whole town 
 remained firmly united under his ministry. " He was educated," as the Ser- 
 mon preached at his Funeral informs us, " in the Trinitarian and Calvin- 
 istie doctrines ;" but his views seem to have undergone a gradual change, — 
 so gradual that perhaps he was himself scarcely aware of the extent of it. 
 There was little of incident in his history above what belongs to the his- 
 tory of almost every parish minister. He held on the even tenor of his way, 
 greatly respected and revered by the community in which he lived, until 
 sixty-three years from the time of his ordination, and ninety from the time 
 of his birth, had passed away. In his Half-Century Discourse, preached 
 in 1828, he expresses the opinion that he had written, in the course of his 
 ministry, not less than twenty-five hundred sermons, many of which he had 
 repeated, and not a few had re-written. Within the last three or four 
 years of his life, on account of the loss of his sight, he commenced preach- 
 ing extempore ; and, contrary to all that might have been anticipated from 
 his long continued habit of writing whatever he delivered, he uttered him- 
 self with as much fluency and propriety as if he had been accustomed to 
 this mode of preaching during his whole ministry. His last sermon, 
 preached the day after he was ninety years old, on the last two verses of 
 the Book of Ecelesiastes, is said to have been, for vigour of thought and 
 expression, worthy of his best da} T s. 
 
 His death was finally sudden. On Friday evening, September 18, 1841, 
 a friend from a distance visited him, and they passed the evening in delight- 
 ful intercourse ; and, at the close of it, Dr. Ripley led in the family devo- 
 tions with unusual fervour and appropriateness. He retired in perfect 
 health, and, in the course of the night, was seized with a paralytic affec- 
 tion, which took the form of a lethargy, from which he never awoke. He 
 lingered till the next Tuesday morning, about four o'clock, when the spirit 
 took its flight. His Funeral took place on the succeeding Thursday, Sep- 
 tember 23d, on which occasion there was every demonstration of respect 
 for his memory. The Sermon was by his colleague in the ministry, the 
 Rev. B. Frost, from John xvii, 4. Another Sermon, with reference to the 
 event, was delivered by the Rev. Dr. Francis of Watertown, (afterwards 
 Professor Francis of Harvard College,) from Genesis xxv, 8. Both the 
 Discourses were published. 
 
 Dr. Ripley was through life a zealous friend of Harvard College. The 
 following entry in the private record above referred to may illustrate it : — 
 
 " August 27, 1824. Attended Commencement at Cambridge, probably for the last 
 time. My feelings and determination united in taking leave of Commencement, winch 
 has long been a day of enjoymeut and delight to me. I find myself too old for the 
 fatigue and long services of the day. I did not meet one classmate. I felt myself out 
 of date, and though not treated with neglect, yet I am satisfied with scenes of the 
 kind. I was highly gratified with the performances of the day, and by the manifest 
 increase of learning and intellect in the College. The performances of the next day- 
 were excellent and very animating. This and the preceding day were rendered more 
 highly joyous by the presence of General Lalayette. I know not that I ever enjoyed 
 a Comniencmont with a higher relish or less ailoy ; and I never was more gratified by 
 evidence of the improvements made in the University. It is a matter of rejoicing and 
 gratitude that I can bid adieu to Commencements with such high and well-grounded 
 hopes of the future splendour and usefulness of Harvard University. Will God mul- 
 tiply blessings on my venerated Alma Mater to the latest generations! 1 ' 
 
 He did, however, attend Commencement after this : the last time was 
 
EZRA MPLEY. 115 
 
 in 1836, at the second Centennial Anniversary, at which he offered a 
 prayer. 
 
 Dr. Ripley was one of the leaders in the Temperance cause. More, than 
 thirty years before his death, he made an earnest and a successful effort 
 to break up the habit among his people of using intoxicating drinks at 
 Funerals. He was a member of the old Massachusetts Society for the 
 Suppression of Intemperance ; and when the new organization on the prin- 
 ciple of total abstinence was formed, he promptly signed the pledge, not- 
 withstanding his physician expressed an opinion adverse to the measure. 
 
 The following extract from Dr. Ripley's Half-Century Sermon contains 
 his own account of his views of Christian doctrine : — 
 
 " My first sermon was from 1 Cor. ii, 2: 'For I determined not to know any thing 
 among you, save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.' This sermon I have repeated tu 
 you. It ever has been, and still is, my undeviating endeavour arid resolution to preach 
 according to the import and design of those words. In respect to the leading and 
 essential doctrines of the Gospel, I know" not that my sentiments are materially 
 changed. On searching the Scriptures, it may well be supposed that I have gained 
 some farther light, and acquired a better understanding of them. The manner of 
 expressing my ideas also may be different. But I am not sensible of having departed 
 in any degree from the doctrines properly called tlio ' doctrines of grace.' The doe- 
 trine of three equal persons in one God I do not call a doctrine of grace or of the 
 Gospel. We do not find it taught in the Gospel. Whether it be true or not, it is not 
 written in the inspired Scriptures. The doctrine was first taught by fallible men. 
 * * * * But I have uniformly believed and preached that Jesus Christ is 
 the promised Messiah, the only and all-sufficient Saviour of sinners, owned, anointed, 
 and authorized by God as his Son, whom he sent into the world for the great purpose 
 of instructing and redeeming sinful men, of declaring his will, displaying his disposi- 
 tion, righteousness, mercy and whole character, and of mediating between God and 
 his intelligent creatures; and that He was endowed by the Father with all Divine 
 powers requisite to the accomplishment of the great work assigned Him. I believe 
 that He comes to us in the name and authority of God; and that, therefore, we owe 
 Him reverence and honour, love and obedience; and also that the time and manner of 
 his invisible existence, the extent of his dignity and all the relations He sustains towards 
 God and the universe, ' no one knoweth, save the Father only.' 
 
 " On other doctrines, such as the early apostacy of man, moral human depravity, 
 regeneration, that is, a moral change of heart and life in sinners in order to happiness 
 and Heaven, the need ofDivine influence to effect that change; justification through 
 faith in Christ to all who repent and obey the Gospel; Jesus Christ the minister of 
 reconciliation to God, and the meritorious agent and medium of mercy to penitent sin- 
 ners; charity and holiness as necessary to the happiness of Heaven; a judgment to 
 come by the Son of God, when the wicked will go away into everlasting punishment, 
 and the righteous into life eternal. — on these and similar doctrines I have been full in 
 believing and constant in preaching.'' 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Ripley's publications : — 
 A Sermon delivered at the Ordination of William Emerson, at Har- 
 vard, 1791. A Sermon delivered on the Completion of a General Repair 
 of the Meeting House in Concord, 1792. A Sermon delivered at the Ordi- 
 nation of Rosewell Messenger,* 1798. A Sermon delivered on occasion of 
 the Execution of Samuel Smith, for Burglary, 1799. A Masonic Dis- 
 course, delivered at Greenfield, Mass., 1802. A Masonic Discourse, deliv- 
 ered at Haverhill, Mass. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of his 
 Son, Samuel Ripley, 1809. A Sermon delivered at Acton, at the Inter- 
 ment of Mrs. Abigail Adams, wife of the Rev. Moses Adams, t 1812. A 
 
 * Rosewell Messenger was a native of Holliston, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard 
 College in 1797; was ordained, and installed as Colleague Pastor with the Rev. Isaac Lyman 
 of the First Church in York, Me., October 10, 1798; was dismissed in 1813, and died in 1844. 
 
 f Moses Adams was born at Frarningham, October 16, 1749; was graduated at Harvard 
 College in 1771 ; was ordained and installed Pastor of the church in Acton, June 1:5 1777 • 
 and died October 13, 1819, aged seventy. 
 
116 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Sermon delivered at the Ordination of John "White,* 1814. A Sermon 
 delivered at the Installation of the Rev. William Frothingham, 1819. A 
 Sermon delivered at the Ordination of E. Q. Sewall, 1819. A Discourse 
 on Education, delivered at the Opening of several new School Houses, 
 1820. Several Charges and Eight Hands of Fellowship, at Ordinations 
 and Installations. History of the Concord Fight, on the 19th April, 1775, 
 1827. A Sermon in the Liberal Preacher, 1827. A Half-Century Ser- 
 mon, 1828. A Sermon in the Liberal Preacher, 1829. 
 
 Dr. Ripley was married, on the 16th of November, 1780, to Mrs. Phoebe 
 Bliss) Emerson, widow of the Rev. William Emerson, of Concord. They 
 had three children, — one daughter and two sons. The youngest son, Dan- 
 iel Bliss, was graduated at Harvard College in 1805, settled as a lawyer 
 in Alabama, and died there in 1825. Mrs. Ripley died on the 16th of 
 February, 1825. 
 
 Dr. Ripley's eldest son, Samuel, was born in Concord, March 11, 
 1783 ; was fitted for College in the public schools of his native town, and 
 graduated at Cambridge, in good standing, in 1804. After teaching a short 
 time in the South, he prepared for the ministry, and was ordained on the 22d 
 of November, 1809, over the Congregational Church in Waltham, as sue 
 cessor to the venerable Dr. Cushing. After the death of the Rev. Bern 
 ard Whitman, it was proposed that the two Unitarian Societies in Walt 
 ham should be united in one, under the pastoral care of Mr. Ripley 
 associated with a colleague. Accordingly, on the 27th of October, 1841 
 Mr. George F. Simmons was settled as colleague. After a short ministry 
 he resigned his office, and Mr. Thomas Hill (now the Rev. Dr. Hill, Presi 
 dent of Harvard College) was ordained as his successor. Mr. Ripley 
 thinking it would be too great a burden for the Society to support two min 
 isters, resigned his salary, and all responsibleness as minister of the Society 
 at Waltham, before his first colleague was settled, and soon after took the 
 pastoral charge of the Unitarian Church in Lincoln. In the spring of 
 1846, he removed to Concord, and took up his residence in the house in 
 which he had spent his early years. He died suddenly, in his carriage, of 
 disease of the heart, on his way home from the railroad depot, in the midst 
 of his children, on the 24ih of November, 1847, at the age of sixty-four. 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson says of him, — " He was a man of ardent tempera- 
 ment, frank, generous, affectionate, public-spirited, and with a humble esti- 
 mate of himself." 
 
 I once had the privilege of passing a night under Dr. Ripley's roof. He 
 was then an old man, but full of life and spirit. I was struck with the 
 frankness and generosity of his manner, and the simple but warm-hearted 
 hospitality with which he received me. His conversation delighted me, 
 not only because it indicated great intelligence, but because it was about 
 old times and old things, in which I felt a special interest. I well remem- 
 ber how much he was at home amidst the stirring incidents of the Revo- 
 lution, and how vividly he painted many of the scenes of that eventful 
 period. As he talked to me of Hancock and other illustrious men who 
 
 * John White was born in Concord in 1787; was graduated at Harvard College in 1805; 
 was a Tutor in Bowdoin College in 1808-09 ; was ordained and installed Pastor of the West 
 Church in Dedham, April 20, 1814; and died in 1852. 
 
EZRA RIPLEY. 117 
 
 were associated with him, in the days that tried men's souls, he kindled 
 into a fervour of lofty and patriotic feeling, and the past seemed to be 
 reproduced in his vivid impressions and recollections. I thought him a 
 fine specimen of an old school gentleman. He adverted with considerable 
 interest to the great religious controversy that was then going on in Mas- 
 sachusetts, and, in a very decided but courteous manner, expressed his 
 dissent from the views and measures of the Orthodox party. 
 
 FROM RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 Concord, October 25, 1848. 
 
 My dear Sir: It will be easy, as it is grateful, to me to answer your inqui- 
 ries in regard to Dr. Ripley, as I still have by me some sketches which I 
 attempted of his character very soon after his decease. Indeed, he is still 
 freshly remembered in all this neighbourhood. He was a man so kind and sym- 
 pathetic, his character was so transparent, and his merits so intelligible to all 
 observers, that he was very justly appreciated in this community. He was a 
 natural gentleman; no dandy, but courtly, hospitable, manly, and public 
 spirited; his nature social, his house open to all men. I remember the remark 
 made by an old farmer, who used to travel hither from Maine, that "no horse 
 from the Eastern country would go by the Doctor's gate." Travellers from 
 the West and North and South could bear the like testimony. His brow was 
 serene and open to his visitor, for he loved men, and he had no studies, no 
 occupations, which company could interrupt. His friends were his study, 
 and to see them loosened his talents and his tongue. In his house dwelt 
 order, and prudence, and plenty; there was no waste and no stint; he was 
 open-handed and just and generous. Ingratitude and meanness in his benefi- 
 ciaries did not wear out his compassion; he bore the insult, and the next day 
 his basket for the beggar, his horse and chaise for the cripple, were at their 
 door. Though he knew the value of a dollar as well as another man, yet he 
 loved to buy dearer and sell cheaper than others. He subscribed to all chari- 
 ties, and it is no reflection on others to say that he. was the most public spir- 
 ited man in the town. The late Dr. Gardiner, in a Funeral Sermon on some 
 parishioner, whose virtues did not readily come to mind, honestly said, — "He 
 was good at fires." Dr. Ripley had many virtues, and yet all will remember 
 that, even in his old age, if the fire bell was rung, he was instantly on horse- 
 back with his buckets and bag. 
 
 He was never distinguished in the pulpit as a writer of sermons, but in 
 his house his speech was form and pertinence itself. You felt, in his presence, 
 that he belonged by nature to the clerical class. He had a foresight, when he 
 opened his mouth, of all that he would say, and he marched straight to the 
 conclusion. In private discourse or in debate, in the vestry or the lyceum, 
 the structure of his sentences was admirable, — so neat, so natural, so terse, 
 his words fell like stones, and often, though quite unconscious of it, his speech 
 was a satire on the loose, voluminous, patch-work periods of other speakers. 
 He sat down when he had done. A man of anecdote, his talk in the parlour 
 was chiefly narrative. I remember the remark of a gentleman, who listened 
 with much delight to his conversation, at the time when the Doctor was pre- 
 paring to go to Baltimore and Washington, that "a man who could tell a 
 story so well was company for kings and John Quincy Adams." With a 
 very limited acquaiVitance with books, his knowledge was an external experi- 
 ence, an Indian wisdom, the observation of such facts as country life, for 
 nearly a century, could supply. He watched with interest the garden, the 
 field, the orchard, the house and the barn, horse, cow, sheep and dog, and all 
 
118 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 the common objects that engage the thought of the farmer. He kept his eye 
 on the horizon, and knew the weather like a sea-captain. The usual experi- 
 ences of men, — birth, marriage, sickness, death, burial, the common tempta- 
 tions, the common ambitions, he studied them all, and sympathized so well in 
 these that he was excellent company and counsel to all, even the most hum- 
 ble and ignorant. With extraordinary states of mind, with states of enthu- 
 siasm, or enlarged speculation, he had no sympathy and pretended to none. 
 He was very sincere, and kept to his point, and his mark was never remote. 
 His conversation was strictly personal, and apt to the person and the occasion. 
 An eminent skill he had in saying difficult and unspeakable things; in deliv- 
 ering to a man or a woman that which all their other friends had abstained from 
 saying; in uncovering the bandage from a sore place, and applying the sur- 
 geon's knife with a truly surgical spirit. Was a man a sot, or a spendthrift, 
 or too long time a batchelor, or suspected of some hidden crime, or had he 
 quarrelled with his wife, or collared his father, or was there any cloud or 
 suspicious circumstance in his behaviour, the good pastor knew his way 
 straight to that point, believing himself entitled to a full explanation; and 
 whatever relief to the conscience of both parties plain speech could effect, was 
 sure to be procured. In all such passages he justified himself to the con- 
 science, and commonly to the love, of the persons concerned. Many instan- 
 ces, in which he played a right manly part, and acquitted himself as a brave 
 and wise man, will be long remembered. He was the more competent to these 
 searching discourses, from his knowledge of family history. He knew every- 
 body's grandfather, and seemed to talk with each person, rather as the rep- 
 resentative of his house and name than as an individual. In him has per- 
 ished more local and personal anecdote of this village and vicinity than is 
 possessed by any survivor. This intimate knowledge of families, and this 
 skill of speech, and still more his sympathy, made him incomparable in his 
 parochial visits, and in his exhortations and prayers with sick and suffering 
 persons. He gave himself up to his feeling, and said on the instant the best 
 things in the world. Many and many a felicity he had in his prayer, now 
 forever lost, which defied all the rules of all the rhetoricians. He did not 
 know when he was good in prayer or sermon, for he had no literature and no 
 art; but he believed, and therefore spoke. 
 
 He was eminently loyal in his nature, and not fond of adventure or innova- 
 tion. By education, and still more by temperament, he was engaged to the 
 old forms of the New England Church. Not speculative, but affectionate ; 
 devout, but with an extreme love of order, he adopted heartily, though in its 
 mildest forms, the creed and catechism of the fathers, and appeared a modern 
 Israelite in his attachment to the Hebrew history and faith. Thus he seemed, 
 in his constitutional leaning to their religion, one of the rear-guard of the 
 great camp and army of the Puritans; and now, when all the old platforms 
 and customs of the Church were losing their hold in the affections of men, it 
 was fit that he should depart, fit that, in the fall of laws, a loyal man should 
 die. ' Yours, with great respect, 
 
 R. TV. EMERSON. 
 
 PROM THE REV. G. TV. HOSMER, D. D. 
 
 Buffalo, March 14, 1861. 
 
 Dear Sir: Last evening I attended an Old Folks' Concert; the ancient 
 music brought back to me my old Pastor, Dr. Ripley, with striking distinct- 
 ness; and memories of him have so filled my mind, pleasant and grateful 
 _ memories, that I will now fulfil the request you made to me when I last saw 
 you, and give you some of my impressions. 
 
EZRA RIPLEY. 119 
 
 Dr. Ripley filled the town to which he ministered. Nearly fifty years he 
 "was the only minister in Concord, with a parish of about two thousand souls; 
 and to me and my cotemporaries, he seemed as much a part of the town as 
 its hills and rivers. He was settled in the days of my great-grandfather, 
 and five generations of my family were partakers in the benefits of his min- 
 istry. 
 
 In my earliest recollections, he appears the active, urgent, imperative man, 
 always doing, as I supposed, just right; but doing just as he pleased. Some- 
 times, his imperativeness became very stern, whether towards circumstances, 
 animals, or men. When I was a boy, he had a horse he called Csesar, a 
 magnificent animal, but so wilful and vicious that none but Dr. Ripley could 
 control him. The violent creature trembled at the voice of his master. With 
 that horse he did wonders. A young man, in whom he was interested, was 
 about to fight a duel in Boston; Dr. R. did not hear of it until about three 
 hours and a half before the meeting was to have taken place, and he reached 
 Boston, eighteen miles, in season to prevent it. 
 
 An Ordination at Sudbury, six miles from Concord, occurred on the day of 
 a severe snow storm. The roads were blocked up, and snow filled the air. 
 My home was on the way from Concord to Sudbury, and we thought nobody 
 could go to the Ordination that day; but, at length, all in good season, (for he 
 was never late,) came Dr. Ripley on his ~%&y, mounted on Caesar, man and 
 horse leaping through the drifts and storm, followed by his two delegates — 
 they must go, since Dr. Ripley would. So the Ordination was accomplished. 
 At this time the Doctor must have been nearly sixty years old. 
 
 He was of a vigorous family, nineteen brothers and sisters. Whether 
 they all were as compactly formed, and energetic, and keen in every percep- 
 tion, as was the Doctor, I know not. A sister of his I once met, and when 
 I told her that I was of her brother's parish, she fixed her eyes upon me, and 
 called me at once by my mother's name. I told her she was half right — 
 that was my mother's name. " I thought so," said she; "nearly forty years 
 ago I met your mother, I presume, when she and I were girls of seventeen, at 
 my brother's house in Concord." 
 
 Dr. Ripley was born to govern. Sometimes this appeared when it should 
 not. Two ladies of the parish were spending the afternoon with Mrs. Rip- 
 ley, in the good way of the old times; one of them had a little boy, and no 
 servants at home to take care of him, and she took him with her; but, unhap- 
 pily, the young rogue look advantage of his mother's desire to have peace, in 
 the minister's house at least, and played off his naughtiness, until the Doc- 
 tor took the culprit, carried him away, and whipped him; causing much grief 
 and indignation to the poor mother, and not a little fear, I presume, to the 
 young rebel. 
 
 When Dr. Ripley was a young man, his imperative will made trouble for him 
 and others; but he learned to limit and modify his imperativeness, so that his 
 parish was unitedly attached to him, and unusually harmonious. They were 
 willing he should have his way, because they had the fullest confidence in his 
 integrity. Sometimes there was a ripple. The Doctor liked the old custom of 
 putting up notes after the birth of children, and insisted on its continuance, 
 long after it had ceased in neighbouring parishes; and, in defence of the custom, 
 he preached so terribly about the perils of child-birth, that the village phy- 
 sicians feared the effects upon the nerves of those most deeply interested. At 
 
 length Mr. H , a Deacon of the church, was bold enough to carry out an 
 
 infant for Baptism in the church, without having put up a note. The Doctor 
 saw the whole ground, planted himself on his principle, and there he stood 
 by the font. The congregation, intent upon the simple and beautiful rite,. 
 
120 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 waited in expectation. The Doctor called Mr. H to him and said, << Why- 
 have you put up no note since the birth of this child?" " Because," said 
 
 Mr. H , « I thought it no*t best." Said the Doctor, " I think it is best!" 
 
 " Well, said Mr. H , <> don't keep me here; do something." So the Doc- 
 tor offered a prayer of thanksgiving for the birth of the child, and the safety 
 of the mother, and having, as far as possible, made up for the omission, he 
 then performed the rite of Baptism. 
 
 It was not true of Dr. Ripley that his pulpit was his throne. As a 
 Preacher, he was sensible and serious, always moving in the ranges of com- 
 mon thought and practical life. He kept up his scholarly habits better than 
 most country clergymen of his time; but he had no genius; his mind was 
 hard, and the fires of his feeling did not make it fluent in the pulpit, and his 
 manner was not graceful nor winning. His throne was his character, and 
 he sat upon it, a born king. Some might say he was arbitrary and imperi- 
 ous; but all knew he was a man, fearless in his duty, and determined to 
 walk in the ordinances of his God and Saviour, blameless. 
 
 In parochial service, Dr. Ripley was a pattern of fidelity. Every corner of 
 the town, every house, knew his friendly greeting. He knew all about every 
 family, and their ancestors, often better than they r themselves knew. Before 
 Sunday Schools were organized, he met all the children, at their school houses, 
 twice a year, for catechising; and those who did not know their catechism, 
 were made to feel that they must know it before the next parochial round. It 
 was a great moment, when we stood up, for the first time, at the call of our 
 name, before Dr. Ripley. Then he was the main stay of the common schools, 
 and all the benevolent and social organizations of the town. The Courts of 
 Middlesex, one-half of them, were held at Concord, and Dr. Ripley, by his 
 dignified and venerable bearing, and highly appropriate services, won the deep 
 respect of the Judges and the Bar. An old lawyer, who was often employed 
 by Mr. Webster to make briefs for his law arguments, once told me that Dr. 
 Ripley was the only minister he knew, who always prayed consistently at the 
 opening of a Court. Dr. R. occupied a prominent position; he had eminent 
 persons near him, and was always held in honour. The sanctity of his life 
 Has his bpt tribute humbly laid at his Master's feet. 
 
 At home. Dr. Ripley was always the courtly gentleman, bringing the dress 
 and manners of the last century nearly to the middle of this. His house 
 was a venerable mansion, the home of ministers for more than a hundred 
 years, and now is glorified as the " Old Manse," of Hawthorne's Tales. 
 AVhen a boy, I was often sent to bear some gift, the product of my father's 
 farm, or flock, or herd. Those visits were eras in my young life. The Doc- 
 tor was always called, from his study or from the parlour, and I, like an 
 ambassador, was recognized and charged with thanks and compliments to my 
 home government. With what deep veneration I then looked upon our min- 
 ister! And afterwards, when I, a. Theological student, went, at his request, 
 and spent Saturday night in his house, that I might be prepared for Sunday, 
 and preached almost my first sermon in his pulpit, and sat in his study and 
 heard from him that it was his purpose that I should be his colleague and his 
 staff in old ago, I came to love him as deeply as before I had venerated him. 
 I was happy to put a classmate in the place he would have had me fill; and 
 1 saw them happy fellow labourers, — the young Elisha standing by, while the 
 aged Elijah prayed and waited for the chariot to bear him away. 
 
 As Dr. Ripley grew old, his nature grew mellow. His will and his thoughts 
 got into his heart, and he drew the young lovingly about him. He never 
 failed, as old men often do; affection kept him young; he preached better 
 after he was seventy-five years old than ever before; indeed, when almost 
 
EZRA RIPLEY. 121 
 
 blind, and not long before his departure, so full of years, he preached without 
 notes, and they who listened said he never preached so well. I can readily 
 believe it — he was almost home; the light and love of Heaven filled his soul; 
 and that last utterance, at the end of his ninety years' pilgrimage, was his 
 saintly benediction to all of us who follow him. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 G. W. HOSMER. 
 
 FROM EDWARD JARVIS, M. D. 
 
 DoECHESTEit, Mass., July 9, 1864. 
 
 Dear Sir: I was born in Concord, was brought up in Dr. Ripley's congre- 
 gation, and my father was for many years a Deacon of his Church. My recol- 
 lections of him are at once distinct, minute and agreeable, so that I have no 
 difficulty in complying with your request. 
 
 During all my knowledge of Dr. Ripley from my earliest childhood to 1839, 
 two years before his death, his personal appearance seemed to have hardly 
 changed. When I first knew him, he was near sixty years old, and then 
 he seemed to be an old man. And yet he bore none of the marks of old age, 
 save that he wore a gray wig. He was vigorous, very active, bright and 
 cheerful; and so he continued for many years afterwards. 
 
 He wore the same style of dress from my first to last acquaintance. In- 
 deed, he said, a few years before his death, that he had never worn pantaloons, 
 or straight coat, or short vest, or cravat, or narrow-rimmed hat; nor did he 
 afterwards. But he always wore small clothes, long stockings, knee buckles, 
 a very long round coat, the folds reaching to the calf of the leg, a long 
 waistcoat open at bottom with bands over the pockets, white neck stock 
 buckled behind, and a wide-rimmed, low-crowned hat. His dross gave him 
 great personal dignity, and though his frame was short below the average, yet 
 I never heard him spoken of as a short man. 
 
 His manner was highly dignified, rather stately, but very courteous. These 
 qualities he always retained. And though cheerful and very social, he ever 
 manifested his self-respect and commanded the respect of others. To some, 
 the timid, those who knew him but little, this stateliness was forbidding, and 
 they were afraid of him. But to most people he was very approachable and 
 agreeable — with us and with very many he was perfectly familiar. 
 
 Though very kind, his temper was naturally irritable. I never saw any 
 thing of this failing, nor did I ever hear my father refer to it. But it was 
 occasionally spoken of, — more by those who knew him little, or none at all, 
 or who liked to sneer at the ministers. Yet I have no doubt the Doctor did 
 suffer sometimes from this failing; and it required his conscientiousness and 
 severe self-discipline and kindness of heart to keep it in entire subjection. 
 
 Nevertheless he took such a deep and constant interest in the affairs of his 
 people, — of every class, — he so watched the ways and manners of persons of 
 all ages, he watched with such tender anxiety over their happiness and pros- 
 perity, that he made himself very highly acceptable, and was universally 
 respected and loved by the old and young. One little boy was taken ill, and 
 his mother was about to send for the family physician, but the little patient 
 begged her not to send for him, but for Dr. Ripley, whom he liked and who 
 would not hurt him. 
 
 Dr. Ripley was by no means distinguished as a scholar, but his great gift 
 was his knowledge of men and the affairs of the world, his appreciation of its 
 interests and sympathy with its wants. He would have been an excellent 
 man of affairs, and business manager in any way he might have been trained. 
 He was very punctilious in all his business arrangements, exact in his accounts, 
 and methodical in all his private, social and public matters. 
 
122 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. Ripley was by no means strongly marked. Some of his 
 sermons were expositions of Scripture, and some on the duties of life; and 
 the excellency of the virtues, the necessity of religion, were generally promi- 
 nent characteristics. All my father's family went to meeting both forenoon 
 and afternoon. There was no law — we Mere never commanded to go to 
 church ; but we all went as a matter of course, as if nothing else was desira- 
 ble or possible, as we went to our meals or to our beds. We all looked on 
 our own minister as the only possible or desirable man to fill that place. 
 And the idea or the wish to have any other no more occurred to us than to 
 have any other man and woman for our parents. I think this was the-general 
 feeling of the town, though there were some who thought the Doctor was dis- 
 tant, aristocratic, unapproachable. These, however, were the few exceptions. 
 Of course I except from the first category of the entirely contented those who 
 differed from Dr. Ripley and the parish generally in doctrine. These would 
 have been glad of different preaching; and they accordingly had it in the 
 school-house, or in some hall, and ultimately they formed a new Society. 
 Their difference was in doctrine, not in personal respect; for they, ever after 
 their separation, continued to hold him in the same high regard as they had 
 previously. 
 
 Education was Dr. Ripley's especial interest, and from the first to almost 
 the last of his life in Concord, he was officially connected with the public 
 schools, and never did he fail in the discharge of this trust. Through very 
 many years I was brought in contact with him in this way: in my childhood 
 and boyhood as a scholar; as a teacher of the town school for one year after 
 I left College; and as an associate on the Committee with him, after I had 
 entered my profession, from 1832 to 1836. And in all these periods I remem- 
 ber nothing of his language and manner but faithfulness, kindness and firm- 
 ness in duty. In the earlier or the later periods there was never an instance 
 of indifference or neglect, or of censoriousness, or even want of tenderness. 
 He was rigid in his ideas of duty, and exacting from the teachers, but no 
 more than he was in regard to himself. He gave a full measure of his own 
 labour, and he expected the same of others, as toward the schools. This 
 expectation on the part of the Committee, and their firmness in acceptance or 
 rejection, brought a high standard of teachers to the town. And with such 
 the Doctor was kind, happy and very courteous. 
 
 He loved this duty. He was never wanting at the public examination, 
 which he watched very closely; and I well remember how much I res- 
 pected his presence, and yet how I feared to recite before him when I was a 
 child, and how pleasant were his words of approbation after the examination 
 was over. And afterwards, when I was a teacher, the same attention and 
 the same pleasant commendations cheered and strengthened me in my work. 
 
 He seemed to consider all the children as objects of his care and attention. 
 He recognized them in the street. He followed them after they left the 
 schools, and when they, as many of them did, went abroad and laboured in 
 other towns and states, he still retained his interest in their progress and wel- 
 fare. He used to speak with manifest pleasure of his extensive parish ; which 
 had its representatives in almost every State of the Union, and in a large por- 
 tion of the towns of Massachusetts. He made no secret of his gratification 
 when they prospered, or of his sorrow when they failed in fortune, or of his 
 mortification when they failed in character. He seemed to feel that their suc- 
 cess was due in great measure to the training they had received at home and 
 in the schools of Concord. 
 
 No scheme of public improvement failed of securing Dr. Ripley's sympathy. 
 The Temperance Reform was one of his favourites. This was not a mere 
 theory, but it was action, self-denial, though he had not much of the spirit 
 
EZRA RIPLEY. 123 
 
 of indulgence to deny. I never knew or heard, even by tradition, of hia 
 drinking spirit or hardly wine. But I know the preparations for the Com- 
 munion were made, and the plate and vessels kept, at my father's house, 
 being the nearest to the church. One of us, the boys, was always sent to 
 the store Saturday evening to get the Malaga sweet wine for the celebration; 
 and Monday morning we were sent to the Doctor's to carry the remnants of 
 the bread and wine, which, I suppose, was used somehow in his family. I 
 do not know, nor did I ever hear, of his drinking even this; and when the 
 Temperance movement took place, I think this arrangement was discontinued. 
 
 The same power of self-control and moral discipline, the command of his 
 faculties, desires and appetites, made him always prompt in duty, exact in 
 fulfilment of purposes and appointments, and extremely methodical in his 
 habits, both in his private matters and in his relation to others. Whatever 
 he undertook to do, he did in due time and way. 
 
 The front door of his house, where he lived through all the sixty-three 
 years of his life in Concord, opened into an entry that led through the build- 
 ing. In the front on the right was his study, and on the left the parlour. 
 Back of the study was the sitting and dining room, and opposite this was the 
 kitchen. As far back as I can remember, in these rooms and passage-ways 
 the same furniture, — chairs, tables, &c, stood in the same order. Once, when 
 I was going into the house with him, he took off his low-crowned and broad- 
 brimmed hat, and hung it on a large nail at the left side of the study-door. 
 " There, Mr. Jarvis," said he, " I have hung my hat for forty years on that 
 nail and on no other in this house." I then examined the nail, and found it 
 large, well and firmly driven into the casing, and worn somewhat brightly 
 on the upper side. 
 
 All his ministerial relations, all his social relations, his business and pecu- 
 niary offices were managed in the same way. He always had a small salary, 
 but, as he was a very careful economist, and an excellent administrator, he 
 was enabled to gratify his inclination to be very generous. He, in the earlier 
 or middle parts of his ministry, took some boarders; he and his daughters 
 taught some private scholars, and thus money was raised to send his two 
 sons to Harvard College. According to the earlier custom, much was given to 
 him by the farmers and others to eke out his salary. Thus he lived comfort- 
 ably, and within the means granted to him or rather earned by him, and I 
 never knew of his being embarrassed in his pecuniary matters. He owned his 
 house, and several acres of very valuable land, which he cultivated with the 
 ordinary skill and success. 
 
 Allow me to state that there are some interesting reminiscences of Dr. Rip- 
 ley in connection with the battle of Concord. It is a matter of history that 
 on the 19th of April, 1775, the first battle of the Revolutionary War was 
 fought in Concord and Lexington. The river which the British soldiers 
 attempted to cross, was at the foot of Dr. Ripley's garden and along the land 
 that belonged to him. The bridge where these soldiers were turned back was 
 about thirty rods from his house; and the first British soldiers killed in that 
 war lie buried on this land, at the place where the bridge formerly joined the 
 land, in sight of the Doctor's windows. From the period of the Revolution, 
 for fifty years and more, there was a controversy between the towns of Con- 
 cord and Lexington for the honour of making the first forcible resistance to 
 this foreign aggression. Dr. Ripley, true to his town, to the traditions of the 
 place and the opinions of his people, wrote a pamphlet of sixty pages which 
 was printed in 1827, to show that, though the British fired first in Lexington, 
 the Americans fired first in Concord. And therefore to the people of that 
 town, and to others assembled there on' the morning of that day, this honour 
 should be given. 
 
124 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In 1836, the town, with the aid of the State and of subscriptions, built a 
 monument to commemorate this battle. Dr. Ripley gave the land, and a 
 broad avenue leading from the highway to it, through his grounds, and took an 
 intense interest in the structure, which is nigh to his dwelling. The building 
 committee invited such as were able and willing, to propose inscriptions, out of 
 which they would select one to be put on the monument. Many were sent to 
 them, some very elaborate, some brief, and some beautiful. The committee 
 selected one on account of its brevity and sententiousness, and adopted it 
 entire with the exception of a single word, on which hinged the whole con- 
 troversy between Concord and Lexington. The sentence was, "Here was 
 made the first effectual resistance." But the committee, full in the faith that 
 the first resistance by arms was made in Concord, changed the word effectual 
 to forcible, which expressed their ruling idea in this matter. In vain it was 
 urged upon them that the firing by the Americans on the British soldiers at 
 Lexington was yet a mooted question; and even if it were not so, it was no 
 concession of honour to admit that the people of that town did thus attempt 
 to resist the progress of the invaders a few hours before they were resisted in 
 Concord; for the resistance at Lexington was unsuccessful, and the British 
 troops continued on in their intended course Westward, and reached Concord, 
 and there the resistance was effectual. The troops were stopped at the Con- 
 cord bridge and turned back. This was the first time that the Britons were 
 effectually resisted in their war upon American liberties. But notwithstand- 
 ing this argument, the Committee and all who viewed the matter as Dr. Ripley 
 did, adhered to their first opinion that the Concord people made the first for- 
 cible resistance, and this should be put on perpetual record and told to all 
 future generations. They then cared more for the doubtful honour of having 
 fired the first gun than for the certain and greater honour of first turning the 
 tide of war. 
 
 This monument and ground, so near to the Doctor's windows, were, through 
 the rest of his life, objects of affectionate interest, and he seemed to care 
 more for them than for his own estate. 
 
 Dr. Ripley had great confidence in the progress of society. He used to talk 
 with much satisfaction on this subject. He thought each generation improved 
 upon their fathers. He said there was much more religion of heart and life, 
 though perhaps less of the language of religion, in his later than in his earlier 
 years. He often said he loved to associate with young men and women, 
 because they were so much better than the contemporaries of his youth. 
 Consequent^' he drew many young people about him. He entered into their 
 feelings, and they entered into his plans, and thus they cordially and pleas- 
 antly co-operated. Even to his latest years his house was a favourite place 
 for young people of both sexes to visit. 
 
 He was exceedingly affable and courteous. He believed courtesy, regard to 
 the feelings of others, to be a duty. He was punctilious, sometimes ceremo- 
 nious and even stately, when occasion required; but it was all founded in his 
 tender sympathy and his conscientious regard to the happiness of others. 
 When riding anywhere, if he met a Funeral, he always turned his horse to 
 the side of the road, stopped and uncovered his head. He said that, when 
 young, he was in a funeral procession, burying a relative or friend who was 
 very dear to him, and they met a farmer in a waggon who paid this tender 
 respect to the sorrowing mourners, and it so affected his heart that he had 
 done the same ever thereafter. 
 
 Not only was he affable and courteous but very intelligent, with great 
 knowledge of the world, sufficiently learned, and provided with a rich fund of 
 anecdote, and possessed of a great flow of conversation. He was, therefore, a 
 very pleasant as well as a very instructive companion. 
 
JOSEPH MOTTE7. 125 
 
 The same qualities for which Dr. Ripley had been distinguished during his 
 life continued with him till life's close. Especially his indomitable energy, 
 and perseverance, and spirit of self-sacrifice for the benefit of his fellow crea- 
 tures, never forsook him. He was eminently honoured in his life and his 
 death was deeply and widely lamented. 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, very faithfully yours, 
 
 EDWARD JARVIS. 
 
 JOSEPH MOTTEY.* 
 
 1779—1821. 
 
 Joseph Mottey, a son of Joseph and Hannah (Ingals) Mottey, was 
 born in Salem, Mass., May 14, 1756. His father was a native of the Isle 
 of Jersey, and of French extraction, but migrated to this country at an 
 early period of life. During the War of the Revolution, he removed from 
 Salem to Chelmsford, where he died in June, 1777, aged fifty-two years. 
 He was a shipmaster and owner, and his son Joseph, at about the age of 
 fifteen, twice sailed with him to the West Indies. The father was a man 
 of an exemplary moral character, and his mother, a native of Salem, was 
 a devout Christian ; and both of them endeavoured, by precept and exam- 
 ple, to guide their son into the ways of virtue. He was, however, left an 
 orphan, while he was quite young — his mother dying sometime before he 
 entered College, and his father, while he was an under-graduate. He was 
 fitted fur College at Dummer Academy, Byfield, and, at the age of about 
 eighteen, entered Dartmouth College, where he graduated in August, 1778. 
 Both at the Academy and at College, he sustained a high reputation for 
 talents, industry and propriety of conduct. 
 
 Immediately after his graduation, he was employed in Phillips' Academy, 
 Andover, then recently opened, and was the first Assistant of its first Pre- 
 ceptor, the liev. Eliphalet Pearson. He was afterwards employed, either 
 as Assistant or Principal, in Dummer Academy. The exact time when he 
 began to preach cannot now be ascertained ; though it is believed to have 
 been soon after he left College. He preached as a candidate in Marble- 
 head, Linebrook parish in Rowley, and Newbury ; and, from the two last 
 named places, received invitations to settle, which he declined. He sup- 
 plied the pulpit atLynnfield for three years ; meanwhile declining all over- 
 tures of the people towards a permanent settlement ; but he finally yielded 
 to their wishes, and was ordained on the 24th of September, 1783. Here, 
 within the limits of a small parish, and in circumstances of great seclu- 
 sion, he passed the remainder of his days. 
 
 On Sunday, July 1, 1821, he preached both parts of the day with his 
 usual interest, and, at the close of the morning service, administered the 
 ordinance of the Supper. After the public exercises of the day, he con- 
 versed with his family, as he frequently did, upon the subjects on which 
 he had been discoursing. " I have been labouring,'* said he, among other 
 
 * Sketch of his life by Rev. David Damon. — Mss. from Rev. A. Gannett and Mrs. Bancroft. 
 
126 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tilings, " to persuade those who heard me, to love God. I love Him — I 
 do not fear Him,"— meaning, by the last expression, that he did not 
 fear to place himself and all which belonged to him, at the Divine dis- 
 posal. During the early part of the week, he continued in his usual 
 health, and was occupied with his parochial duties. On Thursday morning, 
 he was somewhat unwell, though there was nothing to indicate serious ill- 
 ness; but he observed to a friend who called to see him that, if it were 
 'the will of God, he could wish that this might prove to be his last illness. 
 On Saturday evening it became apparent that his disease was taking on an 
 alarming form, and he consented that a physician should be called. Soon 
 after, he experienced such prostration and distress that he was able to speak 
 only with the greatest difficulty. He gave a few directions, which evi- 
 dently implied a full conviction that the hour of his departure had nearly 
 come, and then remained in perfect calmness until death had done its work. 
 He died on Monday, the 9th of July, after an illness of five days. 
 
 Mr. Mottey was married to Eliza Moody, of York, Me., at Byfield, 
 Mass., April 12, 1780. They had five children, — three sons and two 
 daughters. Mrs. Mottey died on the 27th of August, 1789, at the age of 
 thirty-two. Mr. M. never formed a second matrimonial connection, but 
 lived a widower thirty-two years. Mrs. Henry Bancroft, of Lynnfield, is 
 the only one of his children who now survives. 
 
 Mr. Mottey published a Sermon on the Death of the Rev. Joseph Boby 
 at Lynn, 1803, and an Address delivered at the Close of the War between 
 England and the United States, 1815. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ALLEN GANNETT. 
 
 Lynnfield, Mass., June 17, 1882. 
 
 Dear Sir: No one now remembers the earl)"- part of Mr. Mottey 's ministry, 
 but numbers are still living, whose recollections of him, as he was in later 
 years, are distinct and vivid. I have endeavoured to gain from them the most 
 exact impression of him that I could. Of course, it is not just what it would 
 be, had I known him, or even seen him only for an hour; but the facts that 
 will be stated you may rely upon as correct. One daughter, who was always 
 with him till his death, 'has spoken to me freely of him. 
 
 Mr. Mottey was of medium size, erect figure, quick movements, and com- 
 manding presence. His complexion was light, his features regular, and his face 
 altogether might be said to be handsome. His hair, which hung in ringlets 
 about his shoulders, had fallen off considerably some years before his death. 
 He wore small clothes till the last, and was very neat in personal appearance 
 and in all his habits. In that respect he would have satisfied even the author 
 of " Recreations of a Country Parson." An anecdote or two will illustrate 
 and justify what has now been said. One extremely cold winter's night, after 
 going to bed, he came to the conclusion that he should certainly die before 
 morning. While reflecting upon it, and on being found dead in his bed, he 
 bethought him that his appearance, as he then was, would not be just what 
 he should like. So, getting up, he put on clean linen, and jumped into bed 
 again. Very soon he fell asleep, slept soundly till morning, and, on awaking, 
 was quite astonished to find that he was not dead. On the day of his Funeral, 
 many went to see his garden, which he always took care of himself; and it 
 was a common remark that there was not a weed to be found in it. 
 
 His integrity and exactness in all his dealings were proverbial. If, at any 
 
JOSEPH MOTTEY. 127 
 
 time, he could not make change, for lack of half a cent, he was sure to remem- 
 ber and pay it afterwards. 
 
 In temperament Mr. Mottey was nervous and sensitive. Naturally, also, 
 he was very modest and diffident. He rarely appeared in any pulpit other 
 than his own. Though only nine miles from Salem, his native place, he could 
 not be persuaded to preach there. He used to say that he would rather preach 
 three Sabbaths at home than one away. Even at home, it seems to have beei' 
 sometimes a trial to him. His daughter has told mo that he, many times, 
 said to the family, of a Sabbath morning, that he shoul'd not live through the 
 day. After the labours of the day were over, he would tell them that he felt 
 very well, though he really thought in the morning he should not live till 
 night. Yet he seems never to have been troubled with religious despondency 
 or gloom. 
 
 His sensibilities were delicate and refined. No one could remember that he 
 ever kept a horse; but when I inquired of his daughter, she told me that he 
 used to say he would not take a wife from her father's house to deny her any 
 comforts to which she had been accustomed. So, after his marriage, he kept 
 a horse and chaise till the death of his wife, who died young. He used to tell 
 his daughter, who was born the day of her mother's death, that the chaise 
 was sold to pay for her nursing. The horse died, and he never had another. 
 
 Mr. Mottey was genial, affable, and very fond of social converse, though 
 rarely going beyond the bounds of his own parish. He was also quick of per- 
 ception, and could readily adapt himself to all sorts of people. He would 
 inquire about their business, trade or profession, in a way to awaken interest 
 and gain information. He was much interested in young students, and was 
 very fond of theological discussions with men of his profession. 
 
 His peculiarities were marked and striking, — amounting, perhaps, to eccen- 
 tricity. A parishioner said to him one day, — " Mr. Mottey, you are a very 
 odd man." " Yes," said he, << I set out to be a very good man, and soon 
 found that I could not without being very odd." His peculiarities, however, 
 were not, in any offensive sense, oddities — they were perfectly natural, and 
 he was esteemed none the less on account of them. 
 
 His habits of intercourse with his people were free and familiar. He had 
 great command of Scripture language, and was accustomed to blend it aptly 
 in his conversation. In that way, as well as by the expression of his sym- 
 pathy, he interested them at all times, and greatly comforted them in their 
 seasons of affliction. Though seldom going abroad, he knew much better than 
 many who were less recluse, what was going on in the world. He was stu~ 
 dious and read much. His own library was small; and he used to say that, 
 if his people had paid him a better salary, so that he could have bought more 
 books, perhaps his religious opinions would not have changed. His sermons 
 were well written, and his preparations for the Sabbath were seasonably made. 
 Yet his way was to write when in the mood for it. In his observance of the 
 Sabbath he was always very strict. He said he did not wish to make it a 
 distinctly Jewish Sabbath, but to keep it in a proper manner. With him it 
 began on Saturday at sunset; and he would allow of no out-door recreation, 
 or work in the house- that could be put off till after the same time next day. 
 
 Some time after his settlement, his religious opinions underwent a change. 
 The Rev. Mr. Damon, who knew him well, says it was << at a period when his 
 greatest afflictions were fresh upon him." That was in 1789. In 180:', he 
 published a sermon in which, while discarding the view that "the incarna- 
 tion, obedience, and sufferings of Christ were necessary to persuade the Deity 
 to a placable disposition towards men," or, «< to satisfy Divine Justice," he 
 yet says, "his sufferings are necessary to vindicate the Father's character, 
 and preserve the dignity of his government in the extension of mercy to sin- 
 
128 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tiers;" and " the death of Christ was necessary to render our salvation pos- 
 sible." In the last sermon he preached, from the text, — " It is I; be not 
 afraid," he said, " The present government of the world, the Scripture hath 
 taught us, God hath consigned to the hands of Jesus Christ;" and << He is 
 the constituted Sovereign Judge of mankind," with much more to the same 
 purpose. At the same time, he spoke of the great importance of having right 
 views of the character of Christ, and set forth several theories that were held, 
 but did not distinctly state his own. But, whatever he may have thought of 
 the person and work of Jesus, he did not believe the doctrine of the Trinity. 
 He used to say that it was our business to receive Him as the Saviour of the 
 world, and not trouble ourselves about the metaphysics of God. He was par- 
 ticularly hostile to the doctrine of original sin, as he understood it, regarding 
 it as lying at the foundation of what is called the Orthodox scheme. Having 
 heard that one of his nearest neighbours in the ministry, who was among the 
 highest of the high Hopkinsians, had a daughter born to him, — meeting him 
 one day, he asked what he called her. " Angelina," was the answer. 
 "Angelina!" said Mr. Mottey, "I should think that, with your notions, you 
 would call her Beelzebuba." 
 
 Mr. Damon speaks of Mr. Mottey's mind as << certainly nearly approach- 
 ing the highest order." Judging of it from the few of his sermons that I have 
 read, I should say, unhesitatingly, that he was possessed of superior abilities. 
 His greatest admirers do not claim that he was, in the common acceptation of 
 the word, an eloquent man. He appears to have read his sermons, with very 
 little action or variety of tone. Yet educated men were attracted from neigh- 
 bouring parishes to hear him. In the delivery of his sermons, he often showed 
 great sensibility, and sometimes his emotion was so great as, for the moment, 
 to obstruct his utterance. He was singularly mild invoice and manner; dwelt 
 much on the merciful government of God, and did not meddle with contro- 
 versy in the pulpit. His- sermons were correctly written, and the train of 
 thought was progressive and well sustained; but I think his originality and 
 intellectual force must have been more strikingly exhibited in his conversation 
 than his sermons. Some months before his death, he sat in an Ecclesiastical 
 Council at an Ordination service, with President Kirkland, of Harvard Col- 
 lege. "When the festivity was over, Dr. Kirkland said, — " Is it possible that 
 there is such a man within twelve miles of Cambridge, and yet I have never 
 heard of him before?" It has been said, I believe with truth, that he would 
 have received the degree of Doctor of Divinity at the next Commencement, had 
 he lived till then. With much esteem, 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 
 ALLEN GANNETT. 
 
 JOHN PRINCE, LL. D* 
 
 1779—1836. 
 
 John Prince, a son of John Prince, was born in Boston, July 22, 1751. 
 His parents were worthy, excellent people, and were careful to train their 
 son to knowledge and virtue. His father, being a mechanic, designed that 
 the son should be one also ; and, accordingly, he was bound out as an appren- 
 tice to a pewterer and tinman, and continued to labour industriously in 
 this employment, until his indentures had expired. 
 
 •Fun. Serm. by Rev. C. W. T/pham.— Salem Reg. 1836.— Ms. from Hon. D. A. White. 
 
JOHN PRINCE. 129 
 
 But his heart, during all this time, had been in his books rather than 
 in his trade. He seemed to have no interest in the usual sports of boy- 
 hood ; and his hours of leisure, during his apprenticeship, were sacredly 
 devoted to the acquisition of knowledge. As soon as he was at liberty, he 
 commenced a course of study preparatory to entering College ; and, in a 
 very short time, was ready to be admitted. He entered Harvard College 
 in 1772, and, about the same time, was admitted to the communion of the 
 church, then unaer the pastoral care of the Kev. Dr. Andrew Eliot, of 
 Boston. After leaving College, in 1776, he was engaged for some time in 
 teaching a school. He pursued his theological studies under the direction 
 of the Kev. Samuel Williams, of Bradford, Mass., afterwards a Professor 
 in Harvard University. 
 
 At the death of "Dr. Andrew Eliot, in 1779, Mr. Prince, having just 
 completed his preparation for the ministry, was invited to officiate as a 
 candidate for the then vacant pulpit; but, as many in the congregation 
 were desirous that Dr. Eliot should be succeeded by his son, who also was 
 then just entering the ministry, Mr. Prince magnanimously declined even 
 the appearance of competition with him, and refused to be considered as a 
 candidate. Shortly after, he received an invitation to preach with refer- 
 ence to settlement, to the First Church in Salem ; and, in due time, a 
 call from that church was made out for him ; and, having accepted it, he 
 was regularly constituted its Pastor, on the 10th of November, 1779, — 
 the Sermon on the occasion being preached by his theological instructor, 
 the Rev. Samuel Williams. 
 
 Mr. Prince's passion for acquiring knowledge early took a direction 
 towards Natural Philosophy. In November, 1783, just four years from 
 the time of his ordination, when he was thirty-two years of age, he com- 
 municated to the scientific world an improved construction of the air-pump. 
 His letter to President Willard of Harvard College, giving an account of 
 it, is preserved in the first Volume of the Memoirs of the American Aca- 
 demy. This invention gave him a place among the first philosophers and 
 mechanicians of his day. In this favourite field he continued to labour 
 more or less till the close of his life. 
 
 In 1795, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Laws from 
 Brown University. 
 
 Dr. Prince continued the sole Pastor of the church until December 8, 
 1824, when the B-ev. Charles W. Upham was set apart as his colleague. 
 He, however, subsequently shared the services of the Sabbath, until the 
 infirmities of age, and the inroads of disease, obliged him partially, and at 
 length entirely, to withdraw. He preached his last sermon on the 17th of 
 April, 1836, — less than seven weeks previous to his death. On the 4th 
 of June, he bequeathed nearly four hundred and fifty volumes, of great 
 value, as a theological library for the perpetual use of the ministers of the 
 church with which he had been so long connected. He dictated to his col- 
 league the following words, which were written, by his direction, on the 
 catalogue of the books, over his signature : — " Sensible of the kindness of 
 my people, through my long ministry and life, I bequeath these books as a 
 lasting memorial of my affectionate gratitude." He died on the 7th of 
 
 Vol. VIII. 9 
 
100 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 June, 1836, aged nearly eighty-five years. His Funeral Sermon was 
 preached by his colleague, the Rev. Mr. Upham, and was published. 
 
 Dr. Prince was married, in March, 1780, to Mary Bailey, of Boston, 
 Dy whom he had four children, all of them sons. She died December 4, 
 1806, aged fifty-two. On the 27th of November, 1816, he was married to 
 Mrs. Mille Waldo, widow of Dr. Jonathan Waldo, of Salem. She was 
 originally from Wrentham, and her maiden name was Messenger. Dr. 
 Prince's eldest son (John) was graduated at Harvard College in 1800, 
 became a lawyer, and also clerk of the judicial courts in the County of 
 Essex. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Prince's publications ; — 
 A Discourse delivered at Salem on the day of the National Fast, ap- 
 pointed by President Adams, on account of the Difficulties existing between 
 the United States and France, 1798. A Discourse upon the Close of the 
 Year, recommending the Improvement of Time, 1799. A Discourse deliv- 
 ered before the Salem Female Charitable Society, 1806. A Discourse 
 occasioned by the Death of the Rev. Thomas Barnard, D. D., 1814. A 
 Charge to John Emery Abbot, at his Ordination in Salem, 1815. A 
 Discourse delivered in Salem before the Bible Society of Salem and its 
 Vicinity, 1816. A Charge to Richard Manning Hodges, at his Ordina- 
 tion in Bridgewater, 1824. Description of a new stand for a Reflecting 
 Telescope. 
 
 FROM THE HON. JOSEPH E. SPEAGUE. 
 
 Salem, September 29. 1851. 
 
 My dear Sir: My opportunities for knowing the late Dr. Prince were 
 probably not exceeded by those of any person now living. He was the class- 
 mate in College of my father, Dr. William Stearns, and they were always 
 intimate friends. Both my father and my grandfather, Joseph Sprague, whose 
 name I took, belonged to his Society, and I was myself a member of his 
 .church about twenty-five years. My first recollection of him is his offer- 
 ing a prayer at my sister's funeral, when I was five years old. As a child, a 
 youth, and a man, I knew him well, and such was the estimation in which I 
 held him, that it gives me pleasure to communicate to you my impressions 
 .concerning his character. 
 
 In person Dr. Prince was large and well formed, and had a face expressive 
 of a thoughtful and earnest mind, and a kindly and generous spirit. His man- 
 ners were gimple and agreeable, but yet dignified and commanding. His mind 
 was uncommonly inquisitive; and no field of knowledge could be open to him, 
 which he was not intent upon exploring. His memory seemed like an inex- 
 haustible treasury — everything that he had read and heard was deposited 
 there, and his knowledge was so systematized as always to beat command. He 
 had fine powers of conversation; and, as his life had been an eventful one, he 
 could make himself most agreeable and entertaining to any company, gather- 
 ing his materials altogether from within the circle of his own experience and 
 observation. He was full of the milk of human kindness, and his house 
 was a perfect museum of curiosities. 
 
 With high intellectual qualities he combined great manliness of spirit, pru- 
 dence and generosity. He seemed always inclined to look on the bright 
 side of men's characters; and even where he knew there were great defects, he 
 was disposed to pass them over in silence. I do not suppose that a case ever 
 occurred, during his whole ministry, in which he was even suspected of hav- 
 
JOHN PRINCE. 131 
 
 mg done anything needlessly to injure the reputation, or wound the feelings, 
 of a single individual in the community. He had a quick sense both of jus- 
 tice and of honour, that was apparent in all his conduct. 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. Prince could not, certainly within my day, have been 
 considered popular. Though his appearance in the pulpit was always venera- 
 ble, and his tones of voice melodious and impressive, he greatly lacked anima- 
 tion, and often failed to interest you from the fact that he seemed so little 
 interested himself. In his theological views I have always understood that 
 he was an Arminian and an Arian; but I do not think that he ever preached 
 distinctively upon any of the points of controversy which, in his day, agitated 
 the New England churches. His sermons were always marked by good sense, 
 and were written in a style of great simplicity and perspicuity. It is due to 
 candour, however, to say that they were less elaborated than some of his 
 people could have wished; and I think it quite probable that if he had not 
 been so good a, philosopher, he would have been a better preacher. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say that, in the department of Natural Philoso- 
 phy, especially in the framing of philosophical instruments, Dr. Prince has 
 had few, if any, superiors. In this respect, he had a European, as well as an 
 American, reputation. He corrrespouded extensively with several distin- 
 guished philosophers in Great Britain, and his labours were referred to, in 
 terms of the highest respect, in several of their most valuable publications. 
 In an edition of the Celestial Globe, published in London, by one of Dr. 
 Prince's correspondents, (Mr. Adams,) the constellation of the'air pump was 
 marked "Prismatica Princiana;" which led some one to say that Dr. Prince's 
 name was written in Heaven. The high estimate in which bis philosophical 
 attainments were held, was the means of inducing several young persons, of 
 both sexes, to come from a distance and board with him, that they might 
 receive instruction from him in Philosophy, and especially Astronomy. Among 
 them, I well remember, was Miss Catherine G. Hickling, daughter of the United 
 States Consul at St. Michaels; and, at the same time, William (late Judge) 
 Prescott, the son of the hero of Bunker Hill; and here it was that the pre- 
 liminaries were settled for a matrimonial connection, to which the world is 
 indebted for one of the greatest historians of modern times. 
 
 Allow me, before I close this communication, to state some incidents in Dr. 
 Prince's life, which I received from his own lips, and some of which may serve 
 to show how much he was identified with some of the most appalling scenes of 
 the Revolution. He mentioned to me, as a remarkable instance of the care of 
 Divine Providence, that, whilst a student in Divinity with Mr. Williams, of 
 Bradford, he crossed the ice to Haverhill, and staid till late at night, when he 
 recrossed it in returning home; but, as he rose the next morning, and looked 
 from his window towards the river, the ice had all passed away. He had 
 more interesting anecdotes of the incipient stages of the Revolution than any 
 man I ever knew. At the time of the Boston Massacre, he was in State Street, 
 and saw the whole; and, if I mistake not, he was a witness at the trial of 
 Captain Preston and his soldiers. He was at Governor Hutchinson's house, at 
 North End, when it was visited by the mob. He was at the Town-meeting, 
 preliminary to the destruction of the tea ships. He was afterwards at the 
 conference at Dr. Church's, where the measures were concerted for destroying 
 the tea, and was on board the ships when it was actually destroyed. He was 
 the first to carry the news to General Warren that the British troops had 
 left Boston for Lexington.' Before he returned, he was standing at the head 
 of Milk Row in Charlestown, with two or three other persons at his side, 
 armed with muskets. He saw a person riding rapidly on horseback, and, as 
 he passed them his cloak blew open, and disclosed a British uniform. One or 
 more of them levelled their pieces at the horseman, and were nearly in the 
 
- 132 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 act of firing, when Mr. Prince struck the guns up with his cane, saying, as he 
 did it, "Don't kill him," or '-Don't hurt him," or << Don't fire." This 
 horseman was Colonel Small of the British army, hurrying into Boston, to 
 inform the Commander of the straits into which the troops at Lexington and 
 Concord had fallen. But for this, Lord Percy would not have gone out with 
 his reinforcements, and the British troops, would all have heen intercepted 
 and captured. Yours very faithfully, 
 
 JOSEPH E. SPRAGUE. 
 
 AARON BANCROFT, D. D * 
 
 1779—1839. 
 
 Aaron Bancroft was born at Reading, Mass., November 10, 1755. 
 His father, Samuel Bancroft, was a highly respectable citizen, and a Deacon 
 of the church to which he belonged. He was a member of the council that 
 dismissed the Rev. Jonathan Edwards from Northampton, and, with his 
 Pastor, the Rev. William Hobby,t protested against the decision of the 
 majority. His mother, according to his own testimony, was " a pious and 
 affectionate woman, who did every thing for him by her care, precept and 
 example, that a tender mother in her situation could do for a child." That 
 his pareuts were thoroughly Puritan in their religious views, and that he 
 was himself early inclined to dissent from them, is sufficiently manifest 
 from the following extract from one of his private papers : — " The West- 
 minster Assembly's Shorter Catechism was early taught me. While young, 
 I was, by my father, appointed reader to the family on Saturday evenings, 
 and Willard's Body of Divinity, a large folio, was selected as my book. 
 The Catechism I never understood or loved — my mind revolted against 
 Willard. I could not assent to the popular creed ; and I well remember 
 the throes of my youthful mind when dwelling upon religious subjects." 
 
 His early years were spent in labouring upon a farm ; and, as his father 
 was an extensive landholder, and had himself a preference for agricultural 
 pursuits, it was rather his desire that the son should become a farmer 
 likewise. He, however, yielded to his son's wish for a liberal education, 
 and allowed him to avail himself of such helps as his native town afforded, 
 partly at a grammar-school, and partly under the instruction of his min- 
 ister, to prepare for College. He entered at Harvard, at the age of nine- 
 teen, in the year 1774; and, though his collegiate course was not a little 
 
 * Dr. Hill's Fun. Serm. — Ms. from his daughter, Mrs. Davis. 
 
 f William Hobby was born in Boston, August 13, 1709 ; was graduated at Harvard College 
 in 1725; was ordained at Reading, September 5, 1733; and died June 18, 1765. He was dis- 
 tinguished as well for his natural endowments as his acquirements. He preached with great 
 fluency, copiousness and unction, and was a staunch advocate for the doctrines of Calvinism. 
 He died in the joyful assurance of entering upon a better life. He left behind him a Serious 
 Address to his People, — which is preserved in the fifth volume of the Massachusetts Mission- 
 ary Magazine, — charging them to choose, as his successor, a faithful preacher of the Gospel. 
 He published, The Faithful Minister the Glory of Christ : A Sermon at the Ordination of 
 Daniel Emerson, at Hollis, N. H., 1743; An Inquiry into the Itinerancy and Conduct of the 
 Rev. George AVhitefield, 1745; A Discourse entitled " Self-examination in its Necessity and 
 Advantages," 1746; A Vindication of the Protest against Jonathan Edwards' Dismission, 
 1751 ; An Artillery Election Sermon, 1757. 
 
t 
 
 AARON BANCROFT. 133 
 
 embarrassed and interrupted by the storm of the Revolution, he made the 
 best use of the advantages afforded him, and graduated with honour in 1778. 
 
 Ou leaving College, he was engaged, for a short time, in teaching the 
 public school in Cambridge ; but, after a few months, he commenced the 
 study of Theology, under the minister of his native parish, the Rev. Thomas 
 Haven ;* concerning whom he wrote, in after life, that he " was a man of 
 fine intellect, liberal in his sentiments, and a sound, if not a learned, theo- 
 logian." His theological course must have been very brief, as he com- 
 menced preaching in the autumn of the year 1779. Early in the spring of 
 1780, when he had preached but a few times, an application was made to 
 him to go on a mission to Nova Scotia ; and, though many of his friends 
 advised him strongly against it, he determined to engage in the proposed 
 mission. Accordingly, having obtained permission of the Executive 
 Council of Massachusetts, (for the Revolutionary "War was^ then at its 
 height,) he went to Nova Scotia, and remained there three years, passing 
 his time principally at Yarmouth, Annapolis Royal, and Horton. Though 
 he had few advantages here for intellectual improvement, he had the oppor- 
 tunity of witnessing the developments of human nature under various, and 
 some very peculiar, circumstances, and, on the whole, he considered this 
 period as having marked a very important epoch in his life. 
 
 Mr. Bancroft returned to New England in July, 1783, and, immedi- 
 ately after he reached home, received an invitation to preach as a candi- 
 date in Worcester, Mass. ; the Rev. Mr. Maccarty, the Pastor of the 
 church there, being prevented by illness from performing his accustomed 
 duties. As the church was generally Calvinistic, and he an Arminian, aud 
 an Arian, he was not acceptable as a preacher to the majority; and yet 
 there were a considerable number, and among them some of the most pro- 
 minent members of the congregation, who were greatly pleased with his 
 ministrations. When Mr. Maccarty, being partially restored to health, 
 resumed his duties, Mr. Bancroft, having completed his engagement, 
 preached for a short time in several other places. In the spring of 1784, 
 he supplied the pulpit in Stoughton, (now Canton,) eight Sabbaths ; and, 
 though they had been accustomed to Calvinistic preaching, and Mr. Ban- 
 croft held a different system, and " composed and delivered three sermons, 
 liberal to the extent of" his ,: faith," the parish gave him a nearly unani- 
 mous call to settle among them ; but he returned a negative answer. In 
 the autumn of the same year, he was invited to preach as a candidate in 
 East Windsor, Conn. ; but, though some of the most prominent members 
 of the congregation favoured his settlement, a large majority, not sympa- 
 thizing with his theological views, were found adverse to it. 
 
 The church in Worcester having become vacant, in July, 1784, by the 
 death of Mr. Maccarty, Mr. Bancroft preached there, by request of a 
 committee of the town, in October following, and in January of the next 
 
 * Thomas Haven was a native Wrentham, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1765 ; was ordained Pastor of the Congregational Church in Reading, November 7, 1770 ; and 
 died May 7, 1782, agetl thirty-nine. He published a Sermon at the Ordination of Jacob Bur- 
 nap; [who was a native of Reading; was graduated at Harvard College in 1770; was or- 
 dained Pastor of the Church in Merrimac, N. H., October 14, 1772; and died December 26, 
 1821, aged seventy-three. He published a Fast Sermon, 1799; and a Discourse at the Funeral 
 of Joseph Kidder, 1819. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Har- 
 vard College, in 1814.] 
 
134 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 year, but the town refused to settle him as their minister. In consequence 
 of this, a Second Congregational Church was formed, consisting of those 
 who were friendly to Mr. Bancroft's peculiar views, and he accepted an 
 iuvitation to become their Pastor. He was ordained and installed on the 
 1st of February, 1786, — the Sermon on the occasion being preached by the 
 Rev. Dr. Thomas Barnard of Salem. It was published. 
 
 Mr. Bancroft was married to Lucretia, daughter of the Hon. John 
 Chandler, of Worcester, in October, 1786. She died April 27, 1839, aged 
 nearly seventy-four years. 
 
 Iu the early part of his ministry, Mr. Bancroft had many obstacles to 
 contend with. His doctrinal belief was a bar to ministerial exchanges in 
 the neighbourhood, and for several years he preached nearly the whole 
 time to his own people. His pecuniary circumstances were also consider- 
 ably straitened ; but, notwithstanding this, when the Society voted, in 
 1789, to build a new house for public worship, he voluntarily relinquished 
 one third of his salary, from a desire to bear his full proportion of the 
 common burdens. Some years, in order to make out sufficient means of 
 support for his family, he gave instruction to young men, and to the daugh- 
 ters of some of his parishioners, and received boarders into his house. His 
 great moral courage and energy of character carried him triumphantly 
 through difficulties, before which a less earnest and intrepid spirit would 
 have quailed. 
 
 In 1807, Mr. Bancroft published the Life of General Washington ; — a 
 work on which he had bestowed great labour, and for which he received high 
 and deserved praise. It was originally printed in one volume, octavo, but, 
 in 1826, it was republished in two volumes, as one of the series of the Bed- 
 liugton Cabinet Library. 
 
 In 1810, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 In 1821, Dr. Bancroft preached a series of Sermons on Christian Doc- 
 trines. They excited great interest among his people, and were published, 
 by their request, in an octavo volume, the next year". The Elder Presi- 
 dent Adams, in acknowledging the receipt of a copy of the work, which 
 had been sent him by the author, writes as follows, under date of January 
 24, 1823 :— 
 
 " I thank you for your kind letter of December 30th; and above all for the gift of a 
 precious volume. It is a chain of diamonds set in links of gold. I have never read, 
 nor heard read, a volume of sermons better calculated and adapted to the age and 
 country in which it was written. I have conversed freely with most of the sects in 
 America, and have not been inattentive to the writings and reasonings of all denomi- 
 nations of Christians and Philosophers; but, after all, I declare to you that your 
 twenty-nine sermons have expressed the result of all my reading, experience, and 
 reflections, in a manner more satisfactory to me than I could have done in the best 
 days of my strength." 
 
 Dr. Bancroft continued alone in his pastoral charge till March, 1827, 
 when he was relieved by the accession of a colleague, the Rev. (now Dr.) 
 Alonzo Hill. Subsequent to this, however, he was active in the duties 
 of his profession, preaching or performing more or less of private pastoral 
 service, as occasion might require. On the 31st of January, 1836, he 
 delivered a Discourse, on the termination of fifty years of his ministry, 
 
AARON BANCROFT. 135 
 
 which was afterwards printed, by request of the Society, with valuable his- 
 torical notes. In this Sermon he says, — 
 
 " If the question of improvement has respect to the members of the Society, who 
 are the individuals to whom I can appeal? They who with me began their course of 
 Christian improvement, are removed from life; but one man remains of those who 
 invited me to settle with them as their minister; and but two women now live, who, 
 at that time, were heads of families. I am the oldest man in the parish, with one 
 exception, and his connection with us was but of yesterday. I have been longer in a 
 married state with one wife than any other living member of our community. I have 
 outlived my generation, and, in the midst of society, may be considered a solitary 
 man." 
 
 Dr. Bancroft preached, for the last time, in his own pulpit, on the last 
 Sabbath of January, 1839 ; and, two Sabbaths later, he preached at the 
 Hospital in Worcester, which proved to be the last public service he ever 
 performed. His health was now so far impaired that he was able only 
 occasionally to attend public worship on the Sabbath ; and, with the death 
 of his wife, which occurred in the spring, he relinquished all hope of reco- 
 very, and betook himself to his chamber with the confidence that he was 
 soon to die. He died on the 19th of the succeeding August, and his 
 Funeral Sermon was preached by his colleague, the Kev. A. Hill, and pub- 
 lished. The following account of his last moments is from the pen of one 
 of his daughters : — " After lying in a sleep of some hours, he suddenly 
 roused, and, calling us to his bedside, spoke of the conviction he felt that 
 the time was rapidly approaching when he must leave us. ' I do not pre- 
 tend,' said he, ' to look forward to that solemn moment without emotion. 
 We cannot bid adieu to the scenes and objects we have loved on earth, 
 without pain; and the thought that we are to appear before the judgment 
 seat of G-od, and account for the deeds done in the body, renders the con- 
 templation of that event awful in the extreme. But I trust in the mercy 
 of God, who has promised never to forsake those who put their trust in 
 Him. I have studied the Bible to obtain a knowledge of his character, 
 and what He reveals, through Jesus our Saviour, of the destiny of man. T 
 think I may, without vanity, say I have endeavoured to make the precepts 
 of the Gospel the rule of my life and conversation, and my aim has been 
 to perform the duties assigned me, by my Heavenly Father, to the best of 
 my ability. I have not the presumption to claim the merit of sinless obe- 
 dience ; but this I do say, my intentions have ever been to conform, as 
 far as is in my power, to the bright example set before us by our blessed 
 Saviour. Death is the portal through which all must 
 
 pass to reach their home in the Heavens ; and the Gospel alone sheds light 
 on its passage. Happy are they who shall sleep in Jesus." 
 
 Dr. Bancroft was the father of thirteen children, six only of whom sur- 
 vived him. One of his sons is the Hon. George Bancroft, the Historian, 
 and one of his daughters was married to the late Hon. John Davis, for- 
 merly Governor of Massachusetts, and a member of the United States 
 Senate. 
 
 Dr. Bancroft received many tokens of public favour. He was a mem- 
 ber of the Board of Trustees of Leicester Academy for thirty years, and 
 long its President ; President of the Worcester County Bible Society ; 
 President of the American Unitarian Association, from its organization in 
 1825 to 1836 ; President of the Society for Promoting Christian Know- 
 
136 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ledge, Piety and Charity ; Vice-President of the Worcester and Middlesex 
 Missionary Society, afterwards merged in the Evangelical Missionary So- 
 ciety ; Vice-President of the American Antiquarian Society from 181U to 
 1832 ; Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and mem- 
 ber of various other Societies. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Bancroft's publications: — 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Samuel Shuttlesworth, at Windsor,* Vt., 
 1790. A Sermon before the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts, at Worcester, 
 1793. A Sermon on the Execution of Samuel Frost for Murder, at Wor- 
 cester, 1793. A Sermon at the Installation of the Rev. Clark Brown, at 
 Brimfield, 1798. A Eulogy on Washington, pronounced at Worcester, 
 1800. A Sermon on the Day of the General Election, 1801. An Address 
 on the Importance of Education, delivered at the Opening of a New Build- 
 ing at Leicester Academy, 1806. Life of Washington, 1807. A Sermon 
 at the Ordination of Nathan Parker, Portsmouth, N. H., 1808. A Ser- 
 mon before the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, Piety and 
 Charity, 1810. A New Year's Sermon, 1811. A Sermon on the Nature 
 and Worth of Christian Liberty, 1816. A Sermon on the Duties of the 
 Fourth Commandment, 1817. Vindication of the Result of an Ecclesias- 
 tical Council at Princeton, 1817. A Discourse on Conversion, 1818. A 
 Sermon on the Death of Mrs. Mary Thomas, 1818. A Christmas Sermon, 
 on the Doctrine of Immortality, 1818. A Sermon at the Installation of 
 the Rev. Luther Wilson, Petersham, 1819. A Sermon on the Mediation 
 and Ministry of Jesus Christ, preached at Keene, N. H., 1819. A Ser- 
 mon on the Bloral Purpose of Ancient Sacrifices, of the Mosaic Ritual and 
 of Christian Observances, preached at Keene, N. H., 1819. A Sermon 
 before the Convention of Congregational Ministers of Massachusetts, 1820. 
 Sermons on the Doctrines of the Gospel, and on those Constituent Princi- 
 ples of the Church, which Christian Professors have made the Subject of 
 Controversy, (an octavo volume,) 1822. An Examination of the Rev. Mr. 
 Barstow's Remarks on the " Preliminary History of Two Discourses," 
 1822. A Sermon at the Installation of the Rev. Andrew Bigelow, Med- 
 ford, 1823. A Sermon on the Duties of Parents, 1823. A Sermon before 
 the Auxiliary Society for Meliorating the Condition of the Jews, 182-1. 
 A Sermon at the Funeral of the Rev. Dr. Joseph Sumner, t 1824. A 
 Sermon on the Death of John Adams, 1826. A Sermon on the Sabbath 
 following the Ordination of the Rev. Alonzo Hill, 1827. A Sermon at 
 the Dedication of the New Unitarian Meeting House, Worcester, 1829. 
 Three Sermons in the Liberal Preacher ; published in 1827, 1828 and 
 1830, — namely, Office of Reason in the Concerns of Religion, 1827 ; Fe- 
 
 * Samuel Shuttlesworth was a native of Dedham, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard 
 College in 1777; was ordained Pastor of the Congregational Church in "Windsor, Vt., June 
 23, 1790; was subsequently dismissed; and died in October, 1834, aged eighty-four years. 
 
 f Joseph Sumner was born in Pomfret, Conn.; was graduated at Yale College in 1759; 
 was ordained, and installed Pastor of the Church in Shrewsbury, Mass., in 1762; and died 
 on the 9th of December, 1824, aged eighty -four years. The degree of Doctor of Divinity 
 was conferred upon him by Harvard College in 1814. He was an earnest patriot in the Revo- 
 lution, a wa.rm friend to learning, and for many years a Trustee of the Leicester Academy. 
 He published a Sermon at the Ordination of his son Samuel Sumner; [who was graduated 
 at Dartmouth College in 17S6 ; was ordained Pastor of the Church in Southborough, June 1, 
 1791; resigned his charge December!, 1797; and died in 1837;] a Thanksgiving Sermon, 
 1799 ; a Sermon at the Ordination of Wilkes Allen, 1803 ; and a Half-Century Sermon, 1812. 
 
AARON BANCROFT. 137 
 
 male Duties and Trials, 1828 ; Importance of Salvation, 1830. A Glance 
 at the Past and Present State of Ecclesiastical Affairs in Massachusetts, 
 published in the Unitarian Advocate, 1831. Family Prayers for Young 
 Householders, 1832. A Sermon on the Termination of Fifty Years of his 
 Ministry, 1836. A Sermon in the Christian Monitor, entitled The End 
 of the Commandments. Moral Power of Christianity, published in the 
 first volume of the Western Messenger. 
 
 I was introduced to Dr. Bancroft first in May, 1811, by Alfred Wright, 
 afterwards a missionary among the Indians, who was, at that time, teaching 
 a school in Worcester, and had one or more of Dr. B.'s sons among his 
 pupils. I was a mere youth, but was much impressed by the Doctor's 
 agreeable and urbane manner, and by one or two little acts of kindness, 
 which he performed towards me, to which I was in no way entitled. There 
 were several persons present at the interview, who did their part in the 
 way of talking ; but his superior powers of conversation cast them all into 
 the shade. The next time I saw him was shortly after this, at Coventry, 
 where he was a member of the second council that adjudicated the case of 
 the Bev. Abiel Abbot ; and, as I happened to be in the house where the 
 council held its sessions, I knew him to be a very active and influential 
 member, though I do not recollect that he performed any other service in 
 public than perhaps to offer a, prayer. In later years, and after I entered 
 the ministry, I saw him several times at his own house, and elsewhere, and 
 always found him frank, cordial, and highly intelligent upon every subject 
 we conversed upon. Once, I remember, our conversation turned upon the 
 first President Adams, with whom he had long been in intimate relations. 
 He was a great admirer of the President's character ; and the President 
 had expressed his strong approval of a volume of his sermons, which had 
 then lately been published. The only sermon I ever heard him preach 
 was his Convention Sermon, delivered before the Congregational Clergy 
 of Massachusetts, not long after the year 1820. It was on the text, — " I 
 am set for the defence of the Gospel." The Discourse was marked by 
 ability, and delivered without much apparent emotion ; and, though it was 
 not such a discourse as would have been most acceptable to the orthodox 
 portion of his congregation, it had little or nothing of a controversial bear- 
 ing, and contained much that found favour with all. 
 
 FROM THE HON. LEVI LINCOLN, LL. D., 
 
 GOVERNOR OF MASSACHUSETTS, UNITED STATES SENATOR, &C. 
 
 "Worcester, May 17, 1851. 
 Rev. and dear Sir: My deep reverence for the personal, social and profes- 
 sional character of Doctor Bancroft would demand a higher tribute of remem- 
 brance than any expressions of respect, in my poor ability, could render; nev- 
 ertheless I do not feel willing altogether to decline the request with which you 
 have honoured me. I may say then, in answer to your inquiries, that he was 
 of small stature, of spare and slight habit, but of elastic and firm step — his 
 manners and personal address courteous and affable, his conversation earnest 
 and impressive, and his general appearance and bearing that of the accom- 
 plished gentleman of the old school. The prominent traits of his intellectual 
 and moral character were, I think, careful observation, deep reflection, and 
 great decision. He had the clearest perception of the character of others, and, 
 
138 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 indeed, was rarely deceived in a first estimate of their worth. His own stand- 
 ard of merit was of the highest order, and he made no compromises with, 
 and had no apologies for, selfishness, or meanness, or vice. As a scholar, he 
 had rich and varied attainments, and was a, ready and vigorous writer. In 
 connection with his pastoral duties, he devoted much time and attention to 
 the cause of general education, and, during his long ministry, and, I believe, 
 to the very end, was associated with the management of the public schools of 
 the town, and one of the most persevering and efficient advocates of their con- 
 stantly progressive improvement. And for many years, he was a Trustee 
 and the President, of the flourishing Academy at Leicester. 
 
 In the pulpit, the manner of Dr. Bancroft was neither graceful nor impres- 
 sive. His voice was not strong or musical; but there was often, especially in 
 prayer, an earnestness and a fervency which gave it deep pathos and effect. 
 His printed works, — his Sermons, and his Life of Washington particularly, 
 will testify to his fidelity of research, and his powers of ratiocination and 
 expression. In the social relations of life no man was more interesting. His 
 society was everywhere sought and greatly cherished. He attracted the young, 
 instructed the active and the busy, sympathized with the aged and the afflic- 
 ted, and was at once the beloved and the venerated of his parish and the 
 family circle. 
 
 Such, currents calamo, is my imperfect remembrance of Dr. Bancroft, offered 
 only in apology for declining that more studied and careful sketch which is 
 due to his memory. 
 
 With sentiments of the highest regard, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 LEVI LINCOLN. 
 
 FROM THE HON. GEORGE BANCROFT. 
 
 New York, January 28, 1862. 
 
 My dear Sir: You ask of me some personal account of my father. My 
 earliest recollections of him are of a bright and cheerful man; fulfilling the 
 duties of life with courage and hearty good-will; naturally given to hospi- 
 tality, and delighting in the society of intelligent friends, who were attracted 
 by the ready sympathy of his nature, his lively and varied conversation, and 
 the quickness and clearness of his perceptions. His mind was calm and logi- 
 cal, discriminating and accurate, possessing the reflective powers in an emi- 
 nent degree. He loved literature and its pursuits; and though, in his youth, 
 the opportunities of becoming learned were interrupted by the War, his natu- 
 ral inclinations and activity made amends for the deficiency; so that in general 
 culture he stood among the foremost of his day, and, far more than any man 
 in his neighbourhood, preserved through life the tastes of a scholar. Of a bil- 
 ious temperament and a delicate physical organization, he used to speak of 
 himself as having been irascible in his boyhood; but this tendency he brought 
 under subjection, without impairing his vivacity, and he obtained and pre- 
 served to the last a complete mastery over himself. •» 
 
 It never was his way to make a show of his virtues or his emotions. 
 With him private devotion was strictly private. His affections were strong, 
 but not demonstrative. One of his sons was lost at sea; though suffering 
 most keenly from sorrow, he maintained his fortitude as an example to his 
 family; but long after every one else had given up hope, he was always seen, 
 with the arrival of the mail, walking in front of the post-ofBce until the let- 
 ters were distributed; and when day after day brought none to him, he would 
 return to his study with undisturbed serenity, unquestioning and unques- 
 tioned. In all this prolonged period of sorrow and hope, he was never found 
 
AARON BANCROFT. 139 
 
 in tears but once, when his door was suddenly and unexpectedly opened. His 
 love for his wife, or rather their mutual affection, was singularly great. She 
 was remarkable for benevolence, very uncommon gifts of mind, and playful 
 cheerfulness. In April, 1839, when they had been married more than fifty- 
 two years, she died after a very short illness. My father, then past eighty- 
 three years of age, attended her to the grave with no unusual display of grief; 
 but, after returning from the Funeral, he never left his homestead again, and 
 died in less than four months. 
 
 Throughout all his life, my father's means were limited, and during a large 
 part of it, were very scanty; but he was never embarrassed, for he had made 
 it a fixed rule not to incur debt. Small as was his income, he took it upon 
 himself to support his widowed mother in comfort; and under his care she 
 lived to be ninety-eight. 
 
 His knowledge of human nature and the springs of human action made him 
 sought for by those who needed consolation and advice; and he was frequently 
 appealed to as an arbiter. His exactness and method made him a good man 
 of business, and once, when circumstances compelled him to act as the admin- 
 istrator of a very complicated estate, he did it so well that he won the grati- 
 tude of all persons concerned. In politics he was a Federalist of the old 
 school, from which he never deviated a hand's breadth; and had he lived a 
 hundred years he would have been a Federalist to the last. But what he was 
 most remarkable for was, that, while his own opinions were held with tena- 
 city, and while he was often unavoidably engaged in theological polemics, he 
 maintained a steady, consistent attachment to freedom of conscience and of 
 thought, the right of free inquiry, the right of private judgment. In this I 
 think nobody ever excelled him. It seemed to form an elemental part of him. 
 Whenever members of his family consulted him on a, question of belief, he 
 never taught them by his own authority, but would set before them arguments 
 on each side, and recommend to them the best writers on the subject; he 
 really wished them to arrive at their conclusions by their own unbiased 
 reflection. This respect for private judgment he carried into all departments; 
 and I cannot recall a single instance in which he attempted to mould or sway 
 my opinions on religious dogmas or politics. The candid and impartial exer- 
 cise of the faculties of the mind, a teachable temper, and honest zeal for 
 truth, formed his rule for himself and for all others. 
 
 His father, who was a leading man in his village, and remarkable for his 
 gifts as a speaker, was known as a strict Calvinist, and a thorough supporter 
 of Jonathan Edwards. So my father was trained in his boyhood in the strait- 
 est school of orthodoxy; but " the throes of his own youthful mind," as he 
 used to say, revolted against the dogmas of predestination and election. His 
 position in the theological world was further affected by his encountering, 
 early in life, in a distant region, ignorant and presumptuous religious enthusi- 
 asts. These circumstances and his characteristic antipathy to all exaggera- 
 tion, and his distrust of the effects of excitements, set him against fanaticism 
 and excess in all their forms. 
 
 My father's theology was of New England origin, and, like that of so many 
 others, was a logical consequence of the reaction against the severities of our 
 Puritan fathers. He was thoroughly a Protestant and a Congregationalist. 
 Of English theological writers, he was fond of reading, among others, Tillot- 
 son, Samuel Clarke, Price, Bishop Butler, the liberal Bishop Law, the Phi- 
 losopher Locke. He had no sympathy with Belsham or his school, and read 
 little or nothing of their's till late in life. For several years he was a sub- 
 scriber to the Christian Observer, while it was an English Low Church peri- 
 odical. He always remembered with pleasure that, happening to sojourn for 
 a time in a town where there was but one building for public worship, he. and 
 
140 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 an Episcopal minister conducted the service alternately in perfect harmony. 
 The division in the Congregational Church in Massachusetts he deplored and 
 resisted. It met his cordial approval that his children should attend the ser- 
 vices of a Calvinistic minister, where there was no other Congregationalist. 
 Once he commended one of them by letter to a Calvinistic Church in another 
 town, as a church-member in regular standing; and when one of his daught- 
 ers married a Calvinist, he advised her to worship at the same church with 
 her husband. He considered reason as a primary and universal revelation 
 of God to men of all nations and all ages; he was sure of the necessary har- 
 mony between reason and true religion, and he did not scruple to reject what- 
 ever seemed to him plainly in contradiction with it. 
 
 Age may have impaired his vivacity; but his last years were serene; and 
 whenever it was discussed whether a man would like to live his life over again, 
 my father always expressed himself so well satisfied with his career that he 
 would willingly run it once more. 
 
 He took little heed of what men said of him, whether in blame or in praise, 
 but steadily went on his way with undeviating constancy, firmness, and good 
 temper. His theological opponents, as well as his nearer friends, bore testi- 
 mony to his uprightness; and his character gained for him, among all classes 
 of the community in which he lived, a solid influence and respect such as I 
 have never known exceeded; indeed I think I may say that it has not been 
 equalled. I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Ever with great regard, 
 
 Very faithfully your friend, 
 
 , GEOEGE BANCROFT. 
 
 THOMAS THACHER * 
 
 1780—1812. 
 
 Thomas Thachek was a descendant, in the fourth generation, from the 
 Rev. Thomas Thacher, the first minister of the Old South Church, in 
 Boston. He was a son of Oxenbridge Thaoher, Esq., a lawyer, of Boston, 
 and was born on the 24th of October; 1756. In early life he evinced 
 much more than ordinary force of intellect, but it was combined with an 
 imprudent, reckless spirit, that gave little promise of either respectability 
 or usefulness. At what period his mind took a more serious direction, I 
 have been unable to ascertain. At the age of about fifteen, he entered 
 Harvard .College, where he was a vigorous and successful student, and 
 graduated in 1775. How or where he spent the five, years immediately 
 succeeding his graduation does not appear ; but, on the 7th of June, 1780, 
 he was ordained and installed Pastor of the Third Church in Dedham. 
 The indiscretions and follies of his youth had awakened strong prejudices 
 against him, so that, his ministry did not commence under the fairest 
 auspices ; and his peculiarities of temper and manner were such that those 
 early prejudices probably never entirely died out. 
 
 Sir. Thacher took a deep interest in the politics of his day, though his 
 political course is said to have been characterized by some degree of insta- 
 bility. In 1788, he was chosen a delegate, with the Hon. Fisher Ames, 
 
 Columbian Centinel, 1812. — Worthington's Hist, of Dedham. — Ms. from Rev. Dr. Pierce. 
 
THOMAS TEACHER. 141 
 
 for Dedham, to the Convention for ratifying the Federal Constitution, and 
 made an earnest speech in behalf of its ratification. Even more than most 
 of the ministers of that period, he carried political subjects into the pulpit, 
 and discussed them with a freedom and boldness that gave him no enviable 
 distinction with at least a portion of his hearers. 
 
 Mr. Thacher's social habits were doubtless somewhat modified by the 
 fact that he lived till the close of life a, bachelor. There is a tradition 
 that, in the early part of his ministry, he made an unsuccessful effort to 
 cast off that character, and that he resolved he would not expose him- 
 self to a second disappointment. But, though he had no wife to direct his 
 domestic concerns, he was one of the most hospitable of men, and would 
 sometimes carry his attentions to his guests to such a length that they 
 even became burdensome. His attachment to his people was of the most 
 devoted kiud ; and one of the sorest afflictions of his life was, that nearly 
 a third part of his little flock left him, and joined a Baptist Society, on 
 account of being dissatisfied with the location of a new meeting-house. 
 
 Mr. Thacher was a fine classical scholar, and was engaged, during nearly 
 his whole ministry, in fitting young men for College. 
 
 There was something significant in the manner in which he disposed of 
 his property. After making legacies to a few friends, he bequeathed the 
 whole to his parish, on condition that they should settle a minister within 
 five years from his death, and that he, and all his successors, should be 
 moderately Calvinistie in their views, should be graduates of Harvard Col- 
 lege, and should have received no part of their education at the Theolo- 
 gical Seminary at Andover. 
 
 Mr. Thacher was a member of the American Academy of Arts and 
 Sciences. 
 
 He died on the 19th of October, 1812, in the fifty-sixth year of his age, 
 and the thirty-third of his ministry. His Funeral Sermon was preached 
 by the Rev. Stephen Palmer, of Needham, from John xvii, 4. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL OSGOOD, D. D. 
 
 Springfieid, February 28, 1856. 
 
 My dear Sir: I might perhaps decline your request for my recollections of 
 the Rev. Thomas Thacher, of Dedham, on the ground of my haviDg never had 
 a very intimate acquaintance with him, if I could refer you to any person 
 whose knowledge of him is likely to be much more extended or particular than 
 my own. I knew him first about the close of 1806, while I was a s'tudent of 
 Theology under Dr. Harris, of Dorchester; and my opportunities for becoming 
 acquainted with him were limited to the period of my residence in that neigh- 
 bourhood. I have no doubt, in respect to my appreciation of his character, 
 for its most distinguishing features were so marked and palpable that it was 
 not easy to mistake in respect to them. * 
 
 Mr. Thacher was a man of a portly and commanding figure, and had a face 
 expressive of much more than common intellectual power. His manners were 
 sufficiently free and cordial, but somewhat blunt, and indicative of what he 
 really possessed, — great independence of character. You could not meet him 
 in the most casual interview, without perceiving that he had not the fear of 
 man before his eyes. He had great power of sarcasm, and he indulged it 
 sometimes perhaps without the nrost delicate regard to circumstances. But 
 
142 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 there was a manifest openness and honesty of purpose that all recognized as 
 a redeeming feature, and as rendering less objectionable that unceremonious 
 bluntness, and even severity, which could hardly fail sometimes to give offence. 
 
 In his religious opinions, Mr. Thacher had the reputation of being a Unita- 
 rian; but I never heard him say any thing from which I could infer what was 
 the particular type of his Unitarianism; and I think it quite possible, consid- 
 ering the period at which he lived, that he rather reposed in the negative con- 
 viction that the doctrine of the Trinity is not a Scripture doctrine, than in 
 any very definite positive view of the subject. Some of his writings show 
 clearly that he had not only no sympathy with Calvinism, but viewed it with 
 marked disapprobation. I refer particularly to a brief notice of the life of 
 Dr. West, of Boston, written shortly after Dr. W.'s death, and published, I 
 think, in connection with the Sermon preached at his Funeral. 
 
 As a Preacher, he had none of the graces of rhetoric, or other qualities 
 fitted to render him especially popular; but he had a vein of strong sense, 
 which, I believe, gave him considerable favour with persons of reflection and 
 intelligence. His printed sermons, which are not very numerous, are written 
 with great perspicuity and directness, and if they were a specimen of his ordi- 
 nary preaching, I should say that his discourses could not have been lacking 
 in well-arranged thought, however little they may have been distinguished for 
 unction. 
 
 I believe it was generally considered that Mr. Thacher's very decided fond- 
 ness, amounting almost to a passion, for mirthfulness and witticism, abated 
 somewhat from both the dignity and the efficiency of his ministerial character. 
 I have heard many humorous anecdotes illustrative of this, which I suppose 
 to be authentic; but I will limit myself to one or two. He was observed, on 
 a Sabbath afternoon, repeatedly to smile in the pulpit; and when some per- 
 son, at the close of the service, asked him what was the cause of it, he replied, 
 " Why, I was preaching the very same sermon, word for word, this afternoon, 
 that I had preached in the morning, and I was laughing to see how gravely 
 you took it — just as if you had never heard it before." On one occasion, 
 he exchanged with Mr. Buckminster, of Boston. There were a number of 
 young men, who were attracted to the Brattle-Street Church by Mr. Buckmin- 
 ster 's eloquence; and if they found any other minister in the pulpit, they 
 were accustomed abruptly to leave the house. When they saw Mr. Thacher 
 there, probably without knowing who he was, they, as usual, rose and moved 
 out. Mr. T. observed the indecorum, and alluded to it at his nephew's during 
 the intermission, remarking, at the same time, — "I have at least shown 
 myself possessed of one apostolical gift to-day — that of casting out devils." 
 
 Such are my recollections and impressions of Thomas Thacher — a man of 
 decided talents, and, so far as I know, of amiable and generous dispositions; 
 but eccentric, droll, and perhaps I must add, lacking in ministerial circum- 
 spection. Faithfully yours, 
 
 SAMUEL OSGOOD. 
 
JOHN EEED. 143 
 
 JOHN REED, D. D* 
 
 1780—1831. 
 
 The father of John Reed was the Eev. Solomon Reed, who waa Pastor 
 successively of the Church in Framingham, Mass., and of the North 
 Church in Middleborough, and died in 1785. His mother's maiden name 
 was Abigail Horton. He was born in Framingham, on the 11th of Novem- 
 ber, 1751 ; but, in consequence of the removal of his father, a short time 
 after, most of his early years were spent in Middleborough. Having gone 
 through his preparatory studies, under the instruction of his father, he 
 entered Yale College in 1768,— that institution being preferred to Har- 
 vard, chiefly on the ground of its being considered more favourable to the 
 Calvinistic system of doctrine, of which his father was an earnest supporter. 
 He maintained a high standing as a scholar during his college course, and 
 graduated in 1772. 
 
 After his graduation, he remained at New Haven, and pursued his theo- 
 logical studies, probably under the direction of President Daggett. It 
 was during this period that his mind underwent a great change in respect 
 to Christian doctrine ; and. instead of settling down in the Calvinistic 
 creed, to which he had been educated, he became a thorough convert to 
 the Arminian system, and always held to it with great tenacity during the 
 rest of his life. After leaving New Haven, he continued his theological 
 studies for some time under the direction of his father. Shortly after lie 
 began to preach, he was employed as a Chaplain in the Navy. He, how- 
 ever, never actually went to sea, though he held the office two years. 
 
 After becoming a candidate for settlement, he was invited to preach in 
 a Parish in Bridgcwater, which now forms the separate town of West 
 Bridgewater. His services proved highly acceptable to the people, and 
 they gave him a call to become Colleague Pastor with the Rev. Daniel 
 Perkins, t the aged minister of the Parish. He accepted their call, and 
 was ordained and installed on the 7th of January, 1780, the Sermon on 
 the occasion being preached by his father. 
 
 In 1794, Dr. Reed was elected a member of Congress, and he continued 
 a member six years. It was not an office of his own seeking, but he 
 consented to it, in compliance with the earnest wish of his constituents, 
 and from an honest desire to servo his country. He was regarded, in this 
 relation, as eminently wise and judicious, and, though his voice was not 
 often heard, he always spoke words of weight, and his opinion was highly 
 respected. He was a Federalist of the Washington and John Adams 
 school, and enjoyed the friendship and confidence of those illustrious men. 
 
 In 1803, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Brown University. In 1812, he delivered the Dudleian Lecture at Har- 
 vard College. 
 
 * Hodge's Fun. Senn. — Ms. from his son, Mr. Sampson Reed. 
 
 | Daniel Perkins was born in Topsfield in 1696 ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1717; was settled as Pastor of the Church in West Bridgewater, October 4, 1721; and died 
 September 29, 1782, aged eighty-six years. 
 
144 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Dr. Keed spent the last ten years of his life in total darkness, having 
 irrecoverably lost his sight by means of cataracts. The last time that he 
 could avail himself of the aid of a manuscript in preaching, was in Novem- 
 ber, 1820, at the Funeral of his friend and neighbour, the Kev. Dr. Sanger. 
 He, however, continued to preach regularly until a short time before his 
 death. He was accustomed to study his subjects thoroughly during the 
 week, and to trust to the workings of his mind for the appropriate lan- 
 guage, at the time of the delivery. The portions of Scripture, and the 
 Hymns, which he had occasion to use, he committed to memory by hearing 
 them read. As an illustration of the remarkable accuracy and discrimina- 
 tion which he attained in his hearing, after he became blind, he stated 
 that he was riding, at a certain time, in Middleborough, where he lived 
 when a boy, and he met a man driving a team. He stopped and spoke to 
 him, saying that he could not see him, and had never seen him, but he 
 could tell whose son he was, by the sound of his voice ; and he actually 
 told correctly. 
 
 Dr. Reed died of lung fever, on the 17th of February, 1831, in the 
 eightieth year of his age, and the fifty-first of his ministry. In his last 
 hours, he expressed a deep sense of his own unworthiness, and a grateful 
 sense of the Divine goodness, and then took leave of his family with great 
 composure and tenderness. The devotional services at his Funeral were, 
 by his own request, conducted by the Rev. Pitt Clark, of Norton ; and a 
 Sermon, commemorative of him, was preached the Sabbath after his Fu- 
 neral, by the Rev. R. M. Hodges, minister of the First Congregational 
 Society in Bridgewater. 
 
 He was married in November, 1780, to Hannah, daughter of Uriah 
 Sampson, of Middleborough. She was a descendant of the two veteran 
 Puritans, John Alden and Miles Standish. They had eight children, five 
 sons and three daughters. The eldest son, John, was graduated at Brown 
 University in 1803, and subsequently practised Law at Yarmouth, Barn- 
 stable county. He was, for many years, a member of Congress, and sub- 
 sequently Lieutenant Governor of Massachusetts, under the administration 
 of Governor Briggs. His two youngest sons were graduated at Cam- 
 bridge — one of whom, Caleb, studied Law, but, relinquishing the profes- 
 sion, became connected with a manufacturing establishment — the other, 
 Sampson, studied Theology at Cambridge ; but, having, during this "period, 
 become persuaded of the truth of the doctrines of Swedenborg, he relin- 
 quished the profession, and engaged in mercantile pursuits. Doctor Reed's 
 first wife died in November, 1815 ; and he was married, the second time, 
 in 1823, to Mrs. Phoebe Paddock, the sister of his former wife. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Reed's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Kilborn Whitman,* 1787. A Sermon 
 at the Ordination of Jonas Hartwell.t 1792. The Right Hand of Fellow- 
 
 * Kilborn Whitman "was a native of Bridgewater; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1785; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Pembroke, December 12, 1787; 
 resigned his charge on the 12th of December, 1796; and died in December, 1835, aged sev- 
 enty-one years. 
 
 t Jonas Hartwell was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1787 ; was ordained and 
 installed Pastor of the Church in Kittery in 1792; was dismissed in 1798; and died in 1810, 
 aged forty-nine. 
 
JOHN REED. 145 
 
 ship at the Ordination of James Wilson, in Providence, 1793. The Eight 
 Hand of Fellowship at the Ordination of James Flint, in East Bridge- 
 water, 1806. An Apology for the Eite of Infant Baptism, 1806. A 
 Sermon before the Convention of Congregational Ministers in Massachu- 
 setts, 1807. A Sermon at the Ordination of Daniel Johnson, in Orleans, 
 Mass., 1808. A Sermon before the Plymouth Association of Ministers, 
 preached in Middleborough, 1810. A Sermon before the Society for Pro- 
 moting Christian Knowledge, Piety and Charity, 1814. 
 
 Iu 1811, Dr. Pteed was a member of the Unitarian Council convened at 
 Coventry, in the case of the Eev. Abiel Abbot ; and there I saw him for 
 the first time. I remember distinctly his grave and dignified appearance, 
 and my impression that he was one of the leading spirits of the Council. 
 There was a public religious service, one afternoon, during the session of 
 the Council, and Dr. Eeed was the preacher.' His text was, — " For why 
 dost thou judge thy brother ?" — and I remember it was understood to 
 be a sermon for the occasion, — designed to rebuke the spirit that had dic- 
 tated the decision of the Consociation of Tolland county, in respect to Mr. 
 Abbot, a few weeks before. If my memory serves me, it was delivered 
 with little animation, though with great gravity and solemnity of manner. 
 I never saw him but once after this ; and that was at his own house in 
 Bridgewater, some two or three years before his death. He was then 
 stone blind, but he gave me a very cordial welcome, for which I believe I 
 was partly indebted to the fact that I had been settled at West Springfield, 
 as a colleague with Dr. Lathrop, whose character he held in the highest 
 reverence. I found him perfectly cheerful under his affliction, though 
 never expecting to see the light of the sun again. I was struck with the 
 clearness and comprehensiveness of his views upon every subject that was 
 introduced, and was not a little entertained by many interesting incidents 
 in connection with his own experience, especially while a member of Con- 
 gress. He spoke in terms of high respect of Dr. Ashbel Green, for whom 
 he used sometimes to preach, and with whom I understood he was in plea- 
 sant and quite intimate relations. It was evident that his mind was 
 exceedingly active, and that which seemed so great a calamity, — the loss 
 of his sight, was no doubt the means of increasing his power of abstraction 
 and concentration. From his treatment of me. as well as from remarks- 
 that he made concerning others, I inferred that he was a person of enlarged, 
 generous feelings, and of great hospitality. 
 
 In answer to an application which I made to Dr. Eeed's family, through 
 one of his successors in the ministry, for one or more of his manuscript 
 sermons, which might give some idea of his views of Christian doctrine, I 
 received one, entitled " Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant," from 
 which I am allowed to make the following extract : — 
 
 " Jesus Christ, in the capacity of Mediator between God and men, is a person whose 
 character is exactly adapted to the case and circumstances of both parties. 
 
 " In the sacred Scriptures, our Lord Jesus Christ is often styled a Mediator, — the 
 Mediator of the New Covenant and New Testament, which is denominated a 'better 
 covenant than that of works, and established on better promises.' He is expressly 
 said to be ' the only Mediator between God and man.' He is a daysman, an all-sufS 
 cient arbiter and reconciler, — one who is suitably qualified and able to come between 
 God and man, lay his hand upon both, and remove the dreadful difference. 
 
 " Being God's own and only begotten Son, and dearly beloved, with his mediation 
 
 Vol. VIII. 10 
 
146 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 God is ever well pleased. Him, the Father always heareth and regardeth, and accord- 
 ingly He is capable of making peace between an offended God and offending man, by- 
 means of his incarnation, his obedience, his sufferings, his death, his intercessions, &c. 
 For this reason, He is styled our peace or peacemaker; and the Gospel is called the 
 word of reconciliation. 
 
 " The sufferings and death of Christ were requisite in order to set us a more com- 
 plete and perfect example of resignation and submission to the will of God. in times 
 of affliction and distress, and also of benevolence towards our fellow creatures. His 
 death was also necessary to prepare the way for his resurrection, and ascension, and 
 exaltation; for this, or on account of his great humiliation, and sufferings, and igno- 
 minious death of crucifixion, God hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name 
 which is above every name. But still his death was further requisite as an atoning 
 sacrifice. His precious blood was the price of our redemption. In this sense, his blood 
 cleanseth'froni all sin — from allfilthiness of flesh and spirit. As Mediator, Hesnffered 
 and died for our offences — He exchanged his own innocent, meritorious life for our 
 guilty, forfeited lives. The iniquities of us all were laid upon Him. He bore the pun- 
 ishment due to our sins in his own body on the treo, that we might be pardoned and 
 acquitted, 'ihus. by his active and passive obedience, by obeying the precepts and 
 suffering the penalty of God's law, which mankind had broken, He hath fulfilled and 
 made it honourable, and brought in an everlasting righteousness for their justification 
 and salvation." 
 
 The discourse of which the above is a part is without date, but, from 
 
 the appearance of the manuscript, I infer that it must have been among 
 
 Dr. Reed's later productions. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JAMES FLINT, D. D. 
 
 Salem, October 16,. 1850. 
 
 My dear Sir: As you have asked of me, I give you, in brief, my recollec- 
 tions of the late Rev. Dr. John Reed, of Bridgewater, who was my neighbour 
 and friend, and greatly respected father in the ministry, during my pastoral 
 connection, of nearly fourteen years, with the First Church and Society in 
 East Bridgewater; or, from 1807 to my removal to this place, in 1821. 
 
 In person, Dr. Reed was of more than medium size, of a firm, well-built 
 frame, limbs and muscles well covered with flesh, though not corpulent; formed 
 rather for strength than agility; with a large, well-shaped head; five feet and 
 eight or ten inches, I should judge, in height; slightly bending and slow in 
 his gait. His features were regular, and his eye black and penetrating. His 
 countenance was indicative of intelligence and benignity, wearing, in a state 
 of repose, a grave and meditative aspect; but, when engaged in earnest con- 
 versation, it was lighted up with a pleasant and cheerful smile. Though natu- 
 rally sociable in his disposition, yet, finding but little congenial society in his 
 immediate neighbourhood, he passed much of his time in silent self-commu- 
 nion, in abstract thinking and metaphysical speculation. When, however, the 
 opportunity offered, no man delighted more in conversation with his brethren 
 or other intelligent friends. His domestic affections were strong, and in his 
 domestic relations and in quiet home enjoyments, he was eminently favoured. 
 He was but sparingly endowed with the imaginative, or else he kept his imagi- 
 nation in rigid subjection to his reason — certainly he was no dealer in tropes. 
 He expressed his thoughts in plain, unaffected phraseology; in words from 
 " the pure well of English undefiled." He rarely, if ever, availed himself of 
 a striking image or metaphor, either for ornament or illustration, in conver- 
 sation or writing. He was chiefly distinguished for his strong good sense, a 
 clear and discriminating judgment, and close and cogent reasoning; indeed, I 
 'think he had few superiors in conducting an argument, especially on an 
 abstract subject. 
 
 Dr. Reed's manner in the pulpit was marked by unaffected seriousness, a 
 distinct and deliberate utterance, seldom very animated, with no great variety 
 qf emphasis or modulation, his voice being of a pitch too much above the 
 
CHARLES STEARNS. 147 
 
 grave key to be very commanding, or suited to fill a large space. The sound 
 sense and vigorous reasoning which characterized his discourses never failed 
 to secure the attention of the intelligent hearer. << He was," says Dr. Brad- 
 ford, in his New England Biography, " a practical, though an argumentative 
 preacher, and sought to improve his hearers both in knowledge and virtue." 
 His taste inclined him, as his talents fitted him, for metaphysical inquiries; 
 and he had a friendly controversy upon the doctrine of Necessity with an 
 acute and ingenious clergyman in his neighbourhood, the Rev. Mr. Niles, of 
 Abingdon. They both published the substance of their arguments in pam- 
 phlets; and Dr. Reed, without convincinghis antagonist or being convinced by 
 him, defended his position with a very uncommon degree of metJtphysical 
 acumen. A man so accustomed to profound and abstract thinking, we should 
 expect, would occasionally betray that unconsciousness of what was passing 
 before him, which, in common parlance, we call absence of mind; and so it 
 really was. His lady used to illustrate this by a pleasant anecdote. While 
 his children were reading the chapter in connection with the morning worship 
 of the family, some word or sentence awakened a train of thought, in which 
 he remained absorbed some time after they had finished the chapter, when, 
 recollecting himself, he called out to his young readers, much to their amuse- 
 ment, — " Come, get your Bibles, and read your chapter for prayers." 
 
 Dr. Reed was ranked, by his contemporaries, at the close of the last cen- 
 tury, amongst the ministers who were Anti-Calvinistic or Arminian, in their 
 theological views. In regard to the character of Christ, I think he was a high 
 Arian, differing little, if at all, from the views of Dr. Samuel Clarke, or of 
 Noah Worcester, as set forth in his " Bible News." 
 
 His general bearing in society was quiet, affable, unassuming, indicative of 
 a cheerful and serene spirit, of great candour and freedom from prejudice, 
 and he regarded as his Christian brethren all good men, of whatever sect or 
 creed. He enjoyed, in a high degree, the affectionate respect of his people, 
 and of his brethren in the ministry, and exercised a, wide influence in the 
 community at large. With great respect, 
 
 Very truly yours. 
 
 JAMES FLINT. 
 
 CHARLES STEARNS, D. D.* 
 
 1781—1826. 
 
 Charles Stearns, a son of Thomas and Lydia (Mansfield) Stearos, 
 was born July 19, 1753. His father lived successively at Lynn, Lunen- 
 burg, Fitchburg and Leominster ; in the latter of which places Cbarlea 
 was born. He entered Harvard University in 1769, and graduated in 
 1773, having been distinguished, during his whole course, for vigorous and 
 successful application to study. Immediately after his graduation, he 
 engaged in teaching a school, and at the same time commenced the study 
 of Theology; tyit when or by what Association he was licensed to preach 
 I have not been able to ascertain. During the years 1780 and '81, lie 
 was Tutor at Cambridge, and, on his resigning the place, the class under 
 his immediate care gave him a substantial token of their good-will and 
 
 » Mss. from Rev. Dr. A. P. Peabody, Rev. J. L. Sibley, Rev. C. C. Bewail, and William 
 F. Wheeler, Esq. 
 
148 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 regard. He was a fine classical scholar, and, in the course of his ministry, 
 upwards of forty young men were prepared by him for admission to College. 
 
 Mr. Stearns was first employed to preach at Lincoln in October, 1780. 
 On the 15th of January, 1781, the church voted unanimously (twenty-cine 
 votes) to give him a call to settle with them in the ministry. On the 5th 
 of February, the town concurred, (sixty-five to five,) and voted him "£220 
 in hard money or its equivalent," (to which £70 was subsequently added,) 
 as a settlement, and £80 and 15 cords of wood a year. In 1797, the town 
 voted " that the Kev. BIr. Stearns' salary should be £80 per year, at all 
 times when the current price of Indian corn is 3s. and rye 4s. per bushel, 
 and beef 20s. and pork 33s. per hundred ; and to be increased or dimin- 
 ished according as the prices of those articles vary." 
 
 Mr. Stearns, having accepted the call from the congregation at Lincoln, 
 was ordained and installed on the 7th of November, 1781, the Sermon on 
 the occasion being preached by the Rev. Zabdiel Adams of Lunenburg. 
 
 In 1792, some of the principal citizens of Lincoln joined in establishing 
 a school of a high order, of which Mr. Stearns became the Principal. This 
 school continued about ten years, and was eminently successful. Six 
 quarto volumes, containing his Lectures and Addresses to the pupils, and 
 records of their attendance and acquirements, are still in existence. 
 
 In 1810, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. He was also Fellow of the American Academy of Arts 
 and Sciences. 
 
 Dr. Stearns' ministry, which lasted through a period of nearly forty-five 
 years, was eminently acceptable to his people, and was, in a very unusual 
 degree, free from disturbing influences. He admitted a hundred and fifty- 
 five to full communion, and seventy-eight, after the fashion of that day, 
 owned the covenant. 
 
 Dr. Stearns retained both his bodily and mental faculties in a remark- 
 able degree. He preached his last sermon on the first Sabbath in July, 
 1826 ; and, within a few days after this, was attacked with an acute disease, 
 (it is believed to have been bilious cholic,) which terminated his life on the 
 26th of that month. He died at the age of seventy-three. His Funeral 
 was attended on the 29th, and a Sermon preached on the occasion by the 
 Kev. Dr. Ripley, of Concord. The town erected a monument to his 
 memory, with an inscription of which the following is a part: — 
 
 ''He was distinguished for his high attainments in various branches of science; for 
 strength and soundness of mind; for method and accuracy of reasoning, and facility 
 in communicating knowledge. By his piety, benevolence and learning, he gained the 
 affection and respect of his beloved people, the esteem and confidence of his numerous 
 friends, and the well-deserved honours of Literary Societies. His life was full of 
 practical goodness, the genuine fruit of deep-felt piety, and his death, of religious hope 
 and peace. By the habitual exercise of faith, humility, patience and charity, he exhi- 
 bited Christianity in a strong and prominent light; and is gone, it is believed, to enjoy 
 the rewards of a good and faithful servant of Jesus Christ." 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Stearns' publications : — ' 
 A Sermon at an Exhibition of Sacred Music in Lincoln, 1792. The 
 Ladies' Philosophy of Love : A Poem in Four Cantos, written in 1774, 
 published in 1797. Dramatic Dialogues for the Use of Schools, 1798. 
 Principles of Religion and Morality, 1798, (2d ed. 1807.) A Sermon 
 preached at the Interment of Hon. Eleazar Brooks, 1806. A Sermon 
 
CHARLES STEARNS. 149 
 
 delivered at Concord before the Middlesex Bible Society, 1815. A Ser- 
 mon before the Convention of Congregational Ministers, Boston, 1815. A 
 Sermon at the Interment of Mrs. Phoebe Foster, wife of the Rev. Edmund 
 Fos ( ter, at Littleton. 
 
 Mr. Stearns was married, January,7, 1782, to Susannah, daughter of 
 Jonathan and Susannah Cowdry, of Reading. They had six sons and five 
 daughters. Two of the sons entered the ministry. William Lawrence, 
 born October 30, 1793, was graduated at Harvard College in 1820 ; 
 studied Theology with his father; was licensed to preach in 1823; was 
 ordained at Stoughton, Mass., in November, 1827; was dismissed in De- 
 cember, 1830 ; was installed in Rowe, in 1831 ; was married to Mary 
 Monroe, of Lincoln, in 1828 ; and died in 1857. Daniel Mansfield, 
 a twin of the preceding, was graduated at Brown University in 1822 ; was 
 settled as a minister at Dennis in 1828 ; was dismissed in 1839 ; was mar- 
 ried to Betsey Blonroe, of Lincoln, in 1825 ; and died in his native place 
 in 1842. Mrs. Stearns, the mother, died on the 24th of July, 1832, aged 
 seventy-seven years. 
 
 FROM THE REV. NATHANIEL WHITMAN. 
 
 Deebjfield, Mass., April 4, 1864. 
 
 Dear Sir: In compliance with the request contained in your letter just 
 received, I am happy to communicate to you what I remember of the Rev. Dr. 
 Stearns, only regretting that I have not the means of more fully meeting your 
 wishes. 
 
 I saw him for the first time in 1806 or '07, while I was an undergraduate 
 at Harvard College, on the occasion of his exchanging pulpits with Dr. Holmes. 
 His sermon was designed to show that the proof of the Divine origin of Chris- 
 tianity is various, and amounts to perfect moral demonstration. " And yet," 
 said he, c< objections are urged against this position with great confidence; and 
 it is even asserted, with a pretentious air, that Human Reason, unassisted by 
 any higher power, furnishes all the light that we need." Pausing a little, and 
 then raising his head, with a. mild but significant expression, and in a gentle 
 voice, he said, << These objections naturally remind one of the saying of the 
 pretended philosopher, that he wondered why the sun shone at all, inasmuch 
 as it shines onty in the day time, when we have light enough without it." I 
 well recollect how emphatic seemed to be the impression of his words, illus- 
 trating the baselessness and folly of Infidelity, on the body of the students. 
 
 Dr. Stearns preached the Sermon before the Annual Convention of the Con- 
 gregational ministers of Massachusetts, about the period when there had 
 come to be great agitation among a portion of the clergy who called them- 
 selves orthodox, in regard to the duty of effecting an ecclesiastical separation 
 from the so-called Unitarians. The general scope and aim of the Sermon 
 were to show that, in his opinion, such a separation would be in a high degree 
 unwise; that the Congregational ministers should go together as far as they 
 were agreed; that they should manage their differences with a Christian spirit, 
 and should build up their churches and societies respectively on the Gospel 
 foundation, and with Gospel materials. The estimation in which Dr. Stearns 
 was held by his clerical friends is indicated by the fact of his being chosen 
 to preach the Convention Sermon at this exciting and stormy period. And, as 
 he was a lover, not of controversy, but of peace, charity and conciliation, they 
 hoped that his words might prove an excellent oil poured upon the rising 
 waves of controversial bitterness. 
 
150 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 An invitation had been given in the papers to meet at Concord and form a 
 Bible Society for Middlesex County. I was present on the occasion. It 
 appeared that the invitation had been published in only two papers; and con- 
 sequently it had been seen by few, and our gathering was very small. Dr. 
 Stearns was chosen Moderator. The question came up, — " What shall we 
 do ? Shall we now organize, or adjoirrn till we have a fuller meeting?" Dr. 
 M pleaded earnestly for organizing then — Dr. R pleaded as ear- 
 nestly for adjournment. Thus we were in quite a quandary. The Modera- 
 tor, looking blandly around, said,—" Dr. M , I admire your zeal, for it 
 
 is good to be always zealous in a good cause; and I also, Dr. R , admire 
 
 your conservatism, because we should let our moderation be known to all 
 men, inasmuch as the Lord is at hand." Then addressing the little company, 
 he said, — •' Gentlemen, is it your pleasure that we adjourn?" — and the gene- 
 ral response was an emphatic yea. At the adjourned meeting, Dr. Stearns 
 was chosen first preacher. His sermon was an elaborate and well adapted 
 discussion of the leading characteristics and infinite value of the Bible; of the 
 need of its distribution far and wide; and of our obligation to labour syste- 
 matically in such a cause. The Sermon was published, and was, in every 
 respect, » highly creditable performance. 
 
 As Dr. Stearns belonged to the Cambridge Association, and I to the Ando- 
 ver Association, both of which covered a large extent of country, my exchan- 
 ges with him were rare; nor had I the opportunity of often hearing him preach. 
 Of the general character of his preaching, however, I retain a distinct impres- 
 sion. His discourses were sensible, practical, and in a high degree biblical; 
 and he was ever gratefully welcomed by all our Societies. Of his views upon 
 certain points of Christian doctrine, I am unable to speak confidently; but I 
 have no doubt that he was an Arminian and an Arian. I have always sup- 
 posed that he preferred to express his views in respect to the Saviour in Scrip- 
 ture language rather than in any other. 
 
 Dr. Stearns was of about the medium height, well-proportioned, though ■ 
 somewhat fleshy and rotund, of a dignified aspect, and genial, social expres- 
 sion, which could hardly fail to attract you to him, and to secure your con- 
 fidence. His family being not small, and his salary not large, and the edu- 
 cation of his children drawing hard upon him, he was necessitated to be much 
 at home, to practise rigid economy, and to content himself with a library of 
 only moderate extent. H e was always of a cheerful, contented, happy spirit, 
 and till the close of life kept up the habit of diligent study. He was accus- 
 tomed to walk a good deal in his garden, studying all the time, and some- 
 times unconsciously studying aloud; and, when he had got ready to use his 
 pen, he would step into his study, and commit his well matured thoughts to 
 paper; and thus his sermon would be made. Some of his neighbours who 
 watched these movements, were sometimes not a little amused by them. 
 
 He was fond of educational processes. He loved the young. And his slen- 
 der means for a living he laboured to increase by keeping a school, during 
 several years, for the young women of his Society. One of these ladies 
 became a member of my congregation. From her I learned all about this 
 school. It was very popular and very useful. No Society in his immediate 
 neighbourhood, I believe, stood so high as his, as to the actual, practical stand- 
 ard of female education; and this was owing mainly to the influence of his 
 school. 
 
 Of my last interview with the Doctor I retain a vivid impression. Return- 
 ing from an exchange near the close of his ministry, — though he was yet well 
 and vigorous, — I passed by his house, and called and spent an hour with him 
 in most agreeable conversation. He had been compelled to sell his house 
 in which his life had been chiefly spent, and his pleasant garden where he had 
 
CHARLES STEARNS. 151 
 
 been accustomed to pass many happy hours. The house in which he was 
 living was a pleasant and commodious one; but it was not his own. He spoke 
 of the change which had come over him in this respect with freedom and 
 cheerfulness. His countenance brightened as he spoke of his advancing years, 
 and of the many mercies with which Providence had crowned his life, and 
 concluded by saying, — " I have got a life-lease of this pleasant house." I left 
 him at his door with a kindly smile upon his face, and never saw him after- 
 wards. Most respectfully and truly yours, 
 
 NATHANIEL WHITMAN. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOSEPH FIELD, D. D. 
 
 Weston, Mass., April 18, 1864. 
 
 My dear Sir: I have, within a few days, received your letter of the 8th 
 instant, in which you ask me to write out for you what I remember concern- 
 ing the Rev. Dr. Charles Stearns. 
 
 My intercourse with him was only during the last ten years of his life, and 
 was infrequent, — seldom seeing him but on our yearly exchanges, and at the 
 meetings of our Ministerial Association. 
 
 As a Preacher he was very acceptable to my people. There were none of 
 the clergy of his age whom they were more glad to see in my pulpit. He 
 was, as I have heard, an excellent scholar. His mind was enriched by much 
 study, reading and meditation. As a man and a clergyman, he was univer- 
 sally respected, esteemed and beloved. And I cannot doubt that he is worthy 
 to be commemorated in your valuable publication. 
 
 Allow me to supplement what I have written concerning Dr. Stearns by an 
 extract from an obituary notice of him, which appeared in the Christian Reg- 
 ister, shortly after his decease. 
 
 << The natural genius of Dr. Stearns led him to the study of Mathematics and 
 Metaphysics. And had he pursued these branches of science more exclusively, 
 he would have been conspicuously eminent. He was peculiarly fond of ethi- 
 cal studies, and possessed a happy faculty of reasoning correctly and usefully 
 on moral subjects. He was remarkable for blending a large portion of com- 
 mon sense with his most philosophical and accurate reasonings. This ren- 
 dered his arguments intelligible and satisfactory. His talents of this charac- 
 ter recommended his instructions when a Tutor, and, at all times, made them 
 highly beneficial and gratifying. Instances have been known where he was 
 very successful, bjr his luminous instruction, in extricating the minds of young 
 persons from doubts, perplexity and distress, on religious subjects. He had 
 treasured up a rich fund of the most useful kind of knowledge, which he had 
 acquired with facility, and, by the aid of a strong and retentive memory, he 
 seldom, if ever, lost what he had acquired. 
 
 As a Theologian and Christian Minister, Dr. Stearns was enlightened, sound 
 and evangelical. His sermons, published and preached, are evidence of the 
 truth of this assertion. The Bible was read by him in its original languages, 
 and it was his great aim to understand and present the truth as revealed. On 
 disputed points in Theology he avoided extremes, believing that those articles 
 of faith and nice distinctions in which the learned and godly could not agree, 
 could not be essential to the salvation or edification of the unlearned. But he 
 was candid and liberal in his opinions and feelings towards those who differed 
 from him on religious subjects of controversy, and rejected, with entire dis- 
 approbation, bigotry and an exclusive spirit and practice. He thought for 
 himself, and refused to attach himself to any modern sect, or to call any man 
 master on earth. If he preferred any designating appellation, it was that of 
 a Congregational Minister of Jesus Christ. 
 
152 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 "With all the learning and enlarged powers of Dr. Stearns, he could not 
 probably be called an eloquent preacher. Yet his enunciation was distinct 
 and agreeable, and his sermons well-written, correct, and often powerful to 
 serious and intelligent hearers. * * * * 
 
 " His social disposition and his capacity to enjoy good in the world were 
 remarkable. He enjoyed his family, his friends'and society, in a high degree, 
 and- seemed to be happy and thankful in circumstances in which most men 
 would be comfortless and wretched. Naturally he possessed strong feelings 
 and quick sensibility. But he had happily acquired the government of his 
 passions and feelings. This conquest was gained under the influence of the 
 Christian religion." I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very sincerely yours, 
 
 JOSEPH FIELD. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Burlington, Mass., April 29, 1864. 
 
 My dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Stearns, of Lincoln, was 
 but partial, so that I am able to communicate but little in respect to him. 
 
 He was in person, I should think, about five feet and a half tall; was 
 exceedingly corpulent for a clergyman, and had a very mild, placid counte- 
 nance, that was quite indicative of his temper and disposition. 
 
 I well remember when, after my defection from the Episcopal Church, on 
 account of some scruples I had in regard to the personalicy of the Holy Spirit, 
 I made, in June, 1811, application to the Cambridge Association for approba- 
 tion to preach, (though I had received Deacon's Orders from Bishop Moore, 
 at New York, in February, 1810,) that Dr. Stearns was present; and I well 
 remember too how mild and candid he was at my examination. From all 
 that I ever saw or heard of him, I suppose that, like his neighbour, Dr. Ken- 
 dall, of Weston, he must have been originally an orthodox man, but soft- 
 ened down in his sentiments to Arminianism, and at length strongly inclined 
 to Unitarianism at least, if he was not absolutely a Unitarian, from his inter- 
 course with many of the clergy in the vicinity of Cambridge. He had the 
 reputation of being a good scholar; took much interest in the schools of Lin- 
 coln, I have always understood, the benefit of which they enjoyed for years, I 
 believe, after his decease. The people of Lincoln always seemed to respect 
 him very highly; and, under his fostering care for the interests of education 
 among them, they became (as it seemed to me) an unusually well-informed 
 and orderly community. The Hon. Samuel Hoar, of Concord, Samuel Far- 
 rar, Esq., my particular Tutor at Harvard, (still living at South Andover,) 
 and his brother, the late Professor John Farrar, were all of them, as I believe, 
 fitted for College by him; and, if I do not greatly misrecollect, I heard the 
 latter gentleman once say that Dr. Stearns published a Reading Book, which 
 was once used in the schools at Lincoln. 
 
 Attending a meeting of the Middlesex Bible Society, at his house in Lincoln, 
 about May, 1823, (a Society in which Dr. Stearns took much interest,) I 
 engaged an exchange with him for a Sabbath in July following, which we ful- 
 filled. I remember that when there, on that or some similar occasion, I could 
 not but admire the good sense of his lady, and the appearance of neatness, order 
 and economy, which prevailed in and around the house; by which excellent 
 qualities her husband was enabled to live comfortably and reputably on a 
 very limited salary. He had three sons, I believe, who have been men of dis- 
 tinction in the community. With great respect, 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
CHARLES STEARNS. 153 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN B. WIGHT. 
 
 Wayland, Mass., May 24th, 1804. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir: You ask me to state some of my impressions concerning 
 my venerable and lamented friend, the late Rev. Dr. Stearns of Lincoln. 
 
 In looking back from forty, to fifty years, he rises to my view with many 
 pleasant and interesting associations. In his bodily frame he was large and 
 corpulent. His features were regular and comely. His clear black eyes 
 occasionally sparkled with brightness. His habitual demeanour was remark- 
 ably calm and tranquil. His voice was agreeable and his utterance deliberate 
 and impressive. His scholarship was uncommonly good. He was appointed 
 to a Tutorship at Harvard, on leaving which he received, from the class he 
 had instructed, a present of a silver tankard, which he afterwards consecrated 
 to a religious use by giving it a place on the Communion table of his church. 
 His mind was clear and logical. His habits were contemplative and studious. 
 He composed good sermons with facility and felt no need of exchanges as a 
 relief from his labours in this respect. The aged members of his Society still 
 speak with pleasant remembrances of the interest and benefits of his official 
 ministrations and his social intercourse with his people. The period in which 
 he lived was not a time of the awakened zeal and strenuous efforts which now 
 distinguish many Congregational clergymen in the exercise of their ministry. 
 It was simply his aim and endeavour, as it was in general that of his breth- 
 ren around him and throughout the country, to fulfil with acceptance and 
 spiritual benefit the recognized and customary duties of a Christian Pastor 
 and Teacher. This he faithfully and diligently accomplished through many 
 years; and his labours were not in vain. Under his ministrations, while, as 
 subsequent years have manifested, there were not wanting many instances of 
 the deeper experiences and richer fruits of religion, the people generally, as a 
 Religious Society, were gradually advancing in Christian knowledge, and 
 civilization, and good conduct, and attachment to the institutions of religion; 
 and the town of Lincoln, which constituted the parish of Dr. Stearns, then 
 held, and still holds, a high character among the most respectable and im- 
 proved country towns. 
 
 In the course of his ministry he instituted a High School for the young, 
 which he taught with much popularity and success for several years. By 
 this means he contributed much to the greater efficacy of his religious 
 ministrations, as he thereby surrounded himself with a rising generation of 
 superior intelligence and culture and peculiar personal attachments. His 
 professional services in the adjacent parishes were always highly esteemed, 
 and, in the latter years of his life, when his fine countenance was lighted up 
 with the transfiguring influences of his increasing faith and love, his appear- 
 ance in the sanctuary was venerable and beautiful in a very remarkable degree. 
 
 Yours with best regards, 
 
 JOHN B. WIGHT. 
 
154; UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 WILLIAM BENTLEY, D. D * 
 
 1782—1819. 
 
 William Bentley was a son of Joshua Bentley, a ship carpenter, and 
 was horn in Boston, June 22, 1759. His great-grandfather came from 
 England in the expedition against Quebec, in which he perished, leaving 
 his orphan child, the grandfather of William Bentley, in Boston. He 
 took his Christian name from his maternal grandfather, William Paine, 
 who, being a man of property, and much attached to this grandson, was at 
 the principal expense of his education. He became early distinguished for 
 his acquisitions in classical and general literature. He was graduated at 
 Harvard College in 1777, and was immediately employed as an assistant in 
 the Boston Latin G-rammar School, in which he had been fitted for College. 
 In 1779, he was Preceptor of the North Grammar School in Boston. In 
 1780, he was appointed Latin and Greek Tutor in Harvard College, and 
 held the office until 1783, devoting a portion of his time to the study of 
 Theology, with a view to entering the ministry. At this time, he formed 
 an intimate acquaintance with Albert Gallatin, who was instructor in the 
 French language in the L T niversity. 
 
 In September, 1783, Mr. Bentley was ordained as Colleague Pastor with 
 the Rev. James Dimon, over the East, or Second formed, Church in Salem. 
 On the decease of his colleague, in 1788, he became sole Pastor, and con- 
 tinued so as long as he lived. In the early part of his life, he is said to 
 have been a decided and earnest Calvinist ; and, while he was in College, 
 was associated with a very small number in holding private religious meet- 
 ings, which drew upon him the imputation, from many of his fellow stu- 
 dents, of being righteous over much. He was licensed to preach, and 
 occasionally preached in different places, while he held the Tutorship; 
 and, even at that period, he is said to have been regarded as a Calvinist. 
 Soon after his settlement, however, he seems to have renounced Calvinism : 
 and both he and his college classmate, the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) James 
 Freeman of Boston, became avowed Unitarians. 
 
 In 1794, when the Salem Gazette was published by William Carlton, 
 Mr. Bentley undertook to aid him in his enterprise by writing a summary 
 of news for his paper; which he afterwards continued in the Register as 
 long as he lived. During a severe illness of Mr. Carlton, Mr. Bentley, as 
 an act of friendship, conducted his paper for him. At this period, he 
 commenced a correspondence with Professor Ebel-ing, of Hamburg, who 
 was preparing a History of the United States. The Professor was in want 
 of materials, and Mr. Bentley took unwearied pains to collect and forward 
 (hem to him. The making of this collection is said to have first suggested 
 to Mr. Bentley the writing of the summaries. The papers received in 
 exchange for the Gazette and Register he was accustomed to pack, and 
 send to Professor Ebeling, and, in return, he received valuable German 
 
 * Salem Gazette, 1S19. — Ms. from Mr. J. E. Sprague. — Communication from Mr. Wm. 
 Hopes. 
 
WILLIAM BENTLEY. 155 
 
 publications. The Professor had the papers 'hound, and they form quite 
 an interesting portion of his library, which Colonel Israel Thorndike pur- 
 chased in 1818, and presented to Harvard College. 
 
 Mr. Bentley was once elected Chaplain to Congress, but he declined the 
 honour. In 1805, he was virtually, if not actually, appointed to the Pre- 
 sidency of the College established by Mr. Jefferson in Virginia; but he 
 declined the appointment, observing that his people were his wife, (they 
 were the only wife he ever had,) that he could not take them with him, 
 and would not consent to a divorce. He was one of the earliest members 
 of the Massachusetts Historical Society, and commenced the History of 
 Salem in its Collections, but was prevented from completing it on account 
 of some dissatisfaction with the publishing committee. In 1819, he 
 received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard College. 
 
 Dr. Bentley 's parishioners, being many of them seafaring men, and 
 trading to all parts of the globe, brought home to him various curiosities 
 from different countries, which formed a very interesting cabinet. This 
 he gave to the East India Marine Society's Museum in Salem, — a Society 
 in which he took an early and deep interest. His library, which was one 
 of the largest private libraries in the country, he bequeathed to Mead- 
 ville College, in Pennsylvania, and to the American Antiquarian Society, 
 at Worcester. 
 
 Dr. Bentley had, for many years, suffered from an organic disease of 
 the heart. Having been out one night very late, on a visit to a parish- 
 ioner, who had just returned from a long voyage, he hurried home, and, as 
 the weather was intensely cold, he stood warming himself with his back to 
 the fire. The sudden transition from cold to heat caused the blood to flow 
 to his head, and he fell dead in a moment. He died on the 29th of De- 
 cember, 1819, aged sixty-one years. His Funeral took place January 3, 
 1820. President Kirkland and Dr. Prince prayed, and Edward Everett, 
 then Professor in Harvard College, delivered a Funeral Oration. He had 
 been a zealous Freemason, and was buried with Masonic honours. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Bentley's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon preached at the Stone Chapel, Boston, 1790. A Sermon 
 delivered at Salem, on the Death of Jonathan Gardiner, 1791. A Collec- 
 tion of Psalms and Hymns, 1795. A Masonic Discourse delivered at 
 Roxbury, 1796. The Artillery Election Sermon, 1796. A Sermon deliv- 
 ered at Salem on the Death of General John Fiske, 1797. A Masonic 
 Discourse delivered at Amherst, N. H, 1797. A Masonic Charge deliv- 
 ered at Worcester, 1798. An Address before the Essex Lodge, delivered 
 at Salem, 1798. Description and History of Salem, published in the sixth 
 volume of the Massachusetts Historical Collections, 1800. A Sermon 
 delivered at the Funeral of B. Hodges, 1804. A Sermon delivered at 
 the Ordination of Joseph Bichardson, at Hingham, 1806. A Sermon 
 delivered before the Salem Female Charitable Society, 1807. A Sermon 
 delivered before the Legislature of Massachusetts on the occasion of the 
 General Election, 1807. 
 
156 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE HON. JOSEPH E. SPRAGUE. 
 
 Salem, Mass., November 20, 1851. 
 
 My dear Sir : If I do not succeed in giving you a correct idea of the char- 
 acter of Dr. Bentley, it surely will not be for the want of sufficient opportu- 
 nities of knowing him. He was one of the three Unitarian ministers in this 
 town, and, for many years was in the habit of frequently exchanging with 
 my minister, Dr. Prince. He had two or three pupils, one of whom was my 
 eldest brother, who was also a member of his church. He was a zealous 
 politician, and belonged, in high party times, to the same party with myself. 
 We served together several years on the school committee, and were, for a 
 long time, the two principal writers in the same newspaper. 
 
 In stature Dr. Bentley was below the middle size, — thickly set, weighing, 
 at the age of fifty-two, two hundred and fourteen pounds. He took a great 
 deal of exercise, walking several miles daily, without regard to the weather. 
 There was a pile of stones on the Salem Neck, which was one of the limits of 
 his walks, and was hence called << The Bentley Monument." He retired early, 
 and uniformly rose an hour or two before the sun. He never guarded his feet 
 against the wet, but perforated the sides of his shoes, as the most effectual 
 security against taking cold. He had no chair in his study, but always wrote 
 in a standing posture. His food, when he was at home, was uniform and very 
 simple. He was sensible, for many years, that he had an organic disease of 
 the heart, and supposed that his death would probably occur suddenly. 
 
 That Dr. Bentley was a man of extensive and varied learning, and of immense 
 industry, no one who knew him ever doubted. He is said to have written 
 thirty-three hundred sermons, and fifty-six volumes of other manuscripts, 
 many of them of large size. In his diary, he noted every thing that came 
 to his knowledge, including his observations on Philosophy, Theology, 
 Astronomy, Meteorology, and other branches of science, which were then 
 quite in their infancy. He was reputed to have understood twenty-one lan- 
 guages. He corresponded in Arabic, through the shipmasters in his parish, 
 with some of the petty chiefs in Arabia and Eastern Africa. The Govern- 
 ment, in one or two instances, put in requisition his knowledge of the Orien- 
 tal languages, for translating the credentials of an Eastern Ambassador. 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. Bentley may be said to have been unique — he certainly 
 possessed a volubility, a sort of eloquence, that I am sure you would not hear 
 from any other person; but there was a great lack of clearness in his style, 
 and I am constrained to say, of reverence also, in his manner. He delighted 
 in preaching upon odd texts, and upon special occasions; and no event could 
 occur, of the least moment, private or public, but that he was sure to make 
 it the subject of a discourse, and he would generally find a text that seemed 
 exactly suited to it. When the news came that the embargo was raised, pre- 
 vious to our last war with Great Britain, he arose and looked round upon his 
 audience and announced his text thus, — " There go the ships." It is but fair 
 to say that his preaching was generally considered, even by his own denomi. 
 nation, as less serious and scriptural than could have been desired. In his 
 religious opinions he was generally regarded as a Humanitarian. After his 
 very respectable successor, Dr. Flint, was settled in his place, he preached a 
 sermon on the importance of Family Prayer, and I remember to have been 
 amused at hearing a person who had been trained under Dr. Bentley's more 
 liberal ministrations, denounce it as Calvinism. 
 
 In his politics, Dr. Bentley was an ardent Republican, of the Jefferson and 
 Madison school. During the war, he, with the Universalist clergyman, and 
 three lawyers, joined a voluntary company, all the other members of which 
 were sailors. In the summer of 1814, the Constitution frigate, Co'mmodore 
 Stewart, was chased into Marblehead, by a British squadron,, on Sunday 
 
ELIPHALET POSTER. 157 
 
 afternoon. It was just at the commencement of the afternoon service. Ob- 
 serving a movement amongst his people, and learning what was taking place, 
 he announced the fact from the pulpit, and said that the best service for the 
 afternoon was to defend the Constitution; and immediately dismissed his peo- 
 ple, joined his company, and marched to Marblehead. 
 
 Dr. Bentley was exceedingly talkative, full of amusing anecdote, and impa- 
 tient of opposition in any thing. He was Chairman of the School Commit- 
 tee; and there was no getting on with business, without interrupting him, 
 sometimes almost rudely, as his anecdotes about the Boston schools would 
 have otherwise engrossed the whole time. On the Fourth of July, 1810, both 
 political parties having engaged the same band of music, the committee, to 
 meet this contingency, wished to hasten some of their exercises, and requested 
 Or. Bentley to offer a short prayer. He was so offended at what he deemed 
 an impertinent interference, that he prayed nearly an hour — the consequence 
 of which was that the band, were obliged to leave the house before the Ora- 
 tion was finished. On the Fourth of July, 1812, the committee wished to 
 substitute for the reading of the Declaration of Independence, the reading of 
 certain parts of Mr. Madison's Manifesto, or the Declaration of War. They 
 requested me to select the parts to be read, and to mark them. This I did; 
 and mentioned the wishes of the committee as delicately as I could to Dr. 
 Bentley. He utterly refused to comply with the request, and, declared, with 
 much spirit, that he was not to be dictated to as a school-hoy. I mention 
 these incidents — certainly of no great importance in themselves — to illustrate 
 a trait of Dr. Bentley's character, which was so prominent that it would be 
 impossible to omit it, and give any just idea of the man. 
 
 Dr. Bentley, though eccentric, and, as a minister, not without great faults, 
 had some fine social and moral qualities, which it is pleasant to contemplate. 
 He was distinguished for his benevolence. He had an eye to the temporal 
 wants of his people, a heart that was quick to feel, and a hand that was ready 
 to move for the bestowment of generous benefactions. He had great influence 
 with his congregation, and, as it cost him no effort to express his wishes, it 
 seemed to cost them no sacrifice to comply with them. His zeal in politics, 
 connected perhaps with some other circumstances, had pretty nearly put an 
 end to exchanges between him and the other ministers of the town some time 
 before his death — -still I believe his brethren were always ready to acknowl- 
 edge his good qualities, and the whole community regarded him as an extra- 
 ordinary man. I might enlarge much upon Dr. Bentley's character, but what 
 I have written may perhaps suffice for your purpose. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, faithfully yours, 
 
 JOSEPH B. SPRAGUE. 
 
 ELIPHALET PORTER. D. D * 
 
 1782—1833. 
 
 Elpihalet Porter was horn in what is now called North Bridge- 
 water, Mass., June 11, 1758. He was a son of the Kev. John Porter, 
 a native of Abington, who was graduated at Harvard College in 1736, 
 was ordained at North Bridgewater in 1740, and died in 1802, at the age 
 of eighty-seven. He (the father) was, in his religious views, a decided 
 
 * Dr. Putnam's Fun. Serm. Ms. from Dr. Pierce. 
 
158 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Calvinist, and one or two controversial pamphlets of his remain, to show 
 with what tenacity he held that system of doctrine, and with what earnest- 
 ness he defended it. 
 
 The son entered Harvard College in 1773, and was graduated in 1777, 
 the youngest of three brothers in the same class. He held a highly respect- 
 able rank as a scholar, and was distinguished by the sobriety and correct, 
 ness of his habits. His theological studies he prosecuted under the 
 direction of his father. The First Church in Roxbury had been vacant 
 from the death of the Rev. Amos Adams,* in 1775, for seven years ; and, 
 having heard various candidates, they finally, in 1782, extended a nearly 
 unanimous call to Mr. Porter, of which, in due time, he signified his 
 acceptance. He was ordained Pastor of the church, October 2, 1782, the 
 Sermon being preached by his venerable father, and the Charge delivered 
 by Dr. Samuel Cooper of Boston. 
 
 In October, 1801, he was married to Martha, daughter of Major Nathan. 
 iel Ruggles of Roxbury. She died without issue, in December, 1814. 
 
 In 1807, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 In 1810, Dr. Porter preached the Annual Sermon at the Convention of 
 the Congregational Ministers of Massachusetts ; and this perhaps may be 
 considered the most prominent event of his life. The controversy between 
 the two parties, known as the " orthodox" and the " liberal," was really 
 at that time no new thing; but, so far as the latter class at least were 
 concerned, it had rarely, if ever, been introduced into the pulpit, especially 
 on any great public occasion. Dr. Porter, on the occasion referred to, 
 stepped aside from the course of his predecessors, and, without making any 
 very distinct statement of his own views, brought out a bold and earnest de- 
 fence of some of the general principles for which the liberal party were con- 
 tending. The Sermon produced great excitement at the time, and it has 
 been acknowledged, by those who disliked as well as those who liked it, to 
 be the ablest of Dr. Porter's printed productions. It is important now, 
 chiefly as having marked a sort of epoch in the controversy, and as indica. 
 ting the then existing state of theological opinion. 
 
 The subject of the Discourse was " the Simplicity that is in Christ, and 
 the Danger of its being corrupted." Its general spirit and character may 
 be sufficiently indicated by the following extract : — 
 
 * Amos Adams was born at Medfield, September 1, 1728; was graduated at Harvard Col- 
 lege in 1752 ; was ordained and installed Pastor of the First Church in Roxbury, September 
 12, 1753; and died October 5, 1775, aged forty-eight. He published the Massachusetts 
 Election Sermon, 1759; a Thanksgiving Sermon on the Reduction of Quebec, 1759; a Ser- 
 mon at the Ordination of John Wyeth [who was born at Cambridge; was graduated at 
 Harvard College in 1760 ; was ordained at Gloucester, February 5, 1766; was dismissed in 
 1768; and died February 2, 1811; aged sixty-eight ;] a Sermon preached at Roxbury, 1767; 
 Two Thanksgiving Discourses on Religious Liberty, 1767; Two Fast Discourses, 1769; a 
 Sermon at the Ordination of Caleb Prentice, [who was born at Cambridge, November 25, 
 1746; was graduated at Harvard College in 1765: was ordained and installed Pastor of the 
 Church in Reading, October 25, 1769, and died February 7, 1803, aged fifty -six. He be- 
 longed to the class who were called "Moderate Calvinists," differing, however, very little, 
 if at all, from Arminians. In the War of the Revolution he was a most earnest patriot, and 
 in more than one instance shouldered his musket to meet the enemy. He was greatly 
 respected, not only in his own parish, but throughout the region in which he lived. He was 
 married to the eldest daughter of the Rev. John Mellen, of West Lancaster (now Sterling) j 
 and had thirteen children, — one of whom {Charles) was graduated at Harvard College in 
 3 795, and died in 1820; and another (John) has, for many years, been well known as the 
 editor of a newspaper in Keene, N. H. 3 and still survives (1862) at an advanced age.] 
 
ELIPHALET PORTER. 159 
 
 " But it will be asked if the simple proposition which has heen mentioned" — [Jesus 
 of Nazareth is the Christ] '• is all that we have to demand in the way of Gospel belief. 
 What are we to think of those articles of faith which have been long received in the 
 Church, and considered, perhaps generally, as fundamentals, andessential to be believed? 
 What are we to think, not of those doctrines which have been exploded by Protestants, 
 and which have had, and now have, their turn of being viewed as essential, move 
 extensively than any others; but of those disputed articles of faith which have been 
 retained or taught and required in the Catechisms and Confessions of Protestant and 
 Reformed Churches, and in particular among ourselves? Or, to be more explicit still, 
 for I wish to be understood, — ■ what are we to think of the doctrines of original sin and 
 total depravity; of imputation of sin and righteousness; of a trinity in unily; of the 
 mere humanity, superangelical nature, or absolute Deity of Ohrist; of particular and 
 general redemption; of unconditional decrees of personal election and reprobation; of 
 moral inability, and the total passiveness of man in regeneration ; of the special and 
 irresistible operation of the Holy Spirit; of perseverance, or the impossibility of the 
 believer's total apostacy; and, to mention no more, the absolute eternity of the tor- 
 ments to which the wicked will be sentenced at the last day. 
 
 '' My individual belief, in respect to the truth or error of these points, can be of but 
 little importance, and my subject no way requires that it should be given. It rather 
 becomes me to follow the example which has been sometimes set by learned judges on 
 the bench, when difficult questions suggested themselves, but whose decision the main 
 subject before them did not require; and prudently say, — Neque teneo, neque refetto. 
 But it is pertinent to the object of this discourse, and consonant to my serious and 
 deliberate conviction, to observe that I cannot place my finger on any one article in 
 the list of doctrines just mentioned, the belief or the rejection of which I consider as 
 essential to the Christian faith or character. I believe that an innumerable company 
 of Christians who newer heard of these articles, or who were divided in their opinions 
 respecting them, have fallen asleep in Jesus; and that innumerable of the same 
 description are following after." 
 
 Dr. Porter's life, like that of most parish ministers, was marked by little 
 variety. He continued his stated labours without much interruption till he 
 was past seventy, when it became apparent to both himself and others that 
 his strength was inadequate to the full discharge of the duties of his office. 
 Accordingly, it was agreed that he should have a colleague ; and Mr. 
 George Putnam was called and settled, with his hearty consent and appro- 
 bation. The relations which existed between the Senior and Junior Pastors 
 were mutually kind and agreeable, and when the former died, the latter, in 
 a Funeral Discourse, rendered a warm and grateful tribute to the memory 
 of his venerated friend. 
 
 On the 7th of October, 1832, the Sabbath next succeeding the comple- 
 tion of fifty years of his ministry, Dr. Porter preached a Sermon containing 
 some historical sketches of his parish, and particularly a review of his own 
 ministerial labours. Having referred to his Ordination, he says : — 
 
 " The solemn transactions of that day were adapted to excite reflection, lead to 
 resolutions, and make impressions on the mind, which half a century ought not, and, 
 as the speaker trusts, has not, wholly effaced from his mind. But he laments that they 
 have not had a more constant, powerful and salutary effect on his life and labours. 
 He laments that he has not better fulfilled the ministry he received of the Lord, and 
 better performed his vows. A sense of his many neglects and defects in duty, he can 
 truly say, is the greatest burden of his life; and he would this day humble himself 
 before God. and in the presence of the great congregation, for his want of greater dili- 
 gence and activity, constancy, faithfulness, and zeal, in the discharge of the work given 
 him to do." 
 
 Dr. Porter's health had been gradually sinking for three or four years 
 previous to his death, though he died at last from an attack of pneu- 
 monia. His sufferings, during his last illness, were sometimes very severe, 
 but were endured with a patient and uncomplaining spirit. His death 
 occurred on Saturday, 7th of December, 1833, and his Funeral was attended 
 on the succeeding Wednesday, by a large concourse. The Sermon, by his 
 surviving colleague, was from Genesis xxv, 8, and was published. 
 
160 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Dr. Porter held several important public trusts. He was a member of 
 the board of Overseers of Harvard University, and, from 1818 till his 
 death, a member of the Corporation. He was Treasurer for many years 
 of the Massachusetts Congregational Charitable Society ; was an original 
 Trustee of the Massachusetts Bible Society ; and was among the founders 
 of the Society for the Suppression of Intemperance. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Porter's publications : — 
 
 A Thanksgiving Sermon, preached at Roxbury, 1783. A Discourse 
 delivered before the Roxbury Charitable Society, 1791. A Discourse 
 delivered at Brookline and Roxbury on the National Fast, 1798. A Ser- 
 mon on the Death of Governor Sumner, 1799. A Eulogy on George 
 "Washington, 1800. A Discourse before the Humane Society, Boston, 1802. 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Charles Lowell, 1806. A Sermon before 
 the Society for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians and others 'in 
 North America, 1807. A Sermon before the Massachusetts Convention of 
 Ministers, 1810. An Artillery Election Sermon, 1812. A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of John G. Palfrey, 1818. 
 
 I met Dr. Porter, once or twice, in the early part of my life, but the 
 most that I remember concerning him then is a staid manner, a dignity and 
 gravity, ill-adapted to put a boy at his ease. I saw him at a later period, 
 when he was much more accessible and cordial, showing a rich vein of good 
 sense, but without any excess of vivacity. The movements of both his 
 body and his mind seemed marked by great deliberation. 
 
 PROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Brookline, February 6, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: The Rev. Dr. Porter, of Roxbury, concerning whom you 
 inquire, was my intimate friend, and, during much the greater part of my 
 ministry, one of my nearest clerical neighbours. It costs me no effort, there- 
 fore, to comply with your request in giving you my impressions of his char- 
 acter. 
 
 As to his person, he was not above the common stature, and in his figure 
 was erect and well-proportioned. His hair, which was of chestnut colour, 
 scarcely underwent any perceptible change till the time of his death. He was 
 a ^remarkable instance of unfailing eyesight — neither he nor his father before 
 him ever used glasses. 
 
 The predominating characteristic of his mind was a sound judgment. He 
 always came to his conclusions cautiously, and seldom had occasion subse- 
 quently to alter them. He had what is usually called a discriminating mind — 
 he readily discussed minute points of difference, and sometimes evinced no 
 inconsiderable skill in the management of subtle and knotty questions. He 
 had little or no imagination and pretended to none. But he was distinguish- 
 ed for his sober and correct estimate of things, generally saying the right 
 thing, in the right manner, and at the right time. So remarkable was he for 
 discretion in his social intercourse that it has been said of him that, if his 
 most intimate associates were to become his bitterest enemies, they would 
 find it difficult to use even his most confidential communications to his dis- 
 advantage. In mixed company he was generally very taciturn ; but, among 
 his intimate friends, he was a cheerful and agreeable companion. 
 
 Dr. Porter could, by no means, be ranked among the popular preachers of 
 his day. His manner was entirely simple and unadorned, and his matter, 
 though well digested, and always indicating thought and study, was destitute 
 
ELIPHALET PORTER. 161 
 
 of those striking qualities that usually render u, preacher attractive. His 
 discourses were the product of labour rather than excitement; and they were 
 addressed rather to the understanding than the affections. The late Judge 
 Lowell, who was long one of Dr. Porter's constant hearers, is said to have 
 remarked that of all the preachers whom he was accustomed to hear, there 
 was no one who furnished more food to his intellect than his own Pastor. 
 But, as I have already remarked, with the mass of hearers he could not be 
 regarded as a favourite. 
 
 Being naturally of a reserved habit, his intercourse with his people was 
 less frequent and less free than some of them would have wished; but I believe 
 he was never lacking in due attention to the sick and afflicted. His general 
 gravity and dignity of deportment always secured the respect, not only of his 
 own people, but of the community at large. 
 
 Of Dr. Porter's religious opinions I need say little, as they are perhaps 
 sufficiently indicated by his Convention Sermou, which had considerable 
 celebrity in its day. I may just remark, however, that he was educated a 
 Calvinist, but gradually departed from that form of doctrine, till he settled 
 down, as I have reason to believe, on Arian ground. He was strongly 
 opposed to Creeds and Confessions as a basis of Church Communion, and 
 insisted that all should meet on the common platform of the Bible. 
 
 Dr. Porter evinced great wisdom in the management of his worldly concerns. 
 Indeed, so exact was he that he did not always escape the suspicion of an 
 undue regard to his own interest. But it was not true, after all, that he was 
 a selfish man — ■ on the contrary, he was distinguished for his generosity to 
 the poor; and his hand was always open to every object that he considered a 
 deserving one. 
 
 I must not omit to say that Dr. Porter felt a deep interest in the affairs of 
 the State and the Nation, and sometimes spoke out his political sentiments 
 with considerable freedom. Several times he showed that his prudence was 
 not timidity, by expressing views in the pulpit, which brought him in conflict 
 with some leading individuals of his parish. Some temporary coolness, if 
 not alienation, grew out of his fearlessness in this respect, but I believe that it 
 had nearly all ceased before those in whom it- had appeared went to their 
 graves. I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 faithfully yours, 
 
 JOHX PIERCE. 
 
 PROM THE REV. CHARLES LOWELL, D. D. 
 
 Cambridge, February 11. 1853. 
 
 My dear Friend : My recollections of Dr. Porter are of course very distinct, 
 as I scarcely remember the time when his face was not familiar to me. He 
 was the minister of my childhood at Roxbury. I attended his catechising, 
 which was held once a year. We recited the Assembly's Catechism. After 
 I had entered the ministry, and was a member of the same Association with 
 the Doctor, I asked him whether he realty wished to indoctrinate the children 
 in Calvinism. "Oh!" said he, "I did not think you would understand 
 enough to do you any harm," or something like that. He preached my 
 Ordination Sermon and was my friend as long as he lived. 
 
 Dr. Porter was usually taciturn when I knew him in Roxbury. I remem- 
 ber it was a subject of great solicitude with my sisters, how they should 
 entertain him, when he made a visit at our house. When I knew him as a 
 brother minister, he bore his full part in conversation. He was a man of 
 good sense and good judgment, and, in addition to this, he had a good deal of 
 what is termed dry wit or humour, though he looked so sedate, not to say 
 
 Vol. VIII. 11 
 
162 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 grave; and he had great shrewdness and adroitness in parrying a pleasant 
 thrust at him. I should be glad to put down many-of his good sayings, if I 
 had time and strength to task my memory for them. I recall at this 
 moment but two or three. 
 
 He and I were talking one day together about the Medical Faculty. Both 
 of us had and expressed a high respect for physicians. He was led, however, 
 in the course of conversation, to some expressions that seemed, in a measure, 
 to qualify his praise. I referred to the Scripture as speaking of the profes- 
 sion with commendation, and I quoted, — " Honour a physician," &c. " Oh! " 
 said he, " That is in the Apocrypha. I do not remember just now any thing 
 the Bible has said about them, except in reference to the woman, who was 
 vexed with many physicians and grew nothing better, but rather worse." 
 
 He was on a visit to one of his parishioners one afternoon, where there was 
 a little party of young people. The lady of the house told the Doctor, hesita- 
 tingly, that the young folks would be glad to have a little dance with the aid 
 of the pianoforte, but were afraid to do it lest he should be offended. " Oh 
 no," said he << let them dance, only I hope they will excuse me, as I have 
 my boots on." 
 
 He was very happy in his choice of texts for occasional sermons. By the text 
 which he selected after the death of two of the sons of a very respectable 
 parishioner, he converted the old gentleman into a firm friend, although he 
 had opposed his settlement, and was still unreconciled to it. This gentleman 
 had several sons settled in Baltimore — namely, Joseph, Simeon, Benjamin, 
 &c, Joseph and Simeon died, and Benjamin was taken very ill. The Doctor 
 took for the text of a consolatory sermon, — << Joseph is not, and Simeon is 
 not, and ye will take Benjamin away!" The old man's heart at once warm- 
 ed towards his minister; and when the Doctor shortly after went to see him, 
 he greeted him most cordially. 
 
 If these anecdotes will serve, in any degree, to illustrate the character of 
 jny friend, I shall be glad that they happened to occur to me. 
 
 , Affectionately Yours, 
 
 CHARLES LOWELL. 
 
 JAMES FREEMAN, D. D. 
 
 1782—1835. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE, D. D. 
 
 Boston, September 14, 1850. 
 
 Dear Sir: In complying with your request to furnish you with a Memoir 
 of the late Rev. James Freeman, D. D., of Boston, I anticipate some diffi- 
 culty from the very nearness of the object I am called to describe. One 
 living within the shadow of a mountain cannot draw its outline as well as 
 another at a greater distance. I may experience a like embarrassment, 
 since my boyhood and youth were passed within the near influence of Dr. 
 Freeman's mind. Nevertheless, it is a great pleasure to me to write 
 about him, and, making use, as I shall, of the notices and reminiscences 
 of others, I hope to give a correct statement of the events of his life, and 
 a sufficiently just estimate of his character and influence. 
 
 Dr. Freeman is known to the religious public as the 1 first avowed Preacher 
 of Unitarianism in the United States; he is remembered by the people of 
 
JAMES FREEMAN. 163 
 
 Boston as one, who, for fifty years, was identified with all the best interests 
 of that community — though never ambitious of literary distinction, his 
 writings occupy an important place in the literature of the country, both 
 for justness of thought and purity of expression. But the friends of Dr. 
 Freeman forget all these things in remembering his personal qualities. 
 They recall him as the playfellow of children, the friend and counsellor of 
 youth, the charming companion in social intercourse, whose happy sen- 
 tences were always freighted at once with wit and wisdom, and in whose 
 character were beautifully blended the most austere uprightness and the 
 most generous sympathy. As, however, I cannot speak of these things 
 without appearing to the public to exaggerate, and to his friends to under- 
 state, his peculiar excellence, I shall rather dwell on the outward events 
 of his life, adding, at the close, some traits illustrative of his private 
 character.* 
 
 The first ancestor of Dr. Freeman who came to this country was Samuel 
 Freeman, who was proprietor of the eighth part of Watertown, Mass., a 
 town settled in 1630. His son Samuel, went to Eastham, on Cape Cod, 
 with his father-in-law, Thomas Prince, Governor of Plymouth. He inher- 
 ited his father-in-law's estate in Eastham, and the family remained on Cape 
 Cod till Constant Freeman, the father of the subject of this notice, 
 removed to Charlestown, Mass., about 1755. James Freeman was born 
 in Charlestown, April 22, 1759. But his father moving to Boston soon 
 after, he was sent to the public Latin School in that city, then under the 
 care of Master Lovell, a somewhat famous teacher in his day. He entered 
 the school in 1766. being seven years old, which was at that time the 
 usual age fixed for admission. Among his classmates were the late Judge 
 Dawes, of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, Rev. Jonathan Homer, 
 D. D., of Newton, Admiral Sir Isaac Coffin, of the British Navy, and Sir 
 Bernard Morland, afterward a member of the British 'Parliament. When 
 his friend, Dr. Homer, used to speak of the great men who belonged to 
 their class in the Latin School, Dr. Freeman would sometimes add, — 
 " But, Brother Homer, you forget our classmate who was hanged." The 
 name of this unfortunate member of the class cannot now be supplied. 
 
 James Freeman entered Harvard College in 1773, and was graduated in 
 1777, at the age of eighteen. Among his classmates, were Dr. Bentley 
 aud Bufus King. The American Revolution dispersed the College, and 
 interrupted for a time his studies. But he must have laid the foundation 
 of good scholarship there. In after years, he was an excellent Latin 
 scholar, a good mathematician, and read with ease the French, Italian, 
 Spanish and Portuguese languages. In the latter languages, I recollect 
 his reading for amusement, at the close of his life, the works of Father 
 Feyjoo and Father Vicira. It was his custom to spend an hour after din- 
 ner with his slate and pencil, working out some mathematical problem. 
 With the writings of Cicero, Tacitus, Lucretius, and other Latin authors, 
 he was thoroughly acquainted. Though he always spoke lightly of his own 
 learning, he was far more of a scholar than many men of greater pre- 
 tensions. 
 
 After leaving College, Mr. Freeman went to Cape Cod, to visit his rela- 
 tives there, and, as he strongly sympathized with the Revolutionary move- 
 
164 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ruent, he engaged in disciplining a company of men, who were about to 
 join the Colonial troops. In 1780, he sailed to Quebec, in a small vessel, 
 bearing a cartel, with his sister, to place her with her father, who was then 
 in that city. On his passage, he was captured by a privateer, and was 
 detained at Quebec after his arrival, in a prison-ship, and as a prisoner on 
 parole. He did not leave Quebec till June, 1782, when he sailed again 
 for Boston, arriving there about the 1st of August. Being a candidate for 
 the ministry, he preached in several places, and was invited, in September, 
 to officiate as Reader at the King's Chapel, in Boston, for a term of six 
 months. 
 
 The King's Chapel was originally an Episcopal Church. It was founded 
 in 1686, and a wooden edifice for public worship was built in 1690. It 
 was the first Episcopal Church in New England. The present building, 
 which is of stone, and which is still one of the finest specimens of Church 
 architecture in New England, was erected about one hundred years ago, — 
 the corner-stone having been laid in 1749. Dr. Caner, the Rector of the 
 Church, had espoused the British cause, and he accompanied the British 
 troops, when they evacuated Boston, in 1776. The few proprietors of 
 King's Chapel, who remained in Boston, lent their building to the congre- 
 gation of the Old South Congregational Church, whose house of worship 
 had been used by the British army as a riding school. The two Societies 
 occupied the building alternately, each with its own forms and its own 
 minister, — one in the morning and the other in the afternoon. Under 
 these circumstances Mr. Freeman commenced his services as a Reader. 
 
 I have in my possession a file of letters which Mr. Freeman wrote to 
 his father in Quebec, from which I will make some extracts, showing his 
 opinions and feelings at this time. These letters have probably not been 
 opened for sixty years. 
 
 December 24, 1782. * * * "I suppose, long before this reaches 
 you, you will be made acquainted with my situation at the Chapel. I am 
 now confirmed in the opinion that I shall obtain the settlement for life. 
 The church increases every day, and I am happy to find that my friends 
 are still very partial. I trust you believe that, by entering into this line, 
 I have imbibed no High Church notions. I have fortunately no tempta- 
 tions to be bigoted, for the proprietors of the Chapel are very liberal in 
 their notions. They allow me to make several alterations in the service, 
 which liberty I frequently use. We can scarcely be called of the Church 
 of England, for we disclaim the authority of that country in ecclesiastical 
 as well as in civil matters. * * * I forgot to mention in my former 
 letter the sum I receive for preaching. For the first six months, I am to 
 be paid fifty pounds sterling. This is not much, but, when I engaged, the 
 church was small, consisting only of about forty families. It has already 
 increased to nearly eighty. So that I imagine that at the end of the six 
 months, when I shall enter into new terms, the salary will be increased 
 to two hundred and fifty or three hundred pounds lawful money per annum. 
 I wish for no more. Indeed, if at any period of life, I knew what con- 
 tentment was, it is at the present." 
 
 In the course of the year or two following his settlement, Mr. Freeman's 
 opinions on the subject of the Trinity were so far modified by his studies 
 
JAMES FREEMAN. 165 
 
 and reflections that he found it necessary to propose to his church to alter 
 the Liturgy in the places where that doctrine appears. An English Uni- 
 tarian minister, Mr. Hazlitt, was at that time, residing in Boston, and his 
 intercourse with Mr. Freeman may have contributed to this change of sen- 
 timent. But only as an occasion — for this change of view lay in the 
 direction of the tendencies of Mr. Freeman's mind and of the tendency of 
 thought in that community, as appears from the ease with which Unita- 
 riauism spread in Boston. Mr. Hazlitt was the father of William Hazlitt, 
 the essayist. The latter was born in Boston, and Dr. Freeman used to 
 speak of him as a curly-headed, bright-eyed boy. 
 
 Dr. Greenwood, in his Sermon preached after the Funeral of Dr. Free- 
 man, thus speaks of the way in which this change of the Liturgy was 
 effected. He says that Mr. Freeman first thought of leaving his Society. 
 " He communicated his difficulties to those of his friends with whom he 
 was most intimate. He would come into their houses and say, — -" Much 
 as I love you, I must leave you. I cannot conscientiously any longer per- 
 form the service of the Church, as it now stands. But at length it was 
 said to him, — 'Why not state your difficulties, and the grounds of them, 
 publicly to your whole people, that they may be able to judge of the case, 
 and determine whether it is such as to require a separation between you 
 and them or not?' The suggestion was adopted. He preached a series of 
 sermons, in which he plainly stated his dissatisfaction with the Trinitarian 
 portions of the Liturgy, went fully into an examination of the doctrine of 
 the Trinity, and gave his reasons for rejecting it. He has himself assured 
 me that when he delivered these sermons, he was under a strong impres- 
 sion that they were the last he should ever pronounce from this pulpit. 
 * * * But he was heard patiently, attentively, kindly. The greater 
 part of his hearers responded to his sentiments, and resolved to alter their 
 Liturgy and retain their Pastor." 
 
 Alterations were accordingly made in general conformity with those of 
 the amended Liturgy of Dr. Samuel Clarke, and, on the 19th of June, 
 1785, the proprietors voted, by a majority of three-fourths, to adopt those 
 alterations.* In a letter to his father, dated the first of June, he says, 
 after describing the changes which had been made in the Liturgy, — l; In 
 two or three weeks, the Church will finally pass the vote whether they will 
 adopt the alterations or not. I flatter myself the decision will be favoura- 
 ble ; for out of about ninety families of which the congregation consists, 
 fifteen only are opposed to the reformation. Should the vote pass in the 
 negative, I shall be under the necessity of resigning my living." He adds, 
 however, that, in this case, he has no fear but that he shall find employ- 
 ment elsewhere. " Thus," says Mr. Greenwood, " the first Episcopal 
 Church in New England became the first Unitarian Church in the New 
 World. I mention this not as a matter of boasting, but as an historical 
 fact. He, our departed father, never boasted of it, or, indeed, of any thing 
 he ever did or helped to do, and, at that time, the change in doctrine and 
 
 * Before this vote was taken, the proprietors had taken measures to ascertain who properly 
 belonged to the church as pew-holders, and what pews had been forfeited by the absence of 
 their former owners, according to the letter of their deeds. And, that no ground of complaint 
 should exist, the proprietors engaged to pay for every vacated pew, though legally forfeited, 
 the sum of sixteen pounds to its former owner.'' — Greenwood's History of King's Chapel. 
 
166 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 service which was effected, was certainly not regarded by Pastor or people 
 as a subject of triumph, but of serious and arduous duty. The young 
 Reader at King's Chapel was surely placed in peculiar circumstances. It 
 is his praise that he made a right and manly use of them ; that he did not 
 {.mother his convictions and hush down his conscience, and endeavour to 
 explain away to himself, for the sake of a little false and outward peace, 
 the obvious sense of the prayers which he uttered before God and his peo- 
 ple, but took that other and far better course of explicitness and honesty. 
 By this proper use of circumstances he placed himself where he now stands 
 in our religious history."* 
 
 The next thing to be considered was the mode of Ordination to be 
 received by Mr. Freeman, who was as yet only a Reader. In a letter to 
 his father, dated Oct. 31st, 1786, he describes an application made to 
 Bishop Seabury of Connecticut, and Bishop Provost of New York, for 
 Ordination, from which the following extracts are taken, which illustrate 
 both the opinions of the time, and the cool self-possessed character of Mr. 
 Freeman. 
 
 " My visit to Bishop Seabury terminated as I expected. Before I waited 
 upon him, he gave out that he never would ordain me, but it was neces- 
 sary to ask the question. He being in Boston last March, a committee of 
 our Church waited upon him, and requested him to ordain me, without 
 insisting upon any other conditions than a declaration of faith in the Holy 
 Scriptures. He replied that, as the case was unusual, it was necessary 
 that he should consult his presbyters — the Episcopal clergy in Connecti- 
 cut. Accordingly, about the beginning of June, I rode to Stratford, 
 where a Convention was holding, carrying with me several letters of recom- 
 mendation. I waited upon the Bishop's presbyters and delivered my 
 letters. They professed themselves satisfied with the testimonials which 
 they contaiued of my moral character, &c, but added that they could not 
 recommend me to the Bishop for Ordination upon the terms proposed by 
 my church. For a man to subscribe the Scriptures, they said, was nothing, 
 for it could never be determined from that what his creed was. Heretics 
 professed to believe them not less than the orthodox, and made use of them 
 in support of their peculiar opinions. If I could subscribe such a declara- 
 tion as that I could conscientiously read the whole of the Book of Common 
 Prayer, they would cheerfully recommend me. I answered that I could 
 not conscientiously subscribe a declaration of that kind. ' Why not V 
 ' Because there are some parts of the Book of Common Prayer which I 
 do not approve.' ' What parts ?' « The prayers to the Son and the Holy 
 Spirit.' 'You do not then believe the doctrine of the Trinity.' 'No.' 
 ' This appears to us very strange. We can think of no texts which counte- 
 nance your opinion. We should be glad to hear you mention some.' ' It 
 would ill become me, Gentlemen, to dispute with persons of your learning 
 and abilities. But if you will give me leave, I will repeat two passages 
 which appear to me decisive : There is one God, and one Mediator between 
 God and man, the man Christ Jesus. There is but one God, the Father, 
 and one Lord Jesus Christ. In both these passages Jesus Christ is plainly 
 distinguished from God, and in the last, that God is expressly declared to 
 • Greenwood's Sermon after the Funeral of Dr. Freeman, p. 11. 
 
JAMES FREEMAN. 167 
 
 be the Father.' To this they made no other reply than an 'Ah !' which 
 'echoed round the room. 'But are not all the attributes of the Father,' 
 said one, ' attributed to the Son in the Scriptures ? Is not Omnipotence 
 for instance ?' ' It is true,' I answered, ' that our Saviour says of Him- 
 self, All power is given unto me, in Heaven and Earth. You will please 
 to observe here that the power is said to be given. It is a derived power. 
 It is not self-existent and unoriginated, like that of the Father.' ' But is 
 not the Son omniscient V Does He not know the hearts of men V ' Yes, 
 He knows them by virtue of that intelligence which He derives from the 
 Father. But, by a like communication, did Peter -know the hearts of 
 Ananias and Sapphira.' After some more conversation of the same kind, 
 they told me that it could not possibly be that the Christian world should 
 have been idolaters for seventeen hundred years, as they must be accord- 
 ing to my opinions. In answer to this, I said that Whether they had been 
 idolaters or not I would not determine, but that it was full as probable 
 that they should be idolaters for seventeen hundred years as that they 
 should be Roman Catholics for twelve hundred. They then proceeded to 
 find fault with some part of the new Liturgy. ' We observe that you 
 have converted the absolution into a prayer. Do you mean by that to 
 deny the power of the Priesthood to absolve the people, and that God has 
 committed to it the power of remitting sins?' 'I meant neither to deny 
 nor to affirm it. The absolution appeared exceptionable to some persons, 
 for which reason it was changed into a prayer, which could be exception- 
 able to nobody.' ' But you must be sensible, Mr. Fr.eeman, that Christ 
 instituted an order of Priesthood, and that to them He committed the 
 power of absolving sins. Whose soever sins ye remit they are remitted 
 unto him, and whose soever sins ye retain they are retained.' To this I 
 made no other reply than a return of their own emphatic Ah ! Upon the 
 whole, finding me an incorrigible heretic, they dismissed me without grant- 
 ing my request. They treated me, however, with great candour and 
 politeness, begging me to go home, to read, to alter my opinions, and then 
 to return and receive that Ordination, which they wished to procure me 
 from their Bishop. I left them and proceeded to New York. When there 
 I waited on Mr. Provost, Hector of the Episcopal Church, who is elected 
 to go to England to be consecrated a Bishop. I found him a liberal man, 
 and that he approved of the alterations which had been made at the Chapel. 
 Of him I hope to obtain Ordination, which I am convinced he will cheer- 
 fully confer, unless prevented by the bigotry of some of his clergy. The 
 Episcopal ministers in New York, and in the Southern States, are not 
 such High Churchmen as those in Connecticut. The latter approach very 
 near to Roman Catholics, or at least equal Bishop Laud and his followers. 
 Should Provost refuse to ordain me, I shall then endeavour to effect a 
 plan which I have long had in my head, which is to be ordained by the 
 Congregational ministers of the town, or to preach and administer the 
 ordinances without any Ordination whatever. The last scheme I most 
 approve ; for I am fully convinced that he who has devoted his time to the 
 study of divinity, and can find a congregation who are willing to hear him 
 is, to all intents, a minister of the Gospel; and that, though imposition of 
 hands, either of Bishops or Presbyters, be necessary to constitute him 
 
1G8 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Priest in the eye of the law, in some countries, yet that, in the eye of 
 Heaven, he has not less of the indelible character than a Bishop or a Pa- 
 triarch. Our early ancestors, who, however wrong they might be in some 
 particulars, were in general sensible and judicious men, were of this 
 opitiioti. One of the articles of the Cambridge Platform is that the cull 
 of the congregation alone consmutes a man a minister, and that imposition 
 of hands by Bishops or Elders is a mere form, which is, by no means, essen- 
 tial. The same sentiments are adopted by the most rational clergy in the pres- 
 ent day, who give up the necessity of Ordination as indefensible, and ridi- 
 cule the doctrine of the uninterrupted succession as a mere chimera. I am 
 happy to find many of my hearers join with me in opinion upon this subject." 
 
 As might, perhaps, have been foreseen, it was found impossible to pro- 
 cure Episcopal Ordination, and Mr. Freeman and his church finally deter- 
 mined on a method differing from both of those suggested in his letter. He 
 was neither ordained by the Congregational ministers of Boston, nor yet 
 did he omit all ceremony of induction, but (as Mr. Greenwood says) he fell 
 back on first principles, and was ordained by the church itself, by a solemn 
 service at the time of evening prayer, November 18th, 1787. The War- 
 dens entered the desk after the usual evening service, and the Senior 
 Warden made a short address, showing the reasons of the present pro- 
 cedure. The first ordaining prayer was read, then the ordaining vote, to 
 which the members gave assent by rising, by which they chose Mr. Freeman 
 to be their " Rector, Minister, Priest, Pastor, and Ruling Elder." Other 
 services followed, among which was the presenting a Bible to the Rector, 
 enjoining on him " a due observance of all the precepts contained therein." 
 
 On the 17th of July, 1788, Mr. Freeman was married to Martha (Curtis) 
 the widow of Samuel Clarke, merchant of Boston. He had no children, 
 though Mrs. Freeman had one son by her first marriage. She died on the 
 24th of July, 1841, aged eighty-six years. 
 
 From the time that Mr. Freeman was thus set apart to his office, he 
 sustained the various duties of the ministry till 1809, when the Rev. 
 Samuel Cary was, at his request, associated with him as colleague ; after 
 whose death, in 1815, he again served alone till 1824, when the Rev. F. W. 
 P. Greenwood was inducted as colleague. In 1811, he was honoured with 
 the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard College. In 1826, his 
 health, had so far given way that he was obliged to give up his duties to 
 Mr. Greenwood, and retire to a country residence near Boston. Here he 
 lived nine years, surrounded by the affection of young and old, and, though 
 suffering from painful disease, always cheerful, and at length expired, No- 
 vember 14, 1835, in the seventy-seventh year of his age, and the fifty- 
 fourth of his ministry. 
 
 Dr. Freeman was a member of the first School Committee ever chosen 
 by the people of Boston, which was elected in 1792, the schools before 
 that time being under the charge of the Selectmen of the town. He was 
 for many years on this Committee, and was one of those by whose labours 
 the Public School System of Boston has been brought to its present excel- 
 lent condition. He was one of the founders of the Massachusetts Histori- 
 cal Society, and, during a long period, one of its most active collaborateurs, 
 contributing many valuable papers to its Collections. He was a member 
 
JAMES FREEMAN. 169 
 
 of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. His publications consist 
 of a Thanksgiving Sermon, 1784; a Description of Boston, published in 
 the Boston Magazine, 1784 ; Remarks on Morse's American Universal 
 Geography, 1793; a Sermon on the Death of Rev. John Eliot, D. D., 
 1813 ; a volume of Sermons published in 1812, which passed through 
 three editions ; and another volume in 1829, printed as a gift for his 
 parish, but not published ; besides many articles in periodicals. He 
 printed no controversial sermons, and seldom preached them. His style 
 was sententious and idiomatic, and has often been spoken of as a model of 
 pure English. Though there is no trace of ambitious thought or expres- 
 sion in his writings, their tone and spirit are wise and healthy. 
 
 Although Dr. Ereeman was the first, who, in this country, openly 
 preached Unitarianism, under that name, he never claimed the credit of 
 that movement, but referred to Dr. Mayhew and others as having preached 
 the same doctrine before. This was no doubt true. Some form of Arian- 
 ism had prevailed in New England for several years before Dr. Freeman's 
 time. Yet, as he was the first to avow and defend the doctrine by its dis- 
 tinct name, he may no doubt be considered as its first preacher. This fact 
 necessarily brought him into relations with other advocates of these opin- 
 ions, and he corresponded with Priestley and Belsham, and especially with 
 Theophilus Lindsey, whose character he much esteemed. He also had 
 sympathy from Chauncy, Belknap, and others older than himself, and 
 among his contemporaries from men like Bentley, Clarke, Eliot, Kirkland. 
 And, as he loved to " keep his friendships in repair," he was surrounded 
 in after years by multitudes of younger friends and disciples. He loved 
 the young, and always sought to help them. I have been told of his 
 urging new married people among his parishioners to join the smaller and 
 struggling parish of some young minister — "Go there," he would say, 
 "and grow up with that church, and make yourselves useful in it." He 
 sympathized with young men in their diffident first efforts, and always 
 encouraged and befriended them. How then could the young help loving 
 him ? He was no zealot for his own opinions, but a thoroughly lib- 
 eral man, and was intimate with men of all denominations. The good 
 Bishop Cheverus was one of his best friends. He could not tolerate intol- 
 erance, and disliked Unitarian bigotry quite as much as Orthodox bigotry. 
 I have heard him say " Sterne complains of the cant of criticism. I think 
 the cant of liberality worse than that. I have a neighbour who comes and 
 entertains me that way, abusing the Orthodox by the hour, and, all the 
 time, boasting of his own liberality." He carried this freedom of mind 
 into matters of taste as well as matters of opinion. Bred in the school 
 which admired the writers of Queen Anne's day, he loved Addison, Pope, 
 Swift, Gay, and in Theology, such writers as the Boyle Lecturers and 
 James Foster. But finding that many young persons were interested in 
 Wordsworth and Coleridge, he patiently read these authors to see if he 
 could find any good in them. I remember his reading Coleridge's " Aids to 
 Reflection," and his " Friend," in the last years of his life, and, when he 
 had finished them, he said, " I find some excellent ideas in him, though I 
 do not understand all his mysteries. He is a cloudy fellow. I leave those 
 parts to you younger folks." 
 
170 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 The leading traits in Dr. Freeman's character, which immediately im- 
 pressed all who saw him, were benevolence, justice, and a Franklin-like 
 sagacity. He could endure to see no kind of oppression, and was always 
 ready to take sides with any whom he thought overborne. He was punc- 
 tilious in keeping all engagements, and his honesty descended into the 
 smallest particulars of life. A lady said she had seen him once under the 
 following circumstances. " I was riding, with another lady, past Dr. Free- 
 man's house, in the town of Newton, and we noticed a dwelling opposite, 
 which seemed closed and unoccupied, the garden of which was full of 
 flowers. We thought of gathering a few, and while we hesitated, we 
 noticed an old gentleman, with long white locks hanging on his shoulders, 
 slowly walking on the other side of the road. I asked him whether he 
 thought that, as there was no one living in the house, we might gather 
 some of the flowers. He looked up at us with an arch smile, and said, 
 " They are not my flowers, pretty ladies." Somewhat confused, I repeated 
 my question, to which he replied, — " I have no right to give them to you, 
 they are not my flowers, pretty ladies." We rode away, not knowing till 
 afterward who it was, but having received a lesson in regard to the rights 
 of others which we were not likely soon to forget." 
 
 I will add a few examples taken from his familiar conversation, which, 
 however trifling in themselves, will illustrate his character and turn of 
 mind. A lady, who had heard of the Atheist, Abner Kneeland, giving 
 public lectures in defence of his views, said, " What a dreadful thing it is, 
 Dr. Freeman !" " I think it will do a great deal of good," replied he, and 
 then mentioned a variety of facts to show that arguments in support of Iufi- 
 delity had always brought out so many new defences of Christianity as to 
 leave religion on a higher and more impregnable basis. 
 
 He was a great lover of truth, but his regard for the feelings of others 
 kept him from harshness. To u, young friend, whom he thought in dan- 
 ger of carrying independence too far, he said,—" It is well to be candid, 
 but you need not say every thing which is in your mind. If a person, on 
 being introduced to me, should say, ' Dr. Freeman, what a little, old, ugly, 
 spindle-shanked gentleman you are,' he would no doubt say what was in 
 his mind, but it would not be necessary, I think, for him to say it." 
 
 Some one said to him of a book, — " It is too long." "All books are too 
 long," he replied, — " I know only one book which is not too long, and that 
 is Robinson Crusoe, and I sometimes think that a little too long." 
 
 He related this anecdote of the famous Mather Byles. " I was once 
 walking with Dr. John Clarke, and we met Mather Byles. He took my 
 arm and said, — " Now we have the whole Bible here. I am the Old Tes- 
 tament, you, Mr. Clarke, are the New Testament, and as for Mr. Freeman, 
 he is the Apocrypha." 
 
 As Dr. Freeman was talking one evening in his own family, I took a pen- 
 cil and paper, and took notes of his remarks without his being aware of it. 
 From this paper I copy the following sentences. 
 
 " Do you see human faces in the coals of fire? The propensity I have 
 to form the human figure is frequently annoying to me. I make men and 
 immediately put them into a fiery furnace." 
 
 " I find I am growing very thin. Some people carry handkerchiefs to 
 
JAMES FREEMAN. 171 
 
 wipe away tears which they do not shed, so I wear clothes to conceal limbs 
 which I do not possess." 
 
 " Is that Coleridge you are reading? Coleridge himself reads curious 
 books, — the author who wrote in Latin at the revival of learning. We 
 have better writers now. To be sure, there were Grotius and Eudseus, 
 who were excellent writers, and especially Erasmus. Knox, wrote well. 
 But he was an arrogant and rash man. He condemned the French Sermon 
 writers, and said how inferior they were to the English. As an instance, 
 he quoted an Englishman, who had in fact copied from the French. That 
 fellow did not find it out. In his Essays he declares all mysteries and all 
 knowledge, gives advice to young merchants and to young tailors. He was 
 a man of bad manners. He attacked the King of Prussia bitterly. I 
 should think the King might get sight of such a book. He stood such 
 things, however, with great fortitude. He was satisfied with possessing 
 absolute power." 
 
 " You are reading John Buncle. The author, it seems, was a Unitarian. 
 About Emlyn's days, Unitarianism had not made much progress. Did he 
 get any persecution ? They used to put Unitarians in jail. Our ances- 
 tors would have undoubtedly done so, or more probably would have put 
 them to death. But none appeared. Dr. Mayhew was the first who cared 
 much about it. There was a certain concealment practised before about 
 the Trinity. Fisher (of Salem I suppose) had a singular way of satisfying 
 his conscience. He was asked how he could read the Athanasian creed 
 when he did not believe it. He replied, 'I read it, as if I did not believe 
 it.' Those are poor shifts. Mr. Pyle being directed by his Bishop to read 
 it, did so, saying,' — • I am directed to read this, which is said to have been 
 the creed of St. Athanasius, but God forbid that it should be yours or 
 mine.' Another man had set it to a hunting-tune and sang it. These, I 
 think, would hardly satisfy the conscience of a truth-loving man." 
 
 This is a random specimen of his conversation in the last years of his 
 life. If any one had thought of recording his sayings, a very agreeable 
 book of table-talk might have been easily prepared. But this is one of 
 the things we are apt to remember when it is too late. 
 
 I cannot better close this notice than by some further extracts from Dr. 
 Greenwood. 
 
 " Dr. Freeman was truly humble, but he was above all the arts of 
 deception and double-dealing ; and he could not be awed or moved in any 
 way from self-respect and duty. He made all allowances for ignorance 
 and prejudice and frailty, but arrogance he would not submit to, and 
 hypocrisy he could not abide." 
 
 He possessed in a remarkable manner the virtue of contentment. You 
 
 heard no complaints from him. He was abundantly satisfied with his lot 
 
 he was deeply grateful for his lot. The serenity of his countenance was • 
 an index to the serenity of his soul. The angel of contentment seemed 
 to shade and fan it with his wings. ' I have enjoyed a great deal in this 
 life,' he used to say, • a great deal more than I deserve.' " 
 
 " He loved children, and luved to converse with and encourage them, 
 and draw out their faculties and affections. His manners, always affable 
 and kind, were never so completely lovely as in his intercourse with them. 
 
172 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Naturally and insensibly did he instil moral principles and religious thoughts 
 into their minds, and his good influence, being thus gentle, was permanent." 
 
 " The mind of Dr. Freeman was one of great originality. It arrived at 
 its own conclusions, and in its own way. You could not be long in his 
 society without feeling that you were in the presence of one who observed 
 and reflected for himself." 
 
 " Even when his mind grew enfeebled, it showed its strength in weak- 
 ness. His memory sometimes failed him, and his ideas would become 
 somewhat confused, in the few months preceding his death ; but his bear- 
 ing was always calm and manly ; he fell into no second childhood." 
 
 " He looked upon death, as it approached him, without fear, yet with 
 pious humility. He viewed the last change as a most solemn change ; the 
 judgment of God upon the soul as a most solemn judgment. ' Let no one 
 say, when I am dead,' — so he expressed himself to his nearest friends, — 
 ' that I trusted in my own merits. I trust only in the mercy of God 
 through Jesus Christ.' " 
 
 So lived, laboured and died James Freeman. A man who impressed 
 himself on all his friends, on his community, and on his time, as a. pure 
 and true influence, for which we might well be grateful. Many might say, 
 in the words of French philosophers — " D'autres ont eu plus d'influence, 
 sur mon esprit, et mes ide'es. Lui, ma montre une ame Chretienne. 
 C'est encore a lui que je dois le plus." 
 
 Very truly yours. 
 
 JAMES FREEMAN CLAEKE. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL J. MAT. 
 
 Syracuse, September 24, 1863. 
 
 My dear Sir: Dr. Freeman, concerning whom j-ou ask for my recollections, 
 was my parents' Pastor during the whole of his ministry, and one of my 
 father's most valued and intimate friends. Such was his regard for him that 
 I should have been honoured with his name, but for the death of two broth- 
 ers, by whom my parents had hoped to perpetuate.in the family the two names 
 which I bear. 
 
 It was a part of my education to respect Dr. Freeman; and his reverent 
 aspect and manners deepened the impression. But though I stood in awe of 
 him, I loved "to pluck his gown, to share the good man's smile," which was 
 one of the sweetest that ever illuminated a human countenance. 
 
 Dr. Freeman was somewhat below the ordinary stature. 'He had a full, 
 solid person, and a face in which great benignity and high intelligence were 
 beautifully blended. His manners were characterised by gentleness and scru- 
 pulous courtesy. He seemed desirous to make all about him pleased with 
 themselves; and it was thought that sometimes his politeness to the fair sex 
 led him to flatter them. But his benevolence was most conspicuous in his 
 attention to the poor and the afflicted. Nothing that he could do or induce 
 others to do to supply their wants or alleviate their sorrows, was omitted. 
 He had fine social qualities, which made him very attractive in private life, 
 but he was little given to visiting, even in his own congregation, beyond a 
 limited circle. He lived, during the greater part of the year, in the country, 
 a few miles from Boston, formerly in Dorchester, latterly in Newton, where 
 he not only industriously prosecuted his studies, but indulged his great love 
 of horticulture, and exercised his skill' and taste in the production of fine 
 
JAMES FREEMAN. 173 
 
 fruits and beautiful flowers. This quiet, retired manner of life was not 
 merely agreeable to him, but rendered necessary by a local disease, often 
 very annoying, under which he suffered during the last twenty-five years of 
 his life. 
 
 In 1825, having served as minister of King's Chapel* nearly forty years, 
 he was compelled by his infirmities to withdraw. His parishioners reluct- 
 antly consented to the separation, and, as an assurance of their respect and 
 affection, they voted him fifteen hundred dollars a year for the residue of his 
 life. He enjoyed this annuity ten years, during which time he never felt able 
 to enter the pulpit. 
 
 Dr. Freeman, for u, while after his induction into the ministry, sustained 
 a somewhat isolated position, being excluded from ministerial intercourse 
 with the Episcopalians on the one hand, and not wholly instated among the 
 Congregationalists on the other. Ere long, however, he conciliated the confi- 
 dence of the latter, and, in due time, secured the respect of all, as a, most 
 conscientious and honourable man. He did not exchange pulpits often, for 
 the reason, I suppose, that he did not like extempore prayer, and several 
 of the neighbouring ministers were embarrassed in the use of the Prayer 
 Book, and by the order of Services, which were very similar to those of 
 the Episcopal Church. But I well remember that in 1807 or 1808, when 
 the Old South Meeting House was undergoing extensive repairs and altera- 
 tions, Dr. Eckley, with his congregation occupied King's Chapel on one part 
 of several successive Sundays, and Dr. Freeman on the other; and between 
 the two venerable men, I believe, a cordial friendship always existed. He 
 lived on the most intimate terms with Dr. Howard, of the West Church and 
 Dr. Eliot, of the New North; and was an esteemed member of the Boston 
 Association before, as well as after, the division of that Body, caused by the 
 controversy which commenced in 1815. 
 
 Dr. Freeman's religious opinions underwent considerable changes in the 
 course of his ministiy . At the time of his settlement, he was probably not far- 
 ther from the accredited orthodoxy of that day than Dr. Samuel Clarke. In 
 his later years, I have reason to believe that he became decidedly a Humani- 
 tarian. His sermons, however, were seldom doctrinal, less frequently con- 
 troversial. Much of the greater part of them would have been deemed unex- 
 ceptionable, in doctrine as well as spirit, by christians of any communion. 
 They were remarkable for clearness of thought and simplicity of diction. So 
 studious was he of precision that no unnecessary adjective ever escaped his 
 pen. 
 
 In the delivery of his sermons, he generally used hut little gesture, and was 
 not very animated. Still there was a quiet and often pathetic earnestness, 
 that did not fail to secure the attention of his auditors. On special occa- 
 sions, particularly of affliction, he sometimes exhibited the deepest emotion. 
 I well remember that the Sunday after the death of Dr. Eliot, in attempting 
 to delineate the character of his friend, he was completely overcome, burst 
 into tears, and was obliged to omit a part of his discourse. 
 
 The most remarkable instance of this weakness (if weakness it must be 
 called, for a man to-be unable to repress feelings .that are the glory of our 
 human nature) occurred at the grand celebration, in King's Chapel, of the 
 downfall of Bonaparte, in 1814. Dr. Channing preached on the occasion one 
 of his great sermons. Dr. Freeman read selections which he had made from 
 the Scriptures, so appropriate that it seemed as if he had culled the history 
 
 * Many persons queried why the church was called King's Chapel, after the Revolution 
 had dissolved our connection with the Royal Personage, by whose direction, and under whose 
 patronage it was built. I believe it was at the suggestion of Dr. Freeman that the name 
 was retained, with the understanding that the King of Kings should be meant. 
 
174 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 of the modern usurper from the pages of the Bible. When he came to the 
 end, I well remember, he raised himself to his utmost height, stretched out 
 his arms, as if in a majestic transport, his face perfectly radiant with emo- 
 tion, his eyes flashing unwonted fire, and shouted at the top of his voice, — 
 " Babylon the Great has fallen; Babylon the Great has fallen! Hallelujah! 
 Praise ye the Lord!!" and then burst into tears. The whole audience was 
 carried away with the emotion. Many who were sitting sprang to their feet, 
 and the loudest applause was hardly suppressed. 
 
 Hoping that these fragmentary recollections will help you to perfect your 
 intended sketch of that venerable man's character and life, I remain, as I 
 have been for more than forty years, Very truly your friend, 
 
 SAMUEL J. MAY. 
 
 FROM THE REV. FREDERICK A. PARLEY, D. D. 
 
 Brooklyn, 24th March, 1864. 
 «». Rev. and Dear Sir: You were kind enough to ask me -for «< a contribution 
 concerning any body " to your forthcoming " volume of Unitarian Annals " 
 in the form of << a familiar letter." Here you have it in a few reminiscences 
 of the Rev. Dr. Freeman of Boston, whom I have always regarded as the 
 pioneer and first out-spoken and avowed advocate of our denominational faith 
 among American clergymen, and of his second colleague and distinguished 
 successor in the ministry at King's Chapel, the late Rev. Dr. Greenwood. 
 
 Of both I have very distinct recollections. Dr. Freeman was the Pastor of 
 my youth. He had a surprising sweetness and yet dignity of carriage, which I 
 have rarely seen so remarkably combined. The expression of his countenance 
 was bland and gentle as a woman's; and his manners were most refined and 
 courteous. In his pastoral walk he was always delightful, and with the 
 young specially winning and attractive. I can never forget him at the bedside 
 of my excellent and dearly loved dying mother, when I was a boy of thirteen. 
 He had come home with me from morning service on the Sabbath, at the request 
 of my father, which I had carried to him, and found my mother perfectly 
 unconscious. He knelt by her side and prayed — but while he prayed, she 
 gently took her departure,— so gently that the family were only first made 
 aware of it by noticing the change of his voice; thanking God in a lofty tone 
 of piety for her pure, Christian, and beautiful life, — which, as he afterwards 
 more than once told me, he well knew and appreciated; — and commending it 
 to the consolation and imitation of her survivors. 
 
 Dr. Freeman was a man of great firmness and boldness of character withal, 
 and of transparent honesty. He abhorred shams of every sort. Perhaps this 
 was the reason why he never cultivated oratory; for he was wont to speak 
 of oratory as trick. It has often amazed me, knowing the tenderness and 
 warmth of his heart and his highly emotional nature, to notice how over-calm 
 was his pulpit manner. Yet I have known him often to break utterly down in 
 the pulpit, under the weight of emotions which he could not control. When I 
 became old enough fully to understand and appreciate his sermons, although 
 in general addressed to the sober judgment or cool moral sense of his hearers, 
 they often held me enchained by their perfect truthfulness. When I was 
 about seventeen and during my college life, I remember two sermons, preached 
 on successive Sabbaths, on the " Character of the Just Man," which so pow- 
 erfully impressed me that I lingered till the congregation retired, and then 
 went and begged him to permit me to read and copy them. 
 
 Of Dr. Greenwood I retain recollections equally delightful. We were 
 brought up in the same church; a church, by the way, which has given sev- 
 eral ministers of our faith to the world within my remembrance: viz., Green- 
 wood and Rev. Thomas Russell Sullivan, like him now numbered with the dead ; 
 
JAMES FREEMAN. 
 
 175 
 
 Rev. Samuel J. May, of Syracuse, N. Y.; Rev. James Freeman Clarke, D. D., 
 and Rev. J. T. Sargent, of Boston; Rev.S. G.Bulfinch, late of Dorchester, Mass.; 
 all of whom are living. With Dr. Greenwood I had no personal acquain- 
 tance before the year 1825, when he had become colleague to the venerable 
 and beloved Dr. Freeman, the Pastor of our young days at King's Chapel. 
 "When I began my theological studies, Dr. Freeman had retired an invalid 
 from his active ministry, and ceased to preach; and Dr. Channing and Dr. 
 Greenwood became my chosen counsellors and friends. With the latter I was 
 at that period thrown, by greater nearness of age and other circumstances, into 
 very frequent and intimate intercourse; to both I was indebted for great aid 
 in doubts and difficulties, which I from time to time met, and for invaluable 
 hints and advice in my future professional walk. No father could have been 
 kinder than Dr. Channing, no brother than Dr. Greenwood. I remember, on 
 one occasion, when our studies at Cambridge had led us into the intricate 
 problems of God's Sovereignty, Man's Freedom, and Man's Accountableness, 
 that I became exceedingly puzzled by the Priestleyan views of Philosophical 
 Necessity; and really came near making shipwreck of all religious faith. I 
 kept my doubts to myself for a time, until they haunted and tortured me day 
 and night. Study, meditation, prayer, did not help me. In my distress, — !">r 
 distress most certainly it was, — I went to Boston, and at once to Greenwood's 
 study". I unbosomed to him immediately my distress and my difficulties, and 
 the imminent and terrible peril in which I felt myself. He was thought cold 
 by many; unsympathetic by those who did not know him, by reason of a 
 peculiarly staid and quiet manner. Yet he was any thing but cold. He entered 
 instantly and most cordially into my feelings; and told me he had experienced 
 exactly the same and from the same cause. " Still," he said, substantially, 
 " the solution was very easy and simple. I interrogated my consciousness, and 
 my consciousness declared that I was a. free agent, and that proved enough. 
 It stood proof against any and every difficulty or doubt or argument, however 
 subtle. There was my ultimate appeal; and it echoed always to my moral 
 freedom. I am conscious that I am a free and an accountable agent. I know, 
 therefore, that lam free and accountable." What was enough for him proved 
 enough for me. It was light to me at once. The load was lifted from mind 
 and heart, and I left him rejoicing. 
 
 When about to be ordained to the Christian ministry at Providence, R. I., 
 I told Greenwood that of all things I should be delighted to have Dr. Free- 
 man give me the < Charge.' He replied by reminding me that' Dr. Freeman 
 was too feeble to go from home at all, and especially to so great a distance; 
 but added that he dared say he would be pleased at being asked. Accordingly, 
 we drove together to Newton; and found the good old man, although at times 
 a great sufferer, that day very comfortable, and glad to see us. He said it 
 was impossible for him to go to Providence, much as he should be pleased to; 
 but he would < charge ' me then and there. Immediately he proceeded to give 
 me an abundance of valuable hints; and, before closing, lashed Greenwood over 
 my shoulders by charging me not to finish my sermons in the pulpit, as his 
 excellent colleague and brother — pointing at him — was accustomed to do. 
 •< No, my young friend," said the venerable man, << finish your sermon before 
 Saturday. Keep Saturday for a day of pleasant recreation, that you may p-i 
 fresh and vigorous to your pulpit on Sunday. To that you owe your best 
 duty; and how can you give it, jaded and worn by Saturday's and Saturday 
 Night's toil!" He then told us that, throughout his long and active, ministry 
 of forty years, he had never — no, not in a single instance, worked on his 
 sermon on Saturday. It was always the day of pleasantest and freest inter- 
 course with his friends. , 
 
 Greenwood was a man of the most refined and delicate taste. He had no 
 
176 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 extempore gift, nor did he attempt its acquisition. His preferences, like my 
 own, — largely, perhaps, the result of early habit and influences at King's 
 Chapel, — were for Liturgical worship in the Sanctuary. There was a singular 
 grace and charm both in his style of writing and of delivery. The first was 
 polished and yet simple, and the rhetoric perfect; while the same depth of 
 emotion, and tender and reverent devoutness of sentiment, which his words 
 evinced, characterized his manner. This, though generally quiet and sober, 
 was wondrously expressive and effective from its obvious earnestness and sin- 
 cerity. In the work of composition he often walked the room in thought, till 
 sentence after sentence took its exact form; and was then committed to paper 
 perfectly finished, with seldom the need of erasure or correction. Genial and 
 unconstrained in his home, full of fine humour and salient points in conversa- 
 tion, an ardent lover and master of the best literature, few men have I known 
 in the Christian ministrj r or in social life, who carried into their profession and 
 everywhere a holier or more consistent walk, than Francis William Pitt Green- 
 wood. I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Yours with great respect, 
 
 faithfully and fraternally, 
 
 FREDERICK A. PARLEY. 
 
 SAMUEL KENDAL, D. D* 
 
 1783—1814. 
 
 Samuel Kendal was a descendant of Francis Kendal, who migrated 
 early to this country, and settled in Woburn, Mass., and who is. believed 
 to be the common ancestor of all who bear the name of Kendal in New 
 England. He was a son of Elisha and Ruth Kendal, and was born in 
 Sherburne, Mass., on the 11th of July, 1753. His father was a blaek- 
 . smith ; and the son spent his early years at home, occasionally earning a 
 trifling sum by working for the farmers in the neighbourhood, and attend- 
 ing school a few weeks only in the winter. When he was about fourteen 
 or fifteen years of age, his father, in the hope of better providing for a 
 large family, moved to Annapolis, Nova Scotia. Here the son continued 
 to work on farms till he was nineteen years of age, when he had earned 
 enough to purchase of his father the remaining two years of his minority. 
 From early childhood he had formed the purpose of acquiring a collegiate 
 education, and becoming a minister of the Gospel. With this object 
 always before him, he surmounted obstacles that, to a less determined and 
 energetic spirit, would have been insuperable. He was so delighted with 
 the idea of returning to New England that he crossed the Bay of Fundy, 
 at great risk, with one other person, in a small boat, which he called an 
 egg-shell, and which he said they could carry ashore themselves. He went 
 immediately to his native town, and there prosecuted his studies prepara- 
 tory to entering College, under the instruction of the Eev. Elijah Brown, 
 supporting himself, meanwhile, by labouring, part of the time, on Mr. 
 Brown's farm. Just as he was prepared for College, he found himself 
 amidst the perils and struggles of the Revolution, and he felt constrained 
 to enter the army as a volunteer ; though, as a preliminary step, he went 
 
 * Ms. from his daughter, Mrs. Marshal]. — Columbian Centinel, 1814. 
 
SAMUEL KENDAL. 177 
 
 into the hospital and had the small pox. Owing to these various embar- 
 rassments and detentions, he did not enter College until he was twenty- 
 five years of age. As he was obliged to rely entirely on his own exer- 
 tions for the means of defraying his college expenses, he devoted all or 
 nearly all his vacations to teaching a school in Waltham, besides fitting 
 several young men for College, two or three of whom afterwards acquired 
 great distinction. By his uncommon industry and prudence, he not only 
 met all his current expenses, but was forty pounds richer when he left 
 College than when he entered. He was graduated in 1782, with an excel- 
 lent reputation as a scholar. 
 
 After his graduation, it is believed that he spent most of his time at 
 Cambridge, in the study of Theology, until he was licensed to preach, by 
 the Cambridge Association. He had scarcely commenced his public 
 labours before he received a call to settle over the Congregational Church 
 in Weston, as successor to the Kev. Samuel Woodward, who had died the 
 preceding year. He accepted the call, and was ordained on the 5th of 
 November, 1783, — the Rev. Dr. Willard, President of Harvard College, 
 preaching the Ordination Sermon. 
 
 Mr. Kendal, during the early period of his ministry, was visited with 
 sore trials. Before he had a home in Weston, his father returned from 
 Nova Scotia, being threatened with imprisonment for his refusal to take 
 the oath of allegiance to George III. He worked at his trade in Roxbury 
 until his son became a housekeeper, and was able to give him a home with 
 his own family. He left behind him in Nova Scotia six daughters, three 
 of whom were married ; and when they heard that their brother was set- 
 tled in Weston, and had a home for their father, the married sisters placed 
 the three girls who were unmarried on board a vessel for Boston ; and the 
 first he knew of their having left Nova Scotia was that they arrived at his 
 own door, in a state of entire destitution, having walked from Boston, — a 
 distance of twelve miles. By the assistance of some of his friends, he 
 quickly succeeded in furnishing them with the necessary supply of cloth- 
 ing, and providing them with homes, where they could earn a subsistence 
 and prepare themselves for usefulness. Scarcely had this perplexity been 
 surmounted, and the prospect of being able to support his family, and pay 
 off a debt necessarily incurred, begun to open upon him, when his house 
 took fire in the night, and was consumed, with nearly all its contents. 
 This happened on the 19th of February, 1791. His father was the first 
 person to discover the flames and waken the other members of the family. 
 A very deep snow had fallen a few days previous, and not a single neigh- 
 bour knew of the conflagration till just as the house and contents fell to- 
 gether into the cellar. Fortunately, Mr. Kendal had a small study near 
 his house, in which the family were able to find a shelter till daylight. 
 When the catastrophe came to be known, there was no lack of friends to 
 proffer their hospitalities to his family, and in due time the loss was in a 
 great measure made up to him, and a.new house built on the site of the 
 old one. 
 
 Mr. Kendal, more especially in the early part of his ministry, received a 
 considerable number of young men into his house to prepare them for Col- 
 lege ; — a measure which a very small salary rendered necessary to the 
 Vol. VIII. 12 
 
178 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 support of his family. But his time was devoted almost exclusively to his 
 professional duties. He was frequently called upon for public services 
 abroad, and it is believed never failed to meet the demands of the occasion. 
 In the year 1806, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon 
 him by Yale College, — an evidence that his character was known and 
 appreciated beyond the limits of his own State. 
 
 Dr. Kendal experienced very little interruption of his labours from 
 bodily indisposition. In an Historical Discourse that he delivered the 
 year previous to his death, he states that he had been detained from public 
 ■worship but one Sabbath, either by sickness or inclemency of weather, for 
 thirty years ; and that he had left the pulpit without a supply, on his own 
 private business, for two Sabbaths only, within that period. He continued 
 to supply his pulpit regularly until the Sabbath preceding his death. On 
 Tuesday, the 8th of February, 1814, he drove his own horse and chaise to 
 Boston, with a view to attend the Ordination of Mr. Edward Everett, as 
 Pastor of the Church in Brattle Square. Here he met two of his children, 
 and passed a night with each of them ; but seemed to bo suffering from a 
 severe cold. By his urgent request, they consented to pass the next Sab- 
 bath with him, but when they reached his house on Saturday, they found 
 him unable to leave it, and seriously threatened with typhus fever. They 
 had pressing engagements at home on Monday, and he advised them to 
 return, though, by this time, it was evident that his case had assumed an 
 alarming form. In the evening, he was so unable to help himself that a 
 kind neighbour was called in to assist him to bed, and to watch with him. 
 Without any apparent change, he breathed his last about six o'clock on 
 Tuesday morning, February 15th, in the sixty-first year of his age, and 
 the thirty-first of his ministry. The first intimation to the parish of his 
 being alarmingly ill, was the solemn tolling of the bell at sunrise. His 
 Funeral Sermon was preached by the Bev. Dr. Osgood of Medford. 
 
 He was married, not far from the time that he commenced his ministry, 
 to Mary Austin of Cambridge ; but this connection was terminated by her 
 death within two years. On the 12fh of October, 1786, he was married 
 to Abigail, the eldest daughter of his predecessor, the Bev. Samuel Wood- 
 ward. She became the mother of four children, the youngest of whom she 
 left an infant two hours old. In 1794, he married Miranda Woodward, 
 another daughter of his predecessor, who also became the mother of four 
 ehildren. She survived him seventeen years, and died in 1832. Dr. Ken- 
 dal's father survived him nine years, and had his home in the family till 
 his death, in 1824, when he lacked but a few days of ninety-nine years. 
 His youngest son, Henry Pay son, was graduated at Harvard in 1820 ; 
 was Preceptor of the Deerfield Academy several years, and afterwards a 
 teacher in the Latin School in Boston, till his failing health obliged him 
 to return to his mother's, where he died of consumption in 1832. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Kendal's publications: — 
 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Thaddeus Mason Harris, Dorchester, 
 1793. A Sermon on the Day of the National Thanksgiving, 1795. A 
 Sermon at the Ordination of Isaac Allen,* 1804. A Sermon at the Gren- 
 
 * Isaac Allen was born at Weston, October 31, 1770 ; was graduated at Harvard College 
 in 1798; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Bolton, Mass., March 14, 1804; 
 and died in 1844. 
 
SAMUEL KENDAL. 179 
 
 eral Election, 1804. A Sermon at the Ordination of Avery Williams,* 
 1807. A Sermon at the Interment of the Hon. Samuel Dexter, 1810. 
 Seven Sermons to Young People, published in the Christian Monitor, 1810. 
 A Sermon at the Ordination of Peter Nourse,t 1812. A Sermon deliv- 
 ered at Weston, on the Termination of a Century since the Incorporation 
 of the Town, 1813. A Sermon delivered at the Ordination of Isaac Huid,$ 
 1813. A Sermon on the Love of God, [date not ascertained.] 
 
 I have distinct recollections of Dr. Kendal, though they date hack to 
 my early youth. When I was about fifteen years old I spent a night and 
 part of two days at his house, and I thought him one of the most genial 
 and pleasant of men. His first appearance was altogether commanding and 
 impressive, but his fine social qualities very soon put me at my ease, and 
 I saw that he was doing his utmost to interest and gratify me. He knew 
 that I had just come from Cambridge, where I had seen President Kirk- 
 land ; and he said enough to show that his admiration of him scarcely had 
 a limit. It was evident too that he was specially devoted to Harvard Col- 
 lege, regarding it as furnishing the best advantages for the training of the 
 intellect to be found on this side of the Atlantic. He gave me, as I 
 was leaving him, the volume of the Christian Monitor, containing his 
 Seven Sermons to Young People, with his hand writing on the fly leaf; 
 and, though more than half a century has passed since, the book still stands 
 in my library, as a testimony of his good-will, and a specimen of his seri- 
 ous and earnest teaching. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JAMES KENDALL, D. D. 
 
 Plymouth, 20 March, 1856. 
 
 My dear Sir: Your very kind, and to an octogenarian, encouraging, com- 
 munication of the 17th inst. was duly received. No apology is necessary for 
 any inquiries you may ever have occasion to make of me; for I assure you 
 that our correspondence has been one of the pleasant circumstances of my old 
 age; and so long and so far as I am able, I shall be happy to answer any 
 inquiries concerning the venerable men of a past generation, which you may 
 have occasion to make. 
 
 Dr. Kendal (for he wrote his name with one I) was probably a relative of 
 mine, though we were never able to trace the relationship. The date of his 
 graduation at Cambridge was fourteen years anterior to mine; but I became 
 acquainted with him during my connection with College, and after I entered 
 the ministry my opportunities of intercourse with him were not unfrequent. 
 
 * Avert Williams, a son of the Rev. Henry Williams, was born in Guilford, Vt., in 1782 ; 
 was graduated at Dartmouth College in 1804; was ordained Pastor of the Congregational 
 Church in Lexington, Mass., December 30, 1807 ; resigned his charge, on account of ill health, 
 September 6, 1815 ; went to the South and died, according to one account, in Spartanburg, 
 S. C, and, according to another, in Fayetteville, N. C, February 4, 1816. He published 
 an Historical Discourse, delivered at Lexington, 1813. Henry Williams, the father, was 
 a native of Stonington, Conn. ; was ordained Pastor of the Congregational Church in Guil- 
 ford, Vt., October 28, 1778; was dismissed in 1783; was installed Pastor of the Church in 
 Leverett, Mass., November 10, 1784 ; and died November 27, 1811, aged sixty-six. He pub- 
 lished a Sermon, on Seeking the Lord, preached at Shutesbury, Mass., 1809. 
 
 t Peter Nottrse was a native of Boston; was graduated at Harvard College in 1802 : was' 
 ordained Pastor of the Church in Ellsworth, Me., September 9, 1812 ; was dismissed Novem- 
 ber 11, 1835 ; and died at Phillipsburgh, Me., March 25, 1840, afed sixty-five. 
 
380 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 I heard him preach several times in the earlier part of his ministry, and once 
 at a later period, — on the occasion of the General Election in Massachusetts, 
 under the administration, I believe, of Governor Strong, and while Mr. Jef- 
 ferson was President. It was about the time of the purchase of Louisiana; 
 and I well remember that the Doctor lifted up a voice of seven thunders in 
 protestation against the measure. Instead of strengthening the Union, he 
 believed it would prove only an element of weakness. We had already, he 
 believed, as many States, and as much territory as we could control or ren- 
 der available to us. I do not know what the good man would say if he were 
 among us now, with not only Louisiana, but Texas, and California, and Ore- 
 gon, and a part of Mexico, — to say nothing of the thirsting after Cuba and 
 the Sandwich Islands, &c. He might be reconciled to our having the control 
 of the Mississippi River; but I think that, without some very decided change 
 in his opinions, he would remonstrate against fitting out an expedition against 
 St. Domingo. 
 
 Dr. Kendal had a large, firmly built frame, was well proportioned, and had 
 a commanding and dignified presence. His mind was vigorous, comprehensive, 
 and well stored; but he was much more at home in the regions of sound com- 
 mon sense and practical thought than of philosophical speculation. His man- 
 ners were those of a gentleman of the old school, — bland and courteous, 
 without much of artificial polish. His whole life was an exhibition of the 
 most unbending integrity. The resolution of the Patriarch seemed to have 
 been his motto, — " Till I die, I will not remove my integrity from me; my 
 righteousness shall stand forth and I will not let it go; my heart shall not 
 reproach me so long as I live." 
 
 Of Dr. Kendal's religious opinions I can say little more than that he was 
 classed with those who are denominated "liberal," and was probably an Arian, 
 though I think he was little disposed either to converse or to preach on con- 
 troversial subjects. His manner in the pulpit was calm and impressive, and 
 his discourses were, I believe, always sensible, well digested, and edifying. 
 So far as I know, not the semblance of a spot rests upon his character. 
 Believe me, with great sincerity, 
 
 Tour affectionate friend and brother, 
 
 JAMES KENDALL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. A. LAMSOX, D. D. 
 
 Dedham, December 22, 1856. 
 My dear Sir: I fear that my juvenile reminiscences of Dr. Kendal will 
 prove to be of little interest or worth. He died while I was in College, and I 
 can only speak of him according to the immature judgment of a boy. Minis- 
 ters were then reverenced as they are not now, — reverenced as a sort of supe- 
 rior beings. We looked up to them, and hardly dared speak in their presence. 
 I regarded Dr. Kendal with a, sort of awe, and never thought of criticising 
 any of his performances. He possessed a remarkably vigorous intellect. He 
 was a clear-headed man, and always thought for himself; a man of decision 
 and energy. His appearance, voice, tone and manner, all carried authority 
 w T ith them. Yet he was far from what would be called a dogmatist. He 
 leasoned out his opinions, and held them firmly, but without one particle of 
 bigotry or uncharitableness. His services were plain, practical, earnest, and 
 fitted to make an impression that he felt that he was dealing in momentous 
 realities. I do not think that he ever preached a feeble sermon. He avoided, 
 according to my recollection, introducing into his pulpit discussions on sub- 
 jects of polemical theology. He was not, in any sense, » controversial 
 preacher. He belonged to the old school of liberal theologians of the days 
 
BEZALEEL HOWARD. 181 
 
 preceding the breaking out of the Unitarian controversy in 1815. Whether 
 he was a Unitarian, properly so called, I do not know. I never heard him 
 assert the doctrine of the Trinity in the pulpit or elsewhere. My impression 
 is that he confined himself mostly to scriptural expressions on that and other 
 points, called sometimes << points of doctrine." I only remember that, when 
 I went to Andover to complete my preparation for College, and heard Dr. 
 Griffin, Dr. Woods, and the students from the Theological Institution, preach, 
 and occasionally Professor Stuart, their views were absolutely new to me. I 
 had never heard any thing of the kind before, either from Dr. Kendal, or from 
 those who occupied his pulpit by exchange. My impression is that, as a gene- 
 ral rule, Dr. K. made few pastoral visits, though probably he did as much in 
 that way as the generality of clergymen of his day, — less, I think, than is 
 expected now. He visited the schools always at the closing winter examina- 
 tion, and, after consulting with other visitors, pronounced <i sort of verdict 
 on the appearance of the school, and made a short address. His opinions 
 were regarded with great deference on these as on all other occasions, and we 
 thought it a great thing to have his approbation. He was essentially kind in 
 all his intercourse with his parishioners, a whole-souled man, and devoted to 
 his work as a minister of the Gospel. He stood high among the clergy of his 
 day, and was always, in his own and the neighbouring pulpits, an acceptable 
 Preacher. 
 
 Such are my general impressions of Dr. Kendal. I am sensible that they 
 are of little value, — mere boyish recollections; but such as they are, they are 
 quite at your service. With great respect, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 A. LAMSON. 
 
 BEZALEEL HOWARD, D. D* 
 
 1783—1837. 
 
 Bezaleel Howard, a son of Nathan Howard, was born at Bridge- 
 water, Mass., on the 22d o/ November, 1753. His father was a large 
 farmer, and was earnestly desirous that this son should become a farmer 
 also, from a conviction that it was the safest business in which he could 
 engage. The son, on the contrary, from a very early age, had his heart set 
 upon a liberal education ; and at fifteen he taught a private school in his 
 native place. In accordance with his father's wishes, he continued to 
 labour on the farm till he was twenty-one, and then commenced his pre- 
 paration for College. His preparatory studies were conducted by a Mr. 
 Keed ; and so rapid was his progress that he had very soon passed those 
 who commenced sometime before him ; and in nine months he was ready 
 to enter at Harvard. He did enter there in 1777, and graduated in 1781. 
 He held a distinguished rank as a scholar, throughout his whole course, 
 having the advantage not only of an excellent mind, but a mind matured 
 by a greater number of years than most of his fellow-students in the Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Immediately after his graduation, he engaged in teaching a school in 
 Hingham, and, at the same time pursued a course of theological study 
 
 * Communications from himself and Mrs. Howard. 
 
182 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 under the direction of the venerable Dr. Gay. During his residence here, ho 
 was licensed to preach, and preached his first sermon in Dr. Gay's pulpit. 
 In 1783, two years after he graduated, he was appointed to a Tutorship at 
 Cambridge, and held the office until a short time previous to his settlement 
 in the ministry. During this period, he was accustomed, on the Sabbath, 
 to supply vacant pulpits in the neighbourhood, and to assist his brethren, 
 as they had occasion for his services. I distinctly remember to have heard 
 him speak of preaching for Dr. Chauncy, after he had become infirm, 
 and of visiting Dr. Mather Byles, a short time before his death, and being 
 greeted by him, as Dr. B. was accustomed to greet every body, with a pun. 
 
 It was during the latter part of his residence at Cambridge that he was 
 invited to preach as a candidate by the First Church and Society in Spring- 
 field, then vacant by the recent death of the Rev. Robert Breck. He con- 
 sented to preach for them during a college vacation, though he did it some- 
 what reluctantly, as he preferred to delay somewhat longer his settlement 
 in the ministry. His services were so acceptable that he was invited to 
 repeat his visit ; and, having complied with this request, and preached for 
 them a few additional Sabbaths, he received a call to become their Pastor. 
 The call was presented in November, 1784, but his Ordination did not take 
 place until the 27th of April, 1785. The Sermon on that occasion was 
 preached by the Rev. Timothy Hilliard, of Cambridge, and was published. 
 
 He continued his labours with general acceptance till September, 1803, 
 when a feeble state of health obliged him to retire from his active duties. 
 He took a severe cold, but preached on the next Sabbath, though with great 
 difficulty. On the Sabbath after that he preached again, and for the last 
 time ; for by that effort his vocal organs, so far as public speaking was con- 
 cerned, were ruined. After waiting about two years, in the hope that his 
 health might be restored, it was mutually agreed that the relation between 
 him and his people should be dissolved, whenever the parish should unite 
 in the settlement of another minister. Accordingly, the resignation of his 
 charge was read on the day of the Ordination of his successor, January 
 25, 1809, and the grateful and affectionate regards of his people followed 
 him to retired life. 
 
 In 1819, in consequence of some difficulties which existed in the First 
 Parish of Springfield, growing out of a difference of doctrinal views, a new 
 Unitarian Church was organized, and the Rev. W. B. 0. Peabody, in due 
 time, became its Pastor. With this church Mr. Howard associated him- 
 self, and continued in connection with it till the close of life. He has 
 repeatedly told me that, though he had always been an Arminian, yet, up 
 to that time, he had taken for granted the doctrine of the Supreme Divin- 
 ity of Jesus Christ ; that he was then led to a minute examination of all 
 passages of Scripture that relate to the subject, the result of which was a 
 conviction of the sole Supremacy of the Father. He, however, held to the 
 doctrine of atonement, in the sense of propitiation or expiation, with the 
 utmost tenacity ; and I have heard him say that he regarded the rejection 
 of it as the rejection of Christianity. His views of the character of the 
 Saviour were not perhaps very accurately defined ; he seemed to regard 
 Him as a sort of eternal emanation from Deity; — not a creature in the 
 strict sense, on the one hand, nor yet the Supreme God on the other. 
 
BEZALEEL HOWARD. 183 
 
 In 1824, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by 
 Harvard College. 
 
 From the period of his withdrawal from the active duties of his office, 
 he never had any fixed employment ; nor indeed would his health admit of 
 it. He spent a large part of his time in reading and meditation ; while he 
 was always ready with a cordial greeting for his friends, and, once at least 
 each day, when the weather would admit, he showed himself in the street, 
 and always had a word in season for whomsoever he might happen to 
 meet. I saw him frequently while I lived in his neighbourhood, and 
 occasionally after I changed my residence; but rarely, if ever, saw him, 
 when he did not breathe forth some expression of gratitude to his Supreme 
 Benefactor. In this state of mind he continued till death terminated his 
 earthly career. He sunk gradually under the infirmities of age, and died 
 on the 20th of January, 1837, aged eighty-three years. His Funeral 
 Sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Peabody. 
 
 Dr. Howard was twice married ; first within a few months after his set- 
 tlement, to Lucinda, daughter of Jonathan Dwight, one of the prominent 
 members of his congregation. She died after about two years, leaving a 
 daughter who was subsequently married to Samuel Orne, of Springfield, 
 but is now deceased. Dr. Howard related to me this circumstance, in 
 connection with the death of his first wife. She had been, for a considera- 
 ble time, manifestly sinking with consumption. During the early part of 
 the last night of her life, he remained with her, watching by her bedside, 
 but subsequently left her for a short time to get a little rest. The nurse 
 soon came to his door, bringing a request from Mrs. Howard that he would 
 come to her chamber without delay. On entering the room, he perceived 
 no change in her appearance ; but she instantly said to him, — " I am dying." 
 He assured her that it could not be so ; and added that there was nothing 
 more to indicate approaching death in her case than there had been for 
 several weeks. "But I am dying, notwithstanding," was her reply. "Why 
 do you think so?" — answered the anxious husband. " Because," said she, 
 "though I feel no pain, there is an indescribable sensation creeping over 
 me, which I am sure is death." Within less than an hour from that time, 
 she breathed her last. 
 
 After living a widower about two years, he was married to Prudence, 
 daughter of Ezekiel Williams, of Wethersfield, Conn. By this marriage 
 he had four children. Two of them died young ; another — John Howard, 
 of Springfield, died in 1849, greatly lamented by the community at large, 
 while a younger son still survives. Mrs. Howard, who was a highly intel- 
 ligent and benevolent lady, died on the 24th of March, 1853. 
 
 Dr. Howard published a Sermon delivered at the Ordination of Antipas 
 Steward.* 
 
 Some time after Dr. Howard's death, Mrs. Howard gave me several of 
 his latest original manuscripts, among which are two letters — it does not 
 appear to whom they were addressed — which put beyond all question 
 some of his views of Christian doctrine. As the names of the parties are 
 
 * Antipas Steward was born at Marlborough, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College 
 in 1760; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Congregational Church in Ludlow, Mass., 
 November 27, 1793; and died March 15, 1814, aged eighty. 
 
184 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 not given, it is presumed there can be no indelicacy in incorporating them 
 with this sketch. The first part of one of them was written by an amanu- 
 ensis, but it was corrected by Dr. Howard, and the latter part of it is his 
 own handwriting. The following are the letters referred to : — 
 
 "' You ask if the doctrine of vicarious rewards and punishments can be right; if it 
 can be just in God to inflict on an innocent being the punishment due to the offences 
 and crimes of the guilty. I should be ready to say it could not, unless it was done 
 by the voluntary consent of the innocent being who suffered, and for the accomplish- 
 ment of some important end. But what is just, or necessary, or consistent with the 
 Divine perfections, I do not know — I scarcely know how to govern a single family — 
 my wife thinks I sometimes err in that — but it is very evident that the doctrine of 
 vicarious suffering is clearly and fully stated in the word of God, and the thing itself 
 is exhibited in the constitution of our nature, and also in the dispensations of Divine 
 Providence. 
 
 " By the constitution of nature, children do suffer in a multitude of cases, from the 
 sins of their parents, and parents by the sins of their children — feeble and sickly con- 
 stitutions, incurable and fatal diseases, generated by the sins of parents, are trantmit- 
 ted to their children — riches and poverty, often acquired by the wickedness of parents, 
 are also transmitted to their children, — sometimes as a blessing, but more frequently 
 as a curse. And the same rule is observed in the dispensations of Providence to 
 nations. God does with nations as he does with individuals. When the individual 
 has filled up the measure of his iniquities he is cut off, and when a nation has filled up 
 its measure it is destroyed, and the sins of many generations are visited on the last, — 
 as Christ said to the Jews. ' Ye are the children of them which killed the prophets, 
 fill ye up the measure of your fathers that upon you may come all the righteous blood 
 shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel,' &.C. God granted the land 
 of Canaan to the posterity nf Abraham, but delayed giving possession for four hun- 
 dred years. Why? Because the iniquity of the Amorites was not yet full — but as 
 soon as it was full, he visited the iniquities of many generations on that one, which 
 had filled up the measure, and destroyed it. The whole history of nations, from the 
 nuod to this day, is filled with records of similar dispensations. Vicarious rewards 
 .uid punishments are as evidently a part of the Divine constitution as summer and 
 winter, seed-time and harvest, and this truth is as fully declared in the word of God 
 as any other doctrine contained in it. It is very clear from the Scripture that sin and 
 suffering and death came into the world by the disobedience of one man — ' as by one 
 man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one, many were 
 made righteous. By on°, man sin entered into the world and death by sin. and so death 
 passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.' It is very obvious that infants have not 
 sinned in their own persons, but it is very certain they do suffer and die, and not on 
 account of their own sins. Perhaps you may think it is not just that they should 
 suffer and die, in consequence of Adam's sin; but they do, for ' as in Adam all die, so 
 iu Christ shall all be made alive' — as they have suffered and died in consequence of 
 Adam's sin so they will rise and be happy in eousequence of Christ's sufferings." 
 
 " I have read your sermon on the Doctrines of Grace with some surprise and more 
 sorrow— I think the Doctrines of Natural Religion would have been a much more 
 suitable title. I could find nothing of the grace of our Lord Jesus in the sermon, and 
 less than nothing of that apostolical glorying in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 which ought to characterize every sermon on that subject. When I had finished the 
 sermon, the following thoughts seemed to press upon my mind: — If Jesus Christ was 
 wounded fur our transgressions, — if it did please the Lord to bruise Him, to put Him to 
 grief, and to lay on Him the iniquities of us all, — and if with his stripes we are healed, 
 — if lie did agonize in the garden of Gethsemane, — if He did endure the ignominy and 
 torture of the cross, — and if, in the perfection of the Divine government such unpar- 
 alleled sufferings were necessary to obtain pardon and salvation for us, and ensure it 
 to all who believe. — then is not the author of such a sermon guilty of deep, deep, deep 
 ingratitude to Him who loved us with a love stronger than death; and, when we were 
 enemies, gave his life a ransom for us V 
 
 FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 Syracuse, 25 September, 1860. 
 My dear Friend: When I was settled at West Suffield in 1792, Mr. How- 
 ard of Springfield became my neighbour, and I was in the habit of meeting 
 him frequently until my ministrj' closed there in 1809. I remember exchang- 
 ing pulpits with him once or twice, and often saw him in private at his own 
 
BEZALEEL HOWARD. 185 
 
 liouse and elsewhere; and our relations were always fraternal and agreeable. 
 About the time that I left Suffield, or perhaps a little earlier, he lost his voice 
 so that he was unable to preach, and I am not sure that I ever met him after- 
 wards. 
 
 Mr. Howard was a man of excellent common-sense, and great knowledge of 
 the world. His powers of conversation were remarkable. He talked very 
 calmly and quietly, and yet he talked so sensibly that he could hardly fail to 
 be listened to with pleasure and profit. Many of his remarks would be very 
 quaint, but as you came to reflect upon them, you would find that they were 
 full of meaning, and sometimes very weighty meaning too. And the same 
 chaiacteristic belonged to his preaching: his sermons were so simple that a 
 child eight years old could comprehend them; but there would sometimes be 
 condensed into one of those simple sentences an amount of sober, practical 
 thought, which it would take the oldest and wisest man in his congregation a 
 good while to digest. I believe his sermons always contained some striking 
 thoughts or expressions that were pretty sure to make a lodgement in the 
 memories of his hearers. When I knew him, he was understood to be an 
 Arminian; but it was not till some years after that he became a Unitarian. I 
 think he could never be called a doctrinal preacher — though I doubt not that 
 the doctrine of salvation through the atonement of Christ was often distinctly 
 presented in his discourses. I think it was the testimony of his stated hear- 
 ers that his sermons were chiefly practical in the sense of treating of Chris- 
 tian duty. 
 
 Dr. Howard was, I believe, always, from his first settlement in Springfield, 
 on the most intimate terms with Dr. Lathrop, who was his nearest ministe- 
 rial neighbour, though I have heard it said that he dissented strongly from 
 Dr. Lathrop's Sermon on the doctrine of Election, in his volume on the Ephe- 
 sians. On a certain occasion, when the two were together, they agreed both to 
 write upon the same text — " He that tilleth his land shall have plenty of bread, 
 but he that followeth after vain persons shall have poverty enough." At 
 their next meeting, Dr. Howard asked Dr. Lathrop how he got along with his 
 text. " Not very well," said the Doctor, " but I took onlj' the latter part of 
 the verse." << It was natural enough," said Dr. H-, " that you should make 
 a poor sermon in writing about poverty, but I took the first part of the verse, 
 that treated of plenty, and got along very well with it." I am reminded by 
 this of a piece of Dr. Lathrop's wit, which bore rather hard upon his people, 
 though, as it was a bygone generation, I suppose I may venture to state it. 
 As I was once riding with him by the old church on the common, which was, 
 at that time, one of the most ancient and curious pieces of architecture in New 
 England, I remarked to him playfully that it looked very much like a distillery. 
 " If it were a distillery," said he, " I am afraid it would be much better 
 attended than it is now." 
 
 I will only add that Mr. Howard was always hospitable and friendly, and 
 enjoyed the confidence and affection even of those whose standard of Chris- 
 tian doctrine some would have thought much higher than his own. I have 
 heard that the closing part of his life was eminently peaceful. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 EROM THE REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, D. D. 
 
 Deerfield, January 7, 1850. 
 Dear Sir: My personal acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Howard was lim 
 ited to the twenty-five years beginning in 1808, and ending in 1833. What he 
 was, and did, and experienced, in his earlier and his later j'ears, I shall, there- 
 fore, leave to the testimony of those who have better means of information 
 
186 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 than I can pretend to. During the period mentioned above, I visited Spring- 
 field ten or eleven times.; and, in some instances, passed two or three days 
 there, and several times lodged at his house; but such were his domestic 
 habits, that I never met him in any other place than Springfield. There are 
 few incidents in the latter part of his life to furnish materials for narration, 
 and I shall do little more than to give my general views of his character. 
 
 In his outward person, Dr. Howard was above the middle stature, and 
 might, I think, be called a large man; and the strength and compass of his 
 mind appeared to me still more above what are common. From incidental 
 remarks and criticisms, I should think probable that, in his collegiate course, 
 he had been distinguished for his scientific attainments; that he had main- 
 tained an honourable competition with such classmates as John Davis, Sam- 
 uel Dexter, and Elijah Paine; and that, in later years, he had continued 
 to pay more or less attention to philosophical subjects. This, however, is 
 nothing more than a probable inference drawn from the critical remarks he 
 sometimes made, and the strong and comprehensive grasp with which he took 
 hold of the more solid subjects to which he directed his attention. 
 
 Some of the most prominent characteristics of Dr. Howard were, I think, 
 thoughtfulness, sensibility, sincerity and frankness. That he was habitually 
 thoughtful or contemplative, I suppose no one who was much acquainted with 
 him could ever doubt. As little can it be questioned that he thought to a 
 good purpose. The high relation between man and his Maker, and the duties 
 resulting from that relation, were his favourite themes of thought and con- 
 versation. He was eminently a moralist, a Christian moralist, a moralist in 
 the deep and broad significance of the word. On this subject he had a pecul- 
 iar faculty of deriving instruction from almost every thing he saw or heard, 
 from every thing visible and invisible, through the widest range the human 
 mind is allowed to traverse; and this faculty was exercised in this way till 
 it became one of the principal habits of his life. 
 
 Another of his characteristics, as I have said above, was sensibility. His 
 heart appeared to be deeply affected by the solemn and sublime truths on 
 which his mind was so much employed. "While he mused, the fire burned," 
 not with transient flashes, but with a permanent warmth, which prepared 
 him for every duty toward God and man. It is generally supposed that old 
 men feel less than those who are young, although they may be more undevia- 
 ting in the discharge of every duty than those who are in the meridian or 
 earlier stages of life. Dr. Howard, however, seemed to be an exception to the 
 common rule. In his old age, the public services of religion, which were of 
 such a nature as to affect the young, wrought as powerfully on his sensibilities 
 as they did on those of persons much younger, though perhaps in a more calm 
 and silent manner. 
 
 Sincerity was mentioned above, as another characteristic of Dr. Howard. 
 He gave the most satisfactory evidence that he believed what he professed to 
 believe, and felt all that he appeared to feel. Like Nathaniel, he was an "Is- 
 raelite indeed, in whom there was no guile." Everybody knew that with him, 
 yea meant yea, and nay, nay, without equivocation or reserve. 
 
 To specify no more, another striking characteristic was frankness. "Out 
 of the abundance of the heart the mo'uth speaketh." He was too much 
 impressed with the importance of religious truth and duty, to keep his 
 thoughts and feelings to himself, when there was a fair opportunity, by giv- 
 ing them utterance, to promote the cause which ever lay near his heart. 
 With the old and the young, with friends and strangers, , he was ready to 
 express his approbation of what was good, and to express his dissent from 
 what appeared to him evil, and, if needful, to remonstrate against it. At 
 ihe same time, his commendation was not flattery, nor his expostulation, in- 
 
BEZALEEL HOWARD. 187 
 
 vective or reproach. An instance may illustrate his manner. In the latter part 
 of his life, he met a stranger in the market, who was stating, with much 
 apparent satisfaction, the success he had had in some of his worldly inte- 
 rests, when Dr. Howard addressed him in the following words, or something 
 of the like import — "You appear, Sir, to he prosperous in your temporal 
 affairs — are your spiritual interests equally so ?" The gentleman, in appar- 
 ently good humour, replied — " That is a thing which ought to be thought of." 
 
 The characteristics named ahove, and others which might be mentioned, 
 gave to the conversation of Dr. Howard a solidity and moral effect which is 
 rarely to he met with. Indeed, were I to name three persons among all those 
 with whom I have ever been acquainted, who excelled all others in edifying 
 conversation, Dr. Howard would be one of the three, and the other two would 
 be Dr. Lathrop, of West Springfield, and Dr. William E. Channing. 
 
 In religious speculation, Dr. Howard professed himself a Trinitarian till 
 about the year 1819, when, by existing circumstances, he was led to re-exam- 
 ine the subject by a careful .perusal of the New Testament with reference to 
 this single point. The result was a change of faith, but not so great a change 
 as often takes place in similar circumstances. On religious subjects he wau 
 generally conservative. To the day of his death, I presume, he held fast the 
 doctrine of atonement in a sense which many would regard as Calvinistic; 
 and on some other points, his views, I suppose, were such as would harmo- 
 nize as well with those of the orthodox as with those of most Unitarians; but 
 whatever stress he might lay on mere speculative points, the spirit and prac- 
 tice of Christianity were far more dear to his soul. 
 
 Yours, with much respect and esteem, 
 
 SAMUEL WILLARD. 
 
 FROM MISS MARGARET T. EMERY. 
 
 Haktfokd, October 21, 1862. 
 My dear Friend:' I will endeavour, agreeably to your request, to note down 
 a few recollections of our lamented friend Dr. Howard — but oh! how the 
 images on the stream of time fade away, as we draw near the great ocean of 
 eternity! It is now almost half a century since I, then in the dew of my 
 youth, first became acquainted with that venerable man. I remember him as 
 a tall, stooping, spare figure, with a large head, and a face naturally grave, 
 but easily taking on a most kindly and cheerful smile. He seemed so unworldly, 
 so patriarchal, that I almost felt that I had gone back a century in the world's 
 age. At the dinner table, he and his wife sat side by side, — her face bearing 
 the remains of great beauty — one charm she retained to the last, — her soft, 
 hazel, dove-like eye. Their children were all around the table, with the ex- 
 ception of a lovely daughter, who died in the bloom of youth a few years 
 earlier. I was much struck with his style of conversation; and, though many 
 might have thought it too much like preaching, it showed how much he felt 
 the responsibility of speech, and how careful he was to redeem time. His 
 way of introducing Scripture, in connection with the business of common life, 
 was very peculiar. For instance, as he saw one suffering under the infliction 
 of a dull knife, he said, — " If the iron* be blunt, and he do not whet the edge, 
 then must he put to more strength." And again, to some one who observed, 
 on a cloudy day, that it was breaking away at the North, he said, — " Fair 
 weather cometh out of the North," &c. He loved cheerfulness, and used to 
 say that a hearty laugh was the best medicine in the world; and he greatly 
 enjoyed " the wit that loved to play, not wound." But it must be confessed 
 that there was something a little brusque in his manners at times, and he 
 rather liked to hit hard blows then. How he bore retaliation, I suspect no 
 
188 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 one had an opportunity of knowing, — so great was the reverence in which he 
 was held. 
 
 Soon after Mr. Howard's settlement, he was married to a daughter of Jon- 
 athan Dwight, Esq., one of the fathers of the town. In those early days Mr. 
 Howard ventured the opinion, in the presence of his father-in-law, that there 
 might yet be a bridge built over Connecticut River, then crossed by -i ferry 
 boat. " He must be a very young man indeed who expects to see that," was 
 Mr. Dwight's reply. Yet he lived to see one or two bridges run down the 
 stream before the present one was built. Dr. Howard's wife was lovely in 
 mind and person, but she did not survive her marriage much more than two 
 years. She left a daughter, remembered still as exercising a, most attractive 
 hospitality, and as being most tenderly thoughtful of the poor and suffering. 
 Dr. H. declared that, after the death of his wife, all nature seemed to him cov- 
 ered with a black veil. Four years after her death he was married to the sister 
 of Judge Williams of Hartford; and one of the most charming traits in the char- 
 acter of his daughter, by the first marriage, was her filial devotion to this 
 second mother, whose excellences so well entitled her to it. She (the mother) 
 was a most gentle being, of very calm exterior, seeming to live in a world of 
 her own, and almost unfit to cope with the harsher world without. But her 
 husband had a remarkable business faculty, which nothing escaped; and this 
 attention to the smallest matters did not seem undignified in him. He was very 
 skilful and exact in pecuniary matters; and, while careful to do justly, he 
 showed that he loved mercy. His purse, house and heart were always open 
 to the need)'; but his charity was exercised with so much caution and discrimi- 
 nation that I doubt if he was ever imposed upon. He lived so plainly that 
 those most disposed to fault finding could never accuse him of extravagance 
 in respect to either food or clothing. And do you remember the primitive fur- 
 niture — the chairs that seemed to enforce the lesson that we are not to look 
 for rest on earth; the bookcase, with those odd engravings behind the glass 
 doors, setting forth female industry in all its varieties; and that light of other 
 da}'s, — the great wood-fire? And do you not remember the beautiful stair- 
 way, so suggestive of easy, undulatory, upward motion? The house was a 
 sort of halting place for wayfarers. A woman once stopped there who had 
 walked ten miles to see a man hung in Springfield. "You have walked a great 
 way," said Dr. Howard. "Yes, Sir, it does seem to be a making a tile (toil) 
 of a pleasure," was the answer. A couple came there to be married. Dr. H. 
 said to the bridegroom, — "Where is the place of your nativity?" "Well, 
 it's sometimes Long Meadow, and sometimes Wilbraham, but now I think it 
 will be Springfield." 
 
 He showed a fatherly care for all under his roof, and was anxious that the 
 servants should spend their wages in the manner most advantageous to them. 
 They were always required to be present at family worship, and he was care- 
 ful to have them understand what they read and heard. I heard him say, a 
 few years before he died, that he had read the Bible through twenty-eight 
 times in family worship, and that he had found something new in it every time. 
 He had no patience with carelessly prepared sermons. He maintained that 
 we should always bring beaten oil to tbje sanctuary; but no matter how able 
 a sermon might be, he regarded it as radically defective if it had nothing of 
 Christ in it. His eyesight had become very imperfect several years before I 
 knew him, so that it was difficult for him to read; but he loved to have the 
 young people of the family, some of whom were orphans committed to his 
 charge, read to him. The reading was always rendered instructive, not only 
 by a judicious choice of books, but by the very pertinent and often impressive 
 commentary that he would make upon what was read. When these had passed 
 
BEZALEEL HOWARD. 189 
 
 away to homes of their own, there were always some who felt it a great pri- 
 vilege to supply their place. 
 
 Of the change which Dr. Howard's religious views underwent in his latter 
 years, on the doctrine of the Trinity, you are of course apprized, though 
 I am inclined to think that his opinions on the subject did not become very 
 definite, and that he was rather disposed to rest in the idea that << Christ 
 had a name written that no man knew but Himself." While his mind was 
 3 r et in an inquiring state on this subject, he and some of his brother clergy- 
 men were discussing it on some occasion when they had met. " Now," said 
 Dr. Howard, suppose that, in the day of judgment, they should be found to 
 be right and. we in the wrong — " "We should be confounded," said one of 
 the number, bringing his hand heavily upon the table. "Yes," said Dr. How- 
 aid, " but we should not be condemned." 
 
 Once, when conversing upon the future state of the Heathen, he said, with 
 a look of the deepest solemnity, — " I am far more anxious about the state of 
 the nominally Christian world than of the Heathen." He then mentioned 
 that, many years ago, an avowed infidel lay on his death-bed, in Springfield; 
 and, being surrounded with persons who were anxious to bring him to a bet- 
 ter state of mind, the dying man broke out in this fearful expression, — " I do 
 not believe one single word you say — if you thought your religion was true, 
 you would live very differently." 
 
 I remember his speaking in terms of great admiration of Dr. Mason of New 
 York, — a bright light in his day. They had met and enjoyed their meeting, 
 and Dr. Mason had given him a very urgent invitation to visit him in New 
 York. It so happened that the next time he went to that city, he did not arrive 
 until Saturday evening, — too late to report himself to the Doctor before the 
 Sabbath. On going to his church the next day, he perceived that it was the 
 day of their Communion. On his expressing a wish to one of the officers of 
 the church to unite with them, he was told he could not do so, according to 
 their rules, unless he could show his certificate of church-membership. Not 
 expecting any emergency of this kind, he had, of course, no such document 
 with him; and, going into the gallery, he prepared himself to commune with 
 them, at least in spirit. But Dr. Mason's quick eye soon discovered his old 
 friend, and he beckoned him down to join in their service. Dr. Howard 
 spoke with the greatest admiration of the pertinence, solemnity and majesty 
 of the whole exercise — his prayers, he said, were characterized by the great- 
 est fervour and power, without the least repetition. 
 
 As time went on, Dr. Howard seemed more visibly preparing for eternity. 
 He conversed less, and evidently thought less, about the things that are seen 
 and are temporal. He was very fond of Astronomy; and it was a favourite 
 idea with him that the centre around which the Solar System revolves might 
 be the throne of God. He talked more and more of departed friends, and 
 observed that, when he dreamed of them, they appeared to him with more 
 beauty and dignity than when they were on earth. He often spoke of a dream 
 he had concerning her whose loss so overshadowed his early life. He thought 
 he had been preaching in the country, — that he had closed the services and 
 was descending the pulpit stairs, when he recognized this beloved wife in the 
 congregation. He sprang forward to meet her, conscious that she was no Ion. 
 ger an inhabitant of this world, and eagerly asked, — "Are you happy?' 
 " Yes," said she, "but not so happy as I shall be." "But are you not 
 happier than you were on earth?" "Oh yes, but it is very different from 
 what you and I thought it was, when we used to talk about it." He greatly 
 enjoyed Mrs. Fletcher's remarkable " Essay upon Communion with Happy 
 Spirits," contained in her Life. "I have had," he said, " no more doubt 
 that we shall know one another hereafter, than of my own existence; but I 
 
190 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 could not have thought there could be so many arguments for it, brought, 
 from both Reason and Scripture, as that woman has produced." Nor was he 
 less gratified by the succinct argument of an old Welsh minister, who, when 
 his wife asked him, — << John Evans, dost thou think we shall know each other 
 in the next world?" — answered, — " To be sure, do you think we shall be 
 greater fools there than we are here?" 
 
 A few years before Dr. Howard's death he had a sudden attack of illness, 
 which, it was feared, would prove fatal. It was beautiful to see the almost 
 joyous manner of his wife on his recovery — his daughter-in-law remarked 
 that she really seemed like a young bride — the lapse of years had evidently 
 had the effect to bring them more fully into the Christian unity of marriage. 
 He regarded this illness as a warning to be " ever standing on his guard, 
 watching unto prayer." So when the mighty messenger came, he was found 
 ready to meet the summons. I was ill at the time of his last sickness, and it 
 was a. grief to me that I could not at least touch the mantle of the departing 
 saint. From the nature of his malady, he was not able to say much; but I 
 heard that he said, referring to the most trying circumstances of his illness, — 
 " Be thankful that you can breathe and speak without pain." Some time be- 
 fore, when conversing with a friend who was speaking of the desirableness of an 
 easy death, and whether this were not a fitting subject for prayer, he seemed 
 to think that he should leave all with God. It was answered that we were 
 allowed to pray for earthly comforts with submission. I never knew whether 
 this opinion of his remained unchanged. However, the suffering was over a 
 little before death, and the actual departure was so peaceful that Mrs. How- 
 ard was not aware of it till Mr. Peabody said, — << Shall we pray?" 
 
 She lived quietly on in the room so long consecrated by prayers and pious 
 conversation, withdrawing more and more from a world she never cared to 
 mingle with. She found her chief solace in the Bible, in holy hymns, prayers 
 and alms; for, like her husband, she was a ready and cheerful giver. There 
 was something about her that might have seemed cold to those who did not 
 look beneath the surface. When her only daughter died, one of those persons 
 thought that she bore the trial very well, — perhaps a little too well to con- 
 sist with strong maternal affection. But when one who knew her well, entered 
 the room of sorrow, she stretched out her arms to her, and burst into tears, 
 crying out, — " Is this submission?" A few years after Margaret died, they 
 lost a son, — the Benjamin of the family, in the flower of his age. When the 
 bereaved mother was told that she had other children, she said it seemed like 
 a new idea to her. Only one son survived her. Death came to her in the 
 gentlest form. She had a severe cold, but they scarcely considered her in a 
 dangerous condition. Her son was in the room with her, and his daughters 
 too, who watched her with the tenderest care. Though her life had been so 
 long a preparation for death, she had never lost her dread of the last conflict. 
 But in its near approach she had no terror; for she passed away in a gentle 
 slumber; and so " God gave his beloved sleep.-" 
 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 MARGARET T. EMERY. 
 
NOAH WORCESTER. 191 
 
 NOAH WORCESTER, D. D * 
 
 1786—1837. 
 
 Noah Worcester was born at Hollis, N. H., November 25,1758. He 
 was a son of Noah Worcester, a man of an active and energetic mind, and 
 one of the framers of the Constitution of the State of New Hampshire. 
 His paternal grandfather was the Rev. Francis Worcester, who was, for 
 some time, Pastor of a Church in Sandwich, Mass., and who died in Hollis 
 in 1783. The Rev. Francis Worcester was the great-grandson of the Rev. 
 William Worcester, who came from Salisbury in England, and w.as the first 
 minister of the Church in Salisbury, Mass., which was organized in 1638. 
 
 Noah Worcester exhibited evidences of remarkable conscientiousness 
 from his earliest years. From the age of twelve, he was accustomed, in 
 the absence of his father, to conduct the morning and evening worship of 
 the family. From his childhood he evinced a great fondness for reading, 
 and his proficiency in the different elementary branches which he was taught 
 at school, witnessed to both his strong thirst for knowledge and the faith- 
 ful improvement of his limited advantages. His opportunities for going 
 to school ceased altogether in the winter of 177-1—75, when he was but 
 sixteen years old. 
 
 In the spring of 1775, when the War of the Revolution begun, he joined 
 the army as a fifer, and continued in the service about eleven months. He 
 was at the Battle of Bunker Hill, where he narrowly escaped being taken 
 prisoner. In the campaign of 1777, he was in the army again for two 
 months, acting as Fife-Major ; and, during this period, it was his fortune to 
 be in the battle of Bennington. Part of the interval between his two periods 
 of military service he spent in the family of his uncle, Francis Worcester, 
 at Plymouth, whither he had gone with a view to engage in the manufac- 
 ture of 'maple sugar. At this time, he became attached and engaged to 
 his uncle's step-daughter, Hannah Brown, a fine girl of sixteen, who was 
 everyway suited to render him happy in the matrimonial connection. Here, 
 too, during the winter of 1776-77, he first engaged in teaching a school ; 
 and, though he had had only the most meagre opportunities for qualifying 
 himself for such an employment, his services gave great satisfaction, and he 
 continued to be thus occupied during nine successive winters. All this 
 time he was himself a diligent student, though his means for acquiring 
 knowledge were very stinted, as may be inferred from the fact that, during 
 the first summer he passed at' Plymouth, he used birch bark to write upon 
 instead of paper, and until then had never had the privilege of looking 
 into a Dictionary. 
 
 In September, 1778, he purchased of his father what remained of his 
 minority, and removed to Plymouth with the expectation of spend- 
 ing his life in farming, except so far as he might be engaged as a 
 teacher. Here he was married, the next year, on the day that he reached 
 the age of twenty-one. In February, 1782, he rempved from Plymouth 
 
 * Memoir by Dr. Henry Ware, jr. — American Almanac, 1849. — Ms. from his nephew,— 
 Dr. Samuel M. Worcester. 
 
192 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 to Thornton, a small town a few miles distant. His religious views and 
 feelings now became more decided, and, in August following, both himself 
 and his wife became members of the Congregational church, under the 
 pastoral care of the Rev. Experience Estabrook.* 
 
 From this time he accustomed himself to a course of rigorous mental 
 discipline, especially in writing dissertations on various theological ques- 
 tions that were presented to his consideration. In order to this, he was 
 obliged to practise the most rigid economy in respect to time ; for lie had 
 ». growing family to provide for, who were entirely dependent upon his 
 labour. At this period he worked considerably at the business of shoe- 
 making ; but even when he was thus engaged, he always had his pen and 
 ink at hand to note down every bright thought that occurred to him. 
 
 In the year 1785, he addressed a, Letter, through the press, to the Kev. 
 John Murray, in reference to a Sermon which the latter had published on 
 the " Origin of Evil." This brought him considerably into notice, and 
 prepared the way for his being introduced into the ministry. The Rev. 
 Selden Church,! a respectable minister of the neighbouring town of Camp- 
 ton, holding the views of the Hopkinsian school, first proposed to him to 
 become a Preacher of the Gospel. This led him to converse with other 
 ministers and friends on the subject, and the result was that he actually 
 offered himself for examination by the Association within whose bounds 
 he resided, and they readily gave him a license to preach. This was in 
 the year 1786. He preached his first sermon at Boscawen, N. H. 
 
 Mr. Worcester's preaching was, from the beginning, highly acceptable ; 
 and the Eev. Mr. Estabrook, of Thornton, being desirous to resign his pas- 
 toral charge, recommended him as a suitable person to become his successor. 
 Mr. "Worcester, having spent the subsequent winter in teaching school, 
 preached at Thornton, as a candidate, for several months, in the spring and 
 summer, and, on the 18th of October following, was ordained and installed 
 Pastor of that church. He had lived in the town five years and a half, 
 during which time he had been Schoolmaster, Select-man, Town-clerk, Jus- 
 tice of the peace, and Representative to the General Court, and the people 
 were now glad to welcome him in the yet more important relation of a 
 Minister of the Gospel. His salary being but two hundred dollars, and 
 the whole of that being rarely, if ever, paid, he was obliged to resort to 
 other means for the support of his family ; and he made up the deficiency, 
 partly by labouring on his farm, and partly by making shoes. He, also, 
 in cases in which the provision for the winter school failed, performed 
 gratuitously the service of a teacher to the children in his neighbourhood. 
 
 In November, 1797, he met with a severe affliction in the death of his wife, 
 under peculiarly trying circumstances. Her death was occasioned by her 
 falling from a horse on Thanksgiving Day. The afflicted husband preached 
 to his people on the next Sabbath, from ii Cor. i, 3, 4 ; and he remarked, 
 after he was far advanced in life, that he never witnessed a more solemn 
 
 * Experience Estabrook was born in Rehoboth, Mass. ; was graduated at Dartmouth 
 College in 1770; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Thornton, August 10, 
 1780; was dismissed October 18, 1787; was installed at Plainfield, N. H. shortly after; was 
 dismissed May 9, 1792; and died in Thornton in 1810. 
 
 t Selden Church was a native of East Haddam, Conn. ; was graduated at Tale College 
 in 1765; was settled as Pastor of the Church in Campton, N. H. in October 1774; was dis- 
 missed in 1792 ; and died in 1802. 
 
NOAH WORCESTER. 193 
 
 assembly than on that occasion. Mrs. "Worcester had the reputation of 
 possessing uncommonly fine intellectual, as well as moral and Christian, 
 qualities. 
 
 Mr. Worcester being left in charge of a large family of children under 
 circumstances of peculiar embarrassment, many of his friends, and among 
 them the sisters of his deceased wife, advised him to form a second matri- 
 monial relation, without any unnecessary delay ; and, accordingly, on the 
 22d of May, 1798, he was married to Hannah Huntington, a native of Nor- 
 wich, Connecticut, then residing in Hanover, N. H. This estimable lady 
 contributed greatly to his own happiness and the welfare of his family, and 
 died about five years before him. 
 
 In 1802, when the New Hampshire Missionary Society was forced, Mr. 
 Worcester was employed as its first missionary; and, in that character, he 
 travelled and preached extensively in the Northern part of New Hampshire, 
 during the autumn of that year and the summer of 1804. 
 
 In the latter part of the year 1806, he met with a serious accident, — 
 the partial rupture of the muscles from the tendons of his legs. In conse- 
 quence of this, he was obliged, for many months, to forego all exercise ; 
 and this brought on dropsical tendencies which did not leave him for sev- 
 eral years. Indeed, he never recovered his muscular power, but was 
 always, after this, oppressed, in no inconsiderable degree, with bodily infir- 
 mity. He had naturally a very vigorous constitution, and, up to this time, 
 nothing had occurred to impair it. 
 
 In the autumn of 1809, he received an invitation from Salisbury to 
 remove thither, and take charge, for a season, of the congregation of which 
 his brother Thomas* was Pastor, though then disabled for active labour by 
 
 * Thomas Worcester, a son of Noah "Worcester, was born at Hollis, N. H., November 22, 
 1768. His native endowments were of a high order. Without means of defraying the expense 
 of a collegiate education, and being twenty or more years of age when he became decided in 
 his purpose to preach the Gospel, if God should permit, he pursued a course of studies* 
 literary and theological, under the direction more particularly of the Hev. Daniel Emerson, 
 of his native town. He was ordained, and installed as Pastor of the Congregational Church 
 in Salisbury, N. H., November 9, 1791. Strong objections were made to his Ordination by 
 members of the Council, chiefly on the ground that he had not received a liberal education. 
 The father of Daniel Webster, after much delay of proceedings, addressed the Council in a 
 speech of great power, in which he said, — "Mr. Moderator, We chose this young man, Sir, 
 to be our minister. We are satisfied with him. We feel competent to choose for ourselves. 
 We invited this Council, Sir, to ordain him. Eut if you don't see fit to do it,'' — he added 
 with determined emphasis, — " we shall call a Council that will." Mr. Worcester had " a 
 mind to work," and he made himself a really distinguished clergyman among those who 
 would not lay hands suddenly, if at all, upon the head of any man who bad not received a 
 college diploma. He was highly gifted with powers of natural eloquence. He adopted the 
 views of his brother Noah, as presented in the " Bible News." On this account, and also 
 from the failure of his health, ho was dismissed by a Mutual Council, April 21, 1S23, and 
 ever afterwards remained without a pastoral charge. He died December 24, 1831. He 
 received the Honorary Degree of Master of Arts, from Dartmouth College in lbllG. The fol- 
 lowing is a list of his publications: — A Thanksgiving Sermon, delivered at Salisbury, 1795. 
 The Solemnity of Marriage illustrated, in a Sermon from John ii, 1, 1798. An Oration on 
 the Anniversary of American Independence, 1798. A Sermon at the Ordination of Moses 
 Sawyer [who was born in Salisbury, N. H., in 1776 ; was graduated at Dartmouth College in 
 1799; was ordained, and installed as Pastor of the church in Henniker, N. II., May 26, 1802; 
 was dismissed March 29, 1826; was installed as Pastor of the Second Church in Scarborough, 
 Mo., September 18, 1828; was dismissed April 21, 1830; and died in 1847.] Little Chil- 
 dren of the Kingdom of Heaven only by the Blessing of Christ : A Sermon, 1803. Two Ser- 
 mons on the Government and Religious Education of Children, 1801. A Sermon entitled 
 *' The Fifth Commandment illustrated and enforced," — . Our Saviour's Divinity in Primi- 
 tive Purity: A Sermon on the Divine Glory of Christ, 1810. A Discourse on the Testimony 
 by which the' Son of God honoured his Father, and for which He endured the Cross, 1810. A 
 Sermon on the Divine Sonship of Christ, as the Fundamental Article of Christian Faith, 
 1810. A Concise View of the Glory of Christ, wholly in numerous interwoven quotations 
 
 Vol. VIII. 13 
 
194 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ill health. He thought it his duty, particularly in consideration of the 
 inadequacy of his support, to accept this invitation ; and his people, who 
 were strongly attached to him, reluctantly consented to it ; though, by 
 their request, he still retained his connection with the church, not without 
 some expectation, on both sides, that he might return to them again. Pie, 
 accordingly, removed to Salisbury, in February, 1810, and continued there, 
 as his brother's assistant, or substitute, for about three years. 
 
 At the time of his removal to Salisbury, he was engaged in the publica- 
 tion of a work on the Doctrine of the Trinity, to which he had devoted 
 much thought and study for several years, and which was destined to bring 
 him into new associations, and, in a great measure, change the complexion 
 of his life : this was the celebrated work entitled " Bible News of the 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." This work, as soon as it appeared, pro- 
 duced a strong sensation, not only in Mr. Worcester's immediate circle, 
 but in almost every part of New England ; and it soon became the subject 
 of severe animadversion and of earnest controversy. The Hopkinton 
 Association, of which he was a member, passed a formal sentence of con- 
 demnation against the book; and in November following, (1810,) was 
 published "An Address to the Churches in connection with the General 
 Association of New Hampshire, on the subject of the Trinity." He evi- 
 dently expected that his views, when made public, would be met with 
 more tolerance, especially as he had communicated them to many of his 
 brethren in private, whose relations with him had nevertheless continued 
 as intimate as ever. He published several pamphlets about this time, 
 designed rather to expose what he deemed the unreasonable opposition that 
 was made to him, than to vindicate directly his peculiar theological views. 
 
 The attitude thus taken by Mr. Worcester not only attracted the attention, 
 but awakened the sympathy, particularly of a number of the more promi- 
 nent ministers of Boston ; and a plan was quickly set on foot for bringing 
 him to reside in their neighbourhood. It was resolved to establish a new 
 .work, to be called " The Christian Disciple ;" and Mr. Worcester was invited 
 to become its editor. Being satisfied that he had but little reason to expect 
 employment as a preacher in New Hampshire, and his brother, whose place 
 he had taken, having the prospect of being able to resume his labours, he 
 determined to accept this invitation; and, accordingly, in May, 1813, he 
 removed his family to Brighton, and commenced his labours as editor of 
 the Christian Disciple ; and he continued them till the close of 1818. This 
 work, as conducted by him, though in its general influence favourable to 
 Unitarianisna, was remarkably free from a controversial tone, and professed 
 to aim more at the cultivation of the Christian temper than the exposition 
 of Christian doctrine. 
 
 In 1818, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, by 
 Harvard College. 
 
 from the Bible, 1811. Call for Scripture Evidence that Christ is the Self-existent God : A 
 Letter addressed to the Rev. Samuel Spring, D. D., 1811. Instruction and Consolation to 
 the Afflicted, from the History of Joseph : A Sermon occasioned by the Death of Joseph "Ward- 
 well, 1814. Ecclesiastical Usurpation and Strange Inconsistency exposed; relating to an 
 Exparte Council held at Salisbury, N. H., 1815. A New Chain of Plain Argument, deemed 
 conclusive against Trinitarianism: Addressed to a Trinitarian Writer in the Panoplist, in a 
 Series of Candid Letters, 1817. Extract of a Friendly Letter to a Trinitarian Brother in the 
 Jlinistry, 1819. 
 
NOAH WORCESTER. 195 
 
 In connection with his labours as editor of the Christian Disciple, he 
 commenced and prosecuted a vigorous system of effort in favour of the 
 cause of Peace. His mind had, for many years, been in an unsettled state 
 in respect to the lawfulness of War ; and, at length, he attained to an 
 undoubtiug conviction that War, in every form, defensive as well as offen- 
 sive, is contrary to the spirit and precepts of the Gospel. In 1814, he 
 published his celebrated Tract, entitled "A Solemn Review of the Cus- 
 tom of War;" which has not only passed through many editions but has 
 been translated into several languages : and, for the time being at least, 
 seemed to have modified public sentiment on the subject to which it relates. 
 The publication of this Tract was followed almost immediately by the for- 
 mation of the Massachusetts Peace Society ; and, in 1819, commenced the 
 well known periodical, entitled " the Friend of Peace." which continued, 
 in Quarterly Numbers, for ten years ; nearly the whole of which was written 
 by himself. This work exhibits at once rich and varied resources, untiring 
 perseverance, and a spirit of enlarged and active philanthropy. 
 
 In 1828, on the completion of his seventieth year, finding it necessary, 
 as age advanced, to lighten somewhat the burden of his- labours, he discon- 
 tinued the publication of the Friend of Peace, and resigned the office, 
 which he had for several years held, of Secretary of the Peace Society. 
 His mind was now directed, with great intensity, to an examination of the 
 nature of the connection between the sufferings of Christ and the salvation 
 of men ; and, having reached definite, and to himself satisfactory, views 
 on the subject, he published them, in 1829, in a, small volume, entitled 
 "The Atoning Sacrifice, a Display of Love, not of Wrath." It has been 
 published more than once in this country, and has passed through several 
 editions in England. 
 
 In 1831, he published another small work, entitled "The Causes and 
 Evils of Contention among Christians ;" and, in 1833, a large "duodecimo 
 volume of more than three hundred pages, under the title of " Last Thoughts 
 on Important Subjects. In three parts — 1. Man's Liability to Sin : 2. 
 Supplemental Illustrations : 3. Man's Capacity to Obey." 
 
 For many years after he went to live at Brighton, he was Postmaster of 
 the place, the business of the office being transacted chiefly by his daugh- 
 ter ; but, when the business of the town had greatly increased, and large 
 sums of money must lie in the office over night, he thought proper, from 
 considerations of prudence, to resign his place. His neighbours, and the 
 inhabitants of the town generally, treated him with great respect and 
 kindness, and were always ready to contribute to his comfort in any way 
 within their power. 
 
 In 1815, he suffered an attack of paralysis, which it was apprehended 
 at first would prove fatal. He, however, recovered from it, after u, short 
 time, but had other attacks, less severe, in subsequent years. It was con- 
 fidently expected that he would die in one of these spasms, from disease 
 of the heart; but he actually died from an affection of the lungs. His 
 decline, for about five weeks previous to his death, was rapid. Fully con- 
 scious that his end was approaching, he said, — ".I think I may not be here 
 long, and I know not why I should desire to be." He continued able to 
 sit up, more or less, each day, till the last five days. A part of the last 
 
196 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 day lie seemed bewildered, but most of the time his mind was perfectly 
 clear. He died on the 31st of October, 1837. His Funeral took place at 
 the meeting-house in Brighton, at which he had worshipped, the services 
 being conducted by the Rev. Daniel Austin. His body rests at Mount 
 Auburn, where a monument has been erected to his memory. 
 
 Dr. Worcester had four sons and six daughters, — all by his first mar- 
 riage. One of his sons is the 'Rev. Thomas Worcester, D. D., Minister 
 of the New Jerusalem Church, Boston. 
 
 Besides the books and pamphlets already noticed, Dr. Worcester pub- 
 lished the following : — The Gospel Ministry illustrated : A Sermon 
 preached at the Ordination of Thomas Worcester, at Salisbury, 1791. A 
 Friendly Letter to the Rev. Thomas Baldwin, 1791. A Familiar Dialogue . 
 between Cephas and Bereas, 1793. A Candid Discussion on Close Com- 
 munion, 1794. New Hampshire Election Sermon, 1800. The First Com- 
 mandment of all illustrated and applied: A Sermon preached at Campton, 
 1806. Solemn Reasons for declining to adopt the Baptist Theory and 
 Practice ; in a Series of Letters to a Baptist Minister, (Third Edition,) 
 1809. Respectful Address to the Trinitarian Clergy, relating to their 
 Manner of Treating Opponents, 1812. Appeal to the Candid : or the 
 Trinitarian Review, Nos. 1, 2 and 3, 1814. Tract entitled " Thoughts on 
 the Personality of the Word of God," 1836. Tract entitled "A Review 
 of Atheism, for Unlearned Christians," 1836. Much the greater portion 
 of the productions of his pen are included in the two periodicals of which 
 he was editor. 
 
 FROM THE REV. GEORGE W. BLAGDEN, D. D. 
 
 Boston, March 19, 1851. 
 
 My dear Sir: My acquaintance with Dr. "Worcester was almost wholly 
 social. It'was very pleasant indeed ; and it has left so kindly an impression on 
 my mind that there are many reasons why I should like to write any thing to 
 be printed which should be likely to convey truly my impressions to other 
 persons. His daughter, at the time of my first preaching in Brighton, became 
 early a member of the church of which I was Pastor. This brought me soon 
 into frequent intercourse with the Doctor. He received me always as a father 
 would receive a son. He gave me every facility he could for doing good, con- 
 sistently with his own principles. On one occasion, perhaps on more, we 
 held the Monthly Concert of Prayer for the spread of the Gospel through the 
 world, at his house. He loved to talk with me on religious subjects without 
 controversy. He never tried to subvert my faith in the doctrine of the Trinity, 
 while, with a beautiful and honest simplicity of manner, he was ready, on any 
 proper occasion, to express his own views. He certainly appeared to me to 
 love all who loved the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, of whatever name or 
 sect they might be in religion. And I often had occasion to notice that if 
 either I or others were engaged in earnest efforts to do good, he would, at any 
 time, leave those who might theorize with himself, without the same amount 
 of zeal which he possessed, to co-operate with us; at least as far as he could 
 do so consistently with peace, which he loved, I might almost say, to a fault. 
 
 The old gentleman looked like a Patriarch. He was six feet or more in 
 height, with a large frame. His hair was rather long behind, hanging a little 
 over the collar of his coat. And when he walked in the street he usually had 
 a roomy black surtout or gown; and bore a staff rather than a cane, with a 
 
NOAH WORCESTER. 197 
 
 pretty large brimmed hat. When any one who loved what was antique and 
 venerable saw him thus, he could not fail to be greatly impressed by his appear- 
 ance, and to feel that he was in the presence of a dignified, yet entirely unas- 
 suming, man. His habits of living were very simple, partly, I have no doubt, 
 from taste, and partly, also, from necessity; for I have always understood 
 that his means were quite limited. It was alike pleasing and edifying to me 
 to hear him invoke the blessing of God at his table. He placed his hand 
 upon his heart, which had been beating therefor some seventy years or more, 
 — and which, when only a little excited, I rather think he was in the habit of 
 touching thus, — owing to a spasmodic affection of it with which he was often 
 afflicted, and would usually begin with the words, " Indulgent Parent!" I 
 seem to see him and hear him now; an unusually kind, and meek, and mod- 
 est, but courageous and conscientious old man; and I can truly say that the 
 memory of him to me is one of the most mellow and pleasant recollections of 
 my course thus far in life. 
 
 There are two remarks which I remember to have read in the writings — T 
 think a Sermon — of the late Dr. Channing respecting him, about the time of 
 his death; by which I was particularly impressed. The first was that, as one 
 came from a, visit to him, in his neat and humble abode, and returned into a 
 city like Boston, he could not but think, as he looked upon the abodes of many 
 of the wealthy there, how little was needful, after all, to ensure to a man, 
 whose heart and mind were superior to things seen and sensual, the purest 
 and highest earthly happiness of which, in this state of trial, we are usually 
 permitted to be the subjects. 
 
 The other remark was (though in the justice of it I have less confidence) 
 that, though Dr. Worcester read much, particularly in the latter part of his 
 life, yet the range of his acquaintance with other writers being somewhat cir- 
 cumscribed, he would sometimes consider a thought of his own as new, when 
 a more extensive reading would have taught him that it had been expressed 
 by others. This may have been the case. But many who have read much, I 
 apprehend, may have found it thus sometimes with themselves. Still the 
 Doctor's early advantages had been small, and probably there is truth in Dr. 
 Channing's suggestion. 
 
 Dr. Worcester had certainly a clear and discriminating mind, and so much 
 honesty and simplicity of character that wherever be supposed his investiga- 
 tion of the statements of the Bible led him, he would frankly avow his con- 
 clusions without much delay; and it is possible that, in some instances, if he 
 could have persuaded himself to wait a little longer that he might view the 
 same supposed truth from different positions, he might have arrived at a some- 
 what different result. It was here, perhaps, that the want of a more extended 
 range of reading, and a greater comprehensiveness of reflection, to which Dr. 
 Channing alluded in the second remark I have cited from him, discovered 
 itself. 
 
 I never heard the Doctor preach. But from what I have known of him in 
 his old age, when he had retired from the duties of the pulpit, I have been 
 led to believe that he was probably more simple and patriarchial than power- 
 ful in his preaching; though it was impossible that, with such a mind as he 
 possessed, his discourses should have been enriched with much vigorous, ma- 
 ture and well digested thought. 
 
 It occurs to me, as I have alluded to his age, that, during the period of 
 my acquaintance, I may almost say intimacy, with him, he impressed me 
 greatly with his good judgment by saying to me, in one of my visits to his 
 house, that he had just resigned his editorship of << The Friend of Peace," — 
 a periodical which he had, for a number of years, conducted, in behalf, I 
 believe, of the American Peace Society. And he said he had done so, becausa 
 
198 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 he had just turned of seventy years of age, and had resolved, many years 
 before, from what he had noticed of the unwise tenacity of some old men to 
 public trusts, after they were incapable of sustaining them, that, should he 
 live to be seventy, he would hold no public office. 
 
 I have now written. I believe, pretty much every thing that I can remember 
 concerning Dr. Worcester, that you could possibly turn to any account in 
 your proposed sketch of him. And I confess that I have done it with not the 
 less alacrity from the very consideration which, in the estimation of some, 
 might render it a matter of delicacy for me to do it at all — I mean the fact 
 that he was in some sense a Unitarian, for I would not shrink from paying a 
 tribute to acknowledged excellence, because it is associated with views of 
 religious truth that are not in accordance with my own. And then I used to 
 visit him in the sweet retirement of his peaceful and happy family, consisting, 
 at the time I knew him, of a second wife, — an amiable and kind woman, a 
 daughter, and a niece. The wife and niece, with him, their companion and 
 relative, have now gone hence to be here no more. The daughter still remains, 
 an inhabitant, I believe, now with another younger relative, of the same dwel- 
 ling in which I have been so often received as a welcome guest. His daughter 
 continues a most consistent and. highly influential member of the Church in 
 Brighton, with which I was connected, — esteemed and beloved by all who 
 know her. On her account, as well as for other reasons, I could wish that 
 some one who sustained such relations to Dr. Worcester as I have done, might 
 say something of his character through your contemplated publication. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 G. W. BLAGDEN. 
 
 FROM THE REV. THOMAS WORCESTER, D. D., 
 pastob op the new jerusalem church, boston. 
 
 August 18, 1863. 
 
 Dear Dr. Sprague: You desire me to tell you something about my father, 
 Noah Worcester, showing what he was particularly in his more private rela- 
 tions. I am glad that you have a letter from Dr. Blagden, because he was a 
 near neighbour of my father, and spent much time with him, but did not agree 
 with him in religious opinions. In Dr. Channing's works there is a sermon, 
 which he delivered soon after the death of my father, and from which you 
 can see in what estimation he was held by those who agreed with him. By 
 every one who was acquainted with him, you would hear it said that he was 
 remarkable for simplicity and transparency of character. This was because 
 he never aimed at a purpose which he wished to conceal. His own rule of 
 life may be seen in a rule which he gave to me, when I was going away from 
 home to keep school. I was quite young, — only sixteen. He took me by the 
 hand and said, " Good-bye, Thomas; mean well and explain your meaning." 
 He was a man of great dignity of character; because he always acted upon 
 high principles, and was always endeavouring to lead those with whom he 
 was connected, to act upon the same. 
 
 As to the Divine Law, in its literal sense, I have no knowledge, except my 
 general knowledge of human nature, that he ever had any inclination to do 
 wrong. His principal field of spiritual labour seemed to be that in which he 
 cultivated the higher Christian feelings; particularly those of forgiveness of 
 injuries and love towards enemies. In these efforts he was eminently success- 
 ful. Having changed his opinions, and therefore changed his position from 
 that of a distinguished member of one denomination to that of a distin- 
 guished member of another, he was of course exposed to many hard thoughts 
 and hard speeches. These he felt deeply; but no one could see in him any 
 
HENKY WARE. 199 
 
 resentment or disposition to retaliate. As he was a human being, he of course 
 had such feelings, during some part of his life. Whether he ever suffered 
 them to come forth, I do not know; but I never saw in him any thing but 
 kind feelings, and an inclination to excuse those who treated him injuriousl}'. 
 
 You doubtless remember the war which was carried on in this State between 
 the Trinitarians and Unitarians, about fifty years ago; and in which my 
 uncle, Dr. Samuel Worcester and Dr. William E. Channing were distinguished 
 antagonists. I do not suppose that any one, who was acquainted with the two 
 men, would regard the former as inferior to the latter with respect to Chris- 
 tian temper; and yet he did not, in that point of view, appear quite as some 
 of us had expected. The members of our family knew one thing more than 
 other people did — they knew that the manuscript of Dr. Channing was revised 
 by my father. 
 
 One circumstance interested us a good deal. Not long after the battle was 
 over, m} r uncle visited my father; and while they were conversing on the sub- 
 ject, the latter expressed his regret that the former had said some things 
 which appeared to him unduly severe. My uncle replied that he did not 
 intend to say any such things, and was sorry if he had; and added that 
 he should have been glad to have my father revise his manuscript before it 
 was printed, and should have requested him to do it, if he had had an oppor- 
 tunity. It would have been pleasant to see both parties resorting to the same 
 person for that purpose; and the tone of the controversy might have been the 
 better for it. 
 
 My father was regarded by all who were acquainted with him as a very 
 good man; but you would like to know whether that goodness was genuine or 
 not; whether he regarded it as from God, or whether he regarded it as origi- 
 nating in himself, and so relied upon his own merits. Upon this point, I feel 
 a good deal of confidence. I believe that he was habitually resisting the temp- 
 tation to regard goodness as his own, and habitually endeavouring to acknowl- 
 edge, more and more fully, that " none is good but one, God." I believe that 
 he regarded the Lord as the only Vine, and all good men as branches. I 
 believe that he was, in a good degree, sensible that it was necessary for his 
 spiritual life that he should abide in the Lord, and that the Lord should 
 abide in him. I say in u, good degree sensible of it, because no one on earth 
 is sufficiently sensible of his dependence upon the Lord. 
 
 Very affectionately and truly yours, 
 
 THOMAS WORCESTER. 
 
 HENRY WARE, D. D.* 
 
 1787—1845. 
 
 Henry Ware, a son of John and Martha Ware, was born in Sherburne, 
 Mass., April 1, 1764. His father was a farmer in moderate circumstances. 
 He was very feeble during his earliest years, and little expectation was 
 entertained that he would survive the period of childhood; but his consti- 
 tution gradually acquired vigour, so that, at the age of seventeen, he was 
 as capable of physical effort as most other boys of his age. His advantages 
 of education at this time were but small, as the school which he attended 
 
 * Dr. Palfrey's Commemorative Discourse. — Ms. from John Ware, M. D. 
 
200 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 was kept only from six to ten weeks during the winter, and the rest of the 
 time he was engaged with his elder brothers in performing such labour as 
 he was capable of on his father's farm. He was very quiet and amiable in 
 his disposition, a great lover of play, and far more apt to learn than any 
 of his schoolmates. 
 
 At the age of fifteen, death deprived him of his father; and his portion 
 of the paternal estate amounted to no more than one hundred pounds, of 
 the currency of that day. As this was quite inadequate to secure to him the 
 advantages of a collegiate education, his brothers, with exemplary gene- 
 rosity, agreed to combine their efforts in aid of this object. Accordingly, 
 in November, 1779, he was placed, as a student, under the care of the 
 Rev. Elijah, Brown, the minister of his native parish, where, in due time, 
 he completed his course preparatory to entering College. 
 
 He joined the Freshman Class in Harvard College, at the Commence- 
 ment in 1781. The College, owing to various adverse circumstances con- 
 nected with the state of the times, was then greatly depressed ; and its 
 advantages were probably less than at almost any preceding — certainly any 
 subsequent — period. Mr. Ware, however, evidently made the most of 
 them ; and, by the unusual regularity of his deportment, as well as his 
 untiring devotion to study, rose to the head of his class. This was indi- 
 cated by the fact that he was chosen President of each of the three Asso- 
 ciations of which he was a member ; that he never incurred a fine, or any 
 other penalty, at the hands of the Faculty ; and that, at the exhibitions 
 and at Commencement, the highest honours were assigned to him. 
 
 Immediately after his graduation, he took charge of the town school of 
 Cambridge, and, at the same time, commenced the study of Theology, with 
 a view to carry out a purpose which he had long before formed, of devot- 
 ing himself to the ministry. As Dr. Wigglesworth, the Professor of The- 
 ology, was then too infirm to give instruction, Mr. Ware pursued his stu- 
 dies under the direction of the Rev. Timothy Hilliard, then minister of 
 the First parish in Cambridge. 
 
 After having been thus engaged in teaching and studying a little more 
 than a year and a half, he commenced preaching; and his first sermon was 
 preached on his twenty-third birthday, April 1, 1787, in his native place, 
 in the pulpit of his early Pastor and instructor. His first efforts, as a 
 Preacher, were received with much more than common favour ; and in a 
 short time he received a call to settle as Pastor of the First Church in 
 Hingham, then recently rendered vacant by the death of the venerable 
 Dr. Gray. About this time, he was appointed to a Tutorship in Harvard 
 College, which, however, he declined, from a preference to engage imme- 
 diately in the duties of the ministry. He, accordingly, accepted the call 
 from Hingham, and was ordained and installed, October 24, 1787. The 
 Sermon on the occasion was preached by the Rev. Timothy Hilliard, and 
 was published. 
 
 Mr. Ware soon found that his salary (four hundred and fifty dollars) was 
 unequal to the support of a rising family; and, in order to make up the 
 deficiency, he was obliged to resort to keeping boarders and fitting boys 
 for College. Though this must necessarily have abridged, in some degree, 
 his professional attainments, he was still highly acceptable to his people, 
 
HENRY WARE. 201 
 
 and was greatly esteemed for his talents and virtues through the whole 
 surrounding region. 
 
 In the year 1805, when he was in the forty-first year of his age, he was 
 chosen to the Hollis Professorship of Divinity in Harvard College ;— the 
 chair having been recently vacated by the death of Dr. Tappan. The 
 appointment was confirmed by the Overseers on the 14th of February ; 
 his Inauguration took place on the 14th of May ; and he removed to Cam- 
 bridge the following month. In his acceptance of this appointment, he 
 was influenced partly by a desire to improve his worldly circumstances ; 
 for so straitened had they been while he was at Hingham that he felt that 
 his wife was subjected to anxieties and labours greatly beyond her strength, 
 and he thought it his duty to avail himself of this opportunity to secure to 
 her the needed relief. She, however, survived but a few weeks after their 
 removal to Cambridge. 
 
 Mr. Ware's election to the Hollis Professorship was an occasion of a 
 memorable controversy. Dr. Tappan, his predecessor, had always been 
 regarded as a Trinitarian and a moderate Calvinist ; but Mr. Ware was 
 understood to be a decided Arminian and a Unitarian. Vigorous efforts 
 were made to prevent the nomination, when submitted to the Overseers, 
 from being confirmed ; but it was confirmed by a vote of thirty-three to 
 twenty-three. The " orthodox" clergy generally were greatly dissatisfied 
 with the result, and Dr. Pearson, who had been both a Professor and a 
 Fellow in the College, the next year resigned both these offices, giving, as 
 a reason, that " the University was the subject of such radical and consti- 
 tutional maladies as to exclude the hope of rendering any essential service 
 to the interests of religion by continuing his relation to it." Dr. Morse 
 also published a pamphlet, entitled " True Reasons on which the Election 
 of a Hollis Professor of Divinity in Harvard College was opposed at the 
 Board of Overseers." This may be regarded as the commencement of the 
 Unitarian Controversy, which was prosecuted with great vigour for many 
 years, until at length the lines between the two parties were distinctly 
 drawn. 
 
 In 1806, Mr. Ware was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity 
 from Harvard College. 
 
 Though the controversy which originated immediately in his election to 
 the Professorship was going on, and putting in requisition able men on 
 both sides, Dr. Ware himself took no immediate part in it, until the year 
 1820, when he published a volume, entitled " Letters to Trinitarians and 
 Calvinists, occasioned by Dr. Woods' Letters to Unitarians," — which 
 passed through three editions the same year. In 1821, Dr. Woods replied 
 to these Letters ; and in 1822, Dr. Ware continued the controversy by au 
 Answer to Dr. Woods' second work ; and to this answer he subsequently 
 added a Postscript, making a considerable pamphlet. 
 
 In the discharge of his duties as Professor, Dr. Ware not only read to 
 the students Lectures on the Evidences, Doctrines and Ethics of Religion, 
 and on Biblical History and Criticism, but conducted the instruction of 
 the classes in the different text books which were used in those depart- 
 ments. After the establishment of public worship in the College Chapel, 
 in 1814, he regularly took his share in the pulpit service. After the 
 
202 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 death of President "Webber, and again, after the death of President Kirk- 
 land, he was invested with the temporary government of the College, and 
 there was no diminution of its prosperity under his administration. 
 
 In 1811, Dr. Ware commenced a course of exercises with the resident 
 students in Divinity, out of which grew the Divinity School, which has 
 since been connected with the College. When this school was formally 
 organized, in 1816, ho became Professor of Systematic Theology and the 
 Evidences of Christianity, and continued to occupy this place twenty-four 
 years. 
 
 About the close of the year 1839, Dr. Ware, in consequence of the 
 inconvenience which he experienced from a cataract which had been, for 
 several years, forming on his right eye, found it necessary to relinquish a 
 portion of his labours; arid, accordingly, from that time, he limited his 
 attention to the Divinity School. In the autumn of 1840, he concluded, 
 though not without considerable hesitation, to submit to the operation of 
 couching, as an experiment of relief; having, however, previously resigned 
 his Professorship, and received from the Corporation of the College the 
 highest testimony of their sense of the value of his services. The opera- 
 tion upon his eye was a failure; and, shortly after, he was attacked with 
 a violent fever, from the remoter effects of which he never fully recovered. 
 During the two following years, partly to relieve himself from the tedium 
 incident to inaction, he carried through the press a selection from one of 
 the series of his Academical Discourses, entitled "An Inquiry into the 
 Foundation, Evidences and Truths of Religion." The labour requisite to 
 this publication was probably an overtasking of his nervous system; and 
 his faculties, both bodily and mental, from that time, underwent a rapid 
 decline. During that and the following year, he confined himself chiefly 
 at home, though he sometimes attended public worship, and occasionally 
 walked in his garden. He walked abroad, for the last time, on the 20th 
 of November, 1843, when he passed to his new dwelling ; — a dwelling 
 which seven weeks afterwards was burnt to ashes. It was, however, 
 quickly rebuilt, and he was again happy in the occupancy of it. He gra- 
 dually sunk under the power of disease, and died June 12, 1845. A Dis- 
 course on his Life and Character was subsequently delivered at Cambridge 
 by Dr. Palfrey. 
 
 On the 31st of March, 1789, Dr. Ware was married to Mary, daughter 
 of the Rev. Jonas Clark, of Lexington, who died July 13, 1805, aged 
 forty-three, having been the mother of ten children, — seven daughters and 
 three sons. He was married, a second time, on the 9th of February, 1807, 
 to Mary, daughter of James Otis, and widow of Benjamin Lincoln, Jr. 
 She died on the 17th of the same month, aged forty-two. He was mar- 
 ried, a third time, not long after, to Elizabeth, daughter of Nicholas Bowes, 
 formerly an eminent bookseller of Boston, who became the mother of nine 
 children, — five sons and four daughters. Six of his sons graduated at Har- 
 vard College, and most of them have occupied, or now occupy, places of 
 usefulness and honour. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Ware's publications : — 
 
 A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1795. A Sermon on the Death of Washing- 
 ington, 1800. A Sermon at the Interment of the Rev. Daniel Shute, D. 
 
HENRY WARE. 203 
 
 D., 1802. A Sermon delivered at Scituate, entitled " The Service of God 
 as inculcated in the Bible our Reasonable Choice," 1804. A Farewell 
 Sermon at Hingham, 1805. Eulogy on President Webber, 1810. A 
 Sermon at the Ordination of Joseph Allen, Northborough, 1816. A Ser- 
 mon at the Ordination of his Son, Henry Ware, Boston, 1817. A Sermon 
 delivered before the Convention of Congregational Ministers in Massachu- 
 setts, 1818. A Sermon at the Ordination of Alvan Lamson, Dedham, 
 1818. A Sermon at the Ordination of John Pierpont, Boston, 1819. A 
 Sermon at the Ordination of William B. O. Peabody, Springfield, 1820. 
 Letters, to Trinitarians and Calvinists, 1820. A Sermon at the Ordina- 
 tion of Charles Brooks, Hingham, 1821. The Massachusetts Election 
 Sermon, 1821. A Sermon at the Ordination of his Son, William Ware, 
 New York, 1821. Answer to Dr. Woods' Reply, 1822. A Postscript to 
 the Answer to Dr. Woods' Reply, 1823. Extract from an Address deliv- 
 ered before the Conference of Ministers in Boston, 1826. , A Sermon on 
 the Death of John Adams, 1826. The Use and Meaning of the phrase 
 " Holy Spirit," 1836. An Inquiry into the Foundation, Evidences and 
 Truths of Religion, 1842. 
 
 FROM THE REV. GEORGE PUTNAM, D. D. 
 
 Roxbuet, July 15, 1851. 
 
 My dear Sir : You ask me for some reminiscences of the elder Professor 
 Ware. 
 
 My first meeting with Dr. Ware was on entering College in 1822. He exam- 
 ined us in the Greek Testament. He wished to look at our books to see if 
 they were interlined — a precaution not taken by any other of the corps of 
 examiners. He took away the obnoxious volumes, mine among the number. 
 He did it so mildly, so politely, so modestly, as to remove all offensiveness 
 from the measure. When we had got through the examination, he compli- 
 mented us for our good recitation, and congratulated us on the circumstance 
 so favourable to us of having been put to the test of exchanging books with 
 him, and having borne it so well. We left him, — at least I did, — thinking 
 that, while he was the strictest of all the members of the Faculty through 
 whose hands we had passed, he was yet one of the kindest and pleasantest. 
 All I ever saw of him, during the rest of his life, was in keeping with that 
 little incident of the text-books, — the strictest ideas of propriety, thorough- 
 ness and discipline, with a winning gentleness and paternal friendliness of 
 manner and feeling. 
 
 My first interview, to have private speech with him, occurred at the close of 
 the first term of my Freshman year. He being the College Registrar, I called 
 at his study, as was the custom with many students at that time, to ascertain 
 my rank in the class. He very good-naturedly turned to his books and told 
 me. It was not a very high figure. (It was better afterwards, let me tell 
 you.) But he said it was very well indeed, very satisfactory. He made me 
 think that it was the best possible position, — to improve upon. It was high 
 enough to begin with. With such a start, I could be any thing I might choose, 
 and he made me think so. I was young and fresh from the deep country, and 
 had never in my life been so kindly noticed by a man in so high a station. 
 There was power and inspiration in his encouraging words. I really believe 
 that I went out of his study with a more cheering, arousing, influential 
 impression than I ever received before or since. President Kirkland was con- 
 sidered remarkable for this sort of influence] but I never had experience of it 
 
204 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 from him in any thing like the same degree. College instructors and dignita- 
 ries are seldom fully aware how much they may do for young men in this way. 
 
 Dr. Ware, you know, had a large family of his own, and, during a large part 
 of his life, he used to have boys in his house to educate. He was considered 
 very wise and successful in the management of them. He used to say that he 
 had no system about it, and never could arrive at any. Once, when asked by 
 a parent to draw up some set of rules for the government of children, he 
 replied by an anecdote: " Dr. Hitchcock," he said, " was settled in Sand- 
 wich; and when he made his first exchange with the Plymouth minister, he 
 must needs pass through the Plymouth woods, — a nine miles wilderness, 
 where travellers almost always got lost, and frequently came out at the point 
 the}' started from. Dr. H., on entering this much dreaded labyrinth, met an 
 old woman, and asked her to give him some directions for getting through th« 
 woods so as to fetch up at Plymouth rather than Sandwich. < Certainly,' she 
 said, < I will tell you all about it with the greatest pleasure. You will just 
 keep right on till you get some ways into the woods, and you will come to a 
 place where several roads branch off. Then you must stop and consider, and 
 take the one that seems to you most likely to bring you out right.' He did 
 so and came out right. I have always followed the worthy and sensible old 
 lady's advice in bringing up my children. I do not think anybody can do bet- 
 ter — at any rate I cannot." And yet he had some rules practically, whether 
 he knew it or not. One was, never to reprove a child at the moment, or in 
 presence of other persons, but to call him into the study afterwards for a 
 solitary talk. No child, I suppose, ever left his study, on such an occasion, 
 without increased love and reverence for him; but it was a formidable affair, 
 though he used not many words, and was always mild in his manner. " I do 
 wish," said one of his elder boys to another of them, " I do wish father 
 would flog us and done with it, — but this talk, there is no standing that; it 
 knocks a fellow up so entirely, and makes one feel so." 
 
 It was a principle with him to make but few points with a child, and avoid 
 collision of wills when practicable, but when he did take a stand, to abide by 
 it and prevail. But he was once known to surrender this principle, and 
 acknowledge himself beat. The boy got into a fit of passionate disobedience, 
 and the Doctor, after a long contest, gave in. An elder member of the family 
 wondered that he should yield. He said that some torrents were so violent 
 that they had better be left to themselves than resisted; and besides, he said 
 he did not wish to set the child an example of obstinate wilfulness, but would 
 rather let him see that the strongest must and could yield sometimes. 
 
 He was kind to children, and had a happy influence with them. Two little 
 girls, near neighbours of his, had imbibed a great terror of thunder, owing 
 to the example of a grandmother who lived with them. She was accustomed, 
 every summer afternoon, without fail, to walk round and examine the sky, 
 in search of thunder clouds, and if she discerned one no bigger than a man's 
 hand, she would immediately shut herself into her chamber, and generally 
 take the children with her, where she would spend the afternoon in a state of 
 the greatest agitation. The Doctor, seeing the effect upon these poor children, 
 determined to do all in his power to avert what he foresaw would be the con- 
 sequences to them in after life. He used, at such times, to send for them to 
 come and stay with his own children, and, after calming their minds, would 
 either leave them to themselves, or, if he found them still agitated with ter- 
 ror, he would amuse them by playing on his flute, and sometimes set all 
 hands to dancing, and strive in various ways to beguile them of their fears. 
 It came at last to be considered quite a holiday, when there were signs of an 
 approaching shower. Those children, to this day, remember with gratitude 
 the invaluable service he rendered them. 
 
HENRY WARE. 205 
 
 He was very fond of the society of children and young people, and loved 
 to have them in any numbers playing about him. And they liked him for 
 his benignant, though always grave, sympathy. He knew how to treat them 
 in one respect. He never kissed them on their faces — he kissed their hands. 
 He said it was not agreeable to children to be kissed by aged people. He 
 was wise here. "What martyrdoms children have to undergo in being kissed 
 by everybody that approaches them, especially elderly people. They hate it. 
 I have always admired Dr. Ware's practice on this point, as one of the high- 
 est and rarest attainments of social delicacy and tact. 
 
 Dr. Ware was all through life very watchful against habits of self-indul- ' 
 gence. After seventy, he received, as a birthday present from his grandchild- 
 ren, a large and luxurious easy chair. He was unwilling to use it for a long 
 time, for fear he should get in the habit of depending on the comfort of it. 
 
 He had a natural bashfulness or diffidence, which he never entirely got over. 
 I have heard him say that, after forty years in his profession, he still trem- 
 bled in the pulpit, and never rose to speak without a feeling of embarrass- 
 ment. This I attribute partly to his extreme modesty, and partly to the pro- 
 found reverence, the exceeding awe, (which I have never seen surpassed,) 
 with which he regarded the Deity, and every truth that pertained to Him, 
 and every service of which He was the object. Whenever he rose to pray or 
 preach, he knew what he was doing, he felt where he stood, — and he trembled. 
 
 Let me mention one of his professional habits. Most clergymen, I am sure, 
 will wonder and admire. As long as he was minister of Hingham, he said he 
 never slept on Sunday night till he had selected his text, and planned and 
 begun his sermon for the next Sunday. 
 
 From natural reserve, and a great abhorrence of cant, he was never a great 
 talker on religious subjects, even with his children; but he became more free 
 and communicative in his last years. The advance of age affected him, as, I 
 believe, it always does good men, but seldom or never bad men — it made him 
 more and more cheerful, genial, open and affectionate. During the period of 
 his decline, he did not care to hear any reading but from the Bible and reli- 
 gious works. Paley's and Sherlock's Sermons were favourite books; also the 
 " Chapel Liturgy." After his sight failed, he amused himself much with 
 recalling the Sacred poetry he had learned when young; and in the night, 
 before he went to sleep, he used to say it was a great comfort to "him to go 
 over even the little hymns of his childhood, and such texts of Scripture as 
 he could remember as far back as he could remember any thing. In his last 
 years of infirmity, the thought of death and a future state was always, with 
 him, evidently a most solemn thought, though generally a cheerful one. And 
 even when, to all appearance, his mental faculties were suspended, it was 
 evident, from occasional expressions, that his mind ran upon the same sub- 
 jects. He would ask, as if addressing another person, << Are you aware of 
 your approaching end ? Are you prepared for this great change ?" 
 
 I will break off here, for I am aware you do not want a character or a 
 eulogy. You do not need to be told how all who knew Dr. Ware respected 
 him for his wise and honest mind, his kind and gentle spirit, and his blame- 
 less life, and how those of us who knew him best, regarded him with unwont- 
 ed love and reverence. 
 
 Very cordially and respectfully yours, 
 
 GEORGE PUTNAM. 
 
206 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ABIEL ABBOT LIVERMORE. 
 
 Cincinnati, March 10, 1856. 
 
 My dear Sir: I snatch a few moments from many pressing duties to ans- 
 wer, in the best way I can, your request, and to recall the venerated image of 
 my beloved teacher and friend, — the Rev. Dr. Ware. The work you are 
 engaged in is a noble one, and ma}' you be prospered in its accomplishment. 
 If they sweep with care the floor of the mint to gather up the smallest frag- 
 ments of gold; if they collect with diligence the dust of diamonds,, which 
 flies off in the process of manufacture; with what reverent care should we 
 hoard up the precious heart and mind, — relics of the venerable worthies of 
 the past. 
 
 My opportunities for knowing the character of Dr. Ware were great.' I was 
 the instructor, for longer or shorter periods, of four of his children, — two 
 sons and two daughters. I chiefly fitted one of his sons, George, who after- 
 wards died in California, for College. I boarded in his family, sat at his 
 table, and heard his Table Talk, during the third term of my Junior year, 
 all my Senior year in College, and during the three years of my professional 
 education in the Divinity School. During my whole residence at Cambridge 
 of six years, I heard Dr. Ware preach at least one-half of the time. 
 
 It would be superfluous to say that the better any one knew him, the more 
 he would love and reverence him. He was the most candid and amiable of 
 men, a very woman in tenderness and love, and a hero, in his fearless advo- 
 cacy of his own honest convictions. 
 
 His conversation was very instructive, and I regret now that I did not note 
 down at the time many of the gems of thought which fell from his lips, dur- 
 ing the unreserved and familiar intercourse of so many years. We often sat 
 and talked together after the boarders had gone, especially after tea, during 
 the twilight, before the studies of the evening began. His mind took a free 
 range over almost all subjects, — religion, philosophy, history, characters, the 
 economics of life, manners, morals, &c. I recollect his once saying that none 
 of our American scholars, except Edward Everett, had been to Germany to 
 study, without being injured by it. 
 
 Dr. Ware was the soul of candour and fairness. He held the golden mean 
 in every thing. It seemed to be his desire to do perfect justice to every opin- 
 ion, every action or character, which came before him. He taught, in the lec- 
 ture roo'm, to distrust violent partisans on any side; to winnow out the grains 
 of pure wheat from the most unpromising heaps of chaff, and to love and 
 cherish truth at every cost. And all this genial grace of candour which he 
 practised there in his daily exercises, on Sunday he carried up into the 
 pulpit, and solemnized with Prayer and the dignity of the Sermon. As a 
 preacher, he was too logical, sensible, moderate and unimaginative to strike 
 the fancy of young college students. It was only when their own minds had 
 grown up to his serene and stormless height of contemplation, that they felt 
 the exquisite charm of his beautiful spirit. He was too rounded, too free 
 from angles and extremes, to be easily grasped and held; but his wisdom, 
 where it met a prepared and waiting spirit, I used to think was as nearly 
 perfect as any thing earthly I have met with. 
 
 Accept the above, with my best wishes for your health and happiness, and 
 make such use of it as you deem best. 
 
 Very respectfully yours, 
 
 A. A. LIVERMORE. 
 
JOHN ALLYN. 
 
 207 
 
 PROM THE REV. A. P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Cambridge, April 6, 1864. 
 Dear Sir: I can hardly add to the excellent sketch of the elder Dr. Ware, 
 already in your hands; but I have distinctly in my memory one very impressive 
 scene in his life, strikingly illustrative of the union of firmness and tenderness 
 which all who knew him well, recognized in his character. At one of the pub- 
 lic examinations of my College class, at which the Faculty in general were 
 present, — it must have been, I think, in the summer of 1826, — a message 
 was brought to the Examining Board, which caused their instant dispersion. 
 Many of us students, not knowing the purport of the message, but seeing the 
 Faculty moving in a body in the direction of Charles River, followed them. 
 Soori" after our arrival at the bank of the river, a student of another class, who 
 had been diving for that purpose, rose with the lifeless body of a beautiful boy 
 of ten or twelve years in his arms. It was a son of Dr. "Ware. He took the 
 child at once, held him while the physicians present ascertained that there 
 was no hope of recovery, and then superintended the arrangements l'or his con- 
 veyance home. Through the whole he was perfectly self-possessed, and yet 
 exhibited an absolutely motherly tenderness; and his aspect during that ago- 
 nizing season has constantly recurred to my remembrance as indicating the 
 intensest parental feeling, only the more vividly manifest for the entire 
 calmness and serenity of his mien and manner. On the following Sunday, he 
 appeared as usual in the pulpit, but not, as usual, with one of those lectures 
 of his stated course, which we used to think somewhat dry and wearisome. I 
 think there were but few eyes unmoistened during the service. He preached 
 from the quaint text, — << I will work, and who shall let it?" The sermon, in 
 composition and delivery, seemed like a rehearsal of the half hour by the 
 river-side. It made no parade of feeling; no direct reference indeed to the 
 scene so fresh in our minds. It was a touching statement of the baffling and 
 appalling mysteries of the Divine Providence, with the simplest possible 
 expression of trust in the wisdom and mercy which it transcends the vision of 
 man to trace and verify; the whole so phrased and uttered as to make it evi- 
 dent that it represented the very processes of thought and feeling by which 
 he had schooled his own heart to faith and submission. It was an eminently 
 logical sermon, and, as a mere scholastic exercise, fully equal to the most 
 subtile of his dogmatic discussions, but at the same time tremulously full of 
 emotion, all the more appreciable by eye and ear, because controlled and chast- 
 ened. I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 A. P. PEABODY. 
 
 JOHN ALLYK D. D * 
 
 1788—1833. 
 
 John Alltn, a sod of James Allyn, was born in Barnstable, Mass., on 
 the 21st of March, 1767. His father was a chair-maker by occupation. 
 The religious faith in which he was brought up was the Arminianism, 
 which, at that time, prevailed in that part of Massachusetts. He was 
 fitted for College under the instruction of the Kev. Mr. Hilliard, then 
 minister of Barnstable, but afterwards the colleague and successor of the 
 
 * Mass. Hist. Coll. Vol. V. 3d Series.— Ms. from Rev. Dr. Francis. 
 
208 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Appleton of Cambridge. He entered Harvard University in 
 1781, and graduated in 1785, at the early age of eighteen. 
 
 During his whole academic course, he was a diligent and successful Stu- 
 dent, and was regarded as possessing an intellect of a decidedly superior 
 order. Near the close of his collegiate course, he was seized with a severe 
 illness, which, for a while, put his life in jeopardy, and prevented him 
 from appearing in the part assigned to him at the Commencement. On 
 leaving College, he returned to Barnstable, where he was engaged for a 
 while in teaching a school. Having determined to devote himself to the 
 work of the ministry, he studied Theology under the direction of the able 
 and learned, but highly eccentric, Dr. Samuel West, of Dartmouth. 
 
 In September, 1788, having been licensed to preach, he received an 
 invitation from the Church and Society in Duxbury to become their Pastor. 
 On the 12th of October following, he signified his acceptance of their call; 
 and, on the 3d of December, the pastoral relation was constituted by the 
 usual solemnities. The Sermon on the occasion was preached by bis theo- 
 logical instructor, Dr. West, from 2 Timothy, ii, 15, and was published, 
 in connection with the Charge by Dr. Hitchcock of Pembroke, and the 
 Eight Hand of Fellowship, by the Rev. David Barnes of Scituate. 
 
 In 1804, Mr. Allyn delivered the Anniversary Oration before the Phi 
 Beta Kappa Society, in Harvard College. In the summer of 1807, he was 
 employed on a missionary tour in Maine, by the Society for Propagating 
 the Gospel among the Indians and others in North America. In 1808, 
 he was elected a Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. 
 In 1809, he delivered the Dudleian Lecture in Harvard College, on Supre- 
 macy and Infallibility. In 1813, he was honoured, by his Alma Mater, 
 with the degree of Doctor of Divinity. 
 
 In 1820, Dr. Allyn was sent, by the town of Duxbury, as a delegate to~ 
 the Convention for revising the Constitution of Massachusetts. He took 
 great interest in the proceedings of that Body ; and, though he made no 
 speeches, great deference is said to have been paid to his judgment on the 
 various questions that came up for consideration. 
 
 Dr. Allyn continued sole Pastor of his church till June 7, 1826, when 
 the Rev. Benjamiu Kent* was settled as his colleague. After that time, 
 he seldom engaged in any public services, and it was manifest that both 
 his strength and his spirits were gradually declining. The disease wliich 
 terminated his life was a mild form of paralysis. He died on Friday, July 
 19, 1833, and his Funeral was attended on the Monday following, when an 
 appropriate Discourse was delivered by his friend and college classmate, 
 the elder Professor Ware, of Harvard University, from Luke xx, 36. His 
 
 * Benjamin Kent, a son of Samuel and Rhoda (Hill) Kent, "was born in the part of 
 Charlestown which is now Somerville, Mass., 25th May, 1794. He graduated with high honour 
 at Harvard College in 1811; studied Theology at the Divinity School, Cambridge; was set- 
 tled as colleague of Dr. Allyn, at Duxbury, in 1826 ; and was dismissed on account of the 
 failure of his health, June 7, 18.13. From Duxbury he removed to Roxbury, where he taught 
 an Academy for young ladies for a number of years. He was afterwards Librarian of the 
 Roxbury Athenaeum, until the feeble state of his health compelled him to relinquish the post. 
 From the effect of severe and long continued head-aches, he finally became insane, and died 
 at the Insane Hospital in Taunton, Mass., August 5, 1859, aged sixty-five. He was a man 
 of superior intellect, and a great lover of antiquity. Not many years before his death, he 
 delivered the Annnal Poem before the Phi Beta Kappa Society in Harvard College. He was 
 married, September 27, 1826, to Eleanor Bradford of Boston. They had four children, — all 
 daughters, who, with their mother, survived him. 
 
JOHN ALLYN. 209 
 
 remains were deposited in the tomb of a higLly respected parishioner and 
 friend, the Hon. G-eorge Partridge, one of the patriots of the Revolution. 
 Dr. Allyn died in the sixty-seventh year of his age, and in the forty-fifth 
 of his ministry. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Allyn 's published writings : — 
 
 A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Alden Bradford,* in the East 
 Parish of Pownalborough, 1793 ; A Sermon preached on the Day of 
 Public Thanksgiving, 1798 ; A Sermon preached at Hanover, entitled 
 " The Flesh and the Spirit," 1799. A Sermon delivered at Plymouth on 
 the Anniversary of the Landing of the Pilgrims, 1801. A Sermon 
 preached on occasion of the General Election, 1805. A New Year's Ser- 
 mon, delivered at Duxbury, 1806. Christian Monitor, No. I, 1806. A 
 Sermon preached before the Academy at Sandwich, 1808. A Charge 
 at the Ordination of Henry Ware, Jr., 1817. A Charge at the Ordina- 
 tion of Benjamin Kent, as Associate Pastor with Dr. Allyn, in Duxbury, 
 1826. 
 
 Dr. Allyn likewise published two very characteristic and striking Obit- 
 uary notices, — one of Dr. West, of New Bedford, (Dartmouth,) and the 
 other of Dr. Barnes, of Scituate. 
 
 In 1791 or '92, he was married to Abigail Bradford, a daughter of 
 Job and Elizabeth Bradford, then living in Boston, and a lineal descend- 
 ant from William Bradford, the ancient Plymouth Governor. Mrs. Allyn's 
 mother's name was Elizabeth Parkman. They had five children. Two 
 of the sons were graduated at Harvard College — RufusBradford, in 1810, 
 who engaged in the profession of Law ; and John, in 1814, who studied 
 Divinity at Cambridge, but, after preaching for a short time, left the pro- 
 fession, and became a school-teacher. He died of consumption, at his 
 father's house, in March, 1824. One daughter was married to the Rev. 
 Convers Francis. t Mrs. Allyn died at the house of her son-in-law, Dr. - 
 Francis, in Watertown, in November, 1838, aged seventy-five years. 
 
 * Alden Bradford, a descendant of Governor Bradford, was born in Duxbury, Mass., in 
 1765; was graduated at Harvard College in 1786; was Tutor there from 1791 to 1793; was 
 settled as Pastor of a Congregational Church in East Pownalborough, Me., in 1793; and, 
 after continuing there for eight years, engaged in the book trade in Boston, as a partner of 
 the firm of Bradford & Read. Leaving trade for politics, he was Secretary of State in Mas- 
 sachusetts from 1812 to 1824. He died in Boston October 26, 1843, aged seventy-eight. He 
 published Two Sermons on the Doctrines of Christ, preached at Cambridge, 1794; A Dis- 
 course on occasion of the Opening of the Academy at Hallowell, 1 795 ; Two Sermons preached 
 at Wiscasser, (Pownalborough,) 1798; A Eulogy on George Washington, 1800; A Sermon 
 preached at the Ordination of Nathan Tilton ; [who was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1796; was ordained at Scarborough, Me., in December, 1800, and died in 1S51 ;] an Oration 
 on the Fourth of July, delivered at Wisca-.-et, 1804; a Sermon preached at Plymouth on the 
 Anniversary of the Landing of our Forefathers, 1805 ; a Sermon delivered at Thomaston, 
 Me., on occasion of the Death of the Hon. Henry Knox, 1806 ; Biography of Governor Caleb 
 Strong, 1820; An Essay on State Rights, 1*24 ; A Particular Account of the Battle of Bun- 
 ker's or Breed s Hill, 1825 ; History of Massachusetts from 1764 to 1 765, 8vo., 1825 ; History 
 of Massachusetts from July 1775 to 1789, 8 vo., 1825; History of Massachusetts from 1790 
 to 1820, 8 vo., 1829; Address before the Massachusetts Temperance Society, 1826; A Dis- 
 course before the Society for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians, 1830; Life of the 
 Rev. Jonathan M.iybew, D. D., 8vo., 1838; History of the Federal Government for Fifty 
 Years, from March, 1789, to March, 1S39, 8vo., 1840; Biographical Notices of Distinguished 
 Men in New England, — Statesmen, Patriots, Physicians, Lawyers, Clergymen and Mechan- 
 ics, 12mo., 1842; New England Chronology from the Discovery of the Country by Cabot in 
 1497 to 1820, 8vo., 1843 ; Description of Wiscasset, Me. [Mass. Hist. Coll. Vol. VII ;] Notes 
 on Duxbury, Mass. [Mass. Hist. Coll. Vol. X, 2d series.] 
 
 f Convers Francis, a son of Convers and Susannah (Rand) Francis, was born at Meno- 
 tomy, now West Cambridge, on the 9th of November, 1795. But while he was yet an infant, 
 his father removed to Medford, where the son spent his early years, partly in hard work and 
 
 Vol. Vlll. 14 
 
210 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CONVERS FRANCIS, D. D. 
 
 PROFESSOR IN" HARVARD COLLEGE. » 
 
 Cambridge, January 17, 1853. 
 Dear Sir: When I first knew Br. Allyn personally, he had passed the 
 period when his powers were most full and fresh, and something of decay 
 might be observed in him. Still, however, there was a remarkable brightness 
 in his best hours; and his genius gleamed out frequently in a way which would 
 have induced any observer, I think, to infer that he was really an extraordinary 
 man. On my first acquaintance with him, I was struck with the genial reality 
 of every thing about him, both in deportment and action. The wisdom of a 
 sage seemed to be invested with the naturalness, and frequently with the frolic- 
 heartiness, of a child. I always found that his quaint truthfulness, and his 
 exceedingly apt and amusing illustrations, made a deep impression, especially 
 upon young people. He seemed to be a revelation of ;i new sort of character 
 to them; and they listened to him and looked at him with delighted wonder. 
 I have heard that when, to enlarge a very scanty income, he took boys into 
 his family as pupils, his influence upon them was of a very remarkable kind. 
 
 partly in going to school. He was fitted for college, in about fourteen months, at 'a private 
 school, taught by a Dr. Hosmer, and entered at Harvard in 1811. After graduating in 
 1815, he returned to Medford, and took charge of a school for boys, and continued in that 
 employment for one year. In the autumn of 1816, he went to Cambridge to study Theology, 
 and remained there till November, 1818, when he received approbation to preach from the 
 Boston Association. During the following winter, he preached a good deal at the North 
 Church in Salem, whose Pastor, the Rev. John Emery Abbot, was then absent in the West 
 Indies for his health. Early in the spring of 1S19, he preached three or lour Sabbaths in 
 Watertown, Mass., and, in due time, was invited, by the concurrent voice of the church and 
 the town, to settle among them in the Gospel ministry. He accepted the invitation, and was 
 ordained and installed on the 23d of June, Dr. Osgood, of Medford, preaching the Sermon. 
 In May, 1842, he was appointed to the Professorship of Sacred Eloquence and the Pastoral 
 Care in the Divinity School connected with Harvard College. He accepted the appointment,, 
 delivered his Farewell Sermon on the 2X^t of August, and removed to Cambridge in time to 
 commence bis duties there the following term. Here he spent the remainder of his life, and 
 died on the 7th of April, 1863. He was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College in 1837. He was the father of six children, two of whom only survived him, 
 — a son and a daughter. The son, George Ebenezer, was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1858, and is a bookseller in Cambridge. Mrs. Francis died on the 17th of December, 1860. 
 His publications are, The Right Hand of Fellowship at the Ordination of Mr. Charles Brooks, 
 in Hingham, 1S21 ; A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Mr. Benjamin Kent, as Associate 
 Pastor with the Rev. John Allyn, D. D. in the Congregational Church at Duxbury, 1826; 
 Errors in Education : A Discourse delivered in Bedford, before the Middlesex Bible Society, 
 1828 : A Discourse delivered at the Anniversary of the Derby Academy in Hingham, 1828, 
 (two editions;) An Address delivered at Watertown on the Fourth of July J 1828; An Histo- 
 rical Sketch of Watertown, Mass. from the First Settlement of the Town to the Close of its 
 Second Century, 1830 ; The "Address" to the Society at the Ordination of Mr. Thomas B. 
 Fox in Ncwburyport, 1831; A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Mr. Oliver Stearns to 
 the Pastoral Care of the Second Congregational Society in Northampton, 1831; A Discourse 
 delivered at Plymouth in Commemoration of the Landing of the Fathers, 1831 ; The Charge 
 at the Installation of the Rev. Edward B. Hall in Providence, 1832; " The Dust to Earth, 
 the Spirit to God :" A Discourse delivered before the Congregational Society in Watertown, ' 
 1833; The Dudleian Lecture, delivered before the University of Cambridge, 1833; Three 
 Discourses preached before the Congregational Society in Watertown, — two upon Leaving the 
 Old Meeting House, and one at the Dedication of the New, 1836 ; Life of John Eliot, the 
 Apostle to the Indians, (Sparks' American Biography,) 1836; Memoir of the Rev. John 
 Allyn, D. D., of Duxbury, 1836 ; Memoir of Dr. Gamaliel Bradford, 1846 ; Memoir of Judge 
 Davis, 1819; [the last three were published in the Collections of the Massachusetts Histo- 
 rical Society ;] The Death of the Aged : A Discourse occasioned by the Death of the Rev. 
 Dr. Ripley, of Concord, 1S41 ; The Address to the People at the Ordination of John Pierpont, 
 Jr., at Lynn, 1843; Life of Sebastian Rale, Missionary to the Indians, (Sparks' American 
 Biography, new series,) 1R45; The Address to the People at the Ordination of Mr. Horatio 
 Stebbins, 1850 ; The Charge at the Ordination of Mr. Edwin M. Wheelock ; 1857. In addi- 
 tion to the above, he published many articles in the Christian Disciple, the Christian Exa- 
 miner, the American Monthly Review, the Unitarian Advocate, the Scriptural Interpreter, 
 also translations from Herder, several Sermons in the Liberal Preacher, and several Tracts 
 published by the American Unitarian Association. Dr. Francis was a man of a well balanced 
 and richly stored mind, of an eminently genial spirit and simple but attractive manners, and 
 was greatly esteemed in every circle where he was known. During an acquaintance with 
 him of many years, I always found him prompt, communicative and obliging. 
 
JOHN ALLYN. 211 
 
 He had his own peculiar way of managing them, and they loved and venerated 
 him, notwithstanding occasional eccentricities. He used to say, — " I do with 
 my boys as with my sheep; I take the basket of corn and go before them, and 
 they follow me." He would often place his arm-chair under a tree in his 
 orchard, and there, amidst the greenness and the beauty of nature, and the 
 wholesome sweet air of the fields, he would call the boys around him, and 
 hear their lessons, interspersing the exercises with amusing and wise remarks. 
 These scenes, I am told, some of them still remember as bright and happy 
 hours. Sometimes, when a boy came to him, who said he did not want to 
 study, the Doctor would reply, — " Well, you need not; you may go and run 
 about the farm." The consequence was that the boy soon grew weary of 
 being alone and idle, especially as he saw the other boys studious and happy, 
 and would come and ask to have his lesson set, and go to work as busily as 
 the rest. 
 
 When he was in good spirits, I think I never knew any thing of the kind 
 that equalled his genial vivacity and keen vigour of remark. It was surprising 
 to see out of how trifling an incident, out of how casual a suggestion, he would 
 create a rich fund of conversation, going on from one thing to another in the 
 most delightful way, till the company wondered to see whither they had come 
 from so small a beginning. In the midst of playfulness he frequently sug- 
 gested great principles with singular power. Every one who knew him well, 
 would, I am sure, vouch for all this, — though it is not easy to cite particular 
 instances of it, especially as the force of such things depends so much on the 
 occasion and circumstances. 
 
 In Theology Dr. Allyn was very decidedly a Unitarian, upon serious and 
 earnest conviction; and he never was a man to disguise or undervalue his 
 faith; but I have seldom known one who had so strong an aversion to contro- 
 ' versy. Not unfrequently he spoke of it in terms expressive even of thorough 
 contempt. I remember the surprise and regret he expressed, when his old 
 and beloved friend, Dr. Ware, engaged in the controversy with Dr. Woods. 
 In this as in some other matters, he was wont to push a favourite notion to 
 such an extreme, that it became as one-sided as the error to which it was 
 opposed. The odd expressions he frequently used on religious subjects some- 
 times startled and offended those who require every thing of this kind to be 
 measured by a conventional standard of gravity. But no one could know Dr. 
 Allyn without perceiving that he had the deepest reverence for sacred things. 
 Tokens and evidences of this, which broke out spontaneously and often, I call 
 to mind with pleasant recollection from his habitual feelings and conduct. 
 
 As to the particular form of Unitarianism which Dr. Allyn held, I think I 
 may safely say that he was an Arian. Such, at any rate, has always been 
 my impression ; and it has been confirmed by the testimony of his intimate 
 friend and neighbour, Dr. Kendall, of Plymouth. The Doctor mentions, as 
 an illustrative anecdote, that, at his house, Dr. Allyn once had a conversation 
 with the Rev. Mr. Burr, of Sandwich, after the latter had become a Unlvinist; 
 and that when Mr. B. maintained bis new views with great earnestness and 
 zeal, Dr. A. replied that, after his (Mr. B.'s) former opinions, it was very 
 natural he should vibrate to the opposite extreme; that he had once been (to 
 use Dr. A.'s expression) " at the bottom of the hill " in Socinianism, and it 
 was natural his next leap should be to the extreme of Calvinism. Dr. K. 
 understood Dr. A. to mean, on that and on other occasions, that he had no 
 sympathy with either of these views; and Dr. K. always supposed that his 
 religious views accorded with those of Doctors Gay, Shute, Hitchcock, Barnes 
 and others of the Bay Association at that time. 
 
 He had a way of conveying a rebuke or giving advice, that sometimes was 
 the more effective for the humour with which it was spiced. He once asked a 
 
212 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 fanatical itinerant, who had raised some excitement in Duxbury, why he came 
 there to disturb the religious peace of the village. " Because, 'i said the 
 man, — << Christ has commanded us to preach the Gospel to every creature." 
 "Yes," replied Dr. Allyn, — "but He has not commanded every creature to 
 preach the Gospel." Sometimes, by a deeply serious turn, quite unexpected, 
 he would produce a very solemn effect. On occasion of a family baptism, one 
 of the children was, as he knew, a very profane boy : when the Doctor bap- 
 tized him in the usual form, as he placed his hand on the youth's head, he 
 added these words: — " Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in 
 vain." The effect, it is said, was very impressive and very salutary. 
 
 His benevolence was proverbial. I recollect that he used often to go to the 
 cottages in the woods in distant parts of his parish, and carry a load of good 
 things in his sleigh or chaise, for the poor, especially for the old and sick. He 
 would call several of these families together at one of their houses, hold with 
 them a religious service of 'a very impressive, plain, practical character; and 
 then distribute among them what he had brought for their comfort. He 
 delighted to do such things as these, and his name was hallowed in the grati- 
 tude of the poor and friendless. 
 
 It was always evident, I think, to those who knew Dr. Allyn, that he was 
 fitted for a much higher sphere than that in which his lot was cast, and that, 
 in another situation, his peculiar powers would have been much better brought 
 out. But no man ever showe^ less of ambitious impatience with his lot. 
 
 I do not think of any thing more that it is important for me' to add, but I 
 am happy to send you the following notice of Dr. Allyn furnished by a mem- 
 ber of his family, who had the best opportunities for a thorough acquaintance 
 with his character and peculiarities, and who, though cherishing his memory 
 with deep affection, gives, without bias, a simple and truthful record of fami- 
 liar impressions. 
 
 " Dr. Allyn had always the zeal and the ardour that belong to genius, 
 without ever concentrating it upon any particular subject. Had he turned his 
 whole soul on any one object, — had he been a scholar, or an artist, he would 
 have been great. He had the spirit of a reformer, and would have had the 
 courage of Martin Luther, if he had lived in his time. He began life with 
 high aims, and a pure love of his profession, in all its various objects. From 
 his later life it might be inferred that in his earlier days he was precocious, 
 and even prematurely old. In his childhood and youth, he was said, by those 
 who knew him at that period, to have been much beloved by his companions, 
 and yet to have been often in the habit of doing little things to make them 
 uncomfortable, by way, as it would seem, of trial to their affection, or else 
 from some unaccountable waywardness of feeling. This trait might not be 
 thought worth mentioning, but for the fact that the habit, in some degree, 
 followed him through life. He lived an outward life; the workings of his 
 mind and heart were ever spontaneous and fresh. His best and brightest 
 things were ever on the surface. It required an unsophisticated intellect to 
 comprehend the meaning of many of his thoughts and modes of expression, 
 which are generally matured by an ordinary process of words and common- 
 places, and, in being thus matured and brought to light, lose half their strength 
 and raciness. Thus the common mind seemed oftenest to comprehend his 
 meaning, and he sought and found in the walks of daily life, among the lowly, 
 more sympathy and recognition than he experienced in what is called the 
 higher circles of society. He had ready sympathies for all, and none ever 
 sought his forgiveness in vain. He delighted in the young, and was truly 
 never so happy as when aiding in the development of the mind and heart, and 
 watching the simple growth of the young spirit. He loved nature in all its 
 aspects and connections, and was often seen in all the periods of his life, out 
 
JOHN ALLTN. 213 
 
 of doors in some shady place, or by the running brook, attending to the les- 
 sons or the reading of his various pupils. In their recitations, he was not 
 only the book-teacher, but he delighted to dwell on the spirit and beauty of 
 the author, and thus wrought on the minds of his pupils with triple cords of 
 love, duty and justice. He suffered no opportunity to pass unimproved to 
 awaken in others a zeal for improvement and a love of virtue. In his religion, 
 he was by no means regardless of forms, though he did not rest in them. For 
 many years he was almost alone, among the clergy in his neighbourhood, in 
 the belief and profession of Unitarian views, and in many instances was a 
 powerful agent in producing the conviction that those views had their root and 
 life from the Bible. He loved the Fathers, as he called them, — the strong- 
 pillars of the Ancient Church. He read them with great interest, as also the 
 old eminent English divines. Though decided in his own opinions, he was 
 never a bigot or sectarian, but allowed and respected all honest convictions, 
 however widely different from., his own. Truly catholic in his temper, he 
 loved all that was good in humanity, and had a ready eye to discover it. 
 
 << In the winter of 1S20, Dr. Allyn attended the Convention in Boston for 
 the amendment of the State Constitution. He stayed with a friend, (now 
 departed, the Rev. Henry Colman,*) who understood, appreciated and 
 humoured him. There are those living who remember the cheerful humour 
 with which he carried himself at that time. In the home of a favourite friend, 
 surrounded by a group of young persons, who hung on his word with eager 
 expectation, and who were ever ready to be amused and edified with his quick 
 wit and the bold freedom of his caustic wisdom, he was peculiarly happy. 
 Ever fond of the young, he was ever an object of interest and affection to 
 them. This winter of 1820 in Boston, when he was nursed in the lap of kind 
 friendship, left him, for a time, a changed man in his habits. When he returned 
 home, he seemed for a long time a stranger in his own house, and to have for- 
 gotten or laid aside his attention to the thousand little household minutije, 
 which sometimes engross too deeply even great minds. It has been thought 
 that had he been differently located in life, where there would have been 
 greater demands on his powers of mind, he might have been a happier and more 
 useful man. One who knew and loved him well, says of him, — ■ One of his 
 characteristic traits was a knowledge of himself, his own powers, and the 
 precise point where his strength lay, and the best mode of applying it. Many, 
 if not most, men, whose fame has gone a little abroad, and whose world ex- 
 
 * Henry Coliian was born in Boston September 12, 1785; was graduated at Dartmouth 
 College in 1805; was ordained, and installed Minister of the Second Congregational Church 
 in Hingham, Mass. in 1S07 ; and remained there until 1820. From 1825 to 1831, he officiated 
 as Pastor of a new Unitarian Society in Saleic, and afterwards removed to Deeriield, Mass., 
 where he devoted himself to agricultural pursuits. He was appointed Agricultural Commis- 
 sioner of the State of Massachusetts, arid, after passing considerable time in making a tour 
 of inspection in that State, and in preparing several Reports, he spent six years, from 1812 
 to 1848, in Europe. The results of his observations, during this time, were published after 
 his return, in his " Agricultural and Rural Economy of France, Belgium, Holland and Switzer- 
 land;'' "European Agriculture and Rural Economy;" and " European Life and Manners, 
 in Letters to Friends." In 381!), he revisited Europe, in the hope of benefiting his health, 
 but died in London, soon after bis arrival there, August 14, 1849. In addition to the works 
 already mentioned, he published the following: — A last Sermon preached at Quiney, Mass. 
 1812. — A Fast Sermon delivered at Hingbam and Quiney, 1812. — A Sermon preached before 
 the Massachusetts Humane Society^ 1812. — A Discourse delivered at Hanover, Mass. before 
 the Plymouth and Norfolk Bible Society, 18] (>. — Catechisms for Children, 1817. — A Sermon 
 
 delivered at Hingham, at the Ordination of Daniel Kimball as an Evangelist. 1817. The 
 
 Massachusetts Artillery Election Sermon, ISIS. — Sermons, one vol. 8vo. 1820. —A Discourse 
 on Pastoral Duty, addressed to the Ministers of the Bay Association, 1822. — A Discourse on 
 the Character proper to a Christian Society, delivered at the Opening of the Second Congre- 
 gational Church in Lynn, bs23. — Proper Tost of the Christian Church: a Sermon preaedied 
 at Boston, 1824. — A Discourse on the Proper Character of Religious Institutions, delivered at 
 
 the Opening of the Independent Congrefeatiemal Church in Boston Square, Salem, 1821. . 
 
 Reply to a Review of the foregoing, 1825. — Agricultural Address delivered at Greenfield 
 Mass., 1833. ' 
 
214 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tends- somewhat beyond the precincts of their own village, who have been 
 < taken notice of,' and perhaps been invited to exchange an obscure situation 
 for one more suitable to their merit, would step forward in all the self-suffi- 
 ciency of vanity, without considering whether they can figure on a new theatre 
 with the same eclat as on the old. They do not consider that there are few 
 of that amphibious race, who can change their manners and habits with their 
 place, and appear at home in any scene of action. Such was not Dr. Allyn. 
 lie took care to avoid the company, where cut of coat and cut of manners 
 were taken into the estimate of merit and character. He was not willing that 
 real excellences and acknowledged ones, when seen at a distance, should be 
 eclipsed by imaginary blemishes.' 
 
 " Dr. Allyn's peculiar traits of character were more fully expressed in his 
 letters and conversation than in his sermons. A few sentences from a letter, 
 written during the sitting of the Convention, in 1820, in Boston, may serve to 
 illustrate his manner. < Have just come in fiiom a Committee meeting on the 
 Third article— we are generally agreed as to the basis of principle, but cannot 
 agree as to the wording of our combined wisdom on the subject. We are ever 
 and anon alarmed with fears of some ambiguity that may give rise to law- 
 suits, or cause us to be defeated of our determined purpose in the result, 
 which is to make everybody pay something for their instruction in Religion 
 and morals, as well as in writing and arithmetic. We all say Amen to the 
 Third article, down to the end of the first paragraph, ending with the word 
 ' voluntary.' We then agree to expunge, not alter, the second paragraph, 
 ending with the word < attend.' We agree that every man may worship where 
 he chooses, and pay where he worships. We get along in the third paragraph 
 to the word, < maintenance.' But here commences the difficulty. No less than 
 five or six entirely different paragraphs have been offered to supply the place 
 of the next ten lines. The last thing we did to-night was to commit the diffi- 
 culty to a sub-committee, one of whom is a determined infidel; another, a 
 Hopkintonian, who has declared his wish to expunge the whole article; a 
 third, who has said three times that religion and morality have no imagina- 
 ble connection; a fourth, a lawyer from Concord, who is averse to changing a 
 word from what it now is; and a fifth, whose moderation and firmness will 
 keep the rest from tearing all to pieces. We shall expect their doings to-mor- 
 row.' 
 
 '< Omission of Dr. Allyn's benevolence would be leaving out the principal 
 element of his character. He did not withdraw himself behind the screen of 
 justice and poverty, when humanity cried for relief, nor wait till his own 
 coffers were filled before he helped to fill the hand of want. He bestowed 
 with a liberal hand, trusting that the < Lord still loves the cheerful giver.' 
 He was liberal to his family, to his friends, and to his foes. Prudence might 
 have called him too lavish, but, be it remembered that debts always came first. 
 ' Owe no man any thing ' was as. much his motto as ' Cast thy bread upon 
 the waters.' With his generous mind, it was hard to be straitened, as he 
 was, by those whose duty it was to pay him for services and a life's devotion 
 to their good, but like almost, if not quite, all country parishes, they thought 
 that as little as the minister could possibly live upon was enough. Conse- 
 quently Dr. A. had to resort to school-keeping, and to farming on a small 
 scale, to eke out a scanty maintenance. As he had to build a house, support 
 his family, and educate his children, it was only with the combined efforts of 
 himself and family, and the occasional aid of a friend, (not of his own parish 
 or town,) that he could bring the year about. He was a despiser of shams, 
 and could say with Cowper, ' in my soul I loathe all affectation.' " 
 I remain, dear Sir, very truly yours, 
 
 COXVERS FRAXCIS. 
 
THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 215 
 
 THADDEUS MASON HARRIS, D. D. 
 
 1789 — 1842. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Brookline, March 1, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: Doctor Harris was the friend of both my earlier and 
 later years. He passed the whole period of his ministry in the congrega- 
 tion in the bosom of which I was born, and baptized, and spent the days 
 of my youth. I respected, reverenced, loved him ; and you may well sup- 
 pose that it costs me no self-denial to perform the service you have request- 
 ed of me, in giving you a brief sketch of his life and character. 
 
 THADDErs Mason Harris was a descendant, of the sixth generation, 
 from William Harris, who came to this country at an early period, was a 
 barrister, accompanied Roger Williams to Providence, was taken captive 
 by the Algerines on his return to England, was redeemed for two hundred 
 dollars, and died in London in 1680. His grandfather, Cary Harris, 
 died in 1750, under somewhat peculiar circumstances. He had invited 
 company to commemorate his nuptials. On asking a blessing at the table, 
 one of his friends removed his chair, and he fell backwards, which occa- 
 sioned his immediate death. His father, William Harris, born in 1744, 
 was first assistant teacher of a school in Boston, and afterwards Precep- 
 tor of a school in Charlestown. Here he built a small house, and married 
 Kebeckah Mason, daughter of Thaddeus Mason, of Cambridge, for many 
 years Clerk of the Courts for Middlesex County. Here the subject of this 
 sketch was born, on the 7th of July, 1768. 
 
 After the first hostile demonstrations on the part of the mother country, 
 at Lexington, fears were entertained for the safety of Charlestown ; so 
 that, just before the battle of Bunker Hill, Mr. Harris fled, with his 
 family, in the hope that they might somewhere find a refuge from the threat- 
 ening danger. 
 
 Accordingly, with a, few necessary articles of clothing, such as they 
 could carry in their hands, they set out on foot,- — Thaddeus, then not quite 
 seven years old, leading his twin sisters next in age to himself, the father 
 and mother each carrying a child, and an aged grandmother also making 
 one of the company. They spent the first night at Lexington with a 
 remote relative ; and, while there, an empty wagon was about leaving, in 
 which they bespoke a passage to any place to which the owner was bound. 
 Accordingly, they were carried to Chookset, part of Sterling, where Mr. 
 Harris took a small house, and supported his family by keeping a district 
 school. Meanwhile, he went to Charlestown, and brought away a few arti- 
 cles of value which he had left behind. But soon the Battle of Bunker 
 Hill took place, Charlestown was laid in ashes, and the house of Mr. 
 Harris, with whatever of its contents remained, was demolished. Shortly 
 after this, he joined the Army as Captain and Paymaster ; and, on a visit 
 to his family, died of a fever, October 30, 1778, aged thirty-four years. 
 
 Thaddeus then went to live with a farmer by the name of Haughton. 
 
216 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Here he went to school with the farmer's children ; and, as they lived at 
 some distance from school, he used to be furnished with dinner to stay at 
 noon, which he invariably carried to his mother, depending on his school- 
 mates to supply his own wants. As soon as the family with which he lived 
 discovered this, they generously made such provision for the Harrises as 
 kept them from want. After having resided a short time at Westminster, 
 and afterwards at Templeton, he went back, in the latter part of the year 
 1779, to Chookset, and was soon introduced into the family of Dr. Ebeue- 
 zer Morse,* of Boylston, who had been obliged to leave the ministry on 
 suspicion of Toryism, and was supporting his family by the practice of 
 Medicine, and by fitting young men for College. This good man kindly 
 took this unprotected orphan into his study, and assisted him to go through 
 the preparatory course for College, with his own son. While here, young 
 Harris did something for his own support, by different kinds of manual labour. 
 
 In July, 1782, he went to visit his mother, who, in the mean time, had 
 married Samuel Wait, of Maiden, and informed her that he was fitted for 
 College by Dr. Morse, who had advised him to enter at Cambridge, trusting 
 to the provision there made for the education of the indigent. She, how- 
 ever, strongly disapproved of such a course, and at once put him to learn 
 a mechanical trade ; but, in consequence of an accident that happened to 
 him, he was obliged to leave the place, and went to write in his grand- 
 father Mason's office, with the intention of becoming a merchant. With a 
 view to qualify himself for this occupation, he contracted with his grand- 
 father to pay for his board by writing, and went to Cambridge School, then 
 kept by Mr. Samuel Kendal, afterwards the Rev. Dr. Kendal, of Weston. 
 
 Finding him au apt scholar, his teacher strongly urged his taking a col- 
 legiate course. By his recommendation, the late Doctors Stillmau aud 
 Thacher, of Boston, issued subscription papers, which procured him the 
 means of defraying his college expenses. He entered College in July, 17S3. 
 
 In March, 1786, his Junior year, his mother came to his room in Col- 
 lege to examine his wardrobe. Finding it very destitute, she proposed to 
 take the money which he had earned, by writing for his grandfather, and 
 purchase some necessary articles of clothing. Arrangements were, accord- 
 ingly, made, that he should obtain his dues from his grandfather, meet his 
 mother on a certain day at Charlestown, and accompany her to Boston. 
 
 But he neglected to call on his grandfather for the money till the morn- 
 ing of the appointed day, when he found he was out of town. He tried in 
 vain to borrow what he needed, and started for Cliarlestowu with a heavy 
 heart, indulging many rash and even impious reflections on his hard lot. 
 On his way, he cut a stick for a cane, and, as he was passing Charlestown 
 Neck, with gloomy thoughts and weary steps, he perceived something at 
 the end of his stick, which he in vain attempted to shake off. On examin- 
 ing it, he found that it was some kind of metal — he knew not what — but 
 thought it might be an ornament fur a negro, by whose hut he was then 
 passing. Without much thought he put it into his pocket. On crossing 
 the ferry, as he was leaning on the side of the boat, the thing in his pocket 
 hurt him. He took it out, and found that it had become bright by friction. 
 
 * Ebenezer Morse was a native of Medfield; was graduated at Harvard College in 1737; 
 was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Boylston, October 26, 1743; was dis- 
 missed November 10, 1775 ; and died January 3, 1802, aged eighty-four. 
 
THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 217 
 
 On entering Boston, he carried it to a goldsmith, who', cutting it open, pro- 
 nounced it to be gold, and showed him the motto, which was, " God speed 
 thee, friend;" and added, " Here are two dollars for you, Sir, which is the 
 worth of the ring." This affected the young man to tears ; for he felt that 
 Providence was rebuking him for his despondence and fretfulness, and was 
 providing for him in a way which ought to excite his warmest gratitude. 
 The goldsmith, finding hjm so much affected, added another dollar. Mr. 
 Harris then hastened to his mother with the joyful news ; and she at once 
 resolved to call upon the goldsmith and inspect the ring. On seeing it, 
 she also wept; whereupon, the goldsmith added three dollars more, making 
 six dollars in all. This was amply sufficient for the present supply of his 
 necessities. 
 
 This remarkable occurrence made so deep an impression on his mind that, 
 in May following, he felt it his duty to unite, and accordingly did unite, 
 with the Cambridge Church, — the Rev. Timothy Hilliard, the Pastor, 
 preaching an appropriate Sermon on the occasion, from Psalm cxix, 9. 
 " Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way ? By taking heed 
 thereto according to thy word." 
 
 He was graduated in July, 1787, at the age of nineteen, with John 
 Quiney Adams, Judge Putnam, Judge Cranch, James Lloyd, &c, among 
 whom he sustained a highly respectable rank. He delivered a poem at 
 Commencement, which attracted no small attention, insomuch that Dr. 
 Belknap and Dr. Thacher unitedly solicited a copy for publication in the 
 Columbian Magazine at Philadelphia, and urged their request on the 
 ground that they were "fully persuaded that it would tend to increase the 
 reputation of the College at the Southward." This request, however, he 
 promptly declined. 
 
 On leaving College, he taught a school for a year at Worcester ; and, at 
 the, end of that time, was applied to, to become General Washington's Pri- 
 vate Secretary. He had consented to serve ; but, in consequence of taking 
 the small pox, he was prevented from entering at once on the duties of the 
 place, and it was filled by Tobias Lear. 
 
 After studying Theology awhile with the Rev. Samuel Kendal, of Wes- 
 ton, he went, by advice of President Willard, to Cambridge, to continue 
 his studies there. He was soon appointed Sublibrarian, and, in 1791, 
 Librarian, of the University. 
 
 He received approbation to preach, from the Cambridge Association, in 
 June, 1789, — a little before he was twenty-one years of age ; and he 
 preached, for the first time, on the 26th of July following, in the pulpit of 
 my predecessor, the Rev. Joseph Jackson. After preaching in several 
 of the neighbouring parishes, he accepted a call from the Church in Dor- 
 chester, where he was ordained as sole Pastor, October 23, 1793, — the 
 Rev. Moses Everett having resigned his charge in the early part of the 
 same year. 
 
 Mr. Harris was married on the 28th of January, 1795, to Mary, only 
 daughter of Dr. Elijah and Dorothy (Lynde) Dix, of Worcester, Mass. 
 They had eight children, — five sons and three daughters. Their eldest 
 son, (Thaddeus William,) the only one who received a collegiate educa- 
 tion, was graduated at Harvard College in 1815, studied Medicine and 
 
218 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 practised the same till the summer of 1831, when he was elected Librarian 
 of Harvard College, which office he still retains.* 
 
 Being appointed one of the administrators of the estate of his wife's 
 father, he was obliged to make a voyage to England, on business relating 
 to the settlement of this estate. He improved the opportunity to visit 
 various parts of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland; leaving New York 
 for the voyage, August 7, 1810, and returning there again, May 13. 1811, 
 after an absence of about nine months. During this time, he made many 
 friends in the places he visited, and left (as is said by one of the Boston 
 clergy who soon afterwards followed him) very favourable impressions upon 
 some of the leading minds of the Independent denomination there. 
 
 Until 1804 Mr. Harris' pastoral charge included the entire town, which 
 then comprehended the whole of what is now called South Boston. He 
 was truly " in labours more abundant," — writing more sermons than almost 
 any of his brethren ; more prolific in publications of various kinds than 
 almost any contemporary divine ; making frequent visits to the University, 
 of which, during his whole pastorate, he was an Overseer, — arranging its 
 library, and presenting, nearly every year, an elaborate report. He spent 
 much time also in superintending the common schools, and performed the 
 laborious task of arranging Washington's papers, in one hundred and 
 thirty-two volumes, and aiding Mr. Sparks, by copious indexes and notes, 
 in preparing thejn for publication. 
 
 The secret of his accomplishing so much was his untiring industry, and 
 a perfectly methodical arrangement of his time. He was an early riser, 
 and had a time for every thing, and took care that every thing was done in 
 its time. He was so remarkable for punctuality to his engagements that no 
 instance can be recollected in which he was at any place of meeting, where 
 his duty required him to be, one moment after the appointed hour. 
 
 An alarming attack of illness, in the winter of ISSli— 33, reduced him to 
 a state of great debility, and it became necessary for him to seek the 
 influence of a Southern climate during the following winter. He embarked 
 at Boston for South Carolina, December, 1833, arrived at Charleston, 
 passed some time there and at Savannah and Augusta, where he occasion- 
 ally preached, and returned from Charleston, and reached home, May 31, 
 
 1834. During his visit to Savannah, he became interested in the life and 
 labours of General Oglethorpe, and collected some materials for a bio- 
 graphical and historical account, which he finished, and published at Bos- 
 ton, in one volume, octavo, in May, 1811. 
 
 Mr. Nathaniel Hall was ordained his colleague on the 16th of July, 
 
 1835, when Dr. Harris was sixty-seven years of age. But this measure 
 was altogether of his own choice, not a single member of his parish having 
 so much as intimated even the expediency of it. So also, when he sought 
 the dissolution of his pastoral relation, it was not only without the desire, 
 but in spite of the remonstrances, of all who took an active part in the 
 concerns of the parish. A dismission was granted him, at his own earnest 
 request, in October, 1836, when he had been settled just forty-three years. 
 The separation was attended with mutual expressions of good will, — of the 
 Pastors toward each other and toward their people. 
 
 « He died in 1856. 
 
THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 219 
 
 While he was Librarian at Harvard University, he&published, in a small 
 duodecimo volume, the Natural History of the Bible. In 1820, he issued 
 a new edition of this work, greatly enlarged and improved, which is 
 thought to be very complete of its kind. So at least thought a foreign 
 publisher, who purloined the whole work, issuing it from the press under 
 his own name, and realizing from its sale substantial profits. 
 
 During the early part of his ministry, he travelled, for the benefit of 
 his health, into the State of Ohio, then a new country. On his return, 
 he published an account of his tour, which was every way creditable to 
 him. This work has been out of print for many years. The celebrated 
 John Foster, of England, author of "Essays," &c, employed a friend, 
 some years ago, to procure it for him, and, as it could not be found else- 
 where, I reluctantly parted with my copy to gratify the curiosity of that 
 distinguished man. 
 
 His last disease was peripneumony, which attacked him on the last 
 Lord's day of his life, — seven days after his last appearance in the pulpit. 
 It immediately prostrated his strength, and very soon deprived him of the 
 use of his reason. This may truly be considered as a merciful interposi- 
 tion of Providence in his behalf ; for such was his nervous excitability, 
 that, notwithstanding his oft repeated desire to be released from this body 
 of sin and death, he would have,instinctively shrunk from the pains which 
 imagination associates with the last struggles of dissolving nature. 
 
 His Funeral was attended in the meeting house, — where he had so long 
 officiated, — on the afternoon of the 7th of April, 1842, the day of the 
 Annual Fast ; a prayer having been previously offered at his late residence 
 in Boston, by the Rev. Dr. Frothingham, whose church he had attended. 
 Though the weather was unfavourable, the house was crowded, — several 
 clergyman in the neighbourhood, and among them Dr. Codman, of the 
 Second Church, having omitted their usual afternoon services that they 
 might be present. It fell to me to offer the Funeral Prayer. His late 
 colleague, and now his successor, the Kev. Nathaniel Hall, delivered an 
 Address, containing an outline of his life and character. In giving out 
 the hymn, I remarked to the choir that, a few years before, their departed 
 Pastor, in the ordinary service of the Sabbath, set them a hymn which he 
 desired them to sing to the tune of Jordan, and expressed the hope that 
 they would sing the same hymn to the same tune, at his Funeral. Accord- 
 ingly, I gave out the hymn, — " There is a laud of pure delight," &c. I 
 could not perceive but that his former charge manifested as deep emotion 
 as if he had been removed from them during his ministry, and in the 
 midst of his days and usefulness. 
 
 Dr. Harris was an early member of the Massachusetts Historical Society, 
 and, after the close of his ministry, became its Librarian. He was a mem- 
 ber of the Humane Society ; of the American Academy of Arts and 
 Sciences ; of the Massachusetts Bible Society ; of the Society for Propa- 
 gating the Gospel ; of the American Antiquarian Society ; of the Ameri- 
 can Peace Society ; Vice-President of the Congregational Charitable 
 Society ; Overseer of Harvard University during his ministry ; member 
 of the Horticultural Society ; Corresponding member of the Georgia His- 
 torical Society, and of the Archaeological Society in Athens, Greece. 
 
220 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Besides the works already referred to, Dr. Harris published the following 
 Occasional Discourses. 
 
 A New Tear's Sermon, 1796. A Sermon at the Ordination of John 
 Pierce, 1797. A Sermon on occasion of the National Fast, 1798. A 
 Century Sermon addressed particularly to a Religious Society of Young 
 Men, 1798. A Sermon on the Death of Washington, 1799. A Sermon on 
 the Death of the Author's Mother, 1801. A Sermon preached at Dedham, 
 on the day after the Execution of Jason Fairbanks, 1801. Twelve Masonic 
 Discourses, with several Charges, &c, 1801. 8vo. A Sermon at the 
 Installation of the Rev. Abiel Abbot, Beverly, 1803. A Sermon on the 
 Death of Deacon Abijah White, 1804. The Artillery Election .Ser- 
 mon, 1805. A Sermon before the Massachusetts Humane Society, 1806. 
 A Sermon at the Dedication of the South Meeting House, Dorchester, 
 1806. A Sermon at the Ordination of C. H. Shearman, 1807. A Sermon 
 before the Union Lodge, Dorchester, 1807. A Sermon at the Ordination 
 of Enoch Pratt, 1807. A Thanksgiving Sermon, 1807. Three Sermons 
 addressed to the Second Church in Dorchester, 1807. A Sermon preached 
 at Plymouth on the Anniversary of the Landing of the Fathers, 1808. A 
 Sermon preached at the Ordination of Samuel Osgood, at Springfield, 1809. 
 Tribute of Respect to the Memory of the Hon. James Bowdoin, 1811. A 
 Sermon against Suicide, 1812. A Sermon on Sensibility, 1812. A Ser- 
 mon on the Death of Ebenezer Wales, Esq., 1813. A Discourse at the 
 Funeral of Moses Everett, Esq., 1813. A Sermon before the Boston 
 Female Asylum, 1813. A Sermon at the Ordination of Ephraim Randall, 
 1814. A Sermon at the Ordination of Lemuel Capen, 1815. Pray for 
 the Jews: Thursday Lecture at Boston, 1816. Two Sermons, one on 
 Leaving the Old Church, the other on Entering the New one, at Dorchester, 
 1816. A Sermon on the Death of Nathaniel Topliff, 1819. A Sermon 
 before the Society for Propagating the Gospel, 182o. A Centennial Dis- 
 course, 1830. A Farewell Sermon, 1836. 
 
 Other Miscellaneous Publications. 
 Triumphs of Superstition: An Elegy, 1790. A System of Punctuation, 
 1797. An Address on occasion of the Drowning of three persons, 1803. 
 History of Dorchester, 1804. An Address before the Washington Benevo- 
 lent Society, 1813. Happy Death of a Child, 1815. A Textuary for 
 Preachers, 1818. Serious Soliloquies, 1819. Biography of Father Rasles, 
 (Mass. Hist. Coll.) An Address at the Installation of the Union Lodge, 
 Dorchester, 1824. An Account of the Old Book of Records, 1834. 
 
 Compilations and Abridgments. 
 Constitution of the Masons, 1792, 1798. Massachusetts Magazine, 
 edited by him, 1795, 1796. Beauties of Nature by Sturm, 1800, 1801. 
 Hymns for the Lord's Supper, 1801-1820. Zollikoffer's Exercises of 
 Piety, 1803, 1807. Minor Encyclopedia, 4 vols., 1803. Sephora, a He- 
 brew Tale, 1835. 
 
 I might add many interesting incidents in the life of my friend ; but I 
 suppose the above is all that your request contemplated. 
 
 Very sincerely your friend, JOHN PIERCE. 
 
THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 221 
 
 FROM TUB REV. SAMUEL OSGOOD,*©. D. 
 
 Spkingfield, Mass., September 1!J, 1859. 
 
 My dear Sir: Your request for my recollections of Dr. Harris carries me 
 back upwards of fifty-three years. Shortly after my graduation at Dart- 
 mouth College, in 1805, and while I was reading Law in an office at Fryburg, 
 my native place, I received an invitation to take charge of a school consisting 
 of the children of a few families in Dorchester; and this not only brought me 
 within the limits of Dr. Harris' parish, but led me to become a boarder in 
 his house. I continued an inmate of his family for about two years, during 
 which time I was in habits of daily and very free intercourse with him. After 
 I had been with him some months, my mind took a more serious turn, and I 
 resolved to devote myself to the Christian ministry; and, for somewhat more 
 than a year, I prosecuted my theological studies under his direction. The 
 change which subsequently took place in my own theological views might 
 perhaps have slightly modified my relations to Dr. Harris, and yet, when I 
 was settled in this place, he preached my Ordination Sermon, and I always 
 cherished a sincere and cordial regard for him till the close of his life. 
 
 Dr. Harris was, I think, fully of the medium height and size, and, in his 
 la^r years particularly, stooped considerably as he walked. His features 
 were regular, and the expression of his countenance uncommonly benign and 
 amiable. His perceptions w r ere clear, his intellectual processes direct and 
 natural, and his knowledge in some departments very accurate and extensive. 
 He was a great lover of Natural History, and was better acquainted with the 
 lives and characters of the distinguished men of not only his own but of pre- 
 ceding generations than almost any other man of his day. His very exten- 
 sive knowledge of this kind rendered him not only a very agreeable but very 
 useful companion. He hud naturally a most kindly spirit, and delighted in 
 dispensing favours whenever he had an opportunity. Though not praticu- 
 larljr animated in conversation, his friendly and genial manner always con- 
 ciliated good-will, and made him a favourite among his acquaintance. 
 
 Dr. Harris held a highly respectable rank as a Preacher, in the circle in 
 which he moved. Without any pretensions to what would commonly be 
 called pulpit eloquence, his discourses were always written in a neat and per- 
 spicuous style, and I believe never contained any thing from which any evan- 
 gelical Christian would find reason to dissent. I nevercould ascertain exactly 
 what his vi3ws of the Trinity were, though I know he did not admit the com- 
 monly accepted doctrine, on the ground, as I always understood, that it 
 seemed to him not only inexplicable but contradictory; but I very well remem- 
 ber his saying to me, in so many words, << I believe in the necessity of a spe- 
 cial Divine influence to renew and sanctify the soul, and rather than renounce 
 the doctrine of atonement I would yield my life." He had some admirable 
 qualities as a Pastor, especially the warmest sensibility, and the tenderest 
 sympathy with all who were in distress. He not unfrequently shed a profu- 
 sion of tears in the pulpit, and I believe rarely went through the services of 
 the Sabbath without being more or less melted under the sentiments which 
 he uttered. Indeed, this was of such frequent occurrence that it might per- 
 haps be considered as marking a constitutional infirmity. 
 
 Dr. Harris' prominent qualities were not of the bold and heroic sort, nor 
 would he have been selected to take the lead in any enterprise that required 
 extraordinary force of character. But he was sensible, well informed, cau- 
 tious, and persevering in his plans, and careful not to give needless offence; 
 and he was an object of much interest throughout the community in which 
 he lived. His published works were somewhat extensive, and they evince a 
 calm and even temperament, a cultivated taste, and much more than ordinary 
 scholarship. Yours affectionately, SAMUEL OSGOOD. 
 
222 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 I knew Dr. Harris from an early period of my ministry till the close of 
 his life.- My interest in him was not a little increased by the fact that I 
 had been familiar with his character from my boyhood, having very often 
 heard him spoken of by his intimate friend and classmate, and my venera- 
 ble instructor, the Rev. Abiel Abbot, of Coventry. And when I came to 
 see him, I found that he answered, in every respect, physically, intellect- 
 ually, morally, to Mr. Abbot's representation. What impressed me more 
 concerning him than any thing else, was his great knowledge of the per- 
 sonal history of many distingui s hed individuals, and the pleasure which he 
 seemed to take in conferring favours whenever it was in his power. The 
 only exception to his readiness to accommodate which I remember, was a 
 case in which his kindly feelings were evidently kept in check by his 
 modesty. In speaking of the wonderful providences of God towards him, 
 he once related to me the remarkable event, recorded by Dr. Pierce, of 
 his finding the piece of gold between Boston and Cambridge. I was so 
 much impressed by it that I was very desirous of having a written state- 
 ment of the facts from his own hand ; but he declined a compliance with 
 my request, on the ground, as I supposed, of being unwilling to write out 
 a story of which he was so manifestly the hero. In one instance, I had 
 stated a fact in an Historical Discourse, which was published, without 
 being able to- state other facts which gave to that its chief interest — as 
 soon as he discovered the omission, he volunteered to furnish me the infor- 
 mation in which I was deficient. Indeed, I have rarely witnessed a more 
 benevolent spirit than he manifested in all my intercourse with him. 
 
 PETER EATON, D. D * 
 
 1789— 1848. 
 
 Peter Eaton, a son of Joseph and Sarah (Webster) Eaton, was born 
 at Haverhill, Mass., March 25, 1765. His ancestors, for several genera- 
 tions, had cultivated the same farm on which he was born ; and his great- 
 grandfather was killed by the Indians, near his own dwelling, during the 
 celebrated Indian " raid" in that neighbourhood, in the year 1697. He 
 commenced his preparation for college under the Rev. Phineas Adams, t 
 but finished it at Phillips Academy, Andover, of which he was among the 
 earliest pupils ; and he is said to have enjoyed, in a high degree, the con- 
 fidence and good-will of its first Principal, Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Eliphalet 
 Pearson. In 1783, he entered Harvard College, where he held a high 
 rank as a scholar during his whole course, and was graduated in 1787. 
 Several of his classmates became very eminent men, chief among whom 
 was John Quiney Adams. The year befors he graduated, Dr. Pearson 
 accepted a Professorship at Cambridge, and it was a source of high grati- 
 
 * Various Obituaries. — Ms. from Miss R. E. Reynolds. 
 
 t Phineas Adams was a native of Rowley, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1762 ; was ordained Pastor of the church in West Haverhill in 1770 ; and died Kovembcr 17, 
 1801, aged sixty years. 
 
PETER EATON. 223 
 
 fieation to young Eaton that his relation to him as a pupil was thereby 
 renewed. 
 
 On leaving College, he taught a school for one year in Woburn, and then 
 passed some time in the study of Theology under the direction of the Rev. 
 Mr. Adams, under whom he had commenced his classical studies. Having 
 received license to preach, he preached his 'first sermon in Boxford on the 
 10th of January, 1789, from the text, — " Wherefore He is able also to save 
 them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him ; seeing He ever liveth 
 to make intercession for them." (Heb. vii, 25.) 
 
 On the 20th of April following, the Church in Boxford unanimously 
 agreed to extend a call to him to become their Pastor; and, on the 12th 
 of May, the Parish voted their unanimous concurrence in the call. In due 
 time he signified his acceptance-of their invitation, and, on the 7th of Octo- 
 ber following, was ordained to the work of the ministry, and installed as 
 the Pastor of that church. The Sermon on the occasion was preached by 
 the Rev. Phineas Adams, from Philippians ii, 29. 
 
 Mr. Baton, according to the custom of the time, was settled upon a 
 small salary, (eighty pounds,) with the additional consideration of a hun- 
 dred and eighty pounds which he received as a "settlement." Finding 
 his salary inadequate to meet the necessities of his family, he made a 
 formal request, in 1805, that he might be employed as a teacher in one of 
 the district schools within the limits of his parish — whereupon his people, 
 waking up to the urgency of the case, voted an addition to his salary of 
 one hundred dollars ; and this they continued to do nearly every year until 
 his relation to them as Pastor was dissolved. He seems to have been 
 little disposed to urge any pecuniary claims upon his flock; and, when the 
 addition to his salary was raised by a tax, he took special care that an 
 exemption should be secured to the poor who were unable to bear the 
 burden. 
 
 In 1819 Mr. Eaton preached the Annual Sermon before the Legislature 
 of Massachusetts ; and in 1820 was honoured with the degree of Doctor 
 of Divinity from Harvard College. 
 
 Dr. Eaton continued in the diligent discharge of his duties as Pastor 
 until the year 1845, when, owing to some peculiar circumstances, he vir- 
 tually resigned his pastoral charge, though he retained a nominal connec- 
 tion with his people till the close of life. This measure was not the result 
 of any diminution of attachment on either side ; for, while he cherished a 
 warm affection for them till the close of life, they followed him with their 
 demonstrations of tender regard, and still hold him in cherished remem- 
 brance. The last two sermons that he ever preached, were preached to 
 his own people, on the 21st of September, 1845, from Luke xii, 59, and 1 
 Corinthians, xiii, 1. Shortly after this, he removed, with his family, to 
 the South Parish in Andover, where he remained till the close of his life. 
 He died of lung fever, after an illness of two weeks, on the 14th of April, 
 1848, aged eighty-three years. The Funeral services were performed, on 
 the Sabbath following his death, in the Church at West Boxford, on which 
 occasion an Address was delivered by the Rev. Mr. Park, Junior Pastor 
 of the Church. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Eaton's publications : — 
 
224 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Two Sermons, on Religious Opinions, delivered at Haverhill, 1806. A 
 Sermon delivered at Topsfield before the Moral Society of Boxford and 
 Topsfield, 1815. A Sermon preached at the Installation of the Rev. Hum- 
 phrey C. Perley to the Pastoral care of the Second Church and Religious 
 Society in Beverly, Mass., 1818. A Sermon delivered on occasion of the 
 General Election in Massachusetts, 1819. An Address before the Agri- 
 cultural Society, at their Exhibition in Topsfield, 1822. A Sermon deliv- 
 ered at Amesbury, Mass., at the Ordination of Peter S. Eaton, 1826. 
 A Sermon delivered in the First Parish Meeting House, Haverhill, on 
 Titus iii, 8, 1828. A Sermon delivered in the West Parish Meeting 
 House, Boxford, on 1 Cor. i, 10, 1829. A Discourse delivered at the 
 Dedication of a New House of Worship in West Boxford, 1843. 
 
 He was married, on the 12th of September, 1792, to Sally, daughter of 
 the Rev. Eliab Stone, of Reading; — a lady of great worthy and distin- 
 guished especially for the domestic virtues. She died on the 12th of Janu- 
 ary, 1824. He was subsequently married to a widow lady, formerly of 
 Salem, who survived him, but has since died. He had six children, — four 
 sons and two daughters, — all by the first marriage. Of his sons, the eldest 
 and the youngest received a liberal education. The eldest, Peter Sidney, 
 was born October 7, 1798 ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1818, 
 and at the Andover Theological Seminary in 1824 ; was ordained Pastor 
 of the Church at Amesbury, Second Parish, September 20, 1826 ; resigned 
 his charge after a few years on account of feeble health ; was afterwards 
 employed for some time as a teacher in New Britain, Conn. ; and died at 
 Chelsea, Mass., March, 1863. The youngest son, John Hubbard, was 
 graduated at Harvard in 1827, studied Theology two years at Andover, 
 and two at New Haven ; but his physical constitution was too feeble to 
 allow him to take charge of a parish. He lived an invalid, doing what he 
 could for the relief of the poor and the needy in the city of New York, 
 where he died in July, 1863. 
 
 Dr. Eaton was greatly respected by the community in which he lived. 
 He was occupied considerably, during the summer season, in agricultural 
 pursuits, this being necessary in view of his small salary, while, at the 
 same time, it served to invigorate his health and render him more capable 
 of mental labour. He was in the habit also of receiving young men into 
 his family to prepare them for college, as well as those who, having become 
 members of College, had leave of temporary absence from it, that they 
 might mend their ways. All who had been his students were said to have 
 held him in most grateful remembrance. 
 
 FROM THE REV. XATHAXIEL WHITMAN. 
 
 Deerfield, January 27, 1864. 
 
 Dear Sir: Your favour of the 25th is before me, and I hasten to return to 
 it such an answer as may be in my power; though I fear I may be unable to 
 add much, if any thing, to what you already know respecting Dr. Eaton. I 
 am fully of the opinion that you do him no more than justice in placing him 
 among the highly respectable ministers of our denomination. 
 
 My venerated father and friend, Dr. Cummings, of Billerica, held Dr. Eaton 
 in the very highest esteem, as a man of sound and highly respectable talents, 
 as a most worthy minister of the Gospel of Christ, and as maintaining a 
 
PETER EATON. 225 
 
 character of marked independence, amiableness, peaceableness, seriousness, 
 and exemplariness. He used to love to expatiate upon his excellences and 
 testify his admiration for his character; and I think I have good reason for 
 saying that Dr. Eaton fully reciprocated his high regard and esteem. 
 
 Dr. Eaton did not belong to the Andover Association, to which Dr. Cum- 
 mings and myself belonged. He lived at some distance from Billerica, and, 
 as he travelled but little, he was very rarely seen in or near our village — 
 hence Dr. Cummings was very desirous of my bringing about an exchange 
 with him, that he might once more enjoy here below the society of one he so 
 highly esteemed and loved. The exchange, accordingly, took place; and 
 great was my gratification that it had been effected — for it was evidently an 
 occasion of the richest- enjoyment to Dr. Cummings. Both of them, though 
 having their own opinions on controverted subjects, and differing honestly in 
 regard to a few of them from some of their brethren, were free from a contro- 
 versial and sectarian spirit, and lived in the higher and purer regions of 
 thought and feeling. Dr. Cummings realized, from this interview, which he 
 fully expected would be their last on earth, all the comfort which he had antici- 
 pated. I was once called to sit in council, in a very unhappy quarrel — I 
 must call it — between two church members in South Boxford. It was about 
 a sheep's straying from one pasture to another pasture, and one man's setting 
 an old post five inches on another man's land, when he was re-setting a fence 
 in a swamp, where land, by the rod, was worth next to nothing. Dr. Eaton 
 was not a member of the council — he would not be — but volunteering to act 
 as a friend to both parties, he went to South Boxford, previous to the meeting 
 of the council, had the church called together, and earnestly exhorted them 
 to Christian forbearance, candour and mutual conciliation. A person who 
 was present and listened to him, told me that the Address was deeply affect- 
 ing, awfully solemn and clear and pointed in its warnings. "It seemed," 
 said he, << as if it might make us all one again; but it did not." Dr. Eaton 
 seems to have revealed himself, on that occasion, as an angel of light." He 
 spoke in the spirit and words of his Divine Master. 
 
 Being on a visit, at a certain time, to Brother Loring, of North Andover, he 
 invited me to take a ride to Boxford to see Dr. Eaton. I accepted his invita- 
 tion. We found the Doctor, then very old, but hale and cheery, out in his 
 field, making hay. After a little miscellaneous chat, we got upon the subject 
 of his continuing to preach at so advanced a period. He said that he was too 
 old to perform the services of a Pastor, and had several times made advances 
 toward the resignation of his charge; but that he was always told that he 
 must not quit yet, — that he could not yet be spared; " and so," said he, << I 
 continue doing as well as I can, and livmg along peaceably and pleasantly 
 with an affectionate and devoted people." Touching the controversies of the 
 time, his people were somewhat divided among themselves; but they were 
 united in their respect and affection for him. How it was, at a later period, 
 I know not. I o^nce heard him preach an Ordination Sermon, which was full 
 of excellent thought and admirably appropriate to the occasion. 
 
 Dr. Eaton's manners were plain and simple, and showed little familiarity 
 with the usages of polished society; but there was a generous frankness and 
 honesty expressed by them, much more attractive, as well as more effective, 
 than any mere artificial culture. He had a sound judgment and good logical 
 powers, and always moved forward to his conclusions with great care and 
 thoughtfulness. His sermons were the product of his own independent reflec- 
 tion rather than of reading; and this often gave them an air of marked origi- 
 nality. His delivery was characterized by great fervour and earnestness, and 
 uncommon distinctness of enunciation; so that he may, on the whofc be said 
 to have been a popular speaker. In his theological speculations, I suppose 
 
 Vol. VIII. 15 
 
226 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 him to have harmonized very nearly with Dr. Cummings of Billerica, Dr 
 Lathrop of Boston, Dr. Barnard of Salem, Dr. Symmes of Andover, and other 
 of the earlier ministers of the Unitarian School, — in other words, to have 
 been in some sense, an Arian. Though he was decided in his religious views, 
 and did not hesitate to avow them on what he deemed suitable occasions, he 
 was always most considerate, in this respect, of the feelings of others. So 
 far from being a controversial preacher, he purposely avoided preaching much 
 upon those doctrines which were in dispute; and some of his hearers, who were 
 Calvinists, steadily maintained to the last that his creed did not differ mate- 
 rially from their own. 
 
 Dr. Eaton was a man of the most kindly and genial spirit, ever ready to 
 exercise a generous hospitality to both strangers and friends, and to adminis- 
 ter relief, according to his ability, to the destitute and suffering. With his 
 parishioners he was always in the most intimate and agreeable relations, and 
 always enjoyed their unbounded confidence. He was more than once solicited 
 to leave his parish for one that would have been considered more eligible; but 
 nothing could induce him to listen to any such proposals. His only ambition 
 seemed to be to discharge his duties faithfully in the place in which Provi- 
 dence had cast his lot. Wherever he was known, his character commanded 
 general respect. I am very truly yours, 
 
 NATHANIEL WHITMAN. 
 
 DANIEL CLARKE SANDERS, D. D * 
 
 1790 — 1850. 
 
 Daniel Clarke Sanders, a son of Mieah and Azubah (Clarke) 
 Sanders, was born in Sturbridge, Mass., on the 3d of May, 1768. Both 
 of his parents, as well as his grandparents, were natives of Medfield. 
 His father having died in 1773, and his mother having married Cant, 
 Ebenezer Fisher, of Needham, he went thither to live in May. 1775, being 
 then about seven years of age. He was prepared for College by the Rev. 
 Samuel West, then Pastor of the Congregational Church in Needham, 
 and afterwards of the Hollis Street Church, Boston. He was admitted a 
 member of the Freshman class at Harvard in 1784, and graduated in 
 1788, having assigned to him for his Commencement exercise the first For- 
 ensic Disputation. In his Autobiography he has left the following record : 
 " I recollect my father, the evening before he died, expressed a strong 
 wish that I, his only son, might, if practicable, have a college education. 
 This I never forgot. This intimation determined my literary course. 
 There were not a few obstacles to overcome. I inherited want, and had 
 not a friend to help me. When I left college, I owed a hundred dollars." 
 
 Immediately after his graduation, he commenced teaching a common 
 school in Watertown, but relinquished it, after a few months, to take 
 charge of the grammar-school in Cambridge, where he fitted nearly twenty 
 boys for College. He occupied a room, during this time, in Hollis Hall, 
 and devoted his leisure to the study of Theology, being directed in his 
 Studies, partly at least, by the Rev. Dr. Prentiss, of Medfield ; by whom 
 
 * Ms. Autobiography. — lis. from 3Ir. Robert Roberts. 
 
DANIEL CLARKE SANDERS. 227 
 
 also he was baptized and admitted to the Communion, in September, 1789. 
 He was licensed to preach, by the Dedham Association, in 1790, and 
 preached his first sermon in the pulpit at Medfield, of which he afterwards 
 became the regular occupant. After leaving his school at Cambridge, and 
 preaching for some time there, and occasionally at other places in the neigh- 
 bourhood, he accepted an invitation to preach to the Congregational Church 
 in Vergennes, Vt., the result of which was that, on the 12th of June, 
 1794, he was ordained and installed as its Pastor. Sometime previous to 
 this, he was married to Nancy, daughter of Dr. Jabez Fitch, who had 
 removed to Vergennes, a short time before, from Canterbury, Conn. 
 
 He continued in this charge about six years. Having taken a deep inte- 
 rest, and had an important agency, in the establishment of the then new 
 institution, the University of Vermont, he was elected its first President, 
 and, with a view to the acceptance of that appointment, was dismissed 
 from his pastoral charge, on the 17th of October, 1800. This responsible 
 position he held during a period of fourteen years. 
 
 In 1809, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by 
 Harvard College. 
 
 In March, 1814, the town of Burlington having become the theatre of 
 great agitation on account of the War, the exercises of the College were 
 broken up by the occupation of its edifice by the American troops. In this 
 uncertain and perilous state of things, he resigned his place as President, 
 and, on the 14th of May, his family left Burlington, while the British flo- 
 tilla were lying in the bay, ready, as was supposed, to make an attack on 
 the town. As his health was now considerably reduced, he spent the fol- 
 lowing summer in the city of New York, with a view to its improvement, 
 sometimes supplying pulpits, as his health permitted, or as occasion 
 required. 
 
 In September following, he went to Medfield, and was invited to occupy 
 the pulpit in that town, which had been vacated, a few months before, by 
 the death of Dr. Prentiss. In due time, he received and accepted a call, 
 and was installed on the 24th of May, 1815, the Sermon on the occasion 
 being preached by himself, from Romans, xv., 29. 
 
 Dr. Sanders was elected, for Medfield and Dover, a member of the Con- 
 vention that revised the Constitution of Massachusetts, whose session con- 
 tinued from the 15th of November, 1820, to the 9th of January, 1821. 
 
 The relation between Dr. Sanders and his Society was never materially 
 disturbed until 1827, when some agitating questions between himself and 
 his people produced a state of things, which led him to propose a resigna- 
 tion of his pastoral charge. The Parish acceded to his proposal in March, 
 1829, and, on the 24th of May following, the arrangement for his dismis- 
 sion, thus mutually entered into, was sanctioned by an ecclesiastical coun- 
 cil. He continued, however, to live at Medfield, and occasionally preached 
 as a supply to vacant churches in the neighbourhood. He was frequently 
 chosen to represent the town in the General Court, and, for many years, 
 served as Chairman of the Board of Selectmen, and of the School-com- 
 mittee. 
 
 Dr. Sanders died at Medfield, very suddenly, of an affection of the heart 
 on the 18th of October, 1850, in the eighty-third year of his a"e. His 
 
228 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 wife died just ten weeks before him. They had eight children, — two sons 
 and six daughters. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Sanders' acknowledged publications : — 
 A Sermon before the Dorchester Lodge, 1792. A Sermon before the 
 Dorchester Lodge, 1794, A Sermon on the Death of the wife of Dr. Hoyt, 
 New Haven, Vt., 1795. A Sermon on the Death of Martin Harmon, A. 
 B., 1798. A Sermon before the Legislature of Vermont, at tho Annual 
 Election, 1798. A Sermon occasioned by the Death of George Washing- 
 ton, 1799. A Sermon before the Washington Lodge, 1800. A Sermon 
 on Slander, 1801. A Sermon on the Death of William Coit, Esq., 1802. 
 A Sermon on the Death of Eldridge Packer, 1802. A Sermon on the 
 Death of Mary Russell, wife of David Russell, Esq., 1805. A Sermon on 
 the Death of William H. Coit, Member of the Sophomore Class in the 
 University of Vermont, 1807. A Charge to the Graduates of the Univer- 
 sity of Vermont, 1807. A Sermon on the Death of Mrs. Emily Jewett, 
 1809. A Sermon on the Death of Mr. Henry Lyman, Merchant of Mon- 
 treal, 1809. A Sermon before the Washington Lodge, 1811. History of 
 the Indians, (anonymous,) 320 pp., 12mo., 1812. A Sermon on the Death 
 of Dr. Cassius Pomeroy, and A. M. and E. Gilbert, Members of the So- 
 phomore Class in the University of Vermont, 1813. An Address deliv- 
 ered in Sherburne, Mass., on the Return of Peace, 1815. A Sermon 
 before the Auxiliary Society for Promoting Temperance, Wrentham, 1815. 
 A Sermon before the Norfolk County Convention, Dedham, 1816. An 
 Address on the Fourth of July, 1816. Charge at the Ordination of Joseph 
 Allen, Northborough, 1816. A Sermon at the Artillery Election, Boston, 
 1817. A Sermon before the Washington Lodge in Roxbury, 1817. A 
 Sermon at the Dedication of the Meeting House in Medway, 1817. A 
 Sermon on the History of Medfield, 1817. An Address on the Fourth of 
 
 July, at Walpole, . An Address before the Norfolk County Bible 
 
 Society, 1829. A Sermon at the Interment of the Rev. George Morey,* 
 1829. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ELEAZER WILLIAMS. 
 
 Hogansbukgh, March 25, 1856. 
 
 My dear Sir : You ask for my recollections of the Rev. Dr. Sanders, formerly 
 President of the University of Vermont. My acquaintance with him was 
 limited to about two years, from 1812 to 1814, while I was residing, partly at 
 Burlington and partly at Plattsburg, as Confidential Agent of the Government, 
 and Superintendent of Indian affairs for the Northern Department. In con- 
 sequence of the confusion and exposure occasioned by the war, the College wa s 
 finally disbanded, and President Sanders returned to Massachusetts; but, 
 previous to this, I not only saw him frequently in private, but occasionally 
 heard him preach, and had, on the whole, a pretty good opportunity of form- 
 ing a correct judgment of his character. 
 
 His personal appearance was decidedly prepossessing. He was rather above 
 middling stature, with a well-formed and symmetrical person, and a pleasing 
 countenance. He was affable and courteous in his manners, conversed readily 
 and fluently on every subject that came up, and seemed to be an accurate 
 
 * George Morey was born at Norton, December 29, 1749 ; was graduated at Harvard 
 College in 1776 ; was settled as Pastor of the Church in Walpole, Mass., November 19, 1783 ; 
 was dismissed on the 21st of May, 1826 ; and died July 26, 1829, aged eighty. 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 229 
 
 observer of passing events, in their bearings especially upon the great cause 
 of civilization and humanity. He appeared to have a very thorough know- 
 ledge of History, and could refer to the past, either of our own or other 
 countries, with great freedom and pertinence. I never heard him spoken of 
 as a very thorough or profound scholar, though I think his attainments, in 
 all those branches that enter into a liberal education, were at least highly 
 respectable. 
 
 Dr. Sanders was, I believe, naturally an impulsive man, and subject to fre- 
 quent and great variations of feeling. In all my intercourse with him, so far 
 as I remember, I never saw him otherwise than in good spirits; and yet I 
 have heard that he was subject to occasional fits of deep depression. Indeed, 
 if I mistake not, this latter tendency developed itself so much during the 
 closing period of his life, as to form one of his most distinctive character- 
 istics. 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. Sanders was decidedly among the most popular in the 
 region in which he lived, and I may say, in the State of Vermont. His fine 
 person, his manly and agreeable voice and graceful gestures, gave great 
 impressiveness to his utterances in the pulpit. His style was modelled rather 
 after the French than the English school, and I well remember, on one occa- 
 sion, to have seen a volume of Bossuet, of Bourdaloue and Voltaire lying on 
 his table at the same time; and, pointing to the two former, he said, " These 
 two works have been blessings to the world — but that," pointing to Voltaire, 
 <<?has been a terrible curse." His theology never seemed to me to have any 
 very distinctive cast. The sermons whicn I heard him preach, so far as I 
 remember, might have come from a moderate Orthodox man or a moderate 
 Unitarian. But the prevailing impression was, at that time, and I believe it 
 was still stronger afterwards, — that he adopted substantially the Arian 
 creed. I ought to say, however, that I never heard him express any opinion 
 directly on the subject. Respectfully yours, 
 
 ELEAZER WILLIAMS. 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT, D. D* 
 
 1790—1859. 
 
 Abibl Abbot was born in Wilton, N. H., December 14, 1765. He 
 was a descendant, in the sixth generation, of George Abbot, the first of 
 the name who migrated to this country. He was the eldest child of Abiel 
 Abbot, who, though originally a cooper by trade, was chiefly occupied in 
 farming. He (the father) was a highly respectable man, was a zealous 
 patriot, and Major of a Regiment, during the Revolution ; and was 
 remarkable for industry, equanimity, integrity, public spirit, and benevo- 
 lence. Both his parents were brought up under the ministry of the 
 Rev. Samuel Phillips of Amlover, Mass., who was, after the straitest 
 sect, a Calvinist; anil the religious system which he taught, they embraced, 
 and delivered faithfully to their children. 
 
 When he (the sou) was about seven years old, he was lost in the woods, 
 and came very near being lost irrecoverably. His advantages of education, 
 during his earliest years, were very small, as he was taught chiefly by untaught 
 
 * Communication from himself and aoveral of his friends. 
 
230 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 teachers. When he was fourteen years old, he began to study Latin under 
 the instruction of the Rev. Abel Fiske, the minister of his native place ; 
 but he studied at considerable disadvantage, from not having previously 
 learned English Grammar. In November, 1780, he was admitted a stu- 
 dent of Phillips Academy, of which Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Eliphalet Pear- 
 son was then Preceptor. Here he was subjected to a rigid course of men- 
 tal discipline in connection with his classical studies ; and here no doubt 
 was laid the foundation of that remarkable simplicity and precision of style 
 for which he was ever afterwards so much distinguished. He continued in 
 the Academy until July, 1783, when he joined the Freshman class in Har- 
 vard College, having read considerably more of Latin and Greek than was 
 necessary to admission. He passed through College without ever incur- 
 ring fine or censure, and with a high reputation for both character and 
 scholarship. His taste inclined him chiefly to the study of the Languages, 
 in which he particularly excelled. 
 
 Within a few months after leaving College, he was invited to become 
 Assistant to Mr. Pemberton, then Principal of the Phillips Andover 
 Academy. He accepted the invitation, and remained in the place till July, 
 1789, upon a salary of sixteen shillings per week. This was important to 
 him as giving him an opportunity to review his elementary studies ; and, 
 in addition to this, he derived much advantage from a meeting of young 
 men for purposes of mutual improvement. 
 
 Immediately on leaving the Academy at Andover, he entered vigorously 
 on the study of Theology, availing himself of the library, and to some 
 extent of the instruction, of the Rev. Jonathan French. The books which 
 lie read were all of the most thorough orthodox stamp. In June, 1790, 
 he was approved as a candidate for the ministry by the Andover Associa- 
 tion and preached, for the first time, at Amesbury, in the pulpit of his 
 classmate the Eev. Francis Welch,* from Matt, xxii, 37, 38. After 
 preaching, for some little time, successively, at Kensington, N. H., Gar- 
 diner, Mass;, and Cambridge, he was employed as a missionary in the Dis- 
 trict of Maine, in connection with the Rev. Daniel Little, t known as "the 
 Apostle of the East," under the patronage of the Society for Propaga- 
 ting the Gospel. He continued in missionary labour five months, and, 
 notwithstanding the privations and sacrifices incident to that kind of work, 
 his time generally passed very pleasantly. 
 
 After completing his missionary tour, he preached, in 1792, in several 
 places, as Nelson, Greenfield, and Peterborough ; but in neither of them 
 were the people prepared to settle a minister. In February, 1793, he 
 preached at Middleton, and in April went to Penobscot, and preached 
 there and at Castine, until November. He was invited to settle in Cas- 
 
 * Francis Welch was born at Plaistow, N. H., on the 30th of May, 1766 ; was graduated 
 at Harvard College in 1787 ; was ordained Pastor of the Church in Amesbury on the 2d of 
 June, 1789 ; and died on the 15th of December, 1793, aged twenty-eight years. 
 
 ■j- Daniel Little was a native of Newbury, Mass. ; was ordained and installed Pastor of 
 the church in Kennebunk, Me., immediately after its organization; was honoured with the 
 degree of Master of Arts, from Harvard College, in 1766, received for his colleague Nathan- 
 iel Hill Fletcher) in 1800; and died suddenly in October of the following year. Mr. 
 Fletcher was a native of Boxborough, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1793; 
 was ordained and installed at Kennebunk, on the 3d of September, 1800; was dismissed on 
 the 2ith of October, 1827; and died at Boxborough, on the 4th of September, 1S34. He 
 published a Discourse on the question, How far Unanimity in Eeligious Opinion is necessary 
 in order to Christian Communion, 1827. 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 231 
 
 tine, but declined the invitation. In December, he preached a few Sab- 
 baths at West Newbury, then vacant by the removal of Dr. Tappan to the 
 Professorship of Divinity in Harvard College. 
 
 In January, 1794, he became Tutor of the Greek Language at Harvard 
 College, and continued in the Tutorship one year ; preaching occasionally 
 for the neighbouring ministers, and, during a part of the time, supplying 
 the pulpit at Newbury, and also at Maiden. 
 
 In January, 1795, he went to Coventry, Conn., upon an iovitation to 
 preach there as a candidate. He supplied the pulpit eight Sabbaths, and was 
 requested to return, but declined. During his stay there, he had attended 
 a ministerial meeting at Marlborough ; and, from certain discussions which 
 took place at that meeting, he inferred that the theological views of the 
 ministers generally were much more stringent than his own, and that he 
 should probably find little sympathy, if he were to become associated with 
 them. Under these circumstances, he thought proper to decline the invi- 
 tation to return, though he was uniformly treated by the people with great 
 respect and kindness. His preaching, at this period, did not approach 
 nearer to the accredited orthodoxy than Arminianism. 
 
 In May, 1795, he preached several Sabbaths in JMilford, N. H. In June 
 he spent a Sabbath in Lexington, and preached for the Rev. Jonas Clark ; 
 and Judge Ripley, one of the Committee for supplying the pulpit in Cov- 
 entry, being in Boston, and having learned that Mr. Abbot was to pass the 
 Sabbath at Lexington, rode out there, to endeavour to secure his services 
 again at Coventry. Mr. A. yielded to the Judge's importunate request, 
 and returned. His preaching was chiefly practical, as it had been before ; 
 and, being requested by an aged lady, (a daughter of the Rev. Mr. Meacham, 
 the first minister of that parish), to preach on the text, — " What think 
 ye of Christ ?" he did so, and, so far as he knew, to the satisfaction of the 
 people. 
 
 In August following, he received a unanimous call from the Church and 
 Society to become their Pastor ; but the apprehension that his views were 
 not sufficiently in accordance with the views of the neighbouring ministers 
 to warrant the expectation of so peaceable a ministry as he desired, disposed 
 him to return a negative answer. He wrote his answer accordingly, plac- 
 ing his declinature, however, on the ground that the salary which was 
 offered (a hundred pounds) would be inadequate to the support of a family. 
 When it became known that the answer was in the negative, — though it 
 had not then been formally promulged, — a subscription was immediately 
 set on foot, and in this way fifty pounds more were secured with very little 
 effort. As the case now presented itself, he felt constrained to give, and 
 accordingly did give, an affirmative answer to the call. A Council for 
 Ordination was agreed on, though two of the neighbouring ministers origi- 
 nally named, were set aside, and two others substituted, from an appre- 
 hension that such a measure might be necessary to secure harmony in the 
 Council. 
 
 His Ordination took place on the 28th of October, 1795, the Sermon 
 being preached by the Rev. Abel Fiske, of Wilton, and the Ordaining 
 Prayer offered by the Rev. Professor Tappan of Harvard College. He 
 was immediately invited to take up his residence, for some time, in two or 
 
232 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 three of the prominent families in his congregation, and he actually accept- 
 ed an invitation from Major Hale, in whose house he lived gratuitously till 
 June, 1797. This instance of liberality was alike accommodating to his 
 finances, and gratifying to his feelings. 
 
 Mr. Abbot was married on the 19th of May, 1796, to Elizabeth, daugh- 
 ter of John and Abigail Abbot, of Andover. They had threo daughters, 
 one of whom only has survived her father. Mrs. Abbot, who was a lady 
 of fine personal qualities, and was greatly respected in all her relations, 
 was a paralytic during many of her latter years, and died several years 
 before her husband. 
 
 Mr. Abbot, though brought up a Trinitarian and a Calvinist, seems 
 never to have fully received, even intellectually, what is commonly called 
 the Orthodox system ; while yet, at the commencement of his ministry, 
 he was scarcely sensible of any great departure from it. In 1791, he 
 wrote a sermon enumerating some doctrines peculiar to Christianity, one 
 of which was the doctrine of the Trinity. In 1792, he read Dr. Price's 
 sermons on the Christian Doctrine, which gave to his mind a decidod Anti- 
 trinitarian bias. In 1803, he set himself to a more formal and earnest ex- 
 amination of the subject, the immediate occasion of which was the avowal, 
 by the Rev. John Sherman, of Mansfield, of Unitarian opinions. The 
 result was a full conviction that Jesus Christ is not the Supreme God ; 
 though he never broached the subject in his preaching, nor oven in private 
 conversation, unless among particular friends. In 1805, he was a member 
 of the Council called to deliberate on the case of Mr. Sherman, and voted 
 in favour of giving him a certificate of good standing in the ministry. 
 Even this seemed to produce no visible dissatisfaction in his parish, not- 
 withstanding his delegate, Judge Root, gave a different vote. Not long 
 after this, however, owing to other circumstances, suspicions in regard to 
 his orthodoxy began to be awakened, and several members of the church 
 felt themselves called upon to interrogate him directly on the subject. 
 The result was that they became satisfied that their suspicions were well 
 founded, and things were forthwith put in train to effect his ultimate sepa- 
 ration from his charge. In 1807, he requested his people to add one hun- 
 dred dollars to his salary, as it was not sufficient for the support of his 
 family ; though he made the request with the secret hope that it would 
 facilitate his removal from the parish. This request being declined, he 
 immediately asked for a dismission, presuming that the circumstance of 
 his having made the request for more salary might at least render his situ- 
 ation less comfortable, if it did not produce positive alienation. The 
 parish voted not to grant his request for a dismission, but at the same 
 time voted to add the hundred dollars to his salary. But, in consequence 
 of the difficulties of the times, owing particularly to the Embargo, which 
 had then just been imposed, Mr. Abbot desired the Committee not to assess 
 the one hundred dollars for 1808, as he was willing to share the hard times 
 with his parishioners; but it was, in a good degree, made up by the volun- 
 tary contribution of useful articles from both sexes. 
 
 In 1809, there was a meeting of the church, at which Mr. Abbot was 
 invited to be present, in order that they might ascertain more definitely 
 his views of Christian doctrine; but it resulted in nothing satisfactory. 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 233 
 
 In June, 1810, there was another similar meeting, held for a similar pur- 
 pose, and with a like unsatisfactory result. In October, 1810, the Church 
 sent a delegation to the Association, then met at Willington, to ask advice 
 as to the course they should pursue ; and the Association advised that they 
 should convoke the Consociation of Tolland County. When the delegates 
 made their report to the church, a vote was passed to comply with the 
 advice of the Association, and, at the same time, to request the parish to 
 join in calling the Consociation. This proposal the parish declined, though 
 they expressed their willingness to join Mr. Abbot and the church in call- 
 ing a Mutual Council, to whom the whole difficulty should be referred. But 
 this the Church, by its committee, refused. It was then proposed to Mr. 
 Abbot, by some leading members of the church, that he should join them 
 in calling a Mutual Council to dismiss him ; and he consented to this, pro- 
 vided the parish would dissolve his contract with them. And it was pro- 
 posed to the parish that they should join in calling a Council for his dis- 
 mission ; but to this they would not consent. After this, the Consociation 
 was convoked agreeably to the advice of the Association ; ami, on the 
 16th of April, 1811, the Consociation assembled at Coventry. Mr. Abbot 
 entered a protest against the authority of the Body on several different 
 grounds ; but his objections were not considered as valid, and they pro- 
 ceeded to depose him from the ministry on the ground of his holding 
 heretical doctrines. 
 
 As neither Mr. Abbot nor the parish acknowledged the jurisdiction of 
 the Court, so neither did they consider themselves bound by the result. 
 Accordingly, he continued to occupy the pulpit as usual ; though he and 
 they soon after joined in calling another Council from Massachusetts, con- 
 sisting chiefly of prominent Unitarian ministers, which assembled on the 
 6th of June following, reviewed the whole case, and declared Mr. Abbot's 
 relation to his people unaffected by the decision of the Consociation — 
 nevertheless, in view of the. peculiar circumstances, they concluded that 
 his interests and the interests of his parish required that his pastoral rela- 
 tion should be dissolved. In August following, Mr. Abbot published a 
 Statement of his difficulties at Coventry, which was subsequently replied to 
 by the Association of Tolland County, in a pamphlet, written by the Rev. 
 afterwards Dr.) Amos Bassett, of Hebron. The General Association of 
 Connecticut, at its session in June, 1812, took notice of the matter, by 
 request of the TollaDd Association, and made a Report on the subject of 
 considerable length. 
 
 About the 1st of September, Mr. Abbot left Coventry, and went to 
 Byfield, Mass., and took charge of Dummer Academy. After continuing 
 thus employed for seven years and a half, he removed in April, 1819, to 
 the North Parish of Andover, where, for some time, he was engaged in 
 conducting a farm. In May, 1824, he removed to Chelmsford, where he, 
 assisted by one of his daughters, opened a school. In the autumn of 1826, 
 he went to live at Wilton, where also he took charge of a farm. During 
 his residence in these several places, he often preached for his brethren in 
 the neighbourhood, and, at one time, he occupied the pulpit in North Ando- 
 ver, for several months, without interruption. In March, 1827, he went to 
 preach at Peterborough, in the pulpit rendered vacant by the then recent 
 
234 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 dismission of the Rev. Elijah Dunbar. About the 1st of May he received 
 a call, which he accepted ; and in June following he was installed, the Rev. 
 Dr. Abbot of Beverly preaching on the occasion. He received the degree 
 of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard College in 1838. 
 
 He continued in the regular discharge of the duties of his office at Peter- 
 borough for twelve years ; but, in March, 1839, he found it necessary, on 
 account of a severe bronchial affection, to tender the resignation of his 
 charge. He. however, retained a nominal pastoral relation until Septem- 
 ber, 1848, when, on the settlement of another Pastor, he thought best that 
 his relation to the people should be formally dissolved. For some years 
 after he had ceased to preach regularly, he occasionally supplied pulpits in 
 the neighbourhood, though, during several of his last years, he found him- 
 self obliged to decline all public service. 
 
 In 1854, his grandson, Samuel Abbot Smith, having become Pastor of 
 the Church in West Cambridge, Mass., Dr. Abbot removed thither to 
 spend his remaining days. Here he lived as the Patriarch of his neigh- 
 bourhood 4 admired for his cultivated intellect, his bland manners, and his 
 genial and philanthropic spirit. In the fall of 1859, he mp.de a visit to 
 his relatives in Wilton, and passed several weeks there ; and, though bend- 
 ing under the infirmities of age, he was still bright and cheerful, and 
 revelled amidst the scenes of his early recollections. He returned home in 
 his usual health, and there was nothing in his appearance to render it 
 improbable that several years might still be added to his life. On the 
 morning of the 31st of December, he arose as usual, and took his break- 
 fast without any signs of indisposition ; but shortly after he left the table, 
 he complained of severe pain in the chest, and he lived only long enough 
 to be placed on his bed. He died at the age of ninety-four, and, at the 
 time of his death, was the oldest graduate of Harvard College. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Abbot's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon preached at North Coventry, on the Fourth of July, 1799. 
 Right Hand of Fellowship, addressed to Cornelius Adams,* at his Ordi- 
 nation, 1805. A Statement of Proceedings in the First Society in Coven- 
 try, Conn., which terminated in the Removal of the Pastor: with an 
 Address to his late People, 1811. An Address delivered before the Essex 
 Agricultural Society, at the Agricultural Exhibition in Danvex - s, 1821. 
 History of Andover from its settlement to 1829, 1829. A Genealogical 
 Register of the Descendants of George Abbot of Andover, George Abbot 
 of Rowley, Thomas Abbot of Andover, &c, 1847. The Rev. Ephraim 
 Abbot was associated with him in the authorship of the last mentioned 
 work. 
 
 The first time that I came in contact with Mr. Abbot was three or four 
 weeks after his Ordination, when he laid his hand upon me, an infant about 
 a month old, in the administration of Baptism ; for, though my father was 
 not a member of his church, he happened to exchange with the minister 
 of our parish that day, and thus it was that I was baptized by him. During 
 the period of my childhood and early youth, I used to hear him preach 
 
 * Cornelius Adams "was graduated at Yale College in 1803; was ordained, and installed 
 Pastor of the Congregational Church in Windham, (Scotland Parish,) Conn., December 5, 
 1805, and died the next year. 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 235 
 
 very often, and I well remember that the exchanges which our minister 
 mado with him were always gratifying to the congregation. When I was 
 a little more than twelve years of age, as I lived only between two and 
 three miles from his residence, I began to study, under his instruction, in 
 preparation for College ; and I think his interest in me from the beginning 
 was somewhat increased by the fact that, as soon as he knew my name, he 
 recollected that I was the first child he ever baptized. I was his pupil 
 during the greater part of the time for three years, — until the autumn of 
 1811, when I entered College. I was with him during the protracted 
 sceno of trial and conflict which terminated in his separation from his peo- 
 ple. I remember once to have been present when Judge Root came to 
 interrogate him in respect to his religious views, but the answers to his 
 inquiries were too indefinite to be satisfactory. When the Consociation of 
 Tolland County assembled to adjudicate his case, I was sitting in the gal- 
 lery with other boys of my age, and when he looked up and saw me, he 
 beckoned to me to eome down and take my seat in the pew with him, and 
 take notes of the discussions — and thus T was employed during a consid- 
 erable part of the session. When the Council from Massachusetts was to 
 be called, I went, with the consent of my father, to carry the letter missive 
 to the various clergymen invited to attend ; and when the Council con- 
 vened, I heard their deliberations at Mr. Abbot's house ; and heard their 
 result at the church ; and witnessed all the demonstrations of joy and sor- 
 row consequent upon it. I entered Yale College about the time that he 
 went to Newbury to take charge of Dummer Academy ; but I visited him 
 more than once during his residence there, as I did also in every other 
 place in which he subsequently resided ; and I can truly say that my own 
 father never gave me » more cordial welcome than I uniformly received 
 from him. My last visit to him was at Wilton, at the house of a near 
 relative, with whom he had been spending a few weeks. His home was 
 now at West Cambridge ; but as I was at Boston, and was unwil- 
 ling to return without seeing him, I made a journey to Wilton for the 
 purpose. I found him apparently in better health, and with more of men- 
 tal vigour, than for a year or two preceding ; and when we parted, there 
 was nothing apparent to render it improbable that we should meet again. 
 He lingered a week or two longer with his Wilton friends, and then, after 
 stopping a little with his only surviving sister, who lived in a neighbour- 
 ing town, he returned to his home in West Cambridge. A few weeks 
 after, a telegraphic despatch summoned me to his Funeral. 
 
 Dr. Abbot was, I think, rather above the ordinary stature, of light 
 complexion, with a bright hazel eye, and a countenance expressive of a fine 
 intellect, and a calm yet cheerful temper. His face, so far as my ob- 
 servation extended, never took on a look of anger, or peevishness, or dis- 
 content, but so easily brightened into a smile that that might almost be 
 said to be his habitual expression. And his face was no false index to his 
 character — I have never known a man of a more equable or kindly temper- 
 ament — never one who more uniformly and conscientiously refrained from 
 all harsh or hasty judgments — never one who was more bent on finding 
 apologies for those who he believed had done wrong, even when he was 
 himself the subject of it. Whatever else may be thought of his position 
 
236 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 at Coventry, all will agree that it was a deeply painful one — his brethren 
 believed, and did not hesitate to say, that they considered him as holding 
 views subversive of the faith once delivered to the saints ; but I never 
 knew him, during the whole time, betray the least sign of an embittered 
 spirit, or of jealousy, or even disquietude — on the contrary, he always, — 
 even to the close of life, 'for I think that in my very last conversation 
 with him the subject was introduced,) spoke kindly of the brethren who 
 deposed him, and said that he had never, for a moment, doubted that they 
 were influenced by honest convictions of duty, and that they suffered more 
 than he did from the course which they felt conscience-bound to take. I 
 am bound to say also that, though he well understood that my own religious 
 views were widely different from his, and that too when he had had a right 
 to expect a different result, he never manifested any less of affectionate 
 regard for me, or of interest in the success of my ministry, than if I had 
 been enlisted under the same ecclesiastical or theological banner with 
 himself. 
 
 Dr. Abbot's intellect was rather clear, sober and symmetrical, than 
 startling or brilliant. I do not think that his mind moved with great 
 rapidity — on the contrary, it was more than ordinarily cautious in coming 
 to its conclusions, and would sometimes hold an important subject in sus- 
 pense till it had gone through a protracted and patient course of investiga- 
 tion. His taste was remarkably exact, and was little tolerant of the 
 highly imaginative, especially in the pulpit. His discourses were lucidly, 
 logically and compactly constructed, always exhibiting a vein of good 
 sense, and a style of great classical precision. You might read one of his 
 sermons through, and not find a sentence that could be spared without 
 leaving a perceptible chasm, or a word, without impairing the force of the 
 sentence to which it belonged. But there would be little of a stirriDg or 
 exciting character, and no attempt to approach the emotional nature, ex- 
 cept through the deliberate workings of the intellect. So long as he 
 remained at Coventry, his preaching was chiefly of a practical character, 
 though, during the earlier years of his ministry at least, he was not com- 
 plained of for any lack of evangelical doctrine, and some of his manuscript 
 sermons, which I have read, bring out the doctrine of the pre-existence 
 and atonement of Christ with great distinctness. His manner in the 
 pulpit was serious, dignified, but unimpassioned. He read his discourses 
 closely, — rarely, I think, taking his eye from his manuscript ; but he read 
 them, as he did the Scriptures and every thing else, with the very perfec- 
 tion of accent and emphasis, and so as to leave no doubt upon any mind as 
 to the exact meaning of what he uttered. His tones in reading were as 
 much of a conversational character as the subject would allow. There 
 was a natural rigidity in his voice, and withal an impediment in his speech, 
 that interfered much with the effect of his speaking ; though this latter 
 quality was far less perceptible in the pulpit than in private intercourse. 
 
 His presence was always hailed with delight in any circle into which he 
 might fall ; for every one who looked at him felt the warmth and kindli- 
 ness of his spirit, though his powers of utterance did but little justice 
 either to his thoughts or his feelings. I have seen him thrown into a 
 company of several persons, every one of whom was greatly inferior to 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 237 
 
 himself in both talents and acquirements, and yet he would scarcely open 
 his lips, unless in direct answer to some question that was put to him. 
 There were occasions, however, when he would speak continuously, not 
 only with great propriety, but with a good degree of fluency. I remem- 
 ber to have heard his brother-in-law, Dr. Abbot, of Beverly, say that he 
 (Mr. Abbot, of Coventry) arrived at his house one evening, in the midst 
 of an unusual seriousness in his congregation, and when a number of young 
 persons had met in his parlour to be counselled in respect to their spiritual 
 interests. Mr. A., by his request, and without any time for premeditation, 
 addressed them ; and he said he could not have done it more appropriately, 
 if he had made the most mature preparation, or more fluently, if he had 
 had his manuscript before him. 
 
 Pew men were so exact in all their habits as Dr. Abbot. His domestic 
 affairs, so far as they came under his control, (and the same remark was 
 applicable to his excellent wife,) were managed with the utmost discretion 
 and carefulness ; and while there never was the semblance of parsimony, 
 neither was there the semblance of waste, exhibited in any of his house- 
 hold or financial arrangements. He was, in a high degree, benevolent 
 and public-spirited, as was evinced by the generous promptness with which 
 he responded, according to his ability, to the various claims which were 
 made upon him, but especially by his efforts in establishing two ministerial 
 libraries, — one in Wilton, his native place, — the other in Peterborough, 
 where he had his last pastorate — and it is worthy to be recorded that, in 
 each case, he took care that a considerable portion of the books should be 
 standard works in Orthodox Theology ; giving, as a reason for this, that he 
 wished that every question should be examined in the brightest possible 
 light. He seemed to have both a natural fondness and a natural adapted- 
 ness for minute details — in illustration of this, it is only necessary to 
 refer to li is History of Andover, and his Genealogy of the Abbot Family, 
 both of which works display an immense amount of careful research, and 
 the latter is the more remarkable, as being the work of a man who had 
 seen more than fourscore years. His memory, especially for facts, was one 
 of the most exact and retentive that I have ever known. It seemed as if 
 every incident in his experience, and every important event that had ever 
 come within his knowledge, was fresh to his recollection, to the very last. 
 So perfectly familiar did he show himself, in the very last conversation I 
 had with him, with all the minute circumstances attending his troubles at 
 Coventry, that I could not doubt that, even if he had had no memoranda to 
 refer to, he could have made out, from memory, a complete and perfectly 
 authentic narrative of the whole affair. What the particular type of Dr. 
 Abbot's Unitarianism was, especially in his latter years, I have no means 
 of knowing ; and I have some doubts whether he ever communicated his 
 views very explicitly to any one ; and it is quite possible that, to the last, 
 his views on certain points may not have been fully established. I have 
 reason to believe that, when he left Coventry, he was an Arian ; but what 
 changes, if any, his mind underwent afterwards, I cannot even conjecture. 
 In regard to the doctrine of retribution, I have been informed, upon un- 
 questionable authority, that he ultimately reposed in the idea of a final 
 universal restoration. 
 
238 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOSEPH H. JONES, D. D. 
 
 Philadelphia, November 4, 1861. 
 
 My dear Friend: My recollections of Dr. Abiel Abbot go back to the time 
 when I was not more than four or five years old. But I can connect him with 
 no event of my life earlier than the age of about ten. I had received an injury 
 in one of my feet, which had crippled me for a few weeks, but so soon as I 
 could venture to use it a little, I remember to have hopped across the street 
 to his house to ask him whether I was old enough to begin the study of Latin. 
 I shall never forget the pleasant surprise produced by his answer, when, in 
 his bland and encouraging manner, he told me, " Yes, — that I was not too 
 little nor too young;" and he very kindly promised to hear me recite; and 
 thus my first lessons in Latin were received from him. 
 
 The ecclesiastical troubles which occurred soon after, which resulted in his 
 withdrawing from his pastoral charge' and from the State of Connecticut, 
 deprived me of his instruction till he had become the Principal of Dummer 
 Academy, near Newburyport, Mass. In the mean time, I was under the care 
 of an amiable country Pastor, who was a very incompetent teacher of the Lan- 
 guages, and whose classical orthoepy was scandalous. On returning to Dr. 
 Abbot, I remember how his fastidious Oantabridgian ears were offended by 
 my shocking pronunciation. He seemed, at the time, to be as familiar with 
 the Greek and Latin classics as he had been twenty years before, when he 
 left the University. He was a most accurate scholar, and one of the best 
 teachers I ever knew; and some of the most distinguished graduates of Har- 
 vard College have been among his pupils. If I have ever read the classics 
 with pleasure or advantage, I owe it to the faithful and most effective drilling 
 of this most honoured son of Harvard. How many years he continued his 
 useful labours as a teacher I do not recollect; but if any student left him 
 without a critical knowlege of every branch in which he had been instructed, 
 I am sure it was not the fault of the instructor. There was the usual variety 
 of character and disposition among the students of the Academy, and our 
 excellent Preceptor had much to try his temper and patience; but his equan- 
 imity was remarkable. I do not remember that I ever saw him excited in the 
 least to anger. Being an inmate in his family, I had an opportunity of see- 
 ing him, as his habits and feelings were developed in domestic life. When out 
 of school, so much of his time was spent in study that I saw but little of him, 
 except at the time of our daily meals, or when he took his favourite exercise 
 in the garden. He was then very entertaining and instructive in his conver- 
 sation, and made it very pleasant for others to be with him. On Sabbath 
 afternoon, the boarders assembled with his family to hear a sermon read from 
 some distinguished author. The only one I recollect was Dr. Watts. Towards 
 myself the deportment of Dr. Abbot was uniformly affectionate and parental. 
 His three lovely daughters I esteemed as sisters, and had I been their bro- 
 ther, they could not have treated me with greater confidence or kindness. 
 
 During my four yeare' sojourn at Cambridge, I was always made welcome 
 to his house, as a home, whenever I had the opportunity of returning to it. 
 He was my counsellor, my helper, in many an extremity, watching for my 
 welfare with all the solicitude of a father; and I feel it due to this generous 
 and noble-minded friend to state, in this public way, that to his advice and 
 agency, in many ways, I am indebted for my classical education, especially in 
 Harvard College. He was an admirable man, — amiable, benevolent and 
 learned, but unassuming and modest. When visited with sore trials in later 
 life, he was submissive and uncomplaining. The last letter I ever received 
 from him was touching and beautiful. After speaking apologetically of << the 
 slow movements and broken thoughts and memory of an octogenarian," he 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 239 
 
 adds, — "I do not say this with » murmuring or impatient spirit, for a kind 
 Providence has allotted me a very happy old age. I enjoy good health, and 
 am in the situation as to worldly matters for which Agur so judiciously 
 prayed. With this I am free from anxiety, and perfectly contented. Loving 
 friends surround me. The only child that has been spared is with me, antici- 
 pating every want and providing every comfort. I, indeed, have the infirmi- 
 ties of old age, but these are friendly and necessary monitors, who kindly ad- 
 monish me that this is not my home, — that I must be constantly ready to 
 depart to the better and heavenly country, whither those of former genera- 
 tions and contemporaries have gone. Old age is not so gloomy and dreary as 
 the young sometimes imagine. It would be dreary indeed, were it not for the 
 bright pages of the Gospel, which have brought to light life and immortality. 
 And, in view of life, immortal life, in view of Heaven, where are the innumera- 
 ble multitudes of the redeemed and blessed, where friends are ready to greet 
 us, and Jesus will welcome us, — who would dread to put off this clayey tab- 
 ernacle with its infirmities, and be clothed with a glorious, spiritual and im- 
 mortal body? Infirmity and decay, in themselves, are unpleasant; but being 
 the appointment of our Heavenly Father, who always does that which is 
 right and for our greatest good, how can we feel otherwise than thankful, and 
 rejoice that our light and momentary afflictions are designed to work out for 
 us an exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 
 
 The last time I saw Dr. Abbot was in August, 1856. One object of my going 
 to New England was to pay my filial respects to this loved and honoured friend, 
 now advanced beyond the period of fourscore years and ten. As I entered the 
 door of his house, I saw, in the distance, a head white as snow. His hair, com- 
 paratively thin, was hanging so low as to reach his shoulders. ■ This change in 
 his hair had come upon him since my former visit, many years before; but the 
 forehead, mouth, prominent aquiline nose, and general expression of his face, 
 were very much the same. I recognized him at once, but left it for him to guess 
 the name of his visitor. This caused some delay, when he addressed me in his 
 mild, parental way, as he had done when I was a lad, more than forty years 
 before, and called me Joseph. Our interview, owing to certain circumstances, 
 was not very long, but it was mutually interesting, tender and affecting; and 
 the more so from the full conviction we both felt that it would be our last. It 
 was very gratifying to me to find that he still retained his mental faculties in 
 so much vigour, — that he remembered so many things and so accurately, cor- 
 recting a litttle mistake of mine concerning a ride to which I referred on his 
 old black horse — " No, my old black mare," he said, and recalled at once the 
 time and the occasion. I was the bearer of a letter from him to a neighbour- 
 ing minister, who was a friend of Jared Sparks, then an inmate of his family. 
 It was to inform the minister that he had procured a place for young Sparks 
 in the Academy, at Exeter, N. II., of which Dr. Abbot's brother-in-law was, 
 for so many years, the distinguished Principal. My next information concern- 
 ing this beloved friend and benefactor was that he had done with all earthly 
 objects and interests. 
 
 I was too young, while sitting under his ministry, to form any just appreci- 
 ation of the character of his preaching; but I hazard nothing in saying that 
 his sermons were always written in excellent taste, and discovered much more 
 than ordinary ability. During his residence in Coventry, and in all the trying 
 circumstances in which he was placed, his conduct was acknowledged by all, 
 not excepting those who were most grieved by his renunciation of orthodoxy, 
 to be most blameless and exemplary. 
 
 Very fraternally yours, 
 
 JOSEPH H. JONES. 
 
240 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL ABBOT SMITH. 
 
 "West Cambridge, December 14, 1863. 
 
 My dear Friend: You ask me to give you some reminiscences of my grand- 
 father, during the latter part of his life. I hardly know where to begin or 
 end in describing his vigorous and Christian old age. 
 
 "When he was nearly seventy-five years old, I began to prepare myself, 
 under his tuition, for College. I had read a large part of "Virgil already, and 
 thought that I knew a good deal of Latin; — but, after a little examination 
 into my acquirements, he set me to work on the Latin Grammar and Liber 
 Primus. And so, turning back to the very beginning, I went on under his 
 most thorough instruction, till, on entering Exeter Academy at the end of the 
 Senior year, I found that, in thoroughness of drill, I was the equal of those 
 who had enjoyed its excellent advantages through the entire three years. I 
 have never studied under a teacher more thorough and more accurate than he. 
 Indeed, it seems to me that, at this age, when most men are entering their 
 second childhood, he was in the prime of intellectual vigour. His correspond- 
 ence from this period till he was ninety years old, I have compared with that 
 of his middle age, and I find that these letters, written under the shadow of 
 fourscore and ten, are actually superior to the others in that terseness of ex- 
 pression, felicity of diction, and vigour of thought, for which he was 
 remarkable. 
 
 He was always very much interested in the subject of education, and, 
 while he was between seventy and eighty, feeling that our common schools in 
 New Hampshire were not so good as they should be, devised, as a means for 
 their improvement, a plan for the establishment of a Normal School in our 
 County. Various obstacles were overcome, and he pursued his plan till he 
 succeeded in having Trustees appointed, who were to go on and collect the. ne- 
 cessary funds. He entered into the work himself with all his heart, and per- 
 sonally visited, and held meetings, in many towns, in furtherance of his 
 object. Funds were raised, as he had proposed, sufficient to sustain the 
 school for three years; the necessary buildings, I think, were offered; — but, 
 unfortunately, the whole enterprise was given up, owing to the indifference, 
 if not secret opposition, of those who should have been its friends. 
 
 On the day he was^ighty-seven years old, he left the house where he had 
 lived for almost thirty years, and came to live with me at "West Cambridge. 
 We were anxious lest the change, at his age, might have a bad effect upon 
 him; — but he often said, — << The home is not the roof, but those who are 
 under it: here is my home." And I think, though coming thus among 
 strangers, he did not have one hour of homesickness or discontent. 
 
 His bodily health was remarkably good — he always was accustomed to 
 take much exercise. After he was ninety years old, he sawed some cords of 
 wood, and worked industriously in the garden, as had been his habit through 
 life. 
 
 Nor did he in age give up the studies of his manhood. He kept up with 
 the times in the literature of his profession, and enjoyed nothing so much as 
 some new book on Theology, or volume of Sermons. 
 
 He was much interested in Norton's volume on the Internal Evidences of 
 Christianity; and, one day, as we were reading Kane's Arctic Expedition 
 aloud, we asked him laughingly, if he did not like that as well as Norton. 
 No! Norton was the most interesting to him. 
 
 During the last winter of his life (he was then ninety-three years old) he 
 made it a point to read every day two chapters of the New Testament, criti- 
 cally, in the original Greek, and often asked me what I thought of this inter- 
 pretation, or that, of some difficult passage. In the evenings of that winter, 
 
WILLIAM EMERSON. 241 
 
 I read to him, from the original, several treatises of Cicero; among others, De 
 Oratore and De Senectute. I continued this till the last Friday before his 
 death, and I remember, on that evening, he let the usual hour of retiring go 
 by, in his interest in what was read. 
 
 Thus did he keep up his interest in the studies and pursuits of his active 
 life; and thus his mind .and heart continued growing to the -very end. 
 
 And we felt thankful that it so continued to the last — not a day even of 
 failing intellect, — of darkened mind, but that, when we must part, God called 
 him from the full possession of his faculties, in the twinkling of an eye, to 
 the upper home. 
 
 I do not know that these desultory reminiscences are what you want — ■ but, 
 such as they are, they are at your service. Yours truly, 
 
 SAMUEL ABBOT SMITH. 
 
 WILLIAM EMERSON. 
 
 1792—1811. 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Brookline, Mat 8, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir : I was well acquainted with the late Rev. William Emer- 
 son, of Boston, and think I have a tolerably just appreciation of his 
 character, as I have also considerable knowledge of his history. You need 
 not be told that it gives me pleasure to comply with your request to the 
 extent of my ability. 
 
 William Emerson was the only son of the Rev. William Emerson, 
 of Concord, and grandson of the Rev. Joseph Emerson, of Maiden. He 
 was born at Concord, on the 6th of May, 1769. Prom early life, he was 
 intended for the ministry ; and, his mother early marrying the Rev. Ezra 
 Ripley, successor to his father, his mind was easily led in that direction. 
 Though he was but seven years old when he was deprived of his father, his 
 early years were passed under the watchful eye of parental solicitude, and 
 he was preserved from the follies and vices which are but too common to 
 the period of youth. He entered Harvard College when he was in his 
 seventeenth year. His general reputation for both scholarship and deport- 
 ment, during his collegiate course, was good ; though, in one instance, he 
 came under censure of government, which issued in his being suspended 
 for a, few months, — because, as I have more than once heard him say, he 
 refused to testify in respect to the mischief of some of his fellow students. 
 He graduated in 1789; and, in the same year, delivered an Oration before 
 the Society of Phi Beta Kappa, which procured for him no little applause. 
 
 Immediately after leaving the University, he engaged in teaching a 
 school in Roxbury, where he acquitted himself much to the satisfaction of 
 his employers. Having remained there two years, he went to reside at 
 Cambridge, as a theological student ; but he had been there but a few 
 months before he commenced preaching ; and, after having, for a short 
 time, preached as a candidate at Harvard, he received a call to take the 
 Vol. VIII. 16 
 
242 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 pastoral charge of that church. This call he accepted, and was, accord- 
 ingly, ordained, May 23, 1792. 
 
 I was myself engaged for two winters in teaching a school in his parish ; 
 and, as I lived in the same family with him, I had a good opportunity of 
 learning his feelings in regard to his condition ; and I can truly say that he 
 never seemed to me to be quite at home in that place. His pulpit talents 
 were considered extraordinary ; but there was not in all respects a perfect 
 sympathy between him and his people. In 1799, he was invited to Boston 
 to preach the Artillery Election Sermon. This service he performed to 
 very great acceptance, insomuch that some of the prominent members of 
 the First Church, which was then vacant by the death of Dr. Clarke, began 
 to meditate the purpose of inviting him to become Dr. Clarke's successor. 
 The result was that that congregation almost immediately extended to him 
 a unanimous call. He had, by this time become involved in some pecuni- 
 ary difficulties, from which his people felt unable to relieve him, so that 
 they were not inclined to interpose any obstacles to his removal ; and, 
 being himself not unwilling to occupy a wider field, he accepted the call, 
 and was installed Pastor of the First Church in Boston, October 16, 1799. 
 The Sermon on the occasion was preached by his friend and college class- 
 mate, the Rev. Nathaniel Thayer, of Lancaster. This change marked an 
 important epoch in his ministry. He became a far more diligent student 
 than he had been in previous years ; and his intellect received a fresh im- 
 pulse from the new circumstances into which he was brought. 
 
 He was highly acceptable as a preacher in the pulpits of the metropolis 
 generally; and received many testimonies of public favour, in being cho- 
 se*n a member of most of the various institutions for the dispensation of 
 charity, and for the promotion of learning and the arts, which existed in 
 Boston at that day. In several of these Societies he held some important 
 office. He was the founder and active promoter of the Christian Monitor 
 Society, which issued its publications periodically for several years. In 
 1804, he undertook, in conjunction with several of his friends, a literary 
 periodical, entitled the "Monthly Anthology and Boston Review," which, 
 continued some half dozen years, and put in requisition some of the best 
 talent in New England. 
 
 In May, 1808, he was seized with a violent hemorrhage of the lungs, 
 which, for a time, threatened the speedy termination of his life. He, how- 
 ever, recovered his health, in a good degree, and was able afterwards to 
 perform nearly his accustomed amount of labour. A malady of a differ- 
 ent kind seized upon him, in the winter of 1810-11. He had great firm- 
 ness of purpose, which led him to persist in the discharge of the duties of 
 his office, against the remonstrances of friends, and even physicians, after 
 disease had evidently made the most serious inroads upon his constitution. 
 The last time he ever preached was at the Thursday Lecture, on the 14th 
 of March, on Abraham's offering up his son Isaac. I think it was the most 
 interesting and impressive discourse that I ever heard from him. 
 
 Shortly after that, it was proposed that he should try the effect of a voyage, 
 and of some milder climate. With a view to test his ability to endure the 
 contemplated voyage, he made a journey to Portland ; but returned in so 
 feeble a state as to forbid the idea of leaving home again. He soon betook 
 
WILLIAM EMERSON. A4i6 
 
 himself to Lis chamber, where he rapidly declined, till Sunday, the 12lh 
 of May, 1811, when he calmly fell asleep. His Funeral took place on the 
 16th, and the Sermon on the occasion was preached by the Rev. J. S. 
 Buckminster, from Psalm xii,l. 
 
 In his personal appearance, Mr. Emerson was much more than ordina- 
 rily attractive. He had a, melodious voice, his utterance was distinct, and 
 his whole manner in the pulpit agreeable. In his devotional exercises lie 
 was fluent and appropriate, and his language sometimes seemed premedi- 
 tated. His public discourses had the appearance of considerable elabora- 
 tion, but they were never elaborated into obscurity. He could not endure 
 that careless and desultory manner of writing of which the pulpit furnishes 
 but too many specimens. 
 
 Though Mr. Emerson valued highly the good opinion of his fellow men, 
 he was incapable of stooping to any thing disingenuous or dishonourable, in 
 order to obtain it.* And I never saw any thing in him that indicated a wish 
 to detract from the well earned reputation of his brethren. He was a 
 faithful and generous friend and knew how to forgive an enemy. 
 
 In his theological views, perhaps he went farther on the liberal side than 
 most of his brethren with whom he was associated. He was, however, 
 perfectly tolerant towards those who differed from him most widely; and I 
 observed, sometimes, that he showed them very marked attention. I know 
 not to what extent he preached his peculiar views : but I am not aware 
 that he has very definitely expressed them in any of his publications. 
 
 Mr. Emerson was married to a Miss Haskins, of Boston, who still sur- 
 vives at an advanced age. They had eight children, six of whom sur- 
 vived him. One of them, Ralph Waldo Emerson, was graduated at Har- 
 vard College in 1821, was for several years Pastor of a Church in Boston, 
 but has now retired from the ministry and is a resident of Concord. 
 
 The following is a list of Mr. Emerson's acknowleged publications : — 
 
 A Sermon preached at Harvard on the Fourth of July, 1794. A Ser- 
 mon at the Artillery Election, Boston, 1799. A Sermon before the Rox- 
 bury Charitable Society, 1800. A Sermon at the Ordination of Robinson 
 Smiley, at Springfield, Vt., 1801. An Oration pronounced at Boston, on 
 the Fourth of July, 1802. A Sermon on the Death of the Rev. Peter 
 Thatcher, D. B., 1802. A Sermon at the Ordination of Thomas Bedee,* 
 1803. A Sermon on the Death of Madam Bowdoin, 1803. A Sermon 
 before the Boston Female Asylum, 1805. A Sermon on the Death of 
 Charles Austin, 1806. A Discourse before the Humane Society, 1807. 
 The First, Second. Third and Seventh Discourses in the Fourth Number 
 of the Christian Monitor, with Prayers annexed to each Discourse. A 
 selection of Psalms and Hymns, embracing all the Varieties of Subject 
 and Metre suitable for Private Devotion and the Worship of the Churches, 
 
 * Thomas Bedee was a native of Sandwich, N. H. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1798; was ordained, and installed Pastor of the Church in Wilton, N. H., March 2, 180s • 
 was dismissed January 15, 1829; and died in 1848. He published an Oration delivered at 
 B-oxbury, on the Fourth of July, 1799 ; a Sermon delivered before a Lodge of Freemasons at 
 Lexington, Mass., 1803 : a Sermon delivered on occasion of a Masonic Celebration, at Wash- 
 ington, N. H.j 1803; the New Hampshire Election Sermon, 1811; a Masonic Discourse deliv- 
 ered at Dublin, N. H., 1816; Four Sermons, 1821. 
 
244 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 12mo, 1808. A Sermon at the Ordination of Samuel Clark,* 1810. His- 
 tory of the First Church in Boston (posthumous.) 
 
 I am with sincere regard, truly yours, 
 
 JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CHARLES LOWELL, D. D. 
 
 Elmwood, (Cambridge,) November 8, 1859. 
 
 My dear Friend: You ask me to tell you about Mr. Emerson, minister of 
 the First Church, Boston; or, as he preferred saying, "First Church," with- 
 out the article. If my memory serves me, Mr. Buckminster preached and 
 published a discourse in commemoration of him. And what do you want 
 more, you unreasonable man? " Who can come after the King?" 
 
 Mr. Emerson was a handsome man, rather tall, with a fair complexion, his 
 cheeks slightly tinted, his motions easy, graceful and gentlemanlike, his man- 
 ners bland and pleasant. He was an honest man, an<i expressed himself 
 decidedly and emphatically, but never bluntly or vulgarly. He had the organ 
 of order very fully developed — he was one of those who have " a place for 
 every thing, and every thing in its place." In that respect, he differed from 
 that admirable man, who was his classmate and friend, and my friend, and 
 one whom any one might feel proud to call his friend, John Thornton Kirk- 
 land, who never had any thing in order, but always found what was wanted; 
 whose manuscript sermons in the pulpit were in separate pieces, but he always 
 found the right piece, and that was better than almost any of his brethren 
 could have found in what they had written with twice the labour. 
 
 Mr. Emerson was a man of good sense. His conversation was edifyiDg and 
 useful; never foolish or undignified. 
 
 In his theological opinions, he was, to say the least, far from having any 
 sympathy with Calvinism. I have not supposed that he was, like Dr. Free- 
 man, a Humanitarian, though he may have been so. He was always an 
 acceptable preacher, and his delivery was distinct and correct, and was evi- 
 dently the result of much care and discipline. 
 
 I first knew Mr. Emerson as master of the Grammar School in Roxbury, 
 where my father then lived, and I early went to school. I used sometimes, 
 when we were brother ministers in Boston, playfully to remind him that he 
 was the only master who ever gave me a blow on my back with a cow-skin. 
 It was only one blow, and that, I suspect, a gentle one. But I have a vivid 
 recollection of the bench before his desk, over which I leaned to take it, and 
 almost fancy I feel it now. But, though it may have left its smart upon my 
 back, it left no smart upon my heart. I loved him while he lived, and love 
 his memory now. Your loving friend, 
 
 CHARLES LOWELL. 
 
 FROM MR. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 Concokd, 5 October, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: I fear you have the worst thoughts of me as far as the vir- 
 tues of a good correspondent go. I ought to have warned you at first that I 
 am a reprobate in that matter. Yet, I did, on the receipt of your letter, in 
 the summer, make, with my mother, some investigation into the history of 
 my father's preaching, that he might make his own answer, as you suggested, 
 to your inquiry concerning his opinions. But I did not find, in any manu- 
 
 * Samuel Clake was a native of Brookline, Mass., "was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1805 ; was ordained, and installed Pastor of a Church in Burlington, Vt., April 19, 1810 ; and 
 died in 1827. 
 
WILLIAM EMERSON. 245 
 
 script or printed sermons that I looked at, any very explicit statement of 
 opinion on the question between Calvinists and Socinians. He inclines obvi- 
 ously to what is ethical and universal in Christianity; very little to the per- 
 sonal and historical. Indeed what I found nearest approaching what would 
 be called his creed, is in a printed Sermon " at the Ordination of Mr. Bedee, 
 of Wilton, N. H." I think I observe in his writings, as in the writings of 
 Unitarians down to a recent date, a studied reserve on the subject of the 
 nature and offices of Jesus. They had not made up their own minds on it. 
 It was a mystery to them, and they let it remain so. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 E. "W. EMERSON. 
 
 The following paragraphs are from the Sermon above referred to : — 
 
 " Jesus Christ taught the doctrine of human depravity. We learn, in his religion, 
 that God has been pleased to make mankind of a compound nature ; of a nature partly 
 animal, and partly spiritual; of a nature resembling in a degree their Divine Creator, 
 and in a degree the beasts which perish. Between these two constituent parts of the 
 human nature, there is a constant variance. The flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and 
 the Spirit against the flesh, and these are contrary the one to the other. Of this fact 
 the reflecting heathens were sensible, though they could not account for it. The frail 
 Araspes, having fallen a prey to temptation, acknowledges to Cyrus that he possessed 
 two souls. ' For had I one soul only,' he says, ' it is utterly impossible, that I should 
 be, as I find myself, both virtuous and vicious; that I should love at once honourable 
 and dishonourable actions ; and that I should be willing and unwilling, at the same 
 moment, to do the same things. It is, therefore, plain that I have two souls: when 
 the good soul is in power, I am the servant of virtue ; when the bad soul predominates, 
 I am the slave of vice.' St. Paul uses similar language, when personating a character 
 uninfluenced by Christian motives. ' That which I do, I allow not, for what I would, 
 that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. For in me, that is, in my flesh,' in my 
 animal nature, ' there dwelleth no good thing; for to will is present with me; but to 
 perform that which is good I find not. For I delight in the law of God, after the 
 inward man,' as it respects my spiritual nature. But I see another law in my mem- 
 bers, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law 
 of sin, which is in my members. So then with my mind,' the superior part of my- 
 self, ' I serve the law of God ; but with the flesh,' the inferior part of myself, ' the law 
 of sin.' 
 
 " As are these principles, so their effects are diametrically opposite. Nowthe works 
 of the flesh are manifest, which are adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, 
 idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, strifes, seditions, heresies, envyings, 
 murders, drunkenness, revilings and such like. On the contrary, the fruits of the 
 Spirit are goodness, righteousness, truth, love long-suffering, gentleness, faith, meek- 
 ness, and temperance. 
 
 " At the time of Christ's advent, almost the whole world, Jews as well as Gentiles, 
 were under the dominion of their fleshly lusts, and thus were alienated from the spiritual 
 life. With reference also to the times both before and after our Saviour, there is a 
 sense in which all mankind may he said to have corrupted their way before God, by 
 imbibing hurtful principles, following sinful customs, and obeying the dictates of sen- 
 sual appetite. Different degrees of human depravity are discernible at different 
 epochs of time; but in every age the kingdom of Satan, which is the Slavery of man 
 to sense and passion, has existed in our world. What period or country was ever free 
 from the sin of serving the creature to the neglect of the Creator ? What community 
 ever existed, which did not contain ignorant men, who might be deluded, and artful 
 men to delude them; men sufficiently impudent to offer bribes, and men venal enough 
 to take them; men brutal enough to make a god of sensuality, and others diabolical 
 enough to rejoice in the practice of such voluptuousness ? Where is the church, which 
 never embraced in its bosom some ambitious Dintrephes, some careless Archippus, or 
 a scandalous member ? In what family have parents been uniformly just, and child- 
 ren uniformly obedient; masters always kind, and servants always faithful ? Nay, 
 where is the heart, which has not sometimes cherished within itself the seeds of every 
 vice which deforms and disgraces the human character ? 
 
 "This doctrine of human depravity then, whose truth is sanctioned by universal 
 observation and experience, is a doctrine of the Christian revelation, and he who 
 preaches it, preaches Jesus Christ and Him crucified. 
 
 " Jesus Christ taught the restoration of mankind to virtue and happiness through 
 his instrumentality. For this purpose the son of God was manifested, that He might 
 
246 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 destroy the works of the devil. By his instructions He dispels the errors which over- 
 shaded the human mind; by his precepts and exhortations He imparts new energy to 
 the commands of reason, assisting it to regain its iost dominion over animal nature; 
 and by his sufferings and death, He proves the inherent and unchangeable mercy of 
 God, moves sinful men to penitence and reformation, and thence expiates their guilt, 
 and procures them the pardon of sin, and a title to celestial felicity. These are among 
 the gracious words which fell from his lips. ' The Son of man is come to save that 
 which was lost.' ' God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son ; that 
 whosoever believeth on Him should not perish but have everlasting life.' ' This is my 
 blood, which was shed for many for the remission of sins.' Those who were acquainted 
 with the character of Christ, and divinely authorized to publish his doctrine, call Him 
 the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the world; and assert that, Him 
 hath God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour to give repentance 
 and remission of sins. He, therefore, who preaches the doctrine of Christ's Mediation, 
 preaches Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. 
 
 " Jesus Christ taught the necessity of faith, repentance, and holiness, in order to 
 receive and enjoy the blessings of the Gospel Never did a religion so much insist on 
 the importance of virtue as the religion of Christ. It subordinates every rite and 
 every name to the attainment of holiness. What is circumcision or uncircumcision, 
 what are fasts or feasts, but beggarly elements, compared with keeping the command- 
 ments of Christ? Who is Paul, who is Apollos, and who is Cephas, but instruments 
 of sanctifying those for whom Christ died? The enlightened preacher therefore applies 
 all the doctrines and ordinances of the Gospel to excite the faith, repentance and holi- 
 ness of his hearers; and, in so doing, he evidently preaches Jesus Christ, and Him 
 crucified. 
 
 " Jesus Christ assured mankind of their resurrection from the dead. To confirm 
 this momentous truth, He voluntarily laid down his life, took it again, and broke the 
 prison of the grave, thence becoming the first fruits of them that slept. This is em- 
 phatically the doctrine of a crucified Jesus. 
 
 " The same sacred Teacher promulged the doctrine of a general judgment at the bar 
 of God in these awful words: — ' When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all 
 the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of his glory; and before 
 Him shall be gathered all nations; and He shall separate them one from another, as a 
 shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats.' His apostles foretell the same event. It 
 is their general voice that we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that 
 every one may receive the deeds done in his body, according to that he hath done, 
 whether it be good or bad. And, finally, it is a doctrine of the Gospel that vicious 
 and incorrigible men will then go into a state of condemnation and misery, and the 
 righteous into a state of glorification and bliss. In preaching, therefore, these doc- 
 trines, a minister preaches Jesus Christ and Him crucified; because they were the 
 doctrines of Jesus Christ, and because He suffered himself to be crucified, as an ever- 
 lasting proof that He received them from God." 
 
 NATHANIEL THAYER, D.D.* 
 
 1792—1840. 
 
 Nathaniel Thayer was born in Hampton, N. H., July 11, 1769. 
 His father was the Piev. Ebenezer Thayer, who was a native of BostoD ; 
 was graduated at Harvard College in 1753, was settled as Pastor of the 
 Church in Hampton in 1766, and died in 1792, at the age of fifty-eight. 
 His mother, a lady of remarkable energy of character, was a daughter of 
 the Rev. John Cotton, of Newton, and a lineal descendant of the cele- 
 brated John Cotton, the first minister of Boston. It is remarkable that 
 he belonged to a family on the mother's side, in which there had been an 
 uninterrupted succession of clergymen for nearly two hundred and thirty 
 years, and among them some of the greatest lights of the New England 
 pulpit. 
 
 * Dr. Hill's Pun. Serm.— Ms. from Rev. C. T. Thayer. 
 
NATHANIEL THAYER. 247 
 
 His early years were passed under the parental roof, and were marked 
 by an unusual freedom from youthful follies, by great propriety of deport- 
 ment, and a thirst for useful knowledge. At a suitable age, he was sent to 
 Phillips Academy, Exeter, and belonged to the first class of pupils ever 
 offered by that institution to Harvard College. He carried with him to 
 College an unspotted moral character, and preserved it during his residence 
 there. He graduated with distinguished honour, in 1789, in the same 
 class with President Kirkland. 
 
 Immediately after he had completed his college course, he took charge 
 of the Grammar School in Medford, and, at the same time, commenced 
 the study of Theology, under the direction of the llev. Dr. Osgood, the 
 minister of the parish within which he resided. Having remained at Med- 
 ford a year, he returned to Cambridge, and continued his theological 
 studies, under the Rev. Dr. Tappan, then Professor of Divinity in the 
 College. He held the office of Tutor in College for about one year. 
 Soon after being licensed to preach, he spent the greater part of a year at 
 Wilkosbarre, Pa., supplying the congregation there, during which time he 
 ■was an inmate of the family of the Hon. Timothy Pickering, Secretary of 
 War. This was a period of great interest to him, and he retained a vivid 
 and grateful recollection of the acquaintances which he then formed, and 
 of many events which then occurred, till the close of life. 
 
 On his return to Massachusetts, he preached, for a short time, to the 
 New South Church, Boston, and a considerable portion of the congrega- 
 tion were strongly in favour of extending to him a call. He preached 
 also, for a while, at Dorchester, but declined to be considered a candi- 
 date. In the summer of 1793, he commenced preaching to the Church 
 and Society in Lancaster, then under the pastoral care of the Rev. 
 Timothy Harrington. After the usual term of probation, he received a 
 unanimous call to settle as Colleague-pastor, and was ordained and installed 
 on the 9th of October following, the sermon on the occasion being preached 
 by his theological instructor, the Rev. Dr. Osgood. His venerable col- 
 league, at the time, was languishing u,nder the power of disease, in con- 
 nection with the infirmities incident to old age. After the public services 
 were over, as his youthful associate was passing by with his parishioners 
 and friends, the old man was borne to the gate of his dwelling, and placed 
 upon his head his trembling hand, invoking upon him the special blessing 
 of Heaven. Mr. Harrington lived about two years after this, and, at his 
 death, Mr. Thayer succeeded to the sole charge of the flock. 
 
 Here he continued, greatly esteemed by his congregation, and respected 
 by the community at large, till the close of life. He was universally 
 regarded as a man of great tact and sagacity ; and it was probably on this 
 account that his services were put in requisition for the settlement of eccle- 
 siastical difficulties, more frequently than those of almost any other man 
 of his day. In the course of his ministry, he was a member of no less 
 than one hundred and fifty ecclesiastical councils ; and the results of these 
 councils were frequently drawn up by himself. 
 
 He preached the Artillery Election Sermon in 1798, and the Annual Ser- 
 mon before the Legislature of Massachusetts in 1823. He was honoured 
 with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard College in 1817. 
 
248 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 "When Lafayette made his tour through this country, in 1825, Dr. 
 Thayer was requested to address him in behalf of the inhabitants of Lan- 
 caster. He performed the service with great appropriateness, and in ex- 
 cellent taste, and concluded his address with these words — " It is especi- 
 ally our prayer that in that day in which the acclamations and applauses 
 of dying men shall cease to reach or affect you, you may receive from the 
 Judge of character, and Dispenser of imperishable honours, as the reward 
 of philanthropy and incorruptible integrity, a crown of life which will 
 never fade." The General is said to have exhibited no inconsiderable 
 emotion, when these words were uttered, and, some years after his return 
 to France, he referred to the occasion and the Address with great interest. 
 
 Dr. Tiber's vigour of body and mind continued, in an unusual degree, 
 to old age. Though with a single exception, he was the oldest Congrega- 
 tional clergyman in the State, having the sole charge of a parish, he never 
 intermitted any of his accustomed labours to \ie last. In the early part 
 of Juoe. 1840, being somewhat debilitated by the labours of the preced- 
 ing spring, he set out to travel with a view to recruit his energies. He 
 travelled Westward, and expressed great gratification with every thing that 
 he saw and experienced on his journey. After passing a week at Saratoga 
 Springs, he pursued his course towards Niagara Falls, and reached Ptochester 
 on the 22d of the month. In the evening he retired at his usual hour, 
 and in his usual health, but, at two o'clock, the next morning, June 23d, 
 he was a corpse. His daughter, who was his travelling companion, was at 
 his bedside just in time to receive his dying request. The event, when it 
 came to be known, produced no small sensation in the town. Every atten- 
 tion was proffered to the bereaved daughter, and Dr. Whitehouse, the 
 Episcopal clergyman, offered to open his church for Funeral solemnities. 
 His remains were carried back to Lancaster, and buried on the 29th, in 
 the midst of his people. The Funeral Sermon was preached by the Kev. 
 Alonzo Hill, of Worcester, and was published. 
 
 He was married, October 22, 1795, to Sarah, daughter of the Hon. 
 Christopher Toppan, of his native village. They had eight children, five 
 of whom, with their mother, survived their father. One of them, Chris- 
 topher Toppan, was graduated at Harvard College in 1821, and succeeded 
 Dr. Abbot as Pastor of the Unitarian Society in Beverly. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Thayer's publications : — 
 
 A Sermon ou the Annual Fast, 1795. A Sermon at the Funeral of his 
 Colleague, Eev. Timothy Harrington, 1795. A Discourse before a Lodge 
 of Freemasons, 1797. An Artillery Election Sermon, 1798. A Sermon 
 at the Ordination of Elihu Whitcomb,* 1799. A Sermon at the Installa- 
 tion of the Per. William Emerson, Boston, 1799. A Sermon at the Or- 
 dination of John Sabin, at Fitzwilliam, N. H., 1805. A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of Samuel Willard,t Deerfield, 1807. A Sermon on the 
 
 * Elihu Whitcomb was a native of Boston; was graduated at Harvard College in 1793; 
 was ordained at Saeo, Me., July 3, 1799; was dismissed in October, 1810; and died March 
 17, 1S25. 
 
 t Samdel Willard, ason of William and Catharine (Wilde) Willard, was horn at Peters- 
 ham, Mass., April 18, 1776. He was brought up on his father's farm, and did not com- 
 mence his preparation for College till he was twenty-one years of age; and the reason of his 
 going to College at all was that, about that time, he received an injury in his back, which 
 disabled him, in a great degree, for agricultural labour. He entered Harvard College in 
 
NATHANIEL THAYER. 249 
 
 National Fast, 1812. A Sermon at the Interment of the Rev. Francis 
 Gardner,* Leominster, 1814. A Sermon on Leaving the Old Church at 
 Lancaster, 1816. A Sermon on Entering the New Church at Lancaster, 
 1817. A Sermon at the Funeral of Henry Bromfield, Esq., of Harvard, 
 1820. The Massachusetts Election Sermon, 1823. A Sermon at the 
 Installation of the Rev. Winthrop Bailey, at Greenfield, 1825. A Sermon 
 on Revivals of Religion, published in the Liberal Preacher, 1827. A Ser- 
 mon at the Dedication of the New Church in Stow, 1827. A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of William H. White,! at Littleton, 1828. A Discourse de- 
 livered at Townsend, 1828. A Discourse at the Ordination of A. D. 
 
 1799, and graduated in 1803, at the age of twenty-seven, — the oldest in his class. In June 
 following, he went to Exeter, as an assistant to Dr. Abbot in the Academy, and continued 
 there nearly a year and a half; during which time bis attention was directed somewhat to 
 Theology, but chiefly to the classics. He was then placed on a foundation, in connection 
 with the Academy, for the aid of theological students; and prosecuted his studies, for a few 
 weeks, partly under Dr. Buckminster, of Portsmouth, and partly under Dr. Appleton, of 
 Hampton. He was now invited to a Tutorship in Bowdoin College — he accepted it, and 
 entered upon its duties in October, 1804. Here he remained for a year, meanwhile carrying 
 forward his theological studies under Dr. McKeen, President of the College. He returned to 
 Cambridge in September, 1805, and, after continuing his studies there about two months, 
 was licensed to preach by the Cambridge Association. He remained at Cambridge till the 
 latter part of the year 1806, preaching as opportunity offered, and then took up his residence 
 in Andover, making that his head-quarters till March, 1807, when he was applied to, to visit 
 Deerfield. He yielded to the request; and, after preaching there several Sabbaths, received 
 a nearly unanimous call, which, in due time, he accepted. The Council met for his Ordina- 
 tion on the 10th of August; but the majority, not being satisfied with his religious views, 
 declined to proceed with the Ordination. Another Council was called, however, and the Ordi- 
 nation actually took place on the 23d of September following. A considerable number of the 
 members of the church withdrew, and connected themselves with other churches in the neigh- 
 bourhood. In 1813, Mr. Willard was invited to assist at the Ordination of Mr. Olds at Green- 
 field; but several of the ministers refused to he thus associated with him, and therefore the 
 services did not, at that time, proceed. This led to the publication of several pamphlets on 
 both sides, involving not only the Greenfield case, but the previous one at Deerfield, of which 
 Mr. Willard had been the more immediate subject. About the close of 1818, his sight sud- 
 denly failed him, so that, from that time, he never attempted to read a sermon in the pulpit; 
 though he continued to preach, without writing, till the twenty-second anniversary of his 
 Ordination, which occurred in 1829, when he resigned his pastoral charge. He was chosen a 
 member of the Academy of Arts and Sciences about 1815; and was honoured with the degree 
 of Doctor of Divinity, from Harvard College, in 1826. After resigning his charge, he re- 
 moved with his family to Hingham., where he was connected with his son-in-law, for about 
 three years, in conducting a school. In the spring of 1S35, he removed from Hingham to 
 Concord, where he remained a year, and in March, 1836, returned to Deerfield, and there 
 spent the remainder of his life. His general health, during the greater part of this time, 
 was good, and he rarely declined preaching, when called upon. He died on the 8th of Octo- 
 ber, 1859. He was married on the 30th of May, 180S, to Susan, daughter of Dr. Joshua 
 Barker, of Hingham. They -had three children, — one son and two daughters. The son 
 (Samuel) was graduated at Harvard College in 1835. The following is a list of Dr. Willard's 
 publications : — An Oration on the Fourth of July, at Brunswick, Me., 1805. A Sermon at 
 the Opening of the Northampton Bridge, 1808. A Sermon at a Musical Lecture, Greenfield, 
 1811. A Small Spelling Book, 1814. A Musical Lecture on Health, 1815. A Sermon at 
 the Dedication of the New Church, Brattleboro', Vt., 1816. Kudiments of English Gram- 
 mar, 1817. A Sermon at the Funeral of Royal Smith, at Rowe, 1820. A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of Luther Hamilton, Taunton, 1821. A Volume of Original Hymns, 1823. A 
 Sermon at the Dedication of the New Church in Deerfield, 182-1. The Charge to the Rev. 
 Winthrop Bailey, Deerfield, 1825. Index to the Bible with Juvenile Hymns, 1826. Frank- 
 lin Primer — a School-book, 1826. Improved Reader, 1827. General Class Book, 1828. 
 Essays on Philosophy of Instruction, 1829. Valedictory Sermon at Deerfield, 1829. A Col- 
 lection of Hymns, 1830. A Treatise on Rhetoric and Elocution, 1830. Popular Reader, 
 1833. Introduction to the Latin Language, 1835. Memorial of the Rev. Daniel B. Park- 
 hurst, 1842. The Grand Issue — a Pamphlet of Slavery, 1851. Besides the above, nre three 
 controversial pamphlets, in connection with the ecclesiastical troubles already referred to. 
 
 * Francis Gardner was a native of Stow, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1755; was ordained at Leominster, December 22, 1762; and died June 2, 1814, aged seventy- 
 eight. 
 
 f William Hunt White was born in Lancaster, Mass., February 4, 1798 ; was graduated 
 at Brown University in 1824; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Littleton, 
 Mass., January 2, 1828; and died in 1853. 
 
250 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Jones, at Hubbardston, 1828. A Thanksgiving Discourse, 1828. A 
 Discourse at the Ordination of his Son, C. T. Thayer, at Beverly, 1830. 
 An Address at the Berry Street Conference, 1831. 
 
 I had myself an acquaintance with Dr. Thayer, which commenced in 
 the year 1811, and was continued till the close of his life. I saw him first 
 when he was a member of the Second Council at Coventry, in the case of 
 the Rev. Abiel Abbot. He was Scribe of the Council, and a very active 
 and influential member. I remember his reading the result with a voice 
 of great compass and mellowness, with a somewhat uniform tone and a re- 
 markably distinct enunciation. I always found him gentlemanly, commu- 
 nicative, and, at his own house, extremely hospitable. He left the im- 
 pression upon me that he was an uncommonly shrewd observer and judge 
 of human character, and withal a man of great natural benevolence. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, D. D. 
 
 Deerfield, September 17, 1851. 
 
 Dear Sir : Dr. Thayer was, for many years, one of my intimate friends, 
 and my impressions of him are so distinct that it costs me no trouble to com- 
 municate them. I knew him first, I think, in the y^ar 1797, when I went to 
 Lancaster, where my mother's family resided, and was examined by him in 
 respect to my qualifications to teach a district school. He subsequently super- 
 intended my studies for admission t& College; and, from that time to the close 
 of his life, I was on terms of great intimacy with him, and we not unfre- 
 quently exchanged visits. 
 
 Dr. Thayer was in stature rather below the medium height, and, in his ear- 
 lier years, was of a spare habit, though he accumulated flesh with advancing 
 life. He had an open, generous face, which seemed at once to invite confi- 
 dence and proffer offices of good will. His manners were uncommonly bland 
 and amiable, and yet were far from lacking dignity. He was always welcome 
 to every social circle, and persons of all ages and classes seemed to enjoy his 
 company. More than most men, he was attentive to those little courtesies of 
 life, in which is centered so much of human enjoyment. Not even a little 
 child would be long in his presence without feeling that he was in a region of 
 bright sunshine. 
 
 Dr. Thayer's mind was symmetrical and well-balanced, rather than marked 
 by»any extraordinary or startling qualities. I should say, however, that the 
 preponderating quality was good judgment in connection with a quick percep- 
 tion of the motives and principles of human conduct. While he was charac- 
 teristically frank, in the expression of his opinions, his frankness never dege- 
 nerated into rashness, but, on the contrary, was associated with an uncom- 
 mon measure of discretion. In the course of his ministry, he was, several 
 times, placed in circumstances of great delicacy, — once in connection with 
 some political movements in his parish, and once, or perhaps 1 more than once, 
 in connection with the discipline of some prominent members of his church; 
 but, owing to his uncommon tact and skill, he came out unscathed. It was a 
 remarkable testimony to his prudence and popularity, that, until near the 
 close of his life, all the inhabitants of the large town of Lancaster had 
 remained united under his ministry; and when a secession finally took place, 
 it was altogether on the ground of a difference of religious opinion. 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. Thayer had some fine qualifications. His voice was one 
 of the best, — clear, melodious and commanding; and his enunciation was 
 remarkably distinct; but he had a measured cadence which gave to his man- 
 ner somewhat of an air of uniformity. His appearance was highly dignified, 
 
NATHANIEL THAYER. 251 
 
 approaching perhaps to an air of stateliness. He uttered himself with great 
 solemnity, and not unfrequently with considerable pathos. He did not often 
 preach upon doctrinal points, but dwelt chiefly on the practical precepts of the 
 New Testament. I do not remember ever to have heard more than one Sermon 
 from him that could be considered in' any sense controversial; a^d that was 
 nothing more than a simple statement of the doctrines of the Unitarian School. 
 
 As to his particular views in regard to the person of Christ, I think I may 
 safely say that he was an Arian; but, in respect to this and kindred subjects, 
 1 need not speak, as the following extract from a Sermon which he preached 
 at the ordination of the Eev. Abner D. Jones, at Hubbardston, is sufficiently 
 explicit to supersede the necessity of any further notice of his religious opin- 
 ions. 
 
 " Next in order, to invite our contemplation is the Scriptural account of a 
 Saviour. We will commence our remarks with a general description of the 
 state of the world, which, to human view, rendered some remarkable inter- 
 position of Heaven highly important, that the people who then lived might be 
 enlightened and regenerated. The inhabitants of the earth were, in regard to 
 religious knowledge, in intellectual darkness, and they needed a great light. 
 They were in sin, and needed redemption from its bondage. They were 
 exposed to death, and wanted instruction in the great doctrine of a resurrec- 
 tion and a future life. To remedy these evils in their condition a Saviour 
 was appointed. Who was the Saviour ? He was"the Son of God; had a 
 derived, dependant and subordinate existence; had the Spirit without mea- 
 sure; and was endowed with every qualification for the fulfilment of his medi- 
 atorial duty. In the midst of a corrupt world, He was holy, harmless and 
 undefiled. Exposed to provocations and injuries, He was forbearing and for- 
 giving. His great errand was to proclaim the mercy of God to all who are 
 truly humble. 
 
 " There was a peculiar significancy in his sufferings and death; not as ren- 
 dering satisfaction to Divine justice; not as a means of appeasing the anger 
 of an offended Deity; not as a method of reconciling a Being who was always 
 plenteous in mercy and ready to forgive. These sufferings and death were to 
 have the highest moral influence. They were to exhibil»the magnanimity and 
 worth of the intrepid, the Divine sufferer. They were to impress all who 
 come to a knowledge of them with the worth of the beings for whose reco- 
 very and salvation such immense means were used. Nor was this all. He 
 has herein held out, as was never before exhibited, an example of patience 
 "under sufferings; submission to the Divine will; and triumph in the immedi- 
 ate view of death and eternity. * * * * 
 
 << The question is not unfrequently asked, Do these Christians believe 
 in the doctrine of regeneration ? Do they admit the necessity of a change of 
 heart ? Do they give full credence to that prominent declaration of the Re- 
 deemer, — < Except a man be born again he cannot see the Kingdom of God." 
 
 These questions relate to a subject in its nature too solemn, to a property of 
 the Christian character too valuable, not to receive a direct and full answer. 
 
 << The figure used by our Saviour had for its primary design to represent a 
 change from one religion to another. Nicodemus, who was a Jew, if born 
 again, would become a loyal subject of the Kingdom of Christ. This figure, 
 the phrases, < new creature,' ' born of the Spirit,' and others of a similar 
 import, have a general application. They denote a change of spirit and char- 
 acter, corresponding to the moral and religious deficiencies of the person who 
 is the subject of it. A man, unsound, unstable, corrupt in his principles or 
 views, if regenerated, will be restored to soundness, stability, purity. A 
 man, habituated to any vice, abandons that vice, and becomes exemplary for 
 the opposite virtue. A man, in the confirmed indulgence of any corrupt 
 
252 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 affection or passion, regulates or changes his affections, subdues his passions, 
 and becomes eminent for chasteness and purity. A man, who has estranged 
 himself from the ways of God, and has no relish for devotional meditations 
 and exercises, becomes disposed and prepared to hold communion with the 
 Father of his spirit. He diligently employs himself in acquiring a moral fit- 
 ness for th'e scenes to which he is destined as an accountable and immortal 
 being. 
 
 " Regeneration, in this view of it, is a reasonable doctrine. We do not 
 represent it as an exercise of the imagination, feelings or passions, but as a 
 radical, full, entire change of heart and character. We speak of the man as 
 regenerated, who has imbibed the Spirit of Christ; who has modelled his life 
 after the life of Christ, by walking even as He also walked. "We describe the 
 man as in a regenerated state, who aims to relinquish all his corrupt attach- 
 ments, to become holy in heart and life, and all manner of conversation. 
 
 " Do all men need to be changed, to be converted ? We may satisfactorily 
 answer this question by inquiring where are the Christians, who have no impure 
 motives, sinful propensities, unrestrained appetites, untamed passions ? Where 
 are the Christians who have not occasional indifference, lukewarmness and lan- 
 guor in their religion ? Where are the Christians who have uniformly the ac- 
 tive, decided, persevering conformity to the dictates of conscience and the will of 
 God, which the Gospel requires? Where are the Christians who have no just 
 apprehensions lest the love of the world, and the pursuit of its precarious 
 joys, do sometimes gain the ascendancy over a concern for religion and the soul? 
 Little doubt can remain whether, in some qualities of the mind, heart and 
 character, all men need change and improvement. * * 
 
 " The subject of human depravity has, in all ages busily occupied the mind 
 of Christians. It has caused us to contemplate it with more than common 
 solicitude to arrive at the truth, that it may be clearly and confidently stated. 
 In what condition do human beings come into the world ? Are they sinful 
 or holy? I answer that, in a positive sense, they are neither. They have no 
 moral or religious character. This character is to be the result of discipline. 
 It may be asked, if the human race come into the world in a moral view, thus 
 entirely destitute, if they cannot, in strictness of language, be called either 
 virtuous or vicious, how are we to account for the deep and general depra- 
 vity of the world? Can this be accounted for but upon the idea that we come 
 into the world actual and aggravated sinners? Look abroad, and you will 
 neither doubt the existence of this depravity, nor the adequateness of the 
 means for producing it. Evil passions, ungoverned appetites, immoderate 
 desires, vices, crimes of every description, will be seen to exist, and alarm- 
 ingly to abound. We do not dispute the tendency of reasonable beings to sin; 
 that they have a moral capacity and constitution, which may be influenced, 
 directed, moulded to all which is corrupt and wicked. Imagine that the moral 
 capacity is such as I have described, and then ask yourselves whether there be 
 not in the negligence and positive faults of parents; in the defects of domestic 
 education; in the demoralizing instructions and counsels which are given; in 
 the corrupt associations which are formed; in the temptations to sin which 
 assail us from all quarters; sufficient to account for the wrong bias and evil 
 direction of the mind; for the awful perversion and misapplication of talents, 
 for the universal depravation and wickedness of many lives. In these ways 
 do I account, and I think with the highest reason, for the wickedness of the 
 world. #*##*##*# 
 
 << Having spoken of the depravity of the world, and assigned sufficient rea- 
 sons for it, the transition is natural to exhibit a scriptural account of the sanc- 
 tions of religion. 
 
 " It is too notorious to be disputed, — the instruction comes from nature, 
 
NATHANIEL THAYER. 253 
 
 reason and revelation, — that there is in iniquity a direct and certain ten- 
 dency to infelicity and misery. The child who is intractable, disobedient, 
 perverse, immediately reaps some of the wages, — the punishment of this 
 intractableness, disobedience, perverseness. The youth, accustomed to a dis- 
 orderly, vicious, profligate course, never fails, in disgrace, mortification 
 and various evils, to receive a dreadful recompense for his violations of moral 
 propriety and order. The adult, likewise, who resists the monitions of con- 
 science, debases his mind by sensuality and excess; is regardless of the dis- 
 tinction between moral good and evil; has a punishment awaiting him from 
 which he cannot, by any industry, wariness or art, escape. There is nothing 
 in death to check or destroy the tendency of virtue to happiness, or of vice to 
 misery. There is nothing in the eternal world which encourages a hope of 
 exemption from the threatened penalties of habitual transgression. I know 
 of no system in relation to the sanctions of religion, to the nature, tendency 
 and consequences of both sin and holiness, which has in it any thing of rea- 
 son, which gathers any strength from observation, experience, or the word of 
 God, other than that which teaches and establishes the following great, funda- 
 mental, unalterable principles. While men are habitually virtuous and holy, 
 it is a reasonable expectation, and receives encouragement from the best sources 
 of knowledge and faith, that they will be happy. When they are wilful and 
 habitual violators of th,e laws of human society and God, and continue 
 impenitent, they are, and will be miserable." 
 
 Such were Dr. Thayer's religious opinions as set forth by himself. I will 
 only add that I am Very sincerely yours, 
 
 SAMUEL WILLARD. 
 
 FROM MISS ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 Boston, September 20, 1854. 
 
 My dear Sir: I became acquainted with Dr. Thayer in 1820, when I went 
 to Lancaster with my father's family, with the intent of keeping school there; 
 and in him, for the only time in my life, saw the ideal of an old fashioned 
 New England clergyman. 
 
 Dr. Thayer lived in a plain parsonage, made gorgeous by a front yard, 
 which was an avenue of beautiful elms meeting over the plain green grass- 
 plat before the door, in that most transcendent natural arch which is made 
 by corresponding rows of what Southey so finely calls «< the lady of the for- 
 est." On one side was a large garden, which Dr. Thayer cultivated with his 
 own hands; having, ever since his settlement, then some forty years, risen at 
 four o'clock in the morning to work in it. It was quite the fashion in Lan- 
 caster to rise early, and I often made a call on him in his garden at five 
 o'clock in the morning, although I walked nearly two miles to enjoy the 
 pleasure. 
 
 After breakfast, he always went to his study, and his first business in the 
 week was to write a sermon, which was always characterized by excellent 
 sense, and delivered with much impressiveness, in a rich round voice, that 
 sounded like thunder in the pew under the pulpit, where I sat. He never, I 
 believe, wrote but one a week. 
 
 But it was in his more private relations to his people that Dr. Thayer was 
 most interesting. Lancaster, the village of elms, and one of the loveliest 
 spots in Massachusetts, was so large that he had to ride many miles to make 
 his parish calls; and this visiting was the business of most of his summer 
 days. I sometimes rode with him, and he would stop every time he met any 
 one, and have a few words. He was the counsellor of every family; for this 
 old township was then an undivided parish, all whose inhabitants attended 
 
254 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 his church, except a few Swedenborgians. Nearly every afternoon during the 
 whole winter he devoted to visiting the schools, being always on the School 
 Committee. 
 
 Dr. Thayer had great prudence as well as great kindness, and seemed to 
 disarm and control all troubling passions. He was thoroughly respected, 
 and had great influence, although modesty and reserve were very strong char- 
 acteristics. 
 
 He was one of the first — if not the first — minister in Massachusetts, 
 who, immediately on his Ordination, called the church together, and cast 
 out the two old Puritan creeds, which had been the conditions, the one of 
 having children baptized, and the other of receiving the Communion, and 
 substituted a platform which a, Unitarian could subscribe, as it proposed 
 only faith in Christ, leaving every one to define this according to his private 
 judgment. He told me the change was made with very little disputing, and 
 no serious opposition. He had great pleasure in his undivided parish, and 
 seemed in it like a patriarch. After 1 left Lancaster, another church was 
 formed, by means of (Jalvinistic preaching, on the borders of Bolton and Lan- 
 caster; but although this was a trial to him, it never led him to sacrifice 
 either his courtesy or his dignity. 
 
 Some people said Dr. Thayer was cold in his temperament, and called his 
 self-command policy. I do not think this was just, and I was intimately 
 acquainted with him at a period of life when want of glow is considered 
 almost a crime. He was reserved and modest, but I think perfectly coura- 
 geous and straight forward, and felt himself so clear in his great office that 
 he could afibrd to be gentle and courteous. I do not think he had any lust 
 of power, but exercised that influence which nature and conscientious self- 
 culture gave him, with sole reference to the well-being of those who were 
 within his sphere of duty. My first conversation with him was an account, 
 on my own part, of some sermons I had, within a short time, heard from Dr. 
 Channing. I poured out my enthusiastic delight at their artistic beauty, as 
 well as what seemed to me their profound religious truth; and I believe I won 
 his heart with my warmth. I never remember his countenance that it was not 
 beaming with feeling. Yours very truly, 
 
 ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 WILLIAM WELLS, D. D. 
 
 1793—1827. 
 FROM WILLIAM WELLS, ESQ. 
 
 Cambridge, January 10, 1850. 
 My dear Sir : According to your request and my promise, I proceed to 
 give you such a sketch of the life and character of my father as it is in 
 my power to furnish. 
 
 William Wells was born at Biggleswade, Bedfordshire, England, in 
 the year 1714. His ancestors were respectable farmers. His father died 
 while he was yet an infant, and his mother, when he was in his ninth 
 year. Thus he and three sisters were left orphans at a very early age ; I 
 believe, with little property. 
 
 His sisters all married and lived at Bedford. They were all excellent 
 women and greatly respected. One of them was the wife of Mr. John 
 
WILLIAM WELLS. 255 
 
 Kilpin. " He was a man of the strictest honour and integrity. A larger 
 acquaintance with the world has confirmed my early opinion of his uncom- 
 mon excellence. For several years, I had the opportunity of observing 
 his daily walk and conversation, and I declare that I consider it as one of 
 the greatest blessings of my life to have had such a man for my friend, and 
 such an example before me. My aunt was worthy to be the wife of such a 
 man." * Mr. Kilpin was a leading member of the Old Meeting at Bed- 
 ford. This Society, founded by John Bunyan, was then and still is very 
 flourishing. The celebrated John Howard and Mr. Whitbread were mem- 
 bers of it, and friends of my uncle. 
 
 My father resided with his uncle, Ebenezer Custerson, a respectable 
 farmer, at Cardington, near Bedford. Here also lived Mr. Howard. I 
 have seen letters from Mr. H. to Mr. C. written while upon his travels in 
 Turkey on the Crimea. 
 
 My father was prepared for the Academy by the Rev. S. Sanderson, of 
 Bedford. He had an extraordinary regard for this gentleman. I remem- 
 ber, when I was looking in a book which contained Mr. S's autograph, he 
 put his finger upon it, and said very impressively, — " My son, I charge 
 you never to erase this name." I have heard he was aided in his academi- 
 cal education by Mr. Howard, whose friendship he always retained, and 
 whose house he visited whenever he went to Bedford. 
 
 The Christian ministry was his early choice and determination. In the 
 year 1766, he went to the Academy at Daventry, where he resided the 
 usual time. At that period, this Institution was under the care of the 
 Bev. Mr. Caleb Ashworth, the immediate successor of Dr. Doddridge. Mr. 
 A. held a high place in the estimation of the Dissenting Body. Though 
 inferior in genius to his eminent predecessor, he probably excelled him in 
 learning, as he certainly did in dignity and authority, so necessary in the 
 government of young men. This Academy was then in high repute 
 among the Dissenters ; the students were numerous ; and many of them 
 subsequently much distinguished. Doctors Kippis, Enfield, and Priestley 
 preceded my father. Thomas Belsham and Samuel Palmer were Bedford 
 men, and his fellow-students. Mr. B. Carpenter was also of his own 
 standing, afterwards his brother-in-law, and settled near him at Stour- 
 bridge. I should be too prolix, did I interrupt my narrative to speak of 
 this learned and excellent man. Job Orton was an assistant to Dr. Dod- 
 dridge. Whether he remained with his successor I am not certain. He 
 was an eminent person. I remember him well when, driven by age 
 and infirmity from his pastoral labours, he resided at Kidderminster. My 
 father loved and honoured him while living, and was one of his Executors. 
 Mr. Orton speaks in one of his published letters of "Mr. Wells," as 
 " a man of an excellent spirit." He was settled at Bromsgrove, Worces- 
 tershire, in the year 1770. In January following, he married Jane, a 
 daughter of the Bev. James Hancox, of Dudley, with whom he lived in 
 all the happiness which the married state can give, until her death, in 
 1817. Her cheerful and steady temper in particular was of the greatest 
 advantage to her husband; who, like all men of strong feelings and ardent 
 
 * From some memoranda furnished by my brother, James H. Wells. 
 
256 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 temperament, though habitually spirited and cheerful, had occasionally 
 intervals of depression. 
 
 There were several remarkable circumstances in the life of my grand- 
 father Hancox. His father and grandfather were members of the Estab- 
 lished Church ; his mother favoured the Puritan opinions. Mr. Baxter 
 has given a high character of her ancestor, Mr. Baker. So zealous was his 
 grandfather, that he took his grandson, with the nurse, without the know- 
 ledge of the mother, to the Vicar of Kidderminster, and had him bap- 
 tized according to the rites of the Church of England. To this Church he 
 had devoted his grandson, — the eldest of thirteen children and the heir 
 of his family. Diis aliter visum. As the boy grew up, he began to have 
 scruples respecting Conformity, and became averse to going to Cambridge, 
 where some of the family had been educated. He obtained permission to 
 go, for some time, to an Academy under the care of Dr. Latham, at that 
 time a distinguished Seminary among the Dissenters. Here he lived, for 
 some time, very happily, and applied himself vigorously to study. He was 
 at length summoned to Cambridge. But his opinions in favour of Non- 
 conformity had taken deep root. He had a strong sense of filial duty, and 
 the times were those of high paternal authority. A clergyman of the 
 Established Church, whose advice he sought, pronounced him better quali- 
 fied for his profession than was usual at the University. This conflict in 
 feelings occasioned him severe suffering. His grandfather had destined 
 for him the Living of Kidderminster. Whether he was the Patron I 
 know not, but he certainly had then the power of Presentation. He gave 
 his grandson to understand that if he declined to enter the Church, in 
 addition to the loss of this Benefice, he should leave his fortune elsewhere. 
 His father, convinced at length of his conscientious motives, became 
 reconciled to him. The old gentleman was more difficult. During his 
 last illness, however, he relented, sent for his grandson, acknowledged his 
 merits, and left him a handsome estate. His next brother was then 
 destined for the Church, but he died soon after having completed his edu- 
 cation. A son of his daughter was then substituted, who died under very 
 similar circumstances. Eventually, my grandfather declined the Living, 
 adhering to his Dissenting principles. This Vicarage of Kidderminster 
 was, at that time, worth more than thirty-five hundred dollars per annum, 
 and was the same from which Richard Baxter was ejected in 1662. * 
 
 My father's congregation at Bromsgrove included several very respecta- 
 ble families. Though small, it was the largest of three Dissenting Socie- 
 ties in that town. The others were an Independent Calvinistic and a 
 Baptist Church. He was beloved by his flock, and happy in the friendship 
 of some neighbouring ministers, several of whom had been his fellow- 
 students. 
 
 At the commencement of the movements which preceded the American 
 Revolution, he took a strong interest in favour of the Colonies. He was 
 never a Radical, or an Agitator, and did not write or speak in public his 
 political opinions. He was attached to the principles of the British Con- 
 stitution, but expressed his opinions with the freedom of an Englishman. 
 He exerted himself, with Dr. Price, Dr. Wren, of Portsmouth, &c, in 
 
 * From an interesting Memoir of the Rev. Jas. Hancox, by his daughter. 
 
WILLIAM WELLS. 257 
 
 collecting subscriptions for the relief of the American Prisoners. When 
 Mr. Laurens, upon his liberation from the Tower, passed through Broms- 
 grove, on his way to Bristol, he inquired for Mr. Wells, stating that he 
 wished to return his own and his country's thanks to him for this service. 
 My father was then absent, but Mr. Laurens sent a message to this pur- 
 port to my mother. 
 
 My father's health had been affected by Lis residence in the town, and 
 he removed to a hamlet distant about two miles, where he cultivated a 
 small farm. This was an occupation which he well understood, and in 
 which he much delighted. He had in his house several boys from respecta- 
 ble Dissenting families, some of whom became attached friends. Notwith- 
 standing these laborious avocations, no one thought his people or his study 
 neglected. He commonly rose at four o'clock, and in the tardy mornings 
 of an English winter, his candle might be seen three hours before daylight. 
 At the Academy and in early life he was a hard student, and; though he never 
 claimed the reputation of a learned man, he had read much and carefully. 
 I cannot be mistaken when I state that, at that time, the education of 
 Dissenting ministers under Dr. Doddridge and others, his cotemporaries 
 and successors, was far superior to that commonly acquired at the Universi- 
 ties. Bishop Butler, Dr. Samuel Chandler, and Dr. Hart, afterwards 
 Archbishop of Dublin, were educated at a small Academy kept by a Dis- 
 senter. Archbishop Seeker, if I mistake not, received his education, in 
 part at least, among the Dissenters, and even preached among them. 
 Several other of their Academies produced eminent men. Indeed, as Dis- 
 senters, obliged to stand entirely upon their own merits and the affections 
 of their people, they had the most cogent motives for exertion. The 
 leaders in their Academies were their first men, brought to this occupation 
 by their sense of duty and the call of the Dissenting Body, and rewarded 
 for their superior toils and trials only by that discharge of duty, and by 
 that veneration which follows an unyielding adherence to it. 
 
 My father was always a student. He had in England a very good 
 library, and, to the latest period of his life, his study was his resort when 
 leisure allowed. 
 
 His memory was tenacious. He was well acquainted with Ecclesiastical 
 History, — that of the Reformation, and especially of the Puritans and 
 Dissenters. The works of Baxter, Bates, Calamy, Neal,. and especially 
 of John Howe, were familiar to him. Of Howe's Living Temple he often 
 spoke. With the successors of these worthies, — Watts, Taylor, &e. he was 
 of course well acquainted. He had in his library many of the best writers 
 belonging to the Established Church. Burnet, Tillotson and Clarke were 
 his favourites. No man was less of a bigot, but the idea of submission to 
 Articles of Faith he never could endure. 
 
 While at Bromsgrove, my father, whose truly feeling and compassionate 
 temper always sympathized with the suffering, saw with concern the calami- 
 ties of the poor arising from the Small-pox. His own relatives had suf- 
 fered severely from this dreadful scourge. At that period, Inoculation 
 was little known or practised in the middle parts of England. He was so 
 sensible of its value that he inoculated his own children, — a proceeding 
 which occasioned much surprise, and some disapprobation. As we got 
 
 Vol. VIII. 17 
 
258 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 through the disease very well, some of his friends requested him to perform 
 the operation upon their children. This he declined; but complied with 
 the earnest requests of his poor neighbours. The surgeons charged a 
 price which they could not reach. Success produced more applications, 
 and for two years his time was much occupied with riding about the coun- 
 try, inoculating, supplying the necessary medicines, advice, &c. to the sick. 
 He brought through the disease nearly thirteen hundred. His friend, Dr. 
 Johnson, an eminent physician at Worcester, used pleasantly to call him 
 " Brother Doctor." 
 
 In 1791 the Birmingham riots happened. Several Dissenting meeting- 
 houses, and many houses of opulent Dissenters, were burnt by a brutal 
 mob. My father's house was threatened, and his meeting-house escaped 
 destruction only by an accident. All sorts of absurd calumnies were cir- 
 culated about the Dissenters, and men of the most blameless and retired 
 lives were accused of forming the most wicked and desperate conspiracies. 
 This opportunity of reviving the old accusations against the Dissenters was 
 not pretermitted by the High Church and Tory party. Dr. Priestley, who 
 never attended political meetings, who had written but little upon politics, 
 and then only in the usual and authorized style of Mr. Locke and his follow- 
 ers, had given deep offence by bold attacks upon the Theology of the Church, 
 and bigots secretly encouraged the ignorant populace to destroy his house, 
 his place of worship, and others of his own and other denominations, in 
 Birmingham and its vicinity. 
 
 From early life, my father took great interest in the history of New 
 England, and twelve years before he emigrated, had visited Bristol to make 
 inquiries. He had opened a correspondence with the Rev. Dr. Morse 
 upon that subject. This crisis of outrage and persecution produced his 
 decision. 
 
 He arrived at Boston, with his wife and eight children, June 12, 1793. 
 The next year, he purchased a farm at Brattleborough, in the State of Ver- 
 mont, where he resided until his death, December 27, 1827. It is remarka- 
 ble that fifty-one years after their arrival in America, all his children were 
 alive and in health, — his youngest son, John Howard, dying in 1844, at 
 the age of sixty. 
 
 He was invited, after some time, to become the Pastor of the Society in 
 Brattleborough, but declined. He foresaw that his farm and his large 
 family would occupy much of his time ; and felt that he should be more 
 independent in action, and perhaps not less useful, than if he became the 
 Pastor. He agreed, however, to perform the functions of that office, and 
 accepted what remuneration the town might vote. He was annually chosen 
 for about twenty years. Pew ministers -devoted themselves more to the 
 improvement of their people. 
 
 In 1816 he published a pamphlet, entitled " Some Observations, taken in 
 part from an Address delivered in the New Meeting-House in Brattlebor- 
 ough, July 7, 1816, being the first Communion held in that place." 
 
 I leave to a, more competent person the exhibition of his ministerial 
 character. In theological opinions he was an Arian — in early life, much 
 according to the sentiments of Dr. Samuel Clarke, but considerably modi- 
 fied during the last half of his life. His later judgments, I think, are 
 
WILLIAM WELLS. 259 
 
 pretty accurately represented in Dr. Price's Sermons on the Christian Doc- 
 trine. But, in truth, he laid little stress upon the differences of Protest- 
 ants upon these points. He had known, during a long life, many excellent 
 men, — perhaps equally excellent, — Calvinists, Arians, Unitarians. He 
 had his own opinions, but he thought real religion, — the religiou of the 
 heart and of the life, the one thing needful. He seldom spoke of these 
 differences, and never in his public ministrations. But he was ardent and 
 unshaken in his zeal for the right of private judgment, and would never 
 subject himself to, or aid in imposing upon others, any creed or Article of 
 Faith. He considered the Bible, and the Bible only, as containing the 
 religion of Christians ; and to search the Scriptures for himself, the right 
 and duty of every man. 
 
 In youth, he was a handsome man, and in age, his ample forehead and 
 grey hair gave him a very venerable appearance. He was tall, strong and 
 well-proportioned, of a courageous and ardent temper, but perfectly mas- 
 ter of it. His cheerful and lively spirit led him to sympathize warmly 
 with the prosperous and happy ; while a feeling heart and truly Christian 
 compassion rendered him acceptable to the afflicted. To all his conversa- 
 tion was pleasing. His ready memory, and extensive acquaintance with 
 distinguished men and important events, supplied him with appropriate and 
 pointed anecdotes ; and, though as far as possible from a story-teller, he 
 seldom failed to enliven a social conversation by some apt illustration. His 
 society, indeed, was highly pleasing, and not only to the grave and sober, 
 but to the young and the gay. 
 
 His temperance was remarkable. I never knew him drink a glass of 
 any thing but water. 
 
 His health was usually very good, though he had several times suffered 
 from severe inflammatory disease? ; in two or three of which his life had 
 been despaired of. About the age of seventy, he was afflicted by that very 
 dangerous disease, dropsy in the chest. His medical attendants told me — 
 what indeed appeared probable — that he could not live three weeks. His 
 physicians called it Angina Pectoris. He said to me, " I do not know 
 what my complaint is, but I am certain it is not Angina Pectoris.". He 
 wrote, at my request, a statement of his symptoms to my friend, the emi- 
 nent Dr. Jaekson, of Boston, who pronounced it a most accurate descrip- 
 tion of Hydrothorax. Dr. J. advised to the use of the Digitalis ; and to 
 this medicine he appeared to me to owe his recovery. This, so unusual at 
 his advanced period of life, was perfect. He was never afterwards troubled 
 by this disease. 
 
 Some years afterwards, at the age of seventy-four, he made a voyage to 
 England, being especially desirous to see his eldest daughter who had been 
 long married and settled in her native country. He passed somewhat more 
 than a year abroad, and travelled much, visiting the scenes of his youth 
 and former life, and renewing such intimacies as time had spared. Every 
 one was surprised at the accuracy of his memory, and at the activitv, 
 energy and vivacity of his manners and inquiries. His account of these 
 observations was an amusement to himself, and highly interested his family 
 and friends during the remainder of his life. While abroad, he received, very 
 unexpectedly, the diploma of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard University, 
 
260 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 From his youth up, he was very religiously impressed, and this habit 
 was happily confirmed by the example of those who guarded his early years, 
 and afterwards by the society in which he moved. His temper and feel- 
 ings, though ardent, were habitually grave and devout, as became his call- 
 ing. His family services were very serious ; and in the various alterna- 
 tions to which a large family, during so long a period, must necessarily be 
 exposed, he had the peculiar faculty of leading the thoughts of his child- 
 dren in the proper direction, and of suggesting the reflections which became 
 their present circumstauces, whether of joy or trouble. 
 
 During his life, he experienced abundantly those sorrows and trials which 
 fourscore years rarely fail to bring in their train. But he never lost his 
 cheerful and trusting temper, and was steadily supported by an unshaken 
 faith in the goodness of God, and in the promises of his Son's Gospel. 
 
 I remain, Rev. Sir, with the greatest respect, your friend and servant, 
 
 W. WELLS. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, D. D. 
 
 Deerfield, January 3, 1850. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. William Wells, D. D., 
 late of Brattleborough, Vt., commenced in' the autumn of 1807. The first 
 advances were made by him within three or four weeks of my Ordination in 
 this place, in a proposition for an exchange of pulpit services. The exchange 
 was made, and repeated about once a year, as long as he had a pulpit at his 
 disposal. Besides this, I early conceived such a regard for his character and 
 conversation as led me to make the journey of twenty-four miles, as often as 
 circumstances favoured, for the express purpose of visiting one who was con- 
 stantly gaining in my respect and esteem; and some of these visits were 
 returned by him. This intimacy continued to the close of his life, amounting 
 to about twenty years. Such, in few words, were some, but not all, of the 
 opportunities which I enjoyed for becoming acquainted with, the venerable 
 man of whom you have asked me to give you an account. 
 
 The outward person of Dr. Wells was, at first sight, prepossessing; uniting, 
 in an eminent degree, the expressions of dignity and benevolence. He was 
 about six feet in height, very erect, and stoutly built. His countenance was 
 at once intelligent and bland, and his whole port and manner were such as at 
 once inspired respect and confidence; — a confidence which neither feared nor 
 experienced disappointment. 
 
 The religious principles of Dr. Wells, as far as he held them to be import- 
 ant, appeared to be firmly fixed. He was, however, no controversialist. So 
 far from it, I think I may say he "had an aversion to the discussion of those 
 points on which the professors of religion have been most at variance. To a 
 young minister who was often reproached for what was regarded by many 
 as an erroneous or defective faith, his advice was, — " Live down these 
 reproaches." His comparative view of speculative and practical errors may 
 be illustrated by an anecdote. In those days, when every minister's house 
 was regarded as an inn or refectory for every other minister, whether known 
 or unknown, who wanted rest or refreshment, a young man called upon him, 
 and, soon after the introduction, a dialogue ensued very much like the follow- 
 ing: — Stranger. "Are there any heresies among you ?" Dr. W. " I know 
 not whether I understand the drift of your question." Stranger. "I wish 
 to inquire, Sir, whether there be any Arminians, Socinians, or Universalists 
 among you." Dr. W. << Oh, Sir, there are worse heretics than any of 
 these." Strangtr. "My dear Sir, what can be worse?" Dr. W. "Why 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 261 
 
 there are some who get drunk, and some who quarrel with their families, or 
 their neighbours, and some who will not pay their debts, when they might 
 do it, and some who are very profane. Such men I think far worse heretics 
 than those for whom you inquire." From this anecdote it is not to be under- 
 stood that Dr. Wells was either a Universalist or a Socinian. I am very sure 
 he was neither. Indeed I have no recollection that he ever took any party 
 name whatever. He had little regard for party leaders, — but had the appear- 
 ance, both in his conversation and preaching, of great independence in his 
 religious opinions. If he was a Unitarian in the technical sense of the word, 
 as I believe he was, I am inclined to think, from my best recollections, after 
 the lapse of more than twenty years, that he took ground nearly as high in 
 regard to our Saviour's relation to the Father, as Dr. Samuel Clarke; that he 
 rested in the supremacy of the Father, without searching very deeply into 
 those hidden things which he considered as belonging to God and not to man. 
 In regard to ministerial fellowship, he took the ground of exchanging pulpit 
 services with any Congregational minister of unblemished character, though 
 they might differ widely in some of their speculations. He had fellowship to 
 the last with some of the << orthodox;" and, while on his death bed, he 
 named, as the first person to be applied to for preaching his Funeral Sermon, 
 the Rev. Pliny Dickinson, a Calvinistic minister in Walpole. For some reason 
 which, if I have ever known, is forgotten, Mr. Dickinson failed of performing 
 the service; and, agreeably to Dr. Wells' conditional request, I preached the 
 Sermon. 
 
 In conversation Dr. Wells was entertaining and instructive. He was often 
 facetious, but never at the expense of reasonable gravity. Acquainted as he 
 was with the nationalities of England, and with many of the best characters, — 
 such for instance as Job Orton, John Howard, and William Roscoe, his mind 
 was richly stored with anecdotes which either enlightened or enlarged the 
 understanding, or exhilarated without dissipating the spirits, and rendered 
 him an interesting companion to the old and the young. As a Preacher he 
 was generally, if not always, practical and serious. Without any apparent 
 aim to move the feelings, he was often impressive. The weight of his senti- 
 ments, and the perfect simplicity of his manner and style, found their way to 
 the heart, and often left an impression there which popular eloquence does 
 not generally produce. In his later years he was disposed to dwell more and 
 more on subjects intimately connected with that invisible world, to which, as 
 he knew and felt, he must soon be called. 
 
 I am your very sincere friend, 
 
 SAMUEL WILLARD. 
 
 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND, D. D., LL. D * 
 
 1793 — 1840. 
 
 John Thornton Kirkland was a son of the Kev. Samuel Kirkland, 
 the well known missionary among the Indians, and of Jerusha his wife, 
 whose maiden name was Bingham, and who was a niece of the first Presi- 
 dent Wheelock. He was born, with a twin brother, whose name was 
 George Whitefield, at Herkimer, N. Y., on the 17th of August, 1770. 
 He was called John Thornton, in honour of the celebrated English philan- 
 
 * Dr. Young's Fun. Disc. — Dr. Palfrey's Eulogy. 
 
262 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 thropist of that name, who had contributed liberally to the support of the 
 Indian mission. 
 
 As the immediate field of Mr. Kirkland's missionary labours was at 
 Oneida, Mrs. Kirkland, soon after the birth of these children, removed 
 thither, where she lived till they were two years old. But, as war now 
 began to be apprehended, and it was doubtful which side the Indians might 
 take, she removed, with her children, to Windham, Conn., — the native place 
 of her mother. In the autumn of 1772, in consequence of a liberal dona- 
 tion from the Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge, 
 her husband was enabled to purchase a small house and farm in Stock- 
 bridge, Mass., where John Thornton spent several of his early years. 
 
 His opportunities here for school education were very meagre, but the 
 deficiency was well made up by the watchful and unremitting efforts of a 
 highly intelligent and excellent mother. When he was four years old, he 
 received a kick from a horse, which left a scar in his forehead that he car- 
 ried through life. This distressing casualty, which had so nearly proved 
 fatal, greatly increased his mother's concern in his behalf, and rendered 
 her still more desirous that the intellectual tastes which began very early 
 to be developed, should, as far as possible, be encouraged and cultivated. 
 He was distinguished, in his boyhood, as well as ever afterwards, for un- 
 common sweetness of temper, and was a great favourite in the neighbour- 
 hood in which he lived. 
 
 In March, 1784, when he was thirteen years of age, he was taken by 
 his father to Andover, Mass., and placed in Phillips Academy, then under 
 the care of Dr. Eliphalet Pearson. In consideration of his father's strait- 
 ened circumstances, the Hon. Samuel Phillips, afterwards Lieutenant Gov- 
 ernor of Massachusetts, and one of the most active philanthropists of his 
 day, received him into his family, and paid all the expenses of his course 
 preparatory to entering College. After spending two years at the Acade- 
 my, he was admitted in April, 1786, at the age of fifteen, into the Fresh- 
 man class of Harvard College, in advanced standing. 
 
 In the winter vacation of 1787, there occurred an exigency which gave 
 him an opportunity of demonstrating both his patriotism and his courage — 
 it was the famous Shays Insurrection. He enlisted for thirty days in an 
 army of between four and five thousand men, which, under the command 
 of General Lincoln, quickly succeeded in putting down the rebellion. He 
 engaged in this enterprise, not on account of the novelty of the scene, or 
 for the small pecuniary compensation which he might receive, but from an 
 honest conviction that the interests of the country were imperilled, and 
 that it was absolutely essential that the rebellious spirit, which had thus 
 begun to show itself, should be promptly suppressed. 
 
 During his whole college course, he was much distinguished as a scholar, 
 but was thought to have a peculiar aptness for the Languages and Meta- 
 physics. He was also universally looked upon as a model of good nature 
 and generosity. He graduated, with high honour, in 1789, at the age of 
 nineteen. 
 
 Shortly after he left College, he committed to paper some brief notices 
 of his early life, in which occurs the following beautiful tribute to the 
 memory of his mother. 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 263 
 
 " One misfortune befel me in my Junior year, which this world can never repair. 
 My mother, on January 23, 1788, died. The highest pleasure I could enjoy was that 
 of pleasing her; and her influence over me was so great that I never deviated from 
 rectitude without feeling myself particularly culpable on her account. Her affection 
 to her children was as great as her sensibility was exquisite. She seldom spoke of 
 their welfare without tears, nor ever remitted her exertions to promote it. She found 
 her chief consolation, under sorrow and disappointment, in religion. In the doctrines 
 and promises of Christianity she had an unshaken faith ; its precepts were her delight, 
 and their practice her ornament. In her expiring moments, she felt its supporting 
 power. When she perceived the hand of death ready to snatch her, she bid a calm 
 farewell to her surrounding friends, and with joyful confidence committed her spirit 
 to her Saviour. May her early and constant instructions, her earnest exhortations to 
 goodness, her excellent example and triumphant death, be indelibly impressed on the 
 minds of her children, and form the directory of their lives. Go, gentle spirit, to thy 
 native region, and join the kindred throng of raptured spirits in bliss to hymn the 
 praises of the great Creator. Thy genial virtues shall flourish in immortal vigour, and 
 thy reward be vast as thy desires and lasting as thine existence." 
 
 Immediately after he graduated, he went to reside at Andover as an 
 assistant in the Academy, then under the charge of Ebenezer Pemberton, 
 (afterwards LL.D.) Here he spent a year, devoting himself assiduously 
 to his duties as a teacher, and uncertain whether he should ultimately 
 choose, as a profession, Law or Divinity. After leaving Andover, how- 
 ever, at the close of a year, he went home to Stockbridge, and commenced 
 the study of Theology under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Stephen West. 
 From some letters of his which still remain, it would seem that Dr. West's 
 views of Theology, which are understood to have been substantially 
 those of Dr. Hopkins, found little favour in the eyes of his pupil; and, 
 accordingly, after a short time, he went to Cambridge to continue his 
 studies in a more congenial atmosphere. Besides a critical examination of 
 the Scriptures, he is said to have given much attention to the writings of 
 Jortin, James Foster, Tillotson, Lardner, Price, Priestley, and others of 
 the same school. 
 
 In 1792 he made a visit to his father, and spent several months with 
 him in the neighbourhood of the Oneida Indians. In November of the 
 same year, while he was still prosecuting his theological studies, he was 
 appointed a Tutor at Cambridge, in the department of Logic and Meta- 
 physics. He accepted the appointment, and held the office till January, 
 1794. 
 
 Just before he began to preach, he committed to writing a prayer of 
 -considerable length, touching the duties and the responsibilities of the 
 ministry, of which the following is the closing paragraph : — 
 
 " Where, God, shall I look, but unto thee, my Father, Guide and Prop. In my 
 public teaching, in my private studies, and my general conduct and converse, be 
 always, through Jesus Christ, sufficient for me, filling and influencing me by those 
 sentiments, and principles, and affections, which thou canst view with complacency, 
 and reward, through grace, with the paradise above, — is the prayer of thy sinful and 
 unworthy creature. To thee, with the Saviour and Spirit, be all glory, Amen." 
 
 Mr. Kirkland, almost immediately after he was approved and recom- 
 mended by the Association, was invited to preach to the New South 
 Church, Boston, then vacant ; and, after preaching to them a few Sab- 
 baths, he was unanimously called to be their Pastor. He accepted the 
 call, and was ordained on the 5th of February, 1794, — Dr. Tappan 
 preaching the Sermon, and Mr. Kirkland's father giving the Charge. 
 
 In the year 1802, when he was only in the thirty-second year of his age, 
 
264 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 and the ninth of his ministry, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity 
 from the College of Xew Jersey. The degree of Doctor of Laws was con- 
 ferred upon him, by Brown University, in 1810. 
 
 Such was the reputation which Dr. Kirkland had acquired in the com- 
 munity, and so commandrng the influence which he exerted in the highest 
 circles, that, when the Presidential chair in Harvard College was vacated 
 by the death of Dr. Webber, the public attention was generally turned 
 towards him as the most prominent candidate for that responsible station. 
 He wa.s, accordingly, chosen by the Corporation, August 7, 1810 ; and his 
 election was confirmed by the Board of Overseers, on the 23d of the same 
 month. In due time, he signified his acceptance of the office, and, on the 
 14th of November following, was inducted into it, — a Congratulatory 
 Address in Latin being delivered on the occasion by Mr. Samuel Cooper 
 Thacher, the Librarian of the University, who, a few months after, suc- 
 ceeded Dr. Kirkland in his pastoral charge. 
 
 The Presidency of Dr. Kirkland marked, in many respects, a brilliant 
 period in the history of the University. He gathered around him a Body 
 of Professors and Tutors, of unquestionable eminence in the several de- 
 partments which they occupied, and many of whom are now regarded as 
 among the brightest stars in our American literature. Under his admin- 
 istration the course of studies was re-modelled and enlarged; the qualifi- 
 cations for admission greatly advanced ; the Law School established ; the 
 Medical School re-organized ; four different Professorships in the Academi- 
 cal department endowed and filled ; three new and substantial buildings 
 erected; the Library doubled by accessions from various sources; and the 
 college grounds greatly improved by being encircled with beautiful shade 
 trees. To Dr. Kirkland's influence with the rich men of Boston there 
 was scarcely a limit ; and this influence he failed not to exert to the utmost 
 in favour of an institution with which he had so many grateful associations, 
 and with which his own name was always to be identified. 
 
 Dr. Kirkland, during the latter part of his Presidency, preached on 
 alternate Sabbaths, with Dr. ATare, to the students in the college chapel ; 
 and, at an earlier period, he often assisted his brethren in the neighbour- 
 hood. His discourses are represented as having generally been ethical 
 dissertations, not remarkable for continuity of thought, but characterized 
 by great condensation and a searching analysis of the springs of human 
 conduct. He wrote comparatively few sermons after he went to Cam- 
 bridge. 
 
 In August, 1827, he suffered a stroke of paralysis, which was the remote 
 cause of his retiring from his office. On the 28th of March, 1828, he 
 tendered his resignation, which was accepted by the Corporation, with the 
 highest expressions of respect for his character and of gratitude for his 
 services. On the 1st of April, he took leave of his pupils in the college 
 chapel, in a brief and touching Address, which he closed by saying, — " I 
 bid you an affectionate farewell. God bless you in time and eternity." 
 The Address was responded to in a style of uncommon beauty and in a 
 tone of devoted affection. 
 
 Early in September, 1827, President Kirkland was married to Elizabeth, 
 daughter of his former friend and parishioner, the Hon. George Cabot. 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKXAND. 265 
 
 He left Cambridge in April, 1828, and, after spending the Summer in 
 Boston, set out with his wife on a long journey through the Southern and 
 Western parts of the United States. He passed part of the winter in 
 New Orleans, and was met every where with a most cordial welcome from 
 his former pupils. On his return, in the spring of 1829, he embarked 
 from New York, with his wife, in the month of April, for Havre, and 
 spent three years and a half in travelling in foreign countries. In this 
 tour he visited Egypt and Palestine ; and then, crossing the Balkan on 
 horseback, he proceeded to Belgrade, Buda, Vienna and Munich. He 
 reached home in October, 1832, and spent the residue of his days at Bos- 
 ton, in retirement. 
 
 Notwithstanding his life was undoubtedly prolonged, and his health and 
 spirits benefitted, by hia long and interesting foreign tour, yet his constitu- 
 tion had undergone a shock from which recovery was hopeless; and though, 
 for several years, he was often seen in the streets of Boston, and always 
 had a hearty greeting from his friends, yet they could recognize in him 
 only the wreck of the fine person and intellect they used to know. During 
 the year 1839 the process of decay had been considerably hastened ; but 
 it was only a week before his death that any immediately alarming symp- 
 toms were developed. He died, Sabbath morning, April 26, 1840, at the 
 age of sixty-nine. His Funeral was attended on the "succeeding Tuesday, 
 when he was laid by the side of his old friend, Mr. Cabot, in his family 
 vault, in the Granary Burying ground. Dr. Young, Dr. Parkman, and 
 Dr. Palfrey, all delivered Discourses commemorative of his life and charac- 
 ter, which were severally published. Mrs. Kirkland died in 1852. 
 The following is a list of Dr. Kirkland's publications : — 
 A Sermon before the Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company, 1795. 
 A Sermon on the day of a National Past, 1798. A Sermon at the Inter- 
 ment of the Rev. Jeremy Belknap, D. D., 1798. A Discourse on the 
 Death of General Washington, 1799. A Sermon at the Ordination of 
 the Rev. John Pipon* at Taunton, 1800. An Address before the Massa- 
 chusetts Charitable Pire Society, 1801. Right Hand of Fellowship to 
 the Rev. Horace Holley, 1809. t A Sermon before the Massachusetts So- 
 ciety for the Suppression of Intemperance, 1814. A Discourse before the 
 Governor and Legislature of Massachusetts, on the day of the Anniver- 
 sary Election, 1816. A Discourse on the Death of the Hon. George 
 Cabot, 1823. 
 
 * John Pipon was a native of Boston; learned the trade of a house-wright, at which he 
 wrought for a short time, and afterwards prepared himself for College, and graduated at 
 Harvard in 1792. He was, for a time, Butler of the University; then officiated as a Reader 
 at Christ Church, and resided for a time at Biddeford, Me. In 1798, he was at Cambridge, 
 pursuing the study of Theology, and preaching occasionally in different towns. He went to 
 Taunton in 1799, where he received a call the same year, and was ordained in January, 
 1800. He died of angina pectoris in January, 1821. He was distinguished for great sim- 
 plicity of character, kindliness of spirit, and fine social qualities. 
 
 f Horace Holley, a son of Luther Holley, was born in Salisbury, Conn., February 13, 
 1781; was fitted for College at Williamstown, Mass., at the Academy, or preparatory school 
 connected with Williams College; entered at Yale in 1799, and graduated in 1803 ; studied 
 Law for a few months, and then commenced the study of Divinity under President Dwight; 
 was licensed to preach in December, 1804; was ordained and installed minister of the con- 
 gregation in Greenfield, of which Dr. Dwight had, for several years, had the pastoral charge, 
 September 13, 1805; resigned his charge, September 13, 1808; was installed as Pastor of 
 the Hollis Street Church, Boston, March 8, 1809; accepted an invitation to the Presidency 
 of Transylvania University in 1818, and held the office till 1827, when he resigned it with a 
 
266 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Notices of the Life and Character of Fisher Ames, prefixed to his 
 works, 1809. A Sermon inserted in a work entitled " A General View of 
 the Doctrines of Christianity, pp. 109-124, 1809. Life of Commodore 
 Prehle, in the Portfolio, vols, in and iv., 1810. Review of the Rev. 
 Abiel Abbot's Statement, in the General Repository and Review, vol. I., 
 1812. Obituary Notice of the Rev. John Lathrop, D. D., in the Christian 
 Disciple, vol. vi., First Series, 1816. A Discourse in Commemoration 
 of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, delivered before the American 
 Academy of Arts and Sciences, 1826. Printed in the Transactions of the 
 Academy, New Series, vol. i. Letter to the Hon. John Davis, of Boston, 
 on the Holy Land, written at Cyprus, May 31, 1832, and printed in the 
 Christian Examiner, vol. XXIII. 
 
 Contributions to the Collections of the Massachusetts His- 
 torical Society. 
 
 Answer to Queries respecting the Indians, vol. iv., 1795. Notices of 
 the Life of Major General Benjamin Lincoln, vol. in., Second Series, 
 1815. Sketch of the Character of Caleb Gannett, Esq., vol. vni. No- 
 tice of Professor Peck, vol. x. 
 
 Contributions to the Monthly Anthology. 
 
 Review of the Christian Monitor, vol. in. Address of the Editors, 
 vol. iv. Memoir for establishing the Boston Athenaeum, do. Review of 
 Memoirs of Priestley, do. An Essay on the Seasons, do. Review of Dr. 
 Joseph Lathrop's Sermons, do. An Essay of Sympathy, vol. v. Review 
 of the Christian Monitor, do. Character of the Hon. Fisher Ames, do. 
 Review of McFarland's History of Heresies, vol. vi. Essay on Truth, 
 do. Anecdote of Franklin, do. Review of Coslebs, do. An Essay on 
 Advice, vol. vni. Review of Eliot's and Allen's Biographical Diction- 
 aries, do. Review of Memoirs of President Wheelock, vol. x. 
 
 I had the pleasure of knowing Dr. Kirkland quite well during a period 
 of nearly thirty years. In May, 1811, I made my first visit to Boston, 
 and, during my stay there, was the guest of the Rev. J. S. Buckminster. 
 As I was setting out on my homeward journey, with an intention of stop- 
 ping a few hours at Cambridge, he gave me a note of introduction to Presi- 
 dent Kirkland, stating that I should probably join Harvard College at the 
 next Commencement. On reaching Cambridge, I stopped at the hotel 
 nearest the College ^the only one, for aught I know, that there was at that 
 day), and, as I sallied forth to find Dr. Kirkland, met a gentleman on the 
 common, of about the middle height, with a slight tendency to corpulency, 
 and a face beaming with all that was kind and generous, and, though I 
 suspected strongly that he was the man I was looking for, I ventured to 
 ask him if he could tell me where President Kirkland lived. "With a 
 
 view to taking charge of a Seminary to be opened in Louisiana ; but was attacked by sickness 
 in New Orleans, in the summer of the same year, and died of Yellow Fever, on his passage 
 to New York, on the 31st of July. He was honoured with the degree of LL. D., by the 
 College at Cincinnati. He published a Discourse on the Death of Col. James Morrison, 
 1823. In the early part of his ministry he was a Trinitarian, but, from the time of his set- 
 tlement in Boston, was decidedly a Unitarian. He was a man of fine personal appearance, 
 of commanding talents, and, both as a Trinitarian and a Unitarian, was a very popular 
 preacher. A Discourse on his Genius and Character by Charles Caldwell, M. D., with 
 copious notes, Biographical and Illustrative, by his widow, was published in 1828. 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 
 
 267 
 
 look and manner in which the genial and the quizzical seemed to share 
 equally, he said, pointing to an open window in a house close by, — " You 
 see that window open — go in at the door below it, and go up stairs, and 
 sit down in the room where you will find yourself, and President Kirk- 
 land will be there in a few minutes." I did as directed, and sure enough 
 I had scarcely got there, when I was joined by the bland, fine looking 
 man from whom I had received the direction, and who no longer left me in 
 doubt as to whether he was the President. He read Mr. Buckininster's 
 note, and then began to talk with me with just as much freedom as if he 
 had known me always. He seemed full of good humour and fun, and said 
 many bright and witty things, some of which I remember to this day. As 
 he was about taking his cigar, he asked me if I smoked ; and, when I 
 replied in the negative, he said, — '■ Well, you have one negative sign of 
 virtue about you." I staid with him the greater part of the day, and left 
 him with the impression (which indeed always remained unchanged) that 
 he was a most attractive and fascinating person. 
 
 I expected, on parting with him at this time, to return to Cambridge in 
 September, to enter College ; but it turned out that I entered not at Har- 
 vard but at Yale ; and my next meeting with the President was at the 
 close of my Freshman year, when I had the privilege of visiting my 
 friends in the neighbourhood of Boston, and him among the rest. I spent 
 a night at his house at that time, where also I was introduced to Mr. 
 Everett, who was then a Tutor in College, and a special favourite with Dr. 
 Kirkland. The Doctor was as bland and witty as ever, and welcomed me 
 with as much cordiality as if I had been a near relative — and so indeed 
 he always did in the several visits which I made to him in subsequent 
 years. At the time to which I now refer, I remember he came out of the 
 door with me in the morning when I was coming away, and, as I mounted 
 my horse, (for I rode on horseback,) he gave me to understand that my 
 horsemanship might be improved, and advised me before I came again to 
 take lessons of some famous teacher in that department, whose name he 
 gave me, in Boston. 
 
 On one occasion, when I visited him, he was engaged to preach to his 
 former flock in Boston, and he took me over there to spend the Sabbath. 
 Just after we had crossed the bridge, leading into Boston, we overtook 
 Father Taylor, the Chaplain to the seamen ; and he stopped and intro- 
 duced him to me ; and remarked, as we passed along, that he was one of 
 the extraordinary men of his time. I heard him preach both morning and 
 afternoon ; and though his sermons, which, as usual, were of a purely 
 ethical character, abounded in striking thoughts and pithy expressions, 
 yet they were delivered with an air of such utter indifference that I 
 thought their effect upon the mass of the people was rather that of an 
 anodyne than of a stimulant. I never heard him preach afterwards. 
 
 I had an opportunity, at several different times, of putting President 
 Kirkland's friendship to the test ; and he always showed himself my firm 
 friend. The congregation over which I was settled at West Springfield 
 was not, at that period, entirely of one mind in regard to religious doc- 
 trine, — a portion of them having a strong leaning towards the system that 
 was taught at Cambridge ; and, after one or two of the students of that 
 
268 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 school had actually supplied the pulpit for a short time as candidates, Dr. 
 Kirkland wrote to the parish committee, advising them to employ me in 
 the same capacity ; and, strange enough, it was on the united recommenda- 
 tion of Dr. Kirkland and Dr. Miller that I was settled. 
 
 While I was a student in the Theological Seminary at Princeton, Dr. 
 Kirkland, on his way home from Philadelphia, stopped to pay a short visit 
 to his friend, the venerable Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith. As he reached 
 Princeton late in the evening, and expected to leave before dinner the 
 next day, I was sent for early in the morning to go to Dr. Smith's to meet 
 him. I never knew him more genial and brilliant than he was that morn- 
 ing. Dr. Smith and he were old friends, and each quickened the other's 
 fine powers, producing at once " the feast of reason and the flow of soul." 
 There came on a violent snow-storm, so that it became somewhat doubtful 
 whether the Doctor would leave that day ; but, when I parted with him, he 
 assured me that if he should conclude to remain till the next morning, he 
 would certainly come to the Seminary and call upon me. Accordingly, in 
 the course of the day, he came wading along up in the snow, and facing the 
 storm, and when he reached my room, which was in the fourth story, he 
 seemed well nigh exhausted ; but he entered with a smile upon his face 
 and a witticism upon his lips. He made me a pretty long call, and by his 
 kindly, winning manner, and agreeable and striking remarks, set all the 
 students who happened to see him to both wondering and admiring. That 
 the President of Harvard College should have come up a quarter of a mile 
 in a snow-storm, and then ascended three flights of stairs, for nothing more 
 important than to express his good-will to one of their own number, 
 seemed to them an instance of condescension, which at least distinguished 
 him from all other Presidents of Colleges with whom they were acquainted. 
 
 I saw Dr. Kirkland several times after his return from his foreign tour, 
 and the last time was, I think, not many months before his death. The 
 smile of welcome, the kindly, cordial manner, was still there ; but scarcely 
 any other attraction remained. The power of enchaining attention by 
 sententious and weighty remarks was gone. It was sad thus to behold a 
 splendid intellect in ruins. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ABIEL ABBOT, D. D. 
 
 Peterborough, N. H., September 22, 1853. 
 
 My dear Friend: My recollections of Dr. Kirkland are all of the most agreea- 
 ble kind, though, from the nature of my intercourse with him, they are rather 
 general than particular. He joined the Academy at Andover, if I mistake 
 not, when I left it to enter College; so that I had no acquaintance with him 
 until he came to College in my Junior year. Judge Samuel Phillips, of An- 
 dover, was his particular friend and patron; and I well remember that, after 
 he had completed his college course, and was yet undecided in regard to his 
 profession, the Judge called on me, as I was passing through Andover, and 
 requested me to use any influence I might have with him, to induce him to 
 enter the ministry. I was myself, for some time, an assistant at the Andover 
 Academy; and, when I left it, Kirkland succeeded to the place; and, as I still 
 remained at Andover, pursuing my theological studies, under the Rev. Mr. 
 French, I had frequent opportunities of intercourse with him, and we formed 
 a somewhat intimate friendship, which continued to the close of his life. 
 
 He was remarkably popular as a student in College, both with the govern- 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 269 
 
 ment and with his fellow-students, and he had already developed, in no small 
 degree, those traits of character that afterwards rendered him one of the 
 most attractive men of his time. His fine, open countenance would prepossess 
 you in his favour before he opened his lips, and then you could not listen to 
 his conversation on any subject, without perceiving that he had a mind of a 
 superior mould; and you would be very likely also soon to discover that he 
 had a heart that was full of warm and generous feeling. His good nature, 
 which never forsook him, was especially the delight of all his college friends. 
 He stood in the first rank as a scholar; and, while he was more than respect- 
 able in all his studies, his taste seemed to incline him, and his talents to 
 adapt him, more especially to Metaphysics and Ethics, in both of which 
 branches he was pre-eminent. As a writer, he was always distinguished for 
 terseness and point. His sermons were sometimes more like a rich collection 
 of aphorisms than a continuous discourse ; and, though they were delivered 
 in an exceedingly careless and unattractive manner, they were so full of apt 
 and suggestive thought that no intelligent hearer was likely to feel any tend- 
 ency to drowsiness. 
 
 Mr. Kirkland was by nature and habit a perfect gentleman, without the 
 least semblance of parade or ostentation; his manners were in every respect 
 worthy of the Court — -at once polished, dignified, and yet familiar. I have 
 rarely known a person who could adapt himself to all society and all circum- 
 stances at once so easily and so successfully. Those who were educated at 
 Cambridge during his connection with the College as President, will tell you 
 that he had a wonderful facility at managing young men. I heard Judge 
 Parsons say that it cost him a great conflict of feeling to favour his removal 
 from the pastoral charge to the Presidency of the College, as the change must 
 be made at the expense of his giving him up as his minister ; but that he felt 
 bound to do it, as he verily believed the place to which he was called was 
 made for him, and he was made for the place. 
 
 When Dr. Kirkland was settled in the ministry, I have reason to believe 
 that his doctrinal views were not very definitely formed. During the time 
 that he was reading Theology under the direction of Dr. West, of Stock- 
 bridge, he wrote me a letter containing some very ingenious speculations, from 
 which I inferred that he was in doubt in respect at least to some of the sub- 
 jects which were occupying his attention. His theological investigations, 
 subsequently to his settlement, resulted in his becoming a decided Unitarian, 
 though, in respect to the particular type of his Unitarianism, I cannot speak 
 with confidence. His preaching, I believe, had scarcely a doctrinal tinge. He 
 was a member of the Council at Mansfield, Conn., that was called in the case 
 of the Rev. John Sherman, who had become a Unitarian. As Scribe of the 
 Council, he drew up the result, — a document evincing great skill and sagacity, 
 commending Mr. Sherman, in strong terms, but, at the same time, cautiously 
 avoiding any endorsement of his religious opinions. 
 
 His natural temperament was remarkably cheerful, and he delighted in 
 innocent merriment on what he deemed suitable occasions. During my resi- 
 dence at Byfield, he came, I think twice, to keep Thanksgiving with his 
 friend, Mr. Parsons; and I well remember how much we were all entertained 
 by the exuberance of his wit, and his almost numberless bright and pithy 
 sayings. Sometimes he did not hesitate even to renew the sports of his boy- 
 ish days. Faithfully yours, 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT. 
 
270 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 Syracuse, September 19, 1862. 
 
 My dear Friend : I have now completed my hundredth year, and it may 
 seem odd that I should attempt to leave any thing more on record about the 
 departed; but, as you request it, I will try to put down what I remember con- 
 cerning Dr. Kirkland. In the year 1811 I was employed as a supply for the 
 pulpit at Cambridgeport. Dr. Kirkland had, a short time before that, been 
 appointed to the Presidency of Harvard College. As I lived within a mile or 
 two of him, I very soon made his acquaintance. I knew beforehand that his 
 religious views differed greatly from my own, but I became convinced at once 
 that, however great a heretic he might be, he was at least very friendly and 
 kind-hearted. I met him often, and never failed to be amused and interested 
 by his conversation. He was evidently a keen observer of the workings of 
 human nature. He abounded in bright, pithy sayings, that you could not 
 help thinking of after you had parted with him. I never saw the least mani- 
 festation of ill-will in him towards any human being. He would sometimes 
 be very keenly ironical, but there was never any bitterness in his irony. He 
 had treasured up a great many striking facts and anecdotes, and he was 
 never at a loss how to apply them. You would be very likely to feel that he 
 was the master spirit in any company, and yet there was nothing that looked 
 like an attempt to put himself forward. He was a very hospitable man, and 
 used sometimes to invite me to dinner by saying, — " Brother Waldo, come 
 and take trencher with me to-morrow." 
 
 One of my sons was graduated at Harvard College in 1818. He was known 
 to be orthodox during his whole course, but was treated by Dr. Kirkland, as 
 well as by the other members of the Faculty, with the greatest kindness and 
 consideration. After he graduated, he joined the Andover Theological Semi- 
 nary, and died before his course there was completed. 
 
 Dr. Kirkland once preached for me, and I think that was the only time that 
 I ever heard him. His discourse was sensible, and contained many striking 
 observations, but I scarcely thought that it did him justice. It was not the 
 sermon he intended to preach when he entered the pulpit, and it did not seem 
 familiar to him. Candour requires me to say that it was delivered in a clumsy 
 and uninteresting manner. I ventured to intimate to him that I thought he 
 had bestowed less labour upon it than he did upon the Memoir of Fisher 
 Ames. Affectionately, DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ALEXANDER YOUNG, D. D. 
 
 Boston, September 29, 1848. 
 
 My dear Sir: You are quite right in supposing that it is only a labour of 
 love for me to write something about my venerable friend, the late President 
 Kirkland. It was my privilege to pursue my academical and professional 
 studies at Cambridge during his administration. It has since been my 
 favoured lot to be his successor in the church where he preached for sixteen 
 3*ears. The melancholy duty devolved on me to officiate at his Funeral, and, 
 on the Sunday following, to pronounce his Eulogy. As the Discourse deliv- 
 ered on that occasion contains my most mature judgment concerning him, I 
 do not know how I can comply with your request better than by availing my- 
 self of some extracts from it. I shall not, however, attempt a thorough 
 delineation of his character, but only hint at a few of its more prominent 
 features. 
 
 Dr. Kirkland was distinguished above any other man whom I have ever 
 known as an Ethical Preacher. He possessed a thorough, intimate, marvellous 
 knowledge of man. He sounded the lowest depths of the soul, and searched 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIKKLAND. 
 
 271 
 
 its most obscure recesses. He detected men's hidden motives and secret 
 principles of action, and dragged them forth to the light. Such was his won- 
 derful and accurate knowledge of human nature, and his clear insight into 
 the springs of human action, that sometimes, when I have heard him preach, 
 it seemed to me that he had actually got his hand into my bosom, and that I 
 could feel him moving it about, and inserting his fingers into all the interstices 
 and crevices of my heart. 
 
 Dr. Kirkland uttered great moral maxims, and profound religious truths, 
 without any parade or preparation, without forewarning his hearers that he 
 was now going to bring forward some great thought or some new view, and 
 without reminding them afterwards that he had done so. He was apparently 
 unconscious and careless of those profound sayings of his which contained a 
 world of practical wisdom. 
 
 He was remarkable, too, for the comprehensiveness of his views, and the 
 universality of his judgments. He generalized on a large scale, and general- 
 ized every thing. He took a broad and liberal view of all subjects, and had a 
 world-embracing philosophy as well as charity. He could not endure details, 
 and cared little for isolated facts. I never met with a man, who, in social 
 intercourse, said so many things worthy to be remembered, and made so many 
 remarks that you could not forget. His conversation was a succession of 
 aphorisms, maxims, general remarks. 
 
 Dr. Kirkland's preaching was, like his conversation, sententious and full 
 of apothegms. There was not much visible logic, or induction, or method in 
 his discourses; and it was not uncommon for him to bring into the pulpit 
 half a dozen sermons or more, and, on the instant, construct from their pages 
 a new sermon, as he went along, turning the leaves backwards and forwards, 
 connecting them together by the thread of his extemporaneous discourse. 
 These scattered leaves resembled those of the Sybil not only in their confu- 
 sion, causing many to marvel how he could marshal and manage them so 
 adroitly, but also in their deep and hidden wisdom, and in the fact that when 
 two-thirds of what he had thus brought into the pulpit was omitted. — thrown 
 by as unworthy of delivery, — the remaining third, which he uttered, was 
 more precious than the entire pile of manuscript, containing, as it did, the 
 spirit and essence, the condensed and concentrated wisdom, of the whole. 
 Indeed condensation was his crowning faculty. It was here especially that 
 he manifested the supremacy of his intellect. He always spoke from a 
 crowded and overflowing mind. He poured himself forth in a full stream of 
 thought, which evidently flowed from a living and inexhaustible fountain. 
 
 I must say something of Dr. Kirkland as a man of letters — and here I am 
 ready to admit that he was not a very profound or thorough student. His 
 reading had not been systematic but desultory. He was rather a general 
 scholar than deeply versed in any particular department. He loved the light 
 and the sunshine of learning. He was not a proficient in any of the natural 
 or exact sciences, nor an adept in abstruse philosophy. He was not a mere 
 metaphysician, nor a mere mathematician, a logic-mill or calculating machine. 
 .He was no antiquary or geologist, — no pedant or literary drudge. But he 
 was something more than these, — something far higher and better. While he 
 was far from being deficient in any department of general knowledge, no 
 single subject had engrossed his attention, and monopolized his thoughts, and 
 narrowed and cramped his mind. He acquired his knowledge by intercourse 
 and conversation with intelligent and learned men, more than from books. 
 He had, too, the faculty of getting all the good out of a book, by rapidly 
 turning over its leaves, and running his eye over its pages, without reading it 
 in course from beginning to end. By a sort of literary intuition, he seemed to 
 compass the meaning of the author. 
 
272 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 As President of Harvard College, Dr. Kirkland unquestionably acquired 
 his highest distinction; and no brighter period has that venerable institu- 
 tion ever seen than the period of his administration. His influence on the 
 students was at once gentle and powerful. From the very beginning he treated 
 them as young gentlemen, and made them regard him as their friend. His 
 whole intercourse with them was suited to inspire them with mingled rever- 
 ence and affection, and to stimulate them to cultivate that elegant literature, 
 the benign effects of which they witnessed in his refined mind, and polished 
 language, and courtly address. They saw in him a finished specimen of the 
 Christian scholar and gentleman. He was uniformly kind and courteous to 
 them, tempering his native dignity with an urbane and delightful pleasantry. 
 
 Dr. Kirkland had the happy gift of quickty discerning the peculiarities of 
 individual characters, and of accommodating himself to them. He never 
 failed to recognize the countenance of a student, and to address him by name. 
 Such had been his large intercourse with the world, and his intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the leading men from all parts of the Commonwealth, and of New 
 England, that a young man could hardly come to the College with whom the 
 President could not, at his first interview, converse familiarly about his 
 friends and relatives. Such notices were gratifying to the feelings and encour- 
 aging to the heart of the student, who had just left the protection of his 
 father's roof, perhaps for the first time, and felt himself among strangers at 
 Cambridge. And many a young man was prevented from leaving College 
 with his education unfinished, by the timely and generous charity which he 
 imparted. "Whilst Dr. Kirkland had a dollar in his pocket, it was ever at 
 the command of the poor Cambridge scholar; and if, when he retired from 
 the Presidency, he was a poor man himself, it was because, instead of hoard- 
 ing his ample salary, as some would have done, and as he might have done 
 without blame, he poured it out like water to aid the necessitous. 
 
 The consequence of this was that the affection which the students cherished 
 towards him was almost without a limit. In the various disturbances and 
 collisions between the students and the Government, which occurred during 
 his administration, no one, either by word or deed, ever insulted the Presi- 
 dent. They treated him with universal respect, though he was the organ of 
 the obnoxious measures which they resisted. And he did not gain this uni- 
 versal popularity by any shuffling or shrinking from duty, — by thrusting the 
 inferior officers of the College between himself and the rebellious host, to 
 take the odium of the measures and bear the brunt of the battle. No — he 
 never shrunk from responsibility. It was by his mingled dignity and suavity 
 of deportment, by the entire confidence that was felt in his integrity and 
 goodness of heart, that he was thus secured from personal affront. I am 
 quite sure that the student who should have ventured any act of marked 
 disrespect towards him would have been scouted and scorned by the whole 
 College. 
 
 I might present various other phases of Dr. Kirkland 's character, but the 
 above will probably be sufficient for your purpose. 
 
 With the highest regard, your friend and brother, 
 
 ALEXANDER YOUNG. 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 273 
 
 FROM THE REV. ALVAN LAMSON, D. D.* 
 
 Dedham, February 14, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: I ought long ere this to have replied to your very kind and 
 flattering note. The truth is, I have been waiting in the hope of summoning 
 courage to undertake what you request, or at least of saying that I will do it. 
 My heart, however, fails me. There is no man whom it is more difficult to 
 describe than Dr. Kirkland. It is impossible, it seems to me, to convey to 
 one who did not know him an adequate impression of what he was. I vene- 
 rated and loved him, as I shall never venerate and love any other man. He 
 had a wonderful affluence of intellect, a shrewdness, penetration and almost 
 intuitive knowledge of character, united with a genial temper, " enlarged and 
 generous affections," (his own phrase) good humour and delicate and refined 
 taste, which rendered him the delight of his friends, and won the admiration 
 and love of all who were privileged to enjoy even a casual intercourse with 
 him. For pointed, condensed and brilliant thought, clothed in the most feli- 
 citous expression — shall I call it Horatian ? — he had few equals — none I 
 ever knew. But I despair of telling you what he was, and therefore shall 
 not attempt it. I am very much occupied just now, yet I would try to find 
 time to do what you ask, but really I cannot. I should do no sort of justice 
 to the subject. I like the plan of your work much, and am glad that Dr. 
 Kirkland is to appear among your sketches. It is a misfortune that his 
 manuscripts have not been preserved, though even from them it would be im- 
 possible to form a due estimate of his singular merits. To do this one must 
 have seen him and heard him converse. He had a kingly intellect, and to me 
 there was a fascination about him that was wholly irresistible. 
 
 Excuse me for my delay, and believe me when I say that I cannot do what 
 you require — I cannot give you a worthy idea of what Dr. Kirkland was. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 A. LAMSON. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CHARLES WENTWORTH UPHAM. 
 
 Salem, Mass., December 14, 1848. 
 
 My dear Sir : President Kirkland was in office during the period of my 
 academic, course as an undergraduate from 1817 to 1821. After receiving my 
 degree as Bachelor of Arts, I remained for three years at Cambridge, pursuing 
 my professional studies, and enjoying an almost daily intimacy with him, in 
 the delightful family circle of which he was a member, that of Professor Far- 
 rar. I feel myself competent, so far as opportunities of observation are con- 
 cerned, to speak of him with confidence. His intellectual and moral portrait 
 is as bright and clear before my mind, as the aspect of his countenance, the 
 tones of his voice, and his personal appearance and deportment, are upon my 
 memory. 
 
 In compliance with your request, I will attempt, in as short compass as 
 possible, to present a descriptive picture of the man. His person was of mid- 
 dle height, and of full dimensions, indicative of an excellent constitution, a 
 healthful condition, and a happy temperament; but not too full for either 
 grace or dignity. His complexion was fair, fresh and blooming to the last — 
 his countenance perfectly benignant, and radiant with cheerfulness and intel- 
 ligence. His articulation of voice and general habit of speaking, in private 
 conversation and in public discourse, often had an air of ease and indolence 
 
 * This brief letter, from the Rev. Dr. Lamson, though designed only to express his sense 
 of inability to do what I had requested of him, nevertheless brings out, with so much felicity, 
 some of the prominent traits of Dr. Kirkland's character, that I could not forbear asking 
 him to allow me to use it in connection with this sketch; and he has kindly, though some- 
 what reluctantly, given his consent. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 18 
 
274 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 which would have amounted to almost a disagreeable indication of inertness 
 and sluggishness, had it not been for the inner current of wisdom, genius, 
 wit, and vivacity, which gleamed through his words and sentences, and gave 
 to his whole manner' an exquisite and unrivalled charm. It was strength 
 without effort. Philosophy and eloquence, sense and humour, flowed spon- 
 taneously from his lips, and what in other men was the laborious product of 
 mental toil, in him, was the unconscious pastime of his faculties. 
 
 The beautiful symmetry of his original genius, the benignity of his spirit, 
 the felicity of his temperament, the inherent balance and mutual adaptation 
 of his mental powers and moral sentiments, as well as his just discrimination 
 of men and things, and acquired practical wisdom, imparted to his appear- 
 ance and deportment the best effect of the highest polish and the most finished 
 training. He was, by nature as well as by culture, a true and perfect gentle- 
 man; and from the first, in all companies, whether conversing with the 
 rudest labourer or moving through the spheres of the most artificial ceremony 
 or fashionable etiquette, in the society of the poor and lowly or amid the 
 magnificence of the rich, or the pomp of the great, there was a native and 
 involuntary grace and ease in his bearing, most striking, most admirable, and 
 most delightful. 
 
 President Kirkland was a thoroughly educated and accomplished scholar, 
 with that universal reading which placed him, under all circumstances, on 
 vantage ground, and gave to his genius and wisdom a favourable opportunity 
 to display themselves, whatever the topic, and whoever else might share in 
 the discussion. But the subject that he had studied more than all others, 
 and in which he shone pre-eminently above his contemporaries, was human 
 nature. He had studied it in books as well as in life. The department of 
 literature in which he most delighted, was that including works on the philo- 
 sophy of the mind, the faculties of the soul, the passions, propensities, affec- 
 tions and attributes of man. Of the motives of human action, and the traits 
 of human character, he had mastered the mysteries and exhausted the 
 science. Whoever conversed much with him found that, in addition to the 
 keenest observation practised during his whole life, in the uncommonly 
 auspicious circumstances of his social and official positions, he had digested, 
 and was ever ready to make practical application of, the speculations, com- 
 ments and suggestions of all ethical, metaphysical and philosophical writers. 
 
 He extracted wisdom from books as much as other learned men, but more 
 than all others he sought it from society. While minister of a large metro- 
 politan parish, and during his Presidency of the University, he was in the 
 daily habit of mingling in familiar converse with associates and acquaint- 
 ances; and the circle of friendship, gathered around the hospitable board, or 
 the public festival, was never thought to possess its crowning grace and 
 attraction, unless he was present to invoke a blessing from above, and irra- 
 diate the scene with the light of his beneficent wisdom and genial humour. 
 
 The salutary influences he exerted upon others, and the benefits he derived 
 to 'his own moral and intellectual nature, in the social sphere, which he filled 
 to such a remarkable degree, were altogether incalculable. It was in this 
 field mainly that he acquired and exerted a personal consideration, great 
 beyond parallel and beyond precedent. From the social circle he diffused an 
 enlightened liberality into the prevalent sentiment of Boston and New Eng- 
 land, the results of which are still seeu in a generous public spirit, fostering 
 all good institutions of learning and humanity. 
 
 In the earlier part of his public life, while minister of the New South 
 Society in Boston, he attained to this striking ascendency and commanding 
 position among the leading minds of the community. At that time, the Boston 
 churches were illuminated by a constellation of great preachers — among whom 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 275 
 
 were Buckminster, of learning most precocious, rare and wonderful, and 
 of eloquence and genius all but angelic, and Channing, whose fame spread 
 wide to the last, but whose heaven-breathing instructions were, from the 
 beginning, fraught with as much interest and power over his hearers as were 
 afterwards felt and confessed by a listening world. Dr. Kirkland could never 
 have been called an orator — he was indeed very far from it — his defects of 
 manner would have been much felt and criticised, had the matter of his dis- 
 courses been less striking and valuable. He made no attempts to impress the 
 public with admiration or veneration. Neither in the pulpit, nor out of it, 
 did he do any thing to get up a professional reputation, but still, in the midst 
 of such contemporaries as have been mentioned, by the weighty import of his 
 instructions, the peculiar benignity of his sentiments, the happy turn of his 
 thoughts, the frequent felicity of his expressions, and the profound philoso- 
 phy of his views, as a Preacher, and by the constant and all pervading effects 
 of his social powers, he maintained a steady and acknowledged pre-eminence. 
 
 His Presidency over Harvard University, covering a period of eighteen 
 years, will ever be regarded as a palmy and brilliant era in the history of 
 that venerable seat of learning. The liberality of his spirit, and the charming 
 courtesy of his manners, conciliated to its support innumerable patrons in the 
 various and even most distant portions of the country, and opened the foun- 
 tains of private and public beneficence, thus enlarging its sphere and multi- 
 plying its resources- He presided with graceful ease over the academic festi- 
 vals and exercises, and the internal, educational and disciplinary administration 
 of the College. His unrivalled knowledge of human nature was displayed 
 most signally, and brought into use with extraordinary advantage, in his 
 intercourse with the scholars. They very soon discovered that he could not 
 be imposed upon, and that, however specious the-.r pretences, or skilfully 
 disguised their schemes and motives, he saw through them at a glance. At 
 the same time, their confidence and affection were secured, and their grateful 
 admiration awakened and kept alive, by the enlightened forbearance, the un- 
 failing good-humour, and the even, kind and gentle spirit with which he 
 treated them. While he kept the tendencies to gayety incident to the years 
 of those committed to his charge, within the bounds of decency, propriety and 
 the academic laws, it was known to all that his cheerful and loving heart sym- 
 pathized with every innocent enjoyment, and regarded his youthful charge, even 
 when misled by thoughtlessness or ensnared by folly, not with uncompromis- 
 ing severity, but with the considerateness and charitableness which the recol- 
 lection of its own early days ever ought to mingle with the soberest judgments 
 of advanced life; and when punishments became necessary, they were admin- 
 istered with a reluctant and compassionate sensibility, which invariably pro- 
 duced a deep impression upon the offender, and kindled in his breast a response 
 of filial respect and love, even at the moment when incurring the heaviest 
 penalties. 
 
 I might relate many instances of Dr. Kirkland's marvellous penetration 
 into character and motives, and of the felicitous manner in which he brought 
 it to bear in the government of the College — I will mention only the follow- 
 ing: A youth of •amiable sentiments and excellent purposes, under the 
 influence of peculiar temptation, was induced, on a certain occasion, to fall 
 in with the equivocal ethics prevalent in such communities. A public ball was 
 about to " come off" in the town to which he belonged, presenting attractions 
 so resistless that he was determined, at all events, to be there. He waited 
 upon the President, and represented that the state of his health required him 
 to suspend his studies and return to his family. This is an expedient often 
 resorted to in all small societies, but his better nature bore an inward and 
 silent protest against the artifice, even at the moment when practising it. The 
 
276 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 penetrating eye of the President detected the secret embarrassment which a 
 sense of guilt was revealing, while the pretended invalid was flattering him- 
 self with the belief that he was acting his part with complete success. Upon 
 hearing the statement of the symptoms of his indisposition, the President, 
 readily, and in the pleasantest and most complying manner, took a pen, wrote 
 the desired leave of absence, and, as he handed it to him, observed, "Physi- 
 cians have remarked this peculiarity in the climate of Cambridge, — that sick- 
 nesses prevail, within the precincts of the College, in a greater proportion to 
 the deaths than in any other place." — This was said with a smile so signifi- 
 cant, and a look so keen, as to leave no alternative to the mortified youth, 
 but to escape as soon as possible from the presence before which he stood con- 
 victed, and to hide his head in confusion and shame. The brilliant scenes of 
 the ball-room, the dazzling whirl of the dance, could not obliterate the lesson 
 he had received, and he returned to College, resolved never to resort to pre- 
 varication or deception to compass an end, and especially never to attempt 
 again to impose upon the President. 
 
 In his administration of the religious services of the University, President 
 Kirkland kept the universal mind of the College, from the youngest students 
 to the most learned Professors, constantly alive to a just appreciation of 
 his intellectual powers, of the brilliancy of his genius, and the stores of his 
 wisdom. The manuscripts of his sermons, and especially his occasional dis- 
 courses and valedictory addresses to graduating classes, will be found to con- 
 tain passages of exquisite beauty and richness, and trains of reasoning and 
 philosophy, with comments upon life, manners and literature, of priceless 
 value. A considerable number of Sermons at Ordinations and other special 
 and public occasions, and fugitive pieces of various kinds, are memorials of his 
 talents and attainments. But his chief monument is the Memoir of Fisher 
 Ames. Within a brief compass it embraces treasures of thought and expres- 
 sion that render it a classical and immortal performance. No brighter genius 
 has risen upon our country, no purer name shines on its annals, than Fisher 
 Ames. His Speech on the British Treaty has surely never been surpassed, — 
 I feel justified in saying that it has never been equalled, — in the history of 
 Congressional eloquence. The Memoir by Dr. Kirkland maintains a similar 
 ascendency in the department of Biography. 
 
 In conclusion, I would express the opinion that, in the whole range of litera- 
 ture, the writer who most nearly resembles him in the nature of his genius, 
 and the traits and habits of his mind, is Abraham Tucker. His writings were 
 much studied and admired by Dr. Kirkland. Whoever reads the " Light of 
 Nature Pursued," feels that it is the most instructive and delightful of all 
 works of its class. Those who remember the society and the discourses of 
 Dr. Kirkland, also feel that he was the most instructive and delightful of 
 teachers. The English and the American philosophers were each truly 
 deserving of that name, for their wisdom was equalled only by their benignity. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 CHARLES W. UPHAM. 
 
 FROM THE REV. WILLIAM AUGUSTUS STEARNS, D. D. 
 
 PRESIDENT 03? AMHERST COLLEGE. 
 
 Amherst College, June 5, 1857. 
 My dear Sir: It did not occur to me when I was carelessly relating an anec- 
 dote or two of the late President Kirkland, some weeks since, at your cheer- 
 ful hearthstone, that you might demand these reminiscences for your- deeply 
 interesting and instructive volumes. But as I have no good excuse for refusing 
 to comply with your wishes, so courteously and kindly expressed, or for 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 277 
 
 withholding any knowledge in my possession which might serve to illustrate 
 and adorn the character of a gentleman whom I have so greatly venerated 
 and loved, I shall proceed to give you a few recollections of him, though some 
 of them are more personal, as respects myself, than I am quite willing to 
 obtrude upon the public. 
 
 I entered Harvard College at the Annual Commencement in 1823. At this 
 time Dr. Kirkland appeared to me as a highly cultivated literary gentleman, 
 of graceful' manners, dignified bearing, and a bland and almost fascinating 
 countenance. He was considerably past the middle age, the top of his head 
 nearly bald, the bushy side-locks almost white, rather short in stature, a 
 little inclined to corpulency, though not gross, of firm step, quick and lively 
 eye, round, full face, fresh complexion, and an expression which indicated a 
 genial, generous nature, somewhat careless of self, but well-disposed towards 
 all his -fellow-men. The moment a student saw him, he respected him, feared 
 him, loved him, and gave him a large measure of his confidence. During the 
 entire four years of my residence at Cambridge, I never knew of his being 
 treated with the slightest disrespect by any member of College. 
 
 No one who knew Dr. Kirkland would question the soundness of his judg- 
 ment, the brilliance of his genius, when called into action, or the elegance of 
 his scholarship in the department of arts and letters. He was thought by the 
 students to have » very keen insight into character, and no one, without a 
 pretty good conscience, liked to encounter his piercing eye. He would not 
 look at you steadily with apparent intention to read you, but with an 
 almost indifferent hasty glance or two, by which, however, he learned to 
 gather material enough for just conclusions. If a student, wishing << to get 
 his name out," as the expression for leave of absence then was, multiplied 
 reasons for the favour, he was almost certain to be refused". If he wished to 
 go home " because his father was sick," or << because his sister was a going to 
 be married," or << because his eyes had failed him," or for any other one good 
 reason, he was likely to obtain his request. But if he wished to go " because 
 he was quite unwell," and " because he wished to get some clothing," and << be- 
 cause his brother was going abroad and he wished to see him once more before 
 he sailed," &c, it was hardly probable that the young man's heart would be 
 cheered by the benevolent response, — << You can go." 
 
 President Kirkland used to amuse himself sometimes at the expense of the 
 students, especially when they called and happened to find him at leisure, 
 soon after dinner; for, being a good liver, though temperate, he was cheerful 
 after meals. On one such occasion, I called at his study to obtain leave of 
 absence a few days before the term closed. He hesitated and made sundry 
 inquiries. He knew also the character of my religious education and predi- 
 lections. At length, << moving upon me in the line of my " supposed «■ preju- 
 dices," he said, " I don't know, Stearns, about letting you go now. Perhaps 
 no evil would come of it, but I don't know what might be the consequences. 
 You know that there is a special providence. I once heard of a. person, who 
 was going along by a tree, when some men were cutting it down, and just as 
 he went by, the tree suddenly fell and killed him. Now there was a special 
 providence in it. If he had gone a little before or a little after, he would 
 have been safe, but, going just as he did, he lost his life." I looked at him, 
 and saw there was fun in his eye, and thought he would not be offended by 
 an answer in kind. " Well Sir," said I, with the utmost solemnity, << if you 
 think there will be danger in my going just at the time I have mentioned, I 
 can go, if you please, a little b'fore." » Well, well, Stearns," said he " so 
 you can — there is something in that — you may go, you may go." 
 
 Of his benevolence I once had personal experience. It was, I think, in my 
 Sophomore year. My father was a clergyman, with a large family and a small 
 
278 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 salary, and could do but little to help his sons through College besides furnish- 
 ing their clothing and paying some of their incidental expenses. I had two 
 term bills against me on the College Books, and knew of no way in which I 
 could pay them. My father offered me his name to hire money with, but I 
 was unwilling to take it, as I knew that he was embarrassed already, and 
 that the incurring of further liabilities would trouble him. He then advised 
 me to apply to the Education Society for help, but, for reasons then existing 
 in my own mind, I could not think of it. No mode of relief seemed to pre- 
 sent itself but to leave College, and teach school for a year. I went to Presi- 
 dent Kirkland, and told him freely my circumstances, and asked his advice as 
 to leaving College immediately. He heard my story in silence, and then sat 
 down to his table and wrote a note. "Here," said he, "take this to the 
 Treasurer and go about your studies." It proved to be an order for the com- 
 plete cancelling of both my bills. Whether the expense came from his own 
 purse or not I never knew. He was certainly benevolent enough for such an 
 act. But, as his means were small, he may have advanced this sum from 
 funds placed in his hands by generous individuals for such purposes. Of this 
 I have no question, — if the wealthy and the good could but realize what a load 
 such assistance often lifts from a young student's heart, and could they see 
 what I now see every day, noble young men struggling against poverty for 
 an education, often disheartened and sometimes crushed by their embarrass- 
 ments, — ample means of relief could not fail to be furnished. 
 
 Of Dr. Kirkland, as a Preacher, I have a vivid recollection. I always 
 attended closely to his sermons, and, as elegant productions, full of wise and 
 sententious remarks, expressed with inimitable beauty, they charmed me. 
 His sentences were generally short, often antithetic, terse and to the point, 
 but seemingly mixed and not manifestly consecutive. He appeared to me, in 
 some of his discourses, as a great writer of proverbs, second only to Solomon. 
 It was humorously said that he wrote his sermons on the backs of old letters, 
 and fitted them as he went along. "What he said of Fisher Ames, in the 
 incomparable biography of that distinguished statesman, would apply well to 
 his own style: "He aimed rather at the terseness, strength and vivacity of 
 the short sentence than the dignity of the full and flowing period. His style 
 is conspicuous for sententious brevity, antithesis and point. Single ideas 
 appear with so much lustre and prominence that the connection of the several 
 parts of his discourse is not always obvious to the common mind, and the 
 aggregate impression of the composition is not always completely obtained. 
 In these respects, when his peculiar excellences come near to defects, he is 
 rather to be admired than imitated." 
 
 Dr. Kirkland's discourses in the chapel were rarely controversial, nor were 
 they, in any considerable degree, of a sectarian type. I have heard him throw 
 out a remark like this, — " that the doctrine of the Trinity was now to be 
 classed with the exploded doctrine of Transubstantiation." But, generally, 
 so far as I now remember, and judging from my orthodox stand point, his 
 sermons consisted of short maxims, brilliant apothegms, striking intimations, 
 warnings or encouragements, in the department of morals, and of special 
 practical benefit to students as guides of life. What he says of the virtuous 
 young man, in the life of Ames, may be taken as a fair sample of his manner 
 in some of the particulars mentioned. " He does not call dissipation, enjoy- 
 ment, nor revelry, mirth. He has begun to take counsel of prudence and 
 send his thoughts beyond the present moment;" and of Ames himself, 
 " Happily he did not need the smart of guilt to make him virtuous, nor the 
 regret of folly to make him wise." On other subjects, he was often equally 
 concentrated and striking. Speaking once of affliction, and of God's benevo- 
 lence, he says, " Remember that the same hand which darts the lightning, 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 279 
 
 paints the rose." He would stand in the pulpit almost motionless, and, in a 
 careless manner, would throw these sparkling gems around him, seemingly 
 unconscious of the brilliance they emitted. 
 
 He was not fond of hard work, and has left but few memorials of his real 
 genius. He can hardly be appreciated by posterity, as he was by those who 
 knew him personally. I think he had also some defects of character or of 
 training, particularly want of method, exactness and energy, in the daily 
 routine of his duties. But, after all, he was, in many respects, a model Presi- 
 dent. Perhaps no one, who ever held that office in the University, received 
 more perfectly the respect and love of his pupils. 
 
 President Kirkland was stricken down by paralysis near the close of my 
 college course. Signing the diplomas of my class was, I think, about the last 
 service which he performed for the Institution. He lived several years after 
 this, but never recovered his former vitality and brilliance. 
 
 Please accept this hasty sketch, and believe me yours most cordially, 
 
 WILLIAM A. STEARNS. 
 
 FROM MISS ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 Boston, June 3, 1854. 
 
 My dear Sir: My first impulse' was to say 'Yes,' when you asked me for 
 my reminiscences of Dr. Kirkland; for I felt as if my heart's tribute were 
 due to him on any opportunity. 
 
 I became acquainted with him in 1822, when, just entering upon my pro- 
 fession of teaching, I went to Boston, and was taken, by favour, to board in a 
 private family, where he had boarded when he was the Pastor of the Second 
 Church in Boston, and where he always had a room and welcome home in 
 vacation times. His lovely disposition and temper was shown in the imme- 
 diate interest he took in teaching my ignorance of the world in general, and 
 of Boston in particular, by his larger experience of these scenes of his past 
 and my future duties. 
 
 He talked to me largely of the history and the characteristics of families. 
 His mode of considering character with a view to always help out what was 
 beautiful and good, and check what was foolish and evil, was brought out in 
 his conversation upon the society about us, so that it was robbed of the 
 character of gossip, while it dwelt constantly on individualities, and helped 
 me to such a perception of these as would facilitate my beneficent activity 
 among them. There was nothing keener than his diamond wit; but though, 
 like the sunshine, it revealed the limitations of every thing, it was so per- 
 vaded with love that, like' the sunshine, it cherished every germ of life into 
 its most perfect expression, covering the granite ugliness of nature with the 
 green beauty of Charity. Dr. Kirkland did not need to ignore the evil that 
 existed, or exaggerate the good, in order to overflow with kindness; and his 
 kindness was unconsciously exercised, and never seemed to remember itself. 
 His benevolence was like the geniality of Shakespeare's genius, which does 
 justice with loving fidelity to all forms of existence. But instead of disqui- 
 sition, let me tell instances. 
 
 Very early in our acqaintance, he asked me if I knew of a person who 
 wanted a good chamber girl or nurse, and then told me of a washer-woman he 
 had used to employ, when living in Boston, who had just died, and left to his 
 care her daughters, whom she had supported, and kept at home, very retired, as 
 sempstresses, while she went out to work herself. And this was for the sake 
 of keeping them from evil company. Said he, '■ I have admired her motherly 
 devotion, and so have been delinquent in not foreseeing this future necessity of 
 their's. It would have been better if I had advised her to put them to service, 
 while she was alive to watch and warn them. Now," said he, >' if you hear 
 
280 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 of any persons who may serve as their mistresses, you can perhaps find out 
 something of their pedigree and relationships; for I know almost every body 
 by some of their connections." I had occasion, in answering this demand of 
 his, to tell him of several persons, and there was not one whose character 
 and temper he did not analyze with reference to their probably wise and con- 
 siderate treatment of these young people, whose virtue and happiness seemed 
 equally his care as if they had been young princesses. It was this exquisite 
 attention to individualities that made his government of the young men of 
 College so genial and powerful, — and in the above instance, as well as many 
 others I could name, it was evident that this pervading love which he mani- 
 fested was no respecter of persons. Still I find I can tell none of the many 
 stories I know; because his action was so individual that every case involves 
 a long story, and many details, in order to be appreciated. 
 
 He pervaded the large social sphere which his abilities made for him with 
 a subtle light and warmth of wisdom and love, that, as I have already said, 
 was like the sunshine, silent, impalpable, but glorifying and cherishing. It 
 was his individuality to be impersonal, if that is not a paradox. His passions 
 were in such perfect balance, and so little shadowed his reason, that one 
 would have suspected him to be passionless, but for the sympathy and under- 
 standing evinced in his skill in Dot rousing them, or in disarming them with 
 the lightning rods of his wit. The power of his preaching consisted in that 
 delicate touch which immediately took the mind to his point of vision, and 
 enlisted the reason and imagination to the application of principle to action. 
 His preaching was always ethical rather than theological. I remember one 
 of his sermons began — << To think of our duties and not of our claims, — this 
 is at once the secret of virtue and happiness." Another began — "Jesus 
 Christ, who is the way, the truth and the life, to all who believe in Him, 
 gives us our method in such precepts as these " — and here followed the most 
 felicitous quotations, occasionally elucidated by calling our attention to the 
 circumstances in which the words were spoken. Another Sermon began — 
 "We have as much piety as charity, and no more." Frequently his texts, 
 which were uniformly ethical, were repeated over again, in various para- 
 phrases, showing the universality of their application to all spheres and 
 degrees of human action and condition, and involving an internal evidence of 
 their Divine inspiration, by manifesting their exhaustlessness in this respect. 
 To the well disposed and intellectual part of his hearers his preaching was 
 extremely interesting — whether it was of a kind to convert a soul, immersed 
 in evil passions, from the error of its ways, is, to my mind, more doubtful. 
 
 The Doctor's wit sometimes was satirical, but his arrows were never 
 poisoned. Some persons said he lacked the moral courage to deal hand and 
 hand, and face to face, with evil. I think it was not so much lack of moral 
 courage, as a delicate personal modesty, and a genuine respect for a Cire.it 
 Presence that he believed to exist within the veil of every individual conscious- 
 ness, and which he would tempt forth by electrical touches to self-respecting 
 manifestation. There was not a particle of the Pharisee in him, nor a word 
 of cant. He had no egotism, and hence his temper seemed never to be tried. 
 He was not in the least degree exacting or irritable in his temper; and hence 
 his dignity was beyond insult, and his power over the young complete, when- 
 ever, and as far as, it was exerted. There was nothing impertinent or med- 
 dling in his guardianship; but it was sleepless; and to his pupils he seemed 
 to have a sort of omniscience and ubiquity. 
 
 In his lifetime he often expressed his horror of paralysis. He was in the 
 habit of visiting, for many years, a paralytic Professor at Cambridge, and 
 scarcely ever left him without saying, — <• May I be saved from this death in 
 life, so much worse than death;" but when this very fate overtook him, he 
 
JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 281 
 
 was never heard to complain. In the wreck of nature, during so many years, 
 when every thing characteristic of his brilliant mind gradually faded out of 
 his conversation, a gentleness, sweetness, philosophic resignation, remained, 
 reminding one of Moore's image of the vase, in which roses had once been 
 distilled : — 
 
 1 Tou may break, you may ruin, the vase, if you will; 
 ' The scent of the roses will hang round it still.' 
 
 After all, I have given you no reminiscences of facts. I find I cannot tell 
 you the details of his kindness to myself even; for in order to do justice to its 
 genuineness and delicacy, I should have to give you my own memoirs for the 
 time. Dr. Kirkland once gave as a toast at an Ordination dinner — "The 
 fundamental doctrine of the Anti-sectarian Sect — that goodness consists in 
 doing good;" and this was so manifested in his own case that he could only 
 be appreciated by seeing him in his relations; and to write of these involves a 
 history of every one about him. The selfish, the cold-hearted, the egotisti- 
 cal, could not know Dr. Kirkland : if there was any thing, on the other 
 hand, that he could not estimate, it was malignity — he lacked the key to 
 unlock that mystery. 
 
 I end where Dr. Lamson wisely began* — I cannot describe Dr. Kirkland, 
 as my attempt has demonstrated. I send you the demonstration, however, 
 as my eloquent excuse for breaking my promise. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 HEZEKIAH PACKAKD, D. D.f 
 
 1793—1849. 
 
 Hezekiah Packard, a son of Jacob and Dorothy Packard, was born 
 at North Bridgewater, Mass., on the 6th of December, 1761. He was the 
 youngest of ten children. His father, who was a farmer in moderate 
 circumstances, died while this son was yet in his childhood; but his mother 
 lived to the age of ninety-three, retaining her faculties till the close of life, 
 and was remarkable for her vigorous sense, her strength of character, and 
 her piety. The early advantages of both his parents for intellectual culture 
 had been very limited, but they were both diligent students of the Scrip- 
 tures, and regularly taught their children the Assembly's Catechism. 
 
 At the commencement of the Revolutionary War, in 1775, though he 
 was a mere stripling, he enlisted as a soldier in the army. At different 
 times, he was stationed at Cambridge, Bunker Hill, Castle William, (now 
 Fort Independence,) New York, Providence, Newport, &c. His connection 
 with the army closed about the end of the year 1776 ; and, at that time, 
 he had no other expectation than to settle down for life as a farmer. 
 
 In 1780, there was a powerful revival of religion in his native place, from 
 which he dated the commencement of his own Christian life. Of his 
 experience, as connected with that revival, he made the following record, 
 
 * Miss Peahody had read Dr. Lamson's letter before her own was written, 
 f Memoir of his Life. — Ms. from his son, Professor A. Packard. 
 
282 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 when lie was far advanced in years : — Having referred to a particular 
 meeting, he says, — 
 
 " There followed a remarkable season of refreshing from the Divine presence. More 
 than one hundred, I believe, united themselves to the church, in the course of a few 
 months, supposed to be the fruits of that revival. And what I ought to state and 
 acknowledge with lively gratitude, my own mind was deeply and solemnly impressed. 
 I had, for days and weeks, strong convictions of sin. I felt myself in a state of alienation 
 from God, and exposed to awful perdition. I was, indeed, among the number of those 
 who anxiously and prayerfully inquired what they must do to be saved. And I think 
 I may add, as in the presence of God, that there was a time when the Diviue justice 
 and rectitude seemed to require that sueh a sinner should suffer the penalties of that 
 law, which is holy, just and good, and be cut off as a cumberer of the ground. But, 
 glory to God, I was spared, and was made a hopeful subject of Divine gracp. I had 
 some encouraging evidence that God in Christ did appear for me in mercy. The burden 
 of sin, which had. borne with oppressive weight upon my soul, was removed, and I 
 think I found peace in believing. I did feel myself in a new state of being. The 
 objects of nature and the whole scene around me, wore a smiling aspect. Calmness, 
 peace and serenity, prevailed in my own mind; and I wondered others were not more 
 anxious to secure and enjoy religion as the one thing needful. And, although I have 
 not lived according to such views, exercises and hopes, I desire to look and rely 
 on Christ, who stands in the gap between the sinner and perdition, and is a powerful 
 and prevailing intercessor at God's right hand. Through his mediation and sacrifice, 
 and through the influence of the Holy Spirit, there is a redeeming power. And my 
 sole dependence for salvation is upon his kind interposition, atoning sacrifice and 
 continual intercessions." 
 
 Though Mr. Packard, at the time of leaving the army, fully expected to 
 spend his days on a farm, a circumstance occurred in 1782, which obliged 
 him to abandon the idea, and put him upon obtaining a collegiate educa- 
 tion. In making a wall, he strained his arm at the elbow to such a degree 
 as to disqualify him entirely for agricultural pursuits. By reason of this, 
 he soon after began to prepare for College, under the instruction of the 
 Rev. (afterwards Dr.) John Reed, of the West Parish of Bridgewater, and 
 in one year he had gone through the requisite course of study. He joined 
 the Freshman class at Cambridge in 1783, and was graduated in 1787. As 
 he had little or no patrimony, he was obliged to avail himself of certain 
 privileges which were granted to indigent students, and to teach a school 
 during a part of each winter ; but he still maintained a high standing in 
 his class. 
 
 The first year after his graduation, he taught the grammar— school 
 in Cambridge, and the next was an Assistant Librarian in the College. 
 He entered the Tutorship in the mathematical department in 1789, and 
 continued to hold it four years. During this period, his studies were 
 directed with reference to the ministry ; and, in the latter part of the 
 time, he derived great advantage from the lectures and more private 
 instructions of Dr. Tappan, who, in 1792, was inaugurated as Hollis 
 Professor of Theology. 
 
 In October, 1793, he was ordained to the work of the ministry, and 
 
 installed as Pastor of the Church in Chelmsford, Mass. The next year 
 
 he was married to Mary, daughter of the Rev. Alpheus Spring,* of Kittery, 
 
 West parish, (now Eliot,) Me. She was a lady of superior talents and high 
 
 cultivation, and presided in her place over her household with great dignity 
 
 and affection, 
 
 •Alpheus Spems was a native of Watertown, Mass., and was a brother of Dr. Marshall 
 Spring, who was distinguished alike as a Physician and a Politician ; graduated at the College 
 of New Jersey in 1766; was settled at Eliot, as colleague of the Rev. John Rogers, June 29, 
 1768; and died suddenly of a fever June 14, 1791. He was much beloved by his people, and 
 highly respected by his brethren in the ministry. 
 
HEZEKIAH PACKARD. 
 
 283 
 
 Mr. Packard remained at Chelmsford between eight and nine years, 
 when, chiefly on account of pecuniary embarrassment, he was led to seek a 
 dismission from his people. A mutual council dissolved his relation to 
 them in July, 1802, and, in September following, he was installed at 
 Wiscasset, Me., the Sermon on the occasion being preached by Professor 
 Tappan, of Harvard College. 
 
 After having been at Wiscasset three or four years, he yielded to the 
 solicitation of several of his friends to take charge of a private school ; and, 
 iu the course of a short time, that gave place to an Academy, of which he 
 was Principal for several years. The double labour devolved upon him by 
 his school and his paribh was too severe a tax upon his constitution, and 
 brought upon him some complaints from which he never fully recovered. 
 After he withdrew from the Academy, he opened a private school in his 
 own house, and fitted a large number of young men for College. 
 
 In the year 1818, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity 
 from Harvard College. 
 
 The year 1828 was signalized by an extensive revival of religion at 
 Wiscasset, which resulted in a very large addition to the Congregational 
 Church. Mr. Packard fully believed that it was a genuine work of the 
 Lord, entered into it with great interest, and had the pleasure to reckon 
 among its subjects two of his own children. 
 
 The same year he was afflicted by the death of his wife ; and, in 1834, 
 by the death of his youngest son, a promising youth of eighteen, who was 
 at that time a member of the Junior class in Bowdoin College. On both 
 these occasions, though he showed himself a hearty mourner, he expressed 
 the most unqualified resignation to the Divine will. 
 
 In the spring of 1830 he resigned his charge at Wiscasset. and removed 
 to Middlesex village, a part of his former parish at Chelmsford, where he 
 took charge of a small church, consisting partly of those who had formerly 
 been under his pastoral care. Here he remained in much comfort six 
 years ; but, in the autumn of 1836, he was induced, chiefly in consideration 
 of his advanced age and increasing infirmities, to relinquish his charge, and 
 retire from active labour altogether. During his remaining years, he 
 resided among his children, successively at Saco, Me. ; Salem, Mass. ; and 
 Brunswick, Me. ; making occasional visits to his other children and his 
 former parishioners and friends. 
 
 In July, 1848, he left Brunswick to make a succession of visits to his 
 children and friends, and, in the autumn, concluded to spend the ensuing 
 winter with a daughter in Salem. He was as well as usual, except that the 
 infirmities of age were gradually increasing upon him. On the 8th of April, 
 1849, he had attended Divine service, and had received the Communion. In 
 the evening he was seized with a paroxysm of pain, which was repeated 
 two or three times during the succeeding fortnight. On the afternoon of 
 the Sabbath, April 22d, he suffered, for two hours, extreme agony, and, 
 after that, continued gradually to sink in the full possession of his con- 
 sciousness, aud in the joyful hope of a better life, till the 25th, when he 
 breathed his last, having lived more than eighty-seven years. Agreeably to 
 his own request, his remains were removed to Wiscasset for interment, and. a 
 Sermon was preached on the occasion by the Bev. Dr. Adams, of Brunswick. 
 
284 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Packard's publications : — 
 The Plea of Patriotism : A Thanksgiving Sermon preached at Chelms- 
 ford, 1795. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Andrew Beattie, 
 [who was a native of Chelmsford, was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1795 ; was ordained, and installed Pastor of the Church in Salisbury, 
 June 28, 1797 ; and died March 16, 1801.] Federal Republicanism : 
 Two Past Sermons, preached at Chelmsford, 1799. The Christian's 
 Manual, 12mo., 1801. A Sermon preached at the Interment of Mrs. 
 Betsey Wood, 1802. A Sermon preached in Camden, Me., at the Ordina- 
 tion of Thomas Cochran, 1805. Two Sermons on Infant Baptism, preached 
 at Wiscasset, about 1815. Dedicatory Address at the Opening of the 
 Female Academy in Augusta, 1816. 
 
 FROM PROFESSOR ALPHEUS S. PACKARD, 
 or Bowdoin College. 
 
 Bowdoin College, March 10, 1855. 
 
 My dear Sir: At your request, I will communicate my recollections and 
 impressions of my father's domestic and ministerial character. I shall 
 endeavour to give a true portraiture of him in these aspects, making free use of 
 the unpublished Memoir, which was printed soon after his decease for the use 
 of his friends. 
 
 I think any one conversant with him must have perceived that he had strong 
 social affections, entire honesty and sincerity of heart, the absence, in an 
 uncommon degree, of selfishness a true nobleness of nature, all strengthened 
 and elevated by great earnestness and energy of character. His was a happy 
 home. "With all their hearts his children can join in the expression used in 
 prayer at the funeral service, when thanks were offered in their behalf that 
 they had had such a father. To this hour we feel the influence of his precepts 
 and example. It is our pleasure and pride to testify to his constant and faith- 
 ful watch over us in childhood and youth; his thorough discipline tempered 
 with love and the lively and affectionate interest in our behalf, which ever 
 followed us. There was in him a singular union of the genial, the affable, 
 inviting confidence, and the sportive, with a spirit of command, which secured 
 entire respect and prompt obedience of all, whether children or pupils. I 
 think that of the many young men who were members of his family, as 
 private pupils, but one had the impudence to treat him with disrespect. 
 
 The traits which, in combination with his native dignity and his fine 
 manners, gave him marked influence in social life, even to his latest days, 
 were his cheerful temperament and his quick and active sympathy. Although 
 familiar with trials from severe bodily infirmities for forty years, from afflic- 
 tive bereavements, and from narrowness of pecuniary circumstances, from 
 which he never was exempt, he always bore a cheerful countenance, ever 
 lighting up with a smile at the call of a friend, or the entrance even of one of 
 the household. His native buoyancy of spirit, combined with habitual trust 
 in the providence of God, enabled him to throw off, or bear cheerfully, burdens 
 grievous to most men. In whatever situation he was he had learned there- 
 with to be content. This was apparent in his closing years. Age has the 
 prescriptive right to be somewhat querulous and irritable. We could not but 
 notice, however, when he was a resident in our families, that he was remark- 
 ably free from all such infirmities. Within a week of his death, he invited a 
 caller at the house to step into his room, and see " the comfortable old man's 
 
 home." The late Hon. Mr. M , of Boston, remarked to a friend, soon 
 
 after our father had visited him, — " Dr. P. is one of the best philosophers I have 
 
HEZEKIAH PACKARD. 285 
 
 seen. He has nothing hut a paltry pension to depend upon for his support, 
 and the care of his children, who have but little else to bestow, and yet he is 
 as happy as if the world were at his disposal." 
 
 I alluded to his active sympathy. He always cherished a lively interest in 
 passing events, and in those around him, never secluding himself, nor ever 
 seeming to feel too old to meet and fulfil the claims of society upon him. The 
 friends of his youth, and most of those of middle life, had gone; but though, 
 during his last twelve years, his home was with his children, in their several 
 places of residence, he formed new acquaintances with surprising facility, read- 
 ily imbibed the sympathies of the community in which he lived, participated, 
 so far as infirmities would permit, in all schemes of good, mourned with those 
 that mourned, and rejoiced with those that rejoiced, and was a pattern to all 
 in his observance of the minor obligations and duties which contribute so 
 largely to the happiness of social life. Few have gone down to the grave, at 
 his age, with so many personal friends. 
 
 He was of a true public spirit. He was an originator of the Bible Society of 
 Lincoln County, Me., and of the Eastern Evangelical Society, which existed for 
 a few years. His desire to promote the cause of Education, and to benefit the 
 young, led him to send to England for documents relating to Lancasterian 
 Schools, so much celebrated at the time, and also those relating to Sunday- 
 Schools, of which interesting accounts had reached this country. This was 
 several years before they were attempted among ourselves. The cause of 
 Education, especially in its moral and religious aspects, from first to last, 
 enlisted his energies. He loved the young. For nearly fifty years, he was 
 connected with various literary institutions in their Boards of Trust. He was 
 member of the Board of Trustees and Overseers of Bowdoin College more than 
 twenty years, and much of the time was actively engaged in the work of 
 training youth, in which he was eminently successful. Prom the day of his 
 admission to the University to the close of his life, he was a college man, 
 always glowing with youthful interest in college scenes, reminiscences and 
 attachments. I doubt whether any young man ever fell into his company 
 without receiving from his lips a word to encourage him in the path of 
 diligence and virtue. He always took notice even of children; and, but a few 
 days before his death, he remarked to a friend in Salem that even the children 
 in the street met him with a smile. I shall, however, refer to his active 
 labours in the cause of Education in another connection. 
 
 As it regards his character as a minister of Christ, I am confident that all 
 who knew him, and who saw him in his most unguarded hours, would bear 
 their testimony cordially to the general statement that his daily walk was 
 never at variance with his public and more formal life. It is nearly twenty 
 years since he ceased from active labour. It is well known that the scheme 
 of pastoral duty, during a large portion of his ministry, differed in many 
 particulars from that of later years. Meetings for conference and prayer were 
 not common. Seasons of special religious interest were scarcely known. The 
 different associations for iucreasing and extending the influence of the Gospel, 
 which signalize the present day, and multiply so much the demands on the 
 time and effort of the clergy, had not been formed. Monthly Concerts of 
 Prayer had not been established. The stated labours of the pulpit, lectures in 
 different parts of the parish, pastoral visits and special care of public schools 
 and higher seminaries of learning, constituted the field of labour to which the 
 Pastor was called. The minister, moreover, was expected to exert a more 
 direct influence in the general concerns of his people than would be permitted 
 now. For this wide range of duty my father was peculiarly fitted by the 
 traits of character I have mentioned. He entered on the labours of the 
 ministry with all his heart, and with a high standard of duty. To say nothing 
 
286 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 of the merits of his public performances, he was diligent and conscientious in 
 preparing for the pulpit. He loved to study, and was systematic in the 
 division of his time, never allowing any call of pleasure to interfere with the 
 louder call of duty. I have often heard him say that, when an undergraduate, 
 and yet more, in the Tutorship, at Harvard, he made it a study how he could 
 best occupy his time, and improve opportunities. His multiplied cares and 
 calls, during a large part of his ministerial service, forbade much consecutive 
 study; but he often trimmed the midnight lamp. I never met with a more 
 industrious man — his whole life was filled with duty, — to use a favourite 
 expression of his own; and he seemed to discharge duty in the spirit of obe- 
 dience to his Master. Even after he had resigned the duties of the ministry, 
 he carefully maintained his active habits both of mind and body. He read, he 
 wrote, he kept up a correspondence with friends, old and new, especially with 
 former parishioners, and his pupils, who were dispersed from Maine to 
 Louisiana. "Wherever he thought he might be of service in promoting the 
 spiritual welfare of others, he never failed to discharge his duty by a letter, 
 if he could not by a personal visit. If nothing else happened to demand his 
 attention at the time, he would re-write one of his old sermons. He often 
 remarked that he felt the importance of mental occupation to preserve the 
 health and vigour of his faculties. He could not bear the thought of rusting 
 out. By such contrivances to make occupation for himself, and by his habits 
 of systematic labour, he so filled up his days that he frequently used to say, 
 with a smile at the oddity of the conceit, that it might strike us that he was 
 straitened for time. I may add that he was always careful and systematic in 
 his bodily exercise. His love of gardening never forsook him. In his eighty- 
 fifth summer he took the principal charge of the garden. In the winter he 
 used the axe and saw. He also walked as much as his infirmities would 
 permit. 
 
 To return to his ministry, I have no idea that he was ever charged with 
 neglect or inefficiency in respect to the claims of his people on him for counsel 
 and sympathy. At any hour, whether of night or day, the sick or the dying 
 found him ready to answer their summons. The bereaved and afflicted were 
 sure of his tender interest. The family always knew of cases of sorrow, or of 
 sickness, or peculiar trial, by the particular mention of them in morning or 
 evening prayer. No storm swept over us, but petitions were offered for the 
 seamen or the traveller exposed to its fury. The poor were never forgotten, 
 nor the unfortunate, in his prayers. Whatever also promised to promote, in 
 his judgment, the cause of true religion, found in him a ready and zealous 
 co-operator. While at Chelmsford, at the request of the Association, he pub- 
 lished for distribution, in their several parishes, a tract or address on family 
 worship. He prepared a Catechism for children of which several editions were 
 printed. Similar efforts were made by him during his ministry at Wiscasset. 
 
 It may seem incompatible with fidelity to his calling as a minister of the 
 Gospel, that he should have devoted himself so much to the instruction of 
 youth. It should be borne in mind that, in the absence of the facilities for 
 instruction which now abound, the clergy so generally had private pupils that 
 it was almost regarded as a part of their office. He undoubtedly had a 
 decided taste for the pursuit, and the claims of his family rendered such efforts 
 necessary, for a time at least; but I am persuaded that, before he consented 
 to enter on this field of labour, he conscientiously considered the question of 
 duty, in full view of his obligations as a minister of Christ. It was at the 
 earnest solicitation of friends in Wiscasset that he consented, at an early 
 period, to take charge of a private school, which soon became an incorporated 
 Academy. Near the close of his life, he thus refers to what some might" 
 regard a diversion from his proper sphere of labour: — <• I reflect with satisfac- 
 
HEZEKIAH PACKARD. 287 
 
 ■Hon on the course I pursued in reference to the rising generation. For I 
 exerted a greater moral influence, and was much more useful than I could 
 have been in the ministry alone, especially considering the state of morals at 
 that period. I endeavoured to ascertain and follow the leadings of Prov- 
 idence." Under date of September, 1806, he thus wrote to a brother: — " My 
 school is at present my hobby; but I am obliged to ride and tie that, I may 
 show the respect and attachment I feel to my professional concerns and duties. 
 I expect to render some valuable service both to parents and children. I 
 spare no pains, and am up early and late to meet the objects of both 
 characters in which I act." Again, a few months later: — << My mind is greatty 
 occupied, and I hope usefully. It is no matter, you know, how early 
 in Spring some grain is sown; it is well to avail ourselves of every thing like 
 predisposition in the soil; nor can we too soon eradicate what is noxious. I 
 have several times written two sermons in a week since I opened my school, 
 and hope they were pretty well received. My conscience bears me witness, I 
 think, that I mean to render my people all the service in my power. The 
 risen generation are so wild in their movements that I mean to do my pari in 
 giving the one now rising a better direction." Other extracts might be given 
 to show with what earnestness he entered on the exhausting labours of those 
 years. From the result it would seem that his course was dictated by a far- 
 seeing judgment. "We may claim for the Seminary, whilst he was at the 
 head, so far at least as regards the moral influences which pervaded it, 
 the highest rank. The sin of falsehood, of profane and obscure language, of 
 Sabbath breaking, of disobedience to parents and disregard of rightful 
 authority, was set forth with constant and earnest power. The most 
 interesting, especially the didactic, portions of the Divine word were rendered 
 familiar in the Monday morning lessons. No one could have been a single 
 week in that school, without learning, in what he made a general exercise, the 
 several duties just mentioned; and many now live who can distinctly trace to 
 that school impressions indelibly made concerning such sins and duties. It 
 was composed of pupils of both sexes, who have since been the ornaments of 
 society in that and other communities; and I am warranted in ascribing to his 
 efforts, in that direction, an influence still felt in that town and vicinity. I 
 will add that he was abundant in efforts to direct the attention of teachers and 
 guardians of literary institutions to the moral and religious training of youth. 
 The introduction of Mason on Self-knowledge and of Porteus's Evidences, as 
 text-books in Exeter Academy, N. H., was, I am led to think, in consequence 
 of the urgency with which this subject was pressed by him upon the attention 
 of Dr. Abbot, the late distinguished head of that Institution. 
 
 No one conversant with him could doubt his respect and love for the minis- 
 try. "I carry with me," he writes under date of December, 1809, "a 
 refreshing consciousness of good desires and faithful exertions to fill the 
 various concentric circles of ministerial duty, and make valuable improve- 
 ments in this part of our Lord's vineyard. It has been my ardent wish that 
 I might be an instrument of spiritual good to the people of my charge, and 
 within the circle of my influence. I have had, at times, for a year or two 
 past, a comforting persuasion that I should see religion more regarded in this 
 place, our assembly enlarged, and our table of Communion better rilled." 
 The year 1828 was signalized in the religious history of TTiscasset by a remark- 
 able degree of interest concerning eternal things pervading the town. With 
 my father it was a season of deep and tender concern; and he exerted his 
 best energies to promote what he believed to be a work of the Lord. Ilia 
 heart was made glad to see numbers who had sat for years under his ministry, 
 many of his former pupils and two of his own children, devoting themselves, 
 as he hoped, to the Saviour and rejoicing in hope through Him. That revival 
 
288 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 may be numbered among the most interesting and important which have 
 blessed the churches of this State. But his attachment to the ministry was 
 never more manifest than after he had ceased to labour. He never threw off 
 the habits or the feelings of the Christian minister. He watched over him- 
 self as ever, that he might do nothing whereby the ministry should be 
 blamed, and cherished a jealousy for the honour and purity of the sacred 
 office. Not unfrequently, on the Sabbath, he selected some of his own dis- 
 courses and read them, and meditated, as if to revive, for his own refreshment, 
 the feelings with which, in former years, he used to engage in the official 
 duties of the Lord's day. That his earnestness in the cause of the Redeemer 
 was not merely a matter of office, was beautifully and impressively manifested 
 in his daily walk and conversation. His last twelve years were a rest from 
 active labour, but not from ever wakeful zeal and diligence in his Master's 
 work. To the close of his pilgrimage, his Christian conversation, his corres- 
 pondence, his private memoranda, showed a vigorous and healthful advance 
 in the Divine life. " I often think," he writes, << that I have deeper feeling 
 and more spiritual ardour in praying for those who were once under my 
 charge, than when I was connected with them as Pastor and teacher." 
 Wherever he resided, — at Brunswick, or Saco, or Salem, he was a discreet, 
 affectionate and earnest co-operator with his Pastor, and a most exemplary 
 parishioner. It was the testimony borne in the Funeral Discourse by the 
 Kev. Dr. Adams, of Brunswick, who had been his minister nearly nine years, 
 that the appearance and example of the aged hearer at his side, in the pulpit, 
 (where in his last years he usually sat, in consequence of impaired hearing,) 
 listening with eager and absorbed attention, and a look of deep solemnity and 
 feeling, to the preached word, seemed to him a more effective discourse than 
 any preaching; and that often, as he sat in his study, preparing for his Sab- 
 bath labours, and saw this venerable servant of God passing the window, and 
 leaning on his staff, on his way down the village street, to make his custom- 
 ary calls, he felt new encouragement, because he was sure that his own 
 influence would be strengthened by that walk and those calls. The querulous 
 spirit, not unfrequently exhibited by a retired minister, was as far below his 
 character as a man, as it is removed from the temper of the Gospel. 
 
 A writer in the Boston Journal of October 25, 1849, under the caption, — 
 "Travels in New England," a professional gentleman of accomplishment, 
 once a parishioner of my father and a member of his church, but who, for 
 several years, has resided in Boston, in describing the beautiful scenery of 
 Wiscasset, thus refers to my father. It may be taken as an independent testi- 
 mony concerning him. << The farm to which I alluded was, for more than 
 twenty years, the homestead of the Rev. H. Packard, while settled over the 
 parish in Wiscasset. He was a man greatly beloved, a Cambridge scholar, 
 and' a soldier of the Revolution. Like very many of the army of Washington, 
 his figure was tall and majestic. A clergyman of dignified bearing, sincere, 
 of much friendliness of heart, he was a true specimen of the Old School. He 
 was not an eloquent preacher, but he led his flock to the green pastures and 
 still waters of life. He was satisfied to feed them with plain but wholesome 
 food, and never sought to gather grapes from the thorns of persecution, nor 
 figs from the thistles of controversy. In humble, fervent, reverential prayer, 
 this venerable Pastor was rarely excelled. His life shone in the light of his 
 own precepts. With a small salary and personal labour on his farm, he 
 united to his clerical duties the education of a few young men, placed under 
 his care by friends abroad, and he fitted several for College. He had a remark- 
 able talent for governing and directing the young mind to virtue, honour and 
 gentlemanly manners, while he dwelt much on a sound moral tone and on 
 the fear of God, the beginning of wisdom. No one who knew Dr. P. can ever 
 
HEZEKIAH PACKARD. 289 
 
 forget the kind attentions, warm grasp of the hand, and peculiar dry and 
 mellow humour, which distinguished this soldier of the cross; who, at the 
 bed of the dying, and in the chamber of the mourner, felt deeply as he com- 
 forted them and sympathized with them in their trials. When I think of his 
 cheerful look at his hospitable fireside, I am reminded of a beautiful resem- 
 blance to the Vicar of Wakefield. Though not a man of profound erudition, 
 nor a star of the first magnitude in the space which he filled on earth, yet he 
 will long be remembered as the good Dr. Packard, — a reputation which may 
 perhaps shine in its own glory among the blessed, when the brilliant meteors 
 of literature, and the mere Boanerges of the pulpit, will have their reward in 
 this life only." 
 
 The preceding statements convey an impression of the sincerity and earnest- 
 ness of my father's Christian life and character; but I should do injustice to 
 his memory without more direct and specific evidence on this particular. He 
 was the son of pious parents, a child of the Covenant, and was religiously 
 trained, but he referred the beginning of the Divine life in his soul to a season 
 of remarkable religious interest in his native town in 1780. After several 
 weeks of strong conviction of sin, he had, as he thought, and as he writes in 
 his autobiography, some encouraging evidence that Christ was revealed in 
 him as the hope of glory, and he found peace in believing. He ever professed 
 to rely on Christ's atoning sacrifice, and his continual intercessions for accept- 
 ance with God. The tone of his piety may be seen from his own statement 
 concerning himself at a late period of his life. << I take satisfaction in reading 
 the Scriptures, and I gather instruction and encouragement from those por- 
 tions of them which were formerly less interesting, because I have more 
 leisure to examine and apply them. I have an encouraging and grateful 
 relish for those parts of the Sacred Volume which exhibit and inculcate the 
 doctrines of faith and repentance, of renewing grace and a holy life, of Christ's 
 mediatorial character and atoning sacrifice, the grace and mercy manifested 
 to our sinful and sinning world, and the spiritual nature and happy subjects 
 of Christ's Kingdom; the reasonableness, the efficacy and the importance of 
 prayer, and the agency of the Holy Spirit in enlightening, renewing and sanc- 
 tifying men, so that they may become partakers of the Divine nature, and 
 heirs of the grace of life." Some of these truths, he was accustomed to say, 
 were recalled in these his last days with more clearness, and power, and com- 
 fort to his mind. As years advanced, his views of the spiritual wants of his 
 fellow-men seemed to strengthen and deepen. Whenever and wherever he 
 mingled, as he was wont to do, almost to the end, in social circles, he made 
 it plain that he had » strong and abiding sense of eternal things. I doubt 
 whether, for years, he made a social visit or a call, without saying some- 
 thing for his Master and His cause. A large portion of every day was spent 
 in the devout reading of the Scriptures, of books of practical religion, and in 
 prayer. Doddridge, Watts, Wilberforce and Jay were favourite authors. We 
 cannot forget his voice of prayer, as it was heard from his apartment at stated 
 hours. He could say with the Psalmist,— << In the night his song shall be 
 with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life." I might, by quotations 
 from his private papers, exhibit further proofs of his profound humility and 
 deep devotion of spirit. Were I, however, to convey in a single expression my 
 view of the character of his piety, I should say that it was marked by a clear 
 and strong sense of God. The earliest impressions made upon our minds, by 
 his precepts and example, were of a Divine Providence ordering all events 
 and of human accountability. 
 
 His declining years were spent evidently in diligent preparation for his 
 great change. I often heard him declare, during the last twelve years of his 
 life, that he thought he could say with Dr. Watts that, when he lay down at 
 
 Vol. VIII. 19 
 
290 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 night, he was not anxious whether he awoke in this world or the next. Some 
 years before his death, in one of his attacks of disease at my house, when, in 
 the midst of a paroxysm of severest agony, which he supposed he could not 
 survive, he, with difficulty, and in detached utterances, exclaimed, — " I cannot 
 say 'faithful servant,' but 'waiting and watching for the coming of the 
 Lord.' " When his change at last came, he was found ready and waiting. His 
 sun went down without a cloud. In answer to his frequent and well-remem- 
 bered petitions, he had " the guiding rod and supporting staff promised to the 
 believer in passing the vale of death." One of his last declarations was 
 made to one who was his Pastor at the time, who, having repeated texts 
 relating to Christ as our Saviour, asked him if they expressed his feelings: 
 " Yes," was the reply, — " in looking back on my past life, I find a great deal 
 to humble me; but I have committed myself to an all-sufficient Saviour. I 
 have nothing but Christ to trust to, and I hope to be clothed with my 
 Saviour's righteousness." His Pastor spoke of death. The reply was, — "I 
 do not think much of the King of Terrors; my thoughts are on the King of 
 Glory." When unable to articulate distinctly, he was observed to whisper — 
 the words "Rock," "Redeemer," "Shepherd " were heard uttered in his 
 prayer. Whither could we have more desired the thoughts of a dying parent 
 to ascend than to Him who is the Rock of Ages, the Redeemer of his people, 
 and the Shepherd of Israel ? 
 
 It is due to candour that I should add a word in respect to my father's views 
 of Christian doctrine. What I have already said, especially the extracts 
 which I have given from his autobiography, show that he was in full sympa- 
 thy with nearly every feature of what is commonly called the Evangelical 
 system. I do him no injustice, however, in admitting that he did halt at the 
 commonly received doctrine of the Trinity — -that is, he was loth to employ 
 the expressions, " co-equal, co-eternal," &c; or to speak of the Son as really 
 and truly God; and yet he was accustomed to speak of Him as an All-suffi- 
 cient, Almighty Saviour, as Immanuel, God with us. I have always sup- 
 posed that his views on this subject were somewhat modified by his early 
 associations, and perhaps his theological training. He was on very intimate 
 terms with Dr. Cummings, of Billerica, and my impression is that he sympa- 
 thized with him rather more than with any others of that neighbourhood, my 
 father being settled in Chelmsford, near by. This, however, was before the 
 lines were drawn between the conflicting parties. 
 
 With sincere regard and respect, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 A. S. PACKARD. 
 
 PROM THE REV. ABIEL ABBOT, D. D. 
 
 Peterborough, September 21, 1854. 
 
 My dear Friend : My recollections of Dr. Hezekiah Packard are not very num- 
 erous or various, though they are very distinct. I knew him first when we 
 were students together at Harvard College. He was not only a good scholar, 
 as was evidenced by his being subsequently chosen to a Tutorship, but, hav- 
 ing an uncommonly vigorous and athletic frame, he was not a little distin- 
 guished as a wrestler. After we parted at College, our intercouse was never 
 very frequent; though it became more so in his latter years, and it was kept 
 up by an occasional exchange of letters. 
 
 I cannot say that there was any thing remarkably striking in Dr. Packard's 
 personal appearance; though his person was large, and his general aspect 
 dignified and commanding. His manners were agreeable, and in his social 
 intercourse he often manifested not a little good humour. He was kindly and 
 eharitable in his dispositions. His intellect was vigorous and clear, but I think 
 
SIMEON DOGGETT. 291 
 
 he had not much of the imaginative. I am not sure that I ever heard him 
 preach, but I know that he had a highly respectable standing in his denomi- 
 nation; and his published sermons, I think, fully justify it. The fact of his 
 having preached the Dudleian Lecture at Harvard College showed that he 
 was held in high estimation, as a Preacher. 
 
 Dr. Packard was generally ranked with the Unitarians, after the lines were 
 drawn between them and the Orthodox; but his Unitarianism was probably 
 of a type approaching very near to Orthodoxy; and I doubt not that his 
 preaching would have been generally acceptable in orthodox pulpits. I remem- 
 ber once conversing with him about Dr. Chauncy's work on Universal Salva- 
 tion, and he said, with some degree of earnestness, that he once possessed it, 
 but had thrown it into the fire. In his last years, I think his mind became 
 increasingly occupied with religious subjects and his spirit increasingly devo- 
 tional. Truly yours, 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT. 
 
 SIMEON DOGGETT. 
 
 1793—1852. 
 FROM THE REV. CHARLES H. BRIGHAM. 
 
 Taunton, November 5, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir : In complying with your request for a sketch of the Rev. 
 Simeon Doggett, it is proper that I should state that I did not become 
 acquainted with him until he was seventy-nine years old, and, therefore, am 
 not a competent judge, from personal observation, of what he was at the 
 meridian of life. This deficiency has been made up, however, in a good 
 degree, by the reminiscences of a large circle of friends, and especially by 
 the communications of his own children, whose memories are filled with 
 beautiful illustrations of his character. Under these circumstances, I 
 think you may feel assured of the authenticity of what I am about to 
 communicate. 
 
 Simeon Doggett was born in Middleborough, Mass., on the 6th of 
 March, 1765. His early associations were those of an orderly, industrious 
 and pious Puritan home. His mother, a native of North Carolina, had 
 brought with her from her Southern birth place the prepossessions of an 
 Episcopal training, and took care early to indoctrinate the mind of her son 
 with the tenets of the Church of England : and, though he ultimately found 
 his home in a different communion, he retained a lingering attachment to 
 the English ritual till the close of life. 
 
 At an early age he showed a decided taste for study, and his father, 
 though not a rich man, was able and willing to give him the advantages of 
 a collegiate education. Accordingly, he was entered at Brown University 
 in 1785, and graduated in 1788, at the age of twenty-three. His collegiate 
 course was marked throughout by great earnestness in study, and the most 
 scrupulous propriety of demeanour. While he was an excellent general 
 scholar, his taste was rather for the classics than the sciences, and constant 
 study made the verses and aphorisms of ancient authors very familiar to 
 
292 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 him. Both before and during his college course, he was engaged for some 
 time in teaching, and acquired a strong relish for that kind of employment. 
 
 While he was in College, he was led to examine for himself the various 
 systems of Church government, and the result of his inquiry was that the 
 Congregational, and not the Episcopal, order seemed to him the original 
 form of Church polity. An inquiry concerning Scriptural doctrine satisfied 
 him that the Christian view of nature and of grace was that of Arminius, 
 and not that of Calvin. Mr. Barker,* the Pastor of the Church in Mid- 
 dleborough, was willing, in view of his serious and exemplary deportment, 
 to admit him to Communion ; but one of his Deacons, who was a very 
 earnest Calvinist, could not feel satisfied that Mr. D. possessed the 
 requisite qualifications, and his objections prevailed against the candidate. 
 He, however, was soon after received into the Church in Providence, under 
 the pastoral care of the Rev. Dr. Hitchcock ; and, before leaving College, 
 though the surrounding influences seemed adverse to such a result, he had 
 become a decided Unitarian. 
 
 On graduating, Mr. Doggett returned to his father's house, and com- 
 menced at once the study of Theology, with only such aid as Doddridge, 
 and perhaps one or two other kindred writers, supplied to him. A 
 concurrence of circumstances continued to interrupt his studies for the first 
 year or two ; and, at length, through the good offices of President 
 Manning, he obtained a situation, for some six months, in a planter's 
 family in Virginia, where, with a task comparatively light, he could recruit 
 his exhausted health, and observe the working of Southern institutions. 
 In 1790 he went to live with the celebrated Dr. Samuel West, of Dart- 
 mouth, and prosecuted vigorously the study of his profession, under 
 the direction of that eccentric and able divine. 
 
 * Joseph Barker was a native of Branford, Conn. ; was graduated at Yale College in 1771 ; 
 studied Theology under the Rev. Dr. Bellamy; preached for some time at Blanford, Mass., 
 and, by the recommendation of the Rev. Br. Emmons, was called to the pastorate of the First 
 Church in Middleborough, as successor to the Rev. Sylvanus Conant, on the 9th of August, 
 1781, and was ordained on the 5th of December following. From 1805 to 1808, he was a 
 member of Congress. His ministry at Middleborough continued till his death, which 
 occurred on the 5th of July, 1815. He received the degree of Master of Arts not only from 
 his Alma Mnter, but from Harvard and Brown Universities. He published a Century Sermon, 
 preached one hundred years after the Organization of the Church at Middleborough, 1795; 
 and a Sermon occasioned by the Funeral of Deacon Benjamin Thomas, 1800. A volume of 
 his Sermons has also been published. He was a man of superior talents, a diligent student, 
 and an able preacher of the Hopkinsian school. He was twice married. His first wife was 
 Eunice Stebbins of Longmeadow, — a lady of great cheerfulness, economy and piety, and much 
 esteemed by all the people. She died October 6, 1809, aged forty-nine, the mother of seven 
 children. Two of her sons graduated at Brown University. One of them ( William) died in 
 1809, while a student of the Andover Theological Seminary. The other (James) studied 
 Theology at Cambridge, was licensed as a Unitarian Preacher, and, after preaching a year or 
 two, embraced the New Church (Swedenborgian) doctrine, left the ministry, and devoted 
 himself to teaching. His second wife, who survived him, was Anna Huntington, the widow 
 of a clergyman in Connecticut. 
 
 The Rev. Sylvanus Conant, above referred to, was a descendant of the celebrated Roger 
 Conant, who was with the Plymouth Pilgrims in 1623, and removed to Salem. He was born 
 in 172'), and graduated at Harvard College in 1740. He was a son of Lot Conant, a son 
 of Nathaniel, who went from Beverly, and settled in Bridgewater before 1690. He began his 
 ministry in Bridgewater, September 9, 1744, was called to the pastorate October 1, of the 
 same year, and was ordained March 28, 1745. Here he continued till his death, which 
 occurred, from small pox, December 8, 1777. He was the husband of three wives, succes- 
 sively, who were much esteemed, but left no children. He published a Sermon occasioned 
 by the Death of his "Wife, 1759; a Sermon delivered at Taunton, at the Execution of Bristol, 
 a negro boy, 1763 ; a Sermon preached on occasion of the news of the Death of Daniel Oliver, 
 son of Hon. Peter Oliver, 1768 ; and a Sermon preached at Plymouth, in commemoration of 
 the Landing of the Pilgrims, 1776. Mr. Conant was a friend of Whitefield, and sympathized 
 in the revival movement of that day. 
 
SIMEON DOGGETT. 293 
 
 In the summer of 1791 he was chosen to be a Tutor in Brown 
 University, and held the office, with great credit to himself and high 
 advantage to the institution, for five years. During this period, he was 
 still prosecuting his theological studies, and in May, 1793, received license 
 from the Rhode Island Convention of Congregational ministers to preach 
 the Gospel. He commenced at once to supply vacant pulpits, as oppor- 
 tunity offered, and his services met with very general acceptance. 
 
 For several years, the prominent citizens of Bristol County had proposed 
 to establish an Academy in some central town in the Old Colony, which 
 should afford the means of instruction in the higher branches to children 
 of both sexes, and be a thorough school for college preparation. In July, 
 1796, Bristol Academy in Taunton was opened, in pursuance of this idea, 
 with Mr. Doggett as its first Preceptor. Here he found a position every 
 way favourable to his comfort and usefulness. The high expectations 
 which the Trustees had formed of his talents and character, from the 
 recommendation of President Maxcy, were fully justified by Mr. D.'s 
 Inaugural Address, which was justly regarded as the pioneer of liberal 
 education in the Old Colony. 
 
 For seventeen years Mr. Doggett served in this office with marked 
 ability and fidelity, and with no ordinary success. Though his school was 
 large, and his labours in connection with it were arduous, yet, by dint of 
 untiring industry, he was enabled, in addition to his duties as a teacher, to 
 preach quite regularly on the Sabbath. When the Rev. Dr. Reed of 
 Bridgewater went to Congress, he was called to fill the vacant place. An 
 active, energetic, industrious life was his life in Taunton. The aged 
 inhabitants in this place have now no more beautiful recollections than 
 those of the school days when he was their teacher. And some, who have 
 risen high in public fame, have professed that their success had been owing 
 mainly to the wise counsels and noble aspirations which he gave them. 
 
 In April, 1813, Mr. Doggett, much to the regret of the Trustees of the 
 Institution, tendered his resignation as Principal, giving as a reason that 
 he preferred to retire before there should be any perceptible decay of his 
 faculties. He now determined to enter on the duties of a parish minister, 
 and realize the pleasure and honour which he had so long coveted. In 
 the town of Mendon, at that time the second town in size in Worcester 
 County, a number of his pupils were established in professional business, 
 and he was solicited by them to come there and preach. Uuitarianism 
 was a new thing in that region ; and Dr. Bancroft, of Worcester, had long 
 stood alone among Calviuistic brethren. The Society at Mendon was 
 large, influential, and supposed to be orthodox. Yet they called him 
 unanimously, and did not rescind their call, when he, at a special meeting, 
 stated his belief, and required, if he accepted the post, that the Church 
 creed and covenant, which he neither believed nor understood, should be 
 altered. The neighbouring clergy, notwithstanding his avowed dissent 
 from their religious views, readily assisted at his Ordination, and continued 
 to exchange with him for several years. 
 
 Mr. Doggett remained in the ministry at Mendon until January, 1831 ; 
 and, though not a controversial preacher, and not disposed to place himself 
 in an antagonistic attitude towards his brethren who differed from him, he 
 
294 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 was yet perfectly frank in the avowal of his opinions, and undoubtedly did 
 much, in a quiet way, to modify the prevailing creed of that neighbour- 
 hood. But, as years increased upon him, he became sensible that a change 
 of his field of labour would be better for him, and better for the people of 
 his charge. A small Unitarian Society had been organized, about this time, 
 in the town of Eaynham, Bristol County, where some of his former friends 
 and pupils resided ; and he was cordially invited to become their Pastor. 
 Many circumstances concurred to render this a peculiarly attractive place 
 to him, and hence he accepted the call, and commenced his ministry there 
 in April, 1831. 
 
 Here, as in his preceding fields of labour, he was eminently conscien- 
 tious, and diligent withal, so far as his increasing infirmities would permit.' 
 He was greatly beloved and revered, not only by the people of his 
 immediate charge, but by the whole surrounding community. In the 
 Seminary where he had taught so long, he was now an honoured Overseer. 
 His pecuniary means were adequate to his desires, and placed him quite 
 above the fear of want. He had a choice library, gathered and inherited, 
 of the old standard theological works, and he had leisure to read them. 
 The success of his children could bring joy to his heart ; and, though they 
 were widely separated from his home, their frequent letters kept the family 
 union unbroken. 
 
 An interesting episode in his life, at this period, was his visit to the 
 South, in the winter of 1834—35, where two of his sons were established. 
 In the cities of Charleston, St. Augustine, Jacksonville, and Savannah, he 
 was treated with marked attention, and invited, in the last mentioned city, 
 to preach at the Dedication of the new Unitarian Church ; — which service 
 he very acceptably performed. His journal of this visit is very full and 
 interesting. He had an opportunity here to become acquainted with some 
 novel forms of worship ; to attend at the Catholic, the Jewish and the 
 Quaker services, and to hear preachers of various denominations, — a 
 privilege which an active minister can rarely enjoy. The institution of 
 Slavery also came before his eye in its light and its dark sides. He could 
 testify to the comfort and cheerfulness of the Christian planter's large 
 family, and he could shudder at the sight of the slave auction. He was 
 surprised, too, on this visit, by the ravages of intemperance, which had 
 never seemed so fearful in the Northern towns. His criticisms upon these 
 subjects, and his observations upon Southern character, are discriminating 
 and often ingenious. 
 
 On the first day of his seventy-third year, Mr. Doggett commenced a 
 daily journal, which he continued for many years, until his hand had 
 become too tremulous to write with ease. In this journal there are many 
 things remarkable. It is rather a record of thoughts than of facts. It is 
 a book of spiritual meditations, a continued self-examination and prayer. 
 Two wishes are nearest the writer's heart, and are repeated on almost 
 every page — that no day may pass without some useful work, and that 
 every day may carry him forward in the Divine life. The Confessions 
 of Augustine do not show a more earnest self-renunciation, a more living 
 and quick longing after holiness, than the journal of this old New England 
 minister. This pervading religious tone dignifies the necessary monotony 
 
SIMEON DOGGETT. 
 
 •295 
 
 of the details of the weeks and the months. Every smallest event is made 
 the theme of some spiritual reflection. The presents, which friends send 
 into the house, come as special gifts from God. The common changes in 
 nature, in social life, storm and sunshine, health and sickness, old age and 
 frequent death, all seem to him providential. Indeed, he seems always to 
 write with a sense of God above, around, with and within him. 
 
 The ministry of Mr. Doggett at Raynham continued until the year 1845 ; 
 when, having reached the full term of fourscore years, he felt that it was 
 time for him to give up the work so dear to his heart. But he did not 
 lose his love for the people of his charge when he ceased to be their public 
 teacher. He was always on the alert to minister to their comfort and 
 edification by every means iu his power. The closing years of his life 
 were serene and beautiful, disturbed by no calamity and clouded by no 
 mental decay. On Sunday, he was a wakeful and earnest listener to the 
 word of younger friend^, and, when his own church was closed, he worshipped 
 cheerfully with brethren of a different faith, and found no fault with a 
 manly utterance of views which he might not approve. 
 
 On his eighty-seventh birth day his young friends in the village gathered 
 at his house to offer congratulations and tokens of their love, to sing songs, 
 and to receive anew the patriarchal blessing. It was a glad occasion. 
 But there was a prophecy in the old man's soul, which told him that the 
 occasion would not come again. Very serious thoughts were mingled with 
 the playful words by which he refreshed their joy. In one week after this 
 the fatal sickness fell upon him. He was well aware of its probable issue. 
 But he showed no alarm, made no change in the order of his house, sat at 
 meals with his family and asked the usual blessing, kept up his service of 
 family worship and waited quietly for the end. He died, in the utmost 
 tranquillity, on the 19th of March, 1852. On his study table was found, 
 evidently left by design, the Cyropedia of Xenophon, with the leaf turned 
 in at a passage which a Christian father might well adopt as advice to his 
 children, and a manuscript sermon from the text, — "Brethren, the time 
 is short." The Funeral services were held in the church adjoining his 
 dwelling, an appropriate Address was delivered, and a long train of those 
 who had been his pupils and friends followed his body to its last resting 
 place. 
 
 Mr. Doggett was married on the 29th of October, 1797, to Nancy, 
 daughter of the Rev. Dr. Perez Fobes, of Raynham. They had eight 
 children. The eldest son, John, was graduated at Brown University in 
 1821 ; was one of the earliest settlers of Florida, after its purchase by 
 the United States, and was, for many years previous to his death, Presiding 
 Judge of the County Court of Duval County. He died, January 8, 1841. 
 His second son, Samuel Wales, was Principal of a flourishing Academy 
 .in Charleston, S. C. Another son, Perez Fobes, took a high rank as a 
 physician and surgeon. And still another, Theophilus Pipon, was gradu- 
 ated at Brown University in 1829, and was settled in the ministry in 
 Bridgewater, Mass. The youngest child, William Paley, had scarcely 
 commenced the practice of Law iu his own village, when he was removed 
 by death. Mrs. Doggett died December 27th, 1854, aged eighty-five. 
 
 The following is a list of Mr. Doggett's printed productions : — A Dis- 
 
296 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 course on " The "Way of Eternal Life," preached at Norton and Provi- 
 dence, 1796. A Discourse on Education, at the Opening of Bristol 
 Academy, 1796. An Oration at Taunton, on the Fourth of July, 1799. 
 A Discourse in Mendon, at the Funeral of Richard George, 1827. A Ser- 
 mon in Mendon, on the Death of Capt. Joseph Prince, 1828. A Sermon 
 in Bridgewater, at the Ordination of his Son, T. P. Doggett, 1833. 
 Two Discourses on Slavery, 1835. National Union: A Fast Day Ser- 
 mon, 1839. A Sermon on "Transcendentalism," preached on Fast Day, 
 1843. 
 
 Mr. Doggett lived to he the only survivor of his college class, the oldest 
 graduate of Brown University with a single exception, the oldest teacher 
 of any puhlic institution in Massachusetts, and the oldest minister in the 
 Unitarian denomination. He was one of the earliest to avow the Unitarian 
 belief, and in this belief he never wavered. He was an Arian of the 
 Old School, firm in faith of the Pre-existence of Christ, but maintaining 
 strongly his inferiority to the Father. From each of the five points of 
 Calvinism he dissented strongly and unequivocally. He had no love for the 
 Universalist theory, but he was inclined, like his friend Dr. Bancroft, to 
 believe in the final annihilation of the wicked. 
 
 Mr. Doggett, though* not a brilliant Preacher, was an interesting one — 
 he was earnest in manner, clear and close in argument, concise in expres- 
 sion, and eminently serious. He was not tried, like many Preachers, to 
 find matter for religious instruction, nor did he catch at every chance of 
 the day, every political movement, every novel occurrence, for a striking 
 theme of discourse. His Bible gave him his texts and themes, and its 
 store. was exhaustless. At the same time, he was a close observer of the 
 course of public aifairs, and when the emergency seemed to demand it, he 
 was prompt to speak. One of the last sermons which he wrote, in his 
 eightieth year, was a vigorous protest against the Annexation of Texas, in 
 its bearing upon national morals and prosperity, and its sure influence in 
 stirring up War and extending Slavery. He looked upon the system of 
 Slavery as a great evil, for which the scheme of African Colonization 
 seemed to him to offer the only remedy. 
 
 The work which he loved best was to interpret to his friends the Holy 
 Scriptures. He prized the Bible in its integrity, the whole of God's law. 
 The glory of the New Covenant did not wholly eclipse for him the bright- 
 ness of the Old. He delighted to trace the "relation of Moses to Christ, 
 and to find the Messianic hope of Hebrew history and prophecy fulfilled in 
 the man of Nazareth. Nothing gave him more pain than the tendency 
 which he seemed to discover, to slight the earliest revelation from God, 
 and criticise its sacred character ; unless, indeed, it were that spirit that 
 denied the Christian miracles, and threw contempt upon the claims of 
 Jesus and his Apostles. 
 
 He was candid and deliberate in the formation of his judgments, hearing 
 all sides and dismissing prejudice. But he rarely changed his opinions. 
 If he distinctly stated any sentiment or any order, whether in the house, the 
 school-room, or the church, it was known to be irrevocable. His word was 
 law to his children and pupils. His parishioners were sure that nothing 
 crude or doubtful would find through him an open utterance. He pre* 
 
SIMEON DOGGETT. 297 
 
 ferred, indeed, to speak common-places, rather than strange and fantastic 
 ideas. For Transcendentalism of any kind, whether as a system of 
 philosophy, a style of preaching, or a tone of conversation, he had no 
 relish. He never attempted the German language, and was content with 
 such helps as the sound English Commentaries could furnish, or the well 
 tried Latin Fathers. 
 
 He was a man of remarkable modesty. He had no greater desire than 
 to be useful without being conspicuous. He chose to dwell aside from the 
 bustle and temptation of society, where he might be forced to take a promi- 
 nent place. He was not vain of his acquirements, never boasted of what 
 he had done in any way. He had no sense of his own righteousness, even 
 in contrast with the meanness and worldliness of those around him. I was 
 once led, at the Funeral of an old miser, who had been Mr. Doggett's 
 associate in early life, to insist somewhat strongly on the waste of talents 
 and the wreck of hopes, exhibited in such a life. All that the old man 
 answered, was,' — "I am afraid to speak of him who is gone. Perhaps I 
 shall have no better account to give. I can only remember now that my 
 friend was once a good man and a Christian minister. I trust that God 
 will be merciful to him. My time will soon come and I shall need all 
 God's mercy." He was a most orderly and methftdical man. He had a 
 time for every thing, and a place for every thing. He was happiest when 
 his regular routine of life could go on unbroken, and did not tire of the 
 monotony of his occupation. He gave a fair measure of time to domestic 
 and manual labour, and often overtaxed a feeble frame to sustain this sys- 
 tem of joining physical to intellectual toil. He was temperate, even to 
 abstemiousness, and frugal from principle, — finding no pleasure in the 
 gratification of physical appetites, yet with no harsh ascetic theory. He 
 had a space in every day for worship, for work, for study, for social con- 
 verse, and for meditation, and he rarely omitted any part of his daily pur- 
 pose. And it was a surprise to his friends when, at any time, this regular 
 order chanced to be varied. 
 
 He was a fine example of charity. He could not join in the scandals 
 with which ordinary intercourse abounds. In conversation he indulged 
 in no strong expressions in regard to the opinions or characters of 
 others. There was a kindness, a gentleness, a dignified reserve in his man- 
 ner, that more effectually rebuked the utterance of severe and uncharita- 
 ble words. t 
 
 My recollection of Mr. Doggett's personal appearance is scarcely dis- 
 tinct enough to justify me in attempting a description of it. When I first 
 knew him, he had almost reached his fourscore years, and had all the 
 marks of an old man, with thin white hair, stooping slightly, and seeming 
 to be below the middle height. I should think, however, that in youth 
 he must have been as much as five feet eight or nine inches. His com- 
 plexion, I think, was dark, his eyes were deeply set, and the general ex- 
 pression of his countenance indicated thoughtfulness and decision. His 
 face very strikingly resembled the portrait of Granville Sharp. His tone 
 of voice was* gentle, but clear and firm. His pace in walking was quick, 
 and his frame, though slender, was well knit and agile. He was somewhat 
 careless about his dress at ordinary times, but nice on special occasions. 
 
298 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 He wore small clothes as long as he could find any body to mate them to 
 suit him, and then finally yielded to the tide of custom and went into 
 pants. With sincere regard, 
 
 Your friend and brother, 
 
 CHARLES H. BRIGHAM. 
 
 JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, LL. D * 
 
 1794 — 1805. 
 
 Joseph Priestley was born at Fieldhead, about six miles South-west 
 of Leeds, Yorkshire, England, on the 13th of March, (0. S.,) 1733. His 
 father was Jonas Priestley, who followed the trade of a clothier. His 
 mother, whose maiden name was Swift, was the daughter of a farmer who 
 resided in the neighbourhood of Wakefield. In his early childhood he was 
 committed to the care of his maternal grandfather, with whom he continued, 
 with little interruption, till his mother's death, which occurred when he 
 was about seven years old. His father was a Calvinistic Dissenter; and 
 one of the most vivid recollections he had of his mother was, that, during 
 the little time he spent at home, she taught him the Assembly's Catechism. 
 
 After his mother's death, he was taken home, and sent to school in the 
 neighbourhood. But, as his father was encumbered with a large family, 
 his father's sister, who had no children, took him to live with her, and 
 adopted him as her own. She continued to treat him as her child till her 
 death, in 1764. 
 
 By this benevolent and excellent lady, who was in easy worldly circum- 
 stances, he was sent to several schools in the neighbourhood, and especially 
 to a Free School, under a clergyman by the name of Hague, where he 
 studied Latin and Greek. At the same time, he was devoting such inter- 
 vals of leisure as he could command, to the study of the Hebrew, under 
 the Dissenting minister of the place, Mr. Kirkby, who subsequently be- 
 came his instructor also in other branches. With these advantages, he 
 had acquired a pretty good knowledge of the learned languages, at the age 
 of sixteen. 
 
 From the time that he had discovered any fondness for books, his aunt 
 entertained hopes of his being a minister of the Gospel ; and he readily 
 entered into her views. But, as his health began to fail, and it was appre- 
 hended that he was of a. consumptive habit, his thoughts were directed to 
 commercial life ; and, with a view to this, he learned the French, Italian, 
 and German languages, without a teacher. A plan had already been 
 formed for placing him in the counting-house of an uncle, who resided in 
 Lisbon, and every thing was nearly ready for undertaking the voyage, 
 when it was found that his health had so far improved that it would be 
 safe for him to return to his studies. He was, accordingly, sent to Da- 
 vcntry, to study under the Rev. Caleb Ashworth. 
 
 * Memoir by Himself and his Son. — Chalmers' Biog. Diet. 
 
JOSEPH PRIESTLEY. 
 
 299 
 
 He spent three years at Daventry ; and, though he had been educated in 
 the Calvinistic faith, he left the Academy a thorough convert to Arianism. 
 Here he first became acquainted with Dr. Hartley's " Observations on 
 Man," by reading which he became fully established in the belief of the 
 doctrine of Necessity. He entered the ministry at a great disadvantage, 
 in consequence of a natural impediment in his speech ; and this, notwith- 
 standing various efforts to effect a cure, always continued, in a degree at 
 least, till the close of his life. On leaving the Academy, in 1755, he set- 
 tled at Needham Market, in Suffolk, over a very small congregation ; but 
 the fact that he was an Arian, when it came to be discovered, was offen- 
 sive to some of his people, while the impediment in his speech, and his 
 general lack of popular talents, rendered him scarcely an acceptable 
 preacher to the community at large. Here he pursued his theological 
 studies, and quickly became satisfied " that the doctrine of Atonement, 
 even in its most qualified sense, had no countenance either from Scripture 
 or Reason ;" and, in prosecuting his inquiries on this subject, he also 
 reached the conclusion that the Apostle Paul's "reasoning was, in many 
 places, far from being conclusive." On the resignation of the Rev. Mr. 
 Wadsworth at Sheffield, an invitation was sent to him, through the influence 
 of some of his friends, to preach there as a candidate : he accepted the 
 invitation, but the people did not accept Mm ; though no objections were 
 made to him on account of his religious opinions. He was, however, 
 shortly after this, invited to preach to a congregation at Nantwich, in 
 Cheshire; and he, accordingly, removed thither in 1758, after having 
 been at Needham just three years. 
 
 At Nantwich he passed three years much to his satisfaction. Besides 
 performing the duties of a minister, he engaged in teaching a school ; and 
 to the more common branches of instruction he added experiments in 
 Natural Philosophy, to which he had already become attached. 
 
 In 1761 he was invited to become a Tutor in Languages in the Academy 
 at Warrington ; and here he first began to acquire reputation as a writer 
 in various branches of literature. On a visit to London, he became 
 acquainted with Dr. Franklin, and several other persons eminent in the 
 scientific world, who encouraged him to execute a plan he had already pro- 
 jected, of writing a History of Electricity ; which, accordingly, appeared 
 in 1767. This work passed through several editions. He had, the year 
 before, been elected a Fellow of the E-oyal Society ; and, about the same 
 time, the University of Edinburgh conferred on him the degree of Doctor 
 of Laws. Though it was no part of his duty to preach, while at Warring- 
 ton, he chose to continue the practice, and not only preached, as there 
 was occasion or opportunity, but actually received Ordination, that he 
 might the better keep up the character of a Dissenting minister. 
 
 In September, 1767, he left Warrington, and took charge of the congre- 
 gation of Mill-hill Chapel, at Leeds. Here he resumed his application to 
 speculative Theology, which had occupied him at Needham, and which 
 had been interrupted by the business of teaching at Nantwich and War- 
 rington. Soon after his settlement here, he says — in his memoir — "I 
 became what is called a Socinian ; and, after giving the closest attention 
 to the subject, I have seen more and more reason to be satisfied with that 
 
300 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 opinion to this day, and likewise to be more impressed with the idea of its 
 importance." Here he announced the change in his theological views, in 
 several different publications ; and also wrote a pamphlet or two designed 
 to vindicate the principles and conduct of Dissenters. 
 
 It was during his residence at Leeds that his attention was directed 
 more particularly to the properties of fixed air. He had begun his experi- 
 ments on this subject in the year 1768 ; but his first publication appeared 
 in 1772. Here also he composed his " History and Present State of Dis- 
 coveries relating to Vision, Light and Colours." 
 
 In 1772 a proposal was made to him to accompany Captain Cook in his 
 second voyage round the world. He consented to go, and an arrangement 
 was actually made for the supply of his pulpit during his absence. But 
 some of the parties concerned in the direction of the business objected to 
 him on account of his religious principles, and another person (Dr. Forster) 
 ultimately received the appointment. 
 
 After a residence at Leeds of six years, he accepted an invitation from 
 the Earl of Shelburne, afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne, to reside with 
 him, nominally as a librarian, but really as a companion. Here he was 
 occupied chiefly in scientific pursuits ; and, in 1773, read a paper to the 
 Royal Society on the different kinds of air, which obtained the Copley 
 medal. 
 
 In 1774 Dr. Priestley accompanied the noble Earl on a tour to the Con- 
 tinent. They visited Flanders, Holland and Germany ; and, after spend- 
 ing a month in Paris, returned to England. This tour he highly valued 
 as a means of both gratification and improvement. 
 
 Dr. Priestley's publications, during the next three or four years, brought 
 out his peculiar views, — especially the doctrine of Philosophical Necessity, 
 and of the Materiality of the Human Soul, with great distinctness, and 
 brought upon him a degree of obloquy, which evidently diminished the 
 kind regard of his Lordship towards him. The result was that the con- 
 nection between them was dissolved, the Doctor retaining an annuity of 
 a hundred and fifty pounds, according to the original agreement. 
 
 After a residence of seven years with Lord Shelburne, Dr. Priestley 
 removed to Birmingham, where he became the minister of a Unitarian 
 congregation. Here he wrote his " History of the Corruptions of Chris- 
 tianity," and his " History of the Early Opinions concerning Jesus Christ." 
 He published also " Familiar Letters to the Inhabitants of Birmingham," 
 designed to support the Claims of the Dissenters for a repeal of the Test 
 Acts. These Letters gave great offence, and brought upon him the odium 
 of the clergy in the country at large.- On the occasion of the celebration 
 at Birmingham of the Anniversary of the French Revolution, on the 14th 
 of July, 1791, at which Dr. Priestley was not present, a mob first burned 
 the meeting-house in which he preached, and afterwards his dwelling 
 house, destroying his library, philosophical apparatus, and, so far as they 
 could, every thing that belonged to him. The outrage was countenanced 
 by many persons in authority, and the legal compensation which he ob- 
 tained fell considerably short of his actual losses. 
 
 Dr. Priestley, in view of the excited state of the public feeling against 
 him, thought it only a measure of safety to leave Birmingham ; and, accord- 
 
JOSEPH PKIESTLEY. 301 
 
 ingly, he repaired to London, where he found friends ready to welcome 
 him. In a short time, he was invited to succeed Dr. Price as minister at 
 the Gravel Pit Meeting-house at Hackney. In this situation he found 
 himself, in many respects, easy and comfortable ; and he not only had 
 every advantage for pursuing his philosophical and theological inquiries, 
 but was particularly happy in an intimacy with Mr. Lindsey and Mr. 
 Belsham, two of the most eminent Unitarian ministers of the day. He 
 was, however, still, to a great extent, an object of public odium; and the 
 feeling of opposition was not allayed, but intensified, by several of his 
 publications at this period; and he finally made up his mind to cross the 
 ocean, and spend the rest of his days in America. At the time of his 
 leaving England, in April, 1794, several respectable English emigrants 
 had formed a project for a large settlement for the friends of liberty in 
 general, near the head of the Susquehanna, in Pennsylvania. Presuming 
 that this scheme was to go into effect, after landing at New York, on the 
 4th of June, he proceeded immediately to Philadelphia, and thence to 
 Northumberland, the town nearest to the proposed settlement, intending 
 to reside there until some progress should be made in it. The settlement 
 was given up ; but, as he liked the place, he determined to take up his 
 residence there, and there he actually remained during the residue of his 
 life. 
 
 Though Dr. Priestley was highly esteemed by the people of Northum- 
 berland, not only for his greal intelligence but for his many private 
 virtues, yet his theological views differed so essentially from theirs that it 
 was impossible for him to exercise his ministry there, except on a very 
 small scale. About a dozen Englishmen, who resided there at the time, 
 were accustomed to meet, on Sunday, at his house, or the house of his son ; 
 and, as the number increased, he made use of a school-room in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and so many ultimately attended that he administered to them 
 the Lord's Supper. 
 
 In the spring of 1796. he spent three months at Philadelphia, and 
 delivered there a series of Discourses on the Evidences of Divine Revela- 
 tion, which were attended by crowded audiences, including most of the 
 members of Congress, and of the executive officers of the Government. 
 These discourses were subsequently published. The next spring he 
 repeated his visit to Philadelphia, and delivered a second series of 
 Discourses, which, however, were received with much less favour than the 
 former ones. 
 
 In the spring of 1801 he again spent some time in Philadelphia, and, 
 during his stay there, had a violent attack of fever, from the effects of 
 which he never afterwards fully recovered. He subsequently suffered, 
 also, at different times, from the fever and ague ; but, notwithstanding 
 these inroads upon his constitution, his spirits continued good, and he 
 pursued his various studies with nearly his accustomed vigour. 
 
 The illness, of which he died, was. in its earlier stages, an obstinate 
 indigestion, together with a difficulty of swallowing his food. From 
 November, 1803, to the middle of January, 1804, it was evident that he 
 was constantly growing worse ; but, at the latter date, there was some 
 slight alleviation of his symptoms, which encouraged his friends to hope 
 
302 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 that he might possibly recover. Soon after this, however, other more 
 alarming symptoms ensued, and he became himself fully impressed with 
 the idea that his time on earth was short ; and he desired to live a little 
 longer chiefly that he might complete the printing of some of his works, 
 which was then upon his hands. About this time, also, he ceased perform- 
 ing Divine service ; saying that he had never found himself incapable of it 
 before. After this, he continued constantly engaged in revising his works 
 for the press, and in reading Newcome's Translation of the New Testament, 
 arid other books in which he was interested. His son, who constantly 
 ministered to him in his last days, has left the following record concerning 
 him: — 
 
 " On Sunday, he was much weaker, and only sat up in an armed chair, while his hed 
 was made. He desired me to read to him the eleventh chapter of John. I was going 
 on to read to the end of the chapter, but he stopped me at the forty -fifth verse. He 
 dwelt, for some time, on the advantage he had derived from reading the Scriptures 
 daily, and advised me to do the same ; saying that it would prove to me, as it had done to 
 him, a source of the purest pleasure. He desired me to read him a pamphlet which 
 waf at his bed's head — Simpson on the duration of future punishment. ' It will be a 
 source of satisfaction to you to read that pamphlet,' said he, giving it to me; ' it con- 
 tains my sentiments, and a belief in them will be a support to you in the most trying 
 circumstances, as it has been to me. We shall all meet finally: we only require 
 different degrees of discipline, suited to our different tempers, to prepare us for final 
 
 happiness-' Upon Mr. coming into the room, he said, — ' You see, Sir, I am 
 
 still living.' Mr. observed he would always live. ' Yes,' said he, ' I believe I 
 
 shall, and we shall all meet again in another and better world.' He said this with 
 great animation, laying hold on Mr. 's hand with both his. 
 
 " Before prayers, he desired me to reach him three publications, about which he 
 would give me some directions the next morning. His weakness would not permit 
 him to do it at that time. 
 
 "At prayers, he had all the children brought to his bedside as before. After 
 prayers, they wished him a good night, and were leaving the room. He desired them 
 to stay, and spoke to them each separately. He exhorted them all to continue to love 
 each other. 'And you, little thing,' speaking to Eliza, 'remember the hymn you 
 learned: — ' Birds in their little nests agree, &c.' ' I am going to sleep as well as you; 
 for death is only a good, long, sound sleep in the grave, and we shall meet again.' He 
 congratulated us on the dispositions of our children ; said it was a satisfaction to see 
 them likely to turn out well; and continued, for some time, to express his confidence 
 in a happy immortality, and in a future state, which would afford us ample field for 
 the exertion of our faculties." 
 
 The above is a specimen of Dr. Priestley's death bed exercises. He 
 continued, after this, gradually to fail until the next day, (February 6, 
 1805,) when he passed away so gently that the moment of his departure 
 could not be exactly ascertained. His Funeral Sermon was preached by 
 the Rev. William Christie, and was published. 
 
 Dr. Priestley was married, in 1763, to Mary, daughter of Isaac Wilkin- 
 son, an iron master near Wrexham, in Wales, with whose family he became 
 acquainted in consequence of having the youngest son at his school at 
 Nantwich. They had four children, — three sons and one daughter. The 
 daughter was married to a Mr. Finch, an iron master in England, and died 
 there about the year 1803. His three sons migrated to this country. 
 The eldest came in 1793, and lived at Northumberland, chiefly occupied 
 with agricultural pursuits, until 1812, when he, with all his family, except 
 one son, returned to England, where he died in 1833. The second son 
 settled in Louisiana, as a planter, and died several years ago. The third 
 died in Northumberland, in 1795, at the age of eighteen. Mrs. Priestley 
 died in Northumberland in 1797. 
 
JOSEPH PRIESTLEY. 303 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Priestley's publications ; — * 
 The Rudiments of English Grammar, with Observations on Style, 1762. 
 A Course of Lectures on the Theory of Language and Universal Grammar, 
 1762. The Duty of not Living to Ourselves, 1764. A Description of a 
 Chart of Biography ; with a Catalogue of all the Names inserted in it, and 
 the Dates annexed to them, 1765. An Essay on a Course of Liberal 
 Education in Civil and Active Life; with Plans of Lectures on 1. The 
 Study of History and General Policy; 2. The History of England; to 
 which are added Remarks on a Code of Education proposed by Dr. Brown 
 in a late Treatise, entitled Thoughts on Civil Liberty, &c, 1765. The 
 History and Present State of Electricity; with Original Experiments, 
 1767. An Address to Protestant Dissenters on the subject of the Lord's 
 Supper, 1768. Essays on the Principles of Governments, and on the 
 Nature of Political, Civil and Religious Liberty, 1768. A Serious Ad- 
 dress to Masters of Families ; with Forms of Family Prayer, 1769. Con- 
 siderations on Differences of Opinion among Christians ; with a Letter to 
 the Rev. Mr. Venn in answer to his Full and Free Examination of the 
 Address to Protestant Dissenters, 1769. A View of the Principles of 
 the Protestant Dissenters, with respect to the Civil and Ecclesiastical 
 Constitution of England, 1769. Considerations on Church Authority, 
 occasioned by Dr. Balguy's Sermon on that subject, 1769. A few 
 Pvemarks on some Paragraphs in the Fourth volume of Dr. Blackstone's 
 Commentaries on the Laws of England, relating to Dissenters, 1769. An 
 Introduction to the Study of Electricity, 1769. Additions to the History 
 and Present State of Electricity, 1770. A Description of a new Chart of 
 History, 1770. A Familiar Introduction to the Theory and Practice of Per- 
 spective, 1770. The Rudiments of English Grammar, 1772. Directions 
 for impregnating Water with Fixed Air, in order to communicate to it the 
 peculiar Spirit and Virtues of Pyrmount Water, and other Mineral Waters 
 of a similar nature, 1772. History and Present State of Discoveries 
 relating to Vision, Light and Colours; 2 vols., 4to., 1772. Institutes of 
 Natural and Revealed Religion, vol. I., On the Elements of Natural 
 Religion, 1772. Experiments and Observations on different kinds of Air, 
 3 vols., 8vo., 1774-77. Auserlesene Kleine Werke dreyer beriihmter 
 Englischer Chymisten, Priestley, Henry and Black, 1774. Hartley's 
 Theory of the Human Blind, on the Principles of Association of Ideas ; 
 with Essays relating to the subject of it, 1775. An Examination of Dr. 
 Reid's Inquiry into the Human Mind, on the Principles of Common Sense; 
 Dr. Beattie's Essay on Truth ; and Dr. Oswald's Appeal to Common 
 Sense in behalf of Religion, 1775. Philosophical Empiricism, containing 
 
 Remarks on a Charge of Plagiarism respecting Dr. H s, interspersed 
 
 with various Observations relating to different kinds of Air, 1775. A 
 Free Address to Protestant Dissenters on the subject of Church Discipline, 
 1776. Harmony of the Evangelists in Greek; to which are prefixed 
 Critical Dissertations in English, 1777. A Course of Lectures on Oratory 
 and Criticism, 1777. Disquisitions relating to Matter and Spirit, 1777. 
 The Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity, being an Appendix to the 
 
 * I cannot be sure that this list embraces all Dr. Priestley's works, but, after a comparison 
 of various catalogues, I am unable to make it more complete. 
 
304 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Disquisitions, &c., 1777. The Sadducee : A Poem, 1778. Miscellaneous 
 Observations relating to Education, more especially as it relates to the 
 Conduct of the Mind, 1778. A Letter to Mr. John Palmer in defence of 
 the Illustrations of Philosophical Necessity, 1779. A Second Letter on 
 the same, 1780. Experiments and Observations relating to Natural 
 Philosophy; with a continuation of the Observations on Air, 3 vols., 8vo., 
 1779-1786. Two Letters to Dr. Newcombe, Bishop of Waterford, on the 
 Duration of our Saviour's Ministry, 1780. A Letter to Joseph Bryant, 
 Esq., in defence of Philosophical Necessity, 1780. Additional Letters to 
 a Philosophical Unbeliever in answer to Mr. W. Hammon, 1782. The 
 Proper Constitution of a Christian Church : A Sermon, 1782. The 
 History of the Corruptions of Christianity, 2 vols., 8vo., 1782. Letters 
 to Dr. Horsley, 1783. An Appeal to the Pious and Candid Professors of 
 Christianity on various subjects, — Republished in Philadelphia in 1784. 
 Forms of Prayer for the use of the Unitarian Societies, 1784. An History 
 of Early Opinions concerning Jesus Christ, compiled from Original 
 Writers, proving that the Christian Church was at first Unitarian, 4 vols., 
 8vo., 1786. Letters to the Jews, inviting them to an Amicable Discus- 
 sion of the Evidences of Christianity, 1786. Letters to Dr. Home, Dean 
 of Canterbury, &c, 1787. Discourses on Various Subjects, including 
 several on Particular Occasions, 1787. Defences of Unitarianism for the 
 year 1787, containing Letters to the Bev. Dr. Geddes, to the Bev. Dr. 
 Price, &c, &c, 1787. A Letter to the Bt. Hon. William Pitt on the 
 subject of Toleration and Church Establishments, 1787. A Discourse in 
 favour of the Abolition of Slavery, 1788. Lectures on History and 
 General Policy, to which is prefixed an Essay on a Course of Liberal 
 Education for Civil and Active Life, 1788. A Sermon preached before 
 the Congregations of the Old and New Meetings at Birmingham, 1789. 
 Beflections on Death : A Sermon, 1790. A View of Bevealed Beligion, 
 1790. Familiar Letters addressed to the Inhabitants of Birmingham, in 
 Befutation of several Charges against the Dissenters by the Bev. Mr. Madan, 
 in two parts, 1790. A General History of the Christian Church to the Fall 
 of the Western Empire, 2 vols.. 8vo., 1790. Letters to the Bev. Edward 
 Burn, of St. Mary's Chapel, Birmingham, in Answer to his Letter on the 
 Infallibility of the Apostolic Testimony concerning the Person of Christ, 
 1790. Defences of Unitarianism for the years 1788 and 1789, 1790. Let- 
 ters to the Bt. Hon. Edmund Burke, occasioned by his Beflections on the 
 Bevolution in France, 1791. The Evidence of the Besurrection of Christ 
 Jesus considered, 1791. Original Letters by the Bev. John Wesley and his 
 Friends, illustrative of his Early History, with other Curious Papers, com- 
 municated by the late Bev. S. Badeock ; to which is prefixed an Address to 
 the Methodists, 1791. The Proper Objects of Education in the present 
 state of the World, represented in a Discourse, 1791. A Discourse on the 
 Death of the Bev. Dr. Price, 1791. A Particular Attention to the Instruc- 
 tion of the Young, recommended in a Discourse, 1791. An Appeal to the 
 Public on the subject of the Riot at Birmingham, 1791. The Duty of For- 
 giveness of Injuries : A Discourse, 1791. Letters to the Members of the 
 New Jerusalem Church, formed by Baron Swedenborg, 1791. Letters to a 
 Young Man, occasioned by Mr. Wakefield's Essay on Public Worship ; to 
 
JOSEPH PRIESTLEY. 305 
 
 which is added a Reply to Mr. Evanson's Objections to the Observance of 
 the Lord's Day, 1792. Part II of the same, 1793. Discourses on the 
 Evidence of Revealed Religion, 1794. The Use of Christianity, especially 
 in Difficult Times: A Sermon, 1794. Heads of Lectures on a Course of 
 Experimental Philosophy, particularly including Chemistry, delivered at 
 the New College, Hackney, 1794. Syllabus of a Course of Lectures on 
 the Study of History, 1794. The Present State of Europe compared with 
 Ancient Prophecy ; with a Preface, containing Reasons for his leaving 
 England, 1794. Experiments and Observations relating to the Analysis 
 of Atmospheric Air; also, further Experiments relating to the Generation 
 of Air from Water ; to which are added Considerations on the Doctrine of 
 Phlogiston, 1796. Observations on the Increase of Infidelity, 1796. A 
 Comparison of the Institutes of Moses with those of the Hindoos and other 
 Ancient Nations, 1800. The Doctrine of Phlogiston established, and that 
 of the Decomposition of Water refuted, 1800. A Letter to an Antipsedo- 
 baptist, 1802. Socrates and Jesus compared, 1803. Index to the Bible, in 
 which the various Subjects which occur in the Scriptures are alphabetically 
 arranged, 1805. Memoirs of his Life to the year 1795, written by himself, 
 with a Continuation to the time of his Decease, by his Son, and Observa- 
 tions on his Writings by T. Cooper and W. Christie, 1806. In addition 
 to the above, he published a large number of articles in the Transactions 
 of different Philosophical Societies, Nicholson's Journal, &c. 
 
 FROM HUGH BELLAS, ESQ. 
 
 Sunbury, Pa., September 22, 1849. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir: In compliance with your request, communicated through 
 our mutual friend, the Eev. Dr. Furness, I cheerfully communicate some of 
 my reminiscences, illustrative of the character of Dr. Priestley, embracing the 
 period from June, 1796, until near the time of his death. 
 
 In 1796, at the age of sixteen, I was employed as an apprentice in a store 
 which the Doctor frequented. From the close of that year until the autumn 
 of 1803, I was in the practice, with but little interruption, of borrowing from 
 him miscellaneous books. As he perceived my ardour in acquiring knowledge,, 
 and was always on the alert to aid the improvement of young men, he uni- 
 formly treated me with great kindness and indulgence when I called upon 
 him. During the period of about seven years, I saw and conversed with him, 
 I suppose, upon an average, once every two weeks. Indeed, I often visited him 
 when I had no occasion to avail myself of his proffered kindness in lending 
 me books; for there was an atmosphere of benevolence around him, which 
 attracted me insensibly, and rendered it a privilege for me to be in his society.. 
 
 The personal appearance of Dr. Priestley, when I first saw him,, was that 
 of an aged gentleman, of about five feet nine inches, dressed in black, with a 
 white stock, walking perfectly erect. He usually moved rapidly and acted 
 earnestly, when he was engaged in business, whether in his house or in the 
 street; but he often took a deliberate evening's walk for recreation, in the 
 summer. He had been an active pedestrian in England; for he told me he had 
 walked there, in a morning, twenty miles before breakfast. He rode very 
 well on horseback, though not frequently; and I was informed that he had 
 been accustomed to that kind of exercise, with the fine horses of the Earl of 
 
 Shelburne, while he lived with him. His person was rather spare than full 
 
 he was broad across the loins, and his lower limbs appeared slender, through 
 his American pants, which he always wore. He usually spoke somewhat 
 
 Vol. VIII. 20 
 
306 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 rapidly in a tenor. tone of voice, without marked impediment, unless under 
 excitement, and then his utterance was but slightly affected. 
 
 Near and in front of Dr. Priestley, as he sat in his library, hung the 
 portraits of his friends, Dr. Price and the Rev. Theophilus Linsey. Some of 
 his metaphysical arguments against the speculations of the former, were 
 written in the same apartment; and, in perfect friendship, they submitted to 
 each other their opposing manuscripts before they sent them off to the press. 
 It was of Mr. Linsey that, on leaving England, Dr. Priestley wrote that, 
 "without his society, the world would seem to him, for some time at least, 
 almost a blank." 
 
 Towards his own family his affections were deep, tender and ardent; while 
 yet he was remarkable for his firmness and fortitude. These latter traits 
 were strikingly exhibited on occasion of the terrific riots at Birmingham, as 
 well as at a later period, in connection with the death of his wife. I was 
 present at her Funeral, and was a witness to his flowing tears, while he de- 
 livered a deeply pathetic Address at her grave. A few years after this, his 
 estimable son, Joseph, with whom he resided, visited England; and, remain- 
 ing much longer than had been anticipated, his father, on his return, said to 
 him, — " I began to feel the truth of the wise man's saying, that ' hope de- 
 ferred maketh the heart sick.' " 
 
 To any expression, offensive to either morality or piety, he was singularly 
 sensitive: indeed, he was reluctant to be introduced to any one whose mode 
 of life might have addicted him to the irreverent use of sacred things. I 
 once introduced to him inconsiderately a young seaman, a son of a respectable 
 Unitarian clergyman, who was not sufficiently guarded in this respect, and 
 he afterwards expressed regret and dissatisfaction that I had done it. I have 
 heard it said that he never pronounced the name of the Supreme Being with- 
 out a solemn pause; but this statement certainly is incorrect. Many years 
 before he left England, he published an interesting Discourse on << Habitual 
 Devotion;" and the frame of mind which he there inculcates, he seemed to 
 me to possess himself in an uncommon degree. In the autumn of 1801, 
 Northumberland suffered severely from fevers; and Dr. Priestley, among 
 others, was prostrated for some weeks. During his illness, I happened to 
 reside in the same house with him, and heard his expressions of resignation 
 to the Divine will, which were uttered in such a tone a,nd so frequently as to 
 be exceedingly affecting. 
 
 To all with whom he had intercourse, and especially to young persons, 
 whatever might be their standing in society, he showed much kindness. I 
 went into an old shoemaker's shop one morning, about two years after the 
 Doctor came to this country, and saw upon his bench a small volume, which 
 I took up, and found to be the first volume of Dr. Priestley's " Institutes of 
 Natural and Revealed Religion." The old man said the Doctor had given it 
 to him as a present; and both he and his wife spoke warmly of his friendly 
 and benevolent disposition, and reprobated, in no very moderate terms, those 
 who condemned him, without, as they supposed, knowing his opinions. 
 
 The domestics of the family held the Doctor in the utmost reverence. He 
 sometimes reproved them for their misconduct; but not unfrequently, soon 
 afterwards, especially if the reproof had been severe and been rightly received, 
 made them some little present, with a view the more effectually to soothe 
 their feelings. During several months he delivered Lectures to a class of 
 about twelve young men, chiefly mechanics, some of them apprentices, using 
 " Astro-theology " as a text book. On these occasions, his vivid and path- 
 etic descriptions of the dreadful consequences of sensual indulgence upon both 
 body and mind left an impression that could not easily be effaced. 
 
 In the evening he sometimes played at chess; and, having usually beaten 
 
JOSEPH PRIESTLEY. 
 
 307 
 
 his opponent, when about to quit, he would suffer himself to be beaten, say- 
 ing, — '« Well, now you have beaten me, let us quit." 
 
 Dr. Priestley's uncommon urbanity and gracefulness of manners, as well as 
 his intellectual qualities, made bim welcome to the most refined and culti- 
 vated society. He was always cheerful and courteous, his fair and expressive 
 countenance beaming with benevolent excitement, and his full blue eyes fre- 
 quently moistened from sensibility. One morning a venerable and strict Pres- 
 byterian, old Mr. Montgomery, described in my hearing the various persons 
 who had been with him the preceding evening, at a little social party, in some 
 friend's house; and, after mentioning others, said, — " And we had the old 
 Doctor among us, with all the benevolence-of * primitive Apostle." 
 
 The Doctor conducted family worship in the morning in his library, reading 
 the prayers in a standing posture. About the year 1799 he commenced 
 preaching in a school-house, an humble log building near his dwelling, to an 
 audience of fifteen, twenty, or more. There he administered the Lord's Sup- 
 per; handing the bread and wine to his little grandchildren, as well as to 
 any other who chose to partake. A person to whom he gave the elements 
 carried them round to those present who were seated. On at least some of 
 these occasions he was much moved — the tears ran down his cheeks, and 
 his voice struggled for utterance. During public worship, he wore the black 
 silk gown; and, after reading the hymn, joined in singing, keeping before him 
 the notes of the tune in his music book. 
 
 His compositions for the press were first written in short hand. I have 
 heard it said that the printers had much difficulty in reading his manuscript; 
 but all his writing, which I remember to have seen, was in a free, legible 
 hand. When I called one evening, he asked if I had time then to write a 
 little for him; and, as I readily assented, he handed me his manuscript, in 
 "long hand," to continue it. He then proceeded to read to me from his 
 short hand, having given me minute directions in respect to punctuation, 
 the use of capitals, &c. ; and when it became too dark for me to proceed 
 farther, he looked over my pages, and very kindly expressed his satisfaction 
 with what I had done. He used a copying machine for letters, &c, and said 
 that in England he could obtain a good impression, after twenty-four hours 
 or more; but here the greater dryness of the air obliged him to take a copy 
 within a much shorter time. 
 
 I think it was in the summer of 1800, I called to return to him books 
 which I had borrowed, and to receive others; and he told me that he had 
 just received a very curious present from Europe, which he would show me. 
 He took me into his laboratory, and pointed to a small pile of plates of silver 
 and zinc, in alternate layers, with pieces of wet flannel interposed; each 
 plate about the size and form of a common playing card. A piece of small 
 iron wire was inserted near the top of the pile, another piece near the bot- 
 tom, and the other ends of the wire were brought together, and there under- 
 went decomposition. « Now this is called the pile of Volta," said the Doctor; 
 "and here is the electric fluid destroying the ends of the wires. Put the 
 joint of your thumb to these points, and you will feel a slight electric shock. 
 You need not be afraid; for it will not be severe." I did as he directed, and 
 received several successive light shocks, upon repeated applications to the 
 points. 
 
 He was disposed to place full confidence in those with whom he transacted 
 business. As he never took the trouble of learning to count our currency, he 
 handed his money, when he made his. little purchases in the stores, saying, 
 
 "There, Mr. C , you will give me the proper change; for I do not 
 
 know it." 
 In the year 1802, a young gentleman from New England, making an exton- 
 
308 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 sive tour for health or pleasure, called upon the Doctor, and I soon after 
 inquired who his visitor was. He told me, but I cannot recollect, his name; 
 and added, with no little confidence and animation, — " A great change is 
 about to take place in New England in favour of Unitarianism. I shall not 
 live to see it, but you may." He published a remarkable prediction, when 
 leaving England, respecting the political convulsions and wars which now 
 agitate Europe, — the mighty conflicts between the friends of arbitrary gov- 
 ernment and the advocates of freedom. He had adopted Dr. Hartley's opinion 
 expressed in his " Observations on Man," — that terrible visitations awaited 
 all the kingdoms of the world, — England not excepted, — that had lent their 
 influence in aid of the Church of Rome. That work of Dr. Hartley he held 
 to be the most valuable of all books, except the Bible. 
 
 It seems rather strange that neither in what Dr. Priestley has published, nor 
 in what has been written concerning him, is there any thing to indicate his 
 intense relish for a good anecdote, or the great number of amusing and 
 instructive anecdotes which he had treasured up. Perhaps, however, this is 
 to be explained by the fact that the state of mind in which this pleasantry 
 originated, was called up only by familiar and agreeable conversation. But I 
 now recollect that his " Letters to Volney," composed in a single day, par- 
 took not a little of a humourous character; for he deemed Volney's shallow 
 Deism unworthy of grave argument. With one of the Doctor's anecdotes, 
 which he used to relate with characteristic good humour, I shall conclude 
 these reminiscences. It was as follows: — A devout Portuguese farmer, greatly 
 perplexed about his cows staying away at night, at length resolved to give 
 them in charge of his tutelary saint, when he turned them out every morn- 
 ing to their rambles at large. To his great joy, he found that his trust and 
 invocation were now rewarded ,by the punctual return home of the cows 
 every evening. The good man, however, being about to leave home for some 
 days, directed his daughter's attention to the change which they had observed 
 in the cows' behaviour, and explained to her the cause of it. » Now remem- 
 ber," says he, '< every morning while I am away, when you turn them out, 
 to give them particularly into the care of Saint J." The girl promised to do 
 as he ordered; but, by the following morning, when sending off the cows, 
 she had totally forgotten the name of the saint — anxious, however, to do 
 the best she could, she committed them to the charge of all the saints. Night 
 after night came, but neither night nor saints brought home the cows. "At 
 length her father returned, and soon and eagerly inquired of her whether the 
 cows had always come home. " Oh, indeed, father, they have never been 
 home since." " And did you," said he, << give them into the charge of Saint 
 J. ?" " "Why, I'll tell you, father, exactly how it was — I could not, for my 
 life, recall the name of that saint of yours; and so I gave them into the care 
 of all the saints ; and, as he was among them, I thought it would all be 
 right." " Oh yes," said he, " that is always the way; what is every body's 
 business is nobody's business." 
 
 With the utmost respect and regard, 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, Your friend and servant, 
 
 HUGH BELLAS. 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 309 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT, D. D * 
 
 1794—1828. 
 
 Abiel Abbot was born in Andover, Mass., August 17, 1770. He was 
 a son of John and Abigail Abbot, and, with the exception of one who died 
 in infancy, the youngest of their children. His parents were persons of 
 excellent character, and his mother especially is said to have been remark- 
 able alike for good sense and piety. In his early childhood, he exhibited 
 not only great conscientiousness but uncommon devoutness ; being accus- 
 tomed frequently to retire, for purposes of devotion, to a solitary grove 
 near his father's house. His brother-in-law, the Rev. Dr. Abbot, of 
 Peterborough, N. H., in referring to his earliest years, writes thus : — " He 
 had an excellent mother. The children were allowed at home to take the 
 pears which they found on the ground under the tree. Passing in the 
 road, he saw a couple of pears, just over the fence, under a tree belonging 
 to one of the neighbours. He picked up the pears, and hastened home, 
 and gladly offered one of them to his mother. ' Where did you get the 
 
 pears?' ' Oh, under Mr. 's pear tree.' 'I shall not touch one of 
 
 them ; they are stolen ; they are not your pears.' He was in an agony. 
 'What shall I do ? ' ' You must put them where you found them.' He 
 immediately carried them back, and placed them under the tree. He had 
 always a tender conscience, and greatly venerated his pious mother." 
 
 At the age of fourteen, he had a severe illness, — a nervous fever, 
 occasioned by thrusting his arm into a cold spring, in a hot summer's day. 
 This illness, which had well nigh proved fatal, left him with the vigour of 
 his constitution considerably impaired ; and this was one of the circum- 
 stances which led his parents to gratify his wish for a liberal education. 
 Accordingly, he became a member of Phillips Academy at Andover, 
 where he at once took a high stand among his fellow students, and main- 
 tained it during the whole period of his preparation for College. Here, as 
 in after life, he was particularly distinguished for a popular and graceful 
 style of elocution. 
 
 He entered Harvard College in 1788 and graduated in 1792. He was 
 uniformly diligent in his studies and exemplary in his deportment, but 
 was distinguished rather for his classical than scientific attainments. In 
 1800 he was appointed to deliver the Annual Address before the Phi 
 Beta Kappa Society at Harvard College, on which occasion he very 
 creditably acquitted himself in " A Review of the Eighteenth Century." 
 The Address was published in a periodical of that day, entitled the 
 " Literary Miscellany." 
 
 Soon after he graduated, he became an assistant teacher at Phillips 
 Academy, Exeter, where he continued till August, 1793. He subsequently 
 occupied the place of Principal of Phillips Academy, Andover, and, at the 
 same time, pursued his theological studies under the direction of the Rev. 
 Jonathan French. Having received license to preach, he commenced 
 
 * Memoir by Kev. S. Everett. — Ma. from E,ev. Dr. Abbot, of Peterborough, N. H. 
 
310 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 preaching to the congregation in Haverhill, in November, 1794, and, in 
 February following, received a unanimous invitation to become their 
 Pastor. He signified his acceptance of the call in April, and was solemnly 
 set apart to the work of the ministry in that place on the 3d of June, his 
 Pastor and Theological Teacher, the Rev. Mr. French, preaching the 
 Ordination Sermon. His labours were welcomed with enthusiastic applause 
 by all classes to whom he ministered. In reference to his Ordination, he 
 writes in his private journal, — " I would never forget thy goodness, thou 
 whose tender mercies are over all the works of thy hands. Perpetuate the 
 memory of these things in my mind, and keep alive my sensibility aud 
 gratitude." After his first administration of the Communion, he writes 
 thus : — " I would never forget the feelings of that first interview with the 
 church, nor the tears we shed, of which the faulty spectators themselves 
 did not withhold their share. I would remember these feelings aud tears, 
 as a constant excitement to prayer that many may be added to our Com- 
 munion of such as shall be saved." On commencing a New Year, he 
 writes thus : — " Let it be my solicitous endeavour this year to redeem 
 time. Let it be my plan to undertake more and to perform quicker. To 
 carry this design into execution several things will be necessary. To take 
 better care of the fragments of time. A portion of the day may often be 
 saved in the morning and evening, which is apt to slide away in other 
 avocations. Less time should be spent in ruminating or listless study. 
 Let the moments of application be improved at all times, as they are when 
 special necessity compels to the utmost ardour and activity. Read with 
 attention ; converse with spirit and judgment ; visit by plan and to some 
 good purpose. Let civility have its place ; but let religion and ministerial 
 objects have their turn also. Choose for the pulpit subjects of variety ; 
 this will keep curiosity alive, which may be the handmaid of religion ; and 
 it may also put me in the way of crossing every hearer's prevailing fault, 
 and remind him of a duty in which he is most of all deficient." 
 
 In 1796 he was married to Eunice, eldest daughter of Ebenezer Wales, 
 Esq., of Dorchester ; — a lady of great sweetness and excellence of character, 
 and well fitted to adorn a responsible station. 
 
 In May, 1803, he resigned his pastoral charge at Haverhill, on the 
 ground that his salary would not meet the necessary expenses of his family. 
 The step seems to have been taken not without much reluctance and regret ; 
 and, for some time after, his health suffered to such a degree that he was 
 obliged to suspend his ministerial labours, and avail himself of the relaxa- 
 tion and exercise incident to a somewhat protracted journey. In the sum- 
 mer of this year he received a call to settle over the First Congregational 
 Church in Beverly, then recently rendered vacant by the election of Dr. 
 McKeen to the Presidency of Bowdoin College; and, about the same time, 
 proposals were made to him from one or two other churches, which perhaps 
 might have been regarded, in some respects, as still more eligible. He 
 accepted the call at Beverly, and was ' installed the following winter, 
 (December 13, 1803,) the Sermon on the occasion being preached by his 
 friend, the Rev. Thaddeus Mason Harris, of Dorchester. His health, at 
 this ,geriod, was so much enfeebled that he afterwards remarked that, 
 when he preached his Introductory Sermon, he did it under the impression 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 311 
 
 that it might very possibly prove to be his last. His text on the occasion 
 was, — " We all do fade as a leaf." From this time his health began to 
 improve, and he entered upon the labours of his new sphere with great 
 alacrity and acceptance. 
 
 His first efforts seem to have been followed by an increased seriousness 
 in his congregation. In August, 1804, he writes,' — " My labours have 
 been apparently blest more than in any former period. The serious of the 
 Society have expressed to me their joy and gratulation ; the whole assem- 
 bly appears more solemn and attentive and full than formerly." In 
 February, 1805, he writes, — " The additions to the church in less than a 
 year have been nearly fifty : and they seem to adorn their profession." 
 
 The demand for extra services in his congregation, at this period, seemed 
 to impose upon him the necessity of speaking more or less without writing ; 
 and he had a natural talent at this, which rendered it alike easy to himself 
 and agreeable to his heavers. In March, 1806, he began a course of un- 
 written expository lectures in the town hall, " designed " — to use his own 
 language—" to show the history and doctrines of Christ in connection, and 
 to enforce them in a practical and pathetic, rather than in a learned and 
 theoretical, manner." These services attracted very large audiences, so that, 
 within a short time, they were obliged to abandon the town hall, and hold 
 the service in the church. In referring to this course of lectures, in a letter 
 to a friend, many years afterwards, he speaks of them as having been to 
 himself a delightful and profitable exercise, and to his people one of the 
 most popular and useful services he had ever rendered. 
 
 In February, 1807, he lost his excellent mother. With characteristic 
 appropriateness and sensibility he preached a sermon on the occasion to his 
 congregation from the text, — " I bowed down heavily as one that mourneth 
 for his mother." In a letter to a near friend immediately after her death, 
 he wrote as follows : — " Our consolations rise out of the review of as pure a 
 life as is ever witnessed. She had prepared for death by a whole life of 
 constant and lively devotion. If ever children in the world had occasion, 
 we have, to rise up and call our mother blessed. Let us strive after her 
 high attainments in faith, in temper, in devotion, in heavenly mindedness, 
 in liberality to the poor. But what virtue or what grace can I name in 
 which she had not attained excellence ? I have been to spend alone a few 
 minutes in surveying her pale but beautiful countenance ; and, while con- 
 templating it, endeavoured to impress on my mind her recollected counsels, 
 and resolved never to forget the mercy of God to me in such a mother. 
 Let us so live that our death may be calm and peaceful; and that we may 
 ascend at last to the happy world, where we trust she is renewing her 
 devotions with purer joy and brighter fervour, and where we may bo the 
 crown of her rejoicing forever." 
 
 In 1809 he preached the Anniversary Discourse at Plymouth on the 
 Landing of the Pilgrims. It was an occasion congenial with both his taste 
 and his talents, as the Sermon itself proved. 
 
 In the summer of 1810 there was another season of unusual seriousness 
 in his congregation. At this period he was in the habit of exchanging 
 with ministers denominated " Orthodox," who, though they were aware 
 that his religious views were not all in accordance with their own, yet con- 
 
312 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 sidered him as holding so many doctrines in common with themselves as 
 to justify a fellowship of ministerial labours. Subsequently, however, a 
 change iu this respect gradually took place, as the Unitarian controversy 
 advanced, until his exchanges became almost or altogether limited to 
 ministers whose opinions were supposed to be in substantial accordance 
 with his own. As his opinions on some other subjects are known to have 
 undergone a change in the course of his ministry, it would seem probable 
 that this was true in respect to what are commonly called " revivals of 
 religion." In a letter to the Pastor of another Church, dated May, 1826, 
 he writes thus: — "You will do wisely to improve your time in deepening 
 the seriousness of your flock, and in leading forward to ordinances as many 
 of the worthy as you can ; while you have the aid of example in those who 
 have already come, and before your flock may settle down in a more cold 
 and formal state. The Orthodox have now few to join their churches, 
 except in what is technically called revivals ; and the effervescence of such a 
 season, while it often brings excellent persons into the church, frequently 
 throws up to notice, and ranks with professors, those who ultimately bring 
 disgrace upon them. It is far more desirable to have additions from the 
 sober on reflection than from high excitement ; and that persons should be 
 coming in, one, two, three, at a Communion season, than in tens and 
 twenties." And, in another letter to the same person, he writes, — " I am 
 much gratified with the religious state of your parish, the increased 
 seriousness and attention to ordinances, and all in so calm and rational a 
 manner. A gradual and continual increase of the number of professors is 
 better than to see an excited multitude coming in together. Sympathy and 
 passion, the social principle in one form or another, have so much to do in 
 a general excitement, that you know not how much of enlightened and solid 
 principle may have to do with the movement, nor how little may remain 
 when the wind has gone by." 
 
 Early in the year 1818 his health sensibly declined, and it soon became 
 apparent that his disease had more or less connection with the lungs. In 
 the following summer he tried the effect of a journey, but without any 
 material benefit. In the approach of the cold season, he was advised by 
 his physicians to resort to a milder climate ; and, after having made the 
 requisite preparation, he sailed from Boston for Charleston, S. C, on the 
 28th of October. After a tempestuous passage of nearly a fortnight, he 
 reached Charleston, where he was received with every expression of 
 courtesy and kindness. Having remained there about two months, he 
 accepted an invitation to pass some time in the family of James Legare, 
 Esq., on John's Island; and, while there, he, for a short season, took 
 charge of a small parish, preaching once on the Sabbath. After making a 
 short visit to Savannah in April, he set out to travel home by land in the 
 month of May. The journey proved highly beneficial to his health, as it 
 had been gratifying to his taste, and curiosity, and social feelings ; and, on 
 his return, he engaged in his professional labours with as much earnestness, 
 and apparently as much physical energy, as at any preceding period of his 
 life. 
 
 His services were often put in requisition on important public occasions. 
 In 1802, he delivered the Artillery Election Sermon, at Boston; in 1818, 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 313 
 
 the Dudleian Lecture at Cambridge ; in 1823, the Annual Sermon before 
 the Society for Promoting Theological Education in Harvard University ; 
 and in 1827, the Annual Sermon before the Convention of Congregational 
 Ministers in Massachusetts. 
 
 In 1821 he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 In the autumn of 1827 his former complaints returned upon him, and 
 with still more threatening aspect. He, however, retained his accustomed 
 equanimity of spirit, and, in a letter of September 21, he writes thus: — 
 "For one thing I cannot be sufficiently thankful — my bad nerves inspire 
 no gloom. In no period of my life have I enjoyed so much tranquillity, 
 peace, nay, let me say it, joy, religious joy, as in the last two or three 
 months. In the review of my life, the goodness of G-od appears wonderful 
 to me. My course, as far as Providence is concerned, from childhood, 
 seems a path of light, without a cloud of darkness, — an unvaried scene of 
 mercy." It became apparent that he eould not with safety encounter the 
 severity of a Northern climate during the winter ; and, accordingly, on the 
 28th of October, he again embarked at Boston for Charleston, S. C, where 
 he arrived on the 6th of November. Having remained here a few weeks, 
 he went again to visit the family on John's Island, from whom he had 
 previously met so hospitable a welcome. In this delightful retreat he 
 passed a month; when, in consequence of a change in the season, and the 
 prevalence of cold winds, he determined to embark for the Island of Cuba. 
 He sailed on the 9th of February, and, on the morning of the 16th, the 
 high hills of Cuba were descried. Immediately after his arrival at 
 Matanzas, he was induced to go into the interior to visit a friend; and he 
 remained there for several weeks, amidst scenes of grandeur and novelty 
 that greatly impressed him. After this, he spent a few weeks in Matanzas, 
 and its vicinity, and then travelled, in company with some friends and a 
 Spanish guide, to Havanna ; whence, after stopping there for a day or two, 
 he embarked, on the 26th of May, for Charleston. He arrived on Satur- 
 day, the 31st of May ; and, finding that a packet was to sail for New York 
 on Monday following, he immediately resolved to take passage in it. On 
 Sunday morning, he attended the Archdale Church, and heard the Kev. 
 Mr. Otilman preach ; and in the afternoon delivered an extemporaneous 
 discourse himself, with great animation and interest, from the words, — 
 " God said, let there be light," — the design of which was to contrast the 
 spiritual darkness of the region he had just left behind with the glorious 
 light with which our own country is favoured. On Monday he embarked 
 in the Othello for New York ; and, on the first day of the passage, seemed 
 in his usual health and spirits. The next day, however, he was taken ill, 
 though no serious apprehensions were awakened concerning him. Having 
 continued in a feeble state during the week, on Saturday morning, as the 
 ship was approaching quarantine, he arose, dressed himself, and went on 
 deck. His respiration soon became difficult, and violent bleeding ensued. 
 Being asked by one of the passengers if he felt alarmed, he replied, — " No 
 I am in the hands of Q-od, and I trust He will take care of me." But scarcely 
 had these words passed from his lips before it was perceived that death had 
 done its work. The disease had undoubtedly been contracted in the 
 
314 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 climate to which he had gone for relief. He* had endeared himself greatly 
 to his fellow passengers by his intelligent conversation and gentle and 
 attractive manners. His remains were interred on Staten Island, the 
 Funeral service being performed by the Eev. Mr. Miller, of the Eeformed 
 Dutch Church. The tidings of his death produced the deepest sensation at 
 Beverly, where a Funeral Discourse was delivered by the Rev. Dr. Flint 
 of Salem, which was afterwards published. When the intelligence was 
 received at Charleston, a meeting was held in the Second Independent 
 Church, and Resolutions passed expressive of their high estimate of Dr. 
 Abbot's character, and of their cordial sympathy with his bereaved family 
 and congregation. 
 
 I first became acquainted with Dr. Abbot in the spring of 1811, under 
 circumstances which showed some of his more prominent traits of character 
 to great advantage. His brother-in-law, the Rev. Abiel Abbot of Coven- 
 try, who was then conducting my studies preparatory to College, was 
 arraigned by the Consociation of Tolland County to answer to certain 
 charges of heresy [Unitarianism] that were made against him. Mr. Abbot, 
 with his parish, (in distinction from the church,) refused to recognize the 
 jurisdiction of the body which had assembled to try him ; and Dr. Abbot 
 was present to render his brother such aid as the exigency might demand. 
 He expected to make a public defence in the course of the trial, and had 
 made some general preparation for it ; but the occasion for his speaking 
 came earlier than he expected, and took him somewhat by surprise. The 
 effort, however, in respect to skill and self command, and eloquent appeal, 
 was worthy of the best ecclesiastical lawyer in the land. He began by 
 expressing his high respect for the venerable fathers and brethren among 
 whom he found himself, and apologizing for the somewhat embarrassing 
 attitude in which his affection for his brother, no less than his sense of 
 duty, had placed him. He distinctly stated that it was no part of his 
 object to appear as an advocate of his brother's peculiar religious views, 
 and moreover he hesitated not to say that his own views were not, in all 
 respects, in accordance with them. And, after having adroitly managed to 
 disarm opposition, so far as it could be disarmed, and to prepossess the 
 audience strongly in his favour, he proceeded to present the strong points 
 of his case with such inimitable simplicity, such admirable self possession, 
 and such bland and attractive eloquence, as to the mass of his auditors was 
 perfectly irresistible. He did not indeed succeed in procuring his brother's 
 acquittal ; for he was not only dismissed from his church, but virtually 
 deposed from his office ; but the result was not for want of, but in spite of, 
 a most vigorous and impressive effort in his favour. The ministers of the 
 Consociation were treated throughout with perfect respect, and with win- 
 ning and graceful kindness ; and, notwithstanding the great excitement 
 which attended the occasion, and the deep anxiety which was felt in the 
 result, I do not remember ever to have heard from an individual the least 
 reflection upon the frankness and the fairness which marked Dr. Abbot's 
 defence. 
 
 Subsequently to this, my opportunities for intercourse with Dr. Abbot 
 were not frequent, and yet I saw him several times, chiefly in his own 
 family. There he was certainly a model of dignity and affection. I always 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 315 
 
 found hiin gentle and hospitable, entertaining and instructive. He was 
 remarkable, as it seems to me, above almost any other man whom I have 
 known, for always saying the pertinent thing and saying it in the most 
 felicitous manner. When President Monroe made a journey through New 
 England, in 1816, he breakfasted with Dr. Abbot at the house of one of 
 his parishioners ; and, on his return to Virginia, he is said to have 
 remarked that the finest thing he had heard, during his whole tour, was 
 the asking of a blessing at the table by a Mr. Abbot of Beverly. 
 
 At the commencement of his ministry he is understood to have been a 
 believer in the commonly received doctrine of the Trinity ; but, at a pretty 
 early period, — probably before leaving Haverhill, — his views on that point 
 underwent some change. I know of nothing positive, in his published ser- 
 mons, from which his particular views of that subject could be inferred. 
 
 I never heard Dr. Abbot preach but two sermons, and those were at 
 Coventry, on the Sabbath immediately preceding the trial of his brother. 
 His manner, as I remember it, was uncommonly felicitous and engaging. 
 It was more like that of the celebrated William Jay than of any other per- 
 son whom I ever heard. There was a gracefulness, a tenderness, an ear- 
 nestness, that would not let me look away from the preacher, or allow me 
 to think of any thing but what he was saying. One of the sermons which 
 I heard from him was on the "Intercession of Christ," and was afterwards 
 published in a volume entitled " Sermons to Mariners."- The following is 
 an extract from it : — 
 
 " Let it be previously remarked that the Gospel is a religion adapted to beings sinful 
 and ruined. It comes to mankind, as in a state of woful defection from God ; as guilty 
 and exposed to fearful punishment; as wretched and without power to relieve them- 
 selves. This is the current statement of Scripture; and I add that the truth of the 
 melancholy account is confirmed by reason and observation. The corruptions even of 
 the best, of which they are deeply sensible, and which they continually strive to sub- 
 due, the willing profligacy of others, and, in short, the miserable and wicked state of 
 the whole world, are facts too obvious to be denied or disguised. They have been 
 acknowledged in the moral writings of heathens, in terms not dissimilar to those of the 
 sacred writers. To this darkened, corrupt and wretched state of the world correspond 
 the offices which the Divine Redeemer is represented as sustaining. ' Upon Him is laid 
 help,' and He is ' mighty to save ;' therefore we are liable to ruin. He came to ' pro- 
 claim liberty to the captives ;' then we are in bondage. He came to ' redeem us by 
 his precious blood ;' therefore we must have perished, if left without a ransom • for 
 there is nothing superfluous in the Divine economy. As He is ' the light of the world ' 
 it was- in darkness without Him ; and as He is ' the Lamb of God, that taketh away 
 the sins of the world,' the world needed that wonderful propitiation. 
 
 " The reasons of this Divine scheme, we may not be able fully to comprehend : it is 
 sufficient that it is revealed, and that the seal of Heaven is affixed to this overture of 
 mercy to a perishing world. But can we not perceive that it is most happily adapted 
 in all its wonderful apparatus, to engage the attention, to command the confidence, and 
 to excite the affections, of beings in such a state as ours ? Let us consider it for a 
 moment. 
 
 " God is an infinite being and a holy Sovereign ; and man is a transgressor of his 
 law, which is holy, just and good ; and therefore a criminal under his most equal and 
 beneficent Government. The Divine Governor being invisible, and at an infinite exalta- 
 tion above his fallen subjects, there was a suspicion that he was just rather than mer- 
 ciful, and a consequent alienation from Him. This was the frame of mind in the first 
 sinners, who therefore sought to ' hide themselves from the presence of the Lord God 
 among the trees of the garden.' 
 
 " Such, however, was the mercy of God that He would not utterly and at once aban- 
 don his wretched creatures to destruction ; and such his majesty and holiness that He 
 would not immediately announce to the guilty the terms of reconciliation. It was his 
 pleasure to resort to a scheme which displays his perfections in glorious harmony • in 
 which a place is/ound for mercy, while his awful attributes of justice and holiness 'are 
 fully preserved— a plan, in which ' mercy and truth meet together, righteousness and 
 
316 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 peace kiss each other' — ' truth might spring out of the earth and righteousness might 
 look down from Heaven.' 
 
 " This Divine plan was the appointment of a Mediator, who should be able to save 
 to the uttermost them that come unto God by Him ' as He should ' ever live to make 
 intercession for them ' — a Mediator who should bring sinners to repentance, and give 
 an honorable efficacy to that repentance, by his own expiatory sacrifice ; and should 
 present their cries and tears for mercy to God, purified and rendered acceptable by his 
 own intercession." 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Abbot's publications : — 
 Memorial of Divine Benefits : A Sermon preached at Exeter on the 
 15th, and at Haverhill on the 29th, of November, Days of Public Thanks- 
 giving in New Hampshire and Massachusetts, 1798. Traits of Resem- 
 blance in the People of the United States of America to Ancient Israel : 
 A Sermon preached at Haverhill, on the Annual Thanksgiving, 1799. 
 Eulogy on the Life and Character of Washington, delivered, by request, 
 before the inhabitants of the town of Haverhill, on' his Birth-day, 1800. 
 The Duty of Youth : A Sermon occasioned by the death of Mrs. Sarah 
 Ayer, of Haverhill, 1802. Self-preservation : A Sermon preached before 
 the Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company, in Boston, on the Anni- 
 versary of their Election of Officers, 1802. The Mariner's Manual: A 
 Sermon preached in Beverly, 1804. Introductory Address at the Ordina- 
 tion of the Rev. David T. Kimball,* in Ipswich, 1806. A Discourse 
 delivered before the Portsmouth Female Asylum, 1807. A Discourse 
 delivered at Plymouth, at the Celebration of the 188th Anniversary of the 
 Landing of our Forefathers, 1809. A Father's Reasons for Baptizing his 
 Infant Child : A Discourse delivered at Beverly, 1812. Sermons to Mari- 
 ners, — (a duodecimo volume,) 1812. An Address before the Massachu- 
 setts Society for the Suppression of Intemperance, 1815. A Discourse 
 before the Missionary Society of Salem and Vicinity, and the Essex South 
 Musical Society, 1816. A Discourse delivered before the Bible Society 
 of Salem and its Vicinity, on their Anniversary, 1817. The Parent's As- 
 sistant and Sunday School Book, 1822. Charge at the Ordination of the 
 Rev. B. Whitman, 1826. Address before the Berry Street Conference, 
 1826. Ecclesiastical Peace recommended : A Discourse before the An- 
 nual Convention of Congregational Ministers of Massachusetts, 1827. 
 The Example of the First Preachers of the Gospel considered : A Sermon 
 at the Installation of the Rev. Abiel Abbot in the Congregational Church 
 in Peterborough, N. H, 1827. Letters written in the Interior of Cuba, 
 between the Mountains of Arcana to the East, and of Cusco to the West, in 
 
 * David Tenney Kimball, a son of Daniel and Elizabeth (Tenney) Kimball, was born 
 in Bradford, Mass., November 23, 1782. He fitted for College, partly under the instruction 
 of Moses Dow, of Atkinson, N. H., (afterwards the B-ev. Moses Dow, of Beverly, Mass.,) 
 and partly at the Atkinson Academy, under the Hon. John Vose, as Preceptor. He entered 
 Harvard College in 1799, and graduated an excellent scholar, in 1803. For one year after 
 his graduation, he was a teacher in Phillips Academy, Andover, and then commenced his 
 theological studies under the direction of the Rev. Jonathan French. He commenced 
 preaching in March, 1805, and was engaged immediately to supply the pulpit in Ipswich. On 
 the 17th of June, 1806, that congregation unanimously invited him to become their Pastor, 
 and, having accepted their invitation, he was ordained and installed there on the 8th of 
 October, 1806. Here he laboured with great diligence and faithfulness, for nearly forty 
 years, before he was relieved by a colleague. For ten or twelve years, he instructed the 
 children of his parish, at the meeting-house, and at his own dwelling-house, in the Assem- 
 bly's Catechism. He was a man of great conscientiousness, modesty and humility. He was 
 married October 12, 1807, to Dolly Varnum Coburn, daughter of Capt. Peter and Mrs. Eliza- 
 beth Coburn, of Dracut, and had seven children, — five sons and two daughters. He died at 
 Ipswich, on the 3d of February, 1860, aged seventy-seven years. 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 317 
 
 the months of February, March, April and May, 1828, (an octavo vol- 
 ume.) A Second volume of Sermons, in connection with a Memoir of the 
 Author's Life, by his Son-in-law, the Kev. S. Everett, 1831. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ANDREW P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 New Yoke, April \b, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir : I avail myself of a brief interval of leisure, during my sojourn 
 in this city, to communicate to you such reminiscences of the Pastor of my 
 boyhood, the Rev. Abiel Abbot, D. D., of Beverly, as may aid you in a, sketch 
 of his life and character for your forthcoming work. 
 
 I always think of Dr. Abbot as pre-eminently distinguished by his native 
 and acquired endowments for the office of a Parish Minister. His peculiar 
 felicities of manner, mind and character, were all such as came into constant 
 exercise in his profession, while his deficiencies were such as could not inter- 
 fere with his acceptance and usefulness in his own appropriate sphere. An 
 utter stranger could not have been five minutes in his society without being 
 impressed with the blended dignity and suavity of his countenance and manner. 
 His face seemed incapable of austerity or sternness ; yet the smile which never 
 left his features, never settled upon them, but, by its incessant and luminous 
 play, indicated the constant activity of the kindest sentiments and emotions. 
 At the same time, there was a sort of solemnity pervading his every look and 
 utterance, which checked the remotest approach to levity in his presence, and 
 made one feel that he never laid aside the consciousness of his sacred calling. 
 His conversational powers were singularly rich and attractive. In a social 
 circle, without exacting, he always engrossed, attention. In a well filled par- 
 lour, when he was present, the separate groups would gradually dissolve 
 themselves, and the tete-a-tete conversations would cease, and the whole com- 
 pany would remain delighted listeners, till the sober hour of ten reminded 
 them how fast and how unconsciously the evening had glided away. On such 
 occasions, though religious subjects were never obtruded, yet it was impossi- 
 ble for him to tell an anecdote, describe an adventure, or discourse on a topic 
 of history or science, without dropping some hint, suggestive of Providence, 
 duty, or accountableness. Had I his skill, or more properly speaking his 
 unartificial tact, of communicating religious thought and impulse indirectly, 
 I should deem it the part of wisdom in me almost never to assume in private 
 the form of direct address on religious themes. He had travelled much, and 
 with open eyes and heart; and, as I have since viewed many of the scenes which 
 I have heard him describe, my sentiments of beauty, awe and adoration have 
 hardly been more vivid, than when his description made me familiar with them 
 in my boyhood. 
 
 His social sympathies were quick and tender. Though, in a parish three 
 times as large as most of our large New England parishes are now, he could, 
 by the most assiduous pastoral visiting, spend but little time with the indi- 
 vidual members of his flock, they all felt that they were borne on his heart in 
 all their joys and sorrows, nor was there a single family which did not deem 
 him virtually one of themselves. The sick and dying, the afflicted, poor, soli- 
 tary and aged, occupied the greater part of his time ; but those in health and 
 prosperity, though they seldom saw him, except by their express invitation, 
 never felt themselves neglected. 
 
 The children of his flock were peculiarly dear to him. He knew them all by 
 name, and never passed one of them without a kind word. He took great 
 interest in the public schools, attended all their examinations as Chairman of 
 the school committee, almost uniformly addressed them, and sore was the dis- 
 appointment when, from courtesy, he devolved that office upon another. No 
 
318 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 reward was so eagerly sought or so highly prized as his recognition of peculiar 
 proficiency or excellence. I well remember his public " catechizings " 'before 
 the formation of our parish Sunday School, and, (contrary to the usual testi- 
 mony with regard to these exercises,) they were gladly and eagerly thronged, 
 and I doubt whether parental authority was ever employed to coerce attend- 
 ance. 
 
 His home was happy. His house proffered unstinted hospitality, and sel- 
 dom was without guests from abroad, while all classes of his parishioners 
 found an open and cordial welcome there. My intimacy with his younger 
 children led me to resort thither in season and out of season, yet never out 
 of season; for I was never happier than when a call a little too early in the 
 morning brought me into the circle at the hour of family pra}'er. At this sea- 
 son the fine parlour organ was always put in requisition, and a hymn appropri- 
 ate either to the season or to the Scripture lesson of the morning, was read 
 and sung,— he himself taking the lead in a voice of great compass and power, 
 and joined by at least five or six voices from his own domestic choir; then 
 followed the prayer, which always seemed the outpouring of a heart so full of 
 gratitude for the blessings and joys of a Christian home, as hardly to find scope 
 for petition. And the spirit of the morning prayer seemed to rest on the whole 
 family through the day, in contentment, cheerful activity, unruffled harmony 
 and overflowing kindness, rendering a day's life under their roof a beautiful 
 commentary on that precious text of St. Paul, — " The church that is in thy 
 house." 
 
 As a Preacher Dr. Abbot was at once calm and fervent, never dull, sel- 
 dom impassioned. His utterance was distinct and deliberate, and the modu- 
 lations of his voice natural and graceful. He used, if I remember right, but 
 little of what is commonly called gesture ; yet eye, face and attitude all helped 
 him preach, and seemed to lend themselves spontaneously to the impression 
 which he was labouring to produce. His subjects were almost always of the 
 class denominated evangelical ; but his texts were full as often from the Old 
 Testament as from the New ; and .he was peculiarly fond both of tracing the 
 Gospel in its types and foreshadowings, and of engrafting Gospel lessons on 
 striking passages of Jewish biography and history. I find in my own memory 
 some of the narratives of the Hebrew Scriptures, which are now very seldom 
 referred to, standing out conspicuously, and garnished with edifying practical 
 comments from his lips. He preached a great many expositor}' sermons, to 
 the composition of which he brought the best scholarship of his day, together 
 with the workings of a mind ready to find gold and diamonds beneath the sur- 
 face of all Scripture. Perhaps his greatest merit as a preacher was the uni- 
 form adaptation of his sermons to time, place and circumstances. There 
 always seemed some reason why each sermon should be preached then and 
 there. His best sermons were strictly occasional ; and when the posthumous 
 volume of his published sermons first appeared, I found that the most strik- 
 ing passages of several of them were omitted, as too exclusively local for pub- 
 lication, and their place supplied by asterisks. On this account, as well as 
 from the impossibility of printing his look and manner, that volume fails to 
 do justice to his real reputation and power as a preacher. 
 
 His devotional services were peculiarly interesting and impressive. In them 
 he took distinct cognizance of all events of public and general interest, and of 
 whatever events in the town or parish could, by any possibility, find place in 
 an exercise of social devotion, and all this, without ever offering what has 
 been termed a gossiping prayer. So far from letting down the dignity of the 
 service by this minuteness, he, on the other hand, elevated and sanctified even 
 trivial incidents by the sustained dignity and fervour with which he spread 
 out before the Most High in thanksgiving or supplication the blessings, sorrows 
 
ABIEL ABBOT. 
 
 319 
 
 and needs of individuals or the community. During his whole lifetime, and 
 no doubt in great part on account of the unfailing edification derived from his 
 style of public prayer, his people retained the habit of sending in notes, not 
 only on the death of friends, but in sickness, on the birth of children, when 
 bound to sea, or on their return from voyages, however brief. I counted on 
 one occasion seventeen of these notes. He seldom grouped them, and when he 
 did, he always individualized cases of special interest. On most occasions he 
 referred to each case by itself, generally from memory, though he sometimes 
 placed the entire pile of notes on the pulpit cushion, and glanced his eye at 
 them successively. And such was the copiousness and unstudied variety of 
 his devotional language, that he never seemed to repeat himself, and these 
 numerous details only added to the richness, beauty and fervour of his 
 prayers. 
 
 Both as a Preacher and Pastor he manifested an exemplary prudence ; — 
 exemplary I say, — for it was the prudence not of a time-server, but ef one 
 who, in the discharge -of his duty, sought to remove whatever might serve as 
 a snare or a stumbling block to any. He made no compromise with sin ; and 
 while he commemorated the religious worth of all who died in the faith of the 
 Gospel, he uniformly withheld the funeral eulogy, where a life, however hon- 
 ourable in its worldly aspects, had not received its highest consecration by 
 Christian principle and profession. Nor, when there had been connected with 
 the death of an individual circumstances adapted for admonition, did he 
 shrink from the painful duty; yet, in such cases, he performed it with an admi- 
 rable, kindly skill, which at once spared the feelings of friends, and sent the 
 lesson home in full force to the hearts of his hearers. 
 
 I have heard it said that Dr. Abbot concealed his theological opinions, and 
 practised a temporizing policy with regard to the points at issue between the 
 two great parties into which the Congregational Body was divided. I am able 
 to say, from very distinct remembrance, that there was no ground for this 
 charge. I can call to mind sermons in which he maintained explicitly the 
 inferiority of the Son to the Father, and other doctrines which form no part 
 of the creed of the "Orthodox" school. Indeed, I had no more doubt of the 
 views of Christian doctrine which he entertained, than I have of those which I 
 have been accustomed to recognize in my own preaching. He was a high 
 Arian ; and when, after his death, I first read Dr. Price's " Sermons on 
 Christian Doctrine," I thought that I could recognize almost precisely the 
 form of belief which I had been accustomed to hear set forth by our Pastor. 
 
 There were no doubt several circumstances that served to give colour to the 
 charge of concealment to which I have referred. Among them was the fact 
 that nearly half his congregation consisted of Trinitarian Calvinists, who left 
 the parish before or shortly after the settlement of his successor. I think that 
 all, and know that many, of these were fully aware how far his theological 
 opinions differed from theirs ; but I know also how strong and intimate was 
 their attachment to his person and character, so as to render the disruption of 
 the parish absolutely impossible while he lived, though it had long been 
 regarded as inevitable whenever he should be removed. 
 
 Then, too, there was an important point in which his sympathies were sin- 
 cerely enlisted with the Calvinistic portion of the church. He had great con- 
 fidence in "Revival measures," and at two, if not three, different periods qf 
 his ministry, employed the usual means of extra services and inquiry meet- 
 ings ; and these measures, though he regarded and represented them as the 
 result of his own independent judgment and deliberate choice, may have sub- 
 jected him to the imputation of seeking to identify himself with a portion of 
 the Church other than that to which he belonged by his theological sympa 
 thies. 
 
320 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 He was also earnestly solicitous to unite the divided portions of the Chris- 
 tian Body. He loved to dwell on points of agreement rather than difference. 
 He made every possible concession for the sake of peace. He sincerely loved 
 good men of every name, and was desirous of conciliating their reciprocal 
 esteem and affection. Those not of his flock might easily have supposed that 
 these pacific expressions and overtures were made at the expense of entire 
 frankness and explicitness as to his own views ; but with those who statedly 
 listened to his preaching he left no room for this suspicion. 
 
 I was present the last time he appeared before his people, just as he was 
 embarking for Cuba. His health was too much impaired to admit of his 
 preaching. At the close of the afternoon sermon, he opened the Bible and 
 read the passage of Scripture, in which Samuel, in his old age, takes a stone 
 and sets it up between Jlizpeh and Shen, calling it Ebenezer, and saying, — 
 "Hitherto hath the Lord helped me." At those words he closed the Bible, 
 and said, with the calmness of deep emotion, — " Hitherto hath the Lord helped 
 me." He then offered a brief review of the aims and outward results of his 
 ministry, referred to the strong probability that he was then standing in the 
 pulpit for the last time, expressed his entire willingness to entrust his future 
 to Him who " doeth all things well," and invoked a parting blessing upon his 
 flock. The address and the closing prayer and benediction constituted the 
 most deeply affecting service that I ever attended ; — the more so from his per- 
 fectly calm, quiet and self collected manner, indicating a serenity of spirit too 
 profound for agitation or disturbance. The result of his voyage, the restora- 
 tion of his health by his winter's residence at Cuba, and his death by fever on 
 his homeward passage from Charleston, are known to you through the Memoir 
 prefixed to his Sermons. 
 
 I have given you his character, as it appeared to me, and I believe to all, 
 who sat under his ministry. If my sketch seem highly coloured, you must 
 impute it to the near and dear relation in which he stood to me, and to the fact 
 that his kindness is most intimately associated with so many of the happiest 
 remembrances of my early life. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 Sincerely Yours, 
 
 A. P. PEABODY. 
 
 JACOB ABBOT. 
 
 1795—1834. 
 
 PROM THE REV. ABIEL ABBOT, D. D. 
 
 West Cambridge, May 25, 1858. 
 
 My dear Sir : I cannot refuse your request for some account of my 
 lamented brother, the Rev. Jacob Abbot ; though his early history was so 
 blended with my own that it will be difficult for me to do what you ask and 
 avoid the appearance of egotism. I shall confine myself chiefly to a state- 
 ment of the more important facts in his life, and these will supply, to a 
 considerable extent, the material from which to form an estimate of his 
 character. 
 
 Jacob Abbot, a son of Major Abiel Abbot and Dorcas his wife, was 
 born in Wilton, N. H., on f he 7th of January, 1768. He was my play- 
 
JACOB ABBOT. 321 
 
 mate from early ohildhood. He was not irascible, turbulent or obstinate. 
 I have no recollection that any quarrel ever existed between him and any 
 of his brothers, or that he was ever guilty of any impertinence or ill-tem- 
 per towards his parents or superiors. As soon as we were able, we were 
 required to assist our mother by taking care of the younger children ; and, 
 as we grew, there were many things in which we could assist our father. 
 My brother was industrious, quiet, uncomplaining, and ever ready to dis- 
 charge every duty that devolved upon him. He was always my companion. 
 We were habituated early to obey our parents, and it was our happiness 
 to do so. I do not recollect to have ever known of his being guilty of an 
 instance of falsehood, or prevarication, or deceit; of uttering a profane 
 word, or endeavouring to provoke or irritate his playmates. Like other 
 boys, he was fond of play, and was probably sometimes chafed and vexed ; 
 but he was never boisterous, harsh and noisy. He was always cheerful, 
 obliging, pleasant. It was not often that we found boys to play with, 
 there being none in the neighbourhood of our age ; and when we went to 
 school, especially in the summer, we found there many more girls than 
 boys. The schools were kept for short terms, and the teachers were not 
 well instructed. It was the practice of all the members of the family, as 
 far as possible, to attend public worship on the Sabbath, though the 
 meeting-house was distant three miles, and the greater part of us were 
 obliged to walk. We were required very strictly to observe the Sabbath. 
 It was the practice of our parents to hear us read and to read themselves ; 
 and Sunday after meeting we were constantly taught the Assembly's Cate- 
 chism and some short hymns. 
 
 Jacob was a good scholar for that day, and was always unexceptionable 
 in his deportment. When he was about twelve years old, I went away to 
 school, and was not much with him except in vacations. He continued to 
 labour on the farm diligently, except that he attended school for about 
 eight weeks in the winter till he was eighteen years old. The winter 
 schools were much improved after 1781-82, as care was taken to procure 
 better qualified teachers. In 1786 he went to the Andover Academy, 
 and remained there for about a year ; but the next year he returned to 
 Wilton, and prosecuted his studies in preparation for College, under a Mr. 
 Birge, a very competent teacher, who had now opened a school in that 
 place. 
 
 He entered the Freshman class in Harvard College, in July, 1788, 
 when he was in his twenty-first year. Here he was intimately associated 
 with his cousin, (afterwards the Rev. Dr. Abiel Abbot, of Beverly,) 
 who was also his classmate, and whose tastes were, in no small degree, 
 congenial with his own. He had now acquired such firmness of moral 
 principles, and was so discreet in his general deportment, that he passed 
 through College without any censure, and was much esteemed both by the 
 Government and his fellow-students. He took a high rank in his class as 
 a scholar, as was evidenced by the fact that he had a forensic at his gradua- 
 tion. 
 
 Upon leaving College in 1792, he engaged in a school in Billerica, 
 which he taught with full satisfaction to his employers. Whatever of 
 leisure he could command, he devoted to the study of Theology, and 
 
 Vol. VIII. 21 
 
322 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 received important aid from the Rev. Dr. Cumming, the Congregational 
 minister of that place. After remaining somewhat less than a year at 
 Billerica, he gave up his school, and returned to Cambridge, where he 
 continued his theological studies for a short time, it is believed, under the 
 direction of Dr. Tappan, who had the year before been inducted to the 
 Professorship of Theology. After leaving Cambridge, he spent some time 
 in his native place ; and, if my memory serves me, he commenced preach- 
 ing in the spring or summer of 1795. After preaching in various places 
 until the autumn of the year 1797, he came to Coventry to visit me, and 
 shortly after was employed to preach in the neighbouring parish of Gilead. 
 Mr. Appleton, of Hampton, N. H., (afterwards the Piev. Dr. Appleton, 
 President of Bowdoin College,) called on me about this time, with a view 
 to engage him to supply the pulpit at Hampton Falls, with reference to a 
 settlement ; and when the proposal was communicated to my brother, he 
 signified his willingness to accept it. Accordingly, when his engagement 
 at Gilead had expired, which I think was in January, 1798, he went to 
 Hampton Falls and commenced preaching there as a candidate. In due 
 time the Church and Society presented him a call, which he accepted, and, 
 on the 15th of August following, he was constituted their Pastor by the 
 usual solemnities. 
 
 , My brother lived in much harmony with his people, though they were 
 never able to give him an adequate support. In 1809 he was invited to 
 take charge of Dummer Academy, Newbury ; and, as this was a promis- 
 ing field of usefulness, and withal one which he was well qualified to 
 occupy, and as he would here be relieved from the embarrassment to which 
 he was subjected from an incompetent support, many of his friends were 
 inclined to think that it was his duty to avail himself of this opportunity 
 of improving his condition. He, however, thought proper to refer the 
 matter to the judgment of an Ecclesiastical Council; and they, in view of 
 all the circumstances of the case, deemed it expedient that his relation to 
 his people should not then be dissolved. They thought it more important 
 •that he should remain, from the fact that Mr. Appleton, his nearest minis- 
 terial neighbour, with whom he was on terms of the greatest intimacy, 
 had, a short time before, left Hampton to become President of Bowdoin 
 College. Several members of the Council came prepared to assure the 
 people of Hampton Falls that they should have assistance from some of 
 the liberal and wealthy members of their parishes, if it should be neces- 
 sary in order to enable them to retain their Pastor. 
 
 For several years, while his family was not large, he received as boarders 
 and pupils young men who had been suspended from College. By this 
 means he was assisted in the support of his family, and, at the same time, 
 was enabled to preserve and improve his knowledge of the classics. His 
 kindly and agreeable manner towards his pupils, as well as the great faith- 
 fulness with which he directed their studies, not only won their affection 
 and confidence, but gave entire satisfaction to their parents and to the 
 College Faculty. Their gratitude and that of their friends was shown by 
 many cordial expressions of good will. 
 
 He was, for many years, an active and useful member of the Board of 
 Trustees of the Exeter Phillips Academy. He was regular in attending 
 
JACOB ABBOT. 323 
 
 their meetings and the examinations of the students, and did his utmost, 
 in every way, to promote the prosperity of the Institution. He was also, 
 for several years, a useful Trustee of the Female Academy at Derry. 
 
 Though my brother remained with his people for about seventeen years 
 after he received the invitation from Dummer Academy, he was always 
 more or less embarrassed for want of adequate means of support; and, at 
 length, a mutually satisfactory arrangement was made for the dissolution 
 of his pastoral relation. Accordingly, he resigned his charge on the 1st 
 of April, 1826 ; and the friendship which had always existed between him 
 and his people remained unimpaired. He often visited them, and preached 
 for them, and was always ready to aid them by his friendly advice. 
 
 About the time that he resigned his pastoral charge, he purchased a farm 
 of two hundred acres in Windham, N. H., to which place he moved his 
 large family. He preached occasionally in neighbouring parishes. During 
 the winter of 1827-28 he supplied Dr. Abbot's pulpit in Beverly, while 
 the latter was on a visit to the South, and to the Island of Cuba, for the 
 benefit of his health. He preached at Windham, after a Unitarian Society 
 was formed there, and rendered himself useful by superintending the 
 schools in that town. 
 
 The circumstances of his death were deeply afflictive. On Sunday, the 
 second of November, 1834, as he was crossing a pond on his return from 
 meeting, the boat was upset, and he and a neighbour who was with him, 
 were drowned. The event carried deep sorrow into every community in 
 which he had been known. 
 
 Mr. Abbot was married, at an early period of his ministry, to Catha- 
 rine, daughter of the Eev. Ebenezer Thayer, of Hampton, N, H. They 
 had eleven children, ten of whom lived to adult age. Mrs. Abbot died on 
 the 27th of January, 1843. Very truly yours, 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT. 
 
 FROM THE REV. EPHRAIM ABBOT. 
 
 Westford, Mass., May 23, 1864. 
 
 Rev. and Dear Sir : I have received your letter, and embrace the earliest 
 opportunity to comply with the request contained in it. 
 
 My acquaintance with the Rev. Jacob Abbot, of Hampton Falls, commenced 
 in 1808, when I was introduced to him and his brother, the Rev. Dr. Abiel 
 Abbot, by the Rev. Jonathan French, of Andover, under whose instruction I 
 was than pursuing theological studies. He was a member of the Council at 
 my Ordination, in Greenland, N. H., in 1813. Afterwards our intercourse, 
 including pulpit exchanges, was frequent. We often met in the Piscataqua 
 Ministerial Association, and in the Piscataqua Missionary Society, where he 
 was always a welcome and respected member. He took a deep interest in 
 education, and through his influence the schools in Hampton Falls were greatly 
 in advance of those in the neighbouring towns, and the persons educated in 
 them were distinguished for intelligence and respectability. He was a man 
 of much reading and was well acquainted with Ecclesiastical History. His 
 sermons were always well studied, illustrative of his text, and presenting the 
 truth contained in it in a clear and strong light. They were generally more 
 practical than doctrinal. The object he constantly kept in view in his preach- 
 ing was to enlighten the understanding and elevate the moral and religious 
 character of his hearers. His success in this respect was very manifest in the 
 
324 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 elevated tone of intelligence and Christian feeling and deportment that pre- 
 vailed among his people. He wrote in a plain neat style, and was very 
 methodical in the arrangement of his subject. He had a logical mind, and 
 could conduct an argument with great skill; hut, because he loved peace, he 
 avoided "perverse disputings." He had not the graceful elocution of his 
 cousin, the Rev. Dr. Abiel Abbot, of Beverly; but his utterance was distinct, 
 his pronunciation good, his voice pleasant, and his maimer altogether impres- 
 sive. He was exceedingly unostentatious and simple in his maimers, and so 
 easy of access that a child would .not be embarrassed in his presence. 
 
 Mr. Abbot's parish was very small. There were only about five hundred 
 people in the town, and a large part of them were of the Freewill Baptist 
 denomination. His salary was three hundred dollars; a parsonage on which 
 he kept a horse and three cows; and ten cords of pine wood and six cords of 
 hard wood, which, though small for the support of his family, was a heavy 
 burden for his little Society. He might have occupied a situation that would 
 have given him a much better salary than he received, but his parish were 
 unwilling to release him, and he feared that, if he left it, it would be long before 
 a suitable minister "could be settled, if the parish were not entirely broken up. 
 He therefore remained there twenty-six years. 
 
 I was a member of the Council by which he was finally dismissed, and saw 
 abundant evidence of the affection of his parishioners, and of their reluctance 
 to part with him. But we thought the circumstances of the parish made the 
 separation necessary, and the connection was therefore dissolved. We recom- 
 ntended him as an able and faithful minister of Christ. 
 
 Mr. Abbot was blessed with an excellent wife, and, with their united coun- 
 sel educated their ten children so well that they all became worthy and very 
 respectable members of society. They were early taught that all honest and 
 useful labour is honourable, and they all, when not attending to their literary 
 studies, diligently and cheerfully engaged in any work which could promote 
 the interests of the family. Though Mr. Abbot's salary in money was only 
 three hundred dollars, he purchased, soon after his dismission, a farm in 
 "Windham, N. H., for which he paid immediately the full price of four thousand 
 dollars. Yet they always had enough to live upon, and such was their 
 hospitality that their parishioners thought that the company they entertained 
 was equal to the constant board of one and a half persons, besides which, they 
 gave a very considerable amount in charity. 
 
 After Mr. Abbot removed to "Windham, he performed considerable labour on 
 his farm; but, during.his ministry in Hampton Falls, he performed very little 
 manual labour except in hay time. He religiously devoted the greater part of 
 his time to reading, writing and all ministerial duties. At the time of my 
 Ordination he said to me, as a truth he had learned from his own experience, 
 — " You have a small parish, and you will be obliged to do much visiting 
 among your people." 
 
 Regretting that I am not able to give you a more extended account of my 
 excellent friend, 
 
 I am, with high esteem and respect, 
 
 Your brother in Christ, 
 
 EPHRAIM ABBOT. 
 
 I venture to supplement these letters by a few of my own personal 
 recollections concerning the subject of them ; for though they reach back 
 to an early period of my life, time has done little to impair their vividness. 
 
 I saw Mr. Abbot first in the spring of 1811, when he came to Coventry 
 to visit his brother, under whom I was then pursuing my studies prepara- 
 
JACOB ABBOT. 325 
 
 tory to entering College. He remained there several days, during which I 
 had the opportunity of seeing him almost constantly, and, as the Sabbath 
 was included, I heard him preach both parts of the day. Within the next 
 half dozen years I visited him two or three times at his own house at 
 Hampton Falls, spending a day or two at each visit. These were the only 
 opportunities of personal intercourse with him that I enjoyed, though I 
 have been well acquainted with several of his intimate friends, who have 
 communicated to me at large their impressions concerning him. 
 
 Mr. Abbot was of about the medium height, symmetrically formed, with 
 a face indicative at once of good-sense and good-nature. His manners, 
 though without much artificial polish, were simple and natural, and well 
 fitted to awaken confidence and good— will. As soon as you began to eon- 
 verse with him, you found yourself in contact with a well-balanced and 
 well-furnished mind, that brought forth nothing that was not well worth 
 listening to. He did not say brilliant or startling things, but his words 
 6eemed well-considered, and weighty, and always to the-point. There was 
 not the semblance of forwardness about him, — nothing that was allied to 
 any thing like personal display ; though his modesty imposed no restraint 
 that was embarrassing to himself, or unpleasant to those with whom he 
 conversed. ' He was generally sedate and always dignified, while yet he 
 knew how to unbend in familiar intercourse, and attracted attention as 
 well by his good-humour as his sound common sense. 
 
 In his family he was a model of conjugal and parental dignity and ten- 
 derness. I could see that his presence made a perpetual sunshine in that 
 dwelling. His children knew no greater pleasure than to hang upon his 
 lips, and those who survive know no greater now than to speak his praise 
 and embalm his memory. His hospitality scarcely knew a limit, and those 
 who had enjoyed it once were eager for the repetition of the privilege. 
 
 Mr. Abbot had a more than commonly active mind, and, so far as his 
 circumstances would permit, he was a diligent student. In his theological 
 views he is understood to have been an Arian, probably to the close of his 
 life. His discourses contained little from which Christians of any denomin- 
 ation would dissent, though they did not contain every thing that all would 
 desire. Judging from a single sermon of his in print, and two or three in 
 manuscript, which I have had the opportunity of reading, as well as from 
 my general recollections of the two that I heard him preach at Coventry, 
 and I may add from the testimony of some who were familiar with his 
 preaching, I should suppose that his sermons were written with great 
 logical correctness, luminous simplicity and classical purity. I have 
 heard, upon good authority, that while Chief Justice Parsons lived at 
 Newburyport, Mr. Abbot was his favourite among all the preachers with 
 whom his minister was accustomed to exchange ; and that too, when- there 
 were among them one or two of the most popular preachers in Massachu- 
 setts. But it was the matter rather than the manner that attracted him. 
 His voice was of moderate compass, and, if my memory serves me, not par- 
 ticularly melodious ; and I think he had little or no gesture ; but his 
 manner was simple, grave, and not otherwise than agreeable. 
 
 Mr. Abbot' commanded, in a high degree, the respect not only of his own 
 congregation, but of the people generally throughout the region in which 
 
326 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 he lived. His brethren in the ministry were strongly attached to him, 
 and none more than the venerable Dr. Buekminster of Portsmouth, who 
 continued to exchange with him till the close of life. 
 
 JOHN SHERMAN* 
 
 1796 — 1828. 
 
 John Sherman, the eldest son of John and Rebecca (Austin) Sherman, 
 was born in New Haven, Conn., on the 30th of June, 1772. His father 
 was the eldest son of Roger Sherman, one of the Signers of the Declaration 
 of Independence ; and his mother was a daughter of David Austin, Collec- 
 tor of Customs of the United Slates for the port of New Haven, and sister 
 of the Rev. David Austin, who was for some time Pastor of the Presbyte- 
 rian Church in Elizabethtown, N. J. Of the history of his very early 
 years nothing can now be ascertained. He entered Yale College when he 
 was not far from sixteen years of age, and graduated in the class of 1792. 
 He studied Theology partly under President Dwight, who, it is said, cau- 
 tioned him in regard to his proneness to metaphysical speculation ; though 
 the greater part of his theological training was under his uncle, then min- 
 ister of Elizabethtown. He was licensed to preach, by the New Haven 
 Association, sometime in 1796, and, having accepted a unanimous call from 
 the First Church and Society in Mansfield, Conn., was ordained and 
 installed as their Pastor on the 15th of November, 1797. 
 
 Mr. Sherman's early services met with much favour from his congregation. 
 Divisions which had existed under a previous ministry were healed, and, 
 about five months after his settlement a powerful revival of religion took 
 place in connection with his labours, which brought nearly one hundred 
 persons into the church. 
 
 Not very long after his settlement at Mansfield he began to doubt in 
 respect to some of the doctrines which he had been accustomed to believe 
 and preach, particularly the doctrine of the Trinity, and of the Divine and 
 human natures in the person of Christ ; and the result of his inquiries was 
 that he became fully convinced, and openly avowed his conviction, that 
 neither of these doctrines is contained in the Bible. Much the larger part 
 of his congregation were desirous of retaining him as their Pastor, though 
 there were a small number who demurred, and the Association of Windham 
 County, of which he was a member, immediately took the initiatory steps 
 for bringing the case to trial. The letter from the Rev. Abiel Abbot, 
 appended to this narrative, supersedes the necessity of any further details 
 here of the controversy which issued in his removal from Mansfield. In 1805, 
 he published, in an octavo volume of two hundred pages, a work bearing 
 the following title : — " One God in one Person only : and Jesus Christ a 
 Being distinct from God, dependent upon Him for his Existence, and his 
 
 * View of Ecclesiastical Proceedings in the County of Windham, Conn., <tc. — Trenton 
 Falls Illustrated, 2d ed. — Belsham's Life of Theophilus Lindscy.— MSS. from Rev. Ahiel 
 Abhot, D. D., & Hon. R. S. Baldwin. 
 
JOHN SHERMAN. 327 
 
 Various Powers ; Maintained and Defended." This was the first formal and 
 elaborate defence of Unitarianism that ever appeared in New England. It 
 was noticed in a respectful, though somewhat non-committal, manner in the 
 Monthly Anthology, and it was replied to by the Rev. Daniel Dow, of 
 Thompson, Conn., in a pamphlet entitled "Familiar Letters to the Rev. 
 John Sherman, once Pastor of a Church in Mansfield, in particular refer- 
 ence to his late Antitrinitarian Treatise." An Answer to this appeared 
 under the title of " A Wreath for the Rev. Daniel Dow," &c, which was 
 attributed to the late Judge Vanderkemp. In 1806, Mr. Sherman pub- 
 lished a " View of Ecclesiastical Proceedings in the County of Windham, 
 Conn., in which the Original Association of that County and a few mem- 
 bers of the First Church in Mansfield were concerned ; containing Public 
 Documents, Letters, &c, relative to the Subject : To which are added the 
 Result of Council, and Addresses to the Society, the Church, the Youth 
 of Mansfield and others." This pamphlet was answered the next year in 
 one by the Rev. Moses C. Welch, Pastor of the Church in North Mans- 
 field, entitled " Misrepresentations detected : or Strictures and Familiar 
 Remarks upon the View, by John Sherman, A. B., of Ecclesiastical Pro- 
 ceedings in the County of Windham." As these were among the earliest, 
 so they were among the most earnest and severe, of all the pamphlets that 
 have been written in connection with the Unitarian controversy. 
 
 After Mr. Sherman's difficulties at Mansfield had taken on a very threat- 
 ening aspect, he made a visit to Oldenbarneveld, in the neighbourhood of 
 Trenton Falls, N. Y., where some of his relatives were settled. Here lived 
 Colonel Mappa and Judge Vanderkemp, both zealous Unitarians, and, on 
 hearing Mr. Sherman preach, they were so much attracted by him that 
 they resolved to make an effort to secure his permanent services. Accord- 
 ingly, the church with which these gentlemen and their families were con- 
 nected, styling themselves "The Reformed Christian Church," after Mr. 
 Sherman's return to Mansfield, invited him to become their Pastor ; and 
 lie was disposed to accept the invitation. He, accordingly, took measures 
 for convening a Council to effect his dismission ; and this Council, which 
 consisted of the Rev. Messrs. Henry Channing of New London, Aaron 
 Bancroft of Worcester, Salmon Cone of Colchester, Abiel Abbot of Coven- 
 try, and John Thornton Kirkland, of Boston, with a delegate from each 
 church, met on the 23d of October, 1805, and came to the following 
 Result : 
 
 " It appearing to this Council that Mr. Sherman's exercise of his minis- 
 try in this place is attended with difficulties and embarrassments, seriously 
 affecting his personal comfort and usefulness, and the union and prosperity 
 of this Church and Society, — 
 
 " Voted, First, That it is expedient and proper that the ministerial connec- 
 tion of the Rev. John Sherman with the First Church and Society in this 
 place should be dissolved, and it is hereby dissolved. 
 
 " Voted, Secondly, That this Council find Mr. Sherman to have been, 
 till this time, in regular standing as minister of this church. They give 
 their testimony to his fair moral character, express their favourable senti- 
 ments of his ministerial gifts, and do recommend him to the kind reception 
 of such churches as may see fit to employ him; subjoining that, by this 
 
328 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 recommendation, the Council do not consider themselves as giving their 
 approbation of Mr. Sherman's peculiar phraseology, or circumstantial 
 difference of sentiment, on the subject of the Trinity." 
 
 A few weeks after his dismission, he received a communication signed by 
 five prominent individuals in behalf of the Society, signifying their strong 
 attachment to him, their high appreciation of his services as a minister, 
 their best wishes for his future usefulness, and their earnest desire that he 
 would publish a statement of all the important facts having a bearing upon 
 his dismission. 
 
 About two months after his dismission, and after he had reached Olden- 
 barneveld, a messenger from Mansfield came to him, bringing him a call 
 from both the Church and Society which he had left, to return to them and 
 resume the pastoral relation. He declined the invitation, on the ground 
 that he thought there were opportunities of more extensive usefulness in 
 the field to which he had then just been introduced ; and, in the same com- 
 munication, he went into a somewhat elaborate view of the points of 
 difference between him and his Orthodox brethren. The paper is written 
 with no small ability and in a tone strongly controversial. 
 
 Mr. Sherman was installed Pastor of the Church at Oldenbarneveld, 
 (Trenton Village.) on the 9th of March, 1806. He continued to preach, 
 however, but a short time ; and, in order to provide more comforta- 
 bly for his increasing family, he subsequently established an Academy 
 in the neighbourhood, which soon acquired great popularity, and occupied 
 nearly his whole attention for many years. In 1822 he caused a house to 
 be built at the Falls for the accommodation of visitors, which he called 
 the " Rural Resort." The next year he removed thither with his family, 
 and this was his last earthly home. He died on the 2d of August, 1828, 
 in the fifty-seventh year of his age, and was buried, by his special request, 
 on the grounds he so much loved, and in view of the large hotel he had 
 been instrumental in establishing. 
 
 Blr. Sherman was married on the 13th of February, 1798, to Abigail, 
 daughter of Jacob Perkins, of Norwich, Conn. They had nine children, — 
 four sons and five daughters. Mrs. Sherman died December 8, 1860, in 
 the eighty-seventh year of her age, at the house of her son-in-law, Mr. 
 Moore, who keeps the hotel at Trenton Falls, and her remains rest beside 
 those of her husband. 
 
 Besides the two publications of Mr. Sherman already referred to, he 
 brought out, in 1826, a work entitled " Philosophy of Language Illus- 
 trated : An entirely new System of Grammar, &c. ; " and, in 1827, A 
 Description of Trenton Falls, an illustrated edition of which was published 
 in 1851, with additions, by N. P. Willis. 
 
 I heard Mr. Sherman preach two sermons in my early youth, and still 
 retain a distinct impression of his appearance and manner, and of the 
 favourable judgment that was universally passed upon his services by the 
 congregation to whom he preached. I remember that he had great freedom 
 and ease of manner, and spoke with energy and earnestness, and every 
 body said that his sermons were admirable. I believe his Orthodoxy had 
 not then been called in question, — certainly not so far as to prevent the 
 ministers in his neighbourhood from exchanging with him. I well remem- 
 
JOHN SHERMAN. 329 
 
 ber that the controversy which resulted in his dismission from Mansfield 
 excited great interest and considerable agitation throughout the whole 
 region. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ABIEL ABBOT, D. D. 
 
 Peterboro', N. H., 16 September, 1851. 
 
 My dear Sir : My recollections of John Sherman reach back to the summer 
 of 1797. During the time that he was preaching at Mansfield, as a candidate, 
 he was detained over one Sabbath at Coventry by a heavy rain, and was one of 
 my hearers both parts of the day. After the second service he accompanied me 
 home and passed the night. I found him a lively and agreeable companion, but 
 quickly perceived that he was rather high-toned and earnest in his Orthodoxy. 
 I attended his Ordination, shortly after this, as a member of the Council; but, 
 from that time, I had little or no intercourse with him for several years. I 
 subsequently learned that he had received, particularly from one minister in 
 the neighbourhood, impressions strongly unfavorable in respect to my Ortho- 
 doxy ; and this was doubtless the reason why he did not care to have our 
 relations become more intimate. 
 
 As an evidence that he was not chargeable with any lukewarmness as to 
 the matter of Orthodoxy, he drew up a Confession of Faith, of the strictest 
 sort, and required that the church should sign it, previous to his Ordination. 
 His reading, up to this time, as he informed me, had been altogether on the 
 orthodox side, consisting of such authors as Horsley, Jameison, &c. Some- 
 time after his settlement, he procured McKnight's Commentary on the Epis- 
 tles, and was much struck not only with the justness of many of his exposi- 
 tions, but with the general tone of candour by which the work seemed to be 
 pervaded. About this time also he fell in with Dr. "Watts' work on " The 
 Glory of Christ," which contains what is commonly called << the Indwelling 
 scheme;" and, for a while, he accepted that, as what seemed to him a more 
 rational view of that part of Scripture doctrine than any he had met with ; 
 but this did not render him obnoxious to his brethren, as several members of 
 the Association, for a time at least, fully agreed with him. He now met with 
 Priestley's work in opposition to Horsley ; and, on reading it carefully, came 
 to the conclusion that Priestley had got the better of the argument. He came 
 to see me about this time, probably for the same reason that he had stayed 
 away before, — that he considered me less orthodox than any other minister in 
 his neighborhood. He told me frankly of his difficulties and scruples, and 
 mentioned that he had been examining minutely all the texts bearing on the 
 doctrine of the Trinity, and writing out explanations of them, that he might 
 be ready to answer Dr. Dwight, who he expected would ere long call him to 
 an account. 
 
 After this change in his opinions had occurred, he was of course embar- 
 rassed by the orthodox creed which he had imposed upon the church previous 
 to his Ordination ; but this difficulty was removed by a vote of the church 
 that the acceptance of it should not be regarded as essential to Communion. 
 The church, with the exception of one member, made no complaint in respect 
 to him for some time. 
 
 The Association with which Mr. Sherman was connected, having become 
 apprised of his departure from the accredited faith, appointed a Committee to 
 converse with him in order to ascertain the extent of the change which his 
 views had undergone. The conference was held, but resulted in nothing satis- 
 factory. A second Committee was appointed, and the result of the interview 
 was as unsatisfactory as before. The Association now took the matter in 
 hand in serious earnest, and advised to the calling of the Consociation of 
 
330 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Windham County, and appointed the Rev. Messrs. Brockway and Ely, the 
 two senior members of the Body, to take the requisite steps for convening it; 
 and if the people of Mansfield would not consent to their meeting there, (it 
 being understood that they should themselves pay the expense of their sojourn 
 among them,) arrangements should be made for their meeting at Windham. 
 The Committee wrote to the Church at Mansfield, according to instructions, 
 and received for answer that no Consociation existed in Windham County, 
 and, even if there was one, they had no business for any such Body. The 
 Association then met, and, after having had another unsatisfactory conversa- 
 tion with Mr. Sherman, voted that he was no longer a member of their Body, 
 and appointed a committee to apprise the church of their final proceedings in 
 respect to him; at the same time requesting Mr. Sherman to warn a church- 
 meeting for the purpose of their receiving the proposed communication. Sher- 
 man said he would give notice as far as he could conveniently, without calling 
 a regular meeting — that he declined to do — though, after a conversation which 
 I had with him on the subject, he resolved on a different course, and actually 
 complied with the letter of their request. The meeting was well attended, 
 and the letter was accordingly read to them, stating that, if they persevered 
 in their adherence to Mr. Sherman, the Association could no longer recognise 
 them as an Evangelical church. Seven or eight of the members of the church, 
 immediately after this, consulted Mr. Welch, the minister of North Mansfield, 
 as to the proper course to be pursued; and he suggested that they had better 
 send a memorial to the Association, asking their advice; and, upon their con- 
 senting to his proposal, he wrote one. The Association advised to the call- 
 ing of a Council to be composed of members of their own Body, after they had 
 taken the regular steps with their Pastor; but, as Mr. Sherman, about this 
 time, visited Trenton, N. Y., he received an invitation to settle there for a 
 limited time, and determined to accept it. In consequence of this, he asked 
 the Society to grant him a dismission, waiving the provision of the contract 
 that he should give them a three months' notice. The church consented to 
 his proposal, and a Mutual Council was called, consisting of five ministers and 
 as many delegates. The Council dismissed him with the usual recommenda- 
 tion, though taking care to avoid any thing that looked like a direct endorse- 
 ment of his religious opinions. 
 
 I have reason to believe that Mr. Sherman, during the time of his difficul- 
 ties at Mansfield, was an Arian; but, after he went to Trenton, I have no 
 doubt that he became a Humanitarian, and, so far as I know, continued such 
 till the close of life. His book, entitled • < One God in one Person only," does 
 not commit him to any particular view of the subject beyond the Antitrini- 
 tarian view. 
 
 Mr. Sherman was of about the ordinary stature, of a compact and well 
 proportioned frame, and an expressive countenance. His talents were deci- 
 dedly of a superior order — he was quick in his perceptions, ready in his utter- 
 ance, and had the power not only of commanding his thoughts and feelings on 
 any sudden emergency, but of rising under the pressure of an occasion. He 
 sometimes preached extempore, and with great point and pertinence. 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT. 
 
JOHN PIERCE. 331 
 
 JOHN PIERCE, D. D* 
 
 1796 — 1849. 
 
 John Pierce, a son of John and Sarah (Blake) Pierce, was born in 
 Dorchester, Mass., July 14, 1773, being the eldest of ten children. His 
 father, who was a shoemaker, and an intelligent, excellent man, died in 
 December 1 , 1833, at the age of ninety-one. From his earliest years he 
 had a strong desire to go to College and to become a minister, owing, as 
 he used to say, to his having heard much said, in his father's family, of an 
 uncle who died shortly after he began to preach. The same woman, who 
 taught his mother to read, taught him also ; and he remained under her 
 instruction till he began to study Latin in preparation for College. 
 
 He entered Harvard College in 1789, and graduated in 1793, having 
 sustained, during his whole course, an excellent reputation as a scholar. 
 He received, at his graduation, one of the highest honours in his class, — 
 the second English Oration, — the first being assigned to Charles Jackson, 
 afterwards Judge of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts ; and, on taking 
 his second degree, in 1796, he pronounced the Latin Valedictory Oration. 
 The expenses of his whole college course amounted to a little less than three 
 hundred dollars, of which he had credit, as a beneficiary, for upwards of one 
 hundred. 
 
 After leaving College, he was, for two years, Assistant Preceptor of the 
 Academy in Leicester, Mass. In the summer of 1795 he commenced the 
 study of Theology, under the direction of the Kev. Thaddeus Mason 
 Harris, then recently settled in Dorchester. He was examined and 
 approved by the Boston Association, February 22, 1796, and preached, for 
 the first time, in his native town, on the 6th of March following. Towards 
 the close of the year 1796 he accepted a Tutorship in Harvard College, 
 which, however, he retained only about four months. Having preached 
 in several different places, he received a call from the First Church and 
 Society in Brookline, as the successor of the Kev. Joseph Jackson : this 
 call he accepted, and was ordained and installed, March 15, 1797, — the 
 Sermon on the occasion being preached by the Rev. T. M. Harris. 
 
 On the 31st of October, 1798, Mr. Pierce was married to Abigail 
 Lovell, of Medway, who had been one of his pupils at the Leicester 
 Academy. She died on the 2d of July, 1800, leaving an infant son, who 
 died at the age of about two years. He was married, a second time, on the 
 6th of May, 1802, to Lucy, daughter of Benjamin Tappan, of Northamp- 
 ton, and niece of the Rev. Dr. Tappan, at that time Professor of Divinity 
 in Harvard College. They had ten children, all but one of whom, with 
 their mother, survived their father. Mrs. Pierce died February 12, 1858. 
 
 In 1822, the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by 
 Harvard College. 
 
 Doctor Pierce continued sole Pastor of the church over which he was 
 placed, for half a century. The 15th of March, 1847, being the Semi- 
 centennial Anniversary of his Ordination, was observed as a jubilee com- 
 » MS. Autobiography. — Mr. Knapp's Fun. Sarm. 
 
332 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 memorative of that event ; an occasion which drew together large numbers, 
 of various denominations, and which was signalized by many fine speeches 
 and an exuberance of kindly feeling. In October of the same year Mr. 
 Frederick N. Knapp, from the Divinity School at Cambridge, was ordained 
 as his colleague. Dr. Pierce was not, at this time, sensible of any decay 
 of either his physical or intellectual energies ; but though he at first 
 admitted the idea of receiving a colleague, not without some reluctance, 
 yet, when brought to believe that the interests of his parish would be pro- 
 moted by such a measure, he cheerfully acquiesced in it ; and the gentle- 
 man who was chosen by the congregation was, in every respect, the person 
 of his choice. From this period, though relieved in a great measure from 
 the care of his own pulpit, his services were often put in requisition by his 
 brethren in the neighbourhood, and his attendance at all public meetings 
 was as regular and prompt as ever. 
 
 Dr. Pierce had apparently lost none of his vigour until the autumn of 
 1848. Then he attended several College Commencements, in which he was 
 exceedingly interested, contributing, in each case, his full share to the. 
 interest of the occasion. Among them was that of Burlington College, in 
 Vermont ; and, during his absence from home at that time, he presumed 
 too far upon his own ability for physical effort, and, in consequence of 
 excessive exertion, returned with his health somewhat impaired. Nothing 
 serious, however, was apprehended in respect to him, until about the begin- 
 ning of March, 1849, when his physical energies seemed, suddenly, in a 
 great degree, to fail, and he was induced to employ a physician. From 
 that time his decline was gradual but constant. During the spring and 
 the greater part of summer, he was able to ride out, and to enjoy the com- 
 pany of his friends, who thronged to his dwelling almost without number. 
 On the 18th of August, just six days before his death, an organ having 
 been placed in the new church at Brookline, there was quite a gathering to 
 witness the trial of the instrument. The Doctor, being too feeble either 
 to walk or ride, was borne to the church in a chair by some of his young 
 friends, that he might share the pleasure of the occasion. He was able to 
 read passages from the Scriptures, and a hymn, and to join with much 
 of his accustomed animation in singing the latter to his favourite tune, — 
 '■ Old Hundred." When the hymn was sung all the assembly rose, except 
 the Doctor, who remarked, with his usually cheerful air, that he no longer 
 belonged to- the rising generation. After this, his bodily strength failed 
 more rapidly, but his mind retained its accustomed clearness and vig- 
 our. On the evening immediately preceding his death, beside the members 
 of his own family, the Rev. Mr. Shailer of the Baptist Church, and two or 
 three other friends, were in attendance at his bedside. As Mr. Shailer 
 was about to offer a prayer, he asked Dr. Pierce whether there was any 
 particular petition that he wished him to present in his behalf; and his 
 reply was " Entire submission to the Divine will." These were his last 
 words. He lingered till the next forenoon, when, with one brief struggle, 
 he expired. Upon a "post mortem examination, it was ascertained that his 
 disease was a cancerous affection, which had reached the scirrhous stage. 
 
 The Funeral solemnities took place on the afternoon of August 27th, 
 when a Sermon was preached by the Kev. Mr. Knapp, the surviving Pastor 
 
JOHN PIERCE. 333 
 
 of the church. It was published, in connection with a biographical notice, 
 which had previously appeared in the " Christian Inquirer." 
 
 Dr. Pierce was identified with many of the philanthropic and useful 
 enterprises of his day. He was, for fifty-two years, a member of the 
 Massachusetts Convention of Congregational Ministers, and for ten years 
 its Scribe. For thirty years he belonged to the Massachusetts Congrega- 
 tional Society. For thirty-three years he was Secretary to the Board of 
 Overseers of Harvard College. He was, for several years, President of 
 the Massachusetts Bible Society. To the interests of the Massachusetts 
 Historical Society he was enthusiastically devoted, and bequeathed to it a 
 series of manuscript volumes, reaching back almost to the beginning of the 
 century, in which he recorded all the principal facts that came within his 
 observation. These volumes he calls "Memoirs;" and they contain a 
 vast amount of information, especially concerning distinguished individuals, 
 that must otherwise have perished. Besides these, he gave to the Histor- 
 ical Society what approaches more nearly to a complete set of the 
 Massachusetts Election Sermons than is elsewhere to be found. He was a 
 zealous friend of the Temperance cause, and endeavoured, by both precept 
 and example, in public and in private, to help it forward to the extent of his 
 ability. He delivered the Artillery Election Sermon in 1813 ; the Dud- 
 leian Lecture at Harvard College in 1821 ; the Sermon before the Massa- 
 chusetts Convention of Congregational Ministers in 1825 ; and the Annual 
 Sermon before the Legislature of Massachusetts in 1849. 
 
 Dr. Pierce enjoyed, almost uniformly, through life, remarkable health, 
 as was evidenced by the fact that, during his long ministry, he was kept 
 from his pulpit only thirteen Sabbaths. In the spring of 1805 he was 
 confined by a rheumatic fever for several weeks ; and it was a somewhat 
 singular coincidence that his friend, the celebrated Joseph Stevens Buck- 
 minster, was ill at the time, both returned to their pulpits the same day, 
 and both preached from the same text, — Psalm cxix, 71. He was habit- 
 ually an early riser ; and he occupied himself, in the summer, for an hour 
 or two before breakfast, in his garden, and in the winter, for about the 
 same length of time, in sawing and splitting wood. He was accustomed to 
 walk long distances, and not unfrequently made his exchanges, six or seven 
 miles distant, on foot, going and returning, and preaching, all the same 
 day. He was frugal in his style of living, and yet always liberal and 
 hospitable; and, though his salary was originally small, and was never 
 large, he not only contrived to keep out of debt but to acquire considera- 
 ble property. It was evident, however, that he did not covet a large 
 estate ; and when, in one instance, by an unfortunate investment, he was 
 well-nigh reduced to bankruptcy, his wonted cheerfulness never forsook 
 him for an hour, and even his nearest friends did not suspect, from his 
 appearance, that any thing adverse had occurred. He was passionately 
 fond of music ; and, on various public occasions, such as the Thursday 
 Lecture, the Commencement Dinner at Cambridge, and the Annual Con- 
 vention of Ministers, his fine, mellow voice was sure to be heard. During 
 his last illness scarcely any thing gratified him more than the weekly 
 visits to the parsonage, on Saturday evenings, of the choir of his church, 
 whom he used to call his "sweet Psalmists of Israel." 
 
334 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Dr. Pierce was a most devoted friend to Harvard College. He has been 
 heard to say that, when he was a school-boy, he used sometimes to take 
 Cambridge on his way from Boston to Dorchester, thus nearly tripling the 
 distance, for the sake of looking at the college buildings. And this was 
 but the earnest of the more intelligent and cordial attachment which he 
 was destined to feel for the College in after life. He attended sixty-three 
 successive Commencements, with the exception of one, which occurred on 
 the day of the Funeral of his mother ; and, for fifty-four successive years, 
 he " set the tune " of St. Martin's to the hymn sung at the Commence, 
 ment Dinner. He kept the Records of the Board of Overseers with the 
 most perfect neatness and accuracy, and was a model of punctuality and 
 fidelity in the discharge of all his official duties. 
 
 As a matter-of-fact man, it may be doubted whether Dr. Pierce had any 
 equal among his contemporaries. There was scarcely any body's father or 
 grandfather, of the least notoriety, of whose history he could not tell some- 
 thing, including particularly the dates of his birth, graduation, (if graduated,) 
 and death. The whole Cambridge Catalogue he seemed to carry in his 
 mind; and he could tell instantly who was the Valedictory Orator, and 
 what was his subject, in every class that had graduated since he began to 
 attend Commencement. It would be difficult to make any representation 
 of his knowledge in this department, which would not be justified by the 
 " Memoirs," and other kindred manuscript productions, which he has left 
 behind him. When, on a certain occasion, it was very desirable to ascer- 
 tain the date of the birth of an individual, and Dr. Pierce was appealed to 
 as a last resort, and appealed to in vain, Judge Davis shrewdly remarked, — 
 " There is no use in making any further inquiries, for if the Doctor does 
 not know when the man was born, he was not born at all." 
 
 Of Dr. Pierce's peculiar theological views it may be considered a matter 
 of some delicacy to speak, as he always disavowed any other name than 
 that of Christian. It cannot, however, be unjust to his memory to allow 
 him to speak for himself, in the following "Confession of Faith," which is 
 found in his Autobiography, especially as he gave me his written consent 
 that I should make any use of it, in framing a notice of him, that I might 
 think proper. It was written in an early period of his ministry, but was 
 transcribed by him, as I understand, as late as the year 1830. 
 
 " I. I believe the existence, attributes, and perfections of a Supreme, 
 Eternal Being, who created, supports and governs all things. 
 
 " II. I believe that, by his providence, this infinite Jehovah overrules all 
 events in such a manner that nothing is permitted to overthrow his wise designs. 
 
 " III. I believe that the Supreme Being, in compassion to the weak- 
 ness, ignorance and fallibility of men, was pleased, at sundry times and 
 in divers manners, to speak unto the fathers by the prophets, and hath in 
 these last days, spoken to us by his Son. 
 
 " IV. I believe that the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament 
 were given by inspiration of God ; that, of consequence, there is no neces- 
 sity of erasing or supplying any chapters or verses to render them a com- 
 plete and infallible rule of faith and of practice ; that, although some of 
 their doctrines are above human comprehension, they do not contradict it ; 
 and though they are incomprehensible, they are not absurd. 
 
JOHN PIERCE. 
 
 335 
 
 " V. I believe that, ever since the apostaoy of man, the Deity has been 
 graciously pleased to reveal intentions of mercy to the human race ; that 
 many rites and ceremonies of the Jewish law were typical of the Mes- 
 siah ; that the prophets clearly predicted the circumstances of his life and 
 death ; that, when the fulness of time was come, when all previous pre- 
 dictions of Him were verified, He was born in a miraculous manner, and, by 
 an incomprehensible union, became God manifest in the flesh. 
 
 " VI. I believe He is the propitiation for our sins, and that the neces- 
 sity of such an atoning sacrifice is founded in the depravity of man. 
 
 " VII. I believe Christ has made offers of pardon, grace and accep- 
 tance to all who apply to Him by faith ; and that, although the Deity hath 
 chosen believers in Christ before the foundation of the world, that they 
 should be holy and without blame before Him in love, yet none will be 
 finally rejected but through their own fault. 
 
 " VIII. I believe the necessity of spiritual influences in order to holi- 
 ness ; that all true believers are born of the Spirit, and have access by 
 one Spirit to the Father. 
 
 " IX. I believe what the Scriptures have revealed concerning the dis- 
 tinct offices and attributes of Father, Son, and Spirit. I, however, find 
 in this, as in other doctrines of the Bible, things hard to be understood. 
 Yet these, as there are mysteries equally great and incomprehensible in 
 nature, appear to confirm the truth, instead of exposing the fallacy, of the 
 Scriptures. 
 
 "Thus I have exhibited as concisely as possible the sum of what I es- 
 teem the most essential truths in religion. I acknowledge I have great oc- 
 casion to pray ' Lord increase my faith.' It is my earnest wish, fervent 
 prayer, and shall be my constant endeavour, that, by the blessing of God, 
 I may improve my acquaintance with the Sacred Oracles, and become a 
 successful preacher and defender of the religion of Jesus." 
 
 I have no evidence that Dr. Pierce ever expressed any opinions, either 
 in or out of the pulpit, which he did not consider as consistent with the 
 above creed ; nevertheless, as his relations and intercourse were chiefly with 
 the Unitarian denomination, and as he never, so far as is" known, by any 
 act, manifested a disposition to place himself in other relations, it is rea- 
 sonable to infer that he considered himself as falling on that side of the 
 line that divides the Congregational Church ; though he probably came 
 nearer to the orthodox faith than the great mass of the clergymen with 
 whom lie associated. He is known to have said more than once, and even 
 on public occasions, that he would not allow himself to be called a Uni- 
 tarian ; but this, as he afterwards explained it, was a strong expression of 
 his disapprobation of a party name. He was remarkable for his use of 
 Scripture language, and sometimes introduced more of it into a sermon 
 than is consistent with modern taste. That he possessed a truly liberal 
 spirit none who knew him can doubt; for he not only manifested great 
 friendship towards men of orthodox views, but was always glad to intro- 
 duce them into his pulpit when he had opportunity. 
 
 My own acquaintance with Dr. Pierce having been somewhat extended 
 and intimate, I may be allowed to refer to a few incidents connected with 
 it, as illustrating some of the traits of his character. I saw him, for the 
 
336 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 first time, at the Ordination of Mr. (afterwards Dr.) B. B. Wisner, at 
 the Old South Church, Boston. He was kind enough to seek an introduc- 
 tion to me, on account of his great reverence for my venerable and then 
 lately deceased colleague, the Bev. Dr. Lathrop, of West Springfield. I 
 was immediately struck with his commanding person, his face perfectly il- 
 luminated with good-will, 'and his fine social qualities, which made me at 
 once lose the feeling that I was a stranger to him. He poured out upon 
 nie, in this first interview, a flood of minute details about persons and 
 things, that filled me with astonishment; and that astonishment was, to say 
 the least, never lessened, at any subsequent meeting that I ever had with 
 him. In 1825 I heard him preach the Convention Sermon, — the only 
 sermon I ever heard from him. It was on the Trials of ministers, and kept 
 very remote from all points of controversy. It was a plain, straightfor- 
 ward discourse, — the thoughts logically arranged and perspicuously ex- 
 pressed, — and contained many sentiments by which any minister of the 
 Gospel might profit. His appearance in the pulpit was remarkably good, 
 his voice admirable, his manner not lacking in animation, according to the 
 standard of that day, but the general effect of his speaking considerably 
 impaired by a perfect uniformity of cadence. I think it was about that 
 time he told me that he had taken to extemporizing in some of his more 
 private services, and that he found that when he was in circumstances in 
 which he could feel entirely unembarrassed, he could speak more effectively 
 in that way than with mature preparation. I remember his mentioning, 
 as an instance, his preaching a short time before to the tenants of the 
 State's Prison, at Charlestown. 
 
 I had several opportunities of observing Dr. Pierce's great generosity, 
 and one which I cannot forbear to record. After I left Massachusetts and 
 came to live in Albany, though I occasionally exchanged a letter with him, 
 I scarcely met him at all for a number of years. In the summer of 1840, 
 at the close of an afternoon service on the Sabbath, as I came down from 
 the pulpit, I saw a person waiting for me, whose face seemed to be familiar, 
 and, though I did not at first recognize him, I quickly perceived that it was 
 Dr. Pierce. My first inquiries, after shaking hands with him, were, — 
 " When did you come, and where have you been ?" " Why," said he, " I 
 came into the city yesterday, and this morning I have been talking to a mis- 
 sion school in the outskirts of the city ; for, though they did not know me, 
 they took me up at random, and set me to talking ; and this afternoon, I 
 have been hearing you preach." " But why did you not come to see me be- 
 fore ?" said I. " Well, I will tell you frankly," answered he — " I did not 
 suppose that you looked upon me as very heterodox, and I was not sure but 
 that you had confidence enough in my Ortnodoxy to ask me to preach for 
 you — I knew, at any rate, that your friendship would predispose you to go 
 as far in that direction as your conscience would warrant ; but I did not 
 wish to place you in any embarrassing situation — any situation in which 
 your friendly feelings should be on one side, and your conscience or even 
 judgment on the other ; and, therefore, I chose not to report myself to 
 you till the services of the Sabbath were over. If you had actually invited 
 me to preach, I should have told you that, under existing circumstances, I 
 had better not; but no objection surely exists to your preaching for me — 
 
JOHN PIERCE. 337 
 
 you are at liberty to preach the Gospel any where ; and I should he hear- 
 tily glad if you would occupy my pulpit the next time you come to Boston." 
 
 I recollect a case or two, illustrating his remarkable knowledge of 
 minute facts. He happened to be at my house immediately after I had 
 received a letter from Dr. Chalmers ; and, while he was looking with won- 
 der at the almost illegible hand in which it was written, he said with an 
 air of no small confidence, — " Dr. Chalmers is just eighteen days older 
 than Dr. Clianning." Said I, " Doctor, I am quite sure that I have caught 
 you once : Dr. Chalmers, I am confident, is several years older than Dr. Chan- 
 ning, and I think I can prove it to you here on the spot, from some memo- 
 randa that I made after a conversation with him in respect to his age." In 
 this, however, I was disappointed, but still felt quite sure that my impres- 
 sion was correct, while the Doctor was equally confident that I was in the 
 wrong. It was agreed that the next time I wrote to Dr. Chalmers, I should 
 refer the question to his decision. I did so ; and, in a few weeks, the 
 answer came back, — "Dr. Pierce is right — I was born on the 17th of 
 March, 1780." 
 
 Happening to be in Boston, I think in the autumn of 1847, I rode out 
 to Brookline to call upon Dr. Pierce, and the moment after we had met, 
 he said to me, with no little apparent earnestness,—" Have you thought 
 of any important event to-day?" I said that I had not thought of any 
 event more important than my coming out to visit my friend, Dr. Pierce. 
 " There is a far more important event connected with the day than that," 
 said he — " think a little, and see if it does not occur to you." After a few 
 moments, I said, — " Why this is my birth day !" " To be sure, it is your 
 birth day," said he, " and you had not thought of it until I reminded 
 you." 
 
 In the winter of 1848-49, knowing that Dr. Pierce had some time 
 before delivered, in two or three places, a Eulogy on John Quincy Adams, 
 I procured an invitation to him from the Young Men's Association in 
 Albany, to repeat it, as one of their winter course of Lectures. He very 
 modestly consented to the request ; but, on the day that he was to leave 
 home for Albany, he was summoned as a witness in an important case at 
 Court, which prevented his coming. Another day was then appointed, but 
 on that day he was taken ill, and it proved the commencement of the 
 illness that carried him to his grave. To show me how honestly he 
 intended to come, he subsequently sent me a revised manuscript copy of 
 his Eulogy, in his own fine, fair hand, which I have carefully preserved as 
 a testimony of his good-will, and as a remarkable illustration of his matter- 
 of-fact character. 
 
 My last interview with Dr. Pierce was in May, 1849, after his disease 
 had so far fastened upon him as to leave no doubt of its fatal termination. 
 I found him where I had always found him, — in his study ; but he was 
 sitting in his easy chair, and breathing with considerable difficulty. He 
 was, however, perfectly cheerful, and spoke with deep emotion of the many 
 blessings by which his decline was marked. He lent me, for a few days, 
 several volumes of his Memoirs, that I might avail myself of some of the 
 facts contained in them, though he had previously made very important 
 contributions to the work in which I was engaged. I received a letter 
 
 Vol. VIII. 22 
 
338 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 from him, written three days before his death, — the last, I understood, 
 which he ever wrote, — breathing the most fervent good-will. I always 
 found him a generous, excellent friend, and all must admit that he was, 
 in some respects, a most remarkable man. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Pierce's publications: — 
 On the Mystery of Godliness : A Discourse delivered at Medfield, 1797. 
 A Eulogy on Washington, 1800. A Sermon preached at Newbury, at the 
 Installation of the Eev. John Snelling Popkin, 1804. A Discourse deliv- 
 ered at Brookline, on the day that completed a Century from the Incor- 
 poration of the Town, 1805. A Valedictory Sermon preached on Leaving 
 the Old Meeting House at Brookline, and a Dedicatory Sermon on 
 Entering the New House of Worship, 1806. A Sermon preached at the 
 Gathering of the Second Congregational Church in Dorchester, 1808. A 
 Discourse delivered at the Installation of the Rev. Samuel Clark, at 
 Princeton, 1817. A Discourse delivered on the Lord's day after the com- 
 pletion of a Century from the Organization of the Church in Brookline, 
 1817. The Dudleian Lecture, delivered before Harvard College, 1821. 
 A Discourse delivered at Canton at the Ordination of the Rev. Benjamin 
 Huntoon, 1822. The Charge delivered to the Rev. T. B. Fox, at New- 
 buryport, 1831. A Sermon in the " Liberal Preacher " on the Maternal 
 Relation, 1835. A Sermon entitled " Reniiniseences of Forty Years," 
 1837. An Address delivered at the Funeral of the Hon. Thomas A. Davis, 
 1845. A Sermon preached at the Brookline Jubilee, 1847. A Sermon 
 entitled " Christians the only proper name for the Disciples of Christ." 
 A Sermon delivered before the Legislature of Massachusetts at the Auuual 
 Election, 1849. 
 
 FROM THE REV. GEORGE PUTNAM, D. D. 
 
 Roxbtjey, September 17, 1850. 
 
 My dear Sir: I am happy to comply with your request for some notice of 
 our late friend Dr. Pierce. But instead of any thing fresh, you must take 
 what was written by me just after his decease, with only such alterations as 
 may make my remarks more suitable to the purposes of jo\ir intended work. 
 
 Any person attending the Funeral of Dr. Pierce must have seen that he was 
 & man of mark whom they were burying. There was a great concourse of 
 people thronging with reverent and tender emotions around his coffin, and 
 •among them many men of eminent character and station. It was evident from 
 many signs that those were not the obsequies of an ordinary man, or a mere 
 official man. And those signs were not fallacious. He was a distinguished 
 man. When his death was announced, it was every where taken much note 
 of by the press, and in conversation spoken of with a feeling of interest, I 
 found, by all sorts of persons in the neighbourhood, and far in the country. 
 I suppose that there was hardly a man in Massachusetts whose person was 
 known to so many individuals in the State. It is seldom that so many and 
 hearty expressions of affectionate respect, from so many quarters, follow an 
 old man to his grave. 
 
 And how came he to be thus distinguished ? It may seem a question of 
 some difficult} 1 -, but I will try to answer it. 
 
 Born in Dorchester, he just moved over to that pleasant parsonage, — only 
 going round by Cambridge for purposes of education; and there he dwelt for 
 more than fifty years; and there he died. During that period I doubt if he 
 
JOHN PIERCE. 339 
 
 has ever been accused of neglecting a duty, or forgetting an appointment, or 
 committing a mean, unjust or immoral action, or speaking a false, or irreverent, 
 or unkind or insincere word. 
 
 But it would be unfair to describe him only by negatives. His was a posi- 
 tive character, and had great positive traits of excellence. He appears to 
 have obeyed and carried out the two parts of the great commandment, to love 
 God and love man, with unusual earnestness and thoroughness. 
 
 His theological opinions, as to disputed points, were not, T suppose, very 
 clearly defined in his own mind. As far as possible, he avoided taking sides 
 in the great controversy between the Liberal and Orthodox parties, disclaim- 
 ing all party names and relations to the last. His views of Theology, I am 
 inclined to think, never underwent any material change from his early youth 
 to the day of his death, — none, that is, which he was distinctly conscious of. 
 If he was carried along at all by the progress of opinion around him, he was 
 hardly aware of any change of position in himself. His mind was not of a 
 character to discriminate sharply between shades of doctrinal differences, 
 and being himself where he always was, he could see no more reason for a 
 division of the Congregational Body in 1815 than in 1790. He was strictly 
 conservative in Theology. He entertained none of the speculations of the time, 
 accepted no novelties, would give no hearing to those who promised to show 
 a better way of truth than that which he had long walked in. He thought 
 that the important truths of Christianity were as plain to the spiritual un- 
 derstanding as they were ever likely to be made by human learning, and he 
 did not want any young man to give him his spiritual intuitions as substitutes 
 for the old texts about righteousness and love, grace and peace, joy in the 
 Holy Ghost, and the resurrection of the just to eternal life. His faith grew 
 up with him, and grew old with him, and it seems never to have suffered any 
 distractions or perplexities. 
 
 But the most striking part of Dr. Pierce's character lay in his benevolence. 
 He had the kindliest of natures. His heart seemed a fountain of loving kind- 
 ness, always gushing up and running over. Time and experience of the 
 world's coldness never checked its stream or dried up a drop of it. What a 
 cordial greeting was his! What a beaming friendliness on his face! I never 
 knew the person who took so hearty an interest in so many people, and 
 showed it by such unequivocal signs. He seemed to know almost every body 
 and all about him. And it was not an idle prurient curiosity — if it had been, 
 it would have run into scandal, as it usually does in those who make it a 
 business to know and report every body's affairs. lie had no scandal. His 
 love saved him from that. He said pleasant and kind things. There was no 
 venom under his tongue, no acid in his breast. He probably never made an 
 enemy nor lost a friend. His affections were warm, his sympathies were 
 quick. He was generous according to his means. He loved young men. For 
 more than fifty years, without interruption, I have been told, he travelled to 
 Cambridge several times a year to attend the public exercises, and listened to 
 every student with fond eagerness, as to a son of his own, and forever after 
 remembered him, and in most cases knew all about him. 
 
 Age did not blunt these kind feelings, or quench one ray of their youthful 
 vigour. Here he was remarkable. Age did not tend in the least to make him 
 shrink into himself, or to narrow the circle of his sympathies. After seventy, 
 lie would start off with the ardour of a school-boy, and walk miles just to 
 see an old friend, and would live for months after on the pleasure of the inter- 
 view. And he not only loved other people but he loved to be loved. He 
 seemed to value nothing in this world so much as kind attention, affection, 
 good fellowship. 
 He was welcomed in all the pulpits to which he had access, not so much on 
 
340 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 account of his preaching as on his own account. People liked to see him and 
 hear his voice, especially in singing, because his soul was in it. They liked to 
 see him, he seemed such a personal friend. His bare presence was as accepta- 
 ble to many, and perhaps as profitable, as the sermons of some much greater 
 men, — he was so sincere, so hearty, so kind. A word from him, with his 
 great, cordial, friendly voice, at the church door, or in the aisle, would, for 
 multitudes, make ample amends for any dryness in the regular discourse. 
 
 It is very singular that such warm affections towards both God and man 
 did not impart their unction to his intellect, and give a character of rich and 
 glowing sentiment to his composition; but I believe they did not. They did 
 lend animation and force to his delivery, but never gave their fire to his com- 
 position. He was not eloquent, or poetical, or affecting in his writing. Some- 
 how there was a connecting link missing between his heart and his intellect. 
 With feelings fresh and warm, and pure enough to have made him a poet, an 
 orator, and a splendid writer, he was not a bit of either. It was a singular 
 instance of disconnection between the two parts of the mind. His great fer- 
 ,vent heart is not in his writings- But no matter, — he had it, and every body 
 knew he had it, and felt the influence of it, was warmed by its radiance and 
 gladdened by its benignity. 
 
 Any view of Dr. Pierce would be incomplete that should not include some 
 reference to his last days. Providence greatly favoured him in his last sick- 
 ness. His faculties were not impaired, and he was without pain. He was 
 able till the last to sit up in his study and receive his friends. And how they 
 poured in upon him ! and how glad he was to see them ! — overwhelmed, he 
 said, with joy at their kindness. It was so congenial to him that it seemed 
 not to weary him. And he was so cheerful, so happy, — nothing but happi- 
 ness, he said, in his past life or present decay; happy when he laid his 
 hands on the children that came to him; happy in taking from kind hands the 
 tokens of thoughtful regard that were brought to him; happy in greeting the 
 troops of brethren and parishioners; happy in the grasp that he knew would 
 be the last of a life-long friend, and happy in the tears of affection he shed on 
 the neck of a foreigner,* whom he never saw before, but loved tenderly as the 
 apostle of temperance and the benefactor of his race; happy too in pointing to 
 the green spot before his house, where he said he should soon be laid; and 
 happiest of all in the prospect of the life that was about to dawn on him. His 
 faith was firm, his trust unfaltering. He not only submitted to God's will, — 
 he loved it and made it his own. He loved God and man, earth and Heaven, 
 more than ever. And one could hardly tell with which hand his heart went 
 out with most energy and warmth, — that which grasped the dear ties of 
 domestic and friendly love on earth, or that which pointed in joyous and tri- 
 umphant assurance to the opening mansions of the blest. 
 
 If these remarks upon the character of our friend are acceptable, they are 
 entirely at your service. 
 
 With great regard I remain 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 GEORGE PUTNAM. 
 
 FROM THE REV. DANIEL WALDO. 
 
 Syracuse, September 12, 1862. 
 
 My dear Friend: My recollections of Dr. Pierce all come within the year 
 
 1810-11, which I spent in supplying the pulpit at Cambridgeport. He was then 
 
 in the full vigour of manhood, — probably a little less than forty years old. 
 
 I became quite intimate with him, — more so I think than with any other cler- 
 
 ♦ Father Matthew. 
 
JOHN PIERCE. 341 
 
 gyman in that neighborhood, unless it was Dr. Holmes. I remember once taking- 
 his place, by his request, in the Thursday Lecture. I found it at once easy, 
 pleasant and profitable to be acquainted with him. 
 
 Dr. Pierce was a man of very superior social qualities. He was frank, 
 generous and confiding. It was well understood that his sympathies were 
 chiefly with the Liberal party, but I never heard from him an unkind expres- 
 sion towards the Orthodox, or, so far as I remember, towards any individual 
 belonging to that party. And my impression then was, and still is, that he 
 approached nearer to the orthodox standard of doctrine than almost any other 
 man who was called Unitarian. I used to attend the meetings of the Boston 
 Association, and he was always there as a matter of course. Those meetings, so 
 far as I witnessed them, seemed to be meetings for good cheer as much as any 
 thing else ; good eating and drinking being not the least important of the ex- 
 ercises. Dr. Pierce's fine social qualities came out here to great advantage. 
 He seemed to like every-body, and every-body liked him. He made it all 
 bright sunshine wherever he went. I doubt whether he ever conversed ten 
 minutes with a person whom he did not leave with a deep impression of his 
 ' kindly spirit. 
 
 I heard him preach, I think repeatedly, at the Thursday lecture. His ser- 
 mons, without being very strongly marked, were serious and sensible, and 
 of a pretty decided evangelical character. He had a strong, clear voice, but, if 
 my memory serves me, there was no great variety in his intonations. I think 
 he had very little gesture ; but it was not the fashion then, as it is now, to 
 throw about the hands as if one were fighting bumble-bees. 
 
 Dr. Pierce, as every-body knew, dealt exclusively in facts and cared little 
 for any thing else. He made the ages of his friends, and especially of dis- 
 tinguished men who had been graduated at Harvard College, a study. I think 
 very few persons have known him, who have not some anecdote to relate con- 
 cerning him, showing this wonderful peculiarity. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 D. WALDO. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN FORSYTH, D. D. 
 
 TC ewbcegh, March 25, 1863. 
 
 Rev. and dear Friend : My recollections of the late Dr. Pierce of Brook- 
 line, which you have asked me to send you, are too few and insignificant to 
 be of value. On my own account, I sincerely regret that it is so. I now feel 
 a real sorrow that I did not avail myself of the privilege which I might have 
 enjoyed, of visiting him at his own pleasant home, and of sharing the hos- 
 pitality he was so ready to extend to all men, but especially to those of the 
 household of faith. That he belonged to that household himself I could not 
 doubt, after I came to know him personally. 
 
 The first time I met him was at a Commencement of Harvard College, which 
 I attended in company with one of my colleagues, as a sort of delegate from 
 the College of New Jersey. We were both struck with the heartiness with 
 which he entered into and enjoyed the exercises of that academic festival, and 
 with the consideration yielded to him, by common consent, though the Doc- 
 tor himself seemed to be one of the most unassuming of men. 
 
 Subsequently, I was brought into close contact with him at some of the 
 meetings of the American Board. I well remember the feeling of surprise 
 
 which I experienced — on the ground of his denominational relation when I 
 
 discovered that he was there, not as a casual spectator, but (if I mistake not) 
 as an honorary member, certainly as one who took a lively interest in the 
 purposes and proceedings of the assembly. I had no opportunity of comparing 
 
342 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 our opinions on doctrinal points, but I could not help drawing my own con- 
 ulusion as to his views, not only from the fact of his attending the meetings 
 of the Board, but also from the kind of exercises in which he appeared to 
 have special delight, and at which he was invariably present. No one who 
 looked upon his fine, open, venerable countenance, bearing as it did the visi- 
 ible stamp of guilelessness and goodness, could fail to say to himself, < There 
 is a man whose heart, I am pretty sure, is in full sympathy with the cause of 
 missions;' and this opinion must have been converted into absolute certainty, 
 if the observer had caught sight of Dr. P. during the devotional and other re- 
 ligious exercises of the meeting. But it is needless for me to give you iny im- 
 perfect impressions of him, when there are so many who knew him long and 
 intimately, upon whose recollections you will be at liberty to draw as largely 
 as you please. 
 
 Believe me very affectionately yours, 
 
 JOHN FORSYTH. 
 
 FROM THE KEV. FREDERICK H. HEDGE, D. D. 
 
 Beookline, January 27, 1863. 
 
 My dear Sir: My recollections of Dr. Pierce, about which you question me, 
 date from the years of my college life. 
 
 As Secretary of the Board of Overseers of Harvard University, ever pro- 
 foundly interested in all the affairs of that institution, he was often at Cam- 
 bridge, and always, at Commencements and all college festivals, appeared 
 conspicuous among the dignitaries present on those occasions. 
 
 He seemed to me, at first, though but entering on the fifties (as I now 
 reckon) the impersonation of venerable age, — an impression due to his snow- 
 white hair which had turned at thirty. Subsequent and nearer observation 
 discovered a fresh though pale complexion, an unwitheredlook, an elastic car- 
 riage, and altogether such an absence of all decrepitude as greatly modified the 
 hasty estimate of his senility. 
 
 << What a pleasant looking old man," we youngsters said, accustomed to 
 read in men of that age a judgment on our own immaturity. " The atrocious 
 crime " found pardon, and not only pardon but connivance, nay, approval, in 
 those friendly eyes lit up by a heart which could reach its sympathies into 
 our green years. 
 
 His countenance was one of those which are always in full light, and admit 
 no shadow, and contract no frown. The word pleasant but faintly expresses its 
 radiant, kindly cheer. A face where no deep sorrow and no strong passions 
 had set their seal. No jollity, or fun, or even humour, was legible there; the 
 light on those features was simply the pure joy of life, a delight in being such 
 as is possible only to holy and believing minds. The world of his experience 
 reflected the sunshine of his own peace and was full of blessing. He heartily 
 rejoiced in all good gifts with devout gratitude to God for all. He had great 
 pleasure in << times and seasons," in College and State Holidays with all their 
 belongings, in Election and Convention Sermons, Dudleian Lectures, Thursday 
 Lectures, Ordinations and Dedications, all of which he failed not to attend. 
 Above all, an incredible and insatiable pleasure he had in facts, especially sta- 
 tistical facts relating to the College and the ministry. These he hugged, and 
 treasured, and chuckled over, as a miser over his gold; but, with very unmi- 
 serly communicativeness, loved to share with all his friends, and was ready 
 to bestow even on the indifferent and unthankful. 
 
 His looks betokened the entire presence of the man in every place and corn- 
 pan)' in which you saw him. There was no introversion, no pre-occupation, 
 no wandering but the outward wandering of the eye for a few moments at 
 
JOHN PIERCE. 343 
 
 public meetings, when he set himself to count or compute the numbers present, 
 and to register and classify such as were known to him, — so many ministers; 
 so many older, so many younger than himself, so many before, so many after 
 him on the College Catalogue. Then there were occasional glances, not of 
 impatience but of curiosity, at the old-fashioned silver watch which he never 
 forgot to set by the clock of the old South Church every Thursday when he 
 went into town to assist at the Weekly Lecture in Chauncy Street. With this 
 he timed all public speech, and kept the log of sermons and prayers. 
 
 Soon after my graduation I came into family relations with Dr. Pierce, and 
 was often a guest at his house, where I had abundant opportunity of studying 
 his character as it manifested itself in private life. There, too, the joy fulness 
 which beamed from him in public was a prominent trait. A happier man I 
 never knew, nor certainly one who had a better right to be happy, so far as 
 moral qualities avail to secure that state. The absence of all worldliness, 
 of all solicitude about the future, (notwithstanding his large family and small 
 means,) of all rivalry and ambition, of all pride of appearance, of all self-seek- 
 ing, — his entire humility, his perfect trust in Divine Providence for that which 
 is least as well as for the greatest, his ready acquiescence in the Divine will,— 
 all this resulted in a, calm of soul not often witnessed in otherwise good and 
 religious men. 
 
 Something, no doubt, of this uniform cheerfulness is to be ascribed to vigor- 
 ous health. But health has also its moral side, and if, in his case, it was 
 partly due to a naturall}' sound constitution, it was also fairly earned by tem- 
 perance and by bodily exercise, of which it cannot be said that in this mat- 
 ter it "proflteth nothing." This last he carried to what seemed to me a 
 needless excess. At three o'clock, A. M., in summer, he was in his garden, 
 where he did a day's work before breakfast. In the winter, long before light, 
 the strokes of his axe resounded from the wood-shed, where all the fire-wood 
 was prepared by him for family use. In his visits to the city and to Cam- 
 bridge, and in his exchanges with neighbouring ministers, he oftener walked 
 than rode. By this means, he kept his athletic frame — full six feet in height 
 and proportionally broad — at the uttermost mark of manly vigour. Though 
 not what is called << a heavy feeder," he brought to his meals the keen relish of 
 perfect health. The food was always of the simplest, but he insisted that he 
 had dined royally, and doubted if her Majesty, the Queen of England, fared so 
 well. 
 
 Intellectually, it always seemed to me that he never did full justice to his 
 powers. His preaching, though acceptable, and marked by accuracy of state- 
 ment and a diction severely correct, wanted the force which might have been 
 expected from a nature so large and capable. An excessive caution and cer- 
 tain homiletic traditions derived from the standards of his youth, — the dryest 
 period in the history of the American pulpit, — seemed to hamper the action 
 of his mind in that function. He never poured himself freely forth in his dis- 
 courses, but found a speedy limit to his thought in some inward or outward 
 restraint, — some self-distrust or critical bugbear that ruled him. Whatever 
 success he had as a preacher was due to the reverend and loved person rather 
 than his thought or illustration. The best thing he did in the pulpit was his 
 singing. Into that he put his whole heart; it was eminently effective. Those 
 whom the sermon had left cold could not fail to be moved by the fervour and 
 unction of his psalmody. 
 
 He could hardly be called, in the years in which I knew him, a student, 
 although a good theological and miscellaneous scholar after the standard of 
 his own time. He read no Greek but the New Testament, — but in that he 
 was thoroughly at home, reading it as fluently as the English version, and 
 using it always in the family devotions. I am not aware of having derived 
 
344 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 intellectual stimulus from his conversation, although so largely indebted to 
 him for wise counsel and the precious lessons of his life. Our intellectual ten- 
 dencies were widely dissimilar. I was apt to assume an ideal position, he 
 planted himself firmly upon facts. 
 
 " Facts," he would say triumphantly, after battering me with his statistics, 
 "are stubborn things," — a characterization which did not much recommend 
 them in my estimation. He judged all questions statistically, numerically, 
 reasoning in numbers, " for the numbers came." He even went so far as to 
 reckon up the texts in the New Testament which seemed to favour the Trini- 
 tarian doctrine on the one hand, and those which tallied with the Unitarian 
 view on the other. He made out a tie between them, and therewith justified 
 his position of uncompromising neutrality between the two parties, — a posi- 
 tion resulting from his natural conservatism. His Theology retained to the 
 last the moderate Arian-Arminian type, which had been the prevailing 
 doctrine of this vicinity at the time of his entrance on the ministry. He 
 steadfastly refused to take the name of Unitarian, though forced in his latter 
 years by Orthodox exclusiveness to associate chiefly with the clergy of that 
 communion. Nor was he more ready to embrace the Connecticut doctrine, 
 when, in 1826 and '27, Dr. Lyman Beecher and his associates attempted to 
 reform the Theology of Boston. Rationalism on the one hand, and Calvinism 
 on the other, were equally distasteful to him. He regarded both as attempts 
 to be " wise above what was written," — a species of presumption against 
 which he seriously cautioned his young friends. 
 
 Whatever sectaries might think of his Theology, bigotry itself would not 
 deny to him the Christian name, nor venture to impugn his Christian worth. 
 Those who came nearest to him best know with what harmony and complete- 
 ness the Christian graces combined in his person. Faith, Hope, Charity, 
 Humility, Patience, Godliness, — -it was impossible to say which of these 
 traits was most conspicuous in a life which exhibited them all. What 
 impressed me as much as any thing in his character was its unworldliness. 
 It happened to him, in advanced years, to lose his entire property, the sav- 
 ings of his whole professional life, by a bad investment. This misfortune 
 elicited no complaint, it never for an instant disturbed his serenity; I doubt 
 if it cost him a pang. No allusion to the subject was permitted in the family. 
 I discovered it by accident long after the event. Frugal in the extreme in 
 his personal expenditures, because so simple in his tastes, there was no 
 pinching in his economy, nothing penurious in his habits, nothing contracted 
 in his views. He was open-handed, and gave in proportion to his means as 
 liberally as any I have known. It was remarked that with all his retentive- 
 ness of facts and figures, he never could remember sums of money ; they 
 were the one piece of statistics that did not interest him. 
 
 The good old man had all that should accompany old age, and especially the 
 appropriate "troops of friends." Young and old rejoiced in his fellowship. 
 Even little children were attracted by the sunshine of his countenance. In 
 his last sickness the sympathy of a wide community flowed to his door. 
 Men resorted to his house as to a shrine, and none left it without a bene- 
 diction. 
 
 I think he had never an enemy in the world. Even as a "temperance man," 
 and zealous advocate of total abstinence from all alcoholic drinks, he so man- 
 aged his cause as to give no offence and provoke no ill-will. In an intercourse 
 extending over a quarter of a century, I recall no unworthy sentiment, no 
 harsh censure, no word of bitterness. He lived peaceably with all men, and 
 when he died, it seemed to those who knew him as if something of heavenly 
 grace had been withdrawn from the world. 
 
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 345 
 
 I have set down, at your request, Dear Sir, what occurs to me at the moment, 
 concerning our common friend. I am sorry to want the time for a more meth- 
 odical arrangement of my reminiscences. 
 
 With best wishes for success in your enterprise, believe me 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 FREDERICK H. HEDGE. 
 
 JOSEPH TUCKERMAN, D. D * 
 
 1801 — 1840. 
 
 Joseph Tuckerman, a son of Edward and Elizabeth (Harris) Tucker- 
 man, was born in Boston, on the 18th of January, 1778. 
 
 His father was distinguished for great conscientiousness, and for modest 
 but sterling worth. In the commencement of the B,evolution, he was 
 an intimate friend of John Hancock, and was among the early Presidents 
 of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic Association. His mansion at 
 the " South End " in Boston was pierced by a cannon ball during the siege, 
 and the place, for many years, was designated by a black oval inserted in 
 the wall. 
 
 His mother, who was a person of superior intellect and the finest moral 
 qualities, bestowed great pains upon his domestic education, and one of the 
 most pleasant of the occupations of his childhood was sitting by her side, 
 and reading to her the New Testament while she was busy with her needle. 
 He seems to have very early formed the purpose of entering the ministry, 
 and to have adhered to it steadily until the object of his aspirations and 
 hopes was finally attained. He was fitted for College, partly at Phillips 
 Academy, Andover, and partly by the Bev. Thomas Thacher, of Dedham, 
 in whose family he lived. In due time he entered Harvard College, where 
 he was distinguished by great kindliness of feeling, buoyancy of spirit, and 
 devotion to the lighter branches of English literature, rather than by intense 
 application to the severer studies ; though, after leaving College, the habit 
 of 'his mind seemed to change, and his studies assumed a much graver and 
 more substantial character. He graduated, in the same class with Dr. 
 Channing and Judge Story, in 1798. After devoting the usual time to 
 the study of Theology, under the Kev. Mr. Thacher, who had partly super- 
 intended his preparation for College, he was licensed to preach, it is be- 
 lieved, by the Boston Association, and shortly after was invited to become 
 the Pastor of the church in Chelsea, as successor to the Kev. Dr. Phillips 
 Payson. Chelsea was, at that time, a small village, and the people were 
 generally farmers, in moderate circumstances, and of very humble intel- 
 lectual culture. But, notwithstanding this, Mr. Tuckerman did not hesi- 
 tate to accept their call, and he was, accordingly, ordained and installed 
 there, on the 4th of November, 1801, the Bev. Thomas Thacher preaching 
 the Sermon. 
 
 •Memoir of Dr. Tuckerman. — Ware's Unitarian Biography, II.— Ms. from Mr. H. T. 
 Tuckerman. 
 
346 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 On the 5th of July, 1803, Mr, Tuekerman was married to Abigail; 
 daughter of Samuel and Sarah (Rogers) Parkman, and sister of the late 
 Rev. Dr. Francis Parkman, of Boston. She was a lady of the most amia- 
 ble and attractive qualities, but she survived her marriage only four years, 
 and died, the mother of three children. On the 3d of November, 1808, he 
 was again married to Sarah, daughter of Col. Cary, of Chelsea, who was 
 spared to him during a period of thirty-one years. The following is his 
 own testimony concerning her : — " You can hardly imagine a human being 
 more true, more disinterested, more faithful to right and duty. Never 
 physically vigorous, she has, notwithstanding, the greatest moral courage 
 and independence. In times of difficulty and danger she is as calm, as 
 self-possessed, as under the most tranquil circumstances ; and has passed 
 through long scenes of privation, responsibility, and watching, which might 
 have worn down a strong man." By this marriage there were seven 
 children. 
 
 During his ministry at Chelsea Mr. Tuckerman's attention was specially 
 drawn to the temptations and necessities of sea-faring men ; and with him 
 originated the first effort that was made in this country for their improve- 
 ment. In the winter of 1811-12 he formed the first Society that was 
 established for the " Religious and Moral Improvement of Seamen." This 
 Society was for several years in active operation, and the Tracts which it 
 put in circulation are said to have exerted a benign influence upon not a 
 small number of the class for whom they were designed. 
 
 In 1816 Mr. Tuekerman, with his wife, paid a visit to England, in the 
 hope of benefitting his health, which had been failing for some time ; but 
 his visit was very brief, and he returned without having experienced much 
 apparent advantage from his tour. He continued, however, in the active 
 discharge of his professional duties till the spring of 1826, when he found it 
 necessary to relinquish, in some degree, the labours of the pulpit. On the 
 4th of November following, just twenty-five years from the day of his Ordi- 
 nation, he preached his Farewell Sermon at Chelsea. In a work which he 
 published many years later, entitled " Principles, and Results of the Min- 
 istry at Large in Boston," he writes concerning his labours at Chelsea as 
 follows : — 
 
 '■' I passed twenty-five years as the minister of a small Religions Society in the coun- 
 try. The lines of my parish there were the lines also of the town. There was no 
 other Religious Society in the place than that to which I ministered. There the rich 
 and the poor, or, in other words, those who had some capital and those who had none, 
 met on terms of equality before the church door on Sunday, interchanged expressions 
 of friendly greeting, and separated to pass into their own pews or into free galleries, 
 without the slightest feelinjr. in either case, that distinction of condition was thus im- 
 plied between them. In every family of my flock I was at home. I knew intimately 
 all the parents, all the children, and almost every one who was employed any consid- 
 erable time as a labourer upon the farms around me. I visited all, and almost all, in 
 return, visited me ; and to every one I ever felt myself at liberty to speak of his inter- 
 ests, moral as well as secular, with the freedom of a brother. I had given much time 
 to pastoral intercourse, to communications with individual minds upon subjects upon 
 which I had addressed them from the pulpit ; and I had learned that this intercourse 
 was a means not less important than the services of the church for giving vitality to 
 the religious principle among the members of a congregation. I had learned also, not 
 only that conversation might usefully be held upon religious and moral subjects, but 
 with many who had been indifferent, or even opposed to them ; and that not a few 
 were most glad to be addressed upon them by their Pastor, whose diffidence would 
 have restrained them from making these the leading subjects of their conversations 
 with him." 
 
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 347 
 
 In 1824, he was honoured with the Degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 Immediately after the resignation of his pastoral charge at Chelsea, he 
 entered upon his work as Minister at Large in Boston, to which place 
 lie soon removed with his family. He now commenced visiting the poor, 
 and, though there was much that was discouraging at the beginning of his 
 enterprise, his prospects of usefulness soon began to brighten. At the end 
 of the first year he had become acquainted with an hundred and seventy 
 families ; and, at the expiration of another six months, he reckoned two 
 hundred and fifty families as belonging to his pastoral charge, and there 
 was scarcely a dark alley or by-place in the city which he had not explored. 
 To this form of benevolent activity Dr. Tuckerman devoted the residue of 
 his life, labouring to improve and elevate the condition of the poor with 
 all the intensity of a ruling passion. 
 
 In 1833 Dr. Tuckerman's health had become greatly reduced under his 
 manifold labours, and he suffered a severe pulmonary attack which threat- 
 ened his life. When he had so far recovered as to be able to travel, he 
 accepted an invitation from his intimate and highly valued friend, the Hon. 
 Jonathan Phillips, to accompany him on a visit to England, with the in- 
 tention of passing the following winter in Italy, — a purpose, however, which 
 was not accomplished. Though his immediate object in crossing the ocean 
 was the restoration of his health, yet the great work to which his life was 
 now devoted, was always in his thoughts, and wherever he paused on his 
 journey, he busied himself, so far as his strength would permit, in ex- 
 ploring the retreats of poverty. In London he had the pleasure of be- 
 coming personally acquainted with that eminent Hindoo, the Eajah Eammo- 
 hun Boy; and the interview between them is said to have been mutually 
 delightful. After visiting several of the most important towns in England, 
 and spending some little time in Dublin, he passed over to France, where 
 he was treated with great kindness by the Baron Degerando, whose phil- 
 anthropic labours had taken nearly the same direction with Dr. Tucker- 
 man's. He returned to this country in the early part of the summer of 
 1834, with his health less benefitted by his tour than he had expected. He 
 was no longer able to engage in the active duties of the ministry, though 
 his heart was by no means withdrawn from his chosen field, and he was con- 
 stantly on the alert to introduce into it as many new labourers as he could. 
 In a letter to a friend in England, written in 1835, he speaks thus of the 
 success of the great enterprise to which he had devoted himself: — 
 
 " "We have nowsevcn Ministers at Large. One is an Episcopalian, one a Baptist, two 
 are Orthodox Congregationalists. or as they would be called in England, Independents, 
 three are Unitarians; and on all great general interests we are in perfect unison. Does 
 not this look like Christian advancement ? We have the most entire public confidence, 
 and, what is far better, we all feel that we have the blessing of the common Father 
 with us." 
 
 In the summer of 1836 Dr. Tuckerman suffered a very severe pulmon. 
 ary attack, which induced him to pass several weeks in Newport, B. I. 
 He had hoped that, by this means, his health would become so much in- 
 vigorated that he would be able to labour to some advantage during the 
 succeeding winter; but, instead of this, as the winter approached, he was 
 obliged to seek a milder climate, and, accordingly, took up his residence 
 
348 .UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 for several months on the Island of Santa Cruz. He returned in the spring, 
 as it was thought, with his health considerably improved ; but there was 
 too little of vital force remaining to justify any attempt to resume his la- 
 bours. He was able, however, iu the latter part of October, 1837, to at- 
 tend the Ordination of a new colleague, Mr. Sargeant, and to give him 
 "the Charge." The occasion was one of great interest to him, and he 
 subsequently declared that, during the exercise, he felt all the elasticity 
 of youth. 
 
 In 1838 Dr. Tuckerman published a book which he had long had in 
 contemplation, on "The Principles and Results of the Ministry at Large 
 in Boston." Though it had never a wide circulation, either in this coun- 
 try or in England, the Baron Degeraudo speaks of it, as throwing "inval- 
 uable light upon the condition and wants of the indigent, and the influence 
 which an enlightened charity can exert." 
 
 Shortly after this he was subjected to a most desolating affliction in the 
 death of his wife. In letters written to his friends in reference to this 
 event, he expresses himself in the strongest terms in respect to the excel- 
 lence of her character, and the bitterness of his own bereavement, while 
 yet he declares himself perfectly resigned to the will of God. The shock 
 occasioned by this separation operated very injuriously upon his health ; 
 and, for a while, he was alarmingly ill ; but he so far revived that, after 
 much hesitation, he consented to try the effect of a voyage to Cuba, which 
 was recommended as the only means of prolonging his life. He, accord- 
 ingly, sailed for Havana, accompanied by his daughter. For a time after 
 his arrival there his health seemed to improve, and he proceeded to the in- 
 terior of the Island. But there he began rapidly to decline, and it was 
 with some difficulty that they were able to return to Havana. His mem- 
 ory became greatly impaired, except in regard to events that dated back 
 to a remote period. His sufferings were most intense, but he was often 
 heard to say, — " The cup which my Father has given me, shall I not drink 
 it ? " He died at Havana on the 20th of April, 1840. His remains were 
 conveyed to Boston, and, after appropriate funeral services at King's 
 Chapel, conducted by the Rev. Dr. Greenwood, were laid in the Mount 
 Auburn Cemetery, where a monument lias been erected at an expense of 
 about one thousand dollars, contributed by a very large number of persons 
 in different churches, and by many among the poor, who were desirous thus 
 to express their gratitude to their beloved and venerated benefactor. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Tuckerman's publications: — 
 
 A Funeral Oration, occasioned by the Death of General George Wash- 
 ington, written at the request of the Boston Mechanic Association, and 
 delivered before them, 18<)0. A Sermon preached at the request of the 
 Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company, on the day of their Election 
 of Officers, 1804. A Sermon delivered at the Ordination of Samuel Gil- 
 mafi,* to the Pastoral Care of the Second Independent Church in Charles- 
 
 * Samuel Gilman, a son of Frederick and Abigail H. (Somer) Gilman, was born in Glouces- 
 ter, Mass., February 16, 1791. In early childhood he lost his father, and when he was about 
 seven years old his mother took*him to Atkinson, N. H., and placed him at the Academy, 
 then under the care of the Rev. Stephen Peabody. The family subsequently removed to 
 Salem, Mass., and Samuel was, for some time, employed as aclerk in the old Essex Bank. In 
 due time he entered Harvard College, where be graduated with high honour in 1811. He 
 soon commenced the study of Theology, chiefly under the direction of Dr. Ware, and remained 
 
JOSEPH TUCKEKMAN. 349 
 
 ton, S. 0., 1819. Two Sermons, preached in Marblehead, one on the 
 Government of the Passions, the other on Erroneous Views of Religion, 
 1820. A Discourse preached before the Society for Propagating the Gos- 
 pel among the Indians and others in North America, 1821. A Sermon 
 preached on the Twentieth Anniversary of his Ordination, 1821. The 
 Distinctive Character and Claims of Christianity : A Sermon preached at 
 the Ordination of the Rev. Orville Dewey, Pastor of the First Congrega- 
 tional Church in New Bedford, 1823. A Sermon preached at the Ordina- 
 tion of Charles P. Barnard and Frederick T. Gray,* as ministers at Large 
 in Boston, 1824. A Letter on the Principles of the Missionary Enter- 
 prize, 1826. A Letter addressed to the Hon. Harrison Gray Otis, Mayor 
 of Boston, respecting the House of Correction and the Common Jail in 
 Boston, 1830. Prize Essay : An Essay on the Wages paid to Females for 
 their Labour, in the form of a Letter from a Gentleman in Boston to his 
 Friend in Philadelphia, 1830. An Introduction to " The Victor of the 
 Poor," translated from the French of the Baron Degerando, by a Lady of 
 Boston, 1832. A Letter to the Executive Committee of the Benevolent 
 Fraternity of Churches respecting their Organization for the Support of the 
 Ministry at Large, 1834. Gleams of Truth, or Scenes from Real Life, 
 1835. A Letter respecting Santa Cruz, as a Winter Residence for Inva- 
 lids, addressed to Dr. John C. Warren, of Boston, 1837. The Principles 
 and Results of the Ministry at Large, 1838. 
 
 at Cambridge, engaged in this and kindred studies, for several years. In 1817 be was 
 appointed Mathematical Tutor in the College, and held the office for two years. In 1819 
 he went to Charleston, S. C, where he received a call from the Unitarian Church, then 
 vacant by the death of the Rev. Anthony M. Forster. He accepted the call, and was ordained 
 and installed Pastor of that Church, on the 1st of December, 1819. Here he laboured with 
 great diligence and acceptance during the remainder of his life. In 1837 he received the 
 degree of Doctor of Divinity from Harvard College. In the winter of 1858 he came to the 
 North to visit his friends, and died suddenly at the house of his son-in-law, Rev. Charles J. 
 Bowen, at Gloucester, Mass. on the 9th of February, aged sixty-six. In his general inter- 
 course with society, he was exceedingly popular, possessing not only a richly endowed and 
 highly cultivated mind, but the most genial and kindly spirit, and manners singularly urbane 
 and attractive. Though I never met him but once, I often had occasion to test his kindness, 
 and no friend ever conferred favours upon me more promptly or more gracefully. He was 
 married on the 14th of October, 1819, to Caroline, daughter of Samuel Howard, of Boston, a 
 lady of rare gifts, and well known, in the walks of literature, by her attractive productions. 
 He had five children, — four daughters, who, with their mother, survived him, and one son, 
 who died in early life. He published a Sermon on the Introduction to the Gospel of John, 
 1825 ; A Sermon at the Dedication of the Unitarian Church in Augusta, Ga., 1827 ; Memoirs 
 of a New England Village Choir, 1829 ; Pleasures and Pains of a Student's Life, 1852 ; Con- 
 tributions to Literature, Descriptive, Critical, and Humorous, Biographical, Philosophical 
 and Poetical. He translated the .Satires of Boileau, and published some original poems, 
 among which are the History of a Ray of Light, and a Poem read before the Phi Beta Kappa 
 Society of Harvard College. He was also a liberal contributor to the North American 
 Review, Christian Examiner, Southern Quarterly Review, and other periodicals. 
 
 * Fbederick Tahell Geay was born in Boston in the year 1804. He was educated to 
 business with excellent prospects, but was gradually drawn into the clerical profession by the 
 deep interest which be took in the moral condition of the lower classes. He preached his 
 first sermon in an upper chamber, at the junction of Merrimack and Portland streets, Boston, 
 in December, 1826. He began his .ministry at the Friend Chapel in Boston, in October, 1833; 
 removed to the Pitt Chapel in 1836 ; and, after labouring here very successfully for several 
 years, became the minister of the Bulfinch Street Church. With this church he was connec- 
 ted till nearly the time of his death, when he asked a dismission, and was appointed Secre- 
 tary of the Sunday School Society. In 1853 he visited California for the purpose of minis- 
 tering, during a year, to a church recently established in San Francisco. He diod in Boston, 
 March 9, 1855. His publications are Christ and Him crucified : Two Sermons preached in 
 the Bulfinch Street Church, at the close of the Second Year of the Ministry of the Pastor, 
 1841. A New Year's Sermon, 1847. A Sermon on the Duties, Encouragements and Re- 
 wards of the Sunday School Teacher, 1847. An Address at the Annual Meeting of the Bulfinch 
 Street Church, 1852. Extract from a Sermon the Sunday following the Interment of Amos 
 Lawrence, 1853. 
 
350 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In addition to the above, Dr. Tuckerman is the author of a large num- 
 ber of Eeports of the Ministry at Large, and of several Tracts published 
 by the American Unitarian Association. 
 
 The most definite statement which I can find of Dr. Tuckerman's views 
 of Christian doctrine, as given by himself, is contained in the following ex- 
 tract from a letter to one of his friends written in 1834 : — 
 
 "There are certain speculative questions in Theology, upon which some decide very 
 authoritatively, but of \vh ich I am accustomed to think but little, and to say nothing. 
 There are, however, curtain elementary principles of religion, which have all the force 
 of axioms One of these principles is the absolute unity of the Great Supreme. An- 
 other is, that He is our Father, and that He is perfect rectitude and perfect love. An- 
 other is, that I was made, and that all my fellow-beings were made, for the know- 
 ledge, love and enjoyment of God. Another is, that the supreme good of every hu- 
 man being is virtue, or a conformity to the will, and an assimilation to the character, 
 of God. Another is, that I need, and that all need, light and aids in the discharge 
 of duties. And another is, that my greatest benefactor is the benefactor of my soul, 
 of my immortal nature. These at once are teachings of Christianity and principles 
 by which it is to be interpreted. Under the influence of these principles, the New Tes- 
 tament, as often as I open it, or think of it. becomes to me : glad tidings of great joy.' 
 I cannot think of Jesus but with the sentiment, ' Thanks be to God for his unspeak- 
 able gift.' My best evidence of the truth of our religion is in the fact that while it 
 reveals to me, in myself, the capacities of a nature which was formed for the infinite, 
 the immense and the everlasting, it, and it alone, goes to the height and the depth 
 of the soul — it, and it alone, supplies the objects in which these wants ever found, or 
 can find, satisfaction. II y great inquiries are not, therefore, for the metaphysical na- 
 ture of Christ or for any of the secret things of God. I would be one in spirit with 
 Christ, as He was one with the Father. This. I am sure, is the end of Christianity 
 here, and will be the perfection of Heaven hereafter. With the will of God, as illus- 
 trated by the spirit of Jesus for my law, with redemption or deliverance from all sin, 
 and progress in all viitue and holiness, as my end, I have no fear of any dangerous 
 error in my faith. Ah, my friend, our danger lies, not in our liability to erroneous 
 conceptions of Christian doctrine, but in our defective sensibility to Christian obli- 
 gations, and in our poor and low T standard of Christian duty. Let the same mind be 
 in you which was also in Christ; and be 'alive to God through Jesus Christ our Lord,' 
 is the language of our religion to all its believers. Any lower aim than this is un- 
 worthy of us as his disciples; nor can I conceive that any faith, which does not minis- 
 ter to our advancement in the spirit and life of Christ, can do any thing to advance our 
 qualification for the immortal blessedness of the Christian's Heaven." 
 
 FROM HEXRY T. TTJCKERMAX, ESQ. 
 
 Oswego, N. Y., June 15, 1855. 
 
 My dear Sir : A visit of a few days to my sister, residing in this place, 
 gives me the first opportunity, since the pleasant hour I passed with } 7 ou in 
 Albany last week, to note the impressions you desire in regard to the charac- 
 ter of my uncle, Rev. Dr. Joseph Tuckerman. 
 
 "When I compare his demeanour and aspect with the present race of clergy- 
 men, I feel that with him departed a generic type of the profession almost ob- 
 solete. His thin, aquiline face, and hair combed back from the brow r , his 
 benevolent manner and habit, on all occasions, of expressing sentiments and 
 taking a stand instantly suggestive of his calling, made him more distinctly 
 clerical to the most casual observer than is usually the case with ministers 
 now. Indeed, he took both pride and pleasure, and considered it his duty, to 
 assert the principles and extend the s}"mpathies, which, in old times, and in 
 early American society, were expected from a Preacher of the Gospel. This 
 earnest and habitual challenge to the w r orId he unconsciously bore in his air, 
 looks and conversation. He could not be five minutes in the presence of others, 
 without expressing, directly or indirectly, what Swedenborgians call his 
 "use," which was to advocate what he deemed true and right, to act the re- 
 former, the peace-maker and the Christian brother ; sometimes, perhaps 
 with unwise zeal, but always in sincerity of hoart and with ardour. His mo- 
 
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 351 
 
 tions, when in health, were nervously rapid, his flow of words ready and free, 
 his tone usually pleading ; he was capable of great cheerfulness, and an ex- 
 citable temperament lent freshness and cordiality to his address. He impres- 
 sed all with a sense of uprightness, and inspired strangers with the utmost 
 confidence. He was the creature of impulse, and frankly put himself in rela- 
 tion with any one he encountered, whom he desired to convince or influence. 
 lie was ready, except when enfeebled by illness, under which, in various forms, 
 he suffered frequently, to preach, argue, sympathize, counsel, rebuke, com- 
 passionate or pray, as the occasion demanded; and if there be such a tempera- 
 ment as the clerical, that is, an instinctive- readiness to enter into religious or 
 benevolent action, through unlimited emotional capacity, I think he possessed 
 it in an eminent degree ; and it was this that made him efficient as a mission- 
 ary to the poor. The sect to which he belonged have been reproached with 
 intellectual hardihood, a coldness of tone growing out of the predominance of 
 reflection and taste over sensibility and passion; but he was an exception, and 
 one of his warmest admirers was » Methodist preacher, of remarkable fer- 
 vour. The 'flow of soul' took precedence in him of 'the feast of reason' 
 
 Indeed, the basis of his character was a peculiar ardour of feeling, in which 
 consisted both its strength and weakness. All my recollections exhibit him 
 as an enthusiast ; and the reserved manners, and somewhat formal tone of 
 mind, which used to prevail in New-England, made him a striking contrast to 
 those with whom I came in most frequent contact. So vivid was his example in 
 this respect that, to my young imagination, goodness and emotion, or rather the 
 display of the latter, were long identified. It was a curious speculation to me, 
 even in boyhood, to reconcile the moral superiority I early learned to appreci- 
 ate in my excellent relative and revered Pastor, — Dr. Channing, with the total 
 diversity of manner and expression in the two friends. It is impossible to 
 fancy a greater diversity than they presented when engaged in conversation, 
 whether argumentative, serious or playful, the one all impulse, and the other 
 profoundly calm and self-possessed. "When I learned how to discriminate, it 
 became evident to my apprehension that the one was indebted to contempla- 
 tion, and the other to sympathy, for the influence each exerted, and the inter- 
 est of their individual characters — perhaps it was this very contrast in dis- 
 position that attached them so strongly. My uncle's efficiency arose from the 
 zeal with which he engaged in any pursuit ; his original force of mind was 
 not remarkable ; his natural powers of expression were limited; but few men 
 threw themselves so entirely into an enterprise, a discussion, an intimacy, or 
 even a casual project. From a condition of great physical exhaustion, or a mood 
 of entire listlessness, I have often seen him suddenly emerge, like one rejuve- 
 nated, at the sight of a congenial acquaintance, the mention of a benevolent 
 scheme, or the idea of an interesting journey. Judge Story, his chum at Har- 
 vard, among his numerous pleasant anecdotes, would describe the enthusiasm 
 with which he quoted Shakspeare and praised Addison, his ardour of mind, 
 under the influence of college life, having taken a literary direction. My own 
 first impressions of this pervading quality of his nature relate to what used 
 to be called the Unitarian controversy ; but it was, in fact, quite as much » 
 struggle between the spirit as the creed of two religious parties ; it being im- 
 possible to divide even the most prominent representatives of each sect into 
 the advocates of Uniform doctrines ; there was every shade of belief from the 
 most rigid Calvinism to mere Deism ; but under the titles of Liberal and Or- 
 thodox, the two great theological parties in New England were mainly divided 
 in regard to the relation of God to man, the nature of Christ, and the' destiny 
 of humanity. My earliest remembrance of my uncle's professional enthu- 
 siasm was the deep interest he took in the conversion of Rammobun Roy 
 to the form of Christian belief he cherished ; he corresponded with this Ori- 
 
352 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ental Unitarian, -whose portrait long ornamented his study ; and used to, 
 descant, in glowing terms, on the spread of views which he deemed essential 
 to the welfare of his race. Many good men of other denominations respected 
 his honest warmth of sentiment, and were attracted by it to the man, while 
 they repudiated his doctrine. Two incidents that occurred, during the heat 
 of this transition period in the religious community, I have never forgotten ; 
 and they illustrate his habitual ardour. One day he was seized with a sud- 
 den illness that gave the family much alarm ; his physician, an active mem- 
 ber of the orthodox church, was called, and, as he ministered to his patient, 
 who could with difficulty articulate, the latter, under the belief that his last 
 hour had arrived, gasped out repeatedly, "Do not misrepresent me, Doctor : 
 remember, oh, remember, I die in my faith!" "To bear testimony," as the 
 old Covenanters were wont to say, he was, indeed, ever zealous and em- 
 phatic. 
 
 He preached, about this time, the Ordination Sermon of his friend, the Rev. 
 Orville Dewey, at New Bedford. My father was a delegate on that occasion,' 
 and our visit there, being almost the first journey of my childhood, remains 
 clearly impressed on my mind. The schism that afterwards divided the 
 Society of Friends, had just then broken out, and was the exciting theme in 
 that community. The Unitarian church was filled, on the day of the services, 
 by members of all the Religious Societies in the town. That " religion is an 
 active principle " was the proposition my uncle attempted to demonstrate in 
 his sermon. Of the argument, of course, I can recall nothing; but the earnest- 
 ness of his manner, the ardour of his delivery, the length of his discourse, 
 unconsciously prolonged by numerous extemporaneous episodes, are very dis- 
 tinct in the retrospect. The attention was profound; and a feeling of unusual 
 interest was evident among the auditors, owing doubtless to the religious 
 sympathies of many present having been quickened by the dominant excite- 
 ment and the strong appeals of the Preacher. The moment he ceased, and 
 before th,e hj-mn could be announced, forth from a pew immediately before me 
 stepped a fine looking man in Quaker costume; standing in the aisle, he 
 exclaimed in tremulous but feeling tones, " Let us pray !" At first there 
 was a look of surprise, but in a moment all seemed to understand that this 
 was a conscientious seceder from the ultra Orthodox Friends, or, at all events, 
 one who felt impelled to obey the intimations of the Spirit, whenever and 
 wherever moved. A more eloquent prayer I never heard — it seized on the 
 hearts of the assembly, ariJl was a deep and spontaneous response to the 
 sentiment of the discourse. We afterwards dined at the house of this gentle- 
 man; and, just as we took our seats, the host inquired of my uncle how many 
 children he had. He stated the number then living, and added, " and two in 
 Heaven." "How do you know that?" — asked a guest; and this was the 
 signal for one of the niost obstinate disputations on the conditions of a future 
 state to which I have ever listened. With characteristic oblivion of the pro- 
 prieties of time and place, my uncle laid down his knife and fork, and, forgetful 
 of his dinner and the unpolemical part of the company, fairly overwhelmed us 
 with his vindication of " the ways of God to man." 
 
 This self-absorption, incident to all enthusiastic men, occasionally led to 
 amusing results. One evening, he entered the house adjoining his own, hung 
 up his hat in the entry, and seeing a fair neighbour in the parlour, welcomed 
 her with unusual cordiality — " This is indeed kind, my dear Madam," said 
 he, " I am delighted to see you thus sitting at your work, and making your- 
 self at home — it is truly neighbourly — just what I like." He drew a chair 
 to the fire and began to chat, his amused companion perceiving and being 
 determined to humour the mistake — after about half an hour, wishing to 
 write a note, he looked to his accustomed corner, and missed his desk, and 
 
JOSEPH TTJCKERMAN. 353 
 
 then glancing at the wall, wondered what had become of the portrait of his 
 venerable friend, — the great Peace Apostle, Noah Worcester, and at last the 
 truth flashed upon him that he was in the wrong house. One morning he sent 
 to the livery stable for the horse and chaise with which he made visits to the 
 poor — word was brought that they had not been returned the previous even- 
 ing; and then he remembered having been completely pre-occupied, the day 
 before, with an afflicted family, from whose humble home he had returned on 
 foot; a search was instituted, and the vehicle found at the end of Long Wharf, 
 where the poor animal had passed the whole night under the lee of a cask of 
 molasses ! When he consulted Abernethy, on his first visit to England for 
 his health, forgetful of the Doctor's well-known antipathy to circumlocution, 
 he expatiated upon the importance of health to him as the Pastor of a " lit- 
 tle parish in Chelsea," about which he indulged in some very natural but rather 
 untimely regrets, until the impatient physician cut him short with << no mat- 
 ter about your little parish — go home and build a barn." Though inclined 
 at first to resent this unsympathetic dictum, my uncle followed the advice, and 
 found it precisely adapted to his case; he secured thereby exercise, and had a 
 mechanical employment that occupied bis attention at the same time; and 
 when the barn was finished his health was restored. 
 
 I do not think any written memorial can give an adequate image of one 
 whose influence was so singularly personal. Impatient for results, he seldom 
 thought out any subject, except for an immediate object. The best things he 
 said, wrote or did, were the direct and instant offspring of his awakened sen- 
 sibility. His mind was far more active than profound; his language more 
 diffuse than finished; it was through sympathy rather than reflection that he 
 achieved good. Enlist his feelings and you had his will. Warm in his attach- 
 ments, fervent and somewhat exclusive in conversation, always engrossed in 
 some affection, experiment or course of action, it was the living man, and not 
 his gifts or achievements, that best represented all he was. He was more of 
 a social being than a scholar, more of a philanthropist than a thinker. In the 
 denomination to which he belonged, with such pulpit orators as Buckminster, 
 Ware, Dewey, Greenwood and Channing, whose writings have a standard 
 literary value, he never sought renown as a Preacher. The field of duty to 
 which he was first appointed was obscure, though singularly in need of an 
 efficient clergyman. No village near Boston was more the resort of fellows 
 "that hang loose about town" than Chelsea, although several excellent 
 families were included in the parish. Among the former he did much good, 
 and to the latter he greatly endeared himself by the kindly, self-devoted and 
 sincere spirit in "which he fulfilled his duties. But in those days of slow com- 
 munication he was somewhat isolated, and dependent, in a great measure, for 
 society upon Boston. I remember his home as a delightful place to visit, when 
 a child, and a scene of domestic enjoyment, whose rural quiet was sometimes 
 invaded by the monthly gathering of the neighbouring clergy, always an occa- 
 sion of much interest. My uncle's temperament, his physical and moral need 
 of activity, the. quickness of his sympathies, his social disposition and the 
 marked superiority of his parochial labours over those of the pulpit, — all indi- 
 cated a different sphere, as far better adapted to elicit his powers of useful- 
 ness. The project of a << Ministry at Large," to be sustained by the combined 
 aid of the various Unitarian Churches, was a precedent, the importance of 
 which can hardly be overrated. It was an enterprise precisely fitted to my 
 uncle's character, tastes and ability; and this was made evident the moment 
 he entered upon its functions. His whole nature was quickened; he interested 
 the young and the wealthy in behalf of his mission; his services at the Free 
 Chapel were fully attended; at the office of the Association a, record was kept 
 of all the poor known to be without employment in the city, with such facts of 
 
 Vol. VIII. 23 
 
354 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 their history as were needed to their intelligent relief. My uncle became the 
 almoner of the rich and the confidant of the poor; he visited families who had 
 no religious teachers and no regular source of livelihood, collected and reported 
 facts, corresponded with the legislators at home and abroad, and thus opened 
 the way for a more thorough understanding of the condition of the indigent 
 and the means of relieving them, the causes of pauperism and the duty of 
 Christian communities towards its victims. A work entitled " Principles and 
 Results of the Ministry at Large," besides a series of Annual Reports to the 
 Association that appointed him to the office, abundantly indicates the indirect 
 value of his labours to the political economist and to the charitable enquirer, 
 as well as the great amount of immediate good effected in the way of physical 
 relief and moral reformation. These labours initiated a new sphere of Protes- 
 tant charity; they excited much interest in England, and one of the ablest 
 emanations of his pen was an eloquent rebuke to Sir Robert Peel for views 
 advanced by him for the prevention of pauperism in Great Britain, which 
 ignored the highest claims of humanity in order to subdue a material evil. 
 The friendships, correspondence, discussions and personal ministrations inci- 
 dent to this extensive undertaking, absorbed his time, thoughts and feelings 
 for several years. His craving for usefulness, his need of action, and his love 
 of truth, were all gratified. His object met with the highest recognition at 
 home and abroad; and his nature thus found, at last, the free scope and am- 
 ple inspiration required for one to whom sympathetic activity and earnest 
 devotion were alike an instinct of character and a demand of conscience. 
 
 Very respectfully and truly yours, 
 
 HENRY T. TUCKERMAN. 
 
 FROM MISS ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 Boston, September 9, 1854. 
 
 My dear Sir: I remember hearing Dr. Tuckerman preach between 1815 and 
 1820 in the North Church of Salem, while he was a Pastor in Chelsea; and I 
 know he was a very acceptable Preacher, and reputed at that time to be a 
 high Arian. But his preaching was rather practical than doctrinal. One of 
 his sermons made a very deep impression on my mind, and I think has been a 
 recognized part of its furniture ever since. It was upon the text, — << There 
 are yet seven thousand men in Israel, who have not bowed the knee to Baal;" 
 and he made it teach that the Christian, however dark the prospect around 
 him, and however he might seem to be alone in any cause which he had evi- 
 dence was the cause of God, should never doubt that there Was a multitude, 
 somewhere, working with him, and so take courage. 
 
 Subsequently, ill health compelled Dr. Tuckerman to relinquish his pastoral 
 charge, which seemed very dear to him; but it was not many years before his 
 prevailing love of pastoral duty had involved him in the cares of the Ministry 
 of the Poor in Boston, which began in spontaneous visits on his part; and 
 when he found how great was the field, he became so zealously interested as 
 to attract the co-operation of his much loved friends, Dr- Channing and Mr. 
 Jonathan Phillips. They aided him by their counsels and sympathy as well 
 as by pecuniary contribution. For, although the plan was to give moral and 
 spiritual aid to the poor, he found it necessary that material aid should be 
 given also, in some instances, and preferred it should come from some other 
 source, as he wished to have the sentiment towards himself in the minds of 
 these people wholly unadulterated with personal expectations. I saw much 
 of Dr. Tuckerman while he was in this relation, as I was in the habit of 
 spending my evenings with Dr. Channing, and Dr. Tuckerman was a frequent 
 and familiar visitor. For some reasons, he and Mr. Phillips and Dr. Chan- 
 
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 
 
 355 
 
 ning used to meet once a week to take counsel together in regard to his philan- 
 thropic work, in which they all seemed equally engaged, though Dr. Tucker- 
 man was the active and public agent of this great charity. 
 
 The effect of it upon himself was very interesting to me. He was naturally 
 self-conscious and sentimental, and being an invalid, was perhaps a little 
 "sultry" in his manners. But as he grew more and more fervent in this 
 work, and saw more and more of the self-forgetting resignation of the vir- 
 tuous and pious poor, under their hardships and sufferings, he forgot himself 
 more 1 and more, in sympathy with them. When he came to see Dr. Chan- 
 ning, he would tell of the noble virtues that he had witnessed, — the sublime 
 piety which expressed itself in patience and immortal hopefulness, especially 
 in the case of women. He would also tell of the temptations of the poor, and 
 how much he found to do in strengthening them to hold fast their integrity in 
 different straits, and how a very little timely sympathy availed. Dr. Chan- 
 ning was exceedingly earnest that the sufferers should not be pitied into weak- 
 ness, and that the poor should not be degraded by the help of those who 
 seemed to be above them. He wanted them to be helped to help themselves, 
 for he believed that to cherish the dignity of human nature into consciousness 
 was to touch the highest spring of energy ; and he believed it might be done, 
 without, in the smallest degree, infringing upon religious humility. And Dr. 
 Tuckerman fully acted in this spirit, and grew more and more to reverence 
 those among whom he ministered. It was wonderful how he was received by 
 even the vicious, and how often he found it possible to awaken in those who 
 seemed at first to be hopeless subjects, self-respect and hope, leading to the 
 most happy results. He grew every day and hour more real, as he acted in 
 this noble way ; and it did indeed seem, when you heard him talk, as if the 
 worldly society of the better classes was stale, flat and unprofitable, in 
 comparison with what he found in what are called the lower walks of life. 
 But he would never let you call them " lower," he would say, — << less world- 
 favoured." 
 
 It was in this ministry he met with Father Taylor, the Methodist Sailors' 
 Preacher, whose rare genius and great nature he was one among the first to 
 recognize. I remember once Dr. Channing told me with great delight that he 
 was telling Brother Tuckerman that he must endeavour to find among these 
 people co-adjutors in his work (he was always inquiring after and soliciting 
 these) for "perhaps he would discover another Taylor." "Another Tay- 
 lor!" — exclaimed Dr. Tuckerman — "as well might you expect to find 
 another Homer." 
 
 As he made progress in his benevolent work, — endeavouring to recover the 
 lost, helping the feeble minded, and recognizing the unknown brethren, who 
 were not perhaps sealed with the name of Christ, though they were his in 
 spirit, he grew less speculative and more practical himself. He would say, — 
 " Christianity is a life, — not a scheme of metaphysical abstractions. Its sphere 
 is rather the heart and will than the brain and imagination. Its fruits are 
 not words but moral growth, enabling men to work with their hands, day after 
 day, and grow meanwhile more sweet, noble, kind, helpful, pure and high- 
 minded. Much of his conversation with Dr. Channing was upon Jesus Christ, 
 and the method of the life He led among the poor to whom he ministered. Dr. 
 Channing was always meditating on the Gospels. The scope and bearing of 
 every word and deed of Jesus, even of his manner on various occasions, was 
 an exhaustless study, and his object was to divine from what He did and said, 
 how it was intended that men should be addressed and generally treated, 
 when we are trying to help them towards the religious life. And what was 
 beautiful to me was that they did this without self-exaltation. They seemed 
 to feel that they had no advantage over the poor except in fortune ; and Dr 
 
356 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Tuckerman was overflowing with the expression of what he perpetually gained 
 from the example and tone of mind of those with whom he mingled in sym- 
 pathy. He sometimes expressed momentary impatience with Dr. Channing, 
 because he persisted in saving his own small bodily strength for making ser- 
 mons ; and would seem to disparage all forms of the Christian ministry but 
 the one in which he was so ardently engaged. Dr. Channing, however, 
 silently persevered in his own line, without being at all careful to have his 
 friend acknowledge his righteousness in doing so. He enjoyed the proof it 
 gave of the earnestness and thorough devotion of Dr. Tuckerman to the path 
 he had chosen, that he could not even see any other for any man. 
 
 If these brief notices of a man who filled a wide space in his day, -and in 
 his way, shall be of any use. to you, I shall be heartily glad. 
 
 Very truly jours, 
 
 ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN FORSYTH, D. D. 
 
 Newburgh, N. Y., March 25, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir : In the spring of 1845 I bought a copy of "White's Diatessaron, 
 at a sale of old books in New York, which, upon examination, I found had 
 once belonged to Dr. Tuckerman, of Boston. My reasons for thinking that the 
 volume was his property are these: — His name is written upon the title page 
 — " Joseph Tuckerman, 1806;" and upon a subsequent vacant page a manu- 
 script note, evidently in the same hand, occurs, signed << J. T." It is dated 
 "September, 1827." I need hardly say to you that, after reading the note, 
 the volume acquired fresh interest and value. It is as follows: — 
 
 " This has been my daily manual. It has been to me for light, and strength, 
 and solace, and peace. When at home, it has long been my custom to read it 
 every morning, that I might take a lesson from my Master before I went to 
 the ordinary duties of the day; and when I have travelled, it has been my 
 guide and my treasury on the water and on the land. With this narrative of 
 Jesus in my hand, I have felt myself, in any solitude, to be blest with the best 
 society; in any danger, to be safe; amidst strangers, to have with me the best 
 of friends; and in the deepest darkness of my way, to be always secure, while 
 my feet were in the way of his commandments. May he into whose hands 
 this little book shall pass at my death, value it as I have valued it ! I hope 
 that I can say truly with Paul, — ' I account all things but loss for the excel- 
 lency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.' " 
 
 As I understood you to say that you designed to include in your " Annals " 
 a sketch of Dr. Tuckerman, I have thought that the above note might possibly 
 throw some light upon his character, and therefore have copied it for you to 
 make such use of as you may think proper. 
 
 Very affectionately yours, 
 
 JOHN FORSYTH. 
 
WILLIAM FROTHINGHAM. 357 
 
 WILLIAM FROTHINGHAM. 
 
 1801 — 1852. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CAZNEAU PALFREY, D. D. 
 
 Belfast, Me., February 23, 1864. 
 
 My dear Sir: I cheerfully comply with your request for some account 
 of the Rev. William Frothingham, though my personal recollections of him 
 have respect to only a few of his last years. What I am about to commu- 
 nicate is drawn partly from a Sermon that I preached on occasion of his 
 death, and partly from the recollections of some of his family who still 
 reside in this place. 
 
 William Frothingham, a son of William and Mary (Leathers) Froth- 
 ingham, was born in Cambridge, Mass., March 14, 1777. His parents died 
 when he was quite young, and he passed his early years chiefly under the 
 care of his paternal grandparents, who lived in his native place. After 
 going through the preparatory course, he entered Harvard College in 1795, 
 and graduated in 1799, being contemporary with Channing, Buckminster, 
 Tuckerman, Nichols and Lowell, and many other departed worthies. Of 
 this period of his life I know of no fact worthy of record, except that he 
 cultivated poetry, and on two occasions was called to deliver poems in pub- 
 lic. After graduating, he kept school, successively at Lexington, Water- 
 town and Hingham, Mass., and at Blue Hill and Belfast, Me. Under 
 whose instruction he prosecuted his theological studies, I do not know, 
 though it was most probably, in part at least, under Dr. Tappan, then Pro- 
 fessor of Divinity at Cambridge. He was licensed to preach by " The As- 
 sociation of ministers in and about Cambridge," at a meeting held at New- 
 ton, June 9, 1801. In 1804 he was married to Lois Barrett, of Concord; 
 and on the 26th of September, of the same year, was ordained Paslor of 
 the Church in Saugus, Mass. In that place he struggled with the difficul- 
 ties of an incompetent support for more than twelve years, when he felt 
 constrained to resign his pastoral charge — this was on the 7th of May, 
 1817. In November following he came to this place, in the double capa- 
 city of a Teacher and a Missionary in the neighbourhood, in the employment 
 of the Evangelical Missionary Society. The town had then been some time 
 without a minister; the old meeting-house was dilapidated and untenanta- 
 ble ; and public worship was attended in the Academy. In the mean time 
 it was resolved to erect a meeting-house. At a legal parish-meeting, in 
 April, 1818, it was voted — one individual only dissenting — to give the 
 candidate a call to settle among them as their Pastor and Religious Teacher. 
 The church, in due time, unanimously concurred with the parish. Mr. 
 Frothingham did not, however, accept the call till after several months, 
 owing to the dangerous illness of his wife in Concord, Mass. After her 
 decease, which occurred in the spring of 1819, he formally accepted the 
 invitation he had received, and returned to this place. Arrangements 
 were immediately made for his Installation. On the day of the Installation, 
 the church having reconsidered their previous concurrence in the proceed- 
 
358 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ings of the parish, declined to co-operate in his settlement on the ground 
 of his refusal to subscribe to the doctrine of a Tri-personal God, as ex- 
 pressed in their creed. This secession finally resulted in the formation 
 of a new parish. The Installation took place on the 21st of July, 1819. 
 The Sermon on the occasion was by Dr. Ripley, of Concord ; the 
 Charge by Dr. Allyn, of Duxbury ; the Installing Prayer by Mr. Mason,* 
 of Castine ; and the Right Hand of Fellowship by Mr. Warren, t of Jack- 
 son. 
 
 On the 12th of August a new church was gathered in the First parish, 
 consisting of eight members, including its Pastor, to whom were afterwards 
 added, during the twenty-seven years of Mr. Frothingham's ministry, 
 ninety-four; making in alia hundred and two who became members 
 during that period. He had a peaceful and successful ministry. In June, 
 1845, in consequence of the state of his health, which had been some time 
 declining, his pastoral connection with the church and parish was dissolved 
 by mutual consent. He continued, however, to supply the pulpit, as far 
 as he was able, till the following spring. His last sermon was preached 
 April 4, 1847. He prepared a Discourse for the Fast day, which occurred 
 during the ensuing week, but was too feeble to deliver it, and was never 
 able, during the remaining years of his life, to take part in the exercises 
 of the pulpit. The faculties of his mind, however, remained unimpaired, 
 and he was able to take constant pleasure in his favourite occupation of 
 reading. The enjoyment he derived from this source, together with his 
 Christian equanimity, fortitude and patience, gave to the retirement of his 
 last days a serene and tranquil aspect. He died on the 24th of June, 
 1852. 
 
 Mr. Frothingham had, by his first marriage, four children, — one son 
 and three daughters, of whom one daughter only is now living, married 
 and resident in Augusta. In 1821 he was married to Lydia, daughter of 
 the Rev. Caleb Prentiss, of Reading, Mass. By this marriage there' were 
 two sons and two daughters, of whom the two daughters only survive. 
 
 The turn of Mr. Frothingham's mind was historical and literary rather 
 than philosophical. He loved to talk of facts and of books rather than to 
 discuss principles ; and preferred to select from his extensive reading such 
 opinions as seemed to him most rational and well founded, to the pursuit 
 of profound independent inquiries. The size of his library, compared with 
 his means, was a proof of his love of books. The carefulness with which 
 the selection was made showed his judgment and good taste. And his 
 conversation, though obstructed, during the period of my acquaintance 
 with him, by his infirmities, and perhaps always, to some extent, by his 
 natural diffidence, still gave indications of the diligence with which he had 
 read, and the faithfulness with which his memory had retained the results 
 of his reading. In the days of his activity he must have been a man of 
 great industry, methodical in all his arrangements, conscientious in the 
 application of all his energies to the work before him. The constitutional 
 
 * WiLLiisr Mason' was born in Rowley, Mass., Xorember 19, 1764, was graduated at Har- 
 vard College in 1792; was ordained and installed Pastor of the Church in Castine, Me., in 
 October, 1793; was dismissed in April, 1834; and died in 1847. 
 
 t Silas Warben was a native of Weston, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1795; was ordained at Jackson, Me., in September, 1812; and died in 1856. 
 
WILLIAM FKOTHINGHAM. 359 
 
 diffidence to which I have alluded, kept him more aloof than his people 
 desired from social intercourse with them. This is the only circumstance 
 in his pastoral life concerning which I have ever heard any of them express 
 u, regret. And that very regret indicated the value which they placed on 
 his society. They made just allowance for his peculiarity in this respect. 
 They saw that it proceeded from no defect of feeling or want of interest in 
 them. Neither, on his part, did it chill the sallies of a genial humour, of 
 which they have preserved a pleasant remembrance, nor on theirs' did it 
 prevent the formation of a solid attachment. 
 
 Mr. Frothingham entered the ministry at the period when the lines 
 which divide Unitarians from other denominations were beginning to be 
 distinctly drawn, and he took his stand on the Unitarian side. At the 
 same time, I have no doubt that his type of Unitarianism was the nearest 
 approach to Orthodoxy consistent with his assuming the Unitarian name. 
 It would be impossible for me here to give my reasons at length for this 
 opinion, — except indeed this one fact, which he told me himself, that, at 
 the commencement of his ministry, he had serious thoughts of entering the 
 Episcopal Church. His opinions must have been, at that time, sufficiently 
 near the standard of that Church to make it possible to satisfy his own 
 conscience, and the authority of the Church, with regard to his fitness for 
 its ministry. It is not likely that his theological position was ever mate- 
 rially altered after that time. I have no hesitation in setting him down a 
 high Arian. 
 
 But notwithstanding he was installed here as a minister of the Unitarian 
 denomination, he was little disposed for controversy — it was his nature to 
 follow after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one 
 may edify another. He chose rather to dwell upon the great truths that 
 underlie all forms of Christian belief, and constitute the common Chris- 
 tianity of differing sects. His preaching was practical and useful. Though 
 I never heard one of his pulpit performances, I believe that I have formed 
 a correct idea of them from much that I have heard about them from his 
 habitual hearers ; and I think I express their common sentiment when I 
 say that his sermons, though not set forth with imposing oratory, attracted 
 and rewarded attention ; that they were characterized by great variety, 
 both in the selection of subjects and the manner in which they were illus- 
 trated and enforced. That they were listened to with interest I have the 
 testimony of many of his hearers ; that they were faithfully remembered I 
 have proof in the manner in which I have heard particular discourses alluded 
 to after a lapse of many years. 
 
 Mr. Frothingham did not confine his efforts to the limits of his own par- 
 ish and the immediate duties of his ministerial office. He was ever ready 
 to do good, as the opportunity offered, in the community in which he dwelt. 
 At the period when ministers in this region were few and wide apart, he 
 cheerfully answered the calls that were frequently made upon him to go to 
 u, distance from home to render ministerial service, voluntarily assuming a 
 duty which could be claimed of him only on the general ground of obliga- 
 tion to do good to all men as he had opportunity. He was prompt to 
 encourage and assist all enterprises for promoting the moral, social and 
 intellectual improvement of the town. When popular lectures were, many 
 
360 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 years ago, introduced, he was among the first to engage in that service. 
 He laboured long and assiduously in that humble, but really important, 
 sphere of usefulness, — the School Committee; and freely gave his time, and 
 offorts, and thoughts to the duties of that sphere, when those labours were 
 purely labours of love, unrequited by any other compensation than the 
 consciousness of having done good. And he bequeathed to this community 
 the legacy of his example, the influence of his long, consistent and unim- 
 peachable life. He saw almost this whole village grow up around him. He 
 went in and out before a whole generation of this people, and the breath 
 of censure never touched his character — one uniform testimony is borne to 
 the purity and excellence of his life. 
 
 With regard to his personal appearance, I am able, as I have already 
 intimated, to speak of him only as he was after he had become quite infirm. 
 His stature was, I should say, somewhat below the average height ; though 
 it may have appeared so to me, in part, by reason of his being then bowed 
 down by disease. His complexion was light and his eye of a clear blue. 
 His voice was deeply pitched, but, when I knew him, of small volume. 
 His countenance had an anxious and distressed expression, probably the 
 effect of constant asthma ; yet about his mouth there still remained a 
 decided expression of the humour which unquestionably belonged to him, 
 and which he continued occasionally to exhibit. He was reserved in man- 
 ner and not copious in conversation. During my acquaintance with him 
 indeed, it was physically difficult for him to talk, but the universal testi- 
 mony of all who knew him in health is, that he was retiring, diffident and 
 silent in company. 
 
 I will only add that, at his settlement here, he purchased, at a low price, 
 a small farm beyond the outskirts of the village, which he cultivated with 
 great diligence for many years, — thus eking out his slender means of sup- 
 port,- — and which he lived to see come into demand as house-lots, as the 
 town increased. Very respectfully yours, 
 
 C. PALFREY. 
 
 WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, D. D* 
 
 1802—1842. 
 
 William Ellery Channing was the third child of William and 
 Lucy (Ellery) Channing, and was born at Newport, R. I., on the 7th of 
 April, 1780. His mother, a lady of uncommon strength and excellence of 
 character, was the daughter of William Ellery, who graduated at Harvard 
 College in 1747, and was afterwards a distinguished patriot in the Ameri- 
 can Revolution, and a signer of the Declaration of Independence. His 
 father, distinguished alike for his intellectual and moral qualities, was 
 graduated at the College of New Jersey in 1769, and subsequently set- 
 tled as a lawyer in Newport, his native place; in 1777 he became Attorney 
 
 * Memoir by William Henry Channing. 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 361 
 
 General of the State, and, upon the adoption of the Federal Constitution, 
 was appointed to the office of District Attorney for the District of Rhode 
 Island. 
 
 The subject of this notice was sent to school, while he was yet so young 
 that he was often carried in the arms of a coloured man. After having 
 been under the care successively of two or three female teachers, he 
 eutered an excellent school taught by a Mr. Rogers, in which ho made 
 rapid improvement. His boyhood was distinguished for great consideration, 
 conscientiousness and delicacy of feeling, as well as for an original turn of 
 thought and an independent spirit of inquiry. 
 
 At the age of twelve he was sent to New London to prepare for Col- 
 lege. Here he resided with his uncle, the Rev. Henry Channing,* then 
 the minister of the Congregational Church in that place, and attended a 
 school taught by Mr. (afterwards Rev. Dr.) Seth Williston. It was dur- 
 ing his residence here (September 21, 1703) that his father died. He was 
 sent for to attend the Euneral, and the event seems to have left upon his 
 mind an impression of considerable seriousness. About this time, a revival 
 of religion took place in his uncle's congregation, in which his biographer 
 informs us that "the mind of William received such deep and lasting im- 
 pressions, that he dated back to that period the commencement of a 
 decidedly religious life." Mr. Williston, his instructor, renders the fol- 
 lowing testimony concerning him at this period: — "His scholarship was 
 good ; his attention to the rules of the school was very exemplary ; and all 
 his deportment, so far as it came under my observation or within my know- 
 
 * Henry Channing, a son of John and Mary Channing, was a native of Newport, R. I. 
 He was graduated at Yale College in 1781, where also he was a Tutor from 1783 to 1786. In 
 this latter year a young Indian girl, of Pequot origin, living in a family within the bounds 
 of New London, had been convicted of the murder of a white child, the little daughter of a 
 neighbour, in revenge for some petty offence. The crime was attended with such fearfully 
 aggravating circumstances that, notwithstanding the criminal was less than thirteen years of 
 age, she was condemned to suffer the extreme penalty of the law. The execution was to 
 take place on the 20th of December, and application being made to President Stiles, of Yale 
 College, to designate some one to preach on the occasion, he recommended, as a suitable per- 
 son, Mr. Channing, then a Tutor in College, and a licensed preacher. lie consented to per- 
 form trie service, and delivered the Sermon to an immense throng of people, many of whom 
 were completely overpowered, and some of them, it was hoped, savingly benefitted, by the 
 effort. The result was that Mr. Channing was immediately called to become Pastor of the 
 Congregational Church in New London, then in a feeble and broken condition; and, having 
 accepted the call, he was ordained and installed on the 17th of May, 1787, — President Stiles 
 preaching the Sermon. A revival of religion commenced with his ministry, and continued 
 nearly two years, during which eighty persons were received to the Communion of the Church. 
 Though no suspicion existed of Mr. Channing being a Unitarian, at the time of his settle- 
 ment, or for several years after, circumstances have since seemed to render it probable that 
 his mind was at least moving in that direction, even from the commencement of his ministry. 
 He was dismissed by a Mutual Council, called at his own request, on the 20th of May, 1806. 
 He left New London almost immediately, and never afterward entered a pulpit or preached 
 a sermon in the place. In January, 1808, he was called to the Congregational Church in 
 Canandaigua, N. Y., and accepted the call, and, without any formal Installation, entered on 
 the duties of his office in the following June. Here he continued till May, 1811, when he 
 resigned his charge. His preaching, during this period, was never distinctively Unitarian, 
 and indeed little was known of Unitarianism, at least in that part of the country. In 1817 
 he returned to New London, and, in the two following years was a member of the Legisr 
 laturo of Connecticut, and was a vigorous supporter of what was then known as iC the tolera- 
 tion ticket." After remaing in New London two or three years, he went to New York, and 
 lived with his son, then a practising physician in the city. He died in New York, in the 
 year 1840, at the age of eighty years. He was married, on the 6th of September, 1793, to 
 Sally McCurdy, of Lyme, who died on the 25th of September, 1811, the mother of nine child- 
 ren. Mr. Channing published a Sermon delivered at the Execution of Hannah Occuish, 1786, 
 ' and a Thanksgiving Sermon, 1794. For the facts contained in this note, I am indebted to the 
 Rev. Joseph Hurlbut, and Miss F. M. Caulkins, of New London, and the Rev. Dr. Daggett, 
 of Canandaigua. 
 
362 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ledge, was peculiarly amiable. His features were then comely, his counte- 
 nance placid, and his mind, — the more important part, seemed to take a 
 serious turn, beyond what is common to boys of his age." 
 
 From New London he went to Cambridge, where he entered Harvard 
 College as Freshman, in 1794, being then in his fifteenth year. Through- 
 out his whole college course he distinguished himself as a scholar, and 
 was regarded as one of the brightest lights in the generation of students 
 to which he belonged. Upon the occasion of his graduation, the first 
 honour, the English Oration, was assigned to him ; but, as the Faculty of 
 the College had forbidden the introduction of political questions into the 
 exercises of Commencement Day, he declined to speak under this restric- 
 tion. A subsequent interview with the President, however, so modified 
 the case, that he determined to fulfil the appointment, and he did it in a 
 manner that evinced great independence as well as brilliancy, and drew 
 from the audience the most tumultuous shouts of applause. 
 
 From Cambridge he returned to his mother in Newport, without having 
 yet formed any definite plan in respect to the future. He seems, however, 
 to have made up his mind that he would devote himself to the Christian 
 ministry ; and, not having the means of supporting himself while engaged 
 in the study of Theology, he accepted an invitation from David Meade 
 Randolph, of Richmond, Va., then on a visit at Newport, to take the 
 place of tutor in his family. Accordingly, in the autumn of 1798, he 
 went to the South to meet this engagement. Here he found much to 
 interest and gratify him, though he seems to have been very painfully im- 
 pressed by the institution of Slavery, and in one of his letters he declares 
 that this alone would prevent him from ever settling in Virginia. During 
 his residence here he was very earnestly engaged in the study of the 
 Scriptures, and his mind seems to have taken on a much deeper tone of 
 seriousness than it had ever had before. In a letter, addressed to his 
 uncle, after giving an account of the prevalence of infidelity and the low 
 state of religion in the community in which he lived, he writes thus : — 
 
 '"' I will go farther, Sir — I believe that I never experienced that change of heart which 
 is necessary to constitute a Christian, till within a few months past. The worldling 
 would laugh at me ; he would call conversion a farce. But the man who has felt the 
 influences of the Holy Spirit, can oppose fact and experience to empty declamation 
 and contemptuous sneers. You remember the language of the blind man whom Jesus 
 healed — ,: This I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see." Such is the language 
 which the real Christian may truly utter. Once, and not long ago, I was blind, blind 
 to my own condition, blind to the goodness of God, and blind to the love of my Re- 
 deemer. Now I behold with shame and confusion the depravity and rottenness of my 
 heart. Now I behold with love and admiration the long-suffering and infinite benevo- 
 lence of Deity. 
 
 " All my sentiments and affections have lately changed. I once considered mere 
 moral attainments as the only object I had to pursue. I have now solemnly given 
 myself up to God. I consider supreme love to Him as the first of all duties, and mor- 
 ality seems but a branch from the vigorous root of religion. I love mankind because 
 they are the children of God. I practise temperance and strive for purity of heart, 
 that I may become a temple for his Holy Spirit to dwell in. I long most earnestly to 
 be such a minister as Fenelon describes. Religion is the only treasure worth pursuing. 
 I consider the man who recommends it to society as more useful than the greatest sage 
 and patriot who adorns the page of history. What liberty so valuable as liberty of 
 heart, freedom from sin ?" 
 
 Mr. Channing remained at the South about a year and a half, and, dur- 
 ing this time, owing partly to his intense application to study in connection 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 363 
 
 with his duties as a teacher, and partly to the severity of his inward con- 
 flicts, he lost his health, and was reduced to the mere shadow of a man. 
 He returned to Newport in July, 1800. The vessel in which he sailed, 
 was damp and leaky, and manned by a drunken captain and crew. Tliey 
 ran upon a shoal, and were obliged to lie there till the tide fortunately 
 lifted them off. When Mr. Ghanning left home he was hale and vigorous, 
 but, when he returned, his friends were shocked to find that he was little 
 more than a moving skeleton. From this time his life was a perpetual con- 
 flict with physical derangement and infirmity. 
 
 He remained at Newport a year and a half, pursuing his studies, and 
 having for his pupils a son of Mr. Randolph, and his own youngest brother. 
 He became acquainted, at this time, with the Rev. Dr. Samuel Hopkins, 
 to whose character he, on more than one occasion, paid a respectful and 
 grateful tribute. 
 
 In the beginning of 1802 he removed to Cambridge, having accepted the 
 office of Regent in the College ; the duties of which were so light as to 
 interfere but little with the prosecution of his theological studies. Here 
 he became connected with the First Congregational Church, whose Pastor, 
 the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Abiel Holmes, had the reputation of being a 
 moderate Calvinist. He was licensed to preach in the autumn of 1802, it 
 is believed by the Cambridge Association. His theological views at that 
 time were probably not very well defined, though it would seem, from the 
 following statement made by him at a later period in life, that he was not 
 a Trinitarian : — 
 
 " There was a time when I verged towards Calvinism : for ill health and depres- 
 sion gave me a dark view of things. But the doctrine of the Trinity held me back. 
 When I was studying my profession, and religion was the subject of deepest personal 
 concern with me, I followed Doddridge through his " Rise and Progress," till he 
 brought me to a prayer to Jesus Christ. There I stopped and wrote to a friend that 
 my spiritual guide was gone where I could not follow him. I was never in any sense 
 a Trinitarian." 
 
 Mr. Channing's first efforts in the pulpit attracted great attention. The 
 Churches in Brattle Street and Federal Street, Boston, were each desirous 
 to avail themselves of his services, and were making arrangements to 
 secure them ; but while the former were only asking him to preach as a 
 candidate, the latter actually presented to him a call, which, in view of all 
 the circumstances, he thought proper to accept. He was, accordingly, 
 ordained, and installed minister of the Federal Street Church, on the 1st 
 of June, 1803, — the Rev. Dr. Tappan, Professor in Harvard College, 
 preaching the Sermon, and his uncle, the Rev. Henry Channing, of New 
 London, delivering the Charge. 
 
 Mr. Channing, though never what could be called a preacher of Politics, 
 always felt a deep interest in the affairs of the nation, as well as in the 
 triumph of liberal principles in other parts of the world. In the War of 
 1812-1815 between the United States and Great Britain, his sympathies 
 were decidedly with the Federal party, as was indicated by two Sermons 
 preached on the occasion of the National and State Fasts, both of which 
 were published. In 1814 he delivered a Discourse, in the Stone Chapel, 
 on the Fall of Buonaparte, which may probably be reckoned among the 
 most splendid of all his efforts in the pulpit. 
 
364 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In 1815 the Unitarian controversy formally commenced in the publica- 
 tion, first in the Panoplist and then in a distinct pamphlet, of an article 
 extracted from Belsham's Life of Lindsey, and entitled "American Uni- 
 tarianism." Dr. Channing immediately addressed a Letter to the Rev. 
 Samuel Cooper Thacher, deploring the publication of what he deemed so 
 unworthy a representation of the views of the Boston Clergy. This brought 
 a Letter to him, on the controverted points, from the Rev. Dr. Worcester, 
 of Salem, to which he replied; as he did also to a second Letter from Dr. 
 W. ; and then, for the time being, retired from the controversy. In 1819, 
 he delivered a Discourse at the Ordination of Mr. Jared Sparks, in Balti- 
 more, which marked an important epoch in the history of Unitarianism in 
 this country ; as it led to a controversy in which was enlisted, on both 
 sides, a very high degree of ability. In 1826 he preached a Sermon at 
 the Opening of the new Unitarian Church in New York, of a very decisive 
 and earnest tone, which was published, and which is believed to have been 
 the last of his decidedly controversial public efforts. 
 
 In 1814 Mr. Channing was married to his cousin, Ruth Gibbs, of New- 
 port. About this time commenced his summer visits to Rhode Island, 
 where Mrs. Gibbs, his mother-in-law, who resided in Boston during the 
 winter, retained a country-seat. He became the father of four children, 
 one of whom, the first born, died in infancy. 
 
 In 1820 he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 In 1822 his Society and friends urged him to rest for a year from 
 his labours; and, at their suggestion, he sailed, in May of that year, 
 accompanied by his wife, for England. Here he made many valuable 
 acquaintances, among whom were "Wordsworth and Coleridge, both of 
 whom afterwards expressed high admiration of his character, while he was 
 no less delighted with them. From England he passed into France, and 
 thence through Switzerland into Italy. At Rome he was met with the 
 tidings of the death of his youngest son, and also of a sister-in-law to 
 whom he was greatly attached. He reached home in the fall of 1823, and 
 resumed his ministerial duties with increased alacrity and ardour. 
 
 Dr. Channing did not, however, experience all the advantage from his 
 tour that his friends had fondly anticipated. He had scarcely re-com- 
 menced his labours before it became manifest that he was tasking his ener- 
 gies beyond what they could long endure. Accordingly, in the spring of 
 1821, Mr. (now Dr.) Gannett became associated with him in the pastoral 
 charge. In consequence of this arrangement, Dr. Channing relinquished 
 a portion of his salary, and, from time to time, as he saw how the duties of 
 his colleague multiplied, he gave up the remainder, "until the pecuniary 
 tie between himself and his congregation became almost nominal." 
 
 Dr. Channing, besides attracting great attention by his occasional dis- 
 courses and other contributions to our literature, was identified with many 
 of the prominent benevolent projects of the day. He took a deep interest 
 in the Temperance Reform, and delivered an Address, in 1837, before the 
 Massachusetts Temperance Society, in which he discusses the causes and 
 remedies of Intemperance with great ability. He rendered important aid 
 to his friend, Dr. Tuekerman, in the establishment of the Ministry for the 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 365 
 
 Poor. The cause of Prison Discipline, also, had his hearty sympathy, and 
 as much of his attention as he was able to bestow upon it. In 1838 and 
 1840 he delivered Lectures on Self-culture and on the Elevation of the 
 labouring classes, which were republished and gained a wide circulation in 
 England. 
 
 Dr. Channing sympathized strongly with the Anti-slavery movement. 
 As early as 1828 he wrote to a friend in England, expressing his deep 
 interest in the subject, and his earnest desire that some plan might be 
 devised by which the slaves in this country should be emancipated. In the 
 autumn of 1830 he sailed for Santa Cruz for the benefit of his health, and 
 remained there until May of the next year. Here he saw much to confirm 
 his previous impressions in respect to Slavery, and on his return manifested 
 a strong desire that something should be done to arouse the public mind 
 on the subject. While in the West Indies he commenced a work on 
 Slavery which was not published until 1835. In 1837 he published a 
 Letter on the threatened Annexation of Texas, addressed to Henry Clay. 
 In the autumn of the same year he was instrumental of procuring a public 
 meeting in Paneuil Hall, to bear testimony against what he considered a 
 gross outrage upon all freedom of thought, in the shooting down of the 
 Kev. Mr. Lovejoy,* at Alton, while defending the building containing his 
 press which was devoted to Anti-slavery. But, while his mind dwelt with 
 perhaps greater intensity on this subject than almost any other, he declared 
 his disapprobation of all extreme measures, and relied upon the power of 
 argument and persuasion rather than reproachful epithets or violent deal- 
 ing. 
 
 In the summer of 1842 Dr. Channing went to pass a few weeks at 
 Lenox, Mass., to enjoy the beauty of the season and the country, and the 
 warm greetings of a, circle of intelligent and affectionate friends. While 
 here, he made his last public effort in the delivery of his well known 
 
 * Elijah Parish Lovejoy was born in Albion, Me., on tbe 9th of November, 1802. His 
 father was the Rev. Daniel Lovejoy, who, after passing his early years in the forests of Maine, 
 became a resident in the family of the Kev. Dr. Parish, of Byfield, Mass., and in the Academy 
 at that place received his literary training for the ministry. He was ordained as an Evangel- 
 ist in 1805; laboured as a missionary in different parts of Maine until 1818, when he was 
 installed as Pastor of a Church in Kobbinston, Me., but resigned his charge the next year. 
 He continued in the active duties of the ministry until his death, which occurred August 11, 
 1833, at the age of fifty-eight. The son, having fitted for College, partly at the Monmouth 
 Academy, and partly at the China Academy, entered the Sophomore class in Waterville Col- 
 lege in 1823, and graduated in 1826. The next year he went to the West, and engaged in 
 teaching a school in St. Louis, Mo.; but, after a short time, became the editor of a news- 
 paper, with flattering prospects of political elevation. Early in 1832 his mind underwent an 
 important change on the subject of religion, in consequence of which he resolved to devote 
 himself to the ministry. Accordingly, he joined the Theological Seminary at Princeton , and, 
 after remaining there a little more than a year, was licensed to preach by the Second Pres- 
 bytery of Philadelphia, in April, 1833. After passing the summer following in preaching, 
 partly at Newport, R. I. and partly as a supply at Spring Street Church, New York, he 
 returned to St. Louis in the fall, by request of some of his Christian friends, to become the 
 editor of a religious weekly paper. The first number of this paper, entitled the " St. Louis 
 Observer," was published on the 22d of November, 1833. Having become deeply convinced 
 of the sinfulness of the institution of Slavery, he felt constrained to make an honest exposition 
 of his views in relation to it, which called forth an earnest remonstrance from his patrons. 
 Not being willing to yield the right of giving expression to his own views, and finding it diffi- 
 cult or impossible to exercise that right in St. Louis, he removed with his paper to Alton. 
 But here his press was twice destroyed by mobs ; and on the third attack he was shot, while 
 defending his property against a company of desperadoes. This horrible event took place on 
 the 7th of November, 1837. He was married, March 4, 1835, to Celia Ann French, of St. 
 Charles, Mo. Shortly after his death, there appeared a Memoir of him, written by two of his 
 brothers, with an Introduction by John Quincy Adams. 
 
366 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Address on West India Emancipation. He left Lenox in September, 
 intending to return through the passes of the Green Mountains, but was 
 attacked at Bennington by a fever, which, after a little more than three 
 weeks, terminated his life. His family and near relatives hastened to him 
 as soon as they heard of his illness, but it was only to see him languish 
 and die. On Sunday, October 2d, the last day of his life, he listened to a 
 portion of Scripture containing some of the words of Jesus, with great 
 apparent satisfaction. " In the afternoon," says one who was watching at 
 his bedside, " he spoke very earnestly, but in a hollow whisper. I bent 
 forward, but the only words I could distinctly hear were, — ' I have 
 received many messages from the Spirit.' As the day declined, his coun- 
 tenance fell, and he grew fainter and fainter. With our aid, he turned 
 himself towards the window, which looked over valleys and wooded sum- 
 mits to the East. We drew back the curtains, and the light fell upon his 
 face. The sun had just set, and the clouds and sky were bright with gold 
 and crimson. He breathed more and more gently, and, without a struggle 
 or a sigh, the body fell asleep. We knew not when the spirit passed." 
 
 The body was immediately conveyed by the family to Boston, and, on 
 the afternoon of Friday, October 7th, his Funeral was attended at the 
 Federal Street Church, and a Discourse delivered on the occasion by the 
 Rev. Dr. Gannett. The burial took place the same evening at Blount 
 Auburn. 
 
 Dr. Channing's published works are contained in six duodecimo volumes, 
 with the exception of the following, which have appeared entire only in 
 pamphlet form : — 
 
 A Sermon delivered at the Ordination of John Codman, Dorchester, 
 1808. A Sermon preached in Boston, on the Day of the Public Fast, 
 1810. A Sermon preached in Boston on the Day of the Public Fast, 
 appointed by the Executive of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, in 
 consequence of the Declaration of War against Great Britain, 1812. A 
 Sermon preached in Boston on the Day of Humiliation and Prayer, 
 appointed by the President of the United States, in consequence of the 
 Declaration of War against Great Britain, 1812. Two Sermons on Infi- 
 delity, 1813. A Discourse delivered in Boston, at the Solemn Festival, in 
 commemoration of the Goodness of God in delivering the Christian World 
 from Military Despotism, 1814. A Sermon on the State of the Country, 
 delivered in Boston, 1814. A Letter to the Rev. Samuel C. Thacher, on 
 the Aspersions contained in a Late Number of the Panoplist, on the Minis- 
 ters of Boston and the Vicinity, 1815. Remarks on the Rev. Dr. Wor- 
 cester's Letter to Mr. Charming on the " Review of American Unitarian- 
 ism," in a late Panoplist, 1815. Remarks on the Rev. Dr. Worcester's 
 Second Letter to Mr. Channing on American Unitarianism, 1815. Reli- 
 gion a Social Principle : A Sermon delivered in Boston, 1820. 
 
 In addition to the above, Dr. Channing wrote all the Reports of the 
 Massachusetts Bible Society from 1812 to 1820, with a single exception, 
 together with some, other less extended occasional Reports, and was a lib- 
 eral contributor to the Christian Disciple, while it was under the editorial 
 charge of Dr. Noah Worcester. 
 
 Of Dr. Channing's views of Christian doctrine I do not feel myself 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 367 
 
 competent to testify, other than by presenting a few extracts from his 
 writings at different periods of his ministry. The extracts have been sub- 
 mitted to a prominent Unitarian clergyman, who has expressed the opinion 
 that they form as faithful a representation of Dr. C's religious views as 
 can be condensed within a few paragraphs. 
 
 The following is from a Sermon on Ministerial Earnestness, preached at 
 the Ordination of John Codman, at Dorchester, in December, 1808 : — 
 
 " Fourthly, as another most solemn incitement to earnestness, let a minister con- 
 sider the dangerous circumstances of his people. To whom is he sent to preach? 
 To men of upright hearts, disposed to receive and obey the truth which guides to 
 Heaven? To men before whom the future is arrayed in light, and who are surrounded 
 only with objects friendly to peace and improvement ? Ah no ! He is called to guide 
 a wandering flock through a thorny rugged wilderness, beset with snares and beasts 
 of prey, and, on this side and on that, terminated by abrupt and hidden precipices. 
 He is sent to a world of sinners, in whose hearts lurk idolatry, sensuality, pride and 
 every corruption. He is sent to many who are bound in fetters of iron and are per- 
 ishing with the most loathsome diseases. He is indeed sent with balm for their wounds, 
 with light and hope and consolation. But there are those, and sometimes not a few, 
 who turn away from the proffered aid. Even among the decent and regular, he sees 
 his most solemn instructions crowded out of the mind, and the most hopeful impres- 
 sions worn away, by the cares and pleasures of the world. He sees immortal beings, 
 committed to his care, advancing with rapid steps to the brink of an abyss, from which 
 they are never to arise, and can he be unconcerned? Can he read of that Are which 
 is never quenched, of that worm which never dies, and yet see without emotion fel- 
 low-beings, with whom he sustains the tenderest connections, hastening forward to this 
 indescribable ruin? My Christian brethren, when we look on the people of our charge, 
 can we hope that every soul is safe, that the sigh of acceptable penitence has ascended 
 from every heart? Are none living without God? And is it not a thought unutterably 
 affecting, that these are all trembling on the verge of the grave, that soon, very soon, 
 one or another will be forever removed from the reach of our warning voice, to receive 
 an irreversible sentence from the righteous Judge ? Negligent minister, look forward 
 to the tribunal of God Behold a human being there condemned, whom thy neglect has 
 helped to destroy. In that countenance of anguish and despair, which might have 
 beamed with all the light and purity of heaven; in that voice of weeping and wailing, 
 which might have sung the sweet and happy strains of angels, see and hear the ruin 
 
 which thou hast made: and canst thou yet be slothful and unconcerned? 
 
 *********** 
 
 * * * Lastly, let the minister of Christ be excited to an earnest and affectionate 
 discharge of his duties by the consideration that his own eternal interests are involved 
 in it. A minister has a soul to save as well as his people. Like them, he is spending 
 life in the presence of his Judge. Like them, he has a work assigned, an account to 
 render, a probation on which eternity depends. Soon his pastoral relation will be dis- 
 solved, his period of usefulness be closed, and he must meet the Chief Shepherd the 
 Head of the Church, to answer for the trust assigned him. Of all men a cold negligent 
 minister has the darkest prospects. It is the whole tendency of his life to form him to 
 peculiar blindness and hardness of heart. By repeating often, with hypocritical formality, 
 the tenderest expressions and the most animating motives, his conscience becomes pecu- 
 liarly seared. The most alarming threatenings become too familiar to move him. With 
 moral feelings thus depraved, that decency of life to which his profession almost compels 
 him, easily passes with him for true religion. He dies, as he lived, self deceived. Need I 
 describe to you his anguish on that day, which will prove him a false, heartless minister 
 of Jesus Christ, which shall discover to him many souls lost through his neglect; in which 
 the searching eyes of Jesus shall be fixed on him with righteous indignation; in which he 
 shall hear the voice of the Saviour saying to him, — ' Behold the inestimable souls for 
 which my blood was shed, which I committed to your care, but which your negligence 
 has helped to destroy. Depart with them far from me into everlasting fire.' scene 
 of agony ! Let us, my friends, hold it to our minds till it shall have exerted its full 
 power ; and then let us turn for relief to a brighter prospect. Contemplate the char- 
 acter and rewards of the faithful minister of the Gospel. The affectionate pious la- 
 bours in which he is daily engaged have a peculiarly ameliorating influence on his 
 heart, by continually awakening the sentiments of kindness and devotion. The truths 
 and impressions, which he so zealously communicates, are reflected back on his own 
 soul, and .he is himself most improved, whilst he labours to improve his fellow-beings. 
 With what joy will such a minister stand before the judgment seat of Christ! With 
 what joy will he meet again his Christian friends, the objects of his former solicitude, 
 safe from every temptation in a happier world ! Think ye, my friends that the over- 
 
368 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 flowing gratitude of men whom he has guided to Heaven; think ye that the mild coun- 
 tenance of his Redeemer beaming on him with complacency ; think ye that the hum- 
 ble hope of having swelled the everlasting joys of Heaven, will give no thrill to his 
 pure heart? Behold his fidelity approved by his Merciful Judge. Behold him en- 
 trusted with new talents and powers, exalted to be the minister of Divine benevolence 
 in other worlds, perhaps united with the beings whom he instructed on earth, in ac- 
 complishing purposes of love too vast for the most expansive imagination to embrace. 
 Glorified servant of God, our lifted eyes toil in vain to follow thee in thy rapid and 
 eternal progress towards Divine perfection. God almighty ! God most merciful ! 
 Grant to us thy servants, that, by our earnest faithful ministry, we may ensure that 
 glory which eye hath not seen, nor heart conceived, but which thine infinite grace hath 
 prepared for the sincere and devoted preachers of thine holy word." 
 
 The following is an extract from the Letter addressed by Dr. Channing 
 to the Rev. Samuel Cooper Thacher " on the Aspersions contained in a 
 late number of the Panoplist, on the Ministers of Boston and the Vicinity," 
 in 1815 :— 
 
 "As to myself, I have ever been inclined to cherish the most exalted views of Jesus 
 Christ, which are consistent with the supremacy of the Father ; and I have felt it my 
 duty to depart from Mr. Belsham in perhaps every sentiment which is peculiar to him 
 on this subject. I have always been pleased with some of the sentiments of Dr. "Watts 
 on the intimate and peculiar union between the Father and the Son. But I have al- 
 ways abstained most scrupulously from every expression which could be construed 
 into an acknowledgment of the Trinity. My worship and sentiments have been Uni- 
 tarian in the proper sense of that word. In conversation with my people, who have 
 requested my opinion upon the subject, I have spoken with directness and simplicity. 
 Some of those who differ from me most widely, have received from me the most ex- 
 plicit assurances of my disbelief of the doctrine of the Trinity, and my views in rela- 
 tion to the Saviour. As to my brethren in general, never have I imagined, for a mo- 
 ment, from their preaching or conversation, that they had the least desire to be con- 
 sidered as Trinitarians; nor have I ever heard from them any views of God or of Jesus 
 Christ, but Unitarian in the proper meaning of that word." 
 
 In his Sermon at the Ordination of Jared Sparks, in Baltimore, in 1819, 
 Dr. Channing says : — 
 
 11 We have no desire to conceal the fact that a difference of opinion exists among 
 us in regard to an interesting part of Christ's Mediation; I mean in regard to the pre- 
 cise influence of his death on our forgiveness. Some suppose that this event contrib- 
 utes to our pardon, as it was a principal means of confirming his religion, and of giv- 
 ing it a power over the mind ; in other words, that it procures forgiveness by leading 
 to that repentance and virtue, which is the great and only condition on which forgive- 
 ness is bestowed. Many of us are dissatisfied with this explanation, and think that the 
 Scriptures ascribe the remission of sins to Christ's death with an emphasis so peculiar 
 that we ought to consider this event as having a special influence in removing punish- 
 ment, as a condition or method of pardon, without which repentance could not avail 
 us, at least to that extent which is now promised by the Gospel. 
 
 '■ Whilst, however, we differ in explaining the connection between Christ's death and 
 human forgiveness, a connection which we all gratefully acknowledge, we agree in re- 
 jecting many sentiments which prevail in regard to his Mediation. The idea which is 
 conveyed to common minds by the popular system, that Christ's deathhas an influence 
 in making God placable or merciful, in quenching his wrath, in awakening his kind- 
 ness towards men. we reject with horror. "We believe that Jesus, instead of making 
 the Father merciful, is sent by the Father's mercy to be our Saviour; that He isnotli- 
 ing to the human race but what He isby God's appointment; that He communicates noth- 
 ing but what God empowers Him to bestow ; that our Father in Heaven is originally, 
 essentially, eternally placable and disposed to forgive; and that his unborrowed, unde- 
 rived and unchangeable love is the only fountain of what flows to us through his Son. 
 We conceive that Jesus is dishonoured, not glorified, by ascribing to Him an influence 
 which clouds the splendour of Divine benevolence." 
 
 The following paragraphs are from Dr. Channing's Discourse, delivered 
 at the Dedication of the Second Congregational Unitarian Church in New 
 York, in 1826 ■— 
 
 " I know it is said that Trinitarianism magnifies God's mercy, because it teaches that 
 He Himself provided the substitute for the guilty. But I reply that the work here as- 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 369 
 
 cribed to mercy is not the most appropriate, nor most fitted to manifest it and impress 
 it on the heart. This may be made apparent by familiar illustrations- Suppose that a 
 creditor, through compassion to certain debtors, should persuade a benevolent and opu- 
 lent man to pay him in their stead. Would not the debtors see a greater mercy, and feel 
 a greater obligation, if they were to receive a free, gratuitous release? And will not 
 their chief gratitude stray beyond the creditor to the benevolent substitute? Or suppose 
 that a parent, unwilling to inflict a penalty on a disobedient but feeble child, should 
 persuade a stronger child to bear it — Would not the offender see a more touching 
 mercy in a free forgiveness, springing immediately from a parent's heart, than in this 
 circuitous remission ? And will he not be tempted to turn with his strongest love to 
 the generous sufferer ? In this process of substitution of which Trinitarianism boasts 
 so loudly, the mercy of God becomes complicated with the rights and merits of the^ 
 substitute, and is a more distant cause than these in our salvation. These are nearer, 
 more visible, and more than divide the glory with grace and mercy in our rescue. 
 They turn the mind from mercy, as the only spring of its happiness, and only rock of 
 its hope. Now this is to deprive piety of one of its chief means of growth and joy. 
 Nothing should stand between the soul and God's mercy. Nothing should share with 
 mercy the work of our salvation. Christ's intercession should ever be regarded as an 
 application to love and mercy, not as a demand of justice, not as a claim of merit. 
 I grieve to say that Christ, as now viewed by multitudes, hides the lustre of that very 
 attribute, which it is his great purpose to display. I fear that, to many, Jesus wears 
 the glory of a more winning, tender mercy than his Father ; and that He is regarded 
 as the sinner's chief resource. 
 
 " Trinitarians imagine that there is one view of their system, peculiarly fitted to 
 give peace and hope to the sinner, and consequently to promote gratitude and love. 
 It is this. They say it provides an infinite substitute for the sinner, than which noth- 
 ing can give greater relief to the burdened conscience. Jesus, being the second per- 
 son of the Trinity, was able to make satisfaction for sin; and what, they ask, in tjni- 
 tarianism, can compare with this ? I have time only for two brief replies. And, first, 
 this doctrine of an infinite-satisfaction, or, as it is improperly called, of an infinite 
 atonement, subverts instead of building up hope, because it argues infinite severity in 
 the government which requires it. Did I believe what Trinitarianism teaches, that not 
 the least transgression, not even the first sin of the dawning mind of the child, should 
 be remitted without an infinite expiation, I should feel myself living under a legisla- ' 
 tion unspeakably dreadful; under laws written, like Draco's, in blood; and, instead 
 of thanking the Sovereign for providing an infinite substitute, I should shudder at the 
 attributes which render this expedient necessary. It is commonly said that an infinite 
 atonement is needed to make due and deep impressions of the evil of sin. But He 
 who framed all souls, and gave them their susceptibilities, ought not to be thought so 
 wanting in goodness and wisdom as to have constituted a universe which demands so 
 dreadful and degrading a method of enforcing obedience as the penal sufferings of a 
 God. This doctrine of an infinite substitute, suffering the penalty of sin, to manifest 
 God's wrath against sin, and thus to support his government, is, I fear, so familiar to 
 us all that its monstrous character is overlooked. Let me then set it before you in 
 new terms, and by a new illustration ; and if, in so doing, I majj wound the feelings 
 of some who hear me, I beg them to believe that I do it with pain, and from no im- 
 pulse but a desire to serve the cause of truth. Suppose, then, that a teacher should 
 come among you and should tell you that the Creator, in order to pardon his own 
 children, had erected a gallows in the centre of the universe, and had publicly ex- 
 ecuted upon it, in room of the offenders, an Infinite Being, the partaker of his own Su- 
 preme Divinity ; suppose Him to declare that this execution was appointed as a most 
 conspicuous and terrible manifestation of God's justice and wrath, and of the infinite 
 wo denounced by his law ; and suppose Him to add that all beings in Heaven and 
 earth are required to fix their eyes on this fearful sight, as the most powerful enforce- 
 ment of obedience and virtue. Would you not tell him that he calumniated his 
 Maker ? Would you not say to him that this central gallows threw gloom over the 
 universe ; that the spirit of a government whose very acts of pardon were written in 
 such blood, was terror, not paternal love ; and that the obedience which needed to be 
 upheld by this horrid spectacle was nothing worth ? Would you not say to him that 
 even you, in this infancy and imperfection of your being, were capable of being wrought 
 upon by nobler motives, and of hating sin through more generous views ; and that 
 much more the angels, those pure flames of love, need not the gallows and an executed 
 God to confirm their loyalty ? You would all so feel at such teaching as I have sup- 
 posed ; and yet how does this differ from the popular doctrine of atonement ? Ac- 
 cording to this doctrine, we have an infinite Being sentenced to suffer, as a substitute, 
 the death of the cross, a punishment more ignominious and agonizing than the gal- 
 lows, a punishment reserved for slaves and the vilest malefactors ; and lie suffers this 
 punishment that He may show forth the terrors of God's law, and strike a dread of 
 sin through the universe. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 24 
 
370 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 " I am indeed aware that multitudes who profess this doctrine, are not accustomed to 
 bring it to their minds distinctly in this light ; that they do not ordinarily regard the 
 death of Christ as a criminal execution, as an infinitely dreadful infliction of justice, 
 as intended to show that, without an infinite satisfaction, they must hope nothing from 
 God. Their minds turn by a generous instinct from these appalling views, to the love, 
 the disinterestedness, the moral grandeur and beauty of the sufferer ; and through 
 such thoughts they make the Cross a source of peace, gratitude, love and hope; thus 
 affording a delightful exemplification of the power of the human mind to attach itself 
 to what is good and purifying in the most irrational system. But let none, on this 
 account, say that we misrepresent the doctrine of atonement, the primary and essen- 
 tial idea of which is the public execution of a God, for the purpose of satisfying jus- 
 tice and awakening a shuddering dread of sin." 
 
 This last sentence was modified in the second and all subsequent editions 
 of the Sermon as follows : — ■ 
 
 '" Not a few may shudder at the illustration which I have here given ; but in what 
 respects it is unjust to the popular doctrine of atonement I cannot discern. I grieve 
 to shock sincere Christians of whatever name; but I grieve more for the corruption of 
 our common faith, which I have now felt myself bound to expose." 
 
 The following is an extract from a Lecture on War, delivered by Dr. 
 Clianning in 1839 : — 
 
 " God has ordained that the wickedness within us shall always find its expression 
 and punishment in outward evil. War is nothing more than a reflection and image 
 of the soul. It is the fiend within, coming out. Human history is nothing more than 
 the inward nature manifested in its native acts and issues. Let the soul continue 
 unchanged ; and, should war cease, the inward plague would still find its way to the 
 surface. The infernal fire at the centre of our being, though it should not break forth 
 in the wasting volcano, would not slumber, but by other corruptions, more insensible, 
 yet not less deadly, would lay waste human happiness." 
 
 In the Address on the Anniversary of Emancipation in the British West 
 Indies, which he delivered at Lenox, a few weeks only before his death, 
 we find the following paragraphs : — 
 
 "All the doctrines of Christianity are more and more seen to be bonds of close, 
 spiritual, reverential union between man and man, and this is the most cheering view 
 of our time. Christianity is a revelation of the infinite, universal, parental love of 
 God towards the human family, comprehending the most sinful, descending to the most 
 .fallen, and its aim is to breathe the same love into its disciples. It shows us Christ 
 pasting death for every man, and it summons us to take the cross, or to participate in 
 his sufferings in the same cause. Its doctrine of immortality gives infinite worth to 
 every human being; for every one is destined to this endless life. The doctrine of 
 the ' Word made flesh' shows us God uniting Himself most intimately with our nature, 
 manifesting Himself in a human form for the very end of making us partakers of his 
 own perfection. The doctrine of Grace, as it is termed, reveals the Infinite Father, 
 imparting, his Holy Spirit, the best gift He can impart, to the humblest human being 
 who implores it. Thus love and reverence for human nature, a love for man stronger 
 ■than death, is the very spirit of Christianity. 
 
 " The song of angels, ' On earth Peace.' will not always sound as fiction. come, 
 •thou Kingdom of Heaven, for which we daily pray! Come, Friend, and Saviour of 
 the race, who didst shed thy blood on the cross to reconcile man to man and Earth to 
 Heaven ! Come ye predicted ages of righteousness and love, for which the faithful 
 have so long yearned! Come Father Almighty, and crown with thine Omnipotence 
 the humble strivings of thy children to subvert oppression and wrong, to spread light 
 and freedom, peace and joy, the truth and spirit of thy Son, through the whole 
 earth." 
 
 FROJI THE REV. EDWARD W. HOOKER, D. D. 
 
 East Windsor Hill, Conn., June 9, 1849. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir : Absence from home, and pressing engagements when at 
 home, have delayed my reply to yours of the 21st. of May. And I regret it 
 the more, as I shall be unable to give you much information which will be of 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 371 
 
 use to you, relative to Dr. Charming, as he appeared in his last illness. I 
 will, however, cheerfully communicate to you every thing on the subject that 
 I remember. 
 
 I saw Dr. Channing after his arrival at Bennington but three times ; and 
 those before he was supposed to be dangerously ill ; and my visits were brief. 
 The first was a call of but a few moments, — that I might receive from him a 
 letter of introduction, which I was informed he had for me, from Mr. Charles 
 Sedgwick, of Lenox, a cousin of mine, in whose family Mrs. Channing and 
 himself had visited while in Berkshire County. I recollect nothing of par- 
 ticular interest at this call. 
 
 My second was perhaps of half an hour's length, and under better circum- 
 stances for conversation. He was sitting up, and apparently comfortable, 
 though feeble. He had visited, with Mrs. Channing, different places in Berkshire 
 County, and had taken Bennington in his route in Vermont. Very naturally, 
 therefore, as a man of taste, he spoke of the scenery of the two Counties, which 
 is unusually diversified, beautiful, and, at some points, sublime. I was es- 
 pecially gratified to observe that he seemed to be looking at the country through 
 which he was passing, not alone with the eyes of a lover of fine scenery, but 
 as interesting himself in studj'ing the moral aspects of the people. Among 
 other things, I remember he spoke of their being (to use his own expression) 
 << apparent!}' a religious people." 
 
 I do not recollect any thing in his conversation at this time which indicated 
 his views distinctively on matters of religious belief. Bat on the subject of 
 Christian practice, and a high standard of Christian morals in those profes- 
 sing religion, and on the importance of living in consistency with their relig- 
 ious professions, he spoke with an explicitness and earnestness with which I 
 was exceedingly gratified. If I recollect aright, this topic of conversation 
 came up in connection with the subject of fraudulent bankruptcy, as having 
 appeared in commercial circles, in the case of even some professing to be 
 Christians. It was obvious that he had thought and been solicitous upon the 
 subject of Christian integrity in the business transactions of life. Some in- 
 quiries also which he made of me, relative to two persons residing in our 
 vicinity, whom he had met at the Springs, and who had invited Mrs. 0. and 
 himself to visit them, if they came to Bennington, indicated that he was cau- 
 tious of cultivating acquaintance with any, however wealthy, or fashionable, 
 or courteous to himself, of whose character for strict virtue he did not feel 
 confident. His whole demeanour in conversation was such as becomes the 
 ministerial character and profession: serious, and yet in as good degree cheer- 
 ful as could be expected in one whose state of health was so delicate. 
 
 I left home, a day or two after this second call, to attend the meeting of the 
 American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, at Norwich, Conn. 
 Supposing it probable that he would be able to resume his journey in a few 
 days, and be gone on his way before my return, I had no expectation of see- 
 ing him again during his sojourn in Bennington at that time. I was absent a 
 week or more, and, on my return, found that he was still at the hotel, and 
 that his malady had become more serious. I called on him as soon as practi- 
 cable and had another interview with him. He was on his bed, and I could 
 see that he had grown more feeble during my absence ; but he received me in 
 a very friendly manner, and seemed gratified that I had called again to see 
 him. On my mentioning, as a reason why I had not called to see him before, 
 that I had been absent to attend the meeting of the American Board, he in- 
 quired of me respecting the meeting, and asked me to give him some account of 
 it. I did so, so far as to describe briefly its principal features, especially the 
 spirit that pervaded it, and the general prospects of the missionar}' enterprise as 
 connected with the Board. I do not recollect any remarks which he made on 
 
372 UNITAKIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 the subject. Indeed, just as I had finished answering his inquiries, his phy- 
 sician, Dr. Swift, came into the apartment, and of course I resigned my place 
 at the bedside to him, and waited till he had made his professional visit. Dr. 
 Swift, as he was leaving the room, remarked to me that Dr. Channing's ner- 
 vous system was in so delicate a state that he would advise me not to pro- 
 tract my call. I thought it best, therefore, to take my leave of him for that 
 morning, and retired at the same time with Dr. Swift. This was the last time 
 that I saw Dr. Channing ; for, though I called at his room afterwards, at two 
 or three different times, to see him, if it were proper, I was informed that he 
 was too feeble to admit of it, and of course retired without seeing him. 
 
 Learning from Dr. Swift, from day to day, that Dr. Ghanning was gradu- 
 ally sinking, and at length that he probably could not recover, I inquired if he 
 was aware of his situation, and how he seemed affected in the prospect of 
 death. Dr. Swift replied that Dr. C. had, a few days before, requested him 
 to tell him frankly what he thought of his case, and that he had expressed to 
 him his own and his brother's apprehension of a fatal issue, and had advised 
 him to send for any of his friends whom he might wish to see before his de- 
 parture. Dr. Channing's reply, as nearly as I can now recollect Dr. Swift's 
 statement, was to this effect — that it would have been his wish to have been 
 able to reach home, and die among his friends, but if Providence ordered 
 otherwise, he submitted to the allotment. On my way home from church on 
 the Sabbath when Dr. G. died, I met his nephew, the Rev. William H. Chan- 
 ning, who was attending upon him, and was returning from a walk, appar- 
 ently taken to refresh himself from the confinement of the sick room. I in- 
 quired of him respecting his uncle, and he told me that he was evidently 
 sinking rapidly. I asked if he seemed conscious of his situation : he replied 
 that the Doctor, though in great mental languor, had, some two or three days 
 previously, requested him to read to him Christ's Sermon on the Mount ; 
 that he read a part of it to him, and it seemed to comfort him ; and that, on 
 the following day, Dr. C. requested him to resume the reading of the same 
 portion of Scripture : from which he presumed that he was able to recollect 
 and connect things from day to day. I do not recollect any thing further men- 
 tioned by Mr. Channing. 
 
 Dr. Channing died, I believe, about sunset, of a delightful autumnal Sab- 
 bath. My congregation on that day were aware of his situation, and the fact 
 that he was dying in the hotel directly opposite our place of worship gave to 
 the exercises of the day a 'peculiar solemnity. I endeavoured to offer suit- 
 able supplications on his behalf as a distinguished stranger who had come to 
 die among us. No public religious exercises were held at Bennington in con- 
 sequence of his death ; and the whole train of circumstances, preceding and 
 attending the event, passed away with a solemn and affecting silence. 
 With Christian salutations, Yours truly, 
 
 E. W. HOOKER. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY, D. D. 
 
 Sheffield, May 11, 1848. 
 My dear Sir: You have asked me for my recollections of Dr. Channing. I 
 shall willingly devote some hours to retracing them, for they are among the 
 most interesting of my life; and the more willingly because to what I have 
 said of him in » public Discourse I am glad to append some things that belong 
 more properly to the freedom of epistolary writing. You will understand, 
 therefore, that I do not propose to go into any general views of his character 
 and writings, which I have already expressed elsewhere, as well as I could, 
 but to speak of him in a more familiar manner- 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 373 
 
 My acquaintance with Olianning commenced nearly thirty years ago, — just 
 as I was entering my profession. I passed several weeks with him in his 
 family at that time, and for more than a year often officiated in his pulpit; as 
 his health then, and indeed ever after, permitted him to preach but seldom. 
 He usually attended church, however, and it was not a little trying for a 
 young man to preach with such a presence as his in the pulpit. He was, how- 
 ever, a most considerate as well as sincere critic. It is characteristic perhaps 
 of the ablest men. I remember his saying of Buckminster that << he was the 
 most tolerant critic on preaching among his brethren." But Ohanning's judg- 
 ment on every subject certainly had singular weight, not only from its intrin- 
 sic worth, but because it was not eagerly put forward. It came in as a kind 
 of reserved force that decides every thing. At any rate, it was rather a formi- 
 dable thing to have in the pulpit. " I could not help thinking of him who 
 sat behind me," said one, << though my text was, < forgetting things that are 
 behind and pressing forward to things that are before.' " I remember his first 
 criticism on me was, " You address yourself too much to the imagination, and 
 too little to the conscience." Indeed, I always felt his presence to be the 
 sharpest inspection or the keenest trial of my thoughts. His mind was con- 
 stantly strained to the highest tension — he seemed not to know how to let it 
 down to ordinary chit-chat. It has been said, by a foreign critic, that << his 
 style was a naked thought." I might say that his presence was a, living 
 thought. Something like this, I imagine, might have been the impression of 
 one of the most eminent persons in this country, — himself conversant with 
 some of the ablest men on both sides of the water, who once said to me, " Mr. 
 Channing is the greatest man in conversation that I have ever met with — there 
 is no man to whom I listen with so much pleasure, nor to whom it is so hard 
 for me to speak when my turn comes." 
 
 For myself I do not well know what more rare or remarkable could cross a 
 young man's path than intercourse with such a, mind as his. It was a new 
 thing in my experience, and has stood alone ever since. For weeks I listened 
 to him and studied him as my sole business. In a quiet and low tone, with 
 little variety of intonation, without passion, without a jest, without laughter, 
 without one common-place remark, he went on, day after day, either pursuing 
 some one theme, as he often did for days, or, if descending to ordinary topics, 
 always surveying them from the loftiest point; of view, and always talking with 
 such mental insight and such profound emotion as penetrated the heart 
 through and through. There was a kind of suppressed feeling about him, far 
 more touching than any other manifestation could be; and 1 have heard one 
 say, who was well qualified to appreciate it, that it was sometimes difficult in 
 society to preserve the due decorum, to restrain the tears that rose, as he 
 talked in that subdued and touching tone, and especially on religious subjects. 
 
 It was, indeed, altogether a most remarkable thing, — his conversation; and 
 yet I do not know that I would have purchased it at the price he paid for it. He 
 stood alone — I found him embosomed in reverence and affection, and yet living 
 in a singular isolation. No being was ever more simple, unpretending and 
 kindly-natured than he, and yet no such being surely was ever sb inaccessible 
 ■ — not that he was proud, but that he was venerated as something out of the 
 earthly sphere. Scarcely any of his professional brethren, even those for 
 whom he had the highest esteem, had any familiarity or any proper freedom 
 with him. Even Henry Ware, possessing in so many respects a kindred 
 nature, said, — "I go to Channing, I listen to him; I go away; that is all." 
 One felt it necessary to sit bolt upright in conversing with him, and to strain 
 his mind as to a task. It was long before I could lounge upon his sofa, as I 
 talked with him, and say what I pleased. Something of this may perhaps be 
 referred to local influences. Our New England manners are proverbially cold. 
 
374 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Among the Southern gentlemen, you may have observed, — you may often see 
 it in Congress, — that when a man sits down by his friend to talk with him, 
 he throws his arm around his shoulders. Nobody, I think, ever did so 
 to Channing. Nobody, I imagine, ever said, on entering his study, " How 
 d'ye do, Channing ?" His own family, always, and most affectionately, called 
 him William, but the freer intercourse, the fonder leanings of friendship, 
 never went with him, I believe, beyond that charmed circle. I shall be curi- 
 ous to note, in his forthcoming biography, whether in his letters he ever 
 addressed any body, as "My dear John" — or "My dear Phillips." I 
 doubt whether he did; and yet he did not like isolation or formality. He 
 longed for freer actings of mind and manners around him. He used to say to 
 me, concerning a gentleman celebrated for his wit and agreeableness, — "I 
 
 want to see your friend, Mr. , I want to see him and hear him as you 
 
 do." But the wish was as vain as if he had desired to see a well-bred man 
 laugh in church. His presence, his spirit made a kind of sanctuary around 
 him. It was this, I suppose, that kept him in a degree isolated from almost 
 all the distinguished men of the country, and even of his own city. 
 
 And yet, I must repeat, nothing could be less intentional, or less desired, on 
 his part. Nothing could exceed his simplicity, his freedom from all preten- 
 sion and affectation. I first knew him as Mr. Channing; and I always called 
 him so. He did not like a title. He used to say he thought it a kind of injus- 
 tice, in a social circle, to distinguish one person in it by the title of Doctor, as 
 it would be by the title of Prince or Duke; though, to be sure, the title of 
 Doctor has become with us a thing of little enough mark or note. But why 
 should it be applied to the Clergy, in common parlance, more than it is to a 
 Doctor of Laws ? Let it stand in title pages and such places, if one pleases, 
 and be confined to them. A distinguished Professor once said, when called 
 in question for not giving Channing his title, — " I will not call such a man 
 Doctor." I wish the heavy and lumbering prefix, and now nearly unmean- 
 ing too, were dropped in universal conversation. But although Dr. Channing 
 did not care to be called Doctor, he still less cared to make an ado about it. 
 He did not like an ado about any thing. I may sslj, perhaps, that there was 
 a kind of apathy in him about little things, and things which to others pos- 
 sibly were not little. He seemed often insensible to the feelings of others, 
 partly from abstraction no doubt, and partly because he could not enter into 
 their feelings about himself. I was amused sometimes, when persons were 
 introduced to him, with many bows, and extraordinary demonstrations of 
 respect, to see him apparently as unconscious of it as the chair he sat in. 
 Yet he was a courteous receiver. It was not possible for a nature like his to 
 be discourteous, though it might be abstracted. Those that were with him 
 might think themselves neglected because he seemed to pay no attention to 
 some observation or question of theirs. This arose, sometimes from his not 
 hearing them; for his hearing in one ear was imperfect. But it was some- 
 times owing to abstraction. I have often known him to refer to the remark 
 that solicited his notice ten minutes after it was uttered. But, though ordi- 
 narily grave, and frequent^ absorbed, he would gladly have escaped oftener 
 than he did the spells of thought that were upon him. I think he unbent with 
 children more easily than with others. Though not specially fond of children 
 perhaps, yet he was alwa} r s most tender and affectionate to them; and I have, 
 more than once, seen my own driving him about the parlour for a horse, hold- 
 ing on to the skirts of his coat for reins. The notion which some persons 
 entertained that he was unnecessarily attentive to his own health was alto- 
 gether erroneous. I know that his extremely delicate constitution needed 
 singular care. If he changed his coat five times a day, as he did sometimes, 
 to him it was necessary. Doubtless his habits of abstraction and retirement 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING!. 375 
 
 might sometimes lead him to make mistakes that looked like a morbid care of 
 himself. A parishioner of his told me that he called upon him one April day, 
 — one of those days when the soft South-west wind breathes over the earth 
 the promise of spring, — and he said to Mr. Channing who seemed unwell, and 
 in low spirits, — " Why do you not go out, Sir, and take a walk ?" Channing 
 simply pointed through his study-window to the spire of Park Street Church, 
 which was in sight, and said, — Do you see that vane?" Yes," was the 
 reply " I see it; it has been stuck fast and pointing to the North-east for a 
 fortnight." This information dissolved the spell, and the invalid — for he 
 was never otherwise — went out and enjoyed a delightful walk. 
 
 His summers were spent almost invariably on the Island of Rhode Island, 
 near Newport. He usually paid us an annual visit at New Bedford, thirty 
 miles distant, commonly including u, Sunday among the days he spent with 
 us; preaching once, and making it harder for me to preach all the rest of the 
 year. On my returning one of these visits, I recollect finding him at a farm- 
 house, occupied by a tenant of the family near the beach. Almost the first 
 words he said to me were, << I am passing days here in questionings and 
 doubts." It was indeed a place in which to muse and meditate, amidst the 
 rise and fall of waters and the murmurings of the everlasting sea. I immedi- 
 ately replied, — for the incessant themes of our conversation did not allow me 
 to hesitate about his meaning, — ■< What ! have you any doubts about reli- 
 gion !" "No," he replied, " my doubts are about myself !" Oh, these sol- 
 emn doubtings — what honest and thoughtful mind does not at times feel their 
 cold shadow come over it! But about principles Channing was singularly 
 free from doubt. I once asked him if he had ever any doubts about immor- 
 tality. "I have none " was his reply; " I think my mind, from its struc- 
 ture, especially inclines to believing." It was doubtless true. Channing's 
 genius, if I may say so, was emphatically a religious genius. All his thoughts, 
 tendencies, conversations, ran irresistibly in that direction. I thiuk it was on 
 occasion of this same visit to which I have referred, that, after he had gone 
 on in his accustomed way for a day or two, I said to him, — ■•« I cannot bear 
 this any longer, I am not well; I came over here for relaxation — if you persist 
 in talking in this way, I must take my leave of you and go home." " Well," 
 said he, " let it all drop; let us talk about something else." But he could not 
 let it drop — he could not talk long of any thing else. 
 
 I ought to add that Channing's interest in every thing relating to the gen- 
 eral progress and welfare of the world was one of singular intensity. The 
 way in which he noted every indication, and signalized every fact, and scruti- 
 nized every opinion, that bore upon this subject, many must remember. And 
 in his mind eonservathe and liberal principles were strongly bound together. 
 He watched every project of reform with a lively and sympathizing interest, 
 and yet he was equally cautious, and more than one disappointment was expe- 
 rienced by the Reformers of the day because to their projects he could not give 
 in his entire adhesion. 
 
 I have thus attempted, my dear Sir, to comply with your request. I have 
 indulged in familiar details, because I suppose that such were sought from 
 me, in a communication of this kind, rather than general discussions of the 
 character and writings of Channing. This familiarity surely implies no want 
 of veneration. I feel that a high, a beautiful presence has passed" away from 
 me, which I hope to meet again in another world. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, with 
 
 Sincere regard, yours truly, 
 
 ORVILLB DEWEY. 
 
376 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. EPHRAIM PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Boston, June 15, 1852. 
 
 Dear Sir : My personal acquaintance with Dr. Channing, so far as it could 
 be made serviceable to the object which you have in view, was confined very 
 much to the single winter of 1837-38. During that time, I had what I es- 
 teemed a great privilege, — the opportunity of quite constant intercourse with 
 him. — I shall not attempt to give you an account of his life, nor any full 
 description of his character. Both of these things have been done and well 
 done, in his Memoirs, by his nephew, William H. Channing. To what he has 
 written little could be added ; and I think those most competent to judge 
 regard the view which he has given of his uncle, as not more affectionate than 
 it is just. It is a true portraiture of the man. 
 
 Of those qualities by which I was most impressed, one was the great inter- 
 est which he took in the young. He had himself preserved, through all the 
 experience of manhood, the fresh warm sympathetic heart of youth. He 
 loved to have the 3 r oung around him. He entered into their feelings, and 
 treated their opinions with a most respectful attention. The respect was sin- 
 cere ; the sympathy most hearty and genial. He knew how to attract the 
 young ; they came to him with the greatest confidence, unbosomed to him 
 their moral difficulties, and felt that his counsels were those of a friend, as 
 tender in his sympathies as he was wise in his judgment. I think there are 
 many now living, who would say that, under Providence, the most inspiring, 
 encouraging and elevating influence of early manhood and womanhood came 
 from a personal intercourse with him. In a singular degree, while he urged 
 on them the most rigid standard of duty, he was patient and encouraging; 
 and, while he set before them the highest ends, he knew how to stimulate and 
 encourage the feeble and faltering to attain them. 
 
 As one's intercourse continued, the next point which appeared most promi- 
 nently was. I think, the love of truth, — a peculiar openness of mind to new 
 views, a readiness in appreciating them, and a strong craving to reach the 
 truth. I remember his saying that when he was young, a great difficulty 
 with which he had to contend, was the way in which new subjects fastened 
 upon and tj'rannized over his mind, — depriving him of sleep, interfering with 
 his health until he was able, as it seemed to him, to see through and under- 
 stand them. His mind was judicial. Conversation with him was not a con- 
 flict of wits, but an instrument for investigating truth; not an argumentative 
 controversy, but an inquiry. On leaving him, you felt that } r ou had not been 
 learning how to maintain a side, but that j r ou had penetrated deeper into the 
 subject of discussion. He was, by taste, temper and habit, conservative; but 
 he kept himself always in the attitude of a learner, of one who desired and 
 wished to reach higher and clearer views of truth. This preserved the youth 
 of his mind, made him hospitable towards new ideas and pleasant to opinions 
 unlike his own. But these very qualities, and the extended inquiries to 
 which they gave rise, whenever he became satisfied that he had reached the 
 truth, made his convictions most profound and earnest. What he believed he 
 believed with his whole mind and heart. 
 
 In his search after truth, there was a remarkable blending together of the 
 intellectual and moral faculties. It is hard to explain in words what every 
 one felt who knew him. It was not merely that his mind speculated under 
 the control of his conscience, but the moral sense seemed to have penetrated 
 and transfused itself through and lifted up the intellect, till it had, in a 
 manner, absorbed itself in its powers, and subjected them entirely to its own 
 higher action. It was not so much a conscientious intellect as an intellectual 
 conscience. The simplicity, directness and wisdom which characterized his 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 377 
 
 views, were greatly owing to this harmonious action of his whole spiritual 
 nature. He shrunk from any injustice to the opinions of others, and from 
 statements and arguments in which truth is sacrificed to point and effect, as 
 most men shrink from direct falsehood in words, or dishonesty in action. 
 
 But the quality which, above all others, manifested itself on increasing 
 acquaintance with him, was the devotional habit of his mind. I do not mean 
 to compare him with others, but in him the sentiment of devotion was so re- 
 markable that I should select it as perhaps the most striking point of his 
 character. It was as simple and unostentatious as possible, but it was habit- 
 ual and all-controlling. As you came to know him well, you felt that his 
 mind kept habitually within the circle of light which shines down from above. 
 It appeared not in any single thing that he said, but in his whole way of 
 thinking and conversation. I remember finding him once in his study, read- 
 ing the Confessions of St Augustine. He told me that he made it a practice, 
 every day, to read, by himself, during a certain time, some strictly devotional 
 book, like the work then in his hand, or the writings of Fenelon, or the Gos- 
 pels, not for the purpose of speculating, but with the endeavour to enter into 
 their devotional meaning. He thought it a matter of great moment to enter 
 on the labours of the day, with the mind profoundly impressed with a sense 
 of the Divine Presence. He spoke of it with reference to the advantage to 
 one's self, but such was my impression of the devout and reverential tendency 
 of his mind, that I felt sure that, in his case, the habit had grown out of 
 his prevailing feelings, rather than the feelings out of the habit. Of course I 
 do not mention this custom as being either uncommon or peculiar, but as a 
 single illustration of his character. No one could have known him long with- 
 out believing that his thoughts never wandered far from the Divine Presence. 
 
 Perhaps that "which gives the highest idea of his character was the fact 
 that he occupied a constantly growing place in your respect, as you knew him 
 more intimately. There have been great orators, who were very ordinary men, 
 — persons whose whole moral and intellectual life seemed condensed into their 
 occasional public speeches, and who, between these public displays, moved on 
 a poor and low level of thought and purpose. "With Dr. Channing it was the 
 reverse. His writings were not exceptions to his life, but the natural, 
 unforced, and often incidental expression of his ordinary and common state 
 of mind. His common conversation was more genial and varied, but it was 
 pitched on the same moral key with his writings. There was no break or jar 
 between his public and private life. Never were writings more thoroughly 
 natural. They flowed off from the level of his mind. His conversation, 
 though varying to meet the occasion and sympathies of the moment, was of 
 the same quality with his books. His writings gave only a just idea of the 
 man. 
 
 Dr. Channing possessed one characteristic of greatness in a remarkable 
 degree, — the power of sacrificing that which was secondary and important 
 to that which was central and essential. It was in part owing, I imagine, to 
 his health. He was so frail that it seemed a. wonder that he lived from year 
 to year. He was capable of enduring but little labour. Among the many 
 calls upon him he was obliged to choose, and he conscientiously devoted his 
 whole strength to what he deemed the most important thing of the time. He 
 allowed no secondary matter to turn him aside from this. The result was 
 that, in spite of a state of health which most men would have regarded an 
 absolute sickness, in spite of weakness and depressing debility, he produced 
 works which seem to have made a permanent impression on the age. This 
 characteristic ran into all that he did. He was compelled to avoid many 
 occasions where his services were wanted. This often subjected him to severe 
 criticism, and, all the more, that, trusting to his rectitude of purpose, he 
 
378 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 never made excuses or apologies for the course he took. His life was a public 
 one, but he had no sensitiveness to public opinion, so far as it affected him- 
 self. I do not believe that there is a line in all his writings, which ever 
 received a different colouring from any thought of its influence on his own 
 reputation. He so put himself aside in this respect that he seemed like an 
 impersonal teacher. He wrote not for himself, but as one dedicated to truth, 
 and human welfare and God's service. 
 
 I should judge that he was not a great student in the German sense of the 
 term. He was essentially a thinker. A history of his life would be a his- 
 tory of his thoughts. He gained information more from men than books. His 
 society was sought by the most eminent men in different departments of life. 
 He loved to have intercourse with all kinds of men, and especially with those 
 whose ways of thinking were unlike his own. He had a singular faculty of 
 drawing from them their information and their views, and in his way he proba- 
 bly understood them better than if he had been acquainted with them only 
 through books. Owing to this, his intercourse with strangers had a pecu- 
 liarity, which sometimes made him misunderstood, and which often disap- 
 pointed them. They went to visit an eminent man. They found him anxious 
 not to exhibit himself, nor to delight them, but to draw from them what was 
 peculiar in their own views. In this way, notwithstanding his retired life, he 
 had a very large acquaintance with mankind, and to his personal acquaintance 
 with leading minds of the most various description I attribute the general 
 breadth and clearness of judgment which he exhibited on the more perplexed 
 social and moral questions of the time. 
 
 I had none of those opportunities which would enable me to give an account 
 of Dr. Ohanning's life, but, in accordance with your desire, I have endeavoured 
 to describe as accurately as I could the real impression which his character 
 made upon me. "What I have written may sound like eulogy, but in truth I 
 have understated rather than overstated that impression. I am sure that the 
 characteristics which I have mentioned are among those which will be regarded 
 as the most prominent, by all who knew him personally. Those who did not 
 know him, and who wish to understand him, will find his character in his 
 writings. The moral, religious, and humane tone of what he wrote, had its 
 origin, not in his intellect, but in his heart, and no more than represented his 
 prevailing and habitual mode of thought and life. 
 
 With great respect, 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 
 EPHRAIM PEABODY. 
 
 FROM MISS ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 Boston, August 18, 1858. 
 
 My dear Sir : I have delayed longer than I intended to fulfil my promise to 
 write you a letter concerning Dr. Channing. I do feel as if I knew him inti- 
 mately. My first impression of him was taken when I was about eight years 
 old. One Sunday morning, it had been arranged by my mother that I should 
 stay at home from church to take care of the baby, when, suddenly learning 
 that Mr. Channing was to preach, she sent for a friend to come to do that, 
 and took me to church. My father remonstrated at the pains she took, 
 because I was such a child. She replied, — " It takes Genius to really teach 
 a child." Going to church was a very tedious thing to me, but I got an idea, 
 on this occasion, that something extraordinary was to happen. I was sur- 
 prized at the little pale, sick-looking man; but I remember, when he rose to 
 pray, he looked up just before he shut his eyes, — those extraordinary eyes, 
 and there was such a sweet, bright, deep look in them, — a look so much as 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 379 
 
 if he saw something, that I was impressed with the idea of God's presence to 
 him. My father was a diffident man, and his morning prayer was always in 
 the same words — our old minister's prayers also were very uniform; Dr. 
 Channing's << Our Father! from everlasting to everlasting, (so he empha- 
 sized it,) thou art God; who hast loved us and sent us thy Son to tell us of 
 thy love," went thrilling to my heart with the conviction that he was really 
 speaking to a very present being that he loved. I am confident it was the first 
 time I had a realizing sense of an intercourse between a human being and God 
 in spoken prayer.- His prayers, as I afterwards found, were always for per- 
 sonal, spiritual help; — directed towards some intelligible human duty; — and 
 I remember I felt that it was the thing of things to have such kind of inter- 
 course with our Father in Heaven as he had. I thought he must have gained 
 it in his hours of bodily suffering, and reflected that such suffering might pro- 
 cure me a like privilege. 
 
 Some years after, I saw him again preaching at the Ordination of John 
 Emery Abbot, who became our minister, and, for two years, lived his life of 
 love and duty among us. He, too, had the gift of an angel in prayer; and I 
 associate the two together, for John Emery Abbot had prepared himself for 
 his profession under Dr. Channing's direction. "When he died, and we were 
 all in such grief as only the death of such a minister could inflict, Dr. Chan- 
 ning appeared again, and delineated, in glowing words, the character of this 
 extraordinary young man. A year or two afterwards, I went to Boston, on 
 occasion of the marriage of a friend who was to attend his church, and entirely 
 for the purpose of hearing him preach six weeks. His sermons were all 
 addressed as if to persons to whom Christian culture was the supreme object. 
 Not a word was said of any technical doctrine. They were upon patience, 
 self-denial, seeking or saving from sin those who were neglected by fortune 
 and education; and all enforced by the example of Jesus Christ. The plan 
 of the sermons was, after stating the desirableness of the Christian grace in 
 question, and the hindrances to it which inward dispositions or external cir- 
 cumstances might offer, to inquire how it was manifested in Christ, and from 
 what view of God and man it flowed in Him so full and free. In the interval 
 between which I had heard his first prayer and these sermons, I had heard 
 nothing which seemed to me so like the genuine food of the soul. The Unita- 
 rian controversy had arisen, and been settled by the division of the Congrega- 
 tionalists of New England in the mean time, and I had heard a great deal of 
 controversy, and my wits had sharpened themselves upon the points in dis- 
 pute, during which time I had become quite a logical, argumentative Humani- 
 tarian. But Mr. Channing's preaching took me quite out of that kind of 
 thought, and opened up the world of soul. Do not say I am talking of myself 
 and not of him. I want to impress you with the view of him which is most 
 characteristic. He took part, as we all know, in the Unitarian controversy, 
 and is considered by many as the leading Unitarian. 
 
 I was extremely intimate with him for years; for having subsequently 
 become the teacher of his only daughter, — in fact going to Boston to live with 
 this daughter as the nucleus of my school, his attention was drawn to me with 
 an earnestness derived from the carefulness of his paternal affections. Previ- 
 ously to the formation of this relation, however, I had opened a correspond- 
 ence with him, in consequence of becoming acquainted with the moral and 
 spiritual wants of a certain part of Maine, and thinking that it needed some 
 such instructions as I remembered having had from that six weeks' preaching. 
 But I had heard enough of Cambridge Divinity students to feel that their 
 preaching at that time was not the thing for that place. Their fine moral 
 essays and sentimental devotion — I do not speak scornfully — seemed to me 
 wholly unadapted to reach the rough and coarse, but earnest, hard-headed 
 
380 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 and hard-hearted pursuers of earthly good, who looked on their own children 
 mainly as live machinery for the production of wealth, and scouted all the 
 objects of thought that were not addressed to the appetites of the five senses. 
 But I was opposed, as a Rationalist and Humanitarian, to the revival 
 preaching which I heard there, and which seemed to me like a Syren song 
 addressed to the passion of self-love, after the self-respect of the soul had 
 become crushed out by fear. I thought the Cambridge students had the true 
 doctrine of morals and meant well, but did not know their field of duty, — the 
 naked human soul ; and that they would be waked out of their literary 
 dreams by the sight of this royal soul fettered in ignorance, and by the most 
 sordid and selfish passions; and so it was worth while for them to go there 
 and fail at first, to succeed afterwards. He sent for me at once to come and 
 see him, and discuss the plan I proposed; and almost the first thing he said 
 was, — "This Unitarianism, which some people think the last word of the 
 human mind, is only its first lisp, the vestibule of truth." I shall never for- 
 get this remark, — rising into a question, and most earnestly put, as if he 
 hoped I was not so benighted as to suppose that the statement of the creed of 
 Unitarianism was what was wanted in this very serious case of spiritual need, 
 which I had stated to him. I hastened to say, — " Oh I know it, Sir — Uni- 
 tarianism is only the negative of a Technical Theology, and the doctrines of life 
 are yet to be stated." His anxious look cleared away in a moment, and he 
 said, — << Yes, we shall walk in shadows to our graves, do the best we can. 
 I value Unitarianism only as a charter of freedom to seek Truth from God and 
 Christ, wherewith to meet the wants of the soul as it seeks the Truth and Per- 
 fection which is its destiny and happiness. "What you say of the ignorance of 
 the Cambridge students is very true — they have not studied much except in 
 books. They would be powerless in such a field as you describe — they 
 would do no good, though they would doubtless receive some. Could an expe- 
 rienced person go — Could I go!" he said most wistfully, (T have a record of 
 this whole conversation, which I at once committed to my journal, together 
 with several more, which were held in the commencement of our acquaintance, 
 but the rest is not to the present purpose.) The point I want to make impres- 
 sive is the sequestration of Dr. Channing from the whole region of Controver- 
 sial Theology. In my long acquaintance with him, although the Christian reli- 
 gion, as a practical power of real culture, and of social benevolence and duty, 
 including national interests, was, I may say, the perpetual theme of discourse, 
 and notwithstanding the controversial habits of our religious world, he very 
 seldom spoke of any other sect, except in the way of inquiry what truth they 
 probably had, which Unitarians were liable to miss through their reactionary 
 impulse. I never heard a word of scorn of any person, or a sneer, however 
 absurd he thought their views. If persons were of a timid disposition, or of an 
 anxious temperament, he did not think their opinion about religious doctrine 
 of any importance; because he thought these weaknesses inclined them to 
 dependence on the prevalent common creed, which he thought was driven into 
 people by a system of intimidation. I never saw a person who had such an 
 idea of the debasing effect of fear as he had. It was an emotion that, I think, he 
 never experienced, though he was a person of such extreme physical delicacy. 
 He said Fear was annihilation of man in its every degree, — the very opposite of 
 Reverence, which he used to say was an appreciation of the sublime, and our 
 very capacity of feeling it the measure of the angel within; for each of us was, 
 as he thought, destined to become an angel, whatever retributions we might go 
 through on the way to it, by reason of our estrangements from God. He used 
 to say that the agony of future retribution would be in proportion to our capa- 
 city of revering God, which, on the other hand, would constitute the bliss of our 
 happiness when we should attain to it. To be severed from God entirely would, 
 
"WILLIAM ELLERY QHANNING. 381 
 
 he said, annihilate at once pain and existence. He always averred that the Bible 
 was vastly fuller of the attractions of love than of the threats of retribution. Of 
 course he would say the latter must be recognized for fulness of statement; but 
 the former predominated, even in the Old' Testament. The principle of his doc- 
 trine of the dignity of human nature was his idea of the paternal nature of God. 
 He used to remark on the tenderness of Jesus Christ's personal addresses. A 
 soft-headed sceptic once, in my hearing, declared that Jesus Christ's address 
 to the Jews, — " Ye are of your father, the devil," was not the language of love, 
 &c. ' The man seemed to be stupid and really puzzled. Dr. Channing said " it 
 was the language of earnestness, not of vituperation;" and, going to his table 
 for the New Testament, he brought it out, and went over the whole para- 
 graph, explaining the situation, and most vividly calling out the whole scene 
 before the mind's eye. He paraphrased a little to explain the whole train of 
 thought; and proceeded, repeating the words of Jesus in the mostexpostulatory, 
 earnest tone. The gentleman said, — << Oh, Sir, if he spoke in that tone, I have 
 no further difficulty." Dr. Channing said afterwards, — " The words of the 
 Bible make a different impression, according to the tone in which they are 
 uttered. Our hearts mustgive the music of love, or it is profaned and killeth." 
 Such was his sense of the sacredness of a creature, capable of coming into 
 the presence of God consciously, that he shrunk from tampering with it, or 
 imposing himself upon it. He said once that " Jesus Christ's refusal to throw 
 Himself from the pinnacle of the temple in the sight of all the people, whose 
 imaginations such an act would have mastered, or to take the kingdoms of 
 this world, which his countrymen would have been so delighted that he should 
 do, showed that even the Son of God did not think it legitimate or pious to 
 take possession of men against their will, or in any other way than that of 
 love, which is perfect liberty. But foolish men rush in, with their love of 
 power, where angels fear to tread, and prove themselves, by this officious 
 rashness, the fools who say in their heart that there is no God. The 
 greatest thing that one human being can do for another, is to encourage him 
 with the idea that God is always coming to meet the prodigal son with the 
 best robe and the fatted calf, if he will only say, — < I will arise and go to my 
 Father.' Mahomet made a much greater immediate impression than Jesus 
 Christ. His power over his nominal followers to this day seems much more 
 complete. But it is the power of repression. Its symbol is prostration. 
 Jesus Christ gives power. Hence his burden is light and his yoke easy, and 
 his most devoted disciple seems to be unfettered and joyous, — eating the 
 fatted calf, and wearing the royal robe, as the Sovereign of this lower world. 
 How unlike those whom the Catholic Church call < the religious;' — whom any 
 Church that we have yet had, call < the religious !' How cowed and coward 
 are the tones of most prayers ! How different from the tone of Jesus Christ's 
 prayers at the Last Supper, — the only time of which we have any account of 
 his having prayed socially. He now speaks to his friends with the most 
 touching tenderness, now to his Father with a no less tender confidence. So 
 He would have all of us live with Him and God in the social meal, and in every 
 scene of life. The Kingdom of Heaven on earth is the absorption of power in 
 love. Religion like this casts out sin from the world. Who could hate his 
 brother ? Who could not act and feel so as to win all his confidence, and 
 encourage all his powers, that so vividly saw the many mansions of the 
 Father's House, where every variety of spiritual constitution could find a fit 
 habitation ? No wonder He wept over Jerusalem, which, with all its mad 
 zeal for what it called its religion, refused to follow after the things that 
 concerned its peace. Would He not weep if He should look upon Rome, or 
 New York, or Boston, on their religious high-days, and when they assemble 
 in their ecclesiastical councils ?" 
 
382 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In the last year of his life, my own mind was drawn to a view of Ortho- 
 doxy quite contrary to that which I had cherished for years. I began to 
 understand what truths were probably in the e} T e of those who had formular- 
 ized the Athanasian creed. In the first place, I thought I saw what the 
 original Trinitarians wanted to express respecting the nature of God and man; 
 and what the atonement meant to Luther and Calvin. My mind was very 
 strongly moved with these new ideas, and I seemed to seize hold of a philoso- 
 phy of religion that unlocked and explained mysteries of my own experience, 
 which the formulas of Unitarianism did not cover. There was a young man 
 who held the Trinitarian creed, but who repudiated very strongly what he 
 called " the strategy of the Orthodox Church," and the <• revival system," 
 with whose remarks I was often greatly struck, during the excitement pro- 
 duced by the development of Transcendentalism, under Mr. Emerson's lec- 
 turing, and of jYaturalism, under Theodore Parker's preaching: — (very 
 different things, by the way, though often confounded in people's minds; — 
 and there is certainty some relation between them). It is enough for my 
 present purpose, which is the illustration of Dr. Channing's characteristics, 
 to say that I was in the midst of this new turn of my thoughts, when, one 
 day, my venerable friend and my exciting young philosopher accidentally 
 met in my presence. Dr. Channing elicited from him a statement of the doc- 
 trine of irresistible grace, or unconditional conversion., I listened with a great 
 deal of interest to their conversation, which was quite an intellectual battle. 
 The next day he called again, and, laying his hand gently on my arm, he 
 said, — << I thought you looked solicitous during the conversation of yesterday. 
 I said, — " It was a very interesting subject, Sir; and, for the first time, I feel 
 as if I were really dealing with it. I never doubted, or I think questioned, 
 what freedom meant before." " I would not for the world interrupt or check 
 your thought," said he, very earnestly; "but is anxiety of mind favourable 
 to sound conclusions ?" «■ I think I am not anxious in the sense of fear, Sir, 
 but only in the sense of earnestness — I do not feel I have all the truth I need." 
 " I would not for the world throw a damp on earnestness of inquiry," he 
 said; "it is only by grappling with great questions that there can be any 
 progress. Nothing is so fatal as a notion that we have obtained all truth — 
 we need more than we have." He then made a remark on the subject — I 
 cannot recollect it precisely — but I remember it presented the idea that, in 
 accepting the young man's sentiment, a certain condemnation would be 
 involved of some other person. I said " Oh, Sir, I shall never obtain truth, he 
 saj'S, unless I risk that it damn all my friends." " He is right, he is right," 
 said he — " do not let me throw in the way of the single operation of your mind 
 one obstacle. Follow the light God seems to you to give, though it slay you. 
 It is only too likely that 1113- influence over your heart may hinder you in going 
 towards a truth which seems error to me; in which case my friendship would 
 prove a calamity to you." Not long after, I met him, and he said, — " Come 
 and see me; I want to know what you are thinking." I hesitated because in 
 truth I was trying to rid myself of my habitual ways of viewing subjects, in 
 order that I might get » clear view from a new stand point. I wanted to 
 think out certain new propositions, and I felt that those with whom I had 
 always sympathized could not aid me. He said kindly, — "You hesitate — 
 take your own time, but you know I am interested in what J do not think my- 
 seljj so if you hesitate because you are thinking another way from me, it is 
 misplaced." I went to see him a little while after, for I knew exactly how 
 he felt; and he said to me, — " What words of the New Testament have 
 acquired an}' new sense to you ?" I said, — << Paul's Epistle to the Romans 
 and to the Galatians, which seemed always somewhat whimsical in their ex- 
 pression before." He was lying on the sofa, but instantly rose up with the 
 
WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 383 
 
 most lively expression of interest, and seized the New Testament, put it into 
 my hands, and told me to read. I began, and read as expressively as I could. 
 He listened with devouring eyes. After a few moments, he said, — " Para- 
 phrase." I did so to the best of my ability, but very bunglingly. He took 
 the book, and paraphrased, and said,- 5 -" Does not that give the meaning ?" I 
 said, — " It seems to me I feel a difference in the idea." He said, — " What is 
 the difference ? There is no thought that cannot be expressed, if it is clear." 
 I tried to explain. He listened carnestty. At last he shut his eyes, and said, — 
 " I do not understand what you are trying to say — perhaps you do not 
 understand all I mean by my expressions." I said, — "Your expression is 
 so tine, it takes away my own thought; but I have a thought, though I do 
 not express it — it is your power of expression that masters mine." " Ah," 
 said he, anxiously," does it ? You know," he continued with a smile, " that 
 I have often said that eloquence is a snare. I will say no more. Get posses- 
 sion of your own thought, and do not let me hinder you. I should only 
 injure you by putting upon j'ou my mind's thoughts, even if it is the nearest 
 truth, and much more if it is not truth, or not the whole truth." After 
 this there was a tacit compact that we should not talk till I knew what I 
 wanted to say clearly enough to say it; and during the ensuing winter we did 
 not meet as often as usual, and never spoke of these subjects, but. only of 
 social ones. In the spring I went up to see him, and bid him good-bye before 
 he went into the country. After talking a while, I said, — " Well, Sir, I be- 
 lieve I must go." He was arranging his books — he turned and came towards 
 me with both hands held out — and, taking mine kindly, said, — « You look 
 well and happy." " Yes, Sir," said I, "I feel so." "Shall you write to 
 me this summer ?" I said, " I do not know, Sir;" and I did not; for though 
 I had become quite happy and clear in my own thoughts, I was not j'et ready 
 to discuss them with others. He looked very benignant, and said, — " Take 
 your own time; but if you learn any new truth from that young friend of 
 yours, or an}' other source, have not I the best right to know it, of all your 
 friends ?" 
 
 And that benignant sustaining look, and that question, are my last recol- 
 lections of Dr. Chauning. For that summer, the gentle but strong, earnest 
 but untyrannical, spirit returned to God who sent it forth on its peculiar mis- 
 sion. I had not written to him; but when a letter from his son-in-law told 
 me he was gone, it seemed to me that he was come nearer to me. I felt that 
 the difficulty of expression was now gone. Not by words, but by recognition, 
 possible to the disembodied, must my mind lie open to his inspection, accord- 
 ing to its most entire willingness and earnest desire. I had a conviction that 
 whether his or my paraphrase of Paul's Epistles was right, intellectually, 
 there was underneath both these intellectual operations an identical love and 
 desire for the truth. I believed that his faith had always transcended the 
 formulas of Unitarianism; his spirit had gone beyond the vestibule, even if 
 his intellect lingered in it. While I still held in my hand the letter that told 
 me of Dr. Channing's death, and my cheeks were wet with tears, Mr. Allston 
 suddenly entered the room. It was the rarest thing- to see him. He was in 
 pursuit of some artist's materials. I said, — << I have just received this letter, 
 which says Dr. Charming is dead." (Mr. Allston, you know, married a sis- 
 ter of Dr. Channing for his first wife, and Dr. Channing had always kept up 
 with him as intimate an intercourse as the mutual vocation of each would 
 allow; and although their religious views so far differed that, as Mr. Allston 
 told me, they never conversed on religion specifically, I knew Dr. Channing had 
 an enthusiastic appreciation of Mr. Allston's genius, and valued every manifes- 
 tation of it as precious. But I was not prepared for Mr. Allston's emotion.) 
 He went backward, turned even paler than usual, and sunk into a chair, 
 
384 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 covering his face with his hands. I felt self-reproached and frightened at my 
 abruptness. At last he spoke — << He was a good man — he was an excellent 
 man — I loved him." I said, at length, << You knew he was ill ?" " He was 
 often ill — I had ceased to think of his djing — he was a good man — he was 
 an excellent man!" He could not think about the errand for which he came. 
 I took his directions, and promised to do so for him. But it was a fortnight, 
 as I afterwards learned, before he got over the physical effect of the sudden 
 intelligence. "When I saw him again, he spoke of Dr. Charming freely. He said 
 hecaredforno one's interest and opinion about his pictures so much as Dr. Chan- 
 ning's. " He had a fine imagination," said he, " great delicacy of perception, 
 and comprehension of idea and sentiment. Colours and lines and clare ob- 
 scure were language as intelligible to him as if they had been his own organ. 
 And he was perfectly honest. He dared to believe in his own feeling, and he 
 expressed it severely, but never coldly. I always counted on his doing me 
 justice, and I never was disappointed. He could not flatter, but he was 
 generous in his expression of pleasure, which is the artist's only adequate 
 reward." 
 
 There is no time to stop, my dear Sir, as you see, on this theme. My let- 
 ter is already too long, and by no means what it ought to be, but I will send 
 it to show you that I have tried to comply with your request. You must take 
 the will for the deed, and get letters from those who knew hira so little that 
 they have not much to say. I feel as if, after all, I had hardly begun. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER * 
 
 1805—1812. 
 
 Joseph Stevens Bttckminster, a son of the Rev. Dr. Joseph Buck- 
 minster of Portsmouth, N. H., was born May 26, 1784. His mother was 
 the only daughter of the Rev. Dr. Stevens, of Kittery Point, and was dis- 
 tinguished alike for her talents, accomplishments and piety. The early 
 developments of this (her only) son were remarkable, perhaps in some 
 respects unprecedented. He began to study Latin at the age of four, and 
 was so desirous of studying Greek also, that his father taught him to read 
 a chapter in the Greek Testament by pronouncing the words to him. He 
 was distinguished also for the utmost conscientiousness and purity of inten- 
 tion. When he was less than six years old, his father, being about to leave 
 home on a journey, remarked to him that he must take his place in the 
 family, so far as he could. During his absence, Joseph, accordingly, spent 
 most of the time in the study among his father's books, and, when the hour 
 for family prayer returned, he regularly called the family together, read a 
 chapter in their hearing, and then knelt down and offered a prayer so 
 fervent and touching that even the domestics of the household found it 
 difficult te refrain from tears. 
 
 Until the age of ten Joseph remained at the Grammar School at Ports- 
 mouth ; but, in the year 1795, he was sent to Phillips Academy, Exeter, 
 •Memoir by Rev. S. C. Thaeher. — Memoir by Mrs. Lee. — MS. from Rev. Samuel Dana. 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 385 
 
 which, at that time, and for nearly half a century after, was under the 
 care of that eminent instructor, Dr. Benjamin Abbot. Here he was 
 scarcely less under the influence of his father than while he was under the 
 paternal roof; for he was constantly receiving from him letters of the most 
 judicious and affectionate counsel, descending to every minute circum- 
 stance that could have a bearing on his conduct or happiness. So rapid 
 was his progress that, at the age of twelve, he was well prepared to enter 
 College ; but his father, fearing that the influence of temptation, incident 
 to college life, would be too much for his extreme youth, was unwilling to 
 risk him at so early an age, and, accordingly, kept him back till the next 
 year. Meanwhile, it was a matter of anxious doubt with both the father 
 and son, whether his collegiate course should be at Harvard or Yale ; the 
 son, preferring the former, on account of some associations which he had 
 already formed at Exeter, and the father inclining to the latter, as his own 
 Alma Mater, and as most likely to secure to his son the religious influence 
 which he considered most desirable. The result, however, was that the 
 father waived his scruples, and, at the Commencement in 1797, Joseph 
 was admitted, at the age of thirteen, one year in advance, to Harvard Col- 
 lege. His examination for admission revealed his remarkable powers, and 
 left those of the Government of College who witnessed it, in no doubt 
 that, if his life was spared, he was destined to become a star of no common 
 brilliancy. 
 
 His college course fully realized, in its progress, all that was promised 
 at its commencement. He was not, indeed, distinguished for his attain- 
 ments in the abstract sciences, nor could he be said to be fond of them ; 
 and yet he made conscience of getting each lesson well in every depart- 
 ment. It was in the study of belles lettres, and whatever pertained to the 
 department of criticism, that he made the most marked proficiency. His 
 college " themes " showed a richness and gracefulness of mind, and some- 
 times an extent of reading, that was truly remarkable ; and his reading and 
 speaking were so inimitably beautiful and perfect, that it was very com- 
 monly regarded as a high privilege to listen to them. His Oration deliv- 
 ered at the Commencement, when he took his first degree, taken in connec- 
 tion with his very youthful appearance and beautiful form and face, quite 
 • captivated and entranced the audience. 
 
 After leaving College, he accepted the appointment of Assistant Teacher 
 in Exeter Academy. His mind seems now to have taken a more decidedly 
 serious direction, and it was about this time that he offered himself as a candi- 
 date for membership in his father's church. His father addresed to him 
 a faithful and excellent letter on the occasion, reminding him of the solem- 
 nity of the act which he was about to perform ; but seems to have had no 
 scruples about complying with his request. It does not appear that, up to 
 this time, he had formed any definite views of Christianity different from 
 those in which he had been educated. 
 
 During his residence in Exeter, as an Assistant Teacher, he commenced 
 a course of study with reference to the ministry, and it was here probably 
 that his mind began first to diverge from the faith of his fathers. It was 
 here also, in the autumn of 1802, that he was visited with the first attack 
 of that terrible malady, (epilepsy,) which finally carried him to his grave. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 25 
 
386 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 The following passage which he wrote in his journal, evidently intended for 
 no eye but his own, evinces a frame of feeling, in reference to this afflic- 
 tive visitation, which every one must approve and admire: — 
 
 " Another fit of epilepsy. I pray God that I may be prepared not so much for death 
 as for the loss of health, and perhaps of mental faculties. The repetition of these h'ts 
 must at length reduce me to idiocy. Can I resign myself to the loss of memory, and 
 of that knowledge I may have vainly prided myself upon? Oh, my God, enable me to 
 bear this thought, .and make it familiar to my mind, that, by thy grace, I may be 
 willing to endure life as long as thou pleasest to lengthen it. It is not enough to be 
 willing to leave the world when God pleases. — we should be willing to live useless in 
 it, if He, in his holy providence, should send such a calamity upon us. Oh, God! 
 save me from that hour ! " 
 
 As the labours which devolved upon him as an Assistant Teacher at 
 Exeter were considered an overmatch for his constitution, especially after 
 the fearful malady above referred to had made its appearance, it was 
 thought desirable that he should occupy some place where his faculties 
 would be less severely tasked ; and a favourable opening just at that time 
 presented itself in the family of his relative, Theodore Lyman, who was 
 glad to put his services in requisition in preparing two of his sons to enter 
 College. Mr. Lyman soon removed from Boston to Waltham, and Buck- 
 minster accompanied him ; and here he was surrounded with all the ele- 
 gance and luxuries of the most refined society. At this period he was 
 accustomed frequently to visit Boston, and he became particularly intimate 
 with Dr. Freeman, minister of the Stone Chapel, who was his relative by 
 marriage ; and it was the opinion of his father that it was owing, in a 
 degree at least, to this intimacy, that his mind had received a bias in favour 
 of Unitariauism. His admiration of Dr. Freeman seems to have been 
 well-nigh unbounded; and proposals were made to him, by the Doctor, to 
 which he seems to have been somewhat inclined to accede, to become asso- 
 ciated with him in the services of the Chapel. It was now that his father 
 became fully aware of his defection from the Orthodox creed ; and a cor- 
 respondence commenced between them, which was continued for a consid- 
 erable time, and which evinced the strongest parental affection and the 
 bitterest disappointment on the one hand, and the deepest filial reverence 
 and sensibility on the other. The father, more than once, advised his son 
 to direct his attention to some other profession, not dissembling at all his 
 conviction that he lacked the most essential qualification for the ministry ; 
 and the son, merely from a regard to his father's feelings, had at one time 
 nearly determined to devote himself to literary pursuits. But, as the father's 
 opposition seemed somewhat to relax, in the hope probably that his son's 
 views might change, he was finally examined and approved as a candidate 
 for the ministry, by the Boston Association. His first sermon was preached 
 at York, Me. , in the pulpit of his venerable relative, the Rev. Isaac Lyman, 
 on the 10th of June, 1804. 
 
 His intellectual developments had, previously to this, been so remark- 
 aide and so well-known, that the Congregation in Brattle Square, Boston, 
 then recently rendered vacant by the death of Dr. Thacher, immediately 
 fixed upon him as n suitable person to fill that important vacancy. Here 
 again, his anxious father was distressed at the idea of his occupying, at so 
 early an age, so public and responsible a station ; but his wishes were 
 overruled by the importunity of the congregation, who, from the beginning, 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 
 
 387 
 
 were enraptured by his eloquence, and resolved to leave no means unem- 
 ployed to secure him as their minister. The result was that he was called, 
 with great unanimity, to the Brattle Street Church, accepted the call, 
 and was ordained, and installed their Pastor, January 30, 1805, when less 
 than twenty-one years of age. 
 
 His father, though not without some reluctance, consented to preach the 
 Ordination Sermon ; and it must have been, in view of all the circum- 
 stances, a severe tax upon his parental sensibilities. In the course of the 
 sermon, he addressed the Pastor elect in the following significant and 
 touching manner : — 
 
 " My Son, the day has arrived, in which you are to be completely invested with that 
 office. Divine in its origin, important in its design, and beneficent in its influence, of 
 which you have been emulous in your earlier years, and which you have always kept 
 in view in your literary pursuits. While I have endeavoured to restrain your ardour, 
 and check the rapidity of your course, motives of concern for the honour of God and 
 for your reputation and comfort influenced my conduct. But a power paramount 
 to all human influence has cast the die, and I how submissively — 'God's will be 
 done ! ' 
 
 " In the hours of parental instruction, when my speech and affection distilled upon 
 you as the dew, you have often heard me refer to the cheering satisfaction with which 
 I presented you at the baptismal font, in the name of the Sacred Trinity, and enrolled 
 you among the members of Christ's visible family — would to God I might now lead 
 you, with the same cheering hope, to the altar of God, and lend you to the Lord as 
 long as you shall live. But the days are past in which you can depend upon the offering 
 of a parent. To your own Master you stand or fall. God grant the response may be, 
 — ' He shall be holden up, for God is able to make him stand.' " 
 
 To the Congregation he said, — 
 
 '•' The heart of a father, alive to the interests of a son, and not indifferent to the 
 honour of the Gospel, recoiled from the idea of his beginning his ministerial efforts 
 upon so public a theatre, and before so enlightened an audience ; and the hope that 
 longer delay and greater experience would render him more equal to the duties of the 
 ministry, and more worthy the esteem and respect of his fellow-men, induced me to 
 yield with reluctance to your early request to hear him as a candidate. But since your 
 candour and charity have silenced my scruples, and your affection and judgment have 
 become surety for the youth, and he himself hath said, ' I will go with you,' I yield 
 him to your request : Bear him up by the arms of faith and prayer. Remember him 
 always in your devotional exercises. May God have you and your Pastor within his 
 holy keeping ! May he shed down upon you unitedly his celestial dews, that you may 
 be like a. watered garden, and like a spring whose waters fail not !" 
 
 On the very day after his Ordination, Mr. Buckminster, owing probably 
 to the fatigue and excitement incident to the occasion, was seized with a 
 severe fever, by which he was kept out of his pulpit till the beginning of 
 March ; and the first sermon which he addressed to the congregation, as 
 their Pastor, instead of having special reference to the newly constituted 
 relation, was a sermon on the " Advantages of Sickness." 
 
 As soon as his health permitted him to return to his active duties, he 
 made it his business to become acquainted with all the families and indi- 
 viduals of his congregation, and recorded the names of all in a manuscript 
 book, together with such remarks in respect to various characters as might 
 serve to aid him in l\ pastoral intercourse. In addition to his numerous 
 duties as a n»i.an minister, he was connected with many of the public 
 interests of the day, atid especially was one of the- most active members 
 of a Literary Association, known as the " Anthology Club," which, at that 
 time, concentrated much of the literary talent of Boston and the vicinity. 
 It was by this Association that the " Monthly Anthology," a well-known 
 
388 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 periodical, which was continued through a series of years, was conducted ; 
 and it is understood that a considerable proportion of the ablest articles con- 
 tained in it were from the pen of Blr. Buckminster. Though the Anthology 
 was chiefly a literary publication, it was not altogether silent upon theo- 
 logical subjects ; and the history of the Unitarian controversy, for several 
 years, is to be traced very much through its pages. It sustained, at one time, 
 an attitude of pretty decided antagonism to the Panoplist, long the accredited 
 organ of the Orthodox party, and conducted by the venerable Dr. Morse. 
 
 The labours of the first year of his ministry had so far affected his 
 health, and his terrible constitutional malady returned with so much fre- 
 quency, that, in the spring of 1806, his physician, the elder Dr. Warren, 
 recommended that he should try the effect of a voyage to Europe. This 
 measure was finally concluded upon ; for his congregation were so much 
 devoted to his interests that they counted no sacrifice dear that seemed 
 necessary to his health or comfort. Accordingly, a little before the mid- 
 dle of May, he embarked for Liverpool, where he arrived on the 6th of 
 June, and proceeded thence immediately to London, where he was received 
 as a most welcome gueSt in the family of Samuel Williams Esq., the 
 brother of his friends, the Lymans. Early in August he was joined by 
 his intimate friend, the Rev. Samuel Cooper Thacher, of Boston, and, 
 shortly after, they embarked together for the Continent, and landed at 
 Harlingen, on the Zuyder Zee. They passed rapidly through Holland, 
 and part of Belgium, ascended the Rhine, and, partly on foot, made the 
 tour of Switzerland. Thence they proceeded to Paris, where they were 
 detained more than five months, in consequence of nearly all correspond- 
 ence with England being cut off by the operation of the Berlin and Milan 
 decrees. About the middle of February, he returned from France to 
 England, and, after spending the intervening months in travelling in dif- 
 ferent parts of Great Britain, reached Boston on the 10th of September 
 following. 
 
 Mr. Buckminster's tour in Europe he found a source of rich and con- 
 stant gratification. In the different countries which he visited new scenes 
 and objects were constantly passing before him, all of which he contem- 
 plated as a most careful and intelligent observer. He made the acquain- 
 tance of many of the most distinguished persons, both in Great Britain 
 and on the Continent, and on some of them at least, it is known that he 
 left an impression that led them to rank him among the most remark- 
 able men of his time. One important object which he kept constantly in 
 his eye was the selection of a library — much of his time and money were 
 spent in this way; and the result was that he brought with him to this 
 country perhaps the rarest collection of books that was then to be found in 
 any private library in New England. He was often solicited to preach in 
 Great Britain, and finally, in a few instances, consented to do so ; though 
 the reason which he gave for it was, not that he supposed his services were 
 particularly needed, but that he might not lose all familiarity with the 
 pulpit. His health, during most of the time that he was absent, was quite 
 vigorous, and his spirits buoyant, though the occasional returns of his 
 malady could not but fill him sometimes with gloomy forebodings in 
 respect to what might be its final issue. 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 389 
 
 On his return to Lis pastoral charge, it is hardly necessary to say that he 
 was met with the most enthusiastic demonstrations of good-will and affec- 
 tion. He seems to have been regarded by his congregation as if he had 
 been a son or a brother in each family which it contained ; and his first 
 meeting with them in the church was signalized as a sort of religious jubi- 
 lee. His Address on that occasion (for it could scarcely be called a Sermon) 
 was perhaps one of the most beautiful of all his productions. It was the 
 simple effusion of a splendid mind, and a confiding, loving and grateful 
 spirit. But with all the rejoicings of the occasion there was mingled some- 
 what of sadness ; for it could not be concealed that, however his general 
 health might have been improved by a year's rest and recreation, yet 
 there was no evidence that the disease, which had so long been acting as a 
 mysterious canker upon his constitution, was dislodged. 
 
 From this period to the close of his life there were few incidents in his 
 history of special moment. While he gave himself laboriously to the 
 duties of his profession, he cultivated continually his taste for literature, 
 and was ready to lend the aid of his pen to every effort designed to pro- 
 mote the literary interests of the country. He became a vigorous student 
 of the German language; and he drew upon his accustomed hours of sleep, 
 that his German studies might not occupy time that was needed for his 
 professional duties. He superintended the printing of Griesbaeh's edition 
 of the New Testament, and corrected several errors which had escaped in 
 previous editions. In 1811 he was appointed first Lecturer on Biblical 
 Criticism upon the foundation in Harvard' College, established by the Hon. 
 Samuel Dexter. This appointment he accepted ; but while he had yet 
 scarcely begun his preparation for the duties of the place, death put an 
 end to all his earthly labours. 
 
 Mr. Buckminster was at last arrested suddenly in his career. There 
 had been apparently no waning of his brilliant powers; though he himself 
 felt, in common with all his friends, that the seeds of early decay, perhaps 
 even of idiocy, were germinating in his constitution. " Election week," 
 as it used to be called, — now the "week of the Anniversaries," — came, 
 bringing with it to him more than the ordinary routine of duty; for he was 
 the Preacher that year before the '• Society for Promoting Christian Know- 
 ledge, Piety and Charity." The Sermon which he preached ou that occa- 
 sion, he repeated in his own pulpit on the succeeding Sabbath, and it was 
 the last sermon that he ever preached. On the next Wednesday, the 3d of 
 June, his malady returned upon him with a crushing weight, extinguishing 
 in an hour the last gleams of reason, and impressing on his case the stamp 
 of absolute hopelessness. During the six days that intervened between the 
 commencement and the termination of his illness, (for he died on the 9th,) 
 his house was continually thronged with anxious and distressed visitors ; 
 and when he died, it seemed as if the whole town went into mourning. It 
 may safely be said that few cases of mortality have occurred, which have 
 proved the occasion of such universal and protracted grief; for even now, 
 after the lapse of half a century, some who had but a transient acquaintance 
 with him, can hardly speak of his death without manifest emotion. The 
 Sermon at his Funeral was preached by President Kirkland, a part of which 
 
390 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 has been preserved in Dr. Palfrey's Discourses on the History of the 
 Brattle Street Church. 
 
 Mr. Buckminster's publications during his life were not numerous-. The 
 first was a Sermon published in January, 1809, on the death of Gov. Sul- 
 livan. It was one of his most splendid efforts; though it seems to have 
 been the subject of some animadversion at the time, on account of its 
 supposed political •bearings. In July of the same year he wrote the 
 Address of the Massachusetts Bible Society at its first formation, which 
 was afterwards republished, with high praise, in the Beport of the British 
 and Foreign Bible Society. In August succeeding he delivered the 
 Annual Address before the Phi Beta Kappa Society at Cambridge, which 
 was published in the Anthology. This Address was much spoken of at the 
 time, and illustrates at once his fine powers, and his various reading, better 
 perhaps than any other of his printed productions. In May, 1811 was 
 published his Sermou on the death of the Bev. William Emerson. This 
 contains splendid passages, but bears marks of haste, not discoverable in 
 any other of his acknowledged publications. Beside the preceding, he pub- 
 lished part of a Sermon on the Death of Governor Bowdoin, and the Bight 
 Hand of Fellowship to his classmate, Mr. Charles Lowell,* and was, as has 
 
 * Charles Lowell, a son of Hon. John and Rebecca (Russell) Lowell, was born in Bos- 
 ton, August 15, 1782. His father was an eminent lawyer, a member of the Convention which 
 framed the Constitution of Massachusetts, and was appointed, by Washington, Judge of the 
 District Court of that State. He (the son) was a student at Phillips Academy, Andover, 
 under Abiel Abbot and Mark Newman, three or four years, and was afterwards placed under 
 the instruction of the Rev. Zedekiah Sanger, in South Eridgewater, where he completed hia 
 preparatory studies, and entered the Sophomore class in Harvard College in 1797. After 
 graduating in 180 0, he studied Law one year, with his elder brother, John Lowell, Jr., and 
 then relinquished it for the study of Theology. In the autumn of 1802 he went to Scotland, 
 and entered the Divinity School of the University of Edinburgh, where he remained till the 
 spring of 1804, when he proceeded to London, having, in the mean time, attended the Lectures 
 of Dugald Stewart, and been on terms of intimacy with Thomas Brown, the Philosopher, 
 and several others, who afterwards rose to great eminence. After stopping a while in Lon- 
 don, and making the acquaintance of William Wilberforce, Bishop Porteus, and other persons 
 of illustrious name, he went to Paris, and there had frequent opportunities o^aeeing Napoleon 
 Buonaparte, just after he had been proclaimed Emperor. Having made a tour through Hol- 
 land and Switzerland, he returned to Scotland, and spent another winter in Edinburgh. In 
 the spring of 1805 he left Edinburgh; passed a little time with a maternal uncle at Clifton, 
 near Bristol, England; preached at Bristol and Hackney, and, in the course of the summer, 
 refThrned to his native country. He had expected to embark a week or two before he actually 
 did, but very reluctantly yielded to the persuasion of a friend to delay his departure — the 
 vessel in which he had intended to sail was lost in the ice. On his return home, he studied 
 Divinity, for a while, under the Rev. Zedediah Sanger, of South Bridgewater, and Dr. Tappan, 
 Professor of Divinity in Harvard College. He was ordained, and installed Pastor of the West 
 Church, Boston, on the 1st of January, 1806. He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity, 
 from Harvard College, in 1823. He continued sole Pastor of the church with which he became 
 connected, for more than thirty-seven years. His health having become feeble, Mr. Cyrus 
 Augustus Bartol was set apart as his colleague in March, 1837, but Dr. Lowell continued his 
 pastoral relation, — officiating, however, very rarely, — as long as he lived. Soon after the 
 Ordination of his colleague, he revisited Europe, and travelled extensively not only on the Con- 
 tinent but in the East, and, after a protracted and most interesting tour, returned in the sum- 
 mer of 1840. His last years were years of great feebleness, and considerable suffering, but he 
 was able to see his friends, and occasionally to visit some of them, until near the close of life. 
 He died suddenly at Cambridge, on the 20th of January, 1861, aged seventy-eight years. 
 He was married in October, 1806, to Harriet B. Spencer, of Portsmouth, N. H., and had six 
 children, five of whom survived him. Three of these are well known to the literary public, — 
 namely, Professor James Russell Lowell, Rev. Robert Traill Spence Lowell, an Episcopal 
 Clergyman in New Jersey, and Mrs. S. R. Putnam. The following is a list of Dr. Lowells, 
 publications: — A Sermon on the Annual Artillery Election, Boston, 1810. A Sermon 
 preached at the State Prison in Massachusetts, 1812. A Discourse delivered the Sabbath after 
 the Execution of H. P. S. Davis for the Murder of (JaspaTd Denegri, 1817. A Discourse 
 delivered before the Society for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians and other's in 
 North America, 1820. An (Historical) Discourse delivered in the West Church in Boston, 
 1820. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Richard Manning Hodges, in the South Par- 
 ish in Bridgewater, 1821. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Samuel Barrett, as Min- 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BDCKMINSTEK. 391 
 
 already been intimated, a liberal contributor to the Monthly Antho- 
 logy. 
 
 Iu describing Mr. Buekminster iu some of his relations, I am permitted 
 to draw upon my own personal recollections, though they are the recollec- 
 tions of early youth. His person, as I remember him, was rather below 
 the medium size, and perfectly symmetrical in its formation. His face, 
 which is admirably represented by Stuart's portrait, wa*s a beautiful com- 
 pound of intelligence and benignity. His manners were as simple as child- 
 hood — there was an openness, a gentleness, a gracefulness about them, 
 which made him quite irresistible. You felt yourself in contact with a 
 mind of rare endowments, and yet felt nothing of the restraint which 
 acknowledged superiority often inspires. In the intercourse of society he 
 was as far as possible from being obtrusive, and yet sustained himself in 
 all circumstances with freedom and dignity. In the pulpit he had almost 
 unparalleled attractions. With a voice that spoke music, and a face that 
 beamed light and love, and a calm self-possession and winning gracefulness 
 of manner, he held his audience, as if by a spell; and though one might 
 dissent from his opinions, he would find it difficjilt to resist the power of 
 his oratory. He prayed with his eyes open, elevated at an angle of about 
 forty-five ; and yet there was every thing in his manner to indicate the 
 highest mental abstraction. His gesture in the delivery of his discourse 
 was not very abundant ; and it was so natural and significant that it 
 seemed to have its effect almost without being noticed. He belonged to 
 a different school of pulpit orators from that of his father, or Dr. Mason, 
 or President Dwight; but it may reasonably be doubted whether a more 
 bland or attractive manner has ever been possessed by any American cler- 
 gyman. 
 
 In regard to Buckminster's religious opinions, I should be inclined to say, 
 from all the evidence I have been able to gain, that, on most questions 
 which have sioce divided the Unitarians and Orthodox, they were not 
 thoroughly fixed. The commonly received doctrine of the Trinity he evi- 
 dently rejected ; and, in regard to the person of Christ, his mind probably 
 reposed in the Arian hypothesis. Mrs. Lee, his sister, in her biographical 
 
 ister of the Twelfth Congregational Church in Boston, 1825. A Sermon preached at the 
 Ordination of George Wadsworth Wells, at Kennebunk, Me., 1827. The Trinitarian Contro- 
 versy : A Discourse delivered at the Ordination of Daniel M. Stearns to the Pastoral Charge 
 of the First Church in Dennis, 1828. Union of Sentiment amoug Christians not essential to 
 Peace : A Sermon preached at the Dedication of the South Congregational Church in Natick, 
 1828. Theology and not Religion the source of Division and Strife in the Christian Church : 
 A Sermon preached at the Ordination of John Langdon Sibley, as Minister of the Church in 
 Stow, 1829. A Sermon preached at the Dedication of the Second Congregational Church in 
 Milton, 1829. The Wisdom and Goodness of God in the Appointment of Men, and not Angels, 
 to the Christian Ministry : A Sermon preached in Berlin at the Ordination of Robert Folger 
 Wallcut, 1830. Men accountable only to God for their Religious Opinions : A Sermon preached 
 at the Ordination of William Barry, Jr., to the Pastoral Care of the South Congregational 
 Church in Lowell, 1830. A Sermon preached in the West Church, Boston, a Quarter of a 
 Century from the time of the Author's Settlement, 1831. Gospel Preaching: A Sermon 
 preached at the Ordination of Thomas B. Fox, as Pastor of the First Church and Religious 
 Society in Newburyport, 1831. A Discourse (Historical) delivered in the West Church in 
 Boston, 1845. Sermons Chiefly Practical, one vol., 12mo., 1855. Sermons Chiefly Occa- 
 sional, one vol., 12mo., 1855. The last mentioned volume is mainly a reprint of those which 
 had been previously published in pamphlet form. Dr. Lowell enjoyed the affectionate respect 
 and' veneration of all classes and all denominations. He was never willing to be called a Uni- 
 tarian, though he was always ranked with that denomination, and, in respect to the char- 
 acter of Jesns Christ, he held, as he himself informed me, what is usually known as " the 
 Indwelling Scheme." 
 
392 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 sketch of him, has furnished extracts from several of his discourses on other 
 doctrines, such as Regeneration, Atonement, &c, which, however, rather 
 oppose what the Orthodox would regard a caricature of their views, than 
 attempt to defend an}' other distinct system. In some of his unpublished 
 discourses, he speaks of the death of Christ as the " ground of the sinner's 
 pardon," as " that ^hich rendered it just for God to forgive sin ; " though 
 I am inclined to think that his later sermons evince less of sympathy with 
 the system in which he had been educated than his early ones. 
 
 The greater part of Mr. Buckminster's preaching would not have been 
 complained of, except for its omissions, by any Orthodox audience. It 
 sometimes reached a point of the most impressive and overpowering elo- 
 quence. Witness the following extract from his Sermon on " Habit : — " 
 
 "It is impossible to dismiss this subject without considering a common topic, the 
 inefflcacy of a death-bed repentance. It is to be feared that charity, which hopeth and 
 believeth all things, has sometimes discovered more of generous credulity than of well- 
 founded hope, when it has laid great stress, and built much consolation, on the casual 
 expressions and faint sighs of dying men. Far be it from us to excite suspicion, or 
 recall anxiety in the breast of surviving friendship, or to throw a new shade of terror 
 over the valley of death ; but better, far better were it for a thousand breasts to be 
 pierced with temporary anguish, and a new horror to be added to the dreary passage 
 of the grave, than that one soul be lost to Heaven by the delusive expectation of 
 effectual repentance in a dying hour. For, as we have repeatedly asked, what is 
 effectual repentance ? Can it be supposed that, when the vigour of life has been spent 
 in the establishment of vicious propensities ; when all the vivacity of youth, all the 
 soberness of manhood, and all the leisure of old age, have been given to the service 
 of sin ; when vice has been growing with the growth, and strengthening with the 
 strength ; when it has spread out with the limbs of the stripling, and become rigid with 
 the fibres of the aged; — can it, I say, he supposed that the labours of such a life are 
 to be overthrown by one last exertion of a mind impaired with disease, by the con- 
 vulsive exercise of an affrighted spirit, and by the inarticulate and feeble sounds of an 
 expiring breath ? Repentance consists not in one or more acts of contrition — it is a 
 perrnauunt change of the disposition. Those dispositions and habits of mind which 
 you bring to your dying bed, you will carry with you to another world. These habits 
 are the dying dress of the soul. They are the grave clothes in which it must come 
 forth, at the last, to meet the sentence of an impartial Judge. If they were filthy, the}' 
 will be filthy still. The washing of baptismal water will not, at that hour, cleanse the 
 spots of the soul. The confession of sins, which have never been removed, will not 
 furnish the conscience with an answer towards God. The reception of the elements 
 will not then infuse a principle of spiritual life, any more than unconsecrated bread 
 and wine will infuse health into the limbs on which the cold damps of death have 
 already collected. Say not that you have discarded such superstitious expectations. 
 You have not discarded them while you defer any thing to that hour, while you venture 
 to rely on any thing but the mercy of God toward a heart, holy, sincere and sanctified; 
 a heart which loves Heaven for its purity and God for his goodness. If, in this solemn 
 hour, the soul of an habitual and inveterate offender be prepared for the residence of 
 pure and spotless spirits, it can be only by a sovereign and miraculous interposition of 
 Omnipotence. His power we pretend not to limit. He can wash the sooty Ethiop 
 white, and cause the spots on the leopard's skin to disappear. We presume not to 
 fathom the counsels of his will ; but this we will venture to assert, that if, at the last 
 hour of the sinner's life, the power of God ever interposes to snatch him from his ruin, 
 such interposition will never be disclosed to the curiosity of man. For if it should 
 once be believed that the rewards of Heaven can be obtained by such an instantaneous 
 and miraculous change at the last hour of life, all our ideas of moral probation, and 
 of the connection between the character here and condition hereafter, are loose, 
 unstable and groundless ; the nature and the laws of God's moral government are 
 made at once inexplicable; our exhortations are useless, our experience false, and 
 the whole apparatus of Gospel means and motives becomes a cumbrous and unneces- 
 sary provision." 
 
 Not long after Mr. Buckminster's death a selection from his sermons 
 was very carefully made, and given to the public in an octavo volume. A 
 few years later another volume was published ; and, at a more recent 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 393 
 
 period, his "works" have appeared in two volumes duodecimo, in which 
 are included various extracts from his sermons which were printed through 
 a succession of years in the •• Christian Disciple." With the first selec- 
 tion of his Sermons was published an interesting Biographical Sketch of him, 
 from the pen of his intimate friend, the Rev. Samuel Cooper Thacher. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOSHUA BATES, I* D., 
 
 PRESIDENT OP MIDDLEEOET COLLEGE. 
 
 Dudley, Mass., March 20, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: In compliance with your request, and as well as I can, I will 
 give you my views and recollections of my classmate Buckminster. You wish 
 me, you say, to write 3 r ou a letter stating my << impressions concerning him, 
 especially during his college life." You add, " what I wish is not a biograph- 
 ical sketch, for the means of that are already within my reach; but simply a 
 brief delineation of his character, as it appeared to you, accompanied by any 
 anecdotes, which may serve to illustrate it." 
 
 Accordingly, I begin by stating the recollected circumstances of my first 
 interview with him, and the strong impression of his superior talents, bril- 
 liancy of intellect, and precocity of genius, which that interview made on my 
 mind. It was in one of the halls of Harvard College, in the autumn of 1797, 
 that we first met. We were there on the same errand, waiting, with our 
 books, to be examined, in connection with three others, for admission to the 
 Sophomore class in that institution. We had time, before we were called into 
 the presence of the Faculty, for mutual introduction; and the occasion of meet- 
 ing at once excited a, mutual interest, and led to a free and familiar conversa- 
 tion. He was then a lad of thirteen, small .of stature, delicate and modest in 
 demeanour. But his manly bearing, his brilliant countenance and dignified 
 conversation, produced at once the impression on my mind that he was not 
 like other boys; — that there was in him what I had never seen before in 
 one so young. Indeed, the feeling excited in me was that of wonder and admi- 
 ration; and this feeling I never lost. 
 
 His appearance and performance in the Philosophy Chamber, while under 
 examination, were such as perfectly corresponded with the high expectations 
 which my first impression had raised. I remember, in particular, his admira- 
 ble reading and translation of a iong passage in the Iliad of Homer. He read 
 the Greek as if it had been his vernacular language, — with ease, fluency and 
 expressiveness; and his translation was at once free and accurate, neat and 
 comprehensive, perspicuous and elegant. Indeed, the very soul of the poet 
 seemed to be infused into the beautiful and expressive language of the transla- 
 tor. I had never heard Homer so read and so translated before; and the 
 admiration which I felt was evidently felt by all present. 
 
 A similar ease and elegance characterized his subsequent recitations in the 
 class; at least so far as regarded the Ancient Classics. For at these exercises 
 he was always present; and always prepared to give the full meaning of the 
 author, expressed in the most appropriate and precise, as well as pure and 
 comprehensive, phraseology, which the English language could furnish. I 
 scarcely ever heard him corrected by the presiding teacher; and never, as far 
 as I could judge, for the better. 
 
 His written compositions in English, especially under the fascinating charm 
 of his own delivery, fully sustained, through our college course, my first 
 impressions concerning him, as a youth of uncommonly delicate taste and 
 exalted genius. I distinctly remember the thrilling effect produced on my 
 mind, and apparently on the minds of others, by his Oration, at the Junior 
 Exhibition of, our class. This was the first occasion on which the class were 
 
394 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 permitted to exhibit publicly their own compositions; and to him, though 
 then a youth under the age of fifteen, the first part in point of rank, the only 
 English Oration, was assigned. But no one of the class complained of the dis- 
 tinction; nor, when the Exhibition was over, did any one express a feeling of 
 dissatisfaction on account of the distinguished honour accorded to him. His 
 subject was << Enthusiasm," — enthusiasm in the best and most enlarged sense 
 of the term; and it was illustrated with such perspicuit}', and exhibited with 
 so much force and elegance, as to secure universal admiration and the most 
 enthusiastic applause. It seemed to me, prepossessed as I unquestionably 
 was, and perhaps partially blinded by that friendship which had grown up 
 between us, to be decidedly the best oration I had ever heard pronounced. 
 Probably 4 however, the extremely youthful appearance, the small stature 
 and beautiful countenance of the orator, exerted an influence on my mind and 
 on the minds of the enraptured audience. There can be no doubt, indeed, that 
 the impression made by the oration depended, in no small degree, upon the 
 delivery, — the distinctness of articulation, the propriety of pronunciation, the 
 melody of intonation, and the force of emphasis and expression, together with 
 the perfect symmetry of action, and completeness of enunciation. 
 
 The same remarks were applicable to that masterly production, — his Ora- 
 tion " On the literary characters of different nations," delivered at our Com- 
 mencement, when he had assigned to him again one of the two English Ora- 
 tions; and when he fully sustained the reputation he had already acquired in 
 College, as a beautiful writer and an eloquent speaker. Indeed, while his style 
 of composition, as his published discourses have since shown, was eminently 
 pure, classical, simple, and yet elegant, his manner of delivery, — his reading 
 and speaking, during his residence at College, and subsequently, gave the 
 crowning glory to the productions of his pen. 
 
 In proof of the power and charm of his reading, I might adduce what I dis- 
 tinctly recollect as an approved remark of one of our discriminating class- 
 mates. At the close of a meeting of a <> Composition Club," when Buckmin- 
 ster had been the reader, for the evening, of the anonymous pieces, drawn 
 from the secret box, it was remarked, — << When Buckminster reads, all the 
 compositions are good." No one, as it seemed to me, could read like him; 
 and give to every letter its full power, to every syllable its distinct weight and 
 measure, to every word its just emphasis and appropriate modulation, to every 
 phrase and sentence, their precise meaning, — their complete and expressive 
 import. 
 
 His excellent reading was, indeed, as is always the case where it exists, the 
 foundation of his enchanting eloquence; and his eloquent delivery, as I said, 
 gave the crowning glory to his compositions. Were you now to go about 
 among the elderly members of Brattle Street Congregation, and ask them 
 what they think of Mr. Buckminster's published sermonSj I should not be 
 surprised if the)' should tell you (excellent as they consider these discourses) 
 that the)' are altogether inferior to many which they heard him preach. They 
 might not all be aware of the cause of this apparent inferiority; but to the 
 philosophic mind, accustomed to analysis, that cause must be obvious at once. 
 It is found in his delivery, — his excellent reading, combined with the beauty 
 of his person, and his appropriate action, — in the various qualities which, 
 united, go to form complete eloquence, and constitute a perfect orator. — Such 
 trul)' was Buckminster. His enunciation and expression, his brilliant eye and 
 lofty brow, the mingled sweetness and strength, solemnity and cheerfulness, 
 intelligence and feeling, which continually pervaded and animated his whole 
 countenance, while speaking, gave to his discourses more than half their 
 charms, and enabled him to exert an absolute control over the feelings of his 
 audience . 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 395 
 
 To illustrate my meaning more fully, I will relate an anecdote, which brings 
 to mind a human countenance in complete contrast with the one which I have 
 attempted to describe. I remember when a preacher of some celebrity came 
 out of a pulpit, where he had been preaching, on a secular day, and I asked a 
 keen observer of physiognomy, what he thought of the talents of the preacher, 
 I received this dry but significant answer — "Too much margin, Sir, — too 
 much margin to the face." And I remember that I thought at once of my 
 classmate Buckminster, as furnishing a complete contrast to the object of 
 this well-directed sarcasm. His face had no superfluous margin. It was 
 written all over, and marked in every part with brilliant thought and glow- 
 ing feeling. 
 
 If it were proper to apply the term, beauty, in describing the personal 
 appearance of any man, I should say that no man whom I have ever known, 
 possessed the elements of this quality in a higher degree than he did. And 
 the influence which this had on his popularity, as a public speaker, and even 
 as a Preacher, was, as I have intimated, by no means unimportant. It ought 
 not, therefore, to be omitt&d in an attempt to delineate his character as an 
 Orator. As he stood in the pulpit and delivered his message, you could dis- 
 cover no defect in form or manner, in attitude or movement, in utterance or 
 expression — all was symmetry, propriety, elegance. He was, indeed, a 
 model as a pulpit orator ; and his personal charms and elegance of manners 
 forcibly illustrated to my mind, by positive example, the wisdom of that 
 negative injunction of the Levitical law, — "No man, that hath a blemish of 
 the seed of Aaron, the Priest, shall come nigh to offer the offerings of the 
 Lord." 
 
 Mr. Buckminster, as I said, sustained the character of a distinguished clas- 
 sical scholar through his college course. Indeed, in every thing pertaining to 
 literature, ancient and modern, he made himself eminent. For in this direc- 
 tion his taste inclined his inquisitive mind, and his powers of acquisition were 
 never suffered to remain inactive. He was a diligent student, — an industrious 
 scholar. He wasted no time. He could be diverted from his chosen pursuits 
 by no influence, however alluring or persuasive. The vain amusements of 
 trifling minds he despised. His play was study. His recreation was profita- 
 ble reading. His social enjoyment, generally indulged in connection with 
 ■wholesome exercise, as he walked abroad with some single companion, was 
 instructive conversation. He was always, as Swedenborg would say, in the 
 uses. 
 
 The result of all this, — of his great powers of mind faithfully employed 
 and steadily directed, was high literary attainments. His attainments were, 
 indeed, comparatively great, not only for one of his age, but for one of his 
 grade, during every period of his college life. He acquired knowledge with 
 great facility, and he retained permanently what he acquired. Books of 
 History, Biography, and General Literature, he read with uncommon rapidity, 
 and yet he read nothing superficially. The rapid manner in which he read 
 was indeed most remarkable, and often attracted the notice of those who had 
 opportunity to see him in his reading hours. For while engaged in reading a 
 folio, he seemed to turn over the leaves with as much rapidity as most men pass 
 over the pages of the smallest folded sheet; and yet he saw every letter, and 
 caught and, held every important idea. Children, it is known, read by sylla- 
 bles; and most men by words or phrases; some perhaps by sentences; but he, 
 and one other person whom I have known, seemed to read by paragraphs and 
 pages. Whether this rapidity of reading and grasping the contents of a book 
 depended principally on the movements of a rapidly glancing and quick-sighted 
 eye; or on this, in connection with the unparalleled activity of a mind endowed 
 with the high gifts of genius, — on bodily and mental powers originally superior, 
 
396 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 early developed, and kept in constant and unwearied exercise, I will not under- 
 take to decide. The fact of the rapidity of his reading, and the facility with 
 which he acquired knowledge, however, was obvious to all, who had oppor- 
 tunity to observe him in his study, and become acquainted with his mental 
 habits and literary acquirements. I remember that an experiment was once 
 made by a number of fellow-students, of whom he was one, with a view to 
 ascertain the comparative rapidity with which we could grasp the contents of 
 a book. Each one in succession read aloud as rapidly as he could articulate, 
 till one of the number, without previous notice, interposed some object between 
 the eye of the reader and the book. The result of the experiment was strik- 
 ing — it was found that Buckminster could continue to read, after the inter- 
 posed object had covered the printed page, for a longer, — a much longer, time 
 than any other member of the company. 
 
 In testifying to his high literary attainments in College, I intend to confine 
 my remarks principally to literature, in the limited and appropriate significa- 
 tion of the term. He was not a man of science, as that term is technically 
 used. The Mathematics he did not love. He had no taste for abstract studies. 
 Above all, he manifested an unconquerable aversion to metaphysical speculation 
 and transcendental flights of fancy. It is true he made himself acquainted 
 with what may be called " the literature of science." He knew the origin, 
 the progress, the state, — indeed the whole history, of every science of the 
 age. He could tell -you who made each discovery, and who was the inventor 
 of the instruments, and what were the appliances by which it was made. He 
 could speak learnedly of the character and merits of the philosophers of all 
 ages and countries, and beautifully illustrate the topics of literature on which 
 he descanted, by appropriate allusions to the success of scientific pursuits, 
 and the beneficial application of scientific principles. But here his inter- 
 course with the sciences, especially the abstract sciences, ended. The princi- 
 ples themselves he never investigated. The details of classification, and the 
 tedious steps of demonstration, he never pursued. He had no taste, as I said, 
 for the study of the pure Mathematics. Nor did he relish, at all, the tardy 
 and entangled processes of logical deduction and metaphysical disquisition. 
 
 By the preceding statement I do not mean to intimate that he neglected 
 any of the prescribed studies of the college course; or failed to recite, with a 
 good degree of accuracy, the lessons assigned to the class. He was always in 
 his place at the hour of recitation; and alwa3 - s filled his place, in the view 
 of our several instructors. But, with the Mathematical and Metaphysical 
 Professors, he did no more. For example, though our prescribed course of 
 Mathematical studies was then extremely limited, he never went beyond the 
 text-books put into his hands. He was never seen, nor would he have been 
 willingly seen, proceeding from the College library with Sanderson's Algebra, 
 or Newton's Principia, under his arm. 
 
 At that period, very little oral instruction was imparted in our College. 
 Few public lectures were delivered; and no familiar illustrations were given 
 in connection with the study of the prescribed text-books. Our recitations 
 were mere examinations, conducted apparently for the single purpose of ascer- 
 taining whether the appointed lesson had been faithfully studied. Of course, 
 the acquisitions of students depended very much on their own efforts and 
 ingenuity. Every one had much time to devote to studies of his own choice; 
 and the education actually obtained by any, was much more than at present, 
 self-education. The kind and degree of each one's attainments, therefore, 
 corresponded very nearly with his taste, capacity and efforts, — his genius and 
 industry. This fact made Mr. Buckminster a man of literature rather than 
 of science; a scholar of high order, but not of universal attainments; a man 
 of learning as well as genius, but not distinguished for deep research and 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTEE. 
 
 397 
 
 analytical investigation; a model in matters of taste, grammatical accuracy, 
 and rhetorical beauty, but not in logical deduction, metaphysical discrimina- 
 tion, abstract reasoning and philosophical criticism. 
 
 Were I to attempt to give an analysis of his mind, and exhibit the promi- 
 nent characteristics of his intellectual powers and habits, especially as they 
 were developed and brought to view in College, I should speak of the fixedness 
 of his attention to the chosen objects of his contemplation, and the perfect com- 
 mand which he possessed over the current of his associated thoughts, as the 
 first and most obvious quality of his mind. His perceptive powers, I should 
 admit, were quick and excursive. Indeed, this has already been stated with 
 reference to the rapid movement and far-reaching glance of the eye. But the 
 statement should not be confined to the sense of sight. The remark might be 
 extended with truth to all his organs and powers of perception. For they 
 were all connected with a keen and delicate sensibility, and directed by an irre- 
 pressible desire of knowledge. Of the principles of association, on which mem- 
 ory and imagination, comparison and the process of reasoning depend, as they 
 were developed in his mind, and exercised in his literary career, by which he 
 acquired knowledge so easily and rapidly, and by which his acquisitions were 
 held so firmly, and held in such distinct classification, as to be always ready 
 for appropriate use: — of these principles, as they existed in his mind, I should 
 say, they were those which belong to the Poet rather than the Philosopher. 
 His mind moved, indeed, habitually under the control of the will; and, with a 
 self-command rarely possessed, he was able to exclude from it every unwelcome 
 thought and intruding idea; and yet the associations by which he seized and 
 held what of knowledge he chose to retain, were not of the grosser kind, 
 involving very general principles and abstract relations — they were, as was 
 stated before, such as fitted him to excel in literary, rather than scientific 
 pursuits. The analogies on which his associations depended, — which, there- 
 fore, furnished him with a clue in his researches, were delicate and flexible; 
 and yet, as he followed them with wonderful rapidity in his pursuit of know- 
 ledge, they became rigid, and gave him an enduring hold upon his knowledge 
 as soon as it was acquired. Hence his memory was one of the most compre- 
 hensive and tenacious as well as ready. Hence, too, his imagination was at 
 once excursive and brilliant, chaste, correct, and rich in its combinations, 
 furnishing copious materials for rhetorical embellishments. Indeed, it may be 
 affirmed, though he never wrote poetry, he was << born a poet," and possessed 
 all the elements of poetic genius. And had he been willing, in his literary 
 career, to stop at the foot of Parnassus, and drink largely of the waters of the 
 Castalian fount, and sport long with the Muses that play on its banks, he 
 might have been inspired with the spirit of poesy, and have become, in his day, 
 the Poet Laureate of America. 
 
 So far as relates to moral character, Mr. Buckminster was exemplary and 
 worthy of all praise and imitation. Nothing of duplicity, or meanness, or 
 indelicacy, was ever seen in his deportment, or heard in his conversation. 
 His social affections were refined, and his moral sensibility acute. His con- 
 scientiousness, as phrenologists would say, was fully developed; so that you 
 might rely implicitly on what he said, as truth, and regard with confidence 
 what he did, as the exponent of the honest purposes of his heart. His friend- 
 ships were select but enduring. Indeed, where his social affections found an 
 approved object, the attachment became indissoluble. He was, accordingly, 
 rather a "fast friend" than an ardent lover. I have reason to know that 
 some difference of opinion on subjects of deep interest, and even occasional dis- 
 cussion on such subjects, had no power with him to shake confidence or loosen 
 the ties of friendship. 
 
 Of his views of religion, and his predominant sentiments and feelings on the 
 
398 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 great subjects of our relation to God and eternal life, while a member of Col- 
 lege, I cannot say much. Indeed, it is now matter of regret that my familiar 
 intercourse with him did not lead us to such conversations as would enable 
 me to say more on a subject so deeply involving the very elements of charac- 
 ter. But religion, — experimental religion, was not the conversational topic 
 of the age and of the place, when we were at Cambridge. The infidelity, grow- 
 ing out of the French Revolution, and imported into America in " The Age of 
 Reason," had diffused itself extensively among the young men of our country, 
 and had made a strong lodgement in the bosom and family of our Alma Mater. 
 Hence, even those among her sons who felt something of the power of religion, 
 and a steady attachment to Christianity, seldom spoke of the subject, " one to 
 another." 
 
 Whether Buckminster ever read the writings of Voltaire and Paine I know 
 not. But if he did read them, as a part of the literary productions of the 
 times, I presume he found an antidote to the poison which they contained, in 
 Bishop Watson's excellent Apologies for Christianity and the Bible, which 
 soon followed across the Atlantic, diffusing abroad their correcting influence 
 and applying their healing power. It is true he was not a public professor of 
 religion, while in College; nor, as far as I knew, a member of any organized 
 Christian Church. Indeed, there were but few in College, at that period, who 
 sustained that high relation. He was, however, a member of a religious club, 
 which held its secret meetings in a retired house on the borders of the village 
 for " prayer and mutual religious improvement." And, as I well remember, he 
 attended these meetings with constancy; and took an active part in the appro- 
 priate exercises, — in turn delivering a theological lecture and leading in 
 prayer. 
 
 Here perhaps I should close this already protracted epistle. But I cannot, 
 with propriety and justice to the memory of my lamented friend, forbear to 
 add a remark expressive of my views of his literary career subsequent to his 
 college course. Though we both left Cambridge immediately after our gradua- 
 tion, in 1800, our friendly intercourse did not cease with our personal separa- 
 tion. We immediately commenced an epistolary correspondence, which was 
 maintained till we were both settled in the ministry; — he at Boston, and I at 
 Dedham. From the period of his Ordination, our intercourse was confined to 
 occasional, and not very frequent, personal visits. The intercourse, however, 
 was sufficient to sustain my admiration of his splendid talents and distin- 
 guished literary acquirements. 
 
 In regard to Mr. Buckminster's theological views, I do not think I can add 
 any thing to what you are already in possession of. I may suggest, however, 
 that while you will probably place him in the general class of Unitarian min- 
 isters, where public opinion seems to have assigned his place, it should be 
 remembered that, at the time of his entering the ministry, Unitarians, as a dis- 
 tinct and acknowledged religious denomination, were not known to exist on 
 this side of the Atlantic. The term, indeed, may have been occasionally ap- 
 plied to a few ministers and laymen; but it was seldom allowed to be appro- 
 priately applied by those to whom the name was given. Sure I am that Mr. 
 Buckminster never took the name upon himself, nor used it as a distinctive 
 term, significant of his own faith. He was not a sectarian in feeling, nor a 
 controversialist in practice, nor was anything of the odium theologicum fairly 
 attributable to him. However you may be compelled to reject some of his 
 reasonings as a Biblical critic, and dissent from some of the conclusions to 
 which he came, in applying the rules of classification, and selection of differ- 
 ent manuscript readings, as an editor of Griesbach's Greek Testament, you 
 will not fail to admire the candour and evident honesty of mind displayed in 
 all his critical and theological discussions. 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 
 
 399 
 
 In conclusion, and in accordance with your request that I would give my 
 own personal impressions concerning my deceased friend and classmate, rather 
 than attempt to delineate his character, I subjoin the following strong but sin- 
 cere remark : Among all my literary friends in College, and during a long life 
 of familiarity with men distinguished in the several departments of learning, 
 and the learned professions, in various portions of our country, I have never 
 found one, who seemed to me to possess more of that indescribable character 
 of mind, or rather, I should say, a more complete combination of those intel- 
 lectual powers and susceptibilities, which we usually denominate genius, than 
 Joseph Stevexs Buckminster. I have known men of more universal schol- 
 arship; and men of more dazzling wit — indeed I was about to modify the 
 preceding general remark, and make an exception in favour of Fisher Ames, 
 who, in some respects, especially in the sudden bursts of eloquence, and the 
 brilliant train of thought, and rich display of metaphor, which marked his 
 public speeches, and even his private conversation, certainly excelled all men 
 of my acquaintance. But, notwithstanding this modification and partial 
 exception, I can make no essential abatement from the general remark, 
 expressive of my admiration of Buckminster's genius. He, indeed, furnished 
 my standard of genius. For his was a genius, pure and elevated, steady and 
 uniform in its movements, exempt from the depressions of morbid sensibility 
 and the erratic flights of spasmodic action, exhibiting in his conversation and 
 writings nothing of that mental mania and moral delinquency, of those impi- 
 ous speculations and unholy associations, which have so often marred the 
 works, and stained the character, of men of acknowledged genius and splendid 
 talents. And it gives me no small pleasure, — though a pleasure, chastened 
 by many melancholy recollections and monitory lessons, — to make this state- 
 ment, and bear my testimony to the high qualities and excellent character of 
 one I loved so well. 
 
 With great respect, yours in the fellowship of the Gospel, 
 
 JOSHUA BATES. 
 
 FROM THE HON. EDWARD EVERETT, LL. D. 
 
 Cambridge, 12th April, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir : I fear you will think I have forgotten my promise to commu- 
 nicate to you my recollections of Mr. Buckminster. Such is not the case; 
 but it is only within the last two months that I have had much leisure for 
 any thing beyond the daily routine of my official duties. One of the first things 
 to which I have turned my thoughts, in acquiring some little control of my 
 time, has been the fulfilment of my engagement with you. 
 
 Shortly after I promised to write you a letter on this subject, Mrs. Lee 
 made a similar request. Understanding that her Life of her brother was in 
 a course of immediate preparation, I have thought you would not take it amiss 
 if my first communication was addressed to her. The priority, however, is 
 very trifling. I enclose you a copy of my letter to her, which is quite at your 
 service for any use you wish to make of it, except that it ought not to appear 
 in print before the publication of her book. I am the rather led to send you 
 a copy of this letter, because it will sufficiently explain to you the scantiness 
 of my personal recollections of Mr. Buckminster. I knew him as a child 
 knows his family pastor, and as a youth at College knows a kind friend, who 
 takes some friendly interest in his studies. I was too young at the time of his 
 decease to have been admitted by him into any thing which could be called 
 intimacy, — still less into any community of studies or speculations. 
 
 Without enlarging upon those topics, which form the subject of my letter to 
 Mrs. Lee, I will add to them a remark or two on what seems to me worthy of 
 
400 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 particular remembrance in connection with Mr. Buckminster's character as a 
 Theologian and a Scholar. 
 
 If I mistake not, he gave the first impulse in this vicinity, if not in the 
 United States, to the systematic study of " Biblical Criticism." It is no great 
 reproach to the Theology of this country to trace to so recent an origin the 
 cultivation of this important department, for it was taken up quite as early 
 here as in England. It took its rise, I believe, in both countries, from Marsh's 
 translations of the Introduction of Michaelis to the New Testament; — a work 
 to which I have understood Mr. Buckminster gave its first notoriety in this 
 country. It is now, as I understand, not much read; in his time, it was 
 regarded as a kind of text-book. It was he, too, who made the first move- 
 ment to carry into effect the liberal intentions of Mr. Samuel Dexter the 
 elder, who, in 1799, made provision for a bequest to the University here, 
 (realized in 1811,) for the foundation of a Lectureship on Sacred Criticism. I 
 have in my possession a paper, drawn up by Mr. Buckminster, for the purpose 
 of calling the attention of the liberal and affluent to this subject, and he was 
 himself chosen the first Dexter Lecturer. He addressed himself strenuously 
 to the preparation for the duties of this appointment, but he did not live to 
 enter upon their performance. 
 
 These critical studies, once so popular, now seem to be rapidly becoming 
 obsolete. AYhether the sort of speculations which has superseded them, is in 
 its nature more important, or in its tendency more salutary, is a problem of 
 which our children will witness the practical solution. Mr. Buckminster 
 thought that the solid foundation of all true Theology was to be laid in the 
 diligent study of the Scriptures in the original tongues, under the lights of an 
 intelligent and conscientious criticism. It is perhaps not the least recommen- 
 dation of this view that it leads directly to the cultivation of the congenial 
 branches of ancient and philological literature, and thus establishes a safe- 
 guard against individual extravagancies and wild speculative novelties. It is 
 dangerous to take any department of enquiry out of the recognized analogies 
 of the human mind. The modern Transcendentalism, like the ancient Mysti- 
 cism, claims to have a province of its own; not requiring, hardly inviting, 
 illustration from any other quarter. A taste for Biblical Philology can hardly 
 exist and be cultivated without a general acquaintance with ancient literature. 
 They were eminently united in Mr. Buckminster. He was certainly one of 
 the very best scholars of the day. He read the ancient authors for the pleas- 
 ure which their perusal afforded him, and was well versed in the criticism of 
 the German, French and English schools. 
 
 He was called away too soon to have found many occasions for the display of 
 his reading, if indeed one ought to use the word display in reference to the 
 public appearances of a person so free from every form of ostentation. The 
 Address at Cambridge in 1809 shows the scholar in every paragraph. The 
 noble library which Mr. Buckminster selected in Europe, at the very opening 
 of his short career, was of itself a sufficient proof of his extensive acquain- 
 tance with books. 
 
 It is my impression, though this belongs to a period rather before my time, 
 that Mr. Buckminster was among the very first who introduced the study of 
 Bibliography into this part of the countrj*. I am unable to say what may 
 have been the case at New York, or Philadelphia, or in the neighbourhood of 
 respectable places of education in other parts of the country; but. in this 
 vicinity, before Mr. Buckminster's time, I believe there had been no library 
 of an}' considerable size, rich at once in sacred and classical literature; per- 
 haps but one, (that of the late Mr. John Pickering, collected a few years 
 before and immediately dispersed,) which was rich in either. I do not, of 
 course, mean that there were no valuable private collections, but I think there 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 401 
 
 was none of any great size; certainly none which contained the recent German 
 editions. Mr. Buckminster's library contained all the classics of both lan- 
 guages, in the best working editions. The principal works on Ancient History, 
 Philosophy, Literature and Art, and a very complete collection in every depart- 
 ment of Sacred Criticism and Philology; besides the principal miscellaneous- 
 works which belong to a well-selected general library. The affecting manner 
 in which, in his diary, he alludes to the probability that, owing to his pre- 
 carious state of health, his own enjoyment of his literary treasures might 
 be of short duration, shows us to what an extent the thought of his malady 
 gave a complexion to his life. A young scholar justifies the time and expense 
 bestowed on the purchase of a library, on the ground that, when he is gone, 
 the hooks will benefit those who succeed him! 
 
 You will not regard these somewhat desultory remarks as any attempt at 
 a sketch of the character of our beloved and lamented friend, of which indeed, 
 after the admirable memoirs prefixed to the collection of his sermons, there is 
 no need. I have aimed only, in compliance with your request, to awaken a, 
 desire in those who are succeeding us, to study more carefully than they 
 might otherwise do, the character and writings of one, whose career, however 
 brilliant, was but a bright promise of greater things mournfully disap- 
 pointed : — 
 
 Ostendunt terris hunc tantum fata neque ultra 
 Esse siuunt: 
 
 I remain, my dear Sir, with great esteem, 
 
 Sincerely your friend, 
 
 EDWARD EVERETT. 
 
 The following is the letter to Mrs. Lee, above referred to. 
 
 Cambridge, April 10, 1849. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Lee: I am quite ashamed to find how long it is since you 
 requested me to give you my recollections of your brother. I regret it the 
 more because, in sitting down to fulfil the long-postponed, but not forgotten, 
 promise, I feel that I shall hardly fail to disappoint you. It is true, indeed, 
 that my brief intercourse with him produced, at the time, a most powerful 
 effect upon me. My imagination was dazzled with the splendour of his public 
 appearance, and my affections entirely won by the kindness which he showed 
 me in private. But our relations were brought to an untimely close, while I 
 was yet too young to have entered into the depths of his character; and 
 thirty-seven somewhat crowded and eventful years, which haie since passed 
 over me, have necessarily impaired the distinctness of my recollections. 
 
 The difference of age between us (ten years) would not be thought great 
 between two grown men; but between a youth of eighteen who had just left 
 College, and a person who had for several years been placed in one of the 
 most arduous and responsible stations in the community, and who filled 
 it with a weight of character and a maturity of power far beyond his time of 
 life, the difference was nearly as great as that between boyhood and age. 
 I suppose there never was an individual, who, from his first entrance upon 
 manly engagements and duties, left behind him more completely than your 
 brother all the levities — the innocent levities I mean, — for he could have no 
 other — of youth. In fact, I should infer from the recollections of his earliest 
 years, of which his sister has preserved us so beautiful and affecting a record, 
 that he exhibited from the very morning of life a calm dignity of temper and 
 manner, which made the transition from youth to manhood almost impercept- 
 ible. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 26 
 
402 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Certainly, from the earliest period at which I recollect him, and when he 
 was but about twenty-one or two years of age, I looked up to him with 
 emotions in which reverence was by far the predominant feeling. I cannot 
 say that I was at any time on terms of intimacy with him. Our personal 
 acquaintance commenced with the attendance of my mother's family at the 
 Church in Brattle Street, which did not, I think, begin till his return from 
 Europe. This was about the time of my entering College; and, as the stu- 
 dents were not permitted to pass Sundays at home, I did not enjoy the privi- 
 lege of hearing him preach except in vacations. A year or two later, I began 
 to call upon him occasionally when I went to Boston on Saturdays. This was 
 of course the day when my visits were least convenient. I believe I had the 
 discretion never to stay very long; but I was not, in the thoughtlessness of 
 youth, sufficiently aware how much I intruded upon him. The beaming 
 smile with which he never failed to receive me, was well calculated to mis- 
 lead me in that respect; it is still fresh in my memory, and will be one of the 
 last images that fades from it. 
 
 If I should attempt to fix the period at which I first felt all the power of 
 his influence, it would be at the delivery of his Oration before the Phi Beta 
 Kappa Society, in August, 1809, at which time I had been two years in Col- 
 lege, but still hardly emerged from boyhood. That Address, although the 
 standaid of merit for such performances is higher now than it was then, will, 
 I think, still be regarded as one of the very best of its class; admirably appro- 
 priate, thoroughly meditated, and exquisitely wrought. It unites sterling 
 sense, sound and various scholarship, precision of thought, the utmost ele- 
 gance of style, without pomp or laborious ornament, with a fervour and depth 
 of feeling truly evangelical. These qualities of course are preserved in the 
 printed text of the Oration. But the indescribable charm of your brother's 
 personal appearance and manner, the look, the voice, the gesture and atti- 
 tude, — the unstudied outward expression of the inward feeling, — of these 
 no idea can be formed by those who never heard him. A better conception 
 of what they might have been may probably be gathered from the contem- 
 plation of Stuart's portrait than from any description. I can never look at it 
 without fancying I catch the well-remembered expression of the living eye, at 
 once gentle and penetrating, and hear the most melodious voice, as I firmly 
 Jbelieved, that ever passed the lips of mart. 
 
 It would be presumptuous in me, from my youthful impressions, to attempt, 
 as you request, an analysis of your brother's intellectual and moral character. 
 Indeed, that duty was so happily performed by our friends Mr. Tbacher and 
 Mr. Norton, shortly after his decease, that any effort in that way, on my 
 part, would be wholly superfluous. I will only say that I think he possessed, 
 in a greater degree than I have seen them combined in one person, an 
 intellect of great acuteness and force, a brilliant imagination, a sound practi- 
 cal judgment, a taste for literary research of all sorts, and especially for 
 critical learning, together with an elevation of moral feeling approaching to 
 austerity, (not in his judgments of others, but in his own sense of duty,) and 
 a devotional spirit rapt and tender almost beyond the measure of humanity. 
 To repeat his own beautiful quotation in the Address above alluded to, in his 
 case, if ever among men, — << true praj'er has flowed from lips wet with Cas- 
 talian dews." All this was at the age of twenty-eight, when he was taken 
 from us. Had he lived to the ordinary age of man, it seems to me that he 
 gave an early assurance that he possessed those intellectual and moral endow- 
 ments, which would haye made him, in his profession, the foremost man of 
 his country and time- 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BUCKMINSTER. 403 
 
 If you think that these hasty remarks will be of any interest to the readers 
 of the work you are preparing, though I feel very sensibly how unworthy 
 they are of their subject, they are quite at your disposal. 
 I remain, my dear Mrs. Lee, in sincere friendship, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 EDWARD EVERETT. 
 
 FROM JOHN G. PALFREY, D. D., LL. D. 
 
 Boston, November 19, 1861. 
 
 My Dear Sir: You ask me to set down some personal reminiscences of Mr. 
 Buckminster. If you print them, let as much as your readers please be im- 
 puted to the garrulity of an old man. I give you a simple transcript of what 
 exists in my own mind. 
 
 Mr. Buckminster died at the age of twenty-eight, in June, 1812. I had just 
 then completed my sixteenth year. Of course, I was incapable of an analysis 
 of his mind and character. 
 
 I first saw him in 1805, going up to the pulpit of Federal Street Church, where 
 the family worshipped of which I was a member. Boston was then a town 
 of less than thirty thousand inhabitants, and much more isolated than it is 
 now from the re,st of the world. . The appearance of a youthful prodigy of 
 pulpit eloquence was the theme of conversation in all circles. I strained my 
 eyes for the first glimpse of one so celebrated. I heard him preach occasion- 
 ally from that time forward. I seemed to understand all that he said, and 
 was captivated by it, like all around me. As I now read his sermons of that 
 period, they do not appear to me so level to the comprehension of a child as 
 those which I heard habitually with less interest from Dr. Channing. It 
 must have been the exquisite charm of manner, which impressed the meaning 
 that the language alone would have failed to convey. For words are but 'one 
 form of the expression of thought and feeling. The combination of tones and 
 action constitute another; and only when they blend their forces is the effect 
 complete. I know that by those lips religion found a new entrance into my 
 soul. 
 
 In the spring of 1809 some friends of mine solicited Mr. Buckminster's aid 
 to obtain admission for me to the Academy at Exeter, with which he was in 
 relations. I was told to visit him. << So," said he, when I went, << you want 
 to be a minister." This was an example of the abrupt address, which, coup- 
 led with all gentleness, was one characteristic of his manner. I do not know 
 what I replied. It is probable that, if I had self-possession enough, I said 
 that my friends had been hasty in their inferences, and that what I was aim- 
 ing at was to get a good education. 
 
 He interested himself for me, and the immediate object was attained. Dur- 
 ing the next two years I passed my school vacations in Boston, and he encour- 
 aged me to be often at his house. I used to go directly to the study. It 
 occupied, from front to rear, the second story of the Eastern side of the par- 
 sonage in Court Street. In the centre stood an organ, where he used to prac- 
 tise the sacred music, which he highly enjoyed. Leaning back from the 
 instrument one day, he said to me that I ought never to get interested in 
 music, if I could help it. I should find it would take up too much time. The 
 room was surrounded with shelves, crowded with the books, in the collection 
 of which he had expended a moderate patrimony. I soon learned his habits, 
 and conformed myself to them. Sometimes he would appear to be at leisure, 
 and would greet me cordially, and detain me to talk about my boyish studies. 
 At other times I found him busy or abstracted, and then I would amuse 
 myself a little with his books, and, when I was ready, retire in silence. When 
 
404 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 I left Exeter in 1811, he brought me to Boston in his chaise, and the rich delight 
 of his conversation through that day is fresh in my memory. 
 
 His Oration at Cambridge, before the Society of Phi Beta Kappa, in August, 
 1809, is in print. I do not know how it may be estimated by the critics. To 
 me it still appears a literary gem. The charm of the delivery is a thing not 
 to be perpetuated on paper. It was such as, in the recollection, amazes me. 
 Tones and attitudes pass with the instant. But so lasting is the impression 
 which they can make, that, as I now read the piece, I could, if I had the 
 talent of imitation, reproduce the modulations and the action which accom- 
 panied almost every sentence. And memory fills up the picture with the men 
 and women of that day, as, when I turned for a moment from the speaker, I 
 saw them hanging entranced upon his accents. 
 
 In the forenoon of the 2d day of June, 1812, I went into his study. It was 
 one of those chilly days which we sometimes have at that season. He was 
 sitting by a fire, reading Southey's Thalaba, or curse of Kehama. I cannot 
 say how I knew this, unless he mentioned the book to me. I observed that 
 he was thoughtful, and did not trouble him, but soon withdrew after wander- 
 ing a little about his book-shelves. That night there was a violent access of 
 the disease which had long threatened his life, and which proved fatal within 
 the week. 
 
 I have seen days of sorrow in Boston; but I still think I never saw one like 
 the day when his death was announced. The afternoon of his Funeral was 
 stormy, but the church was so thronged that great numbers sought admit- 
 tance in vain. All the bells of the town were tolled, and in the streets through 
 which the long procession passed, the shops were closed. Dr. Kirkland, Presi- 
 dent of the University, preached. Sobs were heard all about the church in 
 the pauses of the choir while it sang the hymn which begins, 
 
 ' Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb ! 
 
 " Take this new treasure to thy trust, 
 " And give these sacred relics room 
 
 " To seek a slumber in the dust." 
 
 He was buried in the cemetery of King's Chapel. I can still see the forms of 
 men, now honoured by history, as, in the rain, they bowed weeping over the 
 open tomb. The remains were conveyed, a few days after, to the tomb of his 
 relative and life-long friend, Mr. Theodore Lyman, atWaltham. In 1842 they 
 were disinterred and placed beneath a monument erected at Mount Auburn by 
 some of those whose tender and admiring love for him survived. I had then 
 ceased to stand in the place where he had ministered, but I was desired to 
 speak the simple words of commemoration, which it was thought fit should 
 make a part of the proceedings. The grief of that company was something 
 strange, as we stood again so near to what of our friend had been mortal, on 
 the thirtieth anniversary of the day when it was first buried from our sight. 
 
 Two months after his death, Mr. Edward Everett, then recently graduated 
 from College, pronounced a poem before the Phi Beta Kappa Society at its 
 annual celebration. A tribute which it contained to Mr. Buckminster was 
 received by a vast audience with an emotion which showed how ready for a 
 master's hand was the chord that was touched in the public heart. Mr. 
 Everett had been portraying a bright future age of American literature, and 
 he proceeded, in lines which I quote from memory, and perhaps not with 
 exactness, as it is long since I saw them, 
 
 " To scenes like these had roving fancy led, 
 
 " And hope was nattered, as the prospect spread. 
 
 " E'en now she saw a glorious star arise, 
 
 " And marked its future pathway up the skies, 
 
JOSEPH STEVENS BOCKMINSTEK. 405 
 
 " Saw its kind influence guiding future days, 
 
 " And unborn ages wakened by its rays. 
 
 " But Heaven's dread hand bath quenched each genial flame, 
 
 " The glow of genius and the light of fame; 
 
 " Hath aimed, unwarned, that sad and fatal blow 
 
 '■' Which robes the forms of bliss in veils of woe, 
 
 " Just showed the admiring world, and bade depart 
 
 " The noblest reason and the warmest heart. 
 
 '■ Faith yields the priest, with sorrow and complaint, 
 
 " And weeping virtue envies Heaven the saint. 
 
 " What sorrowing drops the public eye have wet, 
 
 " So bright a star, and so untimely set ! 
 
 "But oh. what pangs the secret bosom rend, 
 
 " So fond a brother, and so true a friend ! 
 
 " Farewell, thou blest ! too dark thy lot appears, 
 " But faith looks up, though sight is dim with tears. 
 " Serve thine own Master through the eternal hours, 
 -" In nearer presence, and with nobler powers. 
 " Go with thy sire, for Heaven, in judgment kind, 
 " The chain of filial friendship spared to unbind. 
 " Or was that chord of love so finely spun 
 " That joined the secret souls of sire and son, 
 " That each unconscious, owned the fateful blow, 
 '■ And nature felt what reason could not know ? "• 
 
 After Mr. Buckminster's death, the first time that I entered the room 
 where I had been used to see him sitting among his books, was in April, 1818, 
 when I visited it to attend to some arrangements for me to occupy it as his 
 successor. It was no longer the same. It had been divided into two apart- 
 ments, and so it continued as long as the house stood. But I had one more 
 opportunity of seeing it in something like the ancient form. On an evening in 
 October, 1855, while workmen were tearing down the house, I climbed over the 
 frame-work of stairs which had conducted to the place where, in my school- 
 boy days, Mr. Buckminster had laid down his book to welcome me. The 
 partition had been removed, and the lights from the neighbouring houses 
 revealed the chamber in the old proportions. I should have been alone but 
 for a crowd of memories. 
 
 What Mr. Buckminster would have become, had time been granted to realize 
 the whole of the rare promise of his few years, would not be a profitable sub- 
 ject for conjecture. What is certain is, that his short life has borne precious 
 and imperishable fruits. Every thing about him was captivating, — his face, 
 his presence, his voice, his winning manners, at once so graceful and so hearty, 
 his quick sympathy with all things beautiful and good, his keen relish alike 
 for sense and for wit, his elegant accomplishments, his exquisite taste, his 
 precocious knowledge. It followed that whatever he venerated and loved was 
 presented to other minds with singular attractiveness. His enthusiasm for 
 the excellent was contagious. The religion for which he pleaded was invested 
 with all associations that made it seem honourable and lovely. He imper- 
 sonated the beauty of holiness. Some men and women still live to testify from 
 their grateful memories, and by the happiness and usefulness of their Chris- 
 tian lives, to the influence which he exerted; and far larger numbers owed it 
 to him that, in their day, they rendered the services and set the example, of 
 which the living generation reaps the benefit. 
 
 Since his time, New England has won a recognized place in the realm of 
 letters. Looking back through fifty years, I hold nothing to be more sure 
 than that much of the impulse that has achieved that triumph is to be traced 
 to him of whom I make this desultory record. An admiring company of 
 
 * The allusion in the last lines is to the death of Mr. Buckminster's father, — the eminent 
 minister of Portsmouth, N. H., — who died a few hours later, while absent from hid home on 
 a. journey ; — the illness of neither son nor father being known to the other. 
 
406 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 young men was inspired with his generous love of learning. Norton, Ticknor, 
 Frothingham, the Everetts, were among those who came within the circle of 
 his personal companionship. Sparks, Prescott, Bancroft, felt the influence at 
 a further remove. The more numerous scholars who have won a name in 
 later days, have known him only by the traditions of their circle; but the 
 propitious atmosphere in which their genius has been unfolded owes more of 
 its nourishing quality to no other mind. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, with high regard, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 J. G. PALFREY. 
 
 FROM JOHN C. WARREN, M. D. 
 
 PROFESSOR IN THE MEDICAL DEPARTMENT 01? HARVARD COLLEGE. 
 
 Beookline. August 20, 1849. 
 
 Dear Sir: The last illness of the late Rev. Mr. Buckminster was not fruitful 
 in exhibitions of his mental power or moral feelings. From the hour of his 
 attack to the moment of his death, his intellect was obscured by the violent 
 operation of his disease. You are aware, I suppose, that he was subject, for 
 many years, to epileptic attacks. One of these, owing to physical and intel- 
 lectual exhaustion, was brought on, the 3d of June, 1812, and deprived him 
 of consciousness, with very slight exceptions, till the 9th of June, the day of 
 his death. During this time, he lay, for the most part, in one position, 
 breathing heavily, taking the drinks and medicines presented to him, and 
 occasionally murmuring a few words for the most part inarticulate, but which, 
 on one or two occasions, appeared to be an effort at prayer. He did not suffer 
 pain during the whole of his illness, and expired in a tranquil manner. 
 
 On examination of the body, the most remarkable appearances, which were 
 discovered, lay in the brain. This organ was not of unusually large size, as 
 it sometimes is in persons of great genius, but was quite remarkable for the 
 distinctness and beauty of its organization. In persons deficient in mental 
 power, the structure of the brain is comparatively indistinct, and its different 
 parts run into each other in a confused way. In Mr. Buckminster, on the 
 contrary, all the different parts of the brain were very distinct, and those 
 considered most important were more largely developed than usual. 
 
 There was one remarkable appearance of a morbid nature. Wenzel, a Ger- 
 man anatomist; was of opinion that the cause of epilepsy lay in a part of the 
 brain called the pituitary gland, and in the osseous cavity which encloses this 
 gland. The osseous cavity in the case was found to be distorted by a morbid 
 growth of the clinoid processes, which, to a certain extent, compressed the 
 pituitary gland, and this gland was converted into a caseous substance. In 
 the case of Governor Sullivan, a friend and parishioner of Mr. Buckminster, 
 who was also subject to severe epileptic attacks, the same phenomena were 
 presented. The brain, though not large, was highly organized. The cella 
 turcica and the pituitary gland were in precisely the same state as that just 
 described. 
 
 These are all the circumstances relating to Mr. Buckminster's illness and 
 death which have occurred to me. 
 
 I remain, dear Sir, with much respect, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 J. C. "WARREN. 
 
JAMES FLINT. 407 
 
 JAMES FLINT, D. D * 
 
 1806—1855. 
 
 James Flint, a son of James and Mary Flint, was born in Reading, 
 Mass., on the 10th of December, 1779. His parents were plain but 
 worthy people, who educated their children to habits of industry and 
 virtue. He was fitted for College under the instruction of the Rev. Eliab 
 Stone, Pastor of the Congregational Church in his native place, and, at a 
 very early age, received a decided impulse towards the clerical profession. 
 At the age of eighteen he entered Harvard College ; but, owing either to 
 the state of his health or his straitened pecuniary circumstances, he was 
 absent for considerable periods during his college course, though he still 
 maintained a highly respectable standing as a scholar, and was graduated 
 with honour in the class of 1802. His genial disposition, and ready wit, 
 and fine powers of conversation, rendered him a favourite in College, and 
 secured to him many valuable and enduring friendships. 
 
 • On leaving College, he was engaged for a year or two as Principal of an 
 Academy at Andover, his studies, meanwhile, taking the direction of his 
 subsequent calling. After this he became a student of Theology under 
 the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Joshua Bates, of Dedham. In due time he was 
 licensed to preach, and his first efforts in the pulpit gave promise of much 
 more than an ordinary degree of popularity. He was very soon called to the 
 pastoral care of the Congregational Society in East Bridgewater : he 
 accepted this call, and was ordained on the 29th of October, 1806, — the 
 Sermon being preached by his brother, the Rev. Jacob Flint, of Cohasset. 
 Though he had been educated in the Orthodox faith of New England, he 
 had, in the progress of his studies, become a decided Unitarian ; and, 
 though his new views were acceptable to much the larger part of his parish, 
 there was a minority who demurred, and ultimately withdrew and formed 
 a new Orthodox Society. What the distinctive type of his Unitarianism 
 was at last, I have not been able to learn ; though, in his earlier years, he 
 is understood to have been an Arian. 
 
 Mr. Flint remained in happy relations with his people at East Bridge- 
 water until the spring of the year 1821, when, on account of the inade- 
 quacy of his salary to meet the wants of a large family, he felt constrained 
 to resign his pastoral charge. Shortly after this, he accepted an invitation 
 from the East Society in Salem, Mass., then recently rendered vacant by 
 the death of the Rev. William Bentley, D. D. Here he was installed on 
 the 19th of September, 1821, and here he passed the residue of his life, in 
 the midst of a community who appreciated his extraordinary qualities, and 
 were ever ready to do him honour. He received the degree of Doctor of 
 Divinity from Harvard College, in 1825. The close of his life was marked 
 by intense suffering; but, in the midst of it, he exclaimed, — " Though He 
 slay me, yet will I trust in Him ; " and " I know thou wilt never leave me 
 nor forsake me." He died on the 4th of March, 1855, in the seventy- 
 
 * Car. Exam., 1855. — Communication from his family. 
 
408 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 sixth year of his age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by the Kev. 
 Dexter Clapp. 
 
 Dr. Flint was married to Lydia, daughter of George and Sarah Dublois, 
 of Halifax, Nova Scotia, who, with several children, survived him. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Flint's publications : — 
 
 The Christian Ministry, the Qualifications requisite for it, its Duties, 
 Difficulties, Discouragements, &c, considered in Two Sermons delivered 
 before tho Church and Society in the East Parish of Bridgewate'r, the 
 Second Sabbath after the Author's Ordination, 1806. A Sermon preached 
 at the Ordination of the Kev. Nathaniel Whitman, as Colleague with the 
 Rev. Henry Cummings, D. D., to the Pastoral Care of the Church and 
 Society in Billerica, 1814. God a Refuge and an Habitation in times of 
 Calamity and Danger : a Discourse delivered at the request of the Of6cer3 
 and Soldiers of the Bridgewater Light Infantry, upon the occasion of their 
 appearing in the House of God to give Public Thanks for their Safe Return 
 to their Families and Friends from doing duty in Defence of the Common- 
 wealth, 1814. A Discourse delivered before the Governor, the Lieutenant 
 Governor, the Honourable Council, and the two branches of the Common- 
 wealth of Massachusetts, on the Anniversary Election, 1815. A Discourse 
 delivered at Plymouth, on the Twenty Second of December, at the Anni- 
 versary Commemoration of the First Landing of our Ancestors at that 
 place, 1816. A Discourse delivered at the Ordination of Seth Alden 
 to the Pastoral Care of the Church and Society in the Second Parish 
 in Marlborough, 1819. A Sermon delivered in the meeting house of the 
 First Parish in Beverly, on the occasion of the lamented Death of the Rev. 
 Abiel Abbot, D. D., 1828. A Sermon on the Authority and Duties of the 
 Sabbath, (published in the Liberal Preacher,) 1828. A Sermon on Indo- 
 lence, (published in the Liberal Preacher,) 1829. Change : a Poem de- 
 livered before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, of Harvard University, (printed, 
 not published,) 1839. A Collection of Hymns for the Christian Church 
 and Home, 1843; The Vanity and Unsatisfactory Nature of Earthly 
 Possessions, Pursuits and Pleasures : a Discourse delivered in the North 
 Church, Salem, 1844. Two Discourses on Taking Leave of the Old Church 
 of the East Society in Salem, 1845. The Deceased Pastor still speaking 
 to his Flock: A Discourse delivered in the North Church in Salem, the 
 first Sabbath on which the Church was opened after the Decease of the Rev. 
 John Brazer, late Pastor of the Congregation worshipping in said Church, 
 1846. A Sermon delivered by request of the Committee in the Unitarian 
 Church in Marblehead, the Sabbath after the Death of the Rev. John 
 Bartlett, 1849. Times of Birth and Death the Appointment and Ordering 
 of God : A Sermon preached in the East Church in Salem, on occasion of 
 the Death of President Taylor, and of the Death of the Hon. Nathaniel 
 Silsbee, 1850. Sermons, (a volume 12mo,) 1852. Verses on Many Occa- 
 sions, with others for which it may be thought there was No Occasion. 
 Collected and printed for his Grand-children, one volume, 8vo. 
 
 I had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Flint several times, and on one occa- 
 sion particularly had a pretty long interview with him, which brought out 
 some of the prominent features of his character as they are represented in 
 the letters that follow. I was struck with the exactness of his memory in 
 
JAMES FLINT. 409 
 
 regard to some things which I had good reason to remember, hut which I 
 had a right to presume he had forgotten. On every subject that came up 
 he seemed to be well informed and to have a definite opinion ; though I 
 observed nothing of dogmatism in his manner of statiDg it. I remember 
 that the portrait of Dr. Bentley, his predecessor in the ministry, was hanging 
 in the room where we sat, and some inquiry that I made in respect to Dr. 
 B. set him to talking about him with great earnestness, — I might almost 
 say enthusiasm. He had a very high estimate of his natural powers, and 
 though he acknowledged his eccentricities, he gave him credit for u, greater 
 amount of public usefulness than I had generally heard attributed to him. 
 He was a large man, of commanding appearance, but his manners were 
 rather plain and direct than polished. I never saw him when he did not 
 manifest a kindly and accommodating spirit, though there was that about 
 him that showed that he could sometimes, in the fervour of his soul, utter 
 words to be remembered for their severity as well as their power. 
 
 FROM MISS ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 Boston, December 18, 1855. 
 
 My dear Sir: You have so kind an appreciation of all my efforts to recall my 
 friends for you to immortalize, that I am grieved when I cannot answer your 
 wishes. But I only knew Dr. Flint slightly: though, as he was settled in the 
 home of my youth, to which I have always been in the habit of returning for 
 visits, and was familiar with some of my dearest friends, who had great 
 delight in him, I feel as if I all but knew him myself. 
 
 He was of a poetical turn of mind, and, I think, felt very much the imper- 
 fections of this scene of things. He was not at all fitted for the cares of life. 
 They annoyed him more than they do most men. This gave a sort of pathos 
 to his turn of thought and expression. His very voice was plaintive. And 
 3'et his intellect was clear enough to seize the ideal of every thing, and gleamed 
 like a smile through tears. I do not mean to imply there was the weakness 
 of qnerulousness about him. His intellect raised him above that. But his 
 joyfulness in the beauty of nature and the vision of the ideal never rose to 
 the pitch of triumph. 
 
 It is true I did not know him much after the death of his cousin Timothy 
 Flint,* to whom he was united in the bonds of a rare friendship, and 
 
 •Timothy Flint was born in North Reading, Mass., in July, 1780. He was graduated 
 at Harvard College in 1800, and, having entered the Ministry of the Congregational Church, 
 was settled at Lunenburg, Mass., in 18U2. He was a diligent student of the natural sciences, 
 and his chemical experiments led some ignorant persons to charge him with counterfeiting 
 coin. He prosecuted them for slander, and a difficulty ensued, which, aggravated by political 
 differences, led to the resignation of his pastoral charge in 1814. He then preached in 
 various parts of New England, and, in September, 1815, set out as a missionary to the West. 
 After passing seven or eight years in this capacity in the Ohio and Mississippi valleys, his 
 health became impaired, and he undertook to unite the two vocations of a farmer and a 
 teacher, at first near New Orleans, and afterwards on Red River. In 1825 he returned to 
 Massachusetts, greatly reduced in both health and fortune ; but the change of climate soon 
 invigorated his constitution, and from this time he devoted himself to writing various works 
 which procured for him considerable distinction as an author. His first work was Recollec- 
 tions of Ten Years passed in the Valley of the Mississippi, 8 vo., 1826. This was reprinted 
 in London, and translated into French. In the same year he brought out a work, entitled 
 Francis Berrian, or the Mexican Patriot. His next publication was a Condensed Geography 
 and History of the Western States in the Mississippi Valley, 2 vols. 8vo., 1828. The same 
 year, he removed to Cincinnati, where he edited, for three years, the " Western Review." In 
 1833 he went to New York, and edited a few numbers of the Knickerbocker Magazine. He 
 afterwards took up his residence in Alexandria, D. C, spending most of his summers, how- 
 ever, in New England. His principal works, besides those mentioned above, are Arthur 
 Clenning (a novel) 2 vols. 12 mo., 1828; George Mason or the Backwoodsman; Shoshonee 
 Valley, 2 vols., 1830; A Translation of Droz, Essai sur Part d'etre heureuse, 1832; Indian 
 
410 
 
 UNITAEIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 from whose loss he never recovered. But his sorrow for this loss and for that 
 of a daughter, who was a, principal charm of his home, was not from any doubt 
 of God's goodness, or of an immortal re-union; for these were cherished 
 articles of his creed. Like all poetical natures, he had an intense sense of 
 what mere human life had of richness and beaut}', or rather might have. His 
 preaching was full of resigned religious sentiment, rather than overflowing 
 with the joy of believing. He seemed to think life an evil to be borne rather 
 than an opportunity for victory. 
 
 It may be that I exaggerate this side of his character ; but such was its 
 aspect to me in such opportunities as I had of viewing him. But I think you 
 had better seek the testimony of some one who saw him in various lights, and 
 at different periods of his life. I have read his colleague's Sermon on his death, 
 and know nothing to make me doubt its being a faithful picture. It certainly 
 is of his intellectual character, which I had more opportunities to observe 
 than of his strictly pastoral and clerical character. 
 
 Regretting that I am able to say so little that can be to your purpose, 
 I am respectfully and truly yours, 
 
 B. P. PEABODY. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ANDREW P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Cambridge, October 30, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir: I knew Dr. Flint as well as the difference in our years would 
 permit. In very boyhood I often saw him, and preached for him repeatedly 
 in the early part of my ministry, and not unfrequently met him in his old age. 
 The strongest impression he has left upon me is that he was, from first to last, 
 out of gearing with the actual world. He was a man of great talent, but not 
 of a proportional power of influence. He had the graces, and with them some 
 of the unfortunate liabilities of a highly poetic temperament. His best ser- 
 mons were among the best that I have ever heard; but they had in them more 
 of the anthem than of the homily, and were better adapted to edify the devout, 
 than to convert the unbeliever or reclaim the sinner. I doubt whether he 
 ever had regular habits of study. He wrote under the impulse of a strong 
 afflatus, and his discourses lacked therefore the logical basis and frame work 
 essential to their fullest efficiency. He shone peculiarly in conversation. I 
 have never heard a more eloquent talker. His powers of narration and 
 description were so fine that what he related seemed to his hearers their own 
 personal experience. On moral and religious subjects he, at times, uttered 
 himself with singular unction and beauty. He loved music, had in middle 
 life a voice of great compass and richness, and, if I remember right, per- 
 formed on one or more instruments. In temper he was kind, but irascible; 
 strong in his friendships, and full as strong as ever becomes a Christian in his 
 dislikes. He was too sensitive to be well fitted for the necessary encounters 
 and collisions of professional life, and he felt keenly the inevitable experiences 
 of his declining years. Indeed his whole pilgrimage was one of numerous 
 trials and burdens, which were often made so only by his keen susceptibility 
 of suffering. But his power of enjoyment was proportionally vivid and intense. 
 As I look back upon the years in which I knew him familiarly, I think of him 
 as having been less " at home in the body " than any good man I ever knew; 
 but my memories of him are such as easily and pleasantly connect themselves 
 with the home to which I trust he has been welcomed. 
 
 As a Preacher, he was, during the first years of his settlement in Salem, 
 
 Wars in the West, 12 mo., 1833; Lectures on Natural History, Geology, Chemistry, and the 
 Arts, 12 mo., 1833 ; Memoir of Daniel Boone, 18 mo., 1834. He also contributed to the 
 London Athenaeum, in 1835, a series of papers on American literature. He died in Salem, 
 Mass., August 16, 1840. 
 
JAMES FLINT. 
 
 411 
 
 very popular throughout that entire neighbourhood; but in his later years I 
 think his preaching attracted less attention. His social powers and his warm 
 sympathies made him a favourite in the families of his flock; he loved children; 
 he drew strongly towards him the hearts of the afflicted, and was always 
 prompt and felicitous in the discharge of specific pastoral duties on marked 
 occasions; — but his lack of method and his desultory habits of labour no 
 doubt rendered gifts and graces like his less efficiently useful in his parochial 
 walks than they might have been with a more persistent and systematic 
 industry. I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 A. P. PBABODY. 
 
 NATHAN PARKER, D. D* 
 
 1807—1833. 
 
 Nathan Parker was born at Reading, Mass., June 5, 1782. His 
 father was a respectable farmer, aud had a high appreciation of learning, 
 which led him, at some sacrifice, to give his son the advantages of a colle- 
 giate education. Accordingly, the son having been fitted for College under 
 the instruction of his relative, the Rev. Joseph Willard.t of Boxborough, 
 was entered as a Freshman in Harvard College, at the age of seventeen, 
 and was graduated in 1803. 
 
 The year after his graduation he spent in Worcester, as the teacher of a 
 grammar-school, intending, at that time, to enter the profession of the 
 Law. He, however, subsequently changed his purpose, and, the year fol- 
 lowing, commenced the study of Theology under the direction of the Rev. 
 Dr. Bancroft, and, at the same time, went to reside in his family. A very 
 warm and affectionate attachment now grew up between the teacher and 
 pupil, which seems to have been a source of high mutual satisfaction in 
 subsequent years. 
 
 In 1805 he accepted an invitation to a Tutorship in Bowdoin College, 
 which office he held for two years. Having, in the mean time, been 
 licensed to preach, he supplied various pulpits in the neighbourhood, as 
 occasion or opportunity presented. In May, 1808, he preached, by way 
 of exchange, in the pulpit of the South Parish of Portsmouth, at that time 
 vacant in consequence of the death of Dr. Haven. The impression made 
 by his services was so decidedly favourable that there was a general desire 
 to hear him further, and the result was that, in July following, he 
 received from the Church and Society a call to become their minister. 
 He accepted the call, and was ordained and installed on the 14th of Sep- 
 tember, the Rev. Dr. Bancroft, his theological instructor, preaching the 
 Sermon. 
 
 * Memoir by Rev. Henry Ware, Jr. 
 
 f Joseph Willard was born at Grafton, Mass., in January, 1742; was graduated at Har- 
 vard College in 1765 ; was ordained, and installed Pastor of the Church in Mendon, April 19 
 J 769 ; was dismissed on the 4th of December, 1782 ; was installed at Boxborough, on the 2d of 
 November, 1785 ; and died on the 13th of September, 1828, aged eighty-six years. He published 
 a Sermon preached at Mendon, 1781. 
 
412 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In 1820 the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by 
 Bowdoin College. In 1824 he delivered the Dudleian Lecture in Har- 
 vard University. 
 
 About 1821 he began to be sensible of difficulty in both his breathing 
 and speech, originating in the upper part of his nostrils. He was obliged, 
 after a while, to submit to a surgical process for the removal of a polypus, 
 and this process it was found necessary, from time to time, to repeat. But 
 the disease could not be arrested ; and he could not but be fully aware of 
 the gradual inroads which it was making upon his constitution ; but he 
 endured it, year after year, with great fortitude, making much less account 
 of the suffering to which it subjected him than of the paralytic influence 
 which it exerted over his faculties, thereby greatly lessening his ability to 
 labour. In June, 1830, he made a journey to Saratoga Springs, visiting 
 at some of the intermediate places, in the hope that change of air and 
 relaxation might benefit his health ; but in this hope he was disappointed. 
 In the spring of 1832 his disorder assumed a new complexion, and seemed 
 to be rapidly extending itself to the lungs. He was obliged now to cease 
 from preaching ; and, in August following, he visited the Isle of Shoals, in 
 the hope of being benefitted by change of air and retirement. On his 
 return, he submitted his case to some of the most distinguished physicians 
 in Boston, and the result of his conference with them seems to have been 
 that he was somewhat encouraged in regard to the prospect of continued 
 life. In a letter to a friend about this time he wrote as follows : — 
 
 '•' The prospect that my disease will soon come to a fatal issue, I do not consider as 
 certain as I once did. It seems to me more probable that I may be called to pass 
 years of infirmity and uselessness; and I must confess that the anticipation is far 
 more painful to me than that of a speedy death. But I will not distrust that merciful 
 Being who has hitherto sustained me, nor the consolations which are in Christ Jesus. 
 In my sickness I have been wonderfully supported; my mind has been preserved in 
 great serenity, and my religious trust has not been for a moment shaken. Though 
 there is, at times, a degree of tearfulness, when I look forward to the future trials 
 which may await me, yet I am not cast down in the anticipation of them, but stay 
 myself on the promises of God, and submit myself to his disposal. All will be well, I 
 doubt not." 
 
 His friends were now very desirous that he should escape from the rig- 
 ours of a Northern climate, and try the effect of a winter's residence in 
 Cuba ; but he preferred to remain in the midst of his congregation. In 
 the course of the next summer, his health seemed slightly improved, in>o- 
 much that, for a few Sabbaths, he was able to preach ; but it proved only 
 a transient revival. It had become now a serious question with him 
 whether, in consideration of his enfeebled state and his probable incapacity 
 for any future service, it was not his duty to resign his pastoral charge ; 
 but his parish, instead of listening to such a suggestion, immediately 
 resolved to provide him with a colleague. Accordingly, Mr. Andrew P. 
 Peabody, who had, for some time, been a resident of Portsmouth, was fixed 
 upon as a suitable person for the place ; and, having accepted a call, was 
 ordained and installed on the 24th of October, 1833. From this time 
 Dr. Parker's decline became more rapid; and, on the 6th of November, 
 he intimated to his physician that the time of his departure was at hand. 
 He proceeded now, in the midst of extreme suffering, to make such arrange- 
 ments of his worldly affairs as he deemed necessary, and, after two days, 
 
NATHAN PABKER. 
 
 413 
 
 quietly breathed his last. His Funeral Sermon was preached by his inti- 
 mate friend, the Rev. Dr. Nichols of Portland. 
 
 In 1815 he was married to Susan, daughter of the Hon. John Picker- 
 ing, Chief Justice of New Hampshire. They had two children, one of 
 whom died in infancy ; the other (Francis Edward) was graduated at Har- 
 vard College in 1841, and is a lawyer of high standing in Boston. Mrs. 
 Parker died in Boston in January, 1858. 
 
 Dr. Parker published a Sermon at the Funeral of the Rev. Joseph Buck- 
 minster, D. D., 1812 ; the New Hampshire Election Sermon, 1819 ; au 
 Address to the Teachers of the South Parish Sunday School, 1820 ; and a 
 Sermon at the Dedication of the New Church belonging to his Parish, 
 1826. He also contributed one or more Sermons to the Liberal Preacher. 
 After his death, a volume of his Sermons was published, with a Memoir, 
 by the Eev. Henry Ware, Jr. 
 
 I became acquainted with Dr. Parker first on a visit which I made to 
 Portsmouth, while I was a student in College, about the year 1813. He 
 was a boarder at the house where I stopped, and I was very soon attracted 
 by his genial spirit and fine social qualities. After I entered the ministry 
 I was several times in Portsmouth, and never without having one or more 
 interviews with Dr. P. After my settlement in Albany, and not long 
 before his death, he came and passed a day with me, giving me an oppor- 
 tunity for more continuous intercourse with him than I had before enjoyed. T 
 found him then, as always, frank and generous in his spirit, and evincing a 
 clear, well balanced and highly cultivated mind. He manifested no dispo- 
 sition to converse on subjects on which we differed, and said nothing which 
 could, even by implication, be considered as derogatory to any denomina- 
 tion of Christians or any system of faith. There was great point in many 
 of his remarks, and occasionally a flash of wit as bright as it was easy and 
 natural. I remember his expressing to me the highest reverence for his 
 Orthodox neighbour, Dr. Buckminster, as well as the most unqualified 
 admiration for his yet more distinguished son. Dr. Buckminster-, though 
 aware that he was an Arian, continued his ministerial exchanges with him 
 as long as Dr. B. lived. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ANDREW P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Portsmouth, N. H., September 9, 1850. 
 
 My dear Sir: You have, in the Memoir of Dr. Parker, by the Rev. Henry 
 Ware, Jr., all the leading incidents of his life, together with a just and felici- 
 tous sketch of his character. I cheerfully take upon myself, at your request, 
 the easy task of recording some of my remembrances of him, and impressions 
 concerning him. 
 
 I first saw Dr. Parker when I was in College. He was the Dudleian Lec- 
 turer for the year. His fame as a Preacher had preceded him, and we stu- 
 dents had our expectations perhaps extravagantly raised, especially as, in 
 those days of slow coaches, New Hampshire was a terra incognita to the 
 greater portion of us; and a reputation which could reach all the way from 
 Portsmouth to Cambridge, seemed little less than world-wide. As he entered 
 the chapel and ascended the pulpit, I was struck with the simple diguity of 
 his air and mien, and with the traces at once of mental vigour and moral dig- 
 nity in his countenance. His prayer was fervent and impressive. The hymn 
 before sermon was read with so much feeling as to have made it a favourite 
 
414 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 hymn with me from that day to the present time. But the Lecture itself, 
 which was on Presbyterian Ordination, gave general disappointment. It 
 showed traces of a vigorous mind, but was brief, fragmentary and rather 
 jejune. After his decease, I found it among his manuscripts. I read, in whole 
 or in part, some hundreds of his sermons; and I express no more than my 
 then belief, when I say that this was decidedly inferior to all the rest. It 
 was probably the only sermon which, subsequently to his Ordination, he 
 wrote without primary reference to the needs of his own people. It was 
 written during a painfully eventful season in his pastoral experience, and the 
 parish sermons of that season were, perhaps, on the whole, of a higher order 
 than of any other period of equal length. 
 
 In the autumn of 1828 I first became acquainted with Dr. Parker, and was 
 for fifteen months his parishioner, a teacher in his Sunday School, and a fre- 
 quent visitor at his house. I left Portsmouth to pursue my professional 
 studies, and, in the autumn of 1833, was ordained as his colleague. On the 
 day of my Ordination, the disease which had incapacitated him for the public 
 services of his profession, assumed a fatal stamp, and my only remaining 
 privilege near him was to witness the fortitude with which he bore the 
 severest bodily suffering, and the serenity with which he resigned himself to 
 approaching dissolution. 
 
 In looking back upon all that I saw or knew of him, I think of him as a fine 
 example of both the sterner and the milder virtues. I can hardly conceive of 
 his having been betrayed even into a momentary manifestation or utterance, 
 which his best friend would have occasion to regret. Yet his was not a tame . 
 or passive nature, but had full as many and various elements that required 
 the mellowing touch of Divine grace, in order to their healthful working, as 
 can be found in almost any strongly marked character. He had a resolute 
 will, which would have been stubborn for evil, but which, consecrated to 
 exalted ends, seemed to sweep into its own uses whatever might have retarded 
 or opposed. He must have had strong passions; for every expression of his 
 emotional nature was quick and earnest; and his moral indignation at mean- 
 ness or vice was even vehement; yet it is believed that none could remember, 
 in his varied social intercourse, a single word or act inconsistent with genuine 
 meekness. He looked through character with an insight such as I have rarely, 
 if ever, known in any other man, and I doubt whether he was ever imposed 
 upon ; yet he was eminently kind in his judgment, always ready to suggest all 
 possible excuses and palliations for the wrong-doer, careful of the reputation 
 of the absent, and solicitous to bring to light whatever there was of good in 
 the most faulty and unworthy. He had a keen wit and a rich fund of humour; 
 yet even this perilous endowment was redeemed from its usual desecration to 
 personality and censoriousness, and employed only when it could aid the 
 unrippled flow of genial feeling, or subserve the interests of virtue. He had 
 also a bodily and mental constitution, in no part sluggish or unimpressible, 
 but open to excitement and enjoyment through every avenue, so that he must 
 have found occasion, especially in the earlier part of his course, for incessant 
 watchfulness and strenuous self-discipline. 
 
 As to his profession, it appeared not so much that of his choice as of his 
 nature. It sat easily upon him, and he had no life apart from it. It was the 
 habit which, without a conscious effort, clothed his words, his manners, his 
 daily walk. Yet, of w r hat is commonly called a clerical manner, that is, a 
 style of countenance, voice or gesture, taken on at set times, in a professional 
 capacity, he had none. His tones in preaching, in pastoral visitation, by the 
 bed of the sick and dying, differed in no wise from what they might have been 
 in serious conversation with his own brother or child. His voice and gesture 
 in public and social prayer betrayed no conscious reference to the presence of 
 
NATHAN PABKER. 
 
 415 
 
 others, and could hardly have been otherwise, had he been praying alone in 
 an audible voice. In his parochial walks he assumed nothing on the score of 
 his profession, never on any occasion delivered monologues or harangues on 
 religious subjects, or made any discernible effort to force conversation into 
 religious channels; yet somehow he never left a house without having drop- 
 ped the word in season, to be recalled and dwelt upon after he had gone, and 
 in many instances to prove the seed even of a life-long harvest of good. His 
 air was not even that of one watching for the opportunity of giving religious 
 counsel, but that of one "who could not help turning to some good account 
 every occasion of social intercourse. 
 
 For a man of his capacity of more extended reputation and influence, Dr. 
 Parker was peculiar in devoting himself to his own parish. He shunned, so 
 far as he could, all public engagements abroad, and, when obliged to yield to 
 them, generally met them by the use of bis parish sermons. He assumed, in 
 his own community, such collateral duties, literary and educational, as usu- 
 ally devolve upon a clergyman, only so far as he could not conscientiously set 
 them aside. He seems to have regarded every hour given to any extraneous 
 object, as defrauding his own flock of some portion of their due care and nur- 
 ture. In this I think that he ran into an excess; for most men can be the 
 more useful within their own circle, by bestowing some time and energy 
 beyond it; while those who are best fitted to do good at home, can meet the 
 most edifyingly the essential calls for more extended services through the lec- 
 ture room, pulpit or press. But such as I have stated was his theory of min- 
 isterial duty, and he was rigidly faithful to it. 
 
 That he was revered and loved by his parish I need not say. It is not too 
 much to say that, for the last twenty years of his life, there was not a single 
 dissentient voice in his parish to the esteem for him as a man, and the prefer- 
 ence of him as a minister, beyond all others; and of those now living who sat 
 under his ministry, (though they have shown me every possible mark of confi- 
 dence and affection,) I do not believe that there is one who supposes that his 
 place has been or ever can'be supplied. 
 
 Dr. Parker was not a student in the common sense of the word. He had 
 but few books, and his incessant professional activity gave him little leisure. 
 Yet he was eminently a kaower on all subjects of theological and general lit- 
 erature. The little that he read was carefully chosen. He sought out the 
 index articles, or books on every subject. He made it his habit to become 
 conversant with every new phasis of importance in the realm of opinion or 
 sentiment. He knew where to find what he needed for current use. and never 
 left uninvestigated a topic of inquiry that interested him, for his own sake, or 
 in behalf of those who looked to him for guidance. His mind had rare 
 instincts of discovery, selection and assimilation, which gave him the fruits 
 of ripe scholarship with much less than the full labour of acquisition, — made 
 him essentially a learned man without the usual toil of the learner. 
 
 I have already said something of the character of his public discourses. 
 During the fifteen months in which I heard him preach, I heard not a sermon 
 which even a stranger would have deemed indifferent, while I should have 
 found it hard to refer to some as better than others. They were never defi- 
 cient in intellectual staple, — never mere good talks or rhapsodies of devout 
 sentiment, or pious exhortations. The frame of his sermon was always struno- 
 on a vertebral column of strong thought, — the product of the independent and 
 earnest action of his own mind. But he never preached a merely intellectual 
 sermon. Nor was the appeal to the heart simply an appendix to the discus- 
 sion, but it seemed to pervade the. whole discourse; so that reasoning and 
 moral expostulation, argument and persuasion, were blended in every sen- 
 tence; and the application, instead of being preserved for the close, was made 
 
416 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 and exhausted before the set time for it had arrived. His logic was close and 
 stringent, but its terms were transmuted into equivalents coined in the heart- 
 mint. This double character of his sermons was well seconded by his deliv- 
 ery. The tones of his voice were deep and full, capable of giving a sustained 
 majesty and dignity to his themes of discourse; and, at the same time, they 
 indicated strong and tender emotion, too much under the control of intellect 
 and will to degenerate into weakness or sentimentality. He used almost no 
 gesture, except that when peculiarly earnest in argument or exhortation, he 
 unconsciously employed the head to perform the office usually allotted to the 
 hands. But, with so little action, and with none of the artificial graces of 
 oratory, he yet lives in my remembrance as second in the impressiveness and 
 efficiency of his eloquence to no pulpit orator that I have ever heard; and I 
 may deem myself an impartial judge, as I came into his parish from the min- 
 istry of one, whom I regarded and still regard with the same affectionate 
 reverence with which my present parishioners cherish Dr. Parker's memory. 
 I believe, my dear Sir. that I have now given you all that can be peculiar or 
 personal in my remembrances of my predecessor. I can most cordially 
 endorse, in all its details, Dr. Ware's sketch of his character, which must 
 supersede the necessity of my adding more than to say how sincerely 
 
 I am your friend, 
 
 A. P. PBABODY. 
 
 JOHN BARTLETT.* 
 
 1807 — 1849. 
 
 John Bartlett was born in Concord, Mass., on the 22d of Blay, 1784, 
 being the fourth of a family of twelve children. His parents, who were 
 persons of great worth, survived to an advanced age. His early life was 
 passed under the ministry of the venerable Dr. Ripley, whom he always 
 continued to hold in reverent and grateful remembrance. In his childhood, 
 lie evinced a remarkably frank, cheerful, generous spirit, and was always 
 ready to put himself out of the way to confer a favour upon another. 
 When he was about seven years old, it is related of him that he was sent 
 to school wearing a pair of new shoes, but that he went home without them, 
 and, on being questioned in regard to the matter, he said that he had 
 given them to a poor boy whom he met in the street. The spirit which 
 this incident betokened, formed one of his prominent characteristics to the 
 close of life. 
 
 At an early age he was placed with a relative in Maine, with a view to 
 his engaging in mercantile pursuits. But, as his tastes were rather literary 
 than commercial, he returned, after a short time, to his family, who had 
 now removed to Cambridge — the late Professor Frisbie was at that time 
 living with them, and, under his instruction, young Bartlett very soon 
 completed his preparation for College. He entered at Harvard in 1801, 
 and, having sustained himself honourably throughout his whole course, in 
 respect to both scholarship and behaviour, graduated in 1805. Having 
 
 " Ware's Unitarian Biography. 
 
JOHN BARTLETT. 
 
 417 
 
 resolved on entering the ministry, he remained at Cambridge two years 
 after his graduation, engaged chiefly in the study of Theology. The 
 Chaplaincy of the Boston Almshouse having been offered to him, he 
 entered with great zeal on the discharge of its duties, and made it virtually 
 the first Ministry at Large in Boston. He devoted considerable attention, 
 at this period, to the study of Medicine, not with a view of ever engaging 
 in the practice of it, but that he might know better how to adapt his min- 
 istrations to the physical condition of the sick and the suffering. At his 
 suggestion, a meeting of wealthy and benevolent citizens was called, to con- 
 sider what measures should be taken to procure suitable treatment for the 
 insane, — which resulted in the establishment of the McLean Insane Hospi- 
 tal at Somerville. Through his instrumentality, also, a Society was formed 
 for affording relief to destitute families, during the trying period of the 
 Embargo. Of this Society he was the chief agent, and, in connection 
 with it, he performed a great amount of benevolent and highly effective 
 labour. 
 
 Mr. Bartlett was engaged in the Chaplaincy for about three years, and, 
 during at least a part of this time, continued his theological studies under 
 Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Channing. At the end of that period, he offered 
 himself as a candidate for settlement, and very soon received a unanimous 
 call to become the Pastor of the Second Congregational Church in Marble- 
 head. Having accepted this call, he was ordained on the 22d of May, 
 1811, the Kev. Dr. Holmes of Cambridge preaching the Ordination 
 Sermon. 
 
 Here Mr. Bartlett spent the remainder of his life. Besides attending 
 diligently to his duties which were strictly professional, he identified him- 
 self with various benevolent projects, some of which were outside of his 
 own denomination. He assisted in the formation and management of the 
 Humane Society of Marblehead, composed of ladies of different denomina- 
 tions, whose benefactions to the sick and needy have been extensively 
 useful. He was also a member of the Masonic Fraternity, and, for several 
 years, was charged with the inspection of the Lodges in Essex County. 
 He bestowed great attention upon the youth of his congregation, particu- 
 larly in connection with the Sunday School, the importance of which, as a 
 means of intellectual and moral culture, he thought it difficult to overrate. 
 
 Mr. Bartlett was at length suddenly arrested in his labours. Some two 
 years previous to his death, when his faculties and sensibilities had been, 
 for some time, unusually taxed by the desolations which had occurred in 
 many of the families of his flock, by reason of terrible marine disasters, 
 he was suddenly brought to a stand in the midst of the services of the 
 church, both his strength and his utterance having entirely failed him. It 
 was supposed that he experienced, at that time, a slight attack of paralysis. 
 His labours were now necessarily suspended, and arrangements were made 
 to enable him to recruit his exhausted energies. During the summer fol- 
 lowing, accompanied by his wife, he journeyed first to the interior of New 
 York, and passed several weeks with friends in the valley of the Mohawk. 
 Thence he went to Staten Island, where he spent the remainder of the 
 summer, and also made a short visit to "West Point, which seems to have 
 occasioned him high gratification. On his return home, he seemed some- 
 
 Vol. VIII. 27 
 
418 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 what improved in both health and spirits, and he undertook to resume his 
 accustomed labours. He quickly found, however, that it was impossible 
 for him to proceed, and there were now signs of no equivocal import that he 
 had nearly reached the end of his course. Added to his general weakness 
 was a difficulty at the chest, which greatly obstructed his breathing, and for 
 weeks prevented his sleeping except in a sitting posture. At length, in the 
 midst of a circle of devoted friends, and in the bosom of a community with 
 whom he had become most pleasantly identified by a residence among them 
 of nearly forty years, he sunk gently into his last slumber, on the morning 
 of February 3, 1849, in the sixty-fifth year of his age, and the thirty-eighth 
 of his ministry. 
 
 The following is a list of Mr. Bartlett's publications : — 
 
 God not the Author of Sin : A Discourse delivered before the Second 
 
 " Congregational Church and Society in Marblehead, 1819. Preaching Christ 
 
 in Love : A Discourse delivered before the Second Congregational Church 
 
 and Society in Marblehead, 1825. A Discourse delivered before the Second 
 
 Congregational Society in Marblehead, 1829. 
 
 Mr. Bartlett was married, in 1811, to Rebecca, daughter of George and 
 Sarah Dublois, of Halifax, Nova Scotia, by whom he had six children. Mrs. 
 Bartlett died on the 23d of December, 1858, aged eighty-two. 
 
 • FROM THE REV. A. P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Cambridge, December 26, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir: I avail myself of a brief interval of leisure to give you, as 
 I promised, my reminiscences of the Rev. Mr. Bartlett, of Marblehead. I 
 knew him in my early boyhood, having often seen him in the pulpit and 
 at the house of my Pastor, Rev. Dr. Abbot of Beverly. Again, in the latter 
 years of his life, I was on intimate terms with him, he having joined, at the 
 earnest solicitation of brethren many years younger than himself, a sort of 
 clerical club of which I was a member. In these years I repeatedly exchanged 
 with him, visited him, and became conversant with his domestic and pastoral 
 life and relations. 
 
 In temperament, and in the traits of his mental character and culture, he 
 was the most complete representative of the " golden mean " — if it be 
 golden — that I ever knew. He was always serene and happy, never elated 
 or buoyant. He was kind and genial in his manner, but with no empresse- 
 ment even toward his dearest friends. In conversation he was neither 
 sprightly nor dull; he contributed more than is often in the power of the most 
 gifted to the entertainment and profit of a social gathering or of a clerical 
 conference, yet, when the hour was over, you could recall nothing peculiarly 
 striking or brilliant to which he had given utterance. In his manners he was 
 modest and unobtrusive; yet self-possessed, easy and dignified. As to his 
 acquirements, he made no profession of scholarship, seemed to have only a 
 few obsolete books, and one would have thought was too busy to read much; 
 yet what it became him to know he always knew,' and in the discussions of our 
 club on subjects of Theology and Exegesis, he often supplemented the defi- 
 cient learning of those of us who had much to do with many books. His 
 sermons were always good, but never noteworthy, — impressive but not 
 exciting. His style was singularly chaste, pure and rythmical, but with no 
 strong points, with little ornament, and with little versatility. His treatment 
 of a subject was methodical, with distinctly stated divisions and often subdi- 
 visions, and with just that development of each which satisfied the demands 
 
JOHN BARTLETT. 419 
 
 of the occasion and fell short of the point of weariness. His voice might 
 remind one of the air of " Pleyel's Hymn," a rich melody compressed within 
 the range of three or four notes on the diatonic scale. His intonations were 
 more agreeable to the ear than those of any preacher whom I now call to 
 .d; but his delivery had so little compass of tone, and the cadences fell 
 
 ith such an unvarying ictus upon the auditory nerve, that from gratified and 
 aterested attention the passage to somnolence was by no means difficult. His 
 i.cceptableness as a Preacher corresponded very closely to the absence from all 
 extremes that I have remarked in his professional endowments. Wherever he 
 was wont to preach, the worshippers were glad to see him in the pulpit, and 
 felt, when the day closed, that it had been a good day; yet he was very little 
 asked for, or talked about in the churches. One thing I ought to mention, 
 though I bring it in aphoristically, — he was not a moderately good singer, 
 but he had a soprano voice of rare sweetness and power, and was wont to lead 
 the singing at social religious meetings, when there was no chorister present. 
 
 I come now to speak of gifts which he possessed in no moderate or ordinary 
 measure. As a Pastor or Minister, in his relations to his own flock and to 
 the people of Marblehead in general, he manifested, with an evident desire to 
 be faithful to the last degree, certain peculiar capacities and adaptations. He 
 studied Medicine to a considerable extent, before he became a Minister, and he 
 practised successfully among the poorer people of his parish and the town. 
 He was skilled in all the arts that contribute to the comfort and refinement 
 of home-life; and by his example, influence and generous aid, he exerted a 
 constantly elevating and refining agency for the less cultivated portion of the 
 community around him. He was active and successful as a peacemaker, and 
 suppressed a great deal of incipient litigation. He was an excellent business 
 man; drew ordinary legal instruments with accuracy, and took the very best 
 care of property. His services in this line were often put in requisition for 
 the care of the families of his seafaring parishioners, the writing of wills, the 
 administration of estates, and the guardianship of minors. Wherever it was 
 a charity to assume a charge of this class, he was always ready to undertake 
 it, however onerous. He attended the Probate Court almost as regularly as 
 the Judge and Registrar. At the same time, his almsgiving went to the out- 
 side limits of his ability. During the early part of his ministry, when 
 Marblehead drew all her wealth from the sea, the casualties incident to the 
 maritime profession multiplied greatly the number of bereaved and destitute 
 families, and constant demands were made upon Mr. Bartlett's moderate, but 
 well husbanded, resources. They were never made in vain, and I have been 
 told by one who knew well, that it was by no means an uncommon thing for 
 him to meet some urgent case of need by sending the dinner from his own table. 
 A brother minister, who was intimate with him for many years, summed up 
 some of Mr. Bartlett's various functions in this wise: — << If one of his par- 
 ishioners were very sick, he would first prescribe for him, then pray with him. 
 If the case was likely to prove fatal, he wrote the sick man's will, watched 
 with him the last night of his life, comforted the mourners, made the post 
 mortem examination, officiated at the Funeral, — then presented the will for 
 probate, gave bonds as executor, and was appointed guardian of thechildren." 
 With these multifarious occupations, he never lost sight of the great purpose 
 of his ministry; but in all else that he did, the work of winning souls for his 
 Master held the first place, and the avenues of access to men's hearts which 
 he opened by offices of friendship and charity he made availing for the con- 
 veyance of religious counsel, rebuke and instruction. 
 
 Hoping that from what I have now written you may extract some serviceable 
 biographical memoranda of my much revered friend, 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, very truly yours, A. P. PEABODY. 
 
420 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 JOHN LOVE JOY ABBOT* 
 
 1808 — 1814. 
 
 John Lovejoy Abbot, the eldest son of John Lovejoy and Phoebe 
 Abbot, was born in Andover, Mass., on the 29th of November, 1783. His 
 father was a farmer, and was desirous that the son should be a farmer also ; 
 but he yielded to the son's wishes, which were decidedly in favour of a 
 liberal education. Accordingly, he was fitted for College at Phillips 
 Academy, Andover, and entered at Harvard in the year 1801. Having 
 maintained a highly respectable standing during his college course, he 
 graduated with honour in 1805. He then returned to his father's, and 
 commenced the study of Divinity under the Rev. Jonathan French, who 
 was, at that time, the minister of the congregation to which his parents 
 belonged. After a short time, however, he went back to Cambridge, and 
 was employed as a subordinate officer of the College, (Proctor,) while, at 
 the same time, he pursued his theological studies under Dr. Ware, who 
 had then recently succeeded Dr. Tappan, as Professor of Theology. In 
 1811 he was appointed Librarian of the College, and held the office about 
 two years. 
 
 He was licensed to preach (it is believed by the Boston Association) in 
 1808 ; and after this, during his residence at Cambridge, preached fre- 
 quently for the neighbouring ministers, and in vacant parishes in the sur- 
 rounding country. In due time he attracted the attention of the First 
 Church in Boston, then vacant by the death of the Rev. William Emerson ; 
 and, some time after, received and accepted a call from that church to 
 become their Pastor. He was ordained and installed on the 14th of July, 
 1813, the Sermon on the occasion being preached by the Rev. Dr. Ware, 
 from Acts xxvi., 17, 18. On the 24th of October following, he was 
 married to Elizabeth Bell, daughter of Thomas and Elizabeth (Bell) War- 
 land, of Cambridge. 
 
 He had preached but two or three Sabbaths after his Ordination, when 
 he was attacked by pulmonary disease, and never preached again. In Oc- 
 tober following, he made a communication to his Society in respect to the 
 state of his health, which led them to take action of which the following is 
 a record: — 
 
 " October 17, 1813. 
 
 " A letter was communicated from Rev. Mr. Abbot respecting the ill 
 state of his health : Whereupon 
 
 " Voted, unanimously, That this church and congregation are deeply 
 afflicted, and sincerely regret the indisposition and ill state of health of 
 their revered and beloved Pastor ; and they recommend that he comply 
 with the advice of his physicians with respect to a contemplated voyage or 
 journey. 
 
 " Voted, That the Standing Committee be requested to inform the Rev. 
 Pastor of the above vote, and to aid him in suitable arrangements for the same. 
 
 * MSS. from Mrs. E. B. Manning, Rev. Dr. Frothingham, Rev. Ephraim Abbot, and Hon. 
 James Savage. — New England Palladium, 1813. — Christian Disciple, 1814. 
 
JOHN LOVEJOY ABBOT. 
 
 421 
 
 "Voted, That the expenses of supplying the pulpit he paid by the So- 
 ciety during the absence of the Rev. Mr. Abbot, and that his salary be 
 continued." 
 
 The following letter to Mr. Abbot accompanied the copy of the preced- 
 ing votes. 
 
 Boston, October 18, 1813. 
 
 Rev. John L. Abbot : Dear Sir : Your letter of the 17th inst., communi- 
 cated to the First Church and Society, was presented yesterday, and by 
 them received with the most sincere sentiments of respect, sympathy and 
 affection ; and whilst they bow with submission to the Providence of God 
 in his dispensation which is about to separate the Pastor from his flock, we 
 hope, with the blessing of God, for the recovery and establishment of your 
 health, and that we may have mutual cause to sing of mercy and of judg- 
 ment. We enclose a copy of the Votes of the Society, and, in behalf of 
 the Standing Committee, are Rev. and dear Sir, with sentiments of esteem 
 and respect, Your friends and obedient servants, 
 
 DAVID TILDEN ) 
 JAMES MORRILL ] ^ eacons - 
 
 Mr. Abbot sailed from New Bedford for Lisbon on the 29th of November, 
 and returned about the 10th of June following (1814). His homeward 
 passage, besides being very long, (fifty seven days,) was very tempestuous, 
 so that, when he reached North Yarmouth, the port at which he landed, he 
 had lost all the strength which he had gained during his six months 
 absence. 
 
 After his return, finding himself too feeble to resume the charge of his 
 congregation, he went, by the advice of his physician, to pass the summer 
 at Brighton, near Boston. He sometimes indulged a faint hope that his 
 health was improving, and that he should be able, at no distant period, to 
 return to his pastoral labours : but, early in October, he became convinced 
 that his hope was delusive, and he began seriously to meditate the purpose 
 — painful as it was; — of resigning his pastoral charge. On the 10th of 
 October, he left Brighton for Medford, where he passed a few very happy 
 days in the family of that distinguished man, — Mr. Peter C. Brooks. On 
 leaving Medford, he returned in a chaise, to his father's house in Andover, 
 and, though he drove most of the way himself, he was comfortable and 
 cheerful when he reached the end of his journey. The next morning, he 
 drove over to the North Parish, and called upon his friend, Mrs. Samuel 
 Phillips, and was still very comfortable when he returned. That evening, 
 however, he had a hemorrhage from the lungs, which occasioned much alarm 
 to his friends, though he remained perfectly calm himself. The next day, 
 which was the Sabbath, he was very feeble, and slept much in his chair. 
 At evening he went early to bed, and did not awake to full consciousness 
 till about four o'clock in the morning, when he was found to be dying. 
 Though he was unable to speak, he recognized his friends around him, and 
 took leave of them by the parting look and the affectionate pressure of the 
 hand. He breathed his last early the next morning, October 17, 1814. In 
 compliance with a request from his congregation, his remains were taken to 
 Boston, and his Funeral attended at the Church in Chauncy Place, on the 
 20th, on which occasion an Address was delivered by the Rev. Edward 
 
422 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Everett, then of the Brattle Street Church, which was afterwards published. 
 Another tribute to his memory in the form of a " Monody," by John 
 Lathrop, Jr., appeared, about the same time. The widow of Mr. Abbot 
 was subsequently married to Dr. Manning, of Cambridge, and still (1864) 
 survives. 
 
 Of the particular type of Mr. Abbot's Unitarianism, I can learn nothing 
 more definite than that his views were in substantial accordance with those 
 of Dr. Channing at that 'period. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Burlington, Mass., April 8, 1861. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir; I cheerfully comply with your request for some account 
 of the Rev. John Lovejoy Abbot; and it is the more easy for me to do it, as I 
 kept a diary during my acquaintance with him, in which I noted many inci- 
 dents, some of which may be to your purpose. 
 
 My recollections of his looks and personal appearance are quite vivid. He 
 was hardly, I should think, six feet high; rather robust than otherwise in his 
 frame; of an open, ingenuous and benevolent countenance; of large features, 
 with a slight lisp in his utterance. 
 
 As he was of the class of 1805, next after mine, I was but slightly acquainted 
 with him till 1807. From that time forward till his settlement over the First 
 Church, Boston, in 1813, I was quite intimate with him; walking with him, 
 or riding into Boston and other neighbouring towns; accompanying him 
 going to the Boston Thursday Lecture, or in visiting our mutual friend, the 
 Rev. Mr. Eaton, Rector of the North (Episcopal) Church, Boston, and once, 
 (August 7, 1813,) in partaking of the Communion with him at. Mr. Eaton's 
 Church. We often, too, made short calls at each other's rooms in the College; 
 and, at one time, I was accustomed to have him, Tutor Frisbie, and one other 
 gentleman of the College Faculty, all troubled with weak eyes, meet frequently 
 at my room after dinner, where I would read loud to them from any interest- 
 ing or amusing book we might chance to meet with, and sometimes published 
 sermons, for an hour or so. But on these, and all occasions, when and 
 wherever I met with Mr. Abbot, he ever approved himself the same cheerful 
 companion, the same intelligent, kind and obliging friend. And he not unfre- 
 quently would entertain all in company with him with flashes of wit and 
 humour, or with dry satire but sharp, against any distinguished persons in 
 the community, "who were believed or reported to have done any thing that 
 was much out of character. 
 
 At Easter, March, 1807, he succeeded me as Reader in the Episco- 
 pal Church of Cambridge, and continued in that office a year. After I 
 had retired from it, I continued to attend the Sabbath worship of that church, 
 and remarked in my diary after hearing him July 12th of that year, — << Am 
 much pleased with him." I have reason to believe that his services in that 
 station were always very acceptable to the people. Among other published 
 works from which he selected his discourses to read, were Jay's Sermons, I 
 recollect. 
 
 He and I belonged, while residents at Cambridge, to a Theological Society, 
 — the " K. A-;" the meaning of which initials I have now forgotten. It was 
 instituted about 1804 or 1805, for the benefit of theological students chiefly. 
 We used to meet once a week, every Wednesday evening, (at one time,) at 
 the rooms of its members within the walls in turn, and sometimes at a hired 
 room abroad in the town; and the exercises were prayers at the opening and 
 close of the meeting, a lesson from the Scriptures, and the reading of a sermon 
 or dissertation for criticism by its respective members in course. Gentlemen 
 
JOHN LOVE JOY ABBOT. 
 
 423 
 
 of the College Government also, Tutors, Regent, &c, belonged, several of 
 them to this society — all who were interested on the subject of religion, or 
 were intending to make the Christian Ministry their profession: and at the 
 Anniversary celebration, in November of each year, the Professor of Divinity 
 was wont to attend. Of this Society (which numbered, at one time, among 
 its members, Professor Frisbie, Dr. Nichols,* of Portland, Rev. Mr. Nourse, 
 the Librarian, Rev. Dr. Allen, of Northampton, once President of Bowdoin 
 College, Rev. Samuel C. Thacher, Professor Andrews Norton and President 
 Edward Everett) Mr. Abbot was chosen Vice President at its Anniversary, 
 in November, 1807, and again, on the like occasion, in 1808. He often preached 
 before the Society. The sermons were generally of a serious, practical nature; 
 as you might suppose from some of his texts, which I have noted down: as, 
 " Thou God seest me;" " Lead us not into temptation," &c. But, occasion- 
 ally, his discourses before the Society were on controversial topics. For 
 instance, I find, by my minutes, that, April 26, 1809, his sermon before them 
 was against the Worship of Christ. The following is my notice of this ser- 
 mon: — "Attended the Theological Society. Brother Abbot gave us a discus- 
 sion on > the Worship of Christ.' After enumerating the several passages 
 which have been thought to imply, directly or indirectly, that the Saviour 
 was to be worshipped, he adduced arguments on the other side of the ques- 
 tion, in favour of which he decided. Had a long debate on the subject after 
 he had done-" From this a change seems to have taken place in his views 
 of the person of the Saviour from what they were when he was Reader in the 
 Episcopal Church in Cambridge, in 1807. He became eventually, I am confi- 
 dent, a decided Unitarian. Whether he finally embraced the Arian or the 
 Socinian hypothesis, I am not sure; but I rather think the former. But, 
 on this and all other subjects of controversy, Mr. Abbot was very candid 
 towards those who differed from him. He very seldom, if ever, indulged in 
 any thing like severity against them for their supposed errors; and with some 
 gentlemen who differed from him in sentiment, (as Rev. Mr. Eaton, above 
 referred to, who was very orthodox upon the Trinity,) he continued to live in 
 intimate friendship all his days. 
 
 I was not present at Mr. Abbot's ordination, as I was then preaching as a 
 candidate at Westminster, Mass.; but the sad intelligence came, shortly after 
 my return to Cambridge, that he had been taken off from his labours among 
 his people by ill-health. In October following, I supplied his pulpit at Boston 
 one Sabbath, and, a few days after, he was married, preparatory to his taking 
 a voyage for his health. The week before he sailed, I called at the house of 
 
 * Ichabod Nichols was born in Portsmouth, N. H., July 5, 1784. He was. graduated at 
 Harvard College in 1802, and commenced the study of Theology under the Rev. Dr. Barnard, 
 of Salem, but returned to Cambridge in 1805 as Tutor in Mathematics, and held that office 
 four years. On the 7th of January, 1809, he was ordained and installed as Associate Pastor 
 with the Rev. Dr. Deane, of the First Congregational Church in Portland, Me.; and, in 
 1814, he became sole Pastor by the death of his senior, and continued so till 1855 , when he 
 received a colleague. After this event, still retaining the pastoral relation, he removed to 
 Cambridge, where, notwithstanding his waning health, he pursued his favourite studies with 
 great vigour until near the close of his life . He died in Cambridge, on the 2d of January, 1859. 
 He received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Bowdoin College in 1821, and from Harvard 
 College in 1851 . He was, for many years, a very active and useful Trustee of Bowdoin College, 
 and was early elected a member, and was, for several years, the Vice President, of the American 
 Academy of Arts and Sciences. In 1830 he published a work on Natural Theology, which con- 
 tains many views and illustrations peculiarly his own. He left a work nearly ready for the press, 
 entitled "Hours with the Evangelists,' 1 which embraces an argument for the Christian Revela- 
 tion and Miracles, directed mainly against the theory of Strauss, and a series of critical and 
 philosophical comments on the principal epochs in the Life of Jesus. This work has since 
 been published. A volume, entitled " Remembered Words from the Sermons of the Rev. I. 
 Nichols," appeared in 1860. He published several pamphlets, among which is an Oration 
 delivered at Salem on the Fourth of July, 1805, and an Address before the Portland Temper- 
 ance Society, 1823. He had a strong predilection for mathematical science, was a bold and 
 vigorous thinker, and though decidedly a Unitarian, was of the more conservative school. 
 
424 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 his father-in-law to bid him farewell. He made the proposed voyage, .but 
 without any substantial benefit. I remember meeting him once, with his wife, 
 after his return, in travelling to or from this place, after my Ordination here, 
 and was struck with the paleness of his countenance, which seemed to indi- 
 cate that he was fast becoming a prey to consumption. It was only a short 
 time after that I had occasion to make in my interleaved Almanac a record of 
 his death. Yours very respectfully, 
 
 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 SAMUEL CART * 
 
 1808 — 1815. 
 
 Samuel Cart, a son of the Rev. Thomas Cary, was born in Newbury- 
 port, Mass., on the 24th of November, 1785. He was graduated at Har- 
 vard College in 1804. He studied Divinity at Cambridge for three years, 
 and was invited to preach on probation in King's Chapel, Boston, in 
 November, 1808. In due time he received a call to become associated with 
 Dr. Freeman as Junior Pastor ; and, having accepted the call, he was 
 ordained and installed on the 1st of January, 1809, — Mr. Cary himself 
 preaching the Sermon, and Dr. Freeman delivering the Charge. 
 
 Mr. Cary proved highly acceptable to his congregation, and, for six years, 
 laboured among them up to the full measure of his ability. In March, 
 1815, he was seized with a cold, which, as it occasioned no alarm, was 
 suffered to increase in violence until it had actually become the foundation 
 of the disease which terminated his life. In the month of July he found 
 himself inadequate to his regular services, and, in consequence, retired a 
 few weeks to what was conceived to be a more salubrious climate. He 
 returned somewhat relieved, but without any essential improvement. Some 
 of his friends then suggested that a voyage across the Atlantic, and a 
 winter spent in the mild climate of England, might not improbably be the 
 means of effecting a restoration; and he so far concurred in their judgment 
 as to resolve on making the experiment. He, accordingly, left Boston in 
 the month of September. His passage was remarkably expeditious, but 
 the weather, being uncommonly wet, was unfavourable to an invalid. He 
 landed at Liverpool, and, almost immediately after, proceeded to Yorkshire, 
 where he stopped for a few days at the house of a friend. Finding him- 
 self a little revived, he continued his journey to the South, intending, after 
 passing a few weeks near London, to spend the winter in the West of 
 England. He travelled slowly, and by short stages, as he was able to bear 
 it, being accompanied by his wife and another friend. On Sunday, the 22d 
 of October, he was at Cambridge, in better spirits than usual ; and ex- 
 pressed great interest in viewing the majestic and venerable buildings of 
 that renowned University. In the evening he pursued his journey; but, a 
 mile before he came to Royston, his breathing became very hard, and he 
 was seized with an acute pain across the chest. With much difficulty he 
 
 'Greenwood's Hist, of King's Chapel. — Belsham's Fun. Serm. 
 
SAMUEL CART. 425 
 
 was taken forward to the end of the stage ; and, notwithstanding all the 
 assistance that could be rendered, he expired within two hours after his 
 arrival. 
 
 Mr. Qary, just before his death, expressed a wish that his remains might 
 be taken to London, and that the service at his Funeral might be performed 
 by the Eev. Thomas Belsham, the officiating minister of Essex Street 
 Chapel ; to whom he had brought a letter of introduction, and whose 
 acquaintance he had expressed a strong desire to make. This request was 
 complied with ; and a part of Mr. Belsham's Sermon, delivered the Sunday 
 after his decease, appeared in the (London) Monthly Repository. A Ser- 
 mon on the occasion of his death, by the Rev. Dr. Freeman, and part of a 
 Sermon by the Rev. Henry Colinan, in which his character was feelingly 
 and gracefully portrayed, were printed, not published. His congregation 
 ordered a monument to be erected over his remains, and an epitaph in 
 Latin was inscribed upon it, from the pen of his classmate, Professor 
 Andrews Norton. 
 
 The following are Mr. Cary's publications : — 
 
 A Discourse before the Merrimac Humane Society, 1806. A Discourse 
 at his own Ordination, 1809. A Discourse delivered on the day of the 
 National Fast, 1813. Review of English's " Grounds of Christianity Ex- 
 amined," 1813. A Discourse before the Ancient and Honourable Artillery 
 Company, 1814. A Discourse on the Ignorance of the True Meaning of 
 the Scriptures and the Causes of it, 1814. A Sermon on the Death of 
 Madam Susan Bulfinch, 1815. 
 
 Mr. Cary was married on the 26th of September, 1811, to Mary Ann, 
 daughter of John Atkinson, who lived in the city of New York, and also 
 at Bellows Falls, N. H. They had two children, — both sons. One died in 
 infancy, the other at the age of twelve years. Mrs. Cary was married, 
 on the 12th of October, 1826, to Col. Joseph May, of Boston, and died 
 on the 27th of January, 1839. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL OSGOOD, D. D. 
 
 Springfield, August 21, 1860. 
 
 My dear Sir : My only reason for complying with your request for my recol- 
 lections of the Rev. Samuel Cary, formerly minister of the Stone Chapel, 
 Boston, is that so nearly all of his contemporaries have passed away, that I 
 should scarcely know to whom to direct you for any more extended account 
 of him than I am able myself to furnish. I used to see him occasionally in 
 Boston, but my knowledge of him, at that period, was derived chiefly from 
 some of my friends, who knew him intimately — indeed, we were in the min- 
 istry together for several years; and though he lived at Boston, and I at 
 Springfield, the distance was not so great but that common report made me 
 familiar with his character. And notwithstanding the difference in our reli- 
 gious views, and notwithstanding one instance in which I was brought into 
 very delicate and painful relations to him, of which I shall have occasion pres- 
 ently to speak, my general recollections of him are very pleasant, and I feel 
 not at all embarrassed in giving you my impressions of his character. 
 
 Mr. Cary was, I think, more than ordinarily prepossessing in his personal 
 appearance. As I remember him, he was rather below than above the me- 
 dium height, was compactly built, and had an expression of countenance at 
 once intelligent and amiable, and on the whole rather unusually attractive. 
 
426 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 His manners, though simple and natural, were still cultivated and gentle- 
 manly, and showed his familiarity with polished society. In conversation he 
 had a good command of language, and evidently spoke out of the fulness of a 
 well furnished and well disciplined mind. Without attributing to him the 
 highest order of intellect, I suppose him to have been a man of highly res- 
 spectable mental endowments, of which he made the most by means of a ver}' 
 liberal culture. 
 
 I do not remember ever to have heard Mr. Cary preach; but the fact that 
 he was chosen as colleague to Dr. Freeman, of the Stone Chapel, and that he 
 satisfied that very intelligent congregation, is sufficient evidence that his 
 preaching talents were of no inferior order. I think he enjoyed a considera- 
 bly more than ordinary reputation as a Preacher, though as Buckminster and 
 Channing were his near neighbours, it may reasonably be doubted whether 
 he did not suffer somewhat from their superior splendour. He published 
 several sermons, which were creditable to his talents, though they were 
 rather tasteful and graceful than powerful. I am not quite certain in regard 
 to the particular type of his Unitarianism, though I am inclined to believe, 
 from some circumstances within my knowledge, that he was a Humanitarian. 
 
 You are well aware that even up to the close of Mr. Cary's brief ministry, 
 the separation between the Orthodox and Unitarian Churches of Massachusetts 
 was only in the process of being effected. Not long after my settlement here, 
 my mind came to be deeply exercised on the subject, and, though many of 
 the Unitarian ministers were among my intimate friends, from my having at 
 an early period sympathized in their theological views, I was brought to the 
 conclusion that I could not conscientiously invite them to preach in my pulpit. 
 This result was not only painful to myself, but was exceedingly unwelcome 
 and even annoying to a large portion of my congregation. In this state of 
 things, it so happened that several highly respectable Unitarian ministers, 
 among whom was Mr. Cary, came to spend a Sabbath with some of their 
 friends belonging to my congregation. The time had now come when my 
 principles, which I had already announced, must be put to a practical test; 
 and, painfully embarrassing as my situation was, I felt conscience-bound to 
 adhere to my deliberately formed convictions. I had a long interview with 
 Mr. Cary on the subject, and stated to him my views and feelings without any 
 reserve, and he heard me with the utmost apparent candour and kindness, 
 and assured me that he had not a doubt that I was perfectly conscientious in 
 the course I had taken, and that he did not see but that the views which I 
 held required it. His whole bearing on the occasion was entirely gentlemanly, 
 and though I doubt not that he thought me bigoted upon principle, I never heard 
 of his saying a word to my disparagement, or that indicated a wish to lessen 
 me in the regards of any portion of my people. His conduct on that occasion 
 was, I doubt not, a fair specimen of the general consideration and urbanity 
 that pertained to his character. Yours truly, 
 
 SAMUEL OSGOOD. 
 
EZRA SHAW GOODWIN. 
 
 427 
 
 EZRA SHAW GOODWIN.* 
 
 1809 — 1833. 
 
 Ezra Shaw Goodwin was born in Plymouth, Mass., September 11, 
 1787. He was the youngest son of General Nathaniel Goodwin, of Plym- 
 ^ outh, who died in 1819, at the age of ninety, and whose memory is still 
 gratefully cherished by the inhabitants of the Old Colony. His mother, the 
 second wife of General Goodwin, was the daughter of the Rev. John Shaw,t 
 of Bridgewater. She died at Plymouth in the year 1825, in the seventy- 
 ninth year of her age. 
 
 His education was commenced at one of the common schools of his native 
 town, and his studies, preparatory to entering College, were prosecuted 
 under the Rev. David Gurney,t of Middleborough. He entered Harvard 
 College in 1803, and having, through his whole course, maintained a 
 respectable rank as a scholar, was graduated in 1807. 
 
 After closing his collegiate course, he continued at Cambridge, for some 
 months, as a resident graduate, pursuing the study of Theology, in accord- 
 ance with a purpose formed in his early youth. He afterwards studied by 
 himself at home, with some general superintendence from the Rev, James 
 Kendall, § of Plymouth. In September, 1809, he received the approba- 
 
 * Memoir prefixed to his Posthumous Sermons. 
 
 f John Shaw was a native of Bridgewater; was graduated at Harvard College in 1729; 
 was ordained Pastor of the church in his native place, November 17, 1731 j and died April 
 20, 1791, aged eighty-three. He published a Sermon, entitled "The Character of a Pastor, 
 according to God's own heart Considered," delivered at the Ordination of Moses Taft, [who 
 was a native of Mendon, was graduated at Harvard College in 1751; was settled over the 
 Church in Braintree, August 26, 1752 ; and died November 12, 1791] ; and a Sermon preached 
 at Barnstable, at the Ordination of Oakes Shaw, 1760. Oakes Shaw, the son of John Shaw, 
 was born at Bridgewater in 1736; was graduated at Harvard College in 1758; was ordained 
 at Barnstable, October 1, 1760; and died February 14, 1763. John Shaw, another son of 
 John, was born at Bridgewater, November 7, 1747; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1772 ; was ordained at Haverhill, March 12, 1777 ; and died September 29, 1794, aged forty- 
 seven. Bezaleel Shaw, another son of John, was born at Bridgewater; was graduated at 
 Harvard College in 1762 ; was ordained at Nantucket, November 25, 1767 ; and died February 
 27, 1796, aged fifty-seven. 
 
 % David Gurney was born at Bridgewater; was graduated at Harvard College in 1785; 
 was ordained minister of Middleborough, December 5, 1787; and died in 1815. 
 
 § JA3IES Kendall was the youngest son of Major James and Elizabeth (Mason) Kendall, 
 of Sterling, Mass., where he was born, November 3, 1769. He entered Harvard College in 
 1792, and graduated with high honour in 1796. On leaving College, he passed two years as 
 Assistant Teacher in Phillips Academy, Andover, at the same time pursuing his theological 
 studies under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Tappan, then Professor of Divinity at Harvard 
 College, and the Rev. Jonathan French, of Andover. He received approbation to preach 
 from the Andover Association in 1795. In that year he was chosen Tutor of Greek in the Col- 
 lege, and removed to Cambridge, where he still continued his theological studies. He com- 
 menced preaching at Plymouth, as a candidate, in October, 1799, and was ordained there 
 January 1, 1800, the Rev. Mr. French, of Andover, preaching the Sermon. He was the sole 
 Pastor of the church for thirty-eight years : and, after the settlement of a colleague in 1838, 
 he preached frequently for a number of years in his own pulpit, and in other pulpits in the 
 region. He died, after a short illness, on the 17th of March, 1859, in the ninetieth year of 
 his age. His Funeral Sermon was preached by his former colleague, the Rev. Dr. Briggs, of 
 Salem. He was married in June, 1800, to Sarah, daughter of Deacon Daniel Poor, of Ando- 
 ver, who became the mother of six children, and died in February, 1809; and a second time, 
 in 1810, to Sally, daughter of Deacon Paul Kendall, of Templeton, who also became the 
 mother of six children, and died in February, 1845. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was 
 conferred upon him, by Harvard College, in 1825. He published a Discourse on the Character 
 of Washington, delivered at the request of the town of Plymouth, 1800; a Sermon on the 
 Death of Mrs. Jane Bobbins, 1800 ; a Sermon on the Death of Col. George "Watson, 1800 ■ a 
 Sermon on the Death of the Rev. David Tappan, D. D., 1803 ; a Sermon at the Ordination 'of 
 
428 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tion of the Plymouth Association, and immediately after commenced 
 preaching. From this time until July following, he remained in Plymouth 
 and its neighbourhood, still pursuing his theological studies, and preaching 
 wherever his services were desired. In the summer of 1810, he was invited 
 to supply the pulpit at Topsham, Me., where, with the exception of a few 
 Sabbaths spent at Augusta, he continued for more than a. year. From 
 September, 1811, and through the greater part of 1812, he supplied the 
 First Parish in Sandwich, Mass. ; and, having received and accepted an 
 invitation to settle there, was ordained on the 17th of March, 1813, — the ' 
 Rev. William Shaw, of Marshfield, preaching the Ordination Sermon. 
 
 In a little more than a year from the time of his settlement, Mr. Good- 
 win was married to Ellen Watson, the eldest daughter of the Hon. John 
 Davis, of Boston. Mrs. Goodwin survived her husband for some years, 
 but they had no children. 
 
 In 1822 he was elected a member of the Massachusetts Historical So- 
 ciety, and, in 1830, a member of the American Academy of Arts and 
 Sciences. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin was originally settled for only ten years ; but, at the expi- 
 ration of that time, he was engaged for an indefinite period. He was in 
 the diligent prosecution of his labours, when he was arrested by the disease 
 that terminated his life. In January, 1833, he visited Boston for the last 
 time. On his return, and but a few days before his decease, he preached 
 at Kingston from the text, — "I am now ready to be offered, and the time 
 of my departure is at hand." He suffered, during that day, a severe pain 
 in his head, which continued, without abatement, through the two follow- 
 ing days, which he spent at Plymouth. After returning to Sandwich, his 
 disorder developed itself as an abscess of the brain, and quickly took on an 
 alarming, and even hopeless, form. He died on the 5th of February, in 
 the forty-sixth year of his age, and the twentieth of his ministry. A Dis- 
 course was delivered at his Funeral, by the Rev. Dr. Kendall, of Plym- 
 outh, from the text, — " I leave the world and go to the Father." 
 
 The following is a list of Mr. Goodwin's publications ; — 
 
 Notices of the Great Storm, September 23, 1815 : Mass. Historical Col- 
 lections, Vol. X, Second Series. Meaning of the words translated Eter- 
 nity and Eternal in the Scriptures : Christian Examiner, Vols. V, IX, X, 
 XII, xiii, XIV. A Sermon on the Secresy of the Soul in Communion 
 with God : Liberal Preacher, Vol. Ill, No. 9. An Address before 
 the Barnstable Peace Society, 1830. Ancient and Modern Orthodoxy : 
 Unitarian Advocate for December, 1831. Alice Bradford, or a Birthday 
 
 Rev. Caleb Holmes [who was graduated at Harvard College in 1802 ; was ordained at Dennis, 
 Mass., January 2, 1805 ; and died November 2, 1813] ; a Sermon before the Ancient and Hon- 
 ourable Artillery Company, 1806 ; a Sermon before the Society for Propagating the Gospel 
 among the Indians and others in North America, 1811 ; a Sermon before the Humane Society, 
 1813-, a Sermon at the Ordination of Oliver Haywood, at Barnstable, 1815; a Sermon in 
 the Liberal Preacher on Man's Accountableness to his Creator, and a Future Retribution, 
 1828 ; a Sermon at the Ordination of Henry B. Goodwin, at Concord, Mass., 1830 ; a Sermon 
 at the Ordination of his Son, James A. Kendall, at Medfield, Mass., 1830; Charge at the 
 Ordination of Chandler Robbins as Minister of the Second Church, Boston, 1833 ; Sermon on 
 the Wreck of the Brig Regulator, 1836 ; Semi Centennial Sermon, 1850. Dr. Kendall was a 
 man of great personal dignity, of a well balanced and well furnished mind, of a kindly and 
 generous spirit, and of much more than ordinary popularity as a Preacher. In his theolo- 
 gical views he is believed to have been an Arian. He was greatly esteemed by all denomina- 
 tions. 
 
EZRA SHAW GOODWIN. 429 
 
 Present. Some Scriptural Keadings compared with some Unscriptural 
 Sayings : Tracts of the American Unitarian Association, No. 66, 1st 
 Series. The Shipwrecked Coaster. Token for 1833 : After his death, a 
 small Volume of his Sermons was published, prefaced by a brief Memoir 
 of his life. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL J. MAT. 
 
 Syracuse, November 3, 1862. 
 
 My dear Sir : I cannot claim to have been very intimately acquainted with 
 the Rev. Ezra Shaw Goodwin, though my personal recollections of him, in 
 connection with what I knew of the general estimate of his character among 
 • his intelligent friends and contemporaries, will perhaps be sufficient for your 
 purpose. The first recollection I have of him was his preaching at the Stone 
 Chapel in Boston and dining at my father's, as early, I should think, as 1815 
 or 1816. After this, I often saw him on his visits to the family of Judge 
 Davis, whose daughter he had married, and who lived in our immediate 
 neighbourhood. Indeed, I was in the habit of meeting him occasionally, for 
 some ten or fifteen years, until within a short time previous to his death. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin, if my memory serves me, was rather above than below the 
 ordinary height, and every way well proportioned. The expression of his 
 countenance, though not sad, was sedate and thoughtful, and his general air 
 was that of a student. He had great kindliness and ingenuousness of temper, 
 and attracted his friends very near to him, while he rarely, if ever, made an 
 enemy. He possessed good social qualities, and was always discreet and 
 edifying in his conversation, though I should call him rather a good talker 
 than a great talker. His general bearing in the community in which he lived 
 was such that even those whose religious opinions differed most widely from 
 his own, were not slow to acknowledge the general purity of his character, 
 or, after he was gone, to render due honour to his memory. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin possessed a vigorous and inquisitive mind, and had accumulated 
 a large store of general as well as professional knowledge. He had a great 
 fondness for philosophical inquiry, while at the same time he took great 
 delight in the study of nature. His conversation would impress you at once 
 with the idea that he had not been satisfied to remain in any one corner of 
 the great field of knowledge, but was at home in various parts of it, and he 
 would sometimes give forth the most mature and well-digested thoughts on 
 subjects upon which he had scarcely been supposed to have reflected at all. 
 He had an uncommonly quick and retentive memory. He was fond of poetry, 
 and his memory seemed a vast repository of the most beautiful extracts from 
 the best English poets, both ancient and modern. He was a great proficient 
 in the original languages of the Scriptures, and took a high rank among the 
 Biblical Critics of the day. His articles in the Christian Examiner, on the 
 terms aiG)v and cuuvwir, attracted great attention among the students of the 
 New Testament, and even those who dissented most earnestly from the author's 
 concluSions, still gave him the credit of having conducted his argument with 
 much learning and ingenuity. 
 
 In the pulpit Mr. Goodwin was attractive by his simplicity, his earnestness, 
 his good sense, his perspicuous and graceful style, rather than by any remark- 
 able force or brilliancy either of matter or manner. What his particular 
 views in respect to the person of Jesus Christ were I do not know; but 
 whatever they were, I do not believe they were made prominent in his 
 preaching. The fact, however, that he was firmly persuaded of the truth 
 of the general system which he embraced, is undoubted. At a meeting of the 
 Barnstable Association, several years before his death, one of the clergymen 
 
430 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 present, holding different views from Mr. Goodwin, turning to him, said, "What 
 would you give, Sir, to see your views of religion prevail over the world?" 
 He replied with the utmost earnestness, — << What would I give, Sir? I would 
 make a sacrifice of all that I possess on earth, and upon the pile I would cast 
 my own body." I understand that a volume of Mr. Goodwin's sermons has 
 been published since his death; and from these, doubtless, a more definite 
 opinion of his peculiar religious views might be formed, than I, without having 
 read the sermons, could venture to express. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 SAMUEL J. MAY. 
 
 ANDREWS NORTON* 
 
 1809—1853. 
 
 Andrews Nokton, the youngest child of Samuel and Jane Norton, 
 was born at Hingham, Mass., December 31, 1786. He was descended 
 from the Rev. John Norton, of Hingham, a nephew of the celebrated John 
 Norton, of Ipswich, and afterwards of Boston. Grave and studious from 
 his childhood, he was fitted for College at the Derby Academy in Hing- 
 ham, then under the charge of Mr. Abner Lincoln, and, in 1801, was ad- 
 mitted a Sophomore at Harvard. He graduated in 1804, the youngest of 
 his class, with a high character for both scholarship and moral worth. The 
 next four years he devoted to theological and other kindred studies, and 
 did not commence preaching till 1809. At that time he accepted an invi- 
 tation to supply the pulpit in Augusta, Me. ; but, after preaching there a 
 few Sabbaths, he was chosen Tutor in Bowdoin College, which office he 
 accepted, entering immediately on its duties. Here he remained a year, 
 and then returned to Cambridge. 
 
 In 1811 he was appointed Tutor in Mathematics in Harvard College, and 
 accepted the office, but resigned it at the close of the year. In 1812 he 
 established a new periodical publication, under the title of the General 
 Repository and Review, which, however, continued for only two years. It 
 was very explicit in the expression, and earnest in the defence, of Unita- 
 rian views, and was conducted with uncommon learning and ability. In 1813 
 he was chosen Librarian of the College ; and performed the duties of tlie 
 office with great fidelity for eight years. The same year in which he became 
 Librarian, he was also appointed Lecturer on the Criticism and Interpre- 
 tation of the Scriptures, under the bequest of the Hon. Samuel Dexter. 
 In 1819 he was elected Dexter Professor of Sacred Literature in the New 
 Divinity School at Cambridge ; — an office in which there was full scope 
 for his ample stores of critical knowledge. His Inaugural Address was 
 published. In 1822 he delivered an Address before the University, at the 
 Funeral of Professor Prisbie, one of his most valued friends, whose Lite- 
 rary Remains he afterwards published with Notices of his Life and Charac- 
 ter — a similar service he had performed in 1814, in respect to another 
 
 * Dr. Newell's Commem. Disc. — Christ. Exam., 1853. 
 
ANDREWS NORTON. 431 
 
 friend, — Charles Eliot, whose early death he felt as a sore bereavement. 
 In the earnest discussions which took place, in 1824 and '25, respecting 
 the College, and the relation of the Corporation to the Immediate Govern- 
 ment, he took an active part. His " Remarks on- a Report of a Committee 
 of the Board of Overseers," proposing certain changes in the instruction 
 and discipline of the College, were published in 1824. In 1826 he under- 
 took the collection and republication of the Poems of Mrs. Hemans in this 
 country. In 1828 he passed a few months in England, with great satis- 
 faction and profit. In 1830, he resigned his Professorship, but still con- 
 tinued to devote himself to literary and theological pursuits. In 1833 he 
 published a pamphlet that attracted no little attention, entitled " State- 
 ment of Reasons for Disbelief in the Trinitarian Doctrine." The same 
 year he commenced, in connection with his friend, Charles Folsom, Esq., 
 the publication of the "Select Journal of Foreign Literature," in which 
 there was also much original matter furnished by himself. In 1837 was 
 published the first volume of his elaborate work on the " Genuineness of 
 the Gospels ;" — a work which he had commenced in 1819, with the expecta- 
 tion of completing it in six months. In 1839, at the request of the 
 Alumni of the Divinity School, he delivered the First Annual Discourse 
 before them, afterwards published, " On the Latest Form of Infidelity." 
 This led to a controversy, which gave him the opportunity of more fully 
 illustrating and vindicating his. own views. In 1844 he published the 
 second and third volumes of his work on the " Genuineness of the Gospels." 
 In 1852 he published a volume entitled "Tracts on Christianity," com- 
 posed chiefly of his larger Essays and Discourses, which had before 
 appeared in a separate form. He left behind him,. fully prepared for the 
 press, a Translation of the Gospels, with Notes, on which he had been 
 engaged for many years. 
 
 Besides his more elaborate works, Mr. Norton was a liberal contributor 
 to different periodicals, and some of these articles may be reckoned among 
 the ablest productions of his pen. 
 
 In the autumn of 1849 he was prostrated by a severe illness, from the 
 effects of which he never fully recovered By the advice of his physician, 
 he passed the following summer at Newport, and with such decided advan- 
 tage to his health that he resolved to make it his future summer residence. 
 In the summer of 1853 it became apparent that his strength was declining, 
 and that the bracing air had lost its power to restore it. At the close of 
 summer he was unable to leave his room ; and he lingered, in perfect calm- 
 ness, till Sunday evening, September 18, when he finished his earthly 
 course. 
 
 In 1821 Mr. Norton was married to Catharine, daughter of Samuel 
 Eliot, a wealthy and highly respectable merchant of Boston. He left four 
 children, a son of high literary character and accomplishments, and three 
 daughters. Mrs. Norton still (1862) survives. 
 
 I never saw Mr. Norton but twice, and in each case was in his company 
 perhaps an hour. The first time was about 1813, when I was a student in 
 Yale College, and he the Librarian at Harvard. I was impressed then 
 chiefly by his quiet and gentle manner, and the absence of every thing that 
 indicated a consciousness of superiority. My last interview with him was 
 
432 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 only three or four years before his death, and was of a nature to bring me 
 much nearer to him, and give me a clearer insight into his character. He 
 was suffering from feeble health, but was evidently prosecuting his studies 
 with great zeal. He spoke on every subject with a deliberation which 
 might have been almost wearisome, if there had not been so much of good 
 sense, and point, and beauty in all that he said. I think it probable that 
 I found him the more communicative and cordial from the fact that I had 
 vivid and grateful recollections of certain individuals in whom he felt a spe- 
 cial interest. His whole appearance indicated great bodily feebleness, but 
 his tone was cheerful, and his face illuminated with bright sunshine. I 
 had several times occasion to ask favours of him, and he always conferred 
 them with great promptness and the best grace. I know he had great 
 boldness, as well as great acuteness, in controversy ; but the former, though 
 it must have been an element of his nature, was certainly not impressed 
 upon his countenance 
 
 FROM THE REV. JAAZANIAH CROSBY, D. D. 
 
 Charleston, N. H., July 22, 1864. 
 
 My dear Friend: Professor Norton, concerning whom you ask for my recol- 
 lections, was my classmate in Harvard College, and my personal acquain- 
 tance with him was confined to the period of our college course — that is from 
 1800 to 1804. During this time I was in quite intimate relations with him, 
 and had every opportunity of noticing his peculiar developments, and forming 
 an accurate judgment of his character. It is due to candour to say that, though 
 the germ of his future distinction was doubtless to be recognized in what he 
 was there, yet probably no one anticipated that he would ever attain the high 
 position, especially in Biblical learning, which he afterwards reached. 
 
 Mr. Norton was of a delicate physical organization, being somewhat below the 
 medium height, of a spare habit, a light and rather pallid complexion, and a 
 countenance reflecting the milder rather than the sterner qualities. His voice, 
 though pleasant, was feeble, and had not sufficient compass to fill a large house. 
 His mind was inquisitive, his taste refined and exact, and his habits of study 
 every way exemplary. He was modest even to diffidence, evidently preferring 
 to keep in the background, rather than to make himself in any way prominent. 
 He was, however, sociable and cheerful when he was with his friends, but 
 never uttered a word inconsistent with the strictest delicacy and propriety. 
 He was of an amiable and generous spirit, and delighted in seeing others happy, 
 and in contributing to their happiness, whenever it was in his power. 
 
 Though Mr. Norton's habit was generally very sedate, there was nothing 
 about him that savoured of misanthropy; and he had a vein of quiet humour, 
 which sometimes contributed not a little to the amusement of his friends. 
 One or two of his bright pithy sayings now occur to me. There was a young 
 man in College, a son of a highly respectable clergyman, whose reputation for 
 intellect was considerably below mediocrity; and there was another whose 
 reputation for gormandizing was at least proportionally above it; and it so 
 happened that these two characters, each remarkable in his way, sat opposite 
 to each other at the table. As Norton was going into the College Commons, 
 one of the students, pointing to the voracious eater, said to him, " Yonder is 
 Charybdis." " I presume so," said Norton, << for I see Scylla (silly) oppo- 
 site to him." One of our classmates, by the name of K- 1, a genial and 
 
 somewhat jovial fellow, who was not afraid of a glass of wine, though I 
 believe he was never charged with the excessive use of it, met Norton, who 
 was proverbial for total abstinence, one morning after there had been some 
 
ANDREWS NOETON. 433 
 
 rather jubilant meeting, and said to him, "Well, Norton, I understand you 
 
 were intoxicated last evening." To which he replied, "Well, K 1, I 
 
 understand you were not, and I should like to know which of the two facts 
 is the most singular." While he was a Professor at Cambridge, one who had 
 formerly been a student under him, not remarkable for force of intellect, 
 underwent some great change in his religious opinions; and when some one 
 asked Mr. Norton how he accounted for it, he replied that probably some one 
 had told him that his former opinions were not correct. On hearing one of 
 the students read something rather crude, which he had prepared for a lite- 
 rary or theological exercise, he simply observed, — " I have only two remarks 
 to make upon your production, — one has respect to the matter, the other to 
 the manner, — that is all." The effect of his witty sayings was greatly 
 increased by the quiet and apparently unconscious manner in which they were 
 uttered. 
 
 I have, as you perceive, limited myself chiefly to what Professor Norton was 
 in his earlier years ; but there are many still living, who can give you an account 
 of him at a later period, and after he had become, in his department, emphati- 
 cally one of the leading men of his time. 
 
 Your friend, sincerely and affectionately, 
 
 J. CROSBY. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JAMES WALKER, D. D., L. L. D. 
 
 PRESIDENT OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY. 
 
 Cambridge, April 2, 1860. 
 Dear Sir: You ask for personal reminiscences of the late Mr. Andrews 
 Norton. The utmost that I can do is to record my impressions of his charac- 
 ter and influence as a Teacher and Theologian. 
 
 I can remember, as if it were but yesterday, the almost unbounded defer- 
 ence with which we, who constituted his first class in the Divinity School at 
 Cambridge, looked up to him in the lecture room. This arose in part from 
 his undoubted learning, and our sense of his caution and single-mindedness in 
 the pursuit of truth; in part, also, from the peculiar character of his intellect, 
 and his manner of teaching. 
 
 His mind was more remarkable for the clearness and distinctness with which 
 he saw what was within the field of his vision, than for the largeness of that 
 field. Accordingly, in making up his opinions, he was not troubled, as many 
 are, by side and cross lights; and hence no misgivings, no waverings, no 
 sudden changes. Hence also, though many of his conclusions startled men by 
 their novelty, they were always such as could be clearly stated. He had no 
 taste for groping in the dark; certainly none for making a public exhibition of 
 his gropings. His mind was eminently positive, and, in this sense, despotic. 
 He came before his classes, not as one in the act of seeking after the truth, 
 but as one who had found it. 
 
 Something was also due to another peculiarity in his mental constitution. 
 Few men have ever lived who had less of ill-will or unkindness; nevertheless 
 his nature was the opposite to genial, understanding that word to mean a 
 readiness to take up and sympathize with, and, in this way, to enter into and 
 comprehend, a great variety of characters and convictions. He did not believe 
 in "stand-points," nor aspire to " many-sidedness," of which we hear so 
 much now-a-days; he affected neither the things nor the names. He never put 
 himself to much trouble to comprehend the ignorance or the errors of other 
 people. He saw things so clearly himself, and stated them so clearly, that if 
 a pupil failed to be convinced, he soon gave him up; and it was the dread of 
 this which did more perhaps than any thing else to keep us in order 
 
 Vol. VIII. 28 
 
434 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 The charge sometimes brought against Mr. Norton of inclining to German 
 Rationalism, can only raise a smile in those of us who remember his opinion 
 of German scholarship and the German mind. And besides, his total rejection, 
 not to say scorn, of the transcendental attempts to found religion on intuitions 
 threw him naturally into the opposite extreme. I never knew a man who 
 built his faith more entirely on authority, making not only all certainty in 
 religion, but well grounded trust and hope, even his trust in providence, and 
 his hope of another life, to depend on Christianity, accepted as a miraculous 
 dispensation. 
 
 As Mr. Norton's controversial writings have been much read and relied on, 
 and were the great authority on the subject in the early days of American 
 Unitarianism, it is not surprising that he should often be referred to as one of 
 the founders of the sect in this country. But this, also, is a mistake. He 
 was singularly impatient of denominational names and trammels of every 
 Hind, and, for this reason, declined, from the beginning, to take part in the 
 American Unitarian Association, deeming it better and safer to leave the pro- 
 gress of truth in the hands of the scholars and philosophers of every sect, — 
 " of such men," to use his own words, << as Erasmus, and Grotius, and Locke, 
 and Le Clerc." In short, he belonged to that class of « Liberal Christians," 
 who believe, wisely or unwisely, that the spread of Unitarianism in the Church 
 is hindered rather than promoted, by the existence of an organized and active 
 Body of Unitarians. 
 
 Mr. Norton has been blamed for his slowness to do justice either to the 
 motives or the abilities of his opponents, especially when they went farther 
 than he in dissent from received opinions. So far as the tendency appears in 
 his writings, it may be ascribed, for the most part, to intellectual peculiarities 
 above mentioned, or to impatience at seeing the cause of legitimate progress com- 
 promised by what he conceived to be immature and offensive novelties, or to his 
 profound sense of the responsibilities incurred by those who undertake to 
 enlighten the public mind. That he could treat with consideration and tender- 
 ness the extremes of dissent, when convinced that they did not spring from 
 conceit, a love of notoriety, or from shallow or hasty scholarship, is seen in 
 his admirable letters to Blanco White. 
 
 His great work on the Genuineness of the Gospels is one of the most im- 
 portant contributions which this country has made to theological literature. 
 To him, also, with Mr. Buckminster, Professor Stuart, and a few others, we 
 are indebted for that impulse given to Biblical study in New England early in 
 <the present century, which has been of incalculable benefit to all denominations. 
 I remain, Dear Sir, with great regard, 
 
 Very truly and respectfully yours, 
 
 JAMES WALKER. 
 
 FROM THE REV. A. P. PEABODY. D. D. 
 
 Portsmouth, N. H., December 10, 1859. 
 
 My dear Sir: When I entered the Divinity School at Cambridge, Mr. Norton 
 was still in office as Dexter Professor. Being deeply interested in his exegeti- 
 cal exercises with my class, I often called upon him for private instruction, 
 and continued to do so, not unfrequently, after his resignation. After my set- 
 tlement, as a clergyman, I seldom saw him; yet I retained so vivid an impres- 
 sion of his character, and so grateful a remembrance of his instructions, that 
 I never failed to make diligent inquiries concerning him from such friends as 
 continued to see him frequently to the last. In what I am about to write, I 
 shall only hint at what seem to me to have been one or two of the most 
 jstriking features of his character. 
 
SAMUEL COOPER THACHEE. 435 
 
 It may surprise you that I should begin by saying that he had the most 
 sceptical mind that I was ever acquainted with. He held in utter distrust all 
 appeals to the emotional nature. He wanted for every item of belief a solid 
 basis of fact, and superstructure of argument, and his faith would reach no 
 higher than he could lay this superstructure, stone upon stone, as in indes- 
 tructible cement. He had no relish, nay almost a contempt, for those specu- 
 lations about spiritual and heavenly things, which barely take a hint from 
 Scripture and follow it out, through the aid of the imagination, in those ele- 
 vated regions of thought in which I, believe God means that we should thus 
 expatiate. He preferred to remain in those lower stories of the edifice, built 
 on the one foundation Jesus Christ, where he could test the strength of the 
 floor and the walls. But I doubt whether there ever lived a firmer believer in 
 the Divine mission and miracles of Christ, and in what he considered the 
 fundamental truths of his revelation. So thoroughly had he examined the 
 evidences of these facts and truths, that he acquired the habit of speaking of 
 them as he would of sunrise, or the phases of the moon, or any of the estab- 
 lished facts of nature, as matters of course, no longer admitting of question. 
 He expressed the same quiet uuimpassioned confidence, in the days of his 
 declining strength, and in the very last hours of life, and passed away, not with 
 the glow of enthusiastic feeling or extatic hope, but with the calm mien and 
 utterance of one who is starting on a journey to some place in his own neigh- 
 bourhood, where existence and locality are as familiarly known to him as the 
 house he lives in. And his great life-work, — his treatise on the genuineness 
 of the Gospels, — in the estimation of many, approaches more nearly to the 
 precision and force of geometrical demonstration than any other extant similar 
 course of reasoning on an historical or moral subject. 
 
 Mr. Norton was distinguished by another quality, not less remarkable than 
 his scepticism — indeed truly wonderful, when connected with so much native 
 and inevitable scepticism, — his reverence. Unsparing as he was in his criticism 
 of the Sacred text, and his rejection of what to most of the Christian world 
 were sacred verities, he always stood in the presence of what he recognized 
 as the Word of God with unshodden feet. I can hear still the echo of his in- 
 tensely solemn intonations in repeating, in his own version, the Sermon on the 
 Mount, or the Parables. And with all his seeming coldness as a. critic, he 
 would never tolerate, but would rebuke with a vehemence which brought back 
 traditions of the strong passions of his early days, the slightest approach to 
 flippancy in the mention of the Sacred Books or their contents. 
 I am, as ever, very sincerely and affectionately yours, 
 
 A. P. PEABODY. 
 
 SAMUEL COOPER THACHER.* 
 
 1811 — 1817. 
 
 Samuel Cooper Teacher was a descendant of the Eev. Thomas 
 Thacher, who migrated to this country from England in 1635, and was the 
 first minister of the Old South Church, Boston. He was a son of the Kev. 
 Peter Thacher, D. D., who was called from Maiden to Brattle Street 
 Church, Boston, a few months previous to the birth of this son. His pater- 
 
 * Greenwood's * Memoir. 
 
436 , UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 nal ancestors had been ministers for many generations ; but it is not neces- 
 sary to speak of them here particularly, as they have already been noticed 
 in their proper places in this work. 
 
 The subject of this sketch, from early childhood, developed fine intellec- 
 tual and moral qualities. Having received his elementary education at the 
 Boston Free Schools, he was fitted for College at the Latin Grammar 
 School, then under the instruction of the late Samuel Hunt. He entered 
 the University at Cambridge in 1800, and was graduated with its highest 
 honours in 1804. His deportment, during his college course, was most 
 exemplary, and secured to him the respect, affection, and confidence of both 
 his teachers and fellow students. 
 
 While he was yet a student at College, he had formed the purpose of 
 entering the clerical profession. He signified this in a letter to an elder 
 brother, dated December, 1803, in which he says, — "To this object all 
 my hopes and wishes are directed ; and I pray God that I may not be per- 
 mitted to touch his ark with unholy hands." Immediately after he gradu- 
 ated, he commenced his theological studies under the direction of the Rev. 
 William Ellery Channing, between whom and himself there ever afterwards 
 existed the most close and confidential friendship. 
 
 In the early part of 1805 Mr. Thacher took charge of the Boston Latin 
 Grammar School, during a vacancy in the office of Head-master, and sub- 
 sequently, for a short time, kept a private school. He was, at this period, 
 associated with several distinguished individuals in Boston in conducting 
 the Monthly Anthology, — a work whose high literary merit was univer- 
 sally acknowledged. 
 
 In the summer of 1806 it was deemed expedient that the Rev. Mr. 
 Buckminster, of Brattle Street Church, should go abroad for the benefit of 
 his health ; and such was the nature of his disease* that prudence required 
 that he should have some friend to accompany him. Mr. Thacher was 
 selected to be his travelling companion ; and he gladly acceded to the pro- 
 posal, not only on account of the high estimate which he had of Mr. Buck- 
 minster's character, but because the opportunity would thus be secured to 
 him of accomplishing a favourite object in visiting foreign countries. Mr. 
 Buckminster sailed for England in May, and Mr. Thacher a few weeks 
 later : they had the pleasure of meeting in July, at the house of Samuel 
 Williams, Esq., in London. 
 
 Early in August they embarked together for the Continent, and, after a 
 disagreeable passage of three days, landed at Harlingen in Holland. 
 Thence they crossed the Zuyder Zee to Amsterdam, and thence proceeded 
 to Rotterdam, where they arrived before the middle of the- month. Here 
 they separated for a while, Mr. Buckminster setting off on a tour through 
 Switzerland, and Mr. Thacher proceeding by Antwerp, Brussels, &c. to 
 Paris. 
 
 Mr. Buckminster rejoined his friend after a few weeks' separation ; and, 
 in a letter dated at Paris, October 7th, Mr. Thacher thus writes concern- 
 ing him : — 
 
 " When you next see Mr. L., after remembering me to liim with all possible grati- 
 tude and regard, tell him that, though I am unwilling prematurely to raise his hopes, 
 yet I believe he may indulge very sanguine expectations of the complete recovery of 
 
 * Epilepsy. 
 
SAMUEL COOPER THACHER. 
 
 437 
 
 Mr. Buckminster.' He has returned from Switzerland not merely in good, but in 
 robust, health; and ever since his arrival on the Continent, and for a month before, he 
 has had no return, nor symptom of a return, of his disorder." 
 
 In another letter, dated December 20th, he says : — 
 
 '• The climate of France agrees wonderfully with Mr. B., who is in robust and unin- 
 terrupted health, although occasionally a little homesick. His greatest danger, at 
 present, is of becoming bankrupt, from the number of books which he continues to 
 buy." 
 
 The two friends, having been detained in Paris longer than they had 
 
 intended, owing to the restraints imposed by the Berlin decree, did not 
 
 reach London till February, 1807. In a letter written by Mr. Thacher, 
 
 after his arrival in England, he gives the following graphic description of 
 
 Buonaparte, whom he saw for a few moments at St. Cloud : — 
 
 '"' It was at morning mass, just before the present war was announced; and, from 
 his wearied and unrefreshed countenance, I did not envy him the night he had been 
 passing. He had the appearance of a man exhausted by intensity of thought, and now 
 vainly endeavouring to escape from the subject of his meditations. He was perpetu- 
 ally restless and uneasy; some part of his body was in continual motion; he was now 
 swinging backward and forward, then drawing his hand over his forehead and face, 
 and then taking snuff with an air which evidently implied that he was unconscious of 
 the action. The whites of his eyes bear a much greater proportion to the coloured 
 part than usual; and he makes them more remarkable by perpetually rolling them 
 about. It is a very curious fact that it is still a dispute what is their colonr, and 
 among the thousand pictures of him hung up in Paris, part make them blue, and part 
 hazel or black. Upon the whole, however, he has a very fine countenance, and I must 
 confess my opinion of his capacity was heightened by observing the fine proportions 
 which it displays." 
 
 Mr. Thacher sailed with his friend from Liverpool in August, and 
 reached home in September. Shortly after his return, he was appointed 
 Librarian of Harvard College. This appointment he accepted, and entered 
 on his duties in 1808. In connection with this office, he prosecuted his 
 theological studies at Cambridge, where he had constant access to the best 
 library in the country. He still continued his connection with the 
 Monthly Anthology, and, by his graceful and polished pen, did much to 
 sustain its high literary reputation. He published a '■ Review of the Con- 
 stitution and Associate Statutes of the Theological Seminary in Andover, 
 with a Sketch of its Rise and Progress ;" which is written with great 
 ability, and is one of the most important pamphlets in the Unitarian con- 
 troversy of that day. It called forth an able and spirited Reply in the 
 Panoplist, at that time the organ of the Orthodox party ; and this, in turn, 
 was replied to by Mr. Thacher, in an article of which the following is the 
 concluding paragraph : — 
 
 " The whole object which induced us to enter into this unpleasant controversy has 
 been attained. We were desirous of reminding those men who were attacking our 
 friends, invading the tranquillity of our churches, and attempting to revive the 
 exploded absurdities of the dark ages, that the friends of rational and scriptural reli- 
 gion, though enemies of theological polemics, are not so, because their antagonists 
 have nothing vulnerable in their system. The charge which they bring, that we have 
 been influenced in this affair by a desire Of interrupting the. harmony of the two sects 
 [Calvinists and Hopkinsians,] who had agreed to forget their differences, will not be 
 believed. We disclaim the imputation- We attacked them, not because they are 
 Hopkinsians, and not because they are Calvinists, but because their conduct and their 
 principles; we believe, all honest Calvinists and Hopkinsians ought to unite in con- 
 demning. The charges we have educed and supported are not to be thus evaded. It 
 stands on record against this institution, and all the waters of the ocean can never 
 wash out the stain, that it has been made what it is. by perverting the pious liberality 
 of well-meaning devotion, and sacrificing the first principles of Protestantism to the 
 gratification of the unholy ambition of aspiring hercsiarchs." 
 
438 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In November, 1810, the Kev. Dr. Kirkland was induet'ed to the Presi- 
 dency of Harvard College ; and, on that occasion, Mr. Thacher had the 
 honour of delivering a Congratulatory Address in Latin. " I had then," 
 says Dr. Greenwood, "just entered College, and I well remember the 
 graceful appearance of the Orator, and the praises which his performance 
 received from all lips, for the propriety of its sentiments and the elegance 
 of its Latinity." 
 
 Mr. Thacher was licensed to preach by the Boston Association, but the 
 exact time I am not able to ascertain. The New South Church in Boston 
 having become vacant by the removal of Dr. Kirkland to Cambridge, Mr. 
 T. was invited to preach to them as a candidate ; and, after a few weeks' 
 probation, received a call to become their Pastor. He accepted the call, 
 and was ordained and installed on the 15th of May, 1811, the Sermon on 
 the occasion being preached by President Kirkland. In a paper which he 
 read to the Ordaining Council, he says, — 
 
 " It may not be superfluous to add that I regard a credible profession of fail h in 
 Jesus Christ as the Messiah — a profession rendered credible by such demonstrations 
 of repentance and obedience as, in the judgment of charity, may evince sincerity — • as 
 the only term of Christian communion, which the Scriptures authorize me to require; 
 and of consequence that I embrace every one who professes this faith, as a friend and 
 brother in the Lord." 
 
 Mr. Thacher entered upon his professional labours with great zeal, and 
 won, in an uncommon degree, the affectionate regards of his people. Be- 
 fore many months, however, his health began to decline, and, in the spring 
 of the year succeeding his settlement, he journeyed, for the benefit of his 
 health, by a somewhat circuitous route, to Saratoga Springs. Having 
 remained there some little time, and received, as he supposed, important 
 benefit from the waters, he set out to return. But the fatigue of the 
 journey and the heat of the weather proved too much for his enfeebled 
 constitution. At Worcester he was attacked with bleeding at the lungs, 
 by which he was detained there nearly a month ; and, when he had recov- 
 ered strength enough to travel by slow stages, he proceeded as far towards 
 home as Brighton, where he stayed some time in the family of his friend, 
 Gorharn Parsons, Esq., amidst all the alleviations which the most devoted 
 kindness could furnish. He returned to his charge in November, and 
 resumed his public labours in a Discourse on " Recovery from Dangerous 
 Sickness." An eloquent extract from the Sermon has been preserved, of 
 which the following is a part : — 
 
 " The last duty to which I have either time or strength to call your attention, is the 
 duty of complete trust in God. And here, my friends, is the reward and triumph of a 
 life of religion. The time to try the value of the maxims on which our lives have 
 been formed, is the hour of severe sickness. The animating bustle and contentions of 
 life no longer engage our attention; our ambitious hopes are over; the sound of fame 
 grows dull to the ear; the voice of flattery no longer soothes us; and " all the wor- 
 shipped pageantry" of pride is fled from before our eyes. Then it is that we fall back 
 on the resources of our own minds. The world deserts us, and we feel, as it were, 
 alone in the universe with our God. How miserable is that man who feels himself, for 
 the first time, in this dread society; whose life has been passed in shaking off the 
 thought of futurity, till the voice of death now forces it in thunder on his ears! How 
 blest is he whose life has been made a scene of preparation for such an hour; spent in 
 habitual communion with God, in humble desires to gain his approbation, and in form- 
 ing himself for that pure society to which death is about to introduce him ; and who, 
 now that flesh and heart fail him, can stretch his feeble hand, and lift his languid eye 
 to Heaven, and say, ' God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."' 
 
SAMUEL COOPER TEACHER. 439 
 
 In the month of June, while Mr. Thacher was absent on his journey, he 
 received a great shook by the intelligence of the death of his friend and 
 fellow traveller in foreign lands, Mr. Buckrainster. The beautiful sketch 
 of Mr. B., prefixed to his published Sermons, is from Mr. Thacher's pen ; 
 and it discovers alike the overflowings of fond affection, and a faithful and 
 delicate appreciation of a remarkable character. 
 
 Iu the year 1814 the old meeting-house in Summer Street, which had 
 stood nearly a century, was taken down, and the present substantial and 
 beautiful edifice erected in its place. At the Opening of the New House, 
 Mr. Thacher preached a Sermon entitled " An Apology for Rational and 
 Evangelical Christianity," which was shortly after published. Dr. Green- 
 wood says of it, that "it became a general topic of conversation; and 
 while, by one portion of readers it was praised as an able and lucid expo- 
 sition of intelligible Christianity, and a calm and manly defence of those 
 who had embraced such a faith, it was denounced by another portion as 
 advancing principles subversive of what they called the peculiar and fun- 
 damental doctrines of the Gospel." Not long after this he preached a 
 Sermon on the " Unity of God ;" the design of which, as expressed by his 
 biographer, was " simply to state what the doctrine of the Trinity was, 
 and how irreconcilable it appeared in his mind to the doctrine, so plainly 
 revealed and so forcibly inculcated in the Scriptures, of the Unity of the 
 Divine nature ; how slender, beside, the support was which it derived from 
 the Bible ; and how expressly it was contradicted by the instructions, the 
 prayers and the conduct of our Saviour." A manuscript copy of the dis- 
 course having been sent across the water, it was printed there without the 
 author's knowledge, and was subsequently reprinted more than once in 
 Massachusetts. Both these sermons contained probably a more formal 
 and vigorous defence of Unitarian views than had been previously pre- 
 sented iu any sermons published in this country. In the same year that 
 this latter sermon was preached, he superintended the Boston edition of 
 Yates' Vindication of Unitarianism, to which he added "A Dissertation 
 on the kind and degree of evidence necessary to establish the doctrine of 
 the Trinity, and by which we might expect the doctrine of the Trinity 
 would be supported in the Scriptures." 
 
 In the autumn of 1815 he had another attack of hemorrhage from the 
 lungs, followed by a prostration of strength that quite unfitted him for 
 active labour. Having passed the winter and spring in a state of great 
 debility, his physicians recommended that he should cross the ocean, and 
 his congregation generously concurred in carrying out the measure. Ac- 
 cordingly, in the month of August, he took leave of his friends amidst the 
 tenderest anxieties and deepest regrets, and embarked for Liverpool, where 
 he arrived, after a pleasant voyage and with improved health, sometime in 
 September. On reaching London, he consulted the most eminent physi- 
 cians, and they united in the opinion that his lungs were not seriously 
 affected, but still that there existed a powerful tendency to morbid affec- 
 tion, which required that he should resort to a different climate ; and the 
 place which they at length selected for his winter's residence was the Cape 
 of Good Hope. Accordingly, he embarked about the 20th of October, and, 
 after a much more comfortable voyage than he had anticipated, arrived at 
 
440 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 the Cape on the last day of the year. At Cape Town, where he first stop- 
 ped, he met with great hospitality, particularly from a family who had been 
 in Boston, and had shared the kindness of his own relatives. In conse- 
 quence, however, of an unpleasant Southeast wind, which prevailed at 
 Cape Town, pouring over the Table Mountain in hot and violent gusts, he 
 removed, after a few days, to a village called Stellenbosch, about twenty- 
 five miles distant, which he describes as one of the most beautiful resi- 
 dences in the world. 
 
 Mr. Thacher remained at this village, surrounded with much that was 
 attractive in nature, and having access withal to some very good society, 
 till the beginning of April ; though it would seem that, during the latter 
 part of his residence there, his health had improved less than he had 
 allowed himself to hope. Early in April, he set sail for England, and, on 
 the 18th day of the passage, the ship suddenly sprung aleak, and took in 
 water so rapidly as to excite great alarm among the passengers ; and some 
 of them left her at the Island of Ascension. Mr. Thacher, however, in 
 consequence of the assurance of the Captain that there was no danger, 
 remained on board ; and, on the 25th of June, was safely landed at Has- 
 tings, 'whence he proceeded directly to London. 
 
 It was evident that his health had suffered, rather than been improved, 
 by the voyage ; though, after being a few weeks in England, he seemed to 
 have recovered in a great degree the strength which he had lost. He had 
 hoped and expected to be able now to return home ; but his medical 
 advisers in London thought it would be a hazardous experiment, and 
 advised him, at the expense of undergoing a yet more protracted absence 
 from his country and his friends, to pass the following winter in a milder 
 climate. In deference to their judgment he repaired to Paris, towards 
 the end of August, and, after remaining there a few weeks, passed on to 
 Moulins, the chief town in the Department of the Allier, — a place cele- 
 brated for the mildness and salubrity of its climate. From the time that 
 he arrived in France his health rapidly declined : and it was manifest to 
 all but himself that the time of his departure was at hand. On the 17th 
 of December, he was cheered by a visit from his friend, Professor Edward 
 Everett, who, being disappointed in not finding him in Paris, had made 
 the journey from Paris to Moulins on purpose to see him. The following 
 extract of a letter, written by Mr. Everett from Paris to Judge Thacher, 
 furnishes an affecting narrative of the close of Mr. Thacher's life : — 
 
 " Other letters will perhaps inform you of every interesting circumstance relative to 
 this event; and from Mr. Thompson's family you -will gather in the spring the most 
 particular accounts. Their constant attentions, which contributed not a little to render 
 the last days of our dear brother as comfortable as could have been hoped, and far 
 more so than might have been expected, in a foreign land, will enable them to satisfy, 
 to its extent, your curiosity in this respect. But I cannot forbear mentioning to you 
 what I had myself an opportunity of observing, or have learned from his servant. 
 
 " The journey to Moulins was very fatiguing, and immediately followed by symji- 
 " toms both distressing and alarming. This seems to have been the last effort of nature 
 to throw off the disease, and, not being successful, as from the character of the com- 
 plaint, such an effort could not be. — an unfavourable turn was to be anticipated. But, 
 as the local symptoms yielded, under the treatment of Dr. Bell, as the lost appetite 
 began to return, and as there was the promise of a mild and pleasant winter, instead 
 of apprehending any ultimate bad effect of this attack, it seemed only to have delayed 
 awhile the experiment to be made of the climate. But I do not think that any con- 
 siderable portion of the strength lost in this severe attack, was ever recovered ; and it 
 seems to have put the delicate springs of life, already so long and greatly strained, to 
 
SAMUEL COOPER TEACHER. 441 
 
 a trial beyond them to sustain. Nevertheless he continued to go out in pleasant 
 weather, and even declined being attended on his walks. He was able to take his 
 food with appetite, he slept well, and was invariably cheerful and tranquil. His cough, 
 however, appeared to gain, and, without being, at single efforts, very distressing, or 
 attended at all with loss of blood, was, by its continuance, very exhausting. 
 
 " It was in this condition, after an interval of about seven weeks from his arrival at 
 Moulins, that I saw him. I had been much grieved, on my own account, at finding that 
 he had left Paris but four days before I reached it ; and I determined to go and see 
 him as soon as I could make the arrangement. On my arriving at Moulins, 1 met him 
 walking in the street, much altered indeed from what I had last seen him at home. 
 The wind was quite violent, and I immediately accompanied him to his lodgings. 
 That was the last time but one that he ever went out. I passed the time I was there 
 entirely with him; and, though it fatigued him to talk, he felt interested in hearing 
 me, and I related to him all I could recall of my travels and observations in various 
 countries, which I thought would amuse him. He asked some questions, but, upon 
 the whole, his attention seemed fixed on higher things. 
 
 " The day that I left him, he felt himself weaker than usual, and desired Col. Bur- 
 roughs to lend bim his arm to walk out. This was the last time he ever went abroad. 
 When I bade him farewell, which I strived to do without betraying the anxiety and sor- 
 row I felt, we exchanged the expectation of meeting in Paris in the spring, and he added 
 that he had now no wish but to return to America. From that day he grew weaker, and 
 I soon received a letter from Mr. Thompson, mentioning that he was visibly failing. 
 The 1st of January, in the afternoon, he was seized with very violent pains, and was 
 obliged to go to bed. Dr. Bell, on being called, thought it his duty, as he has himself 
 written me, to announce to him that he could probably continue but a few hours. 
 ' This intelligence,' says Dr. B., ' he received with perfect tranquillity and resignation ; 
 and he proceeded to make some arrangement of his affairs. His pains had yielded to 
 the applications made, and he passed the night better than was feared. Capt. Bur- 
 roughs and his servant Joseph watched with him. In the morning his pains returned 
 with new violence. This struggle was the last, and, like all the rest, was borne with a 
 sweet fortitude that makes one ashamed of impatience at the little sufferings of life. 
 After this he was at ease, and, though he said but little, recognized the persons around 
 him, and discovered himself to be in possession of his reason, as his calmness evinced 
 him to be in the full exercise of his faith. A little after twelve he called for some 
 syrup to moisten his lips. His servant gave it him ; he swallowed it without difficulty ; 
 rested his cheek upon his hand, and ceased to breathe! — ■"He died,' said his servant, 
 ' like an angel.' The last mournful offices were performed with every possible mark 
 of respect, and Dr. Bell read prayers over his lifeless remains." 
 
 Besides the Sermons, &c. already mentioned, Mr. Thacher published more 
 or less in nearly all the volumes of the Anthology, and one article iu the 
 General Repository and Review. In 1824 there was published a volume 
 of his Sermons, including those which had been printed in his lifetime, in 
 connection with a Memoir of his life by the Rev. Dr. Greenwood. These 
 sermons are written with excellent taste, and are evidently the productions 
 of a highly cultivated mind. Most of them are on practical subjects, 
 though there are several which indicate very clearly some of the distinctive 
 features of the author's creed. I do not find any thing, however, to show 
 directly what rank he assigned to Jesus Christ, other than that He was 
 not God ; and in respect to the doctrine of Atonement, the following para- 
 graph, from his Sermon on the Unity of God, comes nearer to an expres- 
 sion of his views than perhaps any thing else contained in the volume. 
 
 " Another circumstance which has prevented men from taking a calm survev of this 
 subject," (the Divine Unity,) ''is its supposed connection with what is called the doc- 
 trine of Atonement. I have, on other occasions, given you snch views of the connec- 
 tion of the death of our Lord with human salvation, as have seemed to me just and 
 evangelical. I shall only remark at present, that there is no view of the nature of 
 our Saviour, more eminently inconsistent with every idea of Atonement than that of 
 our Trinitarian brethren; for they all must and do believe that Jesus suffered only in 
 his human nature. It would be too monstrous to suppose that Almighty God Himself 
 wept in agony; that He, whose nature is impassible, endured the severest tortures- 
 that the Creator of the Universe was the scorn and mockery of his sinful creatures' 
 died by their hands, and left, for three days, the Universe without a Governor ! Na- 
 
442 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ture without a God ! This is too horrible to be directly maintained by any one. As, 
 therefore, the Divine nature could not suffer, it was man alone, on this theory, that 
 died for us; and however unwilling to be so conjoined, it is certain that every Trinita- 
 rian precisely agrees with the Socinian, whom he so much abhors." 
 
 FROM PROFESSOR ANDREWS NORTON. 
 
 Cambridge, September 8, 1849. 
 
 Dear Sir : I have not forgotten your request that I would furnish you with 
 some early recollections of my former friend and college classmate, Mr. 
 Thacher. My delay in writing has been occasioned by various circumstances, 
 but especially by the feeling that I had nothing to tell concerning the earlier 
 portion of his life, — while he was an undergraduate, and before he became 
 known to the world, — -which could be of much interest, or would give to 
 others such an impression of his character, during this early period, as is left 
 in the memory of his few surviving contemporary friends. Information con- 
 cerning his later life is afforded by the excellent Memoir of him by Dr. Green- 
 wood. 
 
 He took rank as the first scholar of our class. But the standard of schol- 
 arship was then very low in the College as well as in the country generally. 
 Nor did the College afford us great encouragement, or very much guidance and 
 assistance in our studies. A few of our classmates, among whom Thacher — 
 to go back to the familiar name by which we then called him — was one of 
 those who took the lead, determined to hold meetings for the purpose of 
 encouraging and assisting one another in the study of the ancient classics. I 
 apprehend, however, that but little was effected, except perhaps in strength- 
 ening our taste for this study. Books that we wanted, even books in our own 
 language, which are now within the reach of all, were then unattainable by us. 
 I happen to have lying beside me what I regard as of some curiosity as a docu- 
 ment on the literary history of our country. It is professedly a " Catalogue 
 of all the books printed in the United States," (that is, as is explained, it was 
 " intended to include all of general sale, whether original or reprinted ") 
 " published by the booksellers of Boston." It was published in the year 
 1804, — the year in which the class was graduated of which Mr. Thacher and 
 myself were members. It is comprised in seventy-five small loosely printed 
 duodecimo pages. A very large proportion of the titles are those of forgotten 
 works of that day, or of other books of light reading, of little more value. 
 The whole collection would, at the present time, if advertised by sale at auc- 
 tion, hardly draw together any purchasers. But one purpose of putting forth 
 this Catalogue, as expressed on its title page, was "that the public may see 
 the rapid progress of book printing in » country where, twenty years since, 
 scarcely a book was published." 
 
 It may be concluded that the atmosphere about us was not much impreg- 
 nated with literature. But there were those, and Thacher among them, who 
 were not idle, and whose desultory studies turned to some account; — the 
 more, perhaps, because they were pursued from free will and inclination, and 
 there was no danger that our appetites should be distracted or cloyed by the 
 variety and abundance of the feast set before us. Without doubt, if Mr. 
 Thacher's life had been prolonged, his industry, his love of learning, and the 
 clearness and comprehensiveness of his mind, would have enabled him, even 
 under the oppressive labours of his profession, to become a clergyman of very 
 respectable theological attainments, and a well informed gentleman. 
 
 As an undergraduate, he was more distinguished from those about him than 
 he was at a later period of life, because the qualities which he then exhibited 
 are far more rare at so early an age. Young men are apt to be shrewd ob- 
 servers of what is defective or unpleasant in character, or capable of being vin- 
 
SAMUEL COOPER THACHER. 
 
 443 
 
 dicated. But we all of us liked Thacher. Nobody was jealous of his superi- 
 ority. I recollect that a classmate applied to him the verses with which Pope 
 commences his character of Addison, as being 
 
 " One whose fires 
 
 " True genius handles and fair fame inspires: 
 '' Blest with each talent and each art to please." 
 
 This general liking of him was produced by his equable and amiable tem- 
 per, united with correct conduct and proper self-reliance. He was free net 
 merely from vice, but from all the approaches to vice, in indecorous conversa- 
 tion and manners, which young men sometimes fall into, as giving them a, bold 
 and manly air. There was no distrust of his principles or his sincerity, and 
 every one felt the charm of his gentlemanly manners. 
 
 A little mor"e than three years after our class had left College, he returned 
 to take the office of Librarian. I was, at that time, resident in Cambridge, 
 where the younger officers of the College, with some others associated with 
 them, formed a very agreeable and intellectual society, of which I have else- 
 where — in a short Memoir of Professor Frisbie — given some notice. I 
 remember the remark of my friend whom I have just named, concerning Mr. 
 Thacher, that he reminded him of what Cumberland, in his Memoirs, said of 
 Soame Jenyns, — ■ that his company at our meetings was like bread at dinner, 
 which we cannot dispense with, whatever else may be on the table. I have 
 not quoted Cumberland's words, nor did he, but I have given his meaning. 
 
 I have just been looking over — I presume for the last time — a pile of Mr. 
 Thacher's letters to me, written while we were undergraduates, and for 
 some years after. I will venture to give one of them, (they all much resem- 
 ble each other,) which may illustrate the traits of character I have touched 
 upon. 
 
 Cambridge, October, 1807. 
 '•' My dear Norton: Tour note — I will not dignify it with the name of letter — vexed 
 me as much as any thing could from one for whom I cannot for more than a minute feel 
 any thing but affection. If you meant it as a challenge to decide which of us can write 
 the shortest letter, meaning by that, which of us can say the least on the least paper, 
 I think I may venture to encounter you. But if you mean to say which of us can say 
 the least on the most paper, I am afraid I shall be obliged to succumb; for really at the 
 arts of leaving large margins, separating words by long intervals, and other goodly 
 devices, you are quite unrivalled. 
 
 " ' Ludo multum frustraque laboro 
 " ' Ausus idem. 1 
 
 "In good' truth, however, the only condition on which you can expect pardon for 
 such scandalous brevity, is to come in person to Cambridge to make your apologies. 
 On Tuesday is Exhibition; when the Muses, you know, are always in holyday attire 
 particularly Melpomene. _ Their charms, added to the usual attractions of the plaeej 
 nust, I suppose, be irresistible. As then, I expect to see you so soon, there can be 
 no propriety in wasting any more ink. Now, I take it, here is, to say the least, as 
 good an apology for concluding a letter as yours. What do you think ? 
 
 " Yours always, 
 
 "S. C. THACHER." 
 
 " How would you delight me by informing me of your intention of returning to 
 Cambridge. I should think that the days that have passed were about to be renewed 
 
 1 Tecum etenim longos memini consumere soles 
 ' Et tecum primas epulis decerpere noctes.' " 
 
 His other letters are characterized by the same playful humour, ease and 
 grace, and the same expression of kind affections. 
 
 Having thrown together these few notices of the early character of Mr. 
 Thacher, I find myself on ground pre-occupied by Mr. Greenwood in his 
 
444 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Memoir prefixed to the Sermons of Mr. Thacher, published by him. No one 
 will attempt to do again what he has done with his usual taste, feeling and 
 truth. 
 
 My friends Thacher, Greenwood and Frisbie ! Other names of those who 
 have passed away have presented themselves to my mind, while writing, 
 awakening feelings which may slumber, but not die, and bringing with them 
 associations more connected with another life than the present. 
 
 The epitaph annexed to the Memoir of Mr. Greenwood was written by my- 
 self. It has the merit that there is nothing said in it which I did not believe 
 to be true when I wrote it ; and there is nothing which, after an interval of 
 thirty years, I do not still believe to be true. 
 
 It will give me pleasure if this imperfect sketch of the early character of Mr. 
 Thacher should prove of any service to you in your work. At all events, I 
 shall not regret having written it, if you will accept it as a proof of my good 
 will. "With sincere respect, 
 
 Dear Sir, yours faithfully, 
 
 ANDREWS NORTON. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JAAZANIAH CROSBY, D. D. 
 
 Chaelestown, N. H., December 4, 1861. 
 My dear Friend: My acquaintance with Samuel Cooper Thacher commenced 
 with his collegiate course at Cambridge, when we entered the same class in the 
 year 1800. He was then not more than fifteen or sixteen years of age; but 
 he soon became a universal favourite. Being a friend to all, he was beloved by 
 all. His speech was always with grace, as he well knew how to answer 
 every man. His personal appearance was remarkably attractive, and in his 
 fine open countenance you might have read equanimity, mildness, intelligence, 
 benevolence. To no one could have been more justly applied the couplet of 
 Pope : — 
 
 " Of manners gentle, of affections mild, 
 '' In wit a man, simplicity a child." 
 
 His mind was of a high order, and cultivated with commendable diligence. 
 His qualifications for the ministry may fairly be inferred from the fact "that he 
 was the immediate successor of the celebrated Dr. Kirkland; and " a man he 
 was to all his parish dear," and " passing rich" in all the virtues which adorn 
 the human character. In the combination of virtues which he so beautifully 
 exemplified during his short life, he has left a memorial which will show itself 
 proof against the " effacing fingers of time." " Exegit monumentum sere 
 perennius." (Dum verum et honestum, dum sapientia et mores suavissimi, 
 — dum pietas erga Deum, — dum comitas et caritas erga omnes, — dum haec 
 ominia inhonore sunt,) " semper honos nomenque tuum, laudesquemanebunt." 
 Your friend ever and affectionately, J. CROSBY. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOHN PIERCE, D. D. 
 
 Beookline. March 29, 1849. 
 
 My dear Sir: The Rev. Samuel Cooper Thacher, though he died at an early 
 age, left a deep impression not only upon the people to whom he ministered, 
 but upon the whole community in which he lived. I knew him more or less 
 from early life, and was a member of the same Association with him from the 
 time of his settlement in the ministry till his death. It is easy for me, there- 
 fore, to give you my general impressions of his character. 
 
 In person he was of a middling stature and size. His features were regular, 
 his complexion fair, and his countenance habitually lighted up with a cheerful 
 
HOSEA HILDKETH. 
 
 445 
 
 smile. His manners were polished in a remarkable degree; and yet there was 
 nothing about them to awaken a suspicion of his entire sincerity. 
 
 The general estimation in which he was held as a Preacher is sufficiently 
 indicated by the fact that he was settled, while a young man, in one of the 
 prominent churches in Boston, and, as long as he was able to preach, fully 
 sustained himself in the view of his highly intellectual congregation. His 
 sermons contained much well digested thought, and were written in a style 
 of great purity and elegance. But they were sometimes too refined for common 
 auditors; and his voice and the general state of his health were unfavourable 
 to a highly impressive elocution. His devotional exercises were distinguished 
 for pertinence, propriety and solemnity. 
 
 In his pastoral visits he was most truly at home. He possessed the finest 
 social qualities, mingling dignity with affability, and cheerfulness with serious- 
 ness. No matter into what circle he might be thrown, he always maintained 
 that propriety of speech and behaviour, which conciliated not only favour to 
 the man but respect to his office. Hence his acquaintance was eagerly desired 
 by his people; and, as his health was feeble, he allowed himself more time 
 for pastoral intercourse than he would probably, under other circumstances, 
 have felt able to spare from his studies. 
 
 He had the rare faculty not only of writing on subjects of religious contro- 
 versy, but, what is more unusual, of discussing them in conversation, without 
 losing his good temper. His Review of the Statutes of the Andover Theo- 
 logical Seminary, published in the Anthology of 1808, was written with so 
 much ability that some leading men, of the Calvinistic or Hopkinsian school, 
 pertinaciously ascribed it, in spite of assurances to the contrary, to Chief 
 Justice Parsons. 
 
 The news of his death, occurring, as it did, in a distant country, produced no 
 ordinary sensation in the circle in which he had been accustomed to move % ; 
 and even at this distant period there are not a few who recall his bland and 
 amiable manners, his instructive conversation, his exemplary deportment, the 
 workings of his benign and gentle spirit, with sad and grateful interest. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 JOHN PIEKCE. 
 
 HOSEA HILDRETH* 
 
 1811 — 1835. 
 
 Hosea Hildreth was born at Chelmsford, Mass., on the 2d of Jan- 
 uary, 1782. He was a son of Timothy and Hannah Hildreth, and fifth in 
 descent on both the father's and mother's side, (his father and mother be- 
 ing cousins,) from Kichard Hildreth, the progenitor of all the New England 
 Hildreths, an emigrant from the North of England to Massachusetts, of 
 which Colony he was admitted a freeman in 1643. He settled first in 
 Woburn, but removed in 1654 to Chelmsford, of which town he was one of 
 the original grantees, and in the neighbourhood of which many of his 
 descendants are still to be found. Shortly after the birth of Hosea his 
 father removed to Vermont, and settled himself as a farmer, but subse- 
 
 * MS. from his Son, Mr. Kichard Hildreth. 
 
446 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 quently returned to Massachusetts, and purchased a farm in Sterling, 
 Worcester County, where he passed the remainder of his life. 
 
 An accident to one of Hosea's arms, which incapacitated him for labour- 
 ing on a farm, turned his attention to study. He prepared himself for 
 College under the instruction of the Rev. Mr. Holcomb,* then the Congre- 
 gational minister of Sterling, and, in due time, entered at Harvard, where 
 he graduated in 1805. He commenced the study of Divinity, hut, having 
 married within a year after his graduation, he resorted to' teaching as a 
 means of supporting his family. Having been engaged for a short time in 
 this way at Lynn, he went to Deerfield, Mass., and took charge of the 
 Academy there, where he remained two years. He then taught for a year 
 at Brighton, near Boston, when he was appointed Professor of Blathe- 
 matics and Natural Philosophy at Phillips Exeter Academy, whither he 
 removed in 1811, and where he spent the next fourteen years. Meanwhile, 
 he had been licensed to preach, and, on first moving to Exeter, he supplied 
 the pulpit of the Congregational Society in that place, of which the Rev. 
 Isaac Hurdt soon after became Pastor. He was subsequently in the habit 
 of supplying vacant parishes in the neighbourhood, and was always ready 
 to assist his brethren in the region around, when they had occasion for his 
 services. In 1825 he removed to Gloucester, Mass., and was ordained and 
 installed minister of the First Parish in that town, on the 3d of August, — 
 the Sermon on the occasion being preached by the Rev. Dr. Holmes, of Cam- 
 bridge. As Mr. Hildreth was naturally averse to controversy, and withal 
 had many warm friends, — laymen and clergymen, — among both the Ortho- 
 dox and the Unitarians, he exerted himself to the utmost to prevent the 
 division between the two parties which was then nearly consummated. He 
 is believed to have been the last minister settled in Massachusetts by a 
 Council in which both parties were represented ; and the last who exchanged 
 indiscriminately with both. For a long time, and it is believed even when 
 he was settled at Gloucester, he accepted the Orthodox doctrine of the 
 Trinity; though his subsequent examinations of the subject, as I am 
 assured by a member of his own family, resulted in his becoming an Arian 
 — on other points, however, his views are said to have been in substantial 
 accordance with the Orthodox Theology. His society was of a mixed 
 character, — partly Unitarian and partly Orthodox ; but they seem gener- 
 ally to have approved of his policy, and to have been satisfied with his min- 
 istrations. 
 
 As he persisted in exchanging with Unitarians, he was finally disowned 
 by the Essex Association, to which he belonged ; and this was quickly fol- 
 lowed by the establishment of an Orthodox church within the bounds of 
 his parish. This latter circumstance gave him great uneasiness; but so 
 much had he the affection and confidence of his people at large that the 
 
 * Reuben Holcomb was born in Simsbury, Conn., in 1752; was graduated at Tale College 
 in 1774; was ordained, and installed Pastor of the Church in Sterling, June 10, 1779 ; resigned 
 his pastoral charge, June 15, 1814; and died October 18, 1826, aged seventy-four years. He 
 published a Fast Sermon, delivered at Sterling, 1812. 
 
 f Isaac Hurd was a native of Charlestown, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1806; was ordained, and installed Pastor of the Church in Lynn, Mass., September 15, 1813; 
 was dismissed on the 22d of May, 1816 ; was installed Pastor of a Church in Exeter, N. H., 
 September 11, 1817 ; was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Dartmouth 
 College in 1854; and died in 1856. 
 
HOSEA HILDRETH. 447 
 
 Orthodox portion of his congregation generally remained with him till he 
 resigned his pastoral charge. 
 
 Mr. Hildreth was among the early and most efficient friends of the Tem- 
 perance Reform. His lectures on the subject attracted great attention in 
 various places, and he was at length appointed Agent of the Massachusetts 
 Temperance Society. Iu consequence of this, he asked a dismission from 
 his charge, which was granted on the 31st of December, 1833. After 
 serving this Society for a few months, he accepted an invitation to settle 
 over a small congregation in Wes thorough, and was installed there on the 
 28th of October, 1834. But his labours were now approaching their close. 
 In the spring of 1835 he retired to Sterling, with his health greatly 
 reduced, and died there on the 10th of the next July. 
 
 The following is a list of Mr. Hildreth 's publications : — 
 
 Two Discourses to Townsmen, 182-1. A Discourse to the Students of 
 Phillips Exeter Academy, 1825. Book for New Hampshire Children, 
 1825. A Discourse on Ministerial Fidelity, 1827. A Discourse occa- 
 sioned by the Death of Dr. William Coffin, 1827. The Difficulties of the 
 Bible no Excuse for neglecting what it Teaches : A Sermon published in 
 the American Evangelist, 1828. The Kingdom of Jesus Christ not of 
 this World : A Dudleian Lecture delivered before the University of Cam- 
 bridge, 1829. Book for Massachusetts Children, 1829. Duties and Rights 
 of a Congregational Minister : A Sermon and Statement, with Notes, 1830. 
 View of the United States for the use of Schools, 1830. 
 
 Mr. Hildreth was married on the 7th of September, 1806, to Sarah; 
 daughter of John McLeod, who was a native of Scotland, but migrated to 
 this country and settled in Boston, where this daughter was born. She was 
 left an orphan at an early age, and was brought up in the family of the 
 Rev. Mr. Holcomb, of Sterling. Mrs. Hildreth survived her husband 
 many years, and died at Gloucester, on the 21st of January, 1859. They 
 had seven children ; three sons and four daughters. The eldest son, 
 Richard, was graduated at Harvard College in 1826, and has attained to 
 high distinction as an author, particularly by his History of the United 
 States, in six vols., 8vo. The second son, Samuel Tenney, was graduated 
 at the same College, and died about one year after his graduation. The 
 third, Charles Hosea, graduated in the Medical department at Cambridge, 
 and is settled as a physician at Gloucester. 
 
 PROM THE HON. CHARLES WENTWORTH UPHAM. 
 
 Salem, February 27, 1861. 
 My dear Sir: I am glad you propose to notice the late Rev. Hosea Hildreth. 
 His memory ought to be held in honour. It is true that he continued to the 
 last to appear to stand between the two denominations into which the Trini- 
 tarian controversy sundered the old Congregational churches of Massachus- 
 etts. He adhered to that position, not because he was at all unsettled or 
 uncertain in his own opinions, but because he considered the essence of religion 
 a Divine spirit of love, and hoped that all estrangements occasioned by the 
 perplexing controversial discussions prevalent at that time, would ultimately 
 give way to a purer concord, in which Orthodoxy would not be lost, but Truth 
 be enthroned in peace. 
 
'448 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In this faith he endured to the end, extending his hands in unfaltering fel- 
 lowship on both sides, and cherishing a fraternal regard for all. 
 
 His theological tenets, there is, I think, no reason to doubt were in accord- 
 ance with those generally entertained, before controversy drove to sharper 
 points and nicer distinctions, in the religious community in which - he was 
 educated. Nothing, in a long and familiar intimacy, ever led me to suspect 
 that they had undergone any material modification. 
 
 The course to which he adhered of maintaining ministerial intercourse with 
 clergymen who became known as Unitarians, threw him finally almost wholly 
 among them. But this was not owing to any change in his opinions, but alto- 
 gether to the rigid exclusiveism then enforced. 
 
 The peculiar position of Mr. Ilildreth in the theological arrangements which 
 occurred about that time, the views that actuated him, and the spirit he ex- 
 pressed, gave him a place in a class of divines represented by distinguished 
 names in English and American Churches; — the class in which Bishop Watson 
 may be considered one of the brightest ornaments. The noble Preface to the 
 invaluable Collection of Theological Tracts, compiled by that great man, 
 defines and illustrates, more perfectly than any document that now occurs to 
 me, Mr. Hildreth's sentiments and principles of action. 
 
 He was most emphatically, and to the very core, an honest man. In natu- 
 ral sagacity he had few superiors. A vein of original humour and genuine 
 wit enriched and enlivened his more elaborate performances, and made his 
 social intercourse interesting and attractive as well as instructive. 
 
 His manners were simple and most unpretending. His views of life were 
 just and enlightened, and that rarest of attainments, a thorough knowledge 
 of human nature, rendered him a valuable friend, a useful member of society, 
 and an effective preacher. 
 
 The qualities of his head and heart were appreciated by all who knew him. 
 His forbearing and conciliatory spirit softened the asperities and assuaged the 
 animosities of a controversial age. His energies were expended in benignant 
 influences, too constant to be enumerated, and too pervading to be noticed by 
 the pen of contemporaries. They were traced in his daily life and conversa- 
 tion, and their record and reward are on high. 
 
 It gives me real pleasure to recall to life a dear departed friend, and to 
 express my affection for, by serving, a beloved living one. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 CHARLES W. UPHAM. 
 
 FROM THE REV. LEONARD WITHINGTON, D. D. 
 
 Newbury, March 14, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir: The first I heard of Mr. Hildreth was as a Teacher of Phillips 
 Academy, Exeter, under Dr. Abbot. I heard him represented then as a man 
 of the Liberal school, gradually verging towards Orthodoxy; and he was some- 
 what celebrated for a series of articles he published, I think in an Exeter 
 paper; but I am totally unable to recover the definite recollection of the sub- 
 ject and the date. After he came to Gloucester, I became rather intimate 
 with him, and our intimacy continued for several years. He was an impres- 
 sive preacher — he had a beautiful clear style, which reminded you of Dr. Paley. 
 At Gloucester he seemed to vibrate back to the most conservative type of 
 TJnitarianism. He' associated much with Dr. Lowell of Boston; but still I 
 supposed him not to be a dscided Unitarian. He wished Dr. Perry, of Brad- 
 ford, (now Goochland,) and myself to unite with him in a series of meetings. 
 We went to see him, and told him if he would do as Dr. Parish had done, 
 under imputed defections, — publish a Sermon on the Deity of Christ, such as 
 
FRANCIS PARKMAN. 449 
 
 we supposed he had, we would come; but we did not wish to he misunder- 
 stood. The meeting was calm and pleasant until we were about to part — 
 then he burst into a torrent of feeling, wept like a child, and said that if all 
 his friends forsook him, his Saviour would not. He spoke of dying a martyr 
 to his own cause, though I did not know definitely what it was. I could not 
 but suspect something morbid in the state of his mind at that time. But my 
 recollections of him are exceedingly pleasant, as a man of a superior mind and 
 highly cultivated taste, a correct and perspicuous writer and a perfect gentle- 
 man. Yours truly, 
 
 LEONARD WITHINGTON. 
 
 FRANCIS PARKMAN, D. D * 
 
 1811 — 1852. 
 
 Francis Parkman was born in Boston June 4, 1788. He was a 
 son of Samuel and Sarah (Rogers) Parkman, and a grandson of the Rev. 
 Ebenezer Parkman, who was, for many years, a highly esteemed Congre- 
 gational minister in Westborough, Mass. His father was an eminent 
 merchant in Boston, and was well known, during nearly his whole active 
 life, in the walks of commercial and benevolent enterprise. He (the son) 
 was fitted for College in his native town, chiefly by Mr. William Wells. t 
 He entered the Sophomore class at Cambridge in 1804, and graduated a 
 highly respectable scholar, in 1807. Shortly after leaving College, he com- 
 menced the study of Theology, under the direction of the Rev. (after- 
 wards Br.) W. E. Channing, and, about the same time, contributed to one 
 of the Boston papers a series of brief articles on moral and religious sub- 
 jects, which were considered as highly creditable to both his talents and cul- 
 ture. He continued his studies with Br. Channing, without being licensed 
 to preach, till May, 1810, making about three years, when he embarked 
 for Europe. 
 
 He arrived in Liverpool in June, and, after visiting London and other 
 places of interest in England, went to Edinburgh, where he passed the 
 winter following. Here he entered his name in the Bivinity School, and 
 also attended some of the medical lectures. Br. Ritchie was, at that time, 
 
 * MSS. from his son, Francis Parkman, Esq., and Rev. Ephraim Peabody, D. D. 
 
 f William Wells was a son of the Rev. William Wells, (who forms the subject of a distinct 
 sketch in this work,) and was born in Bromsgrove, Worcestershire, England, April 27, 1773. 
 Before coming to this country, he had gone through a course of studies at the Dissenting 
 College in Hackney, having been fitted by the celebrated classical scholar, Gilbert Wakefield. 
 After he came to America, and before going to College, he taught a school in Wethersfield, Conn. 
 He entered Harvard College in the last term of the Junior year, 1795, and held a high rank 
 as a scholar till the close of his collegiate course. He was Latin Tutor in College from 1798 
 to 1800 ; and, on retiring from the Tutorship, made a visit to his native country. It had been 
 his intention to devote himself to the ministry, but the delicacy of his health led him to 
 relinquish the purpose. In 1802 he was appointed usher in the Boston" Latin School, where 
 he remained about two years. He then engaged in business as a bookseller in Boston, and 
 continued in it till about the year 1830; and was, at the same time, a teacher of a private 
 school. On leaving his business, he also left Boston, and removed to Cambridge, where he 
 opened a classical school for boys, which he continued very successfully for many years, till 
 the infirmities of age compelled him to relinquish it. He died at Cambridge, on the 21st of 
 April, 1860, aged eighty-seven years, lacking six days. He was prominently identified with 
 the Unitarian controversy as early as 1815. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 29 
 
450 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Professor of Theology. The course pursued by students who went, as Mr 
 Parkman did, for only a single session, was merely to attend the lectures 
 of the Professor in the Hall, and to hear the dissertations of the students. 
 Mr. Parkman, in the course of the session, read a discourse, which received 
 the approbation of the Professor. 
 
 In March, 1811, he left Great Britain for the Continent, where he spent 
 several months, visiting most of the principal cities and other places of 
 special interest. He returned to London late in the autumn of the same 
 year. Here he commenced preaching, though without the formality of a 
 special license. All that was considered necessary, at that time, among 
 the Independents of England, was an invitation from a regular minister to 
 preach in his pulpit. Mr. Parkman was invited to preach, and did preach, 
 his first sermon in the Chapel in Hanover Street, Long Acre, of which the 
 Rev. Mr. Worthington, a reputed Arian, was minister. It is believed that 
 he preached in but one other instance during his stay in London. 
 
 He left London in March, 1812, and, after spending a short time at 
 Oxford, proceeded to Liverpool. Here he preached several Sabbaths for 
 the Unitarian Society of which the Rev. Mr. Lewin was Pastor; and so 
 acceptable were his services that he was invited to become associated with 
 Mr. L. in his pastoral charge. He, however, declined the call, having no 
 thought of remaining in England, and shortly after embarked for his 
 native country. 
 
 After his return, he preached in various places, and, for a considerable 
 time, in the First Church, Boston, then vacant by the death of the Rev. 
 William Emerson. A few months after Dr. Eliot's death, which occurred 
 in February, 1813, he was employed by the New North Church, of which 
 Dr. E. had been Pastor, to preach as a candidate; and the result was that, 
 on the 8th of December following, he was ordained and installed Pastor 
 of that Church. The Sermon on the occasion was preached by his former 
 Theological Instructor, the Rev. William E. Channing. In connection 
 with this Church, Mr. Parkman passed the whole period of his ministry. 
 
 In 1834 he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard College. 
 
 In 1839 he delivered a Discourse on the completion. of the twenty-fifth 
 jfear of his ministry, in which he reviews the entire history of the Church 
 of which he was Pastor. The Discourse was published, and it possesses 
 .an enduring historical interest. 
 
 On the 7th of December, 1842. Mr. Amos Smith, a graduate of Har. 
 vard College, in the class of 1838, was associated with Dr. Parkman as 
 Colleague Pastor. From this time, the Doctor was relieved from any obli- 
 gation to further labour, though he was always ready to assist Mr. Smith 
 in the -pulpit, and to perform other duties which naturally devolved upon 
 him asSeuior Pastor. After Mr. Smith's resignation of his pastoral charge, 
 which took place in June, 1848, Dr. Parkman addressed a letter to the 
 Society, relinquishing, at the expiration of a certain period, the charge of 
 supplying the pulpit to such Committee as they should appoint. This was 
 done that the Society might have every facility for hearing candidates. In 
 the same letter he requests that, after the settlement of a new Pastor, his 
 own relations and duties as Pastor should cease. Mr. Joshua Young, a 
 
FRANCIS PAEKMAN. 451 
 
 graduate of Bowdoin College, in the class of 1845, was ordained, and in- 
 stalled as successor to Mr. Smith, in February, 1849, at which time, Dr. 
 Parkman's connection with the congregation was virtually dissolved ; 
 though, on account of other interests connected with his office as a Congre- 
 gational Minister, the dissolution did not formally take place until the 1st 
 of March following. He preached his Farewell Sermon on the 28th of 
 January preceding, from Acts xx, 32 ; "And now, brethren, I commend 
 you to God, &c." The Eesolutions adopted by the Society, on his leaving 
 them, express " an unfeigned and undiminished affection and respect " for 
 him, as having been, through his long ministry, "a truly Christian Pas- 
 tor," and as "entitled to their lasting gratitude." 
 
 In 1844-45 Dr. Parkman revisited Europe, and spent six months in 
 travelling in Great Britain and on the Continent. He was suffering, at 
 this time, not a. little, from the effect of nervous derangement, which pre- 
 vented much of the enjoyment he might otherwise have received from the 
 scenes and objects with which he was brought in contact. 
 
 From the time of his first having a colleague, he was always ready, when 
 he did not supply his own pulpit, to aid his brethren. After he resigned 
 his charge, this fraternal assistance was still widely rendered. If any one 
 was sick, or in trouble, he was always ready to help, often going to places 
 at a considerable distance. He preached nearly every Sunday, and never, 
 it is said, with more acceptance than in the closing part of his life. And 
 he rarely preached without writing a new sermon, or re-writing an old 
 one. 
 
 In the autumn of 1852 Dr. Parkman went to Baltimore, Md., to attend 
 a. Convention of Unitarian ministers, — the last meeting of any Public 
 Body that he ever attended. He was appointed President of the Conven- 
 tion, — an office for which his quick discernment, and prompt and grace- 
 ful utterance, and familiarity with the forms of public business, eminently 
 qualified him. He had but just returned from this journey, when his 
 friends and the community at large were astounded by the tidings of his 
 sujiden death. He died on the 12th of November, 1852, aged sixty-six 
 years. 
 
 Dr. Parkman was largely connected with Associations, of a religious, 
 benevolent and educational kind, and held offices of high responsibility in 
 quite a number of them. In 1829 he founded the Professorship of Pulpit 
 Eloquence and the Pastoral Care in the Theological department of Har- 
 vard College; of which his friend, the Rev. Henry Ware, Jr., was the 
 first incumbent. When the Society for the Relief of Aged and Indigent 
 Unitarian Clergymen was formed in 1849, he took an active part in its 
 concerns, bestowed upon it his bounty, and accepted the office of its First 
 Vice President, which he held till his death. A considerable part of his 
 library he bequeathed to Harvard College. 
 
 He was married, in 1817, to Sarah, daughter of Samuel Cabot, of Bos- 
 ton, who died the next year, leaving a daughter. In 1822 he was married 
 to Caroline Hall, of Medford, who became the mother of several children 
 and survived him. He had six children living at the time of his death. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Parkman's publications : — 
 
 A Survey of God's Providence in the Establishment of the Churches of 
 
452 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 New England : A Sermon delivered in Boston, on the Completion of a 
 Century since the Settlement of the New North Church, 1814. A Ser- 
 mon delivered at the Interment of the Rev. John Lathrop, D. D., Pastor 
 of the Second Church in Boston, 1816. The Providence of God displayed 
 in the Revolutions of the World : A Sermon preached in the New North 
 Church, Boston, on occasion of the Recent Revolutions in the Government 
 of France„1830. The Spirit of the Christian Ministry : A Sermon deliv- 
 ered at the Ordination of the Rev. John Parkman to the Pastoral Care of 
 the Third Congregational Church in Greenfield, Mass., 1837. Enquiring 
 of the Fathers, or Seeking Wisdom from the Past : A Discourse preached in 
 the New North Church, on the Completion of the one hundred and twenty- 
 fourth year from the Establishment of the Church, and of the twenty-fifth 
 year since the Settlement of the present Pastor, 1839. A Discourse deliv- 
 ered in the Church in Brattle Square, on occasion of the Death of the Rev. 
 John T. Kirkland, D. D., LL. D., Late President of Harvard University, 
 1840. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of the Rev. Amos Smith, as 
 Colleague Pastor of the New North Church in Boston, 1842. Extracts 
 from a Discourse on the late Rev. Professor Ware, 1843. A Sermon deliv- 
 ered in the New North Church, Boston, on the Author's Resigning his 
 Pastoral Charge, 1849. An Offering of Sympathy to Parents bereaved of 
 their children, and to others under affliction ; being a Collection from 
 Manuscripts and Letters not before published ; with an Appendix of Selec- 
 tions. This was first published in 1830, and reached a fourth edition in 
 1854. 
 
 I became acquainted with Dr. Parkman at an early period of my minis- 
 try^ — I think as early as 1822, — and was always in very pleasant, friendly 
 relations with him till the close of his life. I remember to have been, in 
 one or two instances, his guest under very interesting circumstances ; and 
 he visited me several times in his later years ; and I believe the very last 
 time he came to Albany, he spent nearly an entire day with me. I knew, 
 of course, that he was an earnest Unitarian ; but he rarely alluded, in any 
 way, to his denominational peculiarities. 
 
 His varied information, and kindly spirit, and simple yet polished 
 manners, made him exceedingly agreeable in social life. I do not remem- 
 ber to have ever heard him preach, but have heard him speak several 
 times at the meeting of the Massachusetts Bible Society, and at the Mas- 
 sachusetts Convention of Congregational Ministers, and have also heard 
 him pray on two or three public occasions, and in every instance he evinced 
 great self-possession, fluency, appropriateness and dignity. My last visit 
 to him was made but two or three days before his death. I passed an 
 evening in his family, and found him as kind and genial as usual, though 
 he was evidently somewhat depressed in both health and spirits. I took 
 my leave of him without any apprehension that I was to meet him no 
 more ; but before I had reached home, the newspaper brought me the sad 
 intelligence that his earthly career was closed. 
 
FRANCIS PARKMAN. 
 
 453 
 
 FROM THE REV. ISAAC HURD, D. D. 
 
 Exeter, December 9. 1854. 
 
 My dear Sir: I became acquainted with Dr. Parkman in College. He was a 
 diligent and successful student, and moral and exemplary in his whole deport- 
 ment. He discovered a strong desire for knowledge, and an aptitude to avail 
 himself of all the means which presented for general improvement. He was 
 rather peculiar in associating with persons older and more advanced than him- 
 self, from whose acquaintance he might hope to derive advantage. He 
 appeared in this respect to belong to a circle of society above his years. 
 
 Dr. Parkman, so far as I know, was never otherwise than a Unitarian. In 
 Edinburgh he associated with Orthodox clergymen, (indeed, I believe, there 
 were no Unitarians there,) and seemed to appreciate the evangelical character 
 of their sermons, and take pleasure in social and Christian intercourse with 
 them. He entered into no religious controversy, and, as the students of the 
 Theological School were professedly Orthodox, it might have been inferred 
 that Mr. Parkman was Orthodox also. Had the question been proposed to 
 him, he would, I doubt not, have freely avowed his opinions. The Faculty 
 were not in the habit, as far as I could learn, of making any inquiries con- 
 cerning the religious sentiments of those who were desirous of attending lec- 
 tures at Divinity Hall. They simply made remarks upon the religious per- 
 formances of the students. 
 
 In his theological views Dr. Parkman was, at least in the early part of his 
 ministry, an Arian, as opposed to those who deny the pre-existence of Christ. 
 He expressed exalted ideas of the Saviour's character, and openly opposed the 
 Socinian scheme. While he was in London, there appeared, in a Religious 
 Magazine, under the direction of the Rev. Thomas Belsham, an article upon 
 Harvard College, representing that institution as having gone over to Socini- 
 anism, and its President, with many of the Boston ministers, as having become 
 Humanitarians. Dr. Parkman objected to the article as giving an unjust rep- 
 resentation of the Cambridge Theology. Mr. Belsham expressed a desire to 
 be correctly informed, and said if Mr. Parkman would write a letter, present- 
 ing what he considered a just view of the subject, it should be published in the 
 Magazine. Mr. Parkman did so, and the letter was accordingly published. In 
 the later years of his life, though I am not aware that he changed his religious 
 views, he gave greater prominence to the distinctive features of the Unitarian 
 system. He was more desirous to extend what he considered Liberal views of 
 Christianity, and manifested, I think, a stronger aversion to the peculiarities 
 of the Orthodox faith. 
 
 Dr. Parkman was a devotional man, ready and appropriate in prayer. His 
 religious influence, as a fellow traveller, I ever found to be salutary, and I 
 remember it with much satisfaction. Not can I forget the uniform benevolence 
 and kind feeling with which he regarded all around him. It seemed to give him 
 pain to pass a beggar in the street, without opening his hand in charity. 
 His benevolent and social disposition rendered his society at all times agreea- 
 ble, and imparted a cheerfulness and vivacity to the tone of his conversation. 
 Though we differed widely in our religious views, and, being separated by 
 different fields of labour, maintained less frequent intercourse, yet he never 
 failed, from my first acquaintance with him to the close of his life, to exhibit 
 the same friendly feeling, and to inspire an unshaken confidence in his affec- 
 tion and regard. I am, my dear Sir, with great regard, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 ISAAC HURD. 
 
454 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. FREDERICK DAN HUNTINGTON, D. D. 
 
 Roxbuky, Highlands. January 20, 1854. 
 
 My dear Sir: In asking me to revive and set in order my recollections of the 
 Rev. Dr. Francis Parkman, you invite me to a willing service. At his unex- 
 pected departure, which took place a little, more than a year ago, his brethren 
 in the ministry, and a multitude besides, were moved to a sincere mourning. 
 His cordial manners, his cheerful temper, his active habits and animated 
 speech, are all greatly missed among us; but they form a grateful memory. 
 His pleasant familiarity never transgressed the bounds of perfect courtesy; 
 and, even in the less restrained hours of intimate fellowship, something was 
 always present in his deportment to betoken his excellent professional breed- 
 ing. It was his custom, indeed, to insist, with considerable scrupulousness, 
 on those clerical proprieties and formalities, that formerly, more than now, 
 distinguished the ministerial vocation; and those whose taste in these respects 
 was less exacting than his own, will long remember the good-natured rebukes 
 with which he pursued their departures from the ancient rule. At this date, 
 I may justly speak of him as a representative of the older school of gentle- 
 men, and of the distinctive pulpit character of the last generation. 
 
 In his relations to his brethren Dr. Parkman was singularly urbane and 
 conciliatory. Many preachers of his own denomination would be ready to 
 bear testimony, out of a sincere grief, how his friendly countenance encour- 
 aged their beginnings, — -how the cordial grasp of his hand promised sympathy 
 and fraternity; how generously and thoughtfully he appreciated whatever was 
 capable of being honestly commended in their performances. With jin eye 
 naturally quick to detect faults, as his friends could not but know, trained too, 
 by extensive observation and travel, with a, constitutional relish of ludicrous 
 incongruities, and with an honourable frankness in, disapproving what he 
 thought to be wrong, — he yet rarely gave offence by harsh judgments or in- 
 considerate criticisms. An added effect was often given to the native humour 
 of his conversation by certain genial peculiarities in his physiognomy and per- 
 son. But he thoroughly understood the decorum of all occasions, and a kind 
 of refined dignity was not absent even from his more careless moods. He 
 possessed as consummate a skill in making language reflect the play of his own 
 thought and feeling, in ordinary social intercourse, as is often found in any 
 man. There was no rancour in his sarcasm, and no malice in his playfulness. 
 He knew how to choose fit and delicate terms. He loved Scriptural quota- 
 tions in all conjunctures, and was sometimes tempted to use them rather by 
 the appositeness, than by the solemnity, of the circumstances. He kept the 
 attention of the company always awake by piquant terms of expression and 
 quaint phrases. Nor was his wit or eloquence wanting when the tone of the 
 talk was raised. He had an admirable faculty of describing the peculiarities 
 of public men, and the former events with which he had been conversant. Of 
 personal anecdotes he held at command a large fund. These remarkable con- 
 versational gifts, together with his gentle social connections, contributed to 
 the eminence of his position, both in England where he was much respected, 
 and among literary associations at home. 
 
 As a Preacher, Dr. Parkman was uniformly serious and practical. In his 
 long ministry at the " New North," his fidelity and devotion were untiring, 
 as both the living and the dead would affirm. There was great method in his 
 habits. He was a genuine respecter of humble virtue. He honoured the poor 
 saints. He blessed the widow and the fatherless. He was prompt in all the 
 offices of consolation and charity. Family wealth never weakened his work, 
 nor enticed him to forget the claims of the least conspicuous in his flock, — and 
 that is no light honour to his Christian conscience; but it did make him the 
 
FRANCIS PARKMAN. 455 
 
 constant and munificent guardian of penury and distress. He was exceedingly 
 careful to search out the needy, not only in his own congregation, but jn the 
 whole circle of his acquaintance, and especially among those of his own pro- 
 fession, and their families, and to bestow upon them kindly attentions. 
 Every aspect of suffering touched him tenderly. There was no hard spot in 
 his breast. His house was the centre of countless mercies to the various 
 forms of want; and there were few solicitors of alms, local or itinerant, and 
 whether for private necessity or public benefactions, that his doors did not 
 welcome and send away satisfied. 
 
 Though subject to occasional attacks of nervous illness, Dr. Parkman accom- 
 plished large labours. In the Trinitarian controversy he did his share on the 
 Unitarian side. For nearly half a century he contributed more or less to the 
 principal religious and theological publications of his denomination. The 
 processes of his mind were practical however, rather than speculative. His 
 style was not wanting in force, but distinguished rather for clearness and ease. 
 Many of his papers were biographical, narrative, or commemorative. He 
 looked at the vexed questions of Theology, and at ideas of principles, very 
 much in their relation to persons. He spoke extemporaneously with great 
 readiness and often. He took much satisfaction in every evidence afforded 
 him of the comforting influence exerted by a devout work he compiled for the 
 afflicted, called " The Offering of Sympathy." For many years, he has been 
 widely known and esteemed for his efficient interest in some of our most con- 
 spicuous and useful institutions of philanthropy. Among these I may especi- 
 ally mention the "Massachusetts Bible Society," the " Society for Propaga- 
 ting the Gospel," the "Orphan Asylum," the "Humane Society," the 
 "Medical Dispensary," the " Society for the Relief of Aged and Destitute 
 Clergymen," and the "Congregational Chacitable Society." The two former 
 of these are indebted to him for many carefully drawn Reports, and nearly 
 all of them for a protracted term of onerous official services. Whatever cause 
 he believed to promote the elevation or welfare of the community, was sure 
 to find in him a liberal advocate and patron. Harvard University, of which 
 he was an Overseer and frequent visitor, was very dear to his heart, and its 
 concerns touched his personal pride. Throughout he was a zealous and con- 
 sistent friend of the Unitarian movement, but was too catholic in his feelings 
 to favour an exclusive policy towards any Christian sect. 
 
 I cannot entirely pass over his pre-eminent and singular endowments as a 
 conductor of worship. It is not a matter to be enlarged upon; but those who 
 ever joined in Dr. Parkman's public prayers, would feel any notice of him to 
 be incomplete that did not advert to the beautiful and affecting union of fer- 
 vour and simplicity, biblical phraseology and varied allusion, with ever 
 appropriate reference to circumstances and persons, which marked his peti- 
 tions and thanksgivings. I remember that the Rev. Dr. Henry Ware, Jr., 
 Professor at Cambridge, on the Parkman foundation, procured from him a 
 letter giving his conceptions of that exercise, and his own mode of preparation, 
 and that this letter was read by Dr. Ware to the successive classes of students 
 in the Theological School. 
 
 I am, with cordial and constant esteem, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 F. D. HUNTINGTON. 
 
 FROM EDWIN P. WHIPPLE, ESQ. 
 
 Boston, December 16, 1854. 
 My dear Sir: I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, 
 in which you request me to write out my impressions of the character of the 
 late Rev. Dr. Parkman. I regret that my opportunities of seeing and convers- 
 
456 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ing with him were only casual, and I therefore shall not presume to attempt a 
 complete portrait. But, as he possessed, in a pre-eminent degree, one quality 
 which your other correspondents may not have emphasized, and as this 
 quality does not appear in his writings, but was confined to his conversation, 
 I will, with your permission, make it the special subject of my remarks. 
 This quality was humour; and humour, not merely as a power of his mind, 
 but as an element of his character, and an instinct of his nature. In him it 
 seemed made up of feeling and insight in equal proportions. In its most intel- 
 lectual manifestations, it evinced that its source was in a kindly, tolerant and 
 beneficent disposition, — that it loved while it laughed. Whether he conversed 
 on theology or politics, or manners, or individual character, or recorded some 
 sad or pleasant experience of his own, the wise and genial humourist was 
 always -observable, softening, enlivening, enriching every thing he touched. 
 His practical discernment was so sure and keen, his knowledge of the world 
 was so extensive, and his perception of character and motives was so quick 
 and deep, that it was impossible to impose on him by any pretence or decep- 
 tion. With all his subtilty, however, in detecting the weaknesses of men, there 
 was nothing of the satirist in his disposition; and those who were the objects 
 of his shrewd but kindly humour, seemed to enjoy it as much as others. He 
 so softly let a man down from the stilts of his rhetoric, or pierced the bubbles 
 of his declamation with such smiling tact, that the person felt the mists of his 
 self-delusion scattered as by sunlight. 
 
 It was impossible to meet Dr. Parkman in the street, and stop a minute to 
 exchange words with him, without carrying away with you some phrase, or 
 turn of thought, so exquisite in its mingled sagacity and humour that it 
 touched the inmost sense of the ludicrous, and made the heart smile as well as 
 the lips. Indeed, in this respect,'he continually reminded me of some of the 
 greatest and most genial humourists in literature; — of Addison and Gold- 
 smith, of Lamb and Irving. In the commonest conversation, his mastery of 
 the felicities of humourous expression was quite a marvel. Without the 
 slightest hesitation, sentence after sentence would glide from his tongue, indi- 
 cating the most consummate command of the resources of language, and every 
 word moistened with the richest humour, and edged with the most refined 
 wit. His voice, in its sweet, mild unctuous smoothness, aided the effect of 
 his expression. His style in conversation, unlike his style in his writings, 
 evinced a creative mind. It was individual, original, teeming with felicities of 
 verbal combination, and flexible to the most delicate variations of his thought. 
 Though it owed no small portion of its charm to his inimitable manner, it still, 
 if literally reported, would have possessed sufficient vitality and richness to 
 indicate, better than any printed memorials of his powers, his real wealth of 
 thought, observation, experience and knowledge. 
 
 I have the honour to be, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very sincerely j'ours, 
 
 E. P. WHIPPLE. 
 
ANTHONY FORSTER. 
 
 ANTHONY FORSTER * 
 
 1813 — 1820. 
 
 457 
 
 Anthony Forster was bora in the County of Brunswick, N. C, Jan- 
 uary 11, 1785. His father, who was a respectable farmer, died when this 
 son was yet a child, consigning him to the guardianship of one of his 
 friends. He early evinced great inquisitiveness of mind, and a desire to 
 make himself thoroughly acquainted with every subject to which his atten- 
 tion was directed. At the age of twelve years he was sent by his guard- 
 ian to the Preparatory School of the University of North Carolina ; and, 
 after remaining there for some time, became a member of the University. 
 In the two departments of this Institution he spent five years — he did 
 not, however, graduate regularly, though it appears, from the Catalogue, 
 that the degree of Bachelor of Arts was conferred upon him in 1815. 
 During his collegiate course he had a high reputation as a scholar, and was 
 greatly esteemed for his generous and manly qualities. 
 
 On leaving College, he was induced, by the advice of his friends, to 
 commence the study of the Law ; but it proved incongenial with his tastes, 
 and he pursued it but a short time. His health, too, which was never 
 robust, began to suffer from a sedentary habit, and it was thought advi- 
 sable that he should try the effect of a more active course of life. Ac- 
 cordingly, he accepted an Ensign's commission in the army of the United 
 States, bearing date, March, 1804. He immediately joined a Body of 
 troops, stationed, at that time, on the Western frontier of Georgia, and, 
 while there, was promoted to a Lieutenancy. He held this position, with 
 high reputation, until October, 1806, when he retired from the service, 
 partly at least on account of dissatisfaction with some measures of his 
 commanding officer. After being employed, for some time, in the United 
 States' Factory, established at the post where he had been stationed, he 
 resumed his legal studies, under the direction of a practitioner at the Bar, 
 in Milledgeville, 6a. Having passed nearly two years in these different 
 occupations, he was attacked with symptoms of illness, and, in consequence 
 of a too profuse bleeding, was thrown into a violent nervous fever, which 
 placed his life in the most serious jeopardy. A family then residing in 
 Milledgeville, though until then strangers to him, took him to their own 
 home, and bestowed upon him every attention which could have been ex- 
 pected from near relatives. He lay utterly unconscious for three weeks ; 
 and, at one time, it was supposed, for half an hour, that life was extinct ; 
 but, while the preparations for putting on his grave-clothes were making, 
 it became evident that death had not yet done its work. He was, during 
 this time, fully aware of all that was passing, but was incapable of 
 uttering a word or moving a limb, and had every reason to expect that 
 he should be buried alive. 
 
 Though Mr. Forster never entirely recovered from the effects of this 
 illness, lie soon regained sufficient strength to be able to set out on a visit to 
 his friends in North Carolina, intending to proceed thence to Ballston 
 
 * Ware's American Unitarian Biography. — Communication from Rev. Dr. Gilman, &e. 
 
458 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Springs. On his way Northward, he stopped to visit a friend in King and 
 Queen County, Va., where he was confined, for some time, by an attack of 
 rheumatism, in consequence of which, instead of pursuing his journey, he 
 returned to North Carolina. About this time, his friend and former guard- 
 ian, General Benjamin Smith, having been elected Governor of the State, 
 gave him the offer of becoming his Private Secretary. He accepted the 
 office, and soon after removed to Raleigh, and entered on its duties. This 
 was in December, 1810. But it was for only a short period that he was 
 thus engaged. His mind now took a more decidedly religious turn than 
 ever before, and, after due deliberation, he resolved to devote himself to 
 the ministry of the Gospel. With a view to this, he resigned his place as 
 Secretary, and accepted the office of Assistant Teacher in the Raleigh 
 Academy, devoting whatever leisure he could command to the study of 
 Theology, under the Rev. Dr. McPheeters, Pastor of the Presbyterian 
 Church in Raleigh, and Principal of the Academy. 
 
 He was licensed to preach by the Orange Presbytery, in Raleigh, early 
 in 1813 ; and officiated for several months — rendering his services gratuit- 
 ously — as a Missionary in different parts of South Carolina and Georgia. 
 About the close of this year, he was invited by the Independent Church 
 at Wappetaw, S. C, to become their Pastor; and, at nearly the same 
 time, was married to Altona H., daughter of Joseph Gales, of Raleigh, 
 N. C. He accepted the call, and, shortly after, (January, 1814,) removed, 
 with his wife, to enter on the duties of his sacred charge. On arriving at 
 the contemplated scene of his future labours, he was so much disappointed 
 in the state of things that presented itself, that he felt constrained to an- 
 nounce to the people that he must revoke his acceptance of their call ; 
 though he consented to remain with them during the winter. He did 
 remain till June; and then, though they formally renewed their invitation 
 to him to settle permanently among them, he felt obliged to decline it. 
 
 During the summer of 1814 he supplied the First Presbyterian Church 
 in Charleston, its Pastor being absent on a tour to the Northern States. 
 Here his services were highly acceptable, and he formed many valuable 
 friendships which continued till the close of his life. When, his engage- 
 ment with this church had expired, he was invited to preach at the Inde- 
 pendent Church on John's Island. Here he remained during the greater 
 part of the winter; and, early in the spring of 1815, he was elected as 
 temporary Pastor of the Independent Church in Charleston,* in place of 
 the Rev. Dr. Hollingshead, Senior Pastor of that church, whose age and 
 infirmities had obliged him to discontinue his public labours. Here Mr. 
 Forster began his work with great acceptance ; and, though employed 
 merely as a temporary supply, he was invested with all the rights and 
 privileges of a stated Pastor. 
 
 In the autumn of this year he suffered a hemorrhage of the lungs, so pro- 
 fuse as to threaten immediate death. He, however, gradually recovered 
 from it. in a great degree, and, in the spring of 1816, resumed his minis- 
 terial labours ; though, in the judgment of many of his friends, he did it 
 prematurely. At the close of this year, the death of Dr. Hollingshead 
 
 * This Church, though incorporated as one Body, consisted of two branches, meeting in two 
 distinct places of worship, and served by two Associate or Colleague Pastors, who officiated in 
 the respective churches, alternately, morning and evening. 
 
ANTHONY FORSTER. 
 
 459 
 
 gave occasion to a series of measures which led to the separation of the 
 Associated Churches, and to the settlement of Mr. Forster over that branch 
 which took the name of the Second Independent Church. 
 
 Mr. Forster had been educated in the Calvinistic faith, and had held it 
 without any misgiving until he had been in the ministry for some time. 
 He had an intimate friend who was a Unitarian ; and, in examining the 
 Scriptures with a view to frame an argument by which to convince his 
 friend that he was in error, he began to find his own faith in the doctrine 
 of the Trinity weakened, and the result of his inquiries was that he adopted 
 the very system which he had set himself to expose. The views in which 
 he finally reposed are thus stated by his biographer : — 
 
 '' A full persuasiou of the strict and unqualified unity of God ; of the essential benig- 
 nity of his character; of his paternal and impartial benevolence toward all his offspring; 
 of the efficacy of sincere repentance to restore the sinner to his favour ; of the absolute 
 frceness of his unpurchased compassion towards erring man, and of the certainty of a 
 future, just and impartial retribution ; — these were the important conclusions to which 
 Mr. Former's inquiries conducted him. These he believed to comprise the substance 
 of that Revelation which God had made to man by his beloved Son. To that Son he 
 looked up with love, and gratitude, and veneration, but his worship he reserved for his 
 Father and our Father, for his God and our God." 
 
 The change in Mr. Forster's views of the doctrines of the Gospel was 
 accompanied by a corresponding change in his views of Church Government. 
 Accordingly, he resolved to withdraw from the Harmony Presbytery, of 
 which he was a member ; and, on the 29th of April, 1816, addressed a let- 
 ter to the Moderator of that Body, announcing his determination, and giv- 
 ing the reasons for it. 
 
 After Mr. Forster became doubtful in respect to the truth of the system 
 he had been accustomed to preach, his discourses took on a more general 
 character, and became proportionally less satisfactory to a considerable 
 number of his congregation. It was during this state of things that the 
 death of Dr. Hollingshead occurred ; and when the question of filling his 
 place came to be agitated, it turnetl out that, while a part of the congrega- 
 tion were strongly in favour of Mr. Forster, another part felt that they 
 could, by no means, be satisfied under his ministrations. The result was 
 that a separation between the two congregations was effected, an'd the 
 friends of Mr. Forster, to whom the Archdale Street Church was assigned, 
 proceeded at once to organize themselves as a Keligious Society, under the 
 name of the Second Independent Church of Charleston. The fundamental 
 principle of their organization was that the Scriptures are the only rule of 
 faith and practice, and that, in the interpretation of Scripture, every man 
 must *be governed by the dictates of his own reason and conscience. Mr. 
 Forster, in his Introductory Sermon, is said to have dwelt on this charac- 
 teristic feature of the new Church with much force and eloquence. 
 
 Shortly after this, the Yellow Fever, which, during this year, (1817,) so 
 fatally ravaged the city of Charleston, made its appearance. Mr. Forster, 
 by the urgent request of his people, embarked for Philadelphia, with a 
 view to escape the danger ; but his passage thither was every way a most 
 uncomfortable one, and when he arrived at the quarantine he was so feeble 
 as to be scarcely able to walk. Here he found himself in a miserable inn, 
 with hardly the common comforts of life about him ; but some benevolent 
 individuals in Philadelphia, to whom he was an entire stranger, hearing of 
 
460 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 his situation, applied to the proper authorities, and obtained permission for 
 his removal into the city. He gradually recovered the usual tone of his 
 health ; but, by the time he was able to travel, the season was so far 
 advanced that he thought it not proper to prolong his tour, and therefore' 
 returned to Charleston by land, reaching there early in December. He 
 supplied his pulpit uninterruptedly during the greater part of the winter ; 
 but, when spring returned, his health failed again, and in May (1818) he 
 set out on another tour to the North. He travelled the greater part of the 
 summer, and with much apparent benefit ; and when he returned, near the 
 close of the year, he resumed his labours with much alacrity. It, however, 
 very soon became apparent that the seeds of fatal disease were sown in his 
 constitution, and that the end of his public labours was at hand. He 
 preached for the last time, and administered the Lord's Supper, on the 7th 
 of March, 1819. The occasion was rendered deeply interesting, not only 
 by the uncommon pathos and eloquence that marked the discourse, but by 
 the appearance of the preacher, betokening almost beyond a peradventure, 
 that he was performing his last public service. From this time he was 
 able, for about two months, to ride out occasionally in the middle of the 
 day. In May following, with a view to try the effect once more of a 
 change of climate, he went with his family to Raleigh ; but he went never 
 to return. He made the journey not without great difficulty ; and, after 
 an almost insensible decline of nine months, he died, without a strug- 
 gle or a groan, on the morning of January 18, 1820, aged thirty-five 
 years. 
 
 From communications from the Rev. Dr. Gilman, who was Mr. Fors- 
 ter's successor in the pastorate, as well as from some other persons who 
 were acquainted with him, I have received the following impressions con- 
 cerning his character: — His mind was naturally quick and clear in its 
 operations, and, though remarkably independent in forming its judgments, 
 was singularly free from dogmatism. He had great transparency of char- 
 acter, and was always careful that neither his tongue nor his pen ever mis- 
 represented his honest convictions. He had a large amount of strong com- 
 mon sense, that stamped his general intercourse with society with great 
 decorum, and rendered him an excellent judge of human character. He had 
 great kindness and delicacy of feeling, both of which qualities were faithfully 
 represented in his manners. In his domestic and social relations, he was at 
 once eminently attractive and exemplary. As a Preacher, his thoughts 
 were clearly and forcibly expressed — in the earlier part of his ministry his 
 discourses were highly acceptable in all Orthodox churches — in the latter 
 part of it, they were equally acceptable to the congregation with which he 
 had then connected himself. 
 
DAVID DAMON. 461 
 
 DAVID DAMON, D. D* 
 
 1813 — 1843. 
 
 David Damon was a descendant, in the fifth generation, of Thomas 
 Damon, who came from the North of England, probably about 1650, and 
 settled in that part of Charlestown which is now Stoneham. He was the 
 eldest child of Aaron and Rachel (G-riflin) Damon, and was born at East 
 Sudbury (now Wayland,) Blass., on the 12th of September, 1787. His 
 father was a farmer in moderate circumstances, and barely able to support 
 his family ; so that the son was dependent for his education entirely upon 
 his own exertions. The first ten or twelve years of his life he spent at 
 home, attending the district school as soon as he was old enough; and, at 
 a little later period, assisting his father, as far as he was able, in his work 
 upon the farm. For a year or two, he lived with a physician, Dr. Ban- 
 croft, of Weston, and, by the services which he rendered in the family, and 
 some other services performed elsewhere, he acquired the means of support- 
 ing himself for a time at the Andover Phillips Academy, where he entered 
 in the spring of 1806. When these means were exhausted, he left the 
 Academy for a time, and taught a district school in Framingham, and 
 engaged in other employments, thus enabling himself to return to Audover 
 and complete his preparation for College. He entered at Harvard in 1807, 
 and, after maintaining an excellent rank as a scholar through his whole 
 course, graduated in 1811, having among his classmates Everett, Prothiug- 
 ham, Gilman, and others who have been eminent in their respective sta. 
 tious. He supported himself, during his college life, partly by performing 
 some services for his fellow-students, for which he received compensation, 
 partly by teaching a school, and partly by writing for a literary paper at 
 that time published in Boston. He early developed an uncommon talent 
 for writing, and it is believed that some of the productions of his pen had 
 been printed even before he entered College. 
 
 Having spent the year immediately succeeding his graduation at And- 
 over as Preceptor of Franklin Academy, he entered on a course of theo- 
 logical studies under- the direction of President Kirkland, the elder Pro- 
 fessor Ware and Professor Sidney Willard, — having for his fellow-students 
 six or eight of his classmates, besides a number who had graduated at an 
 earlier period. He was licensed to preach on the 22d of November, 1813, 
 by the Boston Association; and, on the Sabbath following, preached his first 
 sermon for the Rev. Charles Lowell, at the West Church, Boston. After 
 this, he supplied, for a longer or shorter time, at East Sudbury, West- 
 minster, Dedham, Gloucester, and Leominster, and finally at Lunenburg ; 
 and from the last mentioned congregation he received a call to become their 
 Pastor. This call he accepted, and, on the 1st of February, 1815, he was 
 ordained to the work of the ministry, and installed as Pastor of the Church 
 in Lunenburg, — the Rev. Dr. Ware preaching the sermon. 
 
 The Society over which Mr. Damon was placed had been gradually 
 
 •Christian Register, 1843. — MSS. from the Rev. Drs. Joseph Allen and Samuel K. 
 Lothrop, aift Mr. S. G. Damon. 
 
462 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 diminishing in numbers since the days of the venerable Zabdiel Adams,* 
 one of his predecessors ; and when Mr. D. became its Pastor, he found it 
 in a somewhat divided state in respect to religious opinions. As this was 
 just about the period when the controversy between the Unitarians and the 
 Orthodox in Massachusetts began to assume a palpable form, it was hardly 
 to be expected that any thing like unanimity of religious sentiment should 
 have been speedily brought about, or that his relations to his people should 
 not have been painfully modified by the existing state of things. He 
 remained at Lunenburg, much respected by the community at large, and 
 especially by his ministerial brethren in the neighbourhood, during a period 
 of nearly thirteen years. He was dismissed, at his own request, in Decem- 
 ber, 1827. The Sermon which he preached on taking leave of his people 
 was published. 
 
 Mr. Damon did not remain long without a pastoral charge. After 
 preaching for several months in Augusta, Me., he was invited to supply 
 the pulpit of the Congregational Society of Salisbury and Amesbury, 
 Mass., and, in due time, he received a call to become their Pastor. He 
 accepted the call, and was installed on the 25th of June, 1828. Here, after 
 about five years, he resigned his pastoral charge for reasons indicated in the 
 following letter addressed to his church and congregation, dated at Ames, 
 bury, December 4, 1832 : 
 
 "Christian Brethren and Friends: Having been informed by members 
 of the Society, who are undoubtedly well acquainted with its situation, 
 that a portion of the pecuniary aid promised to the Society, previous to my 
 settlement with you, is withheld, and that influence which it was then 
 expected would be exerted in favour of our Society, has been turned against 
 it, and that on these accounts the Society is unable to continue my sup- 
 port, I therefore respectfully ask a dissolution, &c. 
 
 " Your Pastor and affectionate brother in Christ, » 
 
 " David Damon." 
 
 The Council to whom the matter was referred gave their sanction to the 
 dissolution of the pastoral relation, but rendered the highest testimony to 
 the "wisdom, fortitude, and self-sacrifice 1 ' by which Mr. Damon's course, 
 under circumstances of great difficulty, had been marked. The exact date 
 of his dismission was May 14, 1833. . 
 
 During the summer of 1833, Mr. Damon preached at Easton, Mass., 
 and subsequently received an invitation to become the minister of that con- 
 gregation, which, however, he declined. In the succeeding autumn, he 
 removed his family to Reading, where he supplied the pulpit for an indefi- 
 nite period, receiving here another invitation to settle in the ministry, to 
 which also he returned a negative answer. At this period he preached with 
 acceptance in two or three of the Boston pulpits, whose Pastors were sick 
 or absent ; and in the winter of 1834-35, at Duxbury and West Cam- 
 
 * Zabdiel Adams was born in Quiney, Mass., November 5, 1739 (his mother, Ann Boyls- 
 ton, being the sister of the first President Adams) ; was graduated at Harvard College in 1759 ; 
 was ordained at Lunenburg September 5, 1764; and died March 1, 1801, aged sixty- two 
 years. He published an Answer to a pamphlet entitled "A Treatise on Church Government," 
 1773 ; a Sermon preached before a Masonic Lodge at Lancaster, 1778 ; the Massachusetts 
 Election Sermon, 1782 ; a Sermon preached at Lexington, on the Anniversary of the Com- 
 mencement of the "War, 1783 j two Sermons preached at Sterling, 1791; a Sermon preached 
 at Taunton at the Installation of the Rev. John Foster, 1792. 
 
DAVID DAMON. 463 
 
 bridge. In March, 1835, he was invited by the people of West Cambridge 
 to become their Pastor ; and, about the same time, had under considera- 
 tion similar invitations from Easton, and Meadville, Pa. He had never 
 preached at Meadville; but, on the recommendation of their New Eng- 
 land friends, the Society extended to him a cordial invitation to settle 
 among them. The call from West Cambridge, however, proved most 
 attractive to him, and he, accordingly, accepted it, and was installed there 
 on the 15th of April, — the Rev. Dr. Lowell preaching the Installation 
 Sermon. 
 
 In January, 1841, he preached the Annual Sermon before the Legisla- 
 ture of Massachusetts : and, in May following, delivered the Dudleian Lec- 
 ture in Harvard College. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred 
 upon him by his Alma Mater in 1843 ; but it had not been publicly 
 announced at the time of his death. 
 
 On the 14th of June, 1843, lie delivered an Address at the Consecration 
 of the new Cemetery in West Cambridge. He was requested to publish 
 it, and had intended to do so, but death prevented the fulfilment of his 
 purpose ; though it was afterwaVds published by his family. The Sabbath 
 immediately succeeding the delivery of this Address — the last Sabbath of 
 his life — he passed at Lunenburg, the scene of his first pastorate, and there 
 preached with great earnestness in the pulpit in which, twenty-eight years 
 before, he had received Ordination. After two or three clays delightfully 
 spent among his friends, he took leave of them, and returned to his home 
 in West Cambridge. On the Friday following, he went to Reading to 
 officiate at the Funeral of an intimate friend, the Hon. Edmund Parker, a 
 brother of the late Rev. Dr. Parker, of Portsmouth. His Sermon on this 
 occasion is said to have been marked by unusual ability, and the prayer to 
 have been one of great tenderness and fervour. In announcing the Hymn 
 to be sung by the choir at the close of the service, his utterance became 
 slightly impeded, and a numbness which had begun to creep over him while 
 he was preaching considerably increased. He sunk back upon the seat, 
 and beckoned to a physician who was sitting near the pulpit to come to 
 him. The physician obeyed the summons, and Dr. Damon, while the choir 
 were singing, conversed calmly with him, and expressed the opinion that 
 it was an attack of apoplexy from which he was suffering. At the close 
 of the singing, he was conveyed to the house from which the body 
 of Mr. Parker had just been brought, and there the physician bled him, 
 and administered some medicine; but he soon sunk into a state of uncon. 
 sciousness. In this state he continued until two o'clock Sabbath morning, 
 when, for a moment, he opened his eyes, apparently in a conscious state, 
 and looked upon those at his bedside, and then closed them — and was dead. 
 His body was conveyed to West Cambridge, where the Funeral services 
 were conducted by the Rev. Dr. Francis, and the Rev. Messrs. Daniel Aus- 
 tin, Samuel Ripley, and Caleb Stetson ; and he was laid in the new Ceme- 
 tery on the twelfth day after his Address at its Consecration. 
 
 Mr. Damon was married, on the 16th of October, 1815, to Rebekah, 
 daughter of John and Sarah (Norwood) Derby, of Lynnfield, with whom 
 he became acquainted while he was a student at Andover. They had 
 seven children, — four sons and three daughters. Mrs. Damon died at the 
 
464 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 house of one of her sons in Boston, May 21, 1852, in the sixty-fifth year 
 of her age. 
 
 The following is believed to be a nearly or entirely complete list of Mr. 
 Damon's publications : — A Sermon preached at Worcester not far from the 
 year 1820. Sketch of the Life and Character of the late Kev. Joseph 
 Mottey, of Lynnfield, published originally in the Christian Disciple, 1822. 
 A Sermon preached at Concord, at the Semi-annual Meeting of the Evan- 
 gelical Society in Massachusetts, 1823. A Sermon preached at Charlton, 
 Mass., at the Annual Meeting of the Auxiliary Bible Society in the County 
 of Worcester, 1826. A Sermon delivered at Lunenburg, at the Close of 
 his Ministry there, 1827. An Address on Temperance, delivered at Ames- 
 bury, 1829. A Sermon entitled " What is Truth ?" about 1830. A Ser- 
 mon entitled " The Common Faith of Christians," published in the Liberal 
 Preacher, 1830. A Sermon entitled " Means of Attaining Religion," 
 published for the Union Ministerial Association, 1832. A Sermon entitled 
 " Human Life a Tale," delivered at Amesbury. A Sermon entitled " The 
 Exceeding Sinfulness of Sin." A Sermon on Acts II, 22. An Address 
 delivered before the Ministerial Conference, in Berry Street, Boston, 1840. 
 A Sermon preached after the Death of Philip Augustus Whittemore, 1841. 
 A Sermon delivered before the Legislature of Massachusetts, at the An- 
 nual Election, 1841. An Address at the Consecration of the New Ceme- 
 tery at West Cambridge, 1843. He published also, in the newspapers of 
 the day, a Notice of the Rev. William Gray Swett, a Poem delivered at 
 West Cambridge, and various other minor productions of his pen. 
 
 The following extract from his Farewell Sermon, preached at 
 Lunenburg, contains the fullest account of his theological views that I have 
 been able to obtain : — 
 
 '"' I have insisted much upon the actual sinfulness of mankind, in every age of the 
 world, — not their innate and total, in which I do not believe, — but their acquired, 
 and very visible and lamentable moral depravity, as attested by experience, observa- 
 tion, history, and the word of God: upon the odious nature of sin in the sight of God, 
 its miserable consequences here, and its more miserable consequences hereafter, 
 to those who live and die impenitent. I have insisted much upon this doctrine of 
 human sinfulness, both as laying a broad foundation for God's merciful interposition 
 in our behalf by a Redeemer, and as adapted to bring individual sinners to repen- 
 tance. 
 
 " I have endeavoured to preach and proclaim the good news of future eternal salva- 
 tion from the miserable consequences of sin; and this salvation as originating in the free, 
 unpurchased and infinite grace of God. 
 
 " I have described this great salvation as dispensed to men by a Mediator, who is 
 Christ Jesus, the Messiah predicted by the prophets, the Son of God, to whom the 
 Father was pleased to give the Spirit without measure, and in whom, consequently, 
 all the fulness of Deity dwells bodily. Without adverting often or dwelling much upon 
 those questions concerning the nature of the Messiah, which seem to have ministered 
 to strife more frequently than to godly edifying, I have dwelt much and often upon 
 his official character, upon what tie is to us; and, in this point of view, I seem to 
 myself to understand, and revere and love Uim more, the more I contemplate Him 
 and his mission of benevolence and mercy in our world. In this his public and official 
 character I have regarded and preached Christ, as the one Mediator, interposed 
 between God and man, to be classed with no other being, as God's Ambassador to 
 men, and, as such, to be honoured by them, as the medium, the free and wide me- 
 dium, the instrument, the voluntary, honoured and successful instrument, of the Di- 
 vine communications of grace, mercy and peace to the rebellious and sinning race of 
 men ; as our Prophet to instruct, our Priest to make reconciliation, the spiritual Head 
 or King of his Church on earth, and the constituted Judge of the world at the last day. 
 The mercy, pardon and salvation, originating in the free grace of God, and offered to 
 men through his Sun, I have regarded and preached as offered with equal sincerity to 
 one as to another, impartially and alike to all, believing, with the Apostle Peter, that, 
 
DAVID DAMON. 465 
 
 ' of a truth, God is no respecter of persons.' I have also preached Christ as an ex- 
 ample and pattern to his followers, and, disregarding alarms and exclamations con- 
 cerning legal preaching, and legal preachers, and the dangers of leading men to vain 
 attempts to obtain salvation by works, I have supposed that I was truly preaching 
 Christ and his Gospel, whon I was endeavouring to enforce his precepts or to exhibit 
 his example. In describing the Character of the Messiah summarily, I have been 
 particularily habituated to speaking of Him as our only and all sufficient Saviour. I 
 have declared to you that the Saviour was crucified and slain by wicked men; that his 
 death was an important and necessary part of his mediatorial work ; that He was raised 
 from the dead by the power of God on the third day; that He ascended into Heaven, 
 and is seated on the right hand of God, where He ever liveth to make intercession for 
 us, and whence He will come again, in his own glory and the glory of his Father, to 
 raise the dead, judge the world, and recompense his followers. 
 
 £l The resurrection or our Lord has been much insisted upon, both as an incontes- 
 table fact, which is one of the principal evidences of the truth and Divine origin of our 
 holy religion, and as an earnest of the future resurrection of all men. The doctrine of 
 such future resurrection, and of a future retribution also, has been preached to you, 
 in which the future misery of the impenitent has been insisted upon as an object of 
 Christian faith, as well as the future happiness of the penitent. But I have not 
 attempted to describe either the happiness of the righteous or the misery of the wicked 
 in the future state with the minuteness of an eye-witness, or as one might describe 
 'them if he knew what they were by personal experience; but, persuaded that human 
 knowledge of this subject is restricted to what God has been pleased to reveal, I 
 have endeavoured to impress upon my own mind and the minds of others the truth 
 that every one will receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, 
 whether it be good or bad; and have endeavoured to allure men to have respect to a 
 future recompense of reward, by representing the joys of Heaven not as passive or in- 
 sipid, but as the active exercises of holy beings, whose energies of soul are employed 
 in sublime worship, benevolent offices, and the successful pursuit of boundless know- 
 ledge. 
 
 " It has been declared to you that the salvation proffered to you through the Saviour 
 is offered upon the conditions of faith and repentance; that these holy exercises of the 
 heart constitute spiritual life, or the new birth, and that their existence is to be inferred 
 by their fruits of Christian obedience. 
 
 ' ; The necessity of the influences of the Holy Spirit and power of God to produce 
 holy exercises in the heart of man has always been insisted upon; but you have, at 
 the same time, been warned to pray for such influences, and not to resist tliem or grieve 
 them away, to expect them through the instrumentality of conscience, providences, 
 and the word of God, and not in miraculous and irresistible effusions, and that you 
 ought to be active in working out your salvation, since it is God who worketh in you 
 to will and to do. as the husbandman is active and diligent in cultivating the ground, 
 although it is God who gives its increase. 
 
 ******* **** 
 
 " I have not preached the doctrine of a Trinity of Persons in the one true God, nor 
 any of the five points of the long and extensively popular Calvinistic system of The- 
 ology ; because I do not believe these doctrines to be any part of revealed truth, and 
 am persuaded that they have all of them a bad moral tendency, so far as they ope- 
 rate without influence or modification from other principles associated with them." 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL J. MAY. 
 
 Syracuse, November 6, 1862. 
 
 My dear Sir: I first knew David Damon while he was a resident graduate- 
 and student of Theology at Cambridge. I well remember hearing him read his 
 dissertations in the College Chapel, which were characterized by much more 
 than ordinary ability. When I went, in 1842, to take charge of the Normal 
 School in Lexington, he was Pastor of the Unitarian Church in West Cam 
 bridge, and I was thus brought into his immediate neighbourhood, and into, 
 more intimate relations with him from the circumstance of having one of his- 
 daughters among my pupils. I did not know him long after this, however, 
 for he died, I think, the next year, and it devolved on me to supply his 
 bereaved congregation on the Sabbath after his Funeral. 
 
 Mr. Damon's external appearance was not imposing or specially attractive. 
 His countenance, in a state of repose, was rather heavy, though it occasionally 
 lighted up into something approaching a glow. His person was by no. means. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 30 
 
466 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 gracefully formed, the tones of his voice were somewhat rigid, and his manners 
 would not suggest the idea of his having been used to polished society. But 
 rarely have I known a case in which so little of the mind and the heart came out 
 through the exterior. You might have supposed, on a casual interview with 
 him, that he was one of the obscurest farmers of his parish; but as you came 
 to penetrate into the interior of his character, you would find a mine of intel- 
 lectual and moral wealth that you had never dreamed of. His intellect was 
 naturally sound and well balanced, and had been cultivated by diligent and 
 diversified study. He wrote with great simplicity and clearness, and withal 
 with much logical accuracy. He contributed some articles, I remember, to 
 some of the early volumes of the Christian Examiner, which were highly 
 creditable to his intellect and his scholarship. I do not remember that I ever 
 heard him preach; but I am sure that the merit of his preaching must have 
 consisted rather in his matter than his manner; and his popularity must have 
 been greatest among the most reflecting portion of his audience; though I be- 
 lieve he was never otherwise than acceptable to the masses. He was a man 
 of most considerate kindness, and was ever on the alert to perform good , 
 offices towards any of his fellow men, whenever it was in his power. His 
 pecuniary means were far from being abundant, and yet his house and his 
 heart were always open in a generous hospitality. 
 
 He had an almost morbid conscientiousness — if he was in doubt as to any 
 matter of duty, he would carefully scrutinize every point having a bearing 
 upon it, and would sometimes betray, by his air and manner as well as b}' his 
 communications to his confidential friends, the utmost solicitude lest he should 
 be betrayed into an error. Some amusing anecdotes are told of him illustra- 
 tive of this peculiarity, which, however, all must acknowledge, are highly 
 honourable to his integrity. He was calm, patient and cheerful, even in the 
 darkest hour. He was not very widely known, nor would he probably have 
 been, with the extreme modesty that marked his character, if he had lived 
 till old age; but those who were so fortunate as to have penetrated the 
 somewhat unpromising exterior, looked upon him as a man of rare merit, and 
 far more worthy to live in the gratitude and reverence of posterity than many 
 whose names are found on a much more imposing record. 
 
 I never heard Mr. Damon express his views upon any of the great contro- 
 verted points of Theology, but some of his friends who were intimate with him 
 have the full conviction that he adopted the Arian view of the person of 
 Christ. His preaching, I am confident, was rarely, if ever, of a controversial 
 character. Yours respectfully, 
 
 SAMUEL J. MAY. 
 
 JOHN EMERY ABBOT * 
 
 1815—1819. 
 
 John Emery Abbot was a son of Benjamin Abbot, LL. D.,t who, 
 for more than half a century, was Principal of Phillips Academy, Exeter, 
 
 * Memoir by Rev. Henry Ware, Jr. 
 
 ■f Benjamin Abbot was a native of Andover, Mass. ; was graduated at Harvard College in 
 1788; and, immediately after, took charge of the Academy in Exeter, then recently founded 
 by the Hon. John Phillips. This position he held, with the highest reputation, until 1S3S; 
 and, on his resigning his office at that time, there was a gathering of his old pupils from all 
 quarters to present him with a testimonial of their regard. He spent the remainder of his 
 days at Exeter, living in dignified retirement, and died in the year 1819. He was honoured 
 with the degree of Doctor of Laws, from Dartmouth College, in 1811. 
 
JOHN EMERY ABBOT. 467 
 
 N. H. His mother, whom he is said to have greatly resembled, and who 
 lived but a few months after his birth, solemnly dedicated him to the care and 
 grace of God, in the prospect of her own departure ; and his knowledge of 
 this fact is said to have had much to do in giving a serious direction to his 
 earliest thoughts and feelings. His childhood, as well as his whole subse- 
 quent life, was marked by the most amiable and gentle spirit ; and, " while 
 a member of the Academy," says one of his schoolmates, " no one regarded 
 him as capable of doing wrong — we looked on him as a purer being than 
 others around him." 
 
 Having gone through his preparatory course, he became a member of 
 Bowdoin College, Brunswick, where he had an excellent reputation for 
 both scholarship and deportment, and was graduated, in 1810, at the early 
 age of seventeen. He had a great distrust of his own powers ; in illustra- 
 tion of which it may bo mentioned that he once told u. friend that so great, 
 at one period, was his despondency, that he would willingly have exchanged 
 all his future hopes and prospects for the certainty of living as a schoolmas- 
 ter in some remote village ; — the office of a clergyman, although, from his 
 earliest recollection, the object of his most ardent desires, appearing to 
 him a situation of too much dignity for him to aspire to. 
 
 Shortly after leaving College, he commenced his preparation for the min- 
 istry. He prosecuted his theological studies, partly at the University in 
 Cambridge, and partly under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Channing, in 
 Boston. He evinced the utmost reverence for the sacred office, and seems 
 to have attached much more importance to the moral than the intellectual 
 preparation for entering it. The following extracts from three of his let- 
 ters, the first written just before he began to preach, and the others imme- 
 diately after, may serve to illustrate his views of the profession to which he 
 was devoting himself: 
 
 '• How soon I shall be presented for approval, I know not exactly. As I draw nearer 
 the close of my course, I feel a greater importance to be thrown into the little time that 
 remains before its termination. And the more I reflect, the more solemn appears the 
 office of a Shepherd of the Christian flock. To enlighten the ignorant with truth, to 
 guide the wandering and the doubting, to give hope to the penitent and consolation to 
 the sorrowing, and to arouse the sleep of the sinner, is indeed a blessed, but a most 
 responsible office; and it seems the more solemn when we think that it is committed 
 to earthen vessels, who themselves are ignorant and wandering, surrounded with 
 temptations) darkened by error and polluted with sin. It is a most animating thought 
 that He who promised to his Apostles, ' Lo, I am ever with you,' forsakes not their 
 feeble successors." 
 
 In another letter he writes thus : — 
 
 '•' I am, as you may suppose, now in a state of feeling and views to which life has 
 never before called me. I look to the profession, which God has now permitted me to 
 assume, with a kind of solemn delight, when I think of the magnitude of its object, the 
 weakness of its instrument, and the promised aid from above. There is a thought 
 which often affects me when I remember that all my life, all the labours and opportu- 
 nities and powers I have received, are now to be devoted and consecrated to Him who 
 gave and has continued them. There is a sort of elevation which considerations like 
 this sometimes create, which, if I could bear with me to the world, I should be most 
 happy. The evil is, that feeling is often kindled and expires in the closet, and when 
 we go fort 1 1 to the world, we must act only from the cold principles which reason has 
 matured, and the habitual dispositions which time has freed from all enthusiasm. It 
 has always seemed to me a most wise provision with regard to our constitution, that 
 we gradually and imperceptibly become conformed to circumstances, and when called 
 to a new situation, the way is prepared for it by slow degrees. I expected a sort of 
 overpowering feeling, in first commencing the sacred duties, but when I first entered 
 the desk, I felt composed and calm." 
 
468 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 In another letter he writes as follows : — 
 
 " By these active duties I hope to acquire a habit of more energy, and to gain some- 
 thing of practical wisdom, and to become a better member of society, and minister of 
 
 the hopes and comforts of the Gospel to the poor and sorrowing. My dear , what 
 
 a holy and glorious profession has God permitted me to assume ! I feel that it is a 
 blessing (or which I can never be grateful enough. Its duties seem to be those of the 
 good spirits who are messengers of mercy and love to us; bearing consolation to the 
 afflicted, and hope to the desponding, and warning to the wanderer, and animation and 
 peace to the humble and penitent. I often feel ,that my earlier anticipations of the 
 happiness of the profession are indeed surpassed." 
 
 His first appearance in the pulpit excited great interest, though both his 
 sermons and his style of delivery were as far as possible from display. 
 There was a simplicity, a solemnity, an earnestness about him, that ren- 
 dered his ministrations deeply impressive. When the pulpit in the North 
 Church in Salem was vacated by the death of Dr. Barnard, Mr. Abbot was 
 immediately spoken of as a suitable person to succeed him : he was, accord- 
 ingly, employed as a candidate, received and accepted a call, and was 
 ordained, and installed as their minister, on the 20th of April, 1815. 
 
 Notwithstanding he was very young to undertake the labours incident to 
 so extensive a charge, he acquitted himself in a manner that gave entire 
 satisfaction to his people, and secured to him, in a high degree, their confi- 
 dence and affection. He made himself personally known, so far as possi- 
 ble, to every individual in his congregation, and became a sharer in the 
 joys and sorrows of each ; while he wrote his sermons with great care, and 
 delivered them in a fervent, impressive, but quiet manner. With a consti- 
 tution naturally fragile, it soon became apparent that his health was inade- 
 quate to the amount of labour which he had undertaken ; and, in the spring 
 of 1817, his friends began to discover, as they thought, some symptoms of 
 pulmonary disease. In October he made a short journey to the South, 
 from which he received injury rather than benefit; and, on his return, he 
 took a severe cold, which was attended with a violent cough and bleeding 
 at the lungs. On the day after he reached home, — the first Sabbath in 
 November, he preached to his people in the morning, and administered the 
 ordinance of the Lord's Supper ; — the last time, as it proved, that he ever 
 officiated in that service. From that time, the most painful apprehensions 
 were awakened concerning him ; nor did he hesitate to express to his 
 friends his own conviction that his recovery was hopeless. He was con- 
 fined to his room, and, for the most part, to his bed, during the winter; 
 but, as the spring opened, appearances seemed more favourable, and he 
 removed to Exeter, where he passed the succeeding summer with his 
 parents. The following extract from a letter written in July to an intimate 
 friend, shows that he was somewhat encouraged to hope that he might 
 again be permitted to return to his labours : — 
 
 " I think that I gain strength, and now cannot but rejoice in the hope, which for so 
 long a time I felt it necessary to check, as it rose, of being again permitted to minister 
 the Gospel to my beloved people. In this restoration, I see the direct agency of Him 
 who first breathed into me the breath of life; the skill of man and the powers of medi- 
 cine seemed all in vain; it was his air, the warmth of his sun, the bright and cheering 
 prospect of the earth which his goodness quickened and beautified, which thus far have 
 dispelled the damps of disease, and enkindled the feeble and dying flame within me. 
 I suppose that every person, when restored from sickness, flatters himself that the 
 feelings of piety, which deliverance awakens, will not decay. God grant that mine 
 may be as permanent and influential as they ought to be." 
 
JOHN EMERY ABBOT. 469 
 
 In another letter he refers thus to his feelings, on being permitted again 
 to attend public worship : — ■ 
 
 " I could not help my mind from wandering much away, and being filled with recol- 
 lections of the past years of my own life ; for I had not been present at the ordinance 
 since that distressful day when I last met our own church at the altar. I think there 
 is no time when the heart more expands towards all, present or distant, whom God 
 has made dear to it, than when commemorating that Greater Friend, whose love was 
 stronger than death." 
 
 On the approach of autumn, his symptoms became more unfavorable, 
 and it was deemed expedient that he should pass the winter in a milder 
 climate. He, accordingly, in the early part of November, in company 
 with an intimate friend, sailed for Havana ; but he had a rough anil 
 fatiguing voyage, and arrived there with less strength than he had on leav- 
 ing home. During the whole period of his residence on the island, he 
 experienced no relief, but was rather growing weaker — still he was greatly 
 interested in surrounding scenes and objects, and, during a part of the 
 time, kept a journal, which still remains, as a record of his minute and 
 intelligent observation. He formed an acquaintance with several friars of 
 distinction, and with one of them, — a man of superior rank and fortune, 
 he became quite intimate, and received from him many expressions of good 
 will and regard. After some time, in consequence of a sudden change in 
 the weather, he took a severe cold, which entirely prostrated him, and 
 seemed, likely to prove the harbinger of immediate death. As soon as he 
 had partially recovered from it, he embarked for Charleston, S. C. ; and, 
 on his arrival there, found himself considerably invigorated, and for a short 
 time was encouraged with the hope that his health might yet be restored. 
 But a few days put an end to this delusion. His disease was evidently 
 making constant progress, and neither medical skill, nor change of climate, 
 nor the watchful and affectionate solicitude of friends, eould prevent it. 
 When it was remarked to him that he was in low spirits, he replied, — 
 " No, not in low spirits, but sober. I think it very doubtful whether I 
 am ever any better, and it is time for me now to consider myself a pilgrim 
 and stranger on the earth." In.the midst of all his weakness, however, — 
 when he seemed scarcely adequate to the effort of taking care of himself, 
 he engaged in teaching the slave, who waited upon him, to read. 
 
 About the middle of April he embarked in a packet at Chaideston for 
 Philadelphia, where, on his arrival, he was met by his father and some 
 other friends, who had come to accompany him home. His strength was 
 far gone, and from that time he could speak only in u. whisper. " We will 
 rejoice together," said he, in a letter written to a friend about that time, 
 " that God has preserved us in the land of the living ; and I will be happy, 
 whatever may now await me, in the thought that my wanderings are done, 
 and I am again in my own home." He reached Exeter in June ; and 
 remained there in the enjoyment of the most affectionate attentions of 
 parents and friends, till his death, which occurred October 6, 1819. His 
 Funeral Sermon was preached at Salem by the Rev. Dr. Channing. 
 
 Several years after Mr. Abbot's death, there was published a volume of 
 his Sermons, together with a Memoir of his life, by the late Rev. Dr. 
 Henry Ware, Jr. The Sermons are characterized by classic purity of 
 Style, and great seriousness and fervour ; and, as they are all on general sub- 
 
470 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 jects, they furnish no index to the writer's peculiar views of Christian 
 doctrine. His biographer, however, writes thus concerning him : — 
 
 " He was a Unitarian upon principle and from inquiry. He believed the doctrine 
 of the single but unapproached supremacy of the Father to be a clear and most impor- 
 tant doctrine of Revealed Religion. He honoured Jesus as the Son and Messenger of God, 
 and believed that He had an existence before He entered our world. His preaching was 
 full of the language of gratitude and veneration towards Him. He delighted to dwell 
 on the delineation of his character and offices, and to hold up his excellence to love 
 and imitation. The blessings of his mediation and intercession were among his favour- 
 ite topics, and he was fond of attributing a peculiar and powerful, though undefined, 
 efficacy to bis sufferings and death." 
 
 FROM BENJAMIN ABBOT, LL. D. 
 
 Exeter, N . H., April 18, 1848. 
 
 My dear Sir: Your kind note, of the 10th inst., came duly to hand, and I 
 hasten to answer your interesting inquiries concerning my much loved and 
 lamented son, whom I hope soon to greet in a better world. But at a very 
 advanced age, — nearer ninety than eighty, — I find my memory in respect to 
 bygone events too much shattered to be trusted on paper, and for the fol- 
 lowing details I am indebted to my wife, who came into the family, when my 
 son was in his fifth year. 
 
 " His childhood was most peculiarly marked by a truthfulness and affec- 
 tionate dependence on those whom he loved, like the vine that clings to its 
 support. From my earliest knowledge of him, I do not recollect a time when 
 he caused me any anxiety. His amiable and confiding temper was always 
 manifested by perfect obedience. His modesty and humility grew with his 
 growth; and his after life was only a development of the germ within: the 
 spirit seemed to be there; for in his very early childhood he often affected the 
 preacher by collecting around him his young companions, and going through the 
 usual services of a clergyman with them; and I believe he never lost sight of the 
 sacred office, though it was always with a most sensitive and humble distrust 
 of himself. His college life was altogether exemplary; and he was greatly es- 
 teemed and beloved by the President, Dr. Appleton, in whose family he resided. 
 It is impossible to recall the tenor of his early life without deep feeling; and the 
 heart has a thousand emotions which the lips cannot utter. His two years 
 of suffering evidently manifested how deep was his sense of the value of 
 Christianity, and the closing month of his short pilgrimage was a living testi- 
 mony to his patient and humble trust in the mercy of God. After his return 
 from the South, being convinced of the ill effects of his voyage and his resi- 
 dence in a warm climate, I expressed to him my deep regret that he had left 
 his home; but his reply was that it was all right; it was God's will, and he 
 could cheerfully and trustingly acquiesce in it. His affectionate heart clung to 
 those whom he loved, to the last throb; and his confidence and submission 
 rose higher and higher as he drew nearer and nearer to the grave; and the last 
 words that fell from his lips were < Lord Jesus.' " 
 
 In addition to the above from my wife, I have obtained the following rem- 
 iniscences from a very amiable and intelligent lady, who, as a member of my 
 family, was intimately associated with my son, and familiar with the early 
 movements of his mind, and continued to know him well to the close of his life. 
 
 " Although nearly a generation has passed away since he fell asleep, some 
 recollections of him remain of so prominent a character that time cannot 
 wear them out. When he preached, I was at the age when we love and admire 
 without knowing why, and could not fully appreciate the privilege I enjoyed 
 in hearing him. Yet one incident I remember as if it were yesterday. In one 
 of his sermons he was speaking of our excessive worldliness, and of the pre- 
 vailing disposition to render undue honour to man, when he suddenly clasped 
 
JOHN EMEEY ABBOT. 471 
 
 his hands together, looked upward, and uttered, as from the depths of his 
 soul, the words, — "But who, Lord, regardeth thee?" The effect on one 
 hearer at least was perfectly electric. 
 
 Several years before his settlement, some one was discussing with him the 
 question whether we shall know each other in a future world, and whether 
 the blest are acquainted with the situation of those they loved on earth; and 
 he promptly declared his belief in both. But it was asked whether it would 
 not impair their happiness to witness the unworthy conduct of those with 
 whom they were united here. He replied that he thought all merely human 
 ties would drop from us like worn out garments, and that only the ties of 
 sanctified affection would remain forever. 
 
 " His enjoyment of literature was very great, and his taste of an uncom- 
 monly elevated and discriminating character. He had no great fondness for the 
 then popular poetry, but his early friends never can forget with what exqui- 
 site delight he read and repeated " Chamouny," — those strains of impas- 
 sioned devotion meeting with a, full response within him. His mind sought out 
 the spiritual element both in prose and poetry, as instinctively as the roots 
 and branches of a tree seek to draw near to the living waters. Thus a sky 
 prospect was his great delight; and he would sit gazing upon it, as if seeking 
 out his future home, apparently indifferent to the terrestrial features of the 
 landscape. Yet his loving seriousness would not seldom give way to hearty 
 laughter at quiet humour and genuine wit; for wit ceased to be genuine to him 
 when cutting sarcasm or a worse alloy mingled with it. 
 
 "Though easily influenced b}' dear friends in little things, he always gave 
 his opinion firmly. When one whom he loved and venerated spoke of dancing 
 parties to him with approbation, he said he thought the act of dancing to music 
 perfectly harmless in itself; but the long and excessive preparations, the late 
 hours, unfitting the dancers for daily duties, — these he thought constituted a 
 real objection to it: he could not believe it right to spend so much strength, 
 time and money upon a pleasure which attached too much importance to 
 external things. 
 
 « He seemed to have a sort of talisman to attract the affection of others, 
 and it may be fitly mentioned here that he had the happiness of proving Gray's 
 maxim untrue, that no man can have but one mother. The one who gave him 
 to God as soon as she received him, whose presence made her home a sanctu- 
 ary, was happy in the most congenial marriage but two years. Five years 
 afterwards, her place was supplied by one whom that fine instinct, above hinted 
 at, taught him to regard as the mother of his spirit, as he clung to her with 
 all his loving heart. She loved him-with the love usually given to the first 
 born, and received him as a gift from Heaven. An old and valued domestic, 
 living in the family, told me that Mrs. Abbot mourned herself sick on the day 
 John went to College. Her children were greeted by him with delight; and 
 one of them probably never shed tears of more passionate sorrow than when 
 he accidently learned that John was not his own brother. His sister also 
 regarded him with the most affectionate veneration. Thus he lived on, loving 
 and beloved, till it appeared the Master was calling for him, and all that friend- 
 ship could do was to " slope the path that leads to death." One mightier, 
 dearer than all earthly friends, had trodden that path before him; and, as 
 the hour of departure drew near, that Friend revealed Himself more fully to 
 his soul, and he declared, near the close of life, that the more he reflected 
 upon Christ, the more exalted his character appeared to him, and the words, — 
 " Blessed Lord Jesus," were the last he ever uttered." 
 
 If, m)' dear Sir, you can extract from the above any thing in aid of your 
 object, in which of course I feel all the interest of a father, it will much gratify 
 Your sincere friend and humble servant, B. ABBOT. 
 
472 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ANDREW P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Portsmouth, N. H., February 24 1848. 
 My dear Sir: My knowledge of John Emery Abbot is too limited to be of 
 any use to you; but I have no hesitation in saying that, morally at least, he 
 is to be reckoned among the lights of his denomination. I doubt whether 
 there has been <i minister within my knowledge, who has left so vivid and 
 durable a portraiture of his moral self upon the hearts of his people as he did. 
 His parishioners, who were old enough to know him, speak of him to this day 
 with hardly less emotion than if he had died yesterday. The Hon. Leverett 
 Saltonstall always visited his grave on the anniversary of his Funeral; and, 
 during his last sickness, as he lay for weeks in full consciousness of his ap- 
 proaching dissolution, he was perpetually talking of his early friend and 
 Pastor, and his face would always assume a peculiar glow when he spoke of 
 reunion with him in Heaven. And this is only a specimen of the peculiar in- 
 timacy of feeling which those who knew him, and had any religious sym- 
 pathy with him, still cherish for and with him. My only remembrance of 
 him is his performing the service of Baptism in his uncle's church in Beverly. 
 His countenance and manner in that service are as vividly before my mind's 
 eye, as if it were but yesterday. I was a very young child; and somehow the 
 scene attached itself, in my young imagination, to the blessing of the little 
 children by our Saviour; and to this day I never read or think of that narra- 
 tive, without that baptismal scene coming up afresh to my mind. Every body 
 that ever saw him, will give you some such reminiscence of him; and I am 
 inclined to think that it has been given to very few men to bear about, in 
 countenance and manner, so much that was unearthly and morally beautiful 
 as he did. In haste, sincerely and affectionately yours, 
 
 A. P. PEABODY. 
 
 HENRY WARE, Jr., D. D * 
 
 1815—1843. 
 
 Henry Ware, Jr., was born at Hingliam, Mass., April 21, 1794. He 
 was a descendant, in the fifth generatiob, of Robert Ware, who came over 
 from England among the earlier settlers of the Colony, and fixed himself 
 at Dedham, about the year 1644. His father was the Rev. Dr. Henry 
 Ware, who was, for many years, Pastor of the First Church in Hingham, 
 and afterwards became Hollis Professor of Divinity in Harvard College. 
 His mother was Mary, daughter of the Rev. Jonas Clark, of Lexington. 
 Henry was the fifth child and the oldest son of his parents. As a boy, 
 he was thoughtful and quiet, and somewhat lacking in bodily activity. He 
 was docile in his temper and diligent in his studies, but was far from any 
 thing like intellectual precocity. As has frequently happened, he very 
 early indicated a predilection for the profession which he afterwards chose. 
 While he was yet a mere child, he preached a sermon of his own composi- 
 tion from a cradle turned on end as a pulpit; and from that time till he 
 appeared in a veritable pulpit, it is believed that he never wavered in the 
 
 * Memoir by his Brother, Dr. John Ware. 
 
HENRY WARE, JUNIOR. 473 
 
 purpose to devote himself to the ministry. In harmony with this purpose, 
 and as if preparatory to the execution of it, he formed a very early habit 
 of composition ; and some of his childish productions still remain as evi- 
 dence of the serious turn of his mind, and his unusual facility of expression. 
 
 He had the rudiments of his education partly at home, and partly in the 
 private and public schools of his native town. In 1804 and 1805 he spent 
 considerable time in the family, and under the tuition, of the Rev. Dr. 
 Allyn, of Duxbury. Here, it is believed, he commenced his preparation 
 for College ; but, in the autumn of 1805, he was placed under the tuition 
 of his cousin, Mr. Ashur Ware, a graduate of the preceding year, who 
 became, at the same time, a member of his father's family. He remained 
 under his care till the spring of 1807, when, on the election of Mr. Ware 
 to a Tutorship, Mr. Samuel Merrill, of the class of 1807, took his place. 
 In September of the same year he was sent to Phillips Academy, And- 
 over, of which Mr. Mark Newman was then Preceptor ; and here he con- 
 tinued till his admission as a member of the Freshman Class in Harvard 
 College, in September, 1808. 
 
 The four years of his college life were passed in his father's family, and 
 his intercourse, even with his fellow-students, beyond what was absolutely 
 necessary, was very limited. He was scrupulously attentive to his various 
 college duties, but was not a hard student, and held not much more than a 
 respectable standing in his class. At the Commencement in 1812, when 
 he graduated, he delivered a Poem on the Pursuit of Fame, which drew 
 forth strong expressions of applause. In the winter of his Junior year, 
 he taught a school for several months in Beverly, where he was brought in 
 contact with persons of different religious views from those held by the 
 friends with whom he had always been associated. The consequence was 
 that his mind became somewhat disturbed, which led to a correspondence 
 between him and his father, that seems to have resulted in the removal of 
 his difficulties. 
 
 Immediately after leaving College, in August, 1812, he became Assist, 
 ant Teacher in Phillips Academy, Exeter, of which Dr. Benjamin Abbot 
 was then Principal. Here he remained, discharging his duties as a teacher 
 with great fidelity and success for two years. Meanwhile, he devoted 
 much of his leisure to the study of' Theology; and, during the latter part 
 of the time, he conducted the public exercises of an infant Unitarian Soci- 
 ety in Exeter, by performing the devotional service and reading a printed 
 sermon. This he did much to the satisfaction of the people to whom he 
 thus, ministered. 
 
 In August, 1814, he left Exeter, and returned to Cambridge to complete 
 his theological studies as a resident graduate at the University. He 
 accepted now the place of Sub-Librarian of the College, and held it for one 
 year. In connection with his strictly professional studies, he indulged his 
 taste, to a considerable extent, for general reading, and occasionally wrote 
 poetry. In the winter of 1815 he delivered a Poem at a Public Celebra- 
 tion, in Cambridge, of the Treaty of Peace concluded with Great Britain, 
 and in August, 1816, the Annual Poem before the Phi Beta Kappa Soci- 
 ety. Both these performances were received with much more than ordi- 
 nary favour. 
 
474 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 He received his certificate of approbation as a Preacher on the 31st of 
 July, 1815. A few months before he began to preach, he committed to 
 writing several paragraphs of birthday reflections, exhibiting a deeply seri- 
 ous spirit, and concluding as follows : — 
 
 " I pray that I may be prepared for any event, and equally glorify God in my life or 
 in my death. If God please, I would that my days might be prolonged; for I ear- 
 nestly desire to be better prepared, and to be the instrument of some good in the world 
 before I leave it. I wish I might not merely pass over a few years of time, and leave 
 no trace of good; but I would do something for the cause of virtue and the happiness 
 of man; so that, when I shall be called to another state, I may meet some who shull 
 greet me with love and gratitude, and shall receive the approbation of my Saviour and 
 my God. 
 
 " But. Great God, thy will be done. I am in thy hands; may I acquiesce in thine 
 appointments. Whatever time thou shalt allot me, may I well improve it, and culti- 
 vate the powers thou hast given me. May I ever fix my eye upon thee, and upon 
 duty, and, through thy grace in Jesus Christ my Lord, become such as thou wilt 
 delight to own and to bless. Oh, forgive my past follies; help me in time to come; 
 delight to bless me; and finally grant me to see thy presence and glory in peace, 
 through Jesus Christ, the Son of thy love, the Saviour of men." 
 
 Mr. Ware's first appearance in the pulpit was on the 8th of October, 
 more than two months from the date of his examination ; and then he 
 preached at West Cambridge, in the pulpit of the Rev. Dr. Thaddeus 
 Fiske, a classmate, friend, and brother-in-law of his father. In February 
 following he was employed four Sabbaths at the Second Church in Boston, 
 then vacant by the death of the Rev. Dr. Lathrop ; in April, four at Lex- 
 ington ; in Ma}', four at the Church in Brattle Square, Boston ; and in 
 September, three at Charlestown. His first efforts in the pulpit, though not 
 otherwise than acceptable, did not produce any very strong impression. 
 This accounts for the fact that a long interval elapsed between his first and 
 second engagements to preach in the church of which he afterwards became 
 the Pastor. As already mentioned, he preached in the Second Church in 
 Boston as early as February, 1816 ; but he was not invited the second time 
 till the following October. An invitation was given him to become the 
 Pastor of the Church in November, but it was not unanimous, though the 
 opposition was not so serious as to prevent his accepting it. He did accept 
 it, and was ordained and installed on the first day of the year 1817, — the 
 Ordination Sermon being preached by his father. The congregation of 
 which he became Pastor was, at this time, the smallest in point of num. 
 bers, and probably the least opulent, of the Unitarian congregations in 
 Boston — he seems, however, to have been well satisfied with it, and to have 
 found his situation, in many respects, a desirable and happy one. 
 
 In October, 1817, Mr. Ware was married to Elizabeth Watson, daugh- 
 ter of Dr. Benjamin Waterhouse, of Cambridge, — a lady with whom, he 
 had been intimately acquainted from childhood, and for whom he had, for 
 many years, entertained a warm regard. 
 
 In December, 1818, he travelled South as far as Washington, partly 
 with a view of improving his health, and partly for the purpose of preach- 
 ing for a new Unitarian Society, which had been recently established in 
 Baltimore. On his way thither, he preached one Sabbath in New York, 
 where, however, there was then no regularly organized Society, and once in 
 Philadelphia. In Baltimore he remained three weeks. 
 
 In March, 1819, commenced the second series of the Christian Disciple, 
 — a work which had been in existence several years, under the editorial 
 
HENRY WARE, JUNIOR. 475 
 
 supervision of Dr. Noah Worcester, but which now became more distinct- 
 ively the organ of the Unitarian Body. Of this work Mr. Ware became 
 the editor, and held the place till the close of 1822. 
 
 In the autumn of 1819 a small Unitarian Society was incorporated in 
 New York,: aud, in the spring of 1820, Mr. Ware laid the corner stone of 
 their new church edifice. On the evening of the next day, he attended 
 Dr. McLeod's church, and heard from him a sermon on the Three Heav- 
 enly Witnesses — 1 John, V. 7. As Mr. Ware regarded the Discourse an 
 attack upon the new Unitarian enterprise, he addressed Two Letters to 
 Dr. McLeod through the press, in the course of the following week, 
 designed to prove that the text of his discourse was not a genuine portion 
 of the word of God. These Letters he sent to the Doctor with a note, 
 to which he received a courteous but very honest and decided reply. 
 
 On the separation of the District of Maine, as it was formerly called, 
 from the old Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and its erection into a dis- 
 tinct State, in 1820, a Convention was called for the purpose of consider- 
 ing whether, in consequence of this event, any amendment of the Constitu- 
 tion was necessary. Mr. Ware was chosen a delegate to the Convention 
 from the town of Boston ; but, though he attended punctually, he was little 
 more than a listener to the debates. 
 
 In November, 1822, Mr. Ware projected a series of religious services 
 on Sunday evenings for the special benefit of the poorer classes. The plan 
 was carried into effect, with the co-operation of several other of the minis- 
 ters of Boston, and by the assistance of the Association (then recently 
 formed) for Mutual Religious Improvement. This arrangement, how- 
 ever, was ultimately superseded by the establishment of the Ministry at 
 Large, under the immediate direction of Dr. Tuckerman. Mr. Ware's 
 personal connection with this Ministry did not extend beyond the spring of 
 1828 ; though his interest in it continued, without any abatement, till the 
 close of his life. 
 
 In March, 1823, Mr. Ware suffered a severe affliction in the death of 
 his youngest child. But a still heavier trial awaited him. His wife, 
 whose health was, at that time, delicate, was soon found to be in a decline, 
 and, in spite of all that medical skill could do, she went rapidly down to 
 the grave. She died on the 8th of February, 1824, at the age of thirty, 
 leaving him in charge of two children, at an age peculiarly requiring a 
 mother's care. One had already died in infancy. 
 
 In 1826 a new Unitarian Society was formed in New York, and, shortly 
 after the Dedication of the new Church edifice, Blr. Ware received an invi- 
 tation to become its Pastor. But, though there were many circumstances 
 that seemed to favour his making the proposed change, he was satisfied, 
 after mature deliberation, that he had better remain with his charge in 
 Boston — and so he declined the call. 
 
 In June, 1827, he was married to Mary Lovell, daughter of Mark Pick- 
 ard, formerly a merchant in Boston; whereupon he gathered his children, 
 who had been living in the families of his sisters, once more around his own 
 hearth. 
 
 About the close of May, 1828, Mr. Ware left home in order to fulfil an 
 engagement to preach at Northampton. In consequence of excessive 
 
476 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 fatigue and exposure, he was quite ill on his arrival there, but still per- 
 formed the usual services on the Sabbath. The next day, he set out to 
 return to Boston, but when he reached the manufacturing village of Ware, 
 found himself so seriously indisposed that he was obliged to give up the 
 idea of proceeding on his journey. Among other dangerous symptoms 
 attending his case was a pretty copious hemorrhage of the lungs. After 
 about a fortnight, he was able, not without considerable difficulty, to be 
 taken to Worcester, where he remained in a gradually convalescent state 
 for six weeks. About this time, a plan for establishing a Professorship of 
 Pulpit Eloquence and the Pastoral Care, in the Divinity School at Cam- 
 bridge, was carried into effect. The friends of the enterprise had their 
 thoughts directed to Mr. Ware as a suitable person to fill this place; and 
 the precarious state of his health seemed to render it desirable that he 
 should be relieved from the exhausting labours demanded by a pastoral 
 charge. Indeed, he himself became satisfied, irrespective of the proposed 
 appointment, that he had too little vigour of constitution left, to meet the 
 active duties of the ministry ; and, accordingly, about the close of Decem- 
 ber, 1828, he addressed a letter to the members of his church and congre- 
 gation, tendering the resignation of his pastoral charge. They refused, 
 however, to accept it, and, in a manner highly creditable to their generous 
 consideration, proposed that he should still retain the pastoral relation, and 
 that they would provide him a colleague, on whom should devolve the bur- 
 den of active pastoral duty. He responded affirmatively and most affec- 
 tionately to their generous proposal ; and, accordingly, on the 11th of 
 January, 1829, Mr. Ealph Waldo Emerson, who had, for some time, sup- 
 plied their pulpit with much acceptance, was elected Colleague Pastor, and, 
 on the 11th of March following, was ordained. 
 
 By this time the appointment of Mr. Ware to the Professorship at Cam- 
 bridge had been formally made and accepted ; but so much was he reduced 
 in health that, before attempting to enter upon its duties, he resolved to 
 try the effect of a transatlantic tour. Accordingly he sailed with his 
 wife, in the Ship Dover, on the 1st of April, and remained abroad nearly 
 seventeen months, returning in the latter part of August, 1830. During 
 his absence, he visited England, Holland, Italy, Switzerland and France, 
 spending the winter in Rome. Though he saw much to gratify his curi- 
 osity, and made many acquaintances in which he was deeply interested, he 
 did not experience the invigorating effect upon his health which he had 
 expected, until about the time that he reached home. Then commenced a 
 decided improvement, which encouraged the hope that his health would at 
 least be so far restored as to render him competent to the labours of his 
 new office. 
 
 Shortly after his return, Mr. Ware renewedhis request for a dismission 
 from his parish, and his reasons for it were so strong that they could not 
 be resisted ; though the separation did not take place without mutual regret, 
 and the strongest mutual expressions of good-will. In October, a few weeks 
 after his return to this country, he removed to Cambridge, and entered 
 upon the duties of his Professorship. 
 
 Mr. Ware was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, from his 
 Alma Mater, in 1834. 
 
HENRY WARE, JUNIOR. 477 
 
 - Notwithstanding he entered on his Professorship with greatly improvod 
 prospects in respect to health, he was subject to frequent and sometimes 
 protracted interruptions of his labours from severe illness. Early in the 
 year 1836 he was attacked by a violent disease, from which he had a 
 strong presentiment that he should not recover. During this period of 
 confinement, apparently as the direct consequence of reading a newspaper 
 in bed, while his wife was out of the room, he began to suffer from a pain- 
 ful affection of the eyes, which obliged him to depend entirely on others 
 for reading and writing. He, accordingly, dictated to his wife, or wrote 
 with a pencil in bed with his eyes closed, and in this way produced several 
 beautiful pieces of poetry. This affection of the eyes continued for more 
 than a year, during which period all his preparations, in the way of read- 
 ing and writing, were made by the assistance of others, and his exercises 
 in the Divinity School and his preaching, so far at least as the language 
 was concerned, were extemporaneous. He had, for several years, been 
 cultivating the habit of extemporaneous speaking, in accordance with his 
 own invaluable " Hints " on this subject, published as early as 1824 ; and 
 now he experienced the benefit of this habit in a very high degree. His 
 eyes never regained their former strength, though they were so far restored 
 that he was able to use them without serious inconvenience. 
 
 In the autumn of 1841 Dr. Ware's herilth became so essentially impaired 
 that it was with no small difficulty that he could proceed with his ordinary 
 duties. Notwithstanding this, however, he projected a journey to New 
 York, with an intention also of going to Baltimore and Washington. He 
 arrived in New York on the 13th of January, and preached in Dr. Dewey's 
 Church twice on the following Sabbath. On the next Sabbath (January 
 23d) lie entered the pulpit for the last time. After the second singing, he 
 was obliged to tell the audience that he was too much indisposed to pro- 
 ceed with the service, and immediately dismissed the congregation. He 
 was able to return to Cambridge in the course of the next week; but, as 
 he found himself entirely inadequate to the duties of his office, and felt 
 the importance of being relieved from all responsibility in respect to it, he 
 lost no time in sending in his resignation to the President. In accepting 
 it, the Government of the College, as an expression of their good-will and 
 high appreciation of his services, voted the continuance of his salary for 
 half a year from the time that he vacated his office. 
 
 The annual visitation of the Divinity School, which occurs at the close 
 of the academic year, took place on the 15th of July; and, immediately 
 after this, he removed his family to Framingham, — a beautiful town about 
 twenty miles from Boston, agreeably to an arrangement which he had pre- 
 viously made. His residence here was, on many accounts, very agreeable, 
 though he found himself burdened with leisure, and, even in his great 
 feebleness, his active mind was teeming with plans of occupation. About 
 the close of March, 1843, he went to Boston on a visit, chiefly on account 
 of the better opportunities which the city presented at that season for out- 
 door exercise. For a few days after his arrival he seemed cheerful, con- 
 versed with interest and animation, and called upon several of his friends ; 
 though it was apparent to all that he was under the power of a wasting 
 malady. On the 10th of April he suffered an attack nearly allied to 
 
478 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 apoplexy, from which, however, he quicEly rallied; and, on the 6th of 
 May, he was seized with an inflammatory abdominal affection, accompanied 
 by hemorrhage, and followed by great prostration. By these two attacks 
 he was confined for the greater part of ten weeks, and was not able to leave 
 Boston until the 5th of June. He subsequently made a journey to Ply- 
 mouth, Fall River and Providence, but was too ill to enjoy any thing, and 
 returned to Framingham after about a week's absence. After this, he 
 seemed temporarily better, and was projecting his plans for future occupa- 
 tion and usefulness, when an unfavourable change in his condition suddenly 
 took place, which both he and his friends recognized as the harbinger of 
 his departure. At one time, when he had been supposed to be in a state 
 approaching unconsciousness, he remarked, — " My mind is crowded with 
 thoughts, precious thoughts of death and immortality." To a near friend, 
 a few days before his death, he said, — '■ My life has been singularly blessed. 
 My success has been beyond my brightest hopes. But my work is done. 
 I am going. All is right. All is well." At one time, when his mind was 
 verging towards delirium, he -seemed to fancy himself to be about to ad- 
 minister the Communion, and called all his family about him, and spoke to 
 them in words like those with which he was accustomed to address his own 
 flock on such an occasion. On the 21st of September he seemed some- 
 what revived, and evidently noticed with interest what was passing around 
 him. But as his wife was sitting by his side, she observed a spasmodic 
 movement of his hand, followed by a slight convulsion of his body — and 
 instantly he was insensible. His eyes closed, a profuse perspiration 
 covered him, his breathing soon became somewhat laborious, but afterwards 
 quiet and easy, and, at half past six on the morning of the 22d, his con- 
 nection with all earthly scenes closed. 
 
 His body was removed from Framingham to Cambridge, and the Funeral 
 took place on the 25th, at the College Chapel, — the services being per- 
 formed by the Rev. Br. Parkman, his former associate in the ministry, 
 and the Fiev. Brs. Francis and Noyes, the Professors in the Bivinity School. 
 The choir of the Chapel chanted the twenty-third Psalm, which he had asked 
 to have read to him a few days before his death, and which was the last 
 passage of Scripture to which he listened. His remains were followed to 
 Mount Auburn, and deposited in a sepulchre which had been presented to 
 him by his friend, Professor Farrar, of which he was the first tenant. 
 
 Br. Ware had six children by his second marriage, making nine in all. 
 Three of his sons have graduated at Harvard College, and one of them 
 {John Fothergill Waterhouse) is a Unitarian clergyman. The second 
 Mrs. Ware died in April, 1849. 
 
 The following is a list of Br. Ware's publications : — 
 
 A Poem on occasion of the Peace, 1815. A Sermon on the Beath of 
 the Rev. Thomas Prentiss, 1817. A Sermon before the Evangelical Mis- 
 sionary Society in Massachusetts, 1820. Two Letters to the Rev. Br. Mc- 
 Leod on 1 John, v. 7, 1820. Two Historical Biscourses on Completing a 
 Century, 1821. Three Important Questions answered, 1822. A Sermon 
 preached at Amherst, N. H, 1822. An Address before the Massachusetts 
 Society for the Suppression of Intemperance, 1823. Report of the Massa- 
 chusetts Bible Society, 1823. Hints oo Extemporaneous Preaching, 1824, 
 
HENRY WARE, JUNIOR. 479 
 
 Recollections of Jothain Anderson, 1824. Tho Vision of Liberty ; A Poem 
 recited before tbe Society of $. B. K., 1824. A Sermon at the Ordina- 
 tion of W. II. Furness, Philadelphia, 1825. Eobert Fowle, 1825. Ser- 
 mons on the Offices and Character of Jesus Christ, 1825. The Faith once 
 delivered to the Saints: A Tract for the Unitarian Association, 1825. A 
 Sermon at tho Dedication of the Unitarian Church, Northampton, 1825. 
 A Sermon on Small Sins, 1827. A Sermon on the Duty of Usefulness, in 
 the Liberal Preacher, 1828. Reply to a Gentleman's Letter, 1828. Ad- 
 dress before the Kennebunk Unitarian Association, 1828. A Farewell 
 Address to the Second Church in Boston, 1830. An Introductory Ad- 
 dress, delivered at Cambridge. 1830. A Sermon, in Beard's Family Ser- 
 mons, on Religious Principles and Affections, 1830. The Formation of 
 Christian Character, 1831. A Sermon on the Duty of Improvement, in 
 the Liberal Preacher, 1831. An Introduction to the Memoirs of Oberlin, 
 1832. An Address before the Cambridge Temperance Society, 1S32. An 
 Outline of Scripture Testimony of the Doctrine of the Trinity, 1832. Life 
 of the Saviour, 1833. A Sermon at the Ordination of Mr. Chandler Rob- 
 bins, 1833. Preface to Mrs. Farrar's Life of Howard, 1833. A Sermon 
 on the Promise of Universal Peace, 1834. Life and Character of Dr. 
 Priestley, 1834. A Sermon on Faith, in the Western Messenger, 1834. 
 Memoir of Nathan Parker, D. D., 1835. Sober Thoughts on the State of 
 the Times, 1835. Annual Address delivered before the Berry Street Con- 
 ference, published in the Christian Examiner, 1835. A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of C. A. Bartol, 1837. The Feast of Tabernacles, 1837. 
 Two Discourses at the Close of the Academic Year, 1837. A Tract' on 
 Faith, for the American Unitarian Association, 1837. A Sermon on the 
 Duel in which Jonathan Cilley was killed, 1838. A Sermon before the 
 Book and Pamphlet Society, 1838. A Sermon on the Personality of the 
 Deity, 1838. How to Spend a Day, 1839. Art of Hearing, 1839. David 
 Ellington's Subscription, 1839. A Sermon at the Ordination of R. C. 
 Waters ton, 1839. A Sermon at the Ordination of E. H. Sears, Lancas- 
 ter, 1840. The New Year : Tract for the American Unitarian Associa- 
 tion, 1840. How are the Great Evils in the World to be removed, 1840. 
 Saturday Evening at David Ellington's, 1840. A Sunday's Walk with 
 David Ellington, 1840. A Sermon on the Moral Principle of the Tem- 
 perance Movements, published in the Christian Examiner, 1841. 
 
 In addition to the above, he furnished upwards of one hundred articles 
 in the different religious newspapers and periodicals of the day. 
 
 FROM THE REV. EDWARD B. HALL. D. D. 
 
 Providence, August 6, 1849. 
 
 Dear Sir: You ask me to give you some of my reminiscences of Henry 
 Ware Jr., or some familiar illustrations of his life and character. I cannot 
 plead any want of material for such a task, still less any unwillingness to 
 think or write of one whose memory is so precious. But it is not easy to 
 transfer to paper, distinctly and impartially, our impressions of a departed 
 friend, especially when that friend was distinguished by uniform and unob- 
 trusive worth, and when the chief events of his life, and the prominent traits 
 of his character, have been already given to the public. 
 
 Among the characteristics of Henry Ware there were three, which none 
 
480 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 familiar with him could fail to observe, though, they could not be equally known 
 to all. These were his love of work, his love of his calling, and his love of 
 promoting and witnessing the happiness of others. 
 
 His love of work was a passion. It could hardly be called his nature, cer- 
 tainly not in any sense that would make it merely constitutional, or so easy 
 as to possess no merit. That he took to himself no merit on account of it 
 every one knew; but we also knew that it cost him some effort. He always 
 said that he was by nature indolent, and tempted to indulge his love of ease. 
 This appeared, perhaps, in his slowness to begin an arduous work, and his 
 habit of deferring much of his work till a late hour. And yet he never seemed 
 idle, and never failed to perform that which he had promised, or which could 
 be regarded as duty. However reluctantly or late he entered upon any task, 
 the moment he engaged in it his mind kindled, labour became pleasure, and he 
 worked on to the end with a devotion and love equal to those with which an 
 exciting and absorbing fiction is read through at a sitting. For this love of 
 work gave him a facility, and the facility again increased the love, so that he 
 accomplished more in a given time, and more easily, than any one I have 
 known, of such feeble health and interrupted efforts. Seldom was he wholly 
 well, and never wholly unemploj'ed. In his sick room he was constantly plan- 
 ning, if he could not execute; putting his plans on paper, or disclosing them to 
 willing ears; interesting and instigating others to work with him or for him. 
 For this again he was remarkable, — his love of seeing others work, and his 
 pain to see any one idle. Nor had he the least portion of that small selfish- 
 ness, which would monopolize the credit or withhold the advantage of its own 
 thoughts and plans for the good of others; and, provided they could be car- 
 ried into effect, he cared not by whom, nor would insist that it should be done 
 in his own way. Far from him was the poor ambition of appearing the origi- 
 nator of the scheme, and the poor prejudice of restricting all good to a form or 
 name. His love of labour was generous as well as ardent. In this, as in every 
 thing, he seemed as forgetful of self as is possible to our nature. Riding on 
 horseback for health, he was still at work. Resting at noon or night at an 
 inn, he sought a place where he could work, not only as a reader or thinker, 
 but a writer, and sometimes in works of grave character, requiring method 
 and great carefulness. Thus his well known work on the " Formation of 
 Christian Character " was planned and executed, as he tells us in the Preface, 
 in "some of the languid hours of a weary convalescence," upon "journeys 
 and in public houses." 
 
 As an aid to this love and habit of labour, he possessed a singular power of 
 abstraction and concentration of mind, independent of circumstances. No 
 particular time or place, no solitude or quiet without, was essential to the 
 working of his mind or pen. He loved to write in his parlour or nursery, sur- 
 rounded with prattlers and meddlers. He seemed often to be helped rather 
 than hindered by the climbing of a child on his chair or into his lap, nor did 
 it trouble him if some other mark than his own appeared on the paper. He 
 could write also away from home, in another man's study or without a study, 
 as some men think they cannot. Well do I remember, one Saturday night 
 in my early acquaintance with my brother "Ware, how he amazed me by the 
 ease and rapidity and zest with which he worked, when any one else would 
 have thought it an act of supererogation and severe labour. He had come to 
 preach for me with a supply of sermons. But as we conversed late in the 
 evening, I expressed a wish to hear him, at some time, on a particular theme. 
 Instantly he seized a pen and began to write. We talked, and he wrote on, 
 in short hand, but full sense and complete method; he wrote on until he had 
 finished an entire sermon, which he preached the next morning. 
 
 With his love of work may be named his love of the special work which he 
 
HENRY WARE, JUNIOR. 481 
 
 made the calling and business of his life. Few men have been so devoted 
 ministers without being exclusive ministers, as Henry Ware. I say, without 
 being exclusive, — and I mean, of course, exclusively and only a minister. 
 No man worked more for other objects, for all indeed in any way relating to 
 the ministry. Every high and worthy cause engaged his interest, and received 
 a share of his time; but never to the forgetfulness of his calling or to the neg- 
 lect of one of its duties. For Peace, Temperance, Freedom, Charity, Educa- 
 tion, Theology, the diffusion of the Scriptures, the influence and elevation of 
 the Lecture-room, he wrote, spoke and laboured. But no one,- 1 venture to 
 say, connected him exclusively with either of these, or supposed him to forget, 
 for a moment, or ever lay aside, the character of the minister. The temper 
 of the minister, the design of the Gospel, he blended with every other work, 
 showing their mutual relation and aiming to promote a reciprocal influence. 
 But he gave himself first and most to the direct work of the ministry itself; 
 and, whether as a, preacher or the teacher and helper of preachers, he allowed 
 no other object to come in competition with this. To it he gave the best ser- 
 vice of all his powers through all his life. In talking, reading, journeying 
 or resting, in health and sickness, even in the failure of nature and the last 
 efforts of an exhausted frame, his heart turned to this; and his thoughts and 
 prayers were given to it when he had nothing else to give. Going into his room 
 after his first serious attack of that disease of the brain of which he died, I 
 found him more earnest than ever in behalf of professional plans, and a relig- 
 ious enterprise which had long occupied his mind, and which he could not 
 bear to abandon. The springs of life had been touched, the silver cord was 
 loosed, but the spirit was strong; and deeply affecting was it to see him revive 
 at the very mention or thought of his work, kindling as he spoke, seeming as 
 if he would expire in the effort, pouring out the fervour of his struggling soul 
 in behalf of the cause for which he had lived, and for which alone he asked 
 still to live and labour. It was his life, and it never ceased but with life; or 
 rather ceased not at all, but only changed its sphere. 
 
 Both these traits which I have named were connected with another — at 
 least, they came in aid of another, — his love of witnessing and promoting 
 the happiness of those about him. With all his infirmity and occasional de- 
 pression from disease, with all his moderation, and, as some thought, cold- 
 ness, of manner, there was a warmth within, a heartiness of interest often 
 expressed, and a variety of effort perfectly genial and delightful. He seemed 
 never too busy or abstracted to think of others, or to plan and provide for 
 their enjoyment. With a load of work and care always upon him, he would 
 throw off all for domestic recreation or a frolic with children. For the young 
 his sympathies and powers of every kind were ever read}'; especially his 
 power of invention, imagination and extempore execution. The quick rhyme, 
 the droll story, the laughable fancy, the ingenious riddle, the childish song 
 or sport invented at the moment, and shared by himself and all the grown 
 people as well as children he could enlist, were among the lighter but not use- 
 less ways in which he sought to promote the happiness of family and friends. 
 Nor in all this was there the slightest approach to unbecoming levity or hurt- 
 ful liberty. Well might that be called the << happy medium " which he ob- 
 served; — happy in its avoidance of all extreme or questionable modes, and 
 also in its tendency to secure the rational enjoyment and activity which are 
 necessary for the young. It was beautiful to see how completely the respect 
 and reverence of the young were retained and even promoted with all this free- 
 dom. They might forget his office for the moment, but they could never forget 
 his goodness, his dignity of character, or his inviolable regard for all proprie- 
 ties and the strictest purity. An impure or improper word I believe no one 
 would have dared, and what is more and better, no one would have desired, to 
 
 Vol. VIII. 31 
 
482 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 utter in his presence. And all appeared to feel that his own happiness and 
 power of promoting theirs, that this very freedom and hilarity, came from 
 the strength of a religious principle and feeling which was part of himself. 
 And beautifully did this appear in connection with children and with pleasaDt 
 exercises. Some of the Thanksgiving hymns and little poems that he wrote, 
 were full of the spirit of devotion, yet suggestive and promotive of the freest 
 enjoyment. With young or old he could not give to religion » forbidding 
 aspect or harsh voice. Mingle religion with every thing, let everything be 
 moderated and hallowed, but nothing clouded or chilled by its presence. Let 
 not even the presence or thought of death make you gloomy or wretched. 
 This was the language of his own demeanour and character, at all times and in 
 every scene. Very near to him did death come repeatedly in the removal of 
 others, and gradually, but visibly and sureiy, in its approach to himself. But 
 no gloom, no fear, no change of deportment or hushing of life's music, did he 
 exhibit or desire. When a beloved child died, I stood with him and the serene 
 mother, watching the departure of the spirit; and then almost unconsciously 
 we knelt by the couch, and the tranquil silence was only broken by the low, 
 tremulous, rising and thrilling words of prayer, which came from the bowed 
 submissive father; and when those words ceased, the mother was found to be 
 insensible, not from agony but from exhaustion and suppressed emotion. 
 And now that this noble woman has gone also to join her husband and their 
 children in other scenes, I feel free to allude to two facts, illustrative of the 
 strong religious feelings of both of them. His own death occurred in the end 
 of the week, so that the body remained in the house at Framingham over the 
 Sabbath. The wife and mother, instead of making the day a constrained and 
 gloomy one to the children and helpers in a darkened home; still less willing 
 to profane the day and the occasion, as is often done, by the busy hum of 
 preparation for outside mourning, took her family with her to the quiet vil- 
 . lage church, and, with no unusual demonstrations, joined in the customary 
 worship; believing that no observance would be more acceptable to God, or 
 more in union with the spirit and present employment of him who had so 
 often led them to the temple and the altar. Again — it had been his custom 
 always, at the close of the Sabbath, to gather his children around him, hear 
 each one of them repeat some hymn or sacred verse that they had learned 
 tduring the day, tell them in his own words some interesting Scripture story, 
 or question them about that which they had heard, then lead them in singing, 
 hands all joined, and voices all blending, their sweet Sabbath hymn. This 
 beautiful custom was never suffered to cease in that home. When the father 
 had gone, the mother took it up, and continued it in all places and circum- 
 stances, alone or in the presence of friends, in health or sickness, even through 
 her own painful and fatal sickness, not omitting it, I believe a single Sabbath, 
 to the last of her own on earth. Never have I been more deeply impressed 
 or bound more in love to religion, than by some of those simple and beautiful 
 services. They will always help to keep distinct and glowing, in the heart's 
 memory, the image of Henry and Mary Ware. 
 
 With respect and regard, 
 
 Yours in Christian bonds. 
 
 EDWARD B. HALL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL WILLARD, D. D. 
 
 Deerfield, January 13, 1850. 
 My dear Sir : My personal acquaintance with Henry Ware, Jr., may be said 
 to have begun about the time of his Ordination, though I had sometimes seen 
 him in former years at his father's table, or in other circumstances which did 
 
HENRY WARE, JUNIOR. 483 
 
 not display his character. My acquaintance, which afterward became inti- 
 mate, continued, as circumstances favoured, to the close of his life. Soon after 
 his Ordination, while visiting in Boston, I was invited to attend a meeting of 
 several gentlemen who had undertaken jointly to edit the Christian Disciple, 
 and who came together for the purpose of determining the contents of the next 
 number; and I was much surprised and impressed by the manifestation of 
 two characteristics in Mr. Ware — those of prompt decision and great candour, 
 which are seldom united in the same person. He had a penetrating and com- 
 prehensive mind, and wis so familiar with the great principles of judgment 
 and action that it required little time for him to determine what was right and 
 true in regard to subjects analogous to those on which he would often be called 
 to act or judge. This prompt decision, which was a conspicuous trait in his 
 character through the residue of life, expressed itself in words. It was per- 
 fectly frank and unreserved. At the same time, it was combined with an 
 exemplary candour. He was ready to hear what might be said against his 
 opinions, and to throw the doors of his mind wide open to any new evidence 
 which might be offered, and especially to the evidence of fair experiment. 
 An anecdote will illustrate this extraordinary trait. 
 
 An acquaintance of his, who was endeavouring to introduce into our 
 churches such a modification of Psalmody as would secure a coincidence of 
 the poetic and musical emphasis, by preserving the same rhythms in all the suc- 
 cessive stanzas of each hymn, called on him with some of his compositions. 
 Mr. Ware promptly told him he had not much faith in the scheme. The author 
 replied, — " If you are at leisure, Sir, sit down, and let us tr} r the effect." 
 After singing the first hymn in the tune for which it was composed, Mr. Ware 
 says, — " I like that;" and he liked the second which was sung, and the third, 
 and the fourth, and in one hour was so strongly satisfied of the practicability 
 and importance of the scheme, that he afterwards gave it a cordial support in 
 more than one review. 
 
 •Mr. Ware united, in his temper and character, a remarkable degree of seri- 
 ousness with occasional humour, which might be pronounced truly attic. Of 
 this playful spirit many specimens may be found in his letters, contained in 
 the biography published -by his brother. Still, this humour was not the vital 
 air of his spirit, but only the amusement of an exhausted hour. He was 
 deeply impressed with the great object of life, and felt that, while he had 
 power to work, he must " be about his Father's business." From the account 
 given by his biographer, it appears that, even in his childhood, there were 
 manifestations of seriousness and a ministerial tendency much like those of 
 the lamented Buckminster. 
 
 The pulpit exercises of Mr. Ware left an impression on my mind more deep 
 and lasting than those of almost any other man whom it has been my lot to 
 hear. The first time I ever attended on his preaching was in my own pulpit, 
 more than thirty years ago. He passed the Sabbath with me, and preached 
 three times. One of his texts was << Felix trembled;" and his subject, T 
 think, was the power of Paul's preaching, and the sources of that power, 
 which appeared to me happily copied in his own sentiments, and the manner 
 by which they were enforced. The second was from the words, — " Know, 
 therefore, and see that it is an evil thing and bitter, that thou hast forsaken 
 the Lord thy God;" in which he showed, in a heart-searching manner, the 
 desolating effects of sin in the human soul. The third sermon was from the 
 words of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon, — << The half was not told me;" and 
 the proposition on which it was grounded was that the satisfaction resulting 
 from true religion, in the heart of man, surpassed all that could be intelligi- 
 bly described to any one who had not enjoyed the blessed experience. I have 
 not probably retained his precise language in any of these statements, but the 
 
484 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 sentiments are so vivid in ray recollection that I am confident I have not mis- 
 stated them. 
 
 It would be an interesting inquiry, what gave such peculiar impressiveness 
 to the preaching of Mr. Ware. Doubtless, the foundation was laid in the 
 momentous sentiments he delivered; but the same sentiments might have been 
 uttered by most others with very little of the same effect. The simplicity and 
 directness of the style was another source or accompaniment of his power as 
 a Preacher; but these things were not all. His utterance was peculiarly con- 
 vincing and impressive; yes, convincing — for it manifested the deep convictions 
 of his own mind. I have heard it said that he was no orator; and it is true 
 he was not an orator in the superficial or thoughtless application of that term. 
 His voice, in itself, had no peculiar charm. It was not remarkably full, nor 
 smooth, nor grave, nor flexible; but he spoke from the inspiration of his sub- 
 ject, apparently forgetful of himself, and perfectly free from any thing artifi- 
 cial or affected, as well as from the trammels of school-boy habits. His 
 emphases were always on the right words, and in just proportion to the 
 importance of those words in the several places in which they occurred. In 
 a word, his utterance was the same natural expression of thought which he 
 would have used if conversing with a private friend on the same interesting 
 subjects. This appears to me a sufficient explanation of the deep impressions 
 made by his preaching on the minds of those who had any regard for religious 
 truth or duty. I ought, however, to say that my observations must be lim- 
 ited to the first ten years of his public ministrations, for it was never my lot 
 to hear him preach after that period. 
 
 The influence of Dr. Ware on the clergy in general, and the young preach- 
 ers more particularly, who were in fellowship with him, was greater, perhaps, 
 than that of any other man, unless it were Dr. Channing. During the period 
 of controversy which followed the great schism which took place among the 
 Congregational ministers, Unitarian preaching lost much of its practical influ- 
 ence and spirituality. This was deeply lamented by Mr. Ware, and he 
 laboured much to bring into view, and keep in view, the higher design of 
 Christianity, — that of subduing in the hearts and lives of men those sins which 
 are the diseases, if not the death, of the soul, and to bring them to the state 
 of true, disinterested devotion to the cause of Christ, and the well-being of 
 mankind. The station he afterwards filled as Professor of Pulpit Eloquence 
 and Pastoral Duty in the Theological School at Cambridge gave him peculiar 
 opportunities for stamping his own simple manners on his pupils, and breath- 
 ing into them his own serious and fervent spirit; and the influence he exerted 
 was doubtless among the principal causes of the change that has taken place 
 in the services of the pulpit — a change which we have reason to hope will not 
 only be diffused more widely, but continue, for ages to come, to excite in the 
 hearts of men more and more of the spirit of Jesus. 
 
 I am very sincerely yours, 
 
 SAMUEL WILLARD. 
 
FRANCIS WILLIAM PITT GREENWOOD. 485 
 
 FRANCIS WILLIAM PITT GREENWOOD, D. D. 
 
 1817 — 1843. 
 FROM THOMAS BULFINCH, ESQ. 
 
 Boston, November 8, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir: I cheerfully comply with your request for some account 
 of the life, and some estimate of the character, of my lamented friend, the 
 late Rev. Dr. Greenwood. My relations to him first as a classmate, and 
 afterwards as a parishioner, render it only a labour of love for me to do 
 any thing I can in honour of his memory. 
 
 Francis W. P. Greenwood was born in Boston, February 5, 1797, 
 and was the son of Dr. William Pitt Greenwood, a Dentist by profession, 
 a worthy man and a good citizen, whose industry and discretion were 
 rewarded by a fair share of worldly success. The mother of Francis 
 (Mary Langdon) was an admirable woman, not only distinguished for the 
 virtues of the good wife and mother, but possessing moreover literary cul- 
 tivation, taste and talent. To those who knew her it was no mystery where 
 her son obtained his style of writing, so full of indescribable grace. 
 
 Francis was fitted for College at the Latin School in Boston, and entered 
 at Harvard in 1810, being then but thirteen and a half years old. His 
 deportment there was irreproachable, and his rank as a scholar among the 
 first third, which, in a class of sixty competitors, all but one older than 
 himself, was not discreditable. But his peculiar gifts of mind were not 
 those best calculated to secure rank in College. Purity, refinement, love 
 of the beautiful, with a slight tinge of melancholy, were his characteristics. 
 He sang sweetly, and his talents were often called into play at social gath- 
 erings of his classmates. His songs were all pure and delicate, such as his 
 sisters might have sung to their piano, rather than such as might have 
 been expected to suit college youths, whose mirth is apt to lack refinement. 
 He graduated in 1814, and, during the next three years, pursued his studies 
 in Theology at Cambridge, under the direction of the elder Dr. Ware. 
 
 He received approbation to preach in 1817. When he appeared in the 
 pulpit, the impression he made upon the public mind was immediate and 
 highly favourable. Then those talents, which had been but of little account 
 in the recitation room, shone in their appropriate sphere. His purity of 
 sentiment, his correctness of taste, his facility of diction, were set forth 
 with gracefulness of elocution and melody of voice. The substance of his 
 discourses was worthy of the manner. They were marked by clearness of 
 view, beauty of illustration, and soundness of judgment. They were not 
 often on controverted topics. It was the tender and emotional part of 
 religion that hi3 mind found most congenial to itself, and which he oftenest 
 presented to his hearers. 
 
 On the 21st of October, 1818, he was ordained minister of the New 
 South Church in Boston, as successor to the Rev, Samuel C. Thacher. 
 This position he relinquished in December, 1820, on account of a pulmonary 
 attack so serious as to induce him to visit Europe, with a view to a length- 
 
486 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ened stay, if necessary. He returned in 1821, and, for the benefit of a 
 milder climate than that of Boston, resorted to Baltimore. Here, by judi- 
 cious care, he found himself so far recovered as to be able to preach occa- 
 sionally in the Unitarian church, then under the charge of his friend Mr. 
 Sparks ; and after Mr. Sparks had resigned his charge, he occupied his 
 place for some time as a stated supply. He wrote frequently for the Uni- 
 tarian Miscellany, and for nearly two years was its editor. 
 
 On the 18th of May, 1824, he was married to Maria Goodwin, daughter 
 of a physician in Baltimore, a lady of congenial qualities, who is still liv- 
 ing. Of five children, the fruit of this marriage, three, — a son and two 
 daughters, survive. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood's health was so much invigorated as to permit his return 
 to Boston in 1824. He soon received an offer of settlement at King's 
 Chapel, Boston, the church where his parents attended, and where his 
 early religious vows had been offered. His former Society also desired to 
 renew the connection ; but he decided in favour of the church of his child- 
 hood, and was duly installed August 29, 1824, over the Church of King's 
 Chapel, as colleague of the Rev. Dr. Freeman. Mr. Greenwood himself 
 preached the Sermon on the occasion, while the other services were per- 
 formed by the Senior Pastor and the Wardens of the Church. Here he 
 continued to labour with zeal, talent and public favour, till his death in 
 1843. 
 
 For twenty-five years he discharged the duties of the Christian ministry 
 devotedly and acceptably. His pulpit services were fervent, devotional, 
 and of a high order of literary merit. He was faithful to the calls of sick- 
 ness and sorrow, as well as to those of the Sunday School and of general 
 education. He also occasionally contributed to the literature of the day ; 
 and some of his pieces, such, for instance, as his two Essays, " The Sea" 
 and " The Religion of the Sea," will be remembered as having appeared 
 in Annuals and other periodicals, and been greeted with high favour by 
 the public. They were collected in a volume of Miscellanies in 1846. Two 
 volumes of "Discourses," and another entitled " Sermons of Consolation" 
 still hold a high place in the estimation of those whose religious views har- 
 monize with those of the author. I have lately seen a fourth edition of 
 the last named volume in England. 
 
 The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him by Harvard 
 College in 1839. 
 
 Dr. Greenwood's writings were characterized by good taste, poetic ima- 
 gination and graceful style. Add to these traits the earnestness of devo- 
 tional feeling which filled the preacher's breast and pervaded all his utter- 
 ances, and you cannot be at a loss to account for the high estimation in 
 which he was held as a Christian Preacher. 
 
 I should not omit to give that evidence of character which is shown in 
 the choice of amusements. Dr. Greenwood's love of the beautiful found 
 gratification in collecting around him curious and tasteful objects of art. 
 But more still the beautiful in nature had charms for him. He became 
 an accomplished Conchologist and a practical Botanist, and was one of the 
 first to engage in forming a Society of Natural History in Boston, which 
 has since attained a distinguished position among institutions of science. 
 
FRANCIS WILLIAM PITT GREENWOOD. 487 
 
 I have mentioned the attack of pulmonary disease, which compelled him, 
 early in life, to resign for a time his professional lahours and visit Europe 
 for the recovery of his health. A similar attack in 1837 sent him to Cuha 
 to avoid the rigours of a New England winter. The effect of these attacks 
 was to impress his mind with a deep sense of the uncertainty of life, and a 
 conviction that in his ease it could not be long. On his return home he 
 sympathized less than ever in the critical questionings and intellectual 
 struggles of theologians. Devotion seemed to him the all in all of religion. 
 If he was capable of uncharitableness to any, it was towards those who, in 
 their freedom of discussion of sacred themes, seem to forget how inestimable 
 a treasure they are dealing with, and how much they imperil religion itself 
 ia their endeavour to solve questions not of paramount importance, and 
 perhaps not capable of solution by mortal faculties. 
 
 The last sermon he preached was in May, 1842. It is the closing dis- 
 course of those comprised in the two volumes published in 1844, — a fit 
 parting lesson of constancy, moderation and calmness, by one whose life 
 was u, beautiful example of the virtues he inculcated. 
 
 In the month of June, 1843, he occupied a temporary home in the 
 adjoining town of Dorchester, to pass the summer in the country. To all 
 appearance he was much as he had been for many months, and there 
 seemed no particular reason to fear the termination of his life for many 
 months to come, But on Wednesday, the 2d of August, he was waked 
 early in the morning by the flowing of blood from his lungs ; and, in a few 
 minutes, hi? vital powers were exhausted and he died, — as quietly and 
 uncomplainingly as he had lived. On the Friday following, the Funeral 
 service was performed in King's Chapel, by his friend and relative, the 
 . Kev. Dr. Frothingham, who, on the succeeding Sunday, preached an appro- 
 priate Discourse in the same place. 
 
 Dr. Greenwood's character was one of eminent purity, and he adorned 
 every relation that he sustained. His memory is still cherished with una- 
 bated regard by those who enjoyed the advantage of his public services and 
 of his private intercourse. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. G-reenwood's publications exclusive of 
 his contributions to periodicals : — Eternity of God : (originally a Sermon) 
 published at Liverpool and often republished. Memoir of the Rev. Samuel 
 Cooper Thacher, prefixed to the volume of his Sermons, 1824. An Essay 
 on the Lord's Supper, 1824. A Sermon at the Twenty-fifth Anniversary 
 of the Boston Female Asylum, 1825. The Artillery Election Sermon, 
 1826. Remarks on a Popular Error respecting the Lord's Supper, — 
 Tract of the American Unitarian Association, First series, 1826. A Ser- 
 mon occasioned by the Death of Governor Gore, 1S27. A Visit to Ston- 
 henge. Letter to Dr. Kirkland on his Resignation of the Presidency of 
 Harvard College, 1828. A Sermon at the Ordination of Warren Dutton 
 as Minister of the Third Congregational Society in Cambridge, 1828. A 
 Sermon at the Ordination of William Parsons Lunt as Pastor of the Sec- 
 ond Congregational Society in the City of New York, 1828. Lives of the 
 
 Apostles, 1828. On the New Testament conformed to Griesbach's Text 
 
 Tract of the American Unitarian Association, No. 30, First series, 1829. 
 Psalms and Hymns, 1830, (iu 1853 this had reached its fifty-seventh edi- 
 
488 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tion.) Comprehensiveness of Charity : A Sermon delivered at the Ordi- 
 nation of the Rev. William Newell as Pastor of the First Parish in Cam- 
 bridge, 1830. The Theology of the Cambridge Divinity School : Tract of 
 the American Unitarian Association, No. 32, First series, 1830. The 
 Christian and National Church : A Sermon preached at the Installation of 
 the Rev. James W. Thompson, over the Independent Congregational 
 Church in Salem, 1832. A Sermon preached in King's Chapel, on the 
 Fast Day appointed by the Governor of Massachusetts on account of the 
 appearance of the Cholera in the United States, 1832. History of King's 
 Chapel, 1833. Address before the Natural History Society, 1833. The 
 Promise of Jesus to the pure in heart : Tract of the American Unitarian 
 Association, No. 93, First series, 1835. A Sermon preached in King's 
 Chapel, the Sunday after the Funeral of the Rev. James Freeman, D. D., 
 1835. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of the Rev. John T. Sargent, 
 as Minister at Large in Boston, 1837. A Good Old Age: A Sermon 
 preached on the Death of Joseph May, Esq., 1841. Sermons to Children, 
 1841. Sermons of Consolation, 1842. In 1844 a Selection from his Ser- 
 mons was published in two volumes, 12mo.; and in 1846 his Miscellaneous 
 Writings in one volume, 12mo. Three editions of the Chapel Liturgy were 
 prepared by Dr. Greenwood ; and he also edited the Rev. Henry Duncan's 
 Philosophy of the Seasons, in four volumes, in 1839. The Classical Reader 
 was compiled by him and Mr. George B. Emerson. His contributions to 
 the Christian Examiner, North American Review, and several other peri- 
 odicals, would probably exceed one hundred. Among these are some of 
 his finest literary efforts. 
 
 Very truly and respectfully yours, 
 
 T. BULFINCH. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL J. MAY. 
 
 Syracuse, November 6, 1862. 
 
 My dear Sir: You could scarcely have touched a more tender cord in my 
 heart than by asking for my reccollections of my lamented friend Greenwood; 
 and yet I fear that I shall give you but a very inadequate idea of my impres- 
 sions concerning him. I knew him intimately from our childhood till his 
 death. His parents and mine both worshipped at the Stone Chapel, — my 
 father being a Warden of the Church, and his a highly respectable member 
 of it; and there he and I used to meet every Sunday to hear Dr. Freeman 
 preach, and sometimes elsewhere, on other days, to have things after our own 
 boyish way. I was with him in College for one year, and in the Divinity 
 School nearly a year; and had the' best opportunity of witnessing the remark- 
 able developments both of his intellect and of his heart. 
 
 His reputation as a scholar in College was by no way remarkable, — owing, 
 however, not to any lack of capacity for the highest scholarship, but to a 
 passion for general reading, which led him to treat too lightly the prescribed 
 course of study. He was a respectable scholar and nothing more; but in the 
 higher and more beautiful fields of literature you could scarcely find any one 
 who was more at home than he. He was as far as possible, however, from 
 any thing like pretension or conceit; and when he came out one of the most 
 popular preachers of his day, it was evidently the occasion of as much surprise 
 to himself.as of gratification to his friends. One of his first sermons was on 
 the Eternity of God, an extract from which he afterwards published in the 
 
FRAN CIS, WILLIAM PITT GREENWOOD. 489 
 
 Unitarian Miscellany; and all who heard it united in the opinion that it could 
 have been produced only by a mind of extraordinary beauty and elevation. 
 So strong was the impression in his favour that he very soon received calls 
 from two churches in Boston; — one from that on Church Green, which had 
 reeentl}' been vacated by the death of the Rev. Samuel Cooper Thacher, and 
 the other from the Church in Hollis Street, then lately made vacant by the 
 removal of the Rev. Horace Holley. I am satisfied that these calls, instead of 
 exciting his self-complacency, as might have been expected in so young a man, 
 only put him into a, state of painful embarrassment in respect to his duty. 
 While in that state of mind, he came to my room to ask me to go and ride 
 with him; and it turned out that his object was nothing less than to talk over 
 the subject upon which he had been called so unexpectedly to decide, and 
 gather as much light as he could upon the question, — what he ought to do. 
 His great anxiety evidently was to do right; to choose the place best adapted, 
 on the whole, to his talents and tastes; and the result was that lie went to 
 Church Green. His whole treatment of this subject evinced great conscien- 
 tiousness, and the most scrupulous regard to propriety and delicacy. 
 
 Dr. Greenwood was of about the medium stature, of a slender frame, and 
 having much of a consumptive appearance. lie had a luminous poetic coun- 
 tenance, that was an index to the beautiful thoughts and tender and generous 
 feelings of which his mind and heart were such a rich repository. He had fine 
 powers of conversation; and though never given to talking excessively, his 
 simple, graceful, often witty, and always well adapted, utterances, made him 
 a most agreeable companion. Nobody could ever grow weary in his company; 
 and nobody could he in it long without gathering something that would be 
 likely to remain among his cherished remembrances. His mind was not more 
 sparkling than his heart was warm and sympathetic. The sight of misery 
 was with him always the signal of exertion to relieve it. Not his more im- 
 mediate friends only, but all who came within the circle of his influence, may 
 be invoked to testify of his tenderness and generosity. 
 
 As a Preacher it would be safe enough to leave Dr. Greenwood to be judged 
 by the large number of his discourses, which have appeared in print. What- 
 ever difference of opinion may exist concerning them as to other points, all, 
 I am sure, will agree in this, — that they are exquisitely beautiful, in both 
 thought and expression. And, so far as I remember, they contain little or 
 nothing which a Christian of your denomination, or any other that is termed 
 "Evangelical," could not cordially subscribe 'to — and this, I suppose, to 
 have been true of much the greater part of his preaching. His manner was 
 marked by great propriety and dignity, while yet there was no approach to 
 any affectation of reverence. His voice, not very loud, was smooth and agree- 
 able, and well fitted for the services of the pulpit. You are aware that in 
 the Stone Chapel, where he was finally settled, there is a Liturgy corres- 
 ponding somewhat to that of the Episcopal Church — he read that in the most 
 appropriate and impressive manner. He made you feel that, instead of re- 
 garding it as a mere matter of form, — a thing that must be done, no matter 
 how, he was speaking from the depths of his own spirit, and performing what 
 he looked upon as the most sacred duties that ever devolved upon him. 
 
 It is perhaps due to candour to say that if there was one point in Dr. Green- 
 wood's character which, in any degree, disturbed its symmetry or detracted 
 from its general effect, it was a lack of that iron firmness, which would be a 
 security for his standing erect in the face of violent opposition. I witnessed 
 one or two cases illustrative of this, and frankly told him that I thought he 
 had complied with certain demands, which had been made upon him, at too 
 great an expense: and his reply was "men are differently constituted." I 
 do not mean to reflect in the least upon his conscientiousness, but only to say 
 
490 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 that courage was not the leading element of his character, though he was by 
 no means destitute of it. Yours fraternally, 
 
 SAMUEL J. MAY. 
 
 FROM MISS ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 Boston, June 21, 1854. 
 My dear Sir : It is a delicate affair to speak of so delicate a beauty as was 
 that which pertained to the mind and character of Francis P. Greenwood. 
 But I cannot refuse to do my best. My first knowledge of him was in 1822; 
 after Ins first ministerial career had been brought to a sudden close by a bleed- 
 ing of the lungs; and I think he had just returned from Europe, where he 
 had been for rest and recreation. I remember his saying that he had had the 
 pleasure of telling tire poet Wordsworth that his lyrical ballad of " We are 
 Seven " was the earliest recollection of his childhood; and all my subsequent 
 knowledge of him proved that, if he was nurtured on Wordsworth's poetry, 
 in his case at least, 
 
 " The child was father of the man." 
 
 I used to meet him once a week at the family dinner-table of Mrs. Frances 
 Ohanning, widow of the elder brother of Dr. Channing, where he was accus- 
 tomed to visit his friend Miss Cabot, afterward Mrs. Follen; and where I was 
 impressed at once with his remarkable individuality. The- calm, unpretend- 
 ing, unworldly simplicity of his manners made a wonderful impression. He 
 was silent rather than talkative; for he never spoke for the sake of speaking. 
 That would have been impossible to his absolute truthfulness. He seemed to 
 be destitute of the ordinary egotism appertaining to consciousness. 
 
 I knew him again more familiarly after 1825, when he lived in Boston as :i 
 minister of King's Chapel; and the impression which he made upon me at first 
 continued during my whole acquaintance with him. You could not say that 
 he was witty; but he was acute— or, rather, truth was acute by his instru- 
 mentality; for it could express itself through his transparency. His mind 
 loved to harmonize, rather than to contrast things or thoughts; he sought for 
 the secret tie of unity in nature, and regarded forms as always, in all their 
 variety, pointing to this unity. Hence he was diametrically opposite, in the 
 turn of his genius, to Dr. Kirkland. The latter seemed himself intellectually 
 identified with the very form%tive unity, and the impulse of his mind was to 
 contemplate as an object the varieties in which it issued. Hence he delighted 
 in defining and characterizing. Mr. Greenwood seemed to wake to conscious- 
 ness on the circumference, instead of at the centre, and it was his intellectual 
 impulse to appreciate the pervading spirit of the whole. His best sermons 
 were on the most general subjects. They abounded in sentences like these : 
 << Because we cannot resist God's Omnipotence, we can lean upon it;" " Be- 
 cause we cannot comprehend God's Wisdom, we can give ourselves up to be 
 guided by it implicitly;" << If God were not incomprehensible, He would not 
 be essentially greater than we, and how could we rest in Him ?" 
 
 But he was more generally admired for catching and delineating the sym- 
 bolism of the Christian History. It was to him the drapery of eternal truth. 
 He had the faculty of assembling images of nature in such a way that the 
 general expression of the whole would be what we would see and feel, not 
 only at the moment but afterwards when we saw the single image; and every 
 circumstance of the history of Jesus was dwelt upon, also, with reference to 
 its most general significance. I remember a masterpiece in this kind was upon 
 " The CroWn of Thorns." The life of the Savigur seemed an epic and a Divine 
 drama in his hands. 
 
FRANCIS WILLIAM PITT GREENWOOD. 491 
 
 His preaching, like Dr. Kirkland's, was ethical; but its effect was deeper 
 on the passionate nature, though it did not touch such a depth as Dr. Clian- 
 ning's. His natural audience was the refined and affectionate, especially the 
 young and imaginative; and to them he was wholesome always, and some- 
 times terrible. I recollect a Sermon of his upon Memory, which, like the 
 angel of judgment, seemed to tear up the hearts of his audience, and make 
 everybody sore with remorse. I at one time attended his church with some 
 young people who were under my care; and their varying colour and intense 
 consciousness made continual revelations of the deep incisions of the moral 
 surgeon. " It requires a great deal of resolution," said one, one morning, 
 " to go and hear Mr. Greenwood; for his mere)' has no mercy." I was in the 
 habit, in my school, of asking the children Monday morning what the minis- 
 ter preached about- A little girl nine years old, of very susceptible tem- 
 perament, and conscientious almost to morbidness, exclaimed, on one of these 
 occasions, with great energy, and in an agony of tears, — " Oh, I wish } r ou 
 would never ask me what Mr. Greenwood preaches about; for he is always 
 preaching about all that I don't do, and all that I do do, that ought not to be 
 so, and it makes me feel dreadfull}-." Yet his preaching was neither exhorta- 
 tory nor denunciatory. He did not seem to preach as he would, but as the 
 subject would. There was always in his hand, as he went through the moral 
 vineyard of the soul, the pruning knife of the Spirit, cutting off all that 
 seemed to him not to be fruit of the vine tree. Some one once said that Mr. 
 Greenwood gathered the flowers of Christianity to entertain the audience with 
 their beauty. A young man, who was in the habit of hearing him, replied, — 
 " But the beauty is terrible, and the entertainment an agony of shame and 
 remorse, if the hearer has any conscience." Still, I apprehend that people 
 seldom went to him as a Pastor for religious counsel to themselves individu- 
 ally. It did not seem to be Mr. Greenwood, but the subject which made him 
 its transparent medium, and pursued its inevitable way and did its work, 
 while he never knew, but only the hearer knew, what was done. As if he 
 said, — " Behold the truth; it is eternal, and you must dwell with it forever! 
 See that you adjust yourself to it, that it may bless you. I have no respon- 
 sibility but to state it." 
 
 Mr. Greenwood was never unduly thoughtful of his own reputation. When he 
 had marked out what he considered his line of duty, he pursued it with small 
 heed of the speech of people. He was very delicate in his health, and could only 
 preserve it by great care and avoiding all overtaxing. He was settled at King's 
 Chapel on the express understanding that he should preach his old sermons, 
 each one of which svas a gem of literary art in the eyes of his hearers; and a 
 large portion of his old parishioners at Church Green immediately transferred 
 themselves to King's Chapel, when he was settled there. It was thought that 
 the fact of the devotional service being read there would favour his bodily 
 weakness; and his people told him they preferred he should frequently repeat 
 his sermons to his risking exchanges that involved exhaustion. It was also 
 understood that there would be little parochial visiting. 
 
 In the course of years, there was some dissatisfaction in some quarters, 
 respecting this last arrangement; and it gave to Mr. Greenwood much pain, 
 which he occasionally expressed to his intimate friends. But his dignified free- 
 dom from egotism always kept him from self-sought explanations and self- 
 vindications. He regretted when he was unjustly blamed for not fulfilling obli- 
 gations that he had expressly guarded himself from incurring, and which were 
 of a conventional nature in principle. Once only did I seek an explanation of one 
 of the circumstances for which he was blamed, and which seemed to involve a 
 violation of one of those duties of the heart, which transcended any official 
 obligation. It was where the son of a lady, who had always loved him 
 
492 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 devotedly, was lying at the point of death, and he was sent for and did not 
 go, apparently because he was engaged with his wife, who was very ill, but 
 whom it was thought he might and ought to have left under the circumstances. 
 lie told me, however, why he did not go, and the reasons were of a wholly 
 different character, inhering in some circumstances which involved the hap- 
 piness of the family to which he was called. He had been privately requested 
 by the husband of the lady and father of the son, not to go, in the very letter 
 which they thought carried the first request; and to have done so would 
 have involved a domestic tragedy. The question lay between doing as he did, 
 and compromising himself in the eyes of a large circle of his acquaintance, who 
 might draw the inference that he was personally selfish, and even unfaithful. 
 It was a very bitter trial to him, and he expressed the greatest sensibility to 
 what he called my justice in asking of him an explanation, in the confidence 
 I had that it could not be as it appeared. He said, — " It is rare, I find, to 
 judge of circumstances by character, rather than of character by circum- 
 stances." But he had no hesitation in making the sacrifice of his reputation, 
 rather than risk doing an irreparable injury, as it would have been to have 
 explained, where he was not asked, and could not impose discretion. It was 
 the duty of another person to have cleared up his conduct in the case, who did 
 not do it. But Mr. Greenwood could better bear any degree of misapprehen- 
 sion than violate that delicate sense of duty which prescribed to him the self- 
 sacrifice. All the parties to this matter are since dead, or I could not allude 
 to it without doing the same mischief that he avoided. We had a great deal 
 of conversation on the subject; for it was hard for me to bear hearing him 
 censured, and be compelled to defend him by generalities only. He said once 
 that the peculiar pain it gave him to leave his name under this shadow, in the 
 hearts which suffered in condemning him, proved to him the absolute nature 
 of the command to deny one's self. It crucified his particular taste to be just 
 so misapprehended. He drew from this personal experience many inferences 
 as to social duty, and especially those duties enjoined in the passage, — 
 " Judge not that ye be not judged, &c.;" and I felt how long it affected hiui 
 by the sermons to which it gave rise, but which no one would have imagined 
 the source of, since they were preached to himself, as it were, in the first 
 place. 
 
 lie was as impersonal as Dr. Kirkland, with a different manifestation of it. 
 My parents went to his church, and I always did so too, except when Dr. 
 Channing preached: and then I went to hear him, and always as I went, met 
 Mr. Greenwood on the wa} - . And it was perfectly easy to do so. There was 
 no germ of competitory ambition in him. His magnanimity was not a virtue, 
 but a quality of his soul. His preventing innocence seemed to preclude the 
 usual struggles against the passions. 
 
 It may add some weight to my testimony to this beautiful character to know 
 that it comes from one who no longer believes that the whole secret of life is 
 contained in the Unitarian creed, that Mr. Greenwood professed to preach, but 
 to which he certainly was not in spirit confined; as one proof of which I 
 would point to his special fondness for Dr. Watts' and Charles Wesley's 
 Hymns, that so largely abound in his Collection of Hymns for public worship. 
 Yours very respectfully, 
 
 ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
WILLIAM BOURN OLIVER PEABODY. 493 
 
 WILLIAM BOURN OLIVER PEABODY, D. D * 
 
 1819 — 1847. 
 
 William Bourn Oliver Peabodt was born in Exeter, N. H., July 
 9, 1799. His parents were worthy and excellent people, and his father, 
 who was greatly respected by the community at large, held the office of 
 Judge of Probate. Young Peabody was, by the circumstances of his birth 
 and education, thrown, from his earliest years, into the most cultivated and 
 refined society ; and it was manifest, in after life, that his tastes and habits 
 of thinking and feeling had been formed under such an influence. The 
 prominent characteristics of his childhood and youth were modesty, gen- 
 tleness, conscientiousness and discretion. 
 
 In the year 1808, when he was nine years of age, he was placed at the 
 Academy in Atkinson, N. H., and was, while there, an inmate of the family of 
 his venerable relative, the Kev. Stephen Peabody, who was married to the 
 sister of the wife of the first President Adams. Having remained here for 
 a few months only, he was admitted, in the autumn of the same year, a 
 student in Exeter Phillips Academy. Here he showed himself an uncom- 
 monly gifted boy, and discovered a taste for poetry, which he cultivated, in 
 subsequent years, with no small success. Without being distinguished 
 in the severer studies, he was always diligent and attentive, and remarka- 
 ble for a distrust of his own abilities. 
 
 In the autumn of 1813 he was admitted a member of the Sophomore 
 class in Harvard University. Here, as at the Academy, he maintained a 
 highly respectable standing for scholarship, and in his moral deportment 
 was most exemplary. He devoted no small part of his time, during his 
 college course, to general reading, and, as his memory was remarkably 
 accurate and retentive, he accumulated, in this way, a vast amount of 
 information, upon which he was able to draw in subsequent years. He 
 graduated at the Commencement in 1816, on which occasion he delivered 
 an English Poem, which was considered as evincing an uncommon degree 
 of taste and talent. 
 
 Notwithstanding his taste inclined him to the ministry, and it seems to 
 have been understood, from his very early years, that this would probably 
 be his profession, it was not thought best, considering that he was only 
 seventeen years old, that he should commence his theological studies im- 
 mediately after his graduation ; and hence he engaged, for one year, as an 
 assistant teacher in the Academy at Exeter. In this place he discharged 
 his duties in a manner the most satisfactory to all concerned, while he 
 found the occupation of much use to himself, in giving him a habit of ac- 
 curacy in acquiring and imparting knowledge. 
 
 In the autumn of 1817 he went to Cambridge to pursue his theological 
 studies, under the direction of Dr. Warp, the Hollis Professor of Divinity. 
 lie commenced preaching in the year 1819, when he had just reached the 
 age of twenty. Early in 1820 he went to Springfield to preach as a candi- 
 date to the Unitarian Society, which had been formed, a few months before, 
 * Memoir prefixed to his Sermons. 
 
494 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 by a secession from Dr. Osgood's. His services proved acceptable to them, 
 and in due time he received a call to ttecome their Pastor. He accepted 
 the call and was ordained, and installed on the 12th of October, the Ser- 
 mon on the occasion being preached by the Rev. Dr. "Ware, from 1 Cor. 
 Xlll. 10, " We know but in part." 
 
 Mr. Peabody's situation as a minister was insulated, there being, at that 
 time, no other clergyman of the Unitarian faith in that neighbourhood, 
 and the time having come when exchanges between Orthodox and Unitarian 
 ministers were almost wholly discontinued. In consequence of this, he 
 found an amount of labour devolving upon him, too great for his physical 
 strength, and his health soon became seriously affected. In the summer of 
 1S21, he suffered severely from an affection of his eyes, insomuch that 
 serious apprehensions were entertained by his friends that he would be 
 obliged to retire from his profession. The next year he was taken off 
 from his labours for several months, by extreme debility, though he was 
 able to return to them late in the autumn. From this time, though he was 
 always troubled more or less with weakness of the eyes, and his bodily health 
 was at best imperfect, he was laboriously engaged, with very few interrup- 
 tions, during the residue of his life. 
 
 On the 8th of September, 1824, 'Mr. Peabody was married to Miss Eliza- 
 beth Amelia White, daughter of Bloses White Esq., of Lancaster, N. H., 
 a lady of great natural attraction and loveliness. In this connection he 
 found a source of the richest domestic enjoyment, though the termination 
 of it, which came after a few years, was the severest trial of his life. 
 
 In connection with his professional labours, he devoted considerable at- 
 tention to different departments of Natural Science. His knowledge of 
 plants and forest trees, of the varieties of birds and their different habits, 
 was extensive and accurate. 
 
 About the year 1830 he wrote an article for the North American Re- 
 view, upon one of Audubon's splendid volumes, which was the beginning 
 of an acquaintance between them, that was terminated only by death. He 
 also contributed to the same work several other valuable articles on Natu- 
 ral History. He wrote also for Sparks' American Biography, the Life of 
 Alexander Wilson, the Ornithologist, which is alike interesting for its 
 beautiful style and its touching details. In 1837, a survey of the State of 
 Massachusetts, with reference to several branches of science, having been 
 ordered by the Legislature, the Governor, Edward Everett, upon whom it 
 devolved to appoint suitable persons to execute the task, selected Mr. Pea- 
 body to prepare a Report on the Birds of the Commonwealth : and he per- 
 formed the service in a most creditable and satisfactory manner. He 
 brought to the work not only the fruits of extensive study and research, but 
 a quick perception of the beautiful and a deep sympathy with nature, which 
 made his descriptions as acceptable to the general as the scientific reader. 
 
 In 1842 M •. Peabody received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from 
 Harvard University. 
 
 On the evening of the 16th of March, 1843, a meeting of Dr. Peabody's 
 congregation took place at his own house, before which he delivered a fam- 
 iliar Address, reviewing the history of the society in connection with his 
 own ministry. It was, in modern phrase, a "donation party," though 
 
WILLIAM BOUEN OLIVER PEABODY. 495 
 
 religious exercises were connected with it. The occasion was one of great 
 interest to both Dr. Peabody and his Society, and the Address which it 
 called forth was published. 
 
 Dr. Peabody's earthly prospects, at this period, seemed every thing that 
 he could desire. His congregation were eminently devoted to him, and 
 ready to do any thing that might Subserve, in any way, his comfort or use- 
 fulness. He was greatly respected and beloved in the community at large, 
 and received many gratifying tokens of public favour. Above all, lie had 
 a bright and lovely family of children around him, and a wife, whose talents, 
 and accomplishments, and generous dispositions, qualified her' to grace any 
 circle into which she could have been thrown. But, though he seemed to 
 be in the very noontide of his earthly bliss, a dark cloud was soon to appear, 
 and that was to pass off, only to make way for another and another. 
 
 Mrs. Peabody's health was not vigorous, and, previous to the summer 
 of 1848, her strength had evidently been somewhat upon the wane. Late in 
 the month of September she was attacked by illness, but not in its incip- 
 ient stages so severe as to excite any apprehension on the part of her 
 friends. Nevertheless, she seemed herself to have had, from the begin- 
 ning, a presentiment that it would have a fatal termination ; and one even- 
 ing she requested that all the children might come into her chamber, that 
 their parents might together consecrate them in prayer to God. Her dis- 
 ease resisted the power of medicine, and it quickly became apparent that 
 her end was near. She received the intelligence with perfect calmness, 
 and, clasping her hands, exclaimed, with a smile, — " Is it possible? Am 
 I so early to be blessed ? Shall I so soon be with my Saviour and my 
 God ?" She died on the 4th of October, 1843. 
 
 The following is an extract from Mrs. Peabody's diary : — 
 
 " I am desirous to ascertain with distinctness what my duty is for the day. It is 
 one of those days of" comparative leisure, when no immediate call comes upon me for 
 active employment or spiritual exertion. I find myself not indisposed fur activity, and 
 having a wakeful interest for my religious improvement, so that I desire to be (bund in 
 the service of my Master, but see no reason to suppose that I shall accomplish any 
 thing for myself or others, for, having no definite purpose as an object for the day, it 
 will be likely to pass away in unprofitable thoughts. This waste of such days distresses 
 me. because I know the time will come when such a portion of time will seem invalu- 
 able to me, and I shall see distinctly before me objects of infinite importance, which 
 time only is wanting to mature. Here then is the time — where are these objects? 
 Can they be called up to the enquiring soul ready to embrace them? Gracious Father, 
 one who longs to be truly thy servant in all tilings, humbly waits upon thee at this 
 time, wishing to see the exact work which thou hast given h°r to do. She is in time 
 which is passing away. She fills relations to thee and to her fellow beings, which have 
 their legitimate obligations. She must have something to do in this place, and at this 
 time, which can be done by no other person, and at no other time. What then is her 
 duty for this day? She would not float at random even on the waters of life. No. she 
 would rather labour to attain her destined harbour, that, when the evening comes, she 
 may he ready to wait on thee, to seek thy judgment on her labour." 
 
 At the time of his wife's death, Dr. Peabody's family consisted of four 
 sons and a daughter, — the latter, — the eldest of the five, having reached 
 the ago of eighteen, and being distinguished for her personal accomplishments 
 and intellectual attractions. As it devolved upon this daughter now to 
 take the place of her mother in the concerns of the household, and especially 
 iu the management of the younger children, and as she had hitherto had 
 very little experience in domestic affairs, her father addressed to her a let- 
 ter of advice, the most touching and impressive, which, combined with 
 
496 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 other influences, seems to have wrought a most desirable change in her 
 character. She immediately took her place at the head of the family, dis- 
 charging the various duties which devolved upon her in that relation, with 
 the utmost discretion, dignity and fidelity. She also, soon after, joined her 
 father's church, engaged with great activity in the promotion of benevolent 
 objects, and seemed, in almost all respects, to fill the place that had been 
 vacated by her mother. Her devotion to her father was most constant and 
 exemplary, while her conduct in respect to her brothers was such that they 
 looked up to her with respect as well as affection. But the flower which 
 was so beautiful in its opening, was quickly nipped by the frost of death. 
 In January, 1844, nearly four months after the death of her mother, she 
 was suddenly prostrated by a disease which proved to be the scarlet fever. 
 Her father, who was himself at this time quite ill, thus writes to a friend : — 
 " In a former day, I should have felt very badly to have such a disease 
 make its appearance in the family ; but I have learned better. I cannot 
 be without anxiety for my dear Fanny, and the other children, but I have 
 no fears ; I can leave all to Him who disposes these events, with perfect 
 confidence in his love, and without a wish to alter his appointment, what- 
 ever it may be." A few hours after this was written, her father was called 
 from his own sick chamber to her bedside, to see her breathe her last. 
 She died on the 23th of the month, after an illness of about four days. 
 Dr. Peabody, as soon as he was able to return to his pulpit, availed himself 
 of the sad event to address, with great tenderness and earnestness, the 
 youth of his congregation. 
 
 Notwithstanding these afflictions — the one succeeding the other so 
 quickly — came upon Dr. Peabody with an almost crushing weight, he 
 continued in the discharge of his ordinary duties, and manifested more 
 depth and power of feeling in his preaching than he had perhaps ever done 
 before. In July, 1846, he delivered a Discourse before the Alumni of the 
 Divinity School at Cambridge, when the state of his health was such that 
 his hearers listened to his voice almost as if it had been a voice from the 
 grave. Early in October following he was attacked with illness, which, 
 though of short continuance, was followed by great exhaustion. After an 
 absence of two or three Sabbaths from his pulpit, he returned to it, while 
 he was yet too feeble to stand. During the winter, he suffered not a little 
 from a failure of his voice ; but he continued his labours with great zeal, 
 and, besides preaching as usual on the Sabbath, took a class in the Sunday 
 School, and made large contributions to the North American Review. In 
 the month of April, 1847, he was visited with a severe cough, which greatly 
 alarmed his people, and led them to urge upon him the importance of tak- 
 ing a lengthened recess from his labours, and even of trying the effect of a 
 voyage to Europe. The utmost that he would consent to was that he 
 would take short journeys, and avail himself frequently of the privilege of 
 supplying his pulpit by exchanges with his brethren at a distance. On the 
 16th of May he preached to his people for the last time. His last sermon 
 was from the text, — " To be spiritually minded is life and peace." On the 
 Wednesday following he was occupied nearly the whole day in writing an 
 article which he had promised for the North American Eeview. At night 
 he complained of chilliness, and the next morning was so ill that he was 
 
WILLIAM EOUEN OLIVER PEABODT. 497 
 
 unable to leave his bed ; though he dictated to his son, in the course of the 
 day, several pages of the review he was so anxious to complete. From 
 that time he was constantly sinking, and, on Friday the 28th of May, he 
 lost the power of speech, and seemed scarcely conscious of what was going* 
 on around him. On the evening of that day, his friend and neighbour, the 
 Rev. Dr. Osgood, visited him, and offered a prayer at his bedside, which 
 he evidently heard, and for which he endeavoured to express his thanks. 
 He continued a laboured respiration till near midnight, when he fell gently 
 into his final slumber. His Funeral was attended on the following Tues- 
 day, and a Sermon preached on the occasion by the Rev. Dr. Gannett, of 
 Boston, which was published. 
 
 Dr. Peabody was considerably known as a poet, though most of his poet- 
 ical effusions date back to an early period of his ministry. In 1823 he 
 published a, Poetical Catechism for the use of the Young, designed to 
 explain and enforce various religious duties. The work has long since 
 been out of print, but many of the pieces have been republished in other 
 forms. He wrote, occasionally, for some of the Annuals, and was, for 
 many years, a frequent contributor to the Christian Examiner, and espe- 
 cially to the North American Review. 
 
 The following is a list of his Occasional Sermons and Addresses : — 
 
 An Address delivered at Springfield before the Hampden Colonization 
 Society, 1828. A Sermon in the Liberal Preacher, 1831. An Address 
 to the Calvinistic Society in Springfield, 1831. A Sermon at the Annual 
 Election, 1833. A Sermon in the Liberal Preacher, 1833. A Sermon 
 on the Duty of those who dislike and dread the sentiments of other Chris- 
 tians, 1833. An Address at the Consecration of the Springfield Cemetery, 
 1841. A Discourse on the Death of John Abbot Emery, 1842. A Fa- 
 miliar Address, delivered at the Social Meeting of the members of the Lib- 
 eral Society, Springfield, 1843. 
 
 After Dr. Peabody's death, there was published a volume of his Ser- 
 mons, to which was prefixed a Blemoir of his life. 
 
 Dr. Peabody was my immediate neighbour for about nine years after his 
 settlement at Springfield ; and though my intercourse with him was not 
 very frequent, it was sufficient to give me considerable knowledge of his 
 character. He was remarkably urbane and courteous in his manners, 
 though, upon a slight acquaintance, he manifested some degree of reserve. 
 He was always modest, and rather disposed to keep in the back ground 
 than to obtrude himself upon the notice of others. He was, however, ex- 
 ceedingly agreeable as a companion, and would sometimes, by his wit and 
 brilliancy, become the life of a social circle. He was amiable, generous, 
 and ready to make sacrifices for the benefit of others. His manner in the 
 pulpit was too uniform to carry with it any great power, but his thoughts 
 on every subject were beautiful, and often strikingly original, and his style 
 was a model of graceful simplicity. I regarded him as one of the most 
 accomplished men with whom I was acquainted. When he came to Spring- 
 field, he came in the midst of a tempest which had well-nigh caused the 
 whole neighbourhood to rock; but the elements quickly subsided into a 
 calm, — the result, I doubt not, in a great measure, of the workings of his 
 gentle and peaceful spirit. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 32 
 
498 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM MISS MARGARET T. EMERY. 
 
 Springfield, October 16, 1852. 
 
 Dear Sir: I have found it difficult to fulfil my promise to you, from the 
 feeling that my words have so little power in conveying to you the recollec- 
 tions that throng upon me, — so vivid to my own mind, but so indistinct when 
 I endeavour to seize upon them for another. Our reasons for lamenting Dr. 
 Peabody are well expressed in the words of a far more powerful pen than 
 mine : — 
 
 " For talents mourn untimely lost, 
 
 " When best employed and wanted most, 
 
 " Mourn genius high and low profound, 
 
 " And wit that loved to play, not wound, 
 
 " With all the reasoning powers Divine, 
 
 " To penetrate, resolve, combine, 
 
 " And feelings keen and fancy's glow, 
 
 " They sleep with him who sleeps below." 
 
 He came, as you are aware, very young, to his people, and under some pecu- 
 liar disadvantages. Religious differences — no matter how honest they may be — 
 seem like that star from Heaven called "Wormwood, in their effect upon the 
 current of daily life. All his influence was used to hush the spirit of angry 
 contention which then prevailed; and with wha't effect may be inferred from 
 a letter published in his Memoirs from the Pastor of the church from which 
 his people seceded. 
 
 It was not common then for Unitarians to have more than the Sabbath ser- 
 vice; but he soon began to have Bible classes, or Sunday School teachers' 
 instruction. None of these measures seemed very effective, and they were, 
 after a while, discontinued. Early in the year 1838 he lost one of his most 
 valued parishioners, — » a man greatly beloved," who, penetrated with a deep 
 sense of eternal things, had entreated him to try meetings of a more familiar 
 character than the Sabbath service. He did so, and collected a few persons at 
 his own house. All these, as they entered, seemed to feel, from his manner, 
 that the place where they stood was holy ground. He began by addressing 
 them on the usefulness and necessity of association for worldly objects, and 
 urged them to try its advantages with regard to spiritual things. " But," 
 said he, " we cannot hope to he prospered in this, or any thing else, without 
 the blessing of God — Let us ask it now." He offered a deeply affecting 
 prayer, full of humble entreaties for spiritual aid, and then opened the Bible 
 at the third chapter of John, which he read and commented upon; at the 
 same time addressing his hearers on the absolute necessity of being born 
 again; of having those new views, desires, affections, in respect to spiritual 
 objects, which should he as a new birth to our souls. A hymn was then sung, 
 and the benediction pronounced. All appeared to feel like Jacob, brought 
 suddenly near to the gate of Heaven. No voice was heard in the usual tones 
 of conversation, but all seemed conferring in whispers of the great truths so 
 impressively presented. The meetings were, for a time, continued weekly at 
 his house, — afterwards at a small room in the church; and oh! how many 
 happy hours have we passed in that little upper chamber! Several from Dr. 
 Osgood's Society came to hear him, and the audience became so numerous that 
 the meetings were obliged to be held in the church, where they were continued 
 until he had completed his course of Lectures on the Gospels. The interest 
 taken by his people, the attendance of some whom he loved and respected from 
 the other Societies, and his growing delight in the subjects that occupied him, 
 all contributed to "freshen his soul's virtues into flower;" and he never 
 seemed so eloquent or so impressive as at this period. He used to say that he 
 felt as if the Sabbath hearers came partly from habit, or a sense of propriety 
 
WILLIAM BOURN OLIVER PEABODY. 499 
 
 but tli.it those who came to the lectures came only for the purpose of hearing 
 the word. 
 
 Some striking thoughts were preserved at the time by one of his hearers; 
 for the lectures were wholly extemporaneous. One evening, after speaking of 
 the miracle of raising the Widow's son, he observed that " the New Testament 
 writers chiefly applied the word < dead ' to those who were not alive to their 
 immortal interests," while they spoke of those whom we call dead only " as 
 sleeping in Jesus." He then observed that our Saviour was seen ascending to 
 Heaven, to comfort and encourage his disciples; but that He was still with us, 
 and working among us with a mightier power than that which raised Laza- 
 rus and the Widow's son from the dead. For they offered no resistance to his 
 will: the dead in trespasses and sins did resist Him when He would recall them 
 to a better life; and yet the mightier power of awakening them was still to be 
 seen among us. For instance, the form of sensuality with which we are most 
 familiar, — the path of ruin whence we see the fewest returning feet, — intem- 
 perance — where not only a man's habits, but his tastes, and inclinations, and 
 whole nature, were entirely changed, — was not this a greater miracle wrought 
 by the Son of God than that which called Lazarus from the dead ? He was 
 called, as we suppose, from a world of bliss to one of conflict and sorrow; but 
 he who is thus restored, even while in this world, passes from miser}' to hap- 
 piness." In another lecture, while speaking of our Saviour's tears at the 
 grave of Lazarus, he observed that << one reason why Jesus wept, might be 
 that his mission required Him to call Lazarus from the better world, to suffer 
 again the agonies of death, — the pangs of separation from those he loved, and 
 to undergo again the conflicts with sin and temptation, when he had believed 
 them at an end forever." 
 
 One thought which Dr. Peabody was accustomed to dwell much upon, was 
 that the Bible yields the richest nourishment to the human intellect; and 
 some of his unpublished lectures on the Old Testament were considered by 
 those who heard them as among his most powerful mental efforts. During the 
 latter part of his life, he kept an interleaved Bible, in which he was accus- 
 tomed to note down his own thoughts, and the thoughts of others, on various 
 passages of Scripture. It is to be regretted that these observations did not 
 extend beyond the four first books of the Old Testament. 
 
 All who have known anything of Dr. Peabody, are acquainted with the 
 peculiar sorrows of his later years. Heavily did they fall, notwithstanding 
 the sympathy of a most devoted flock. His sorrow had this alleviation too,- — ■ 
 the remembrance of the virtues of the departed. His wife was indeed taken 
 away in the midst of her usefulness; but many slaves restored to liberty and 
 its blessings, in the country of their fathers, had cause to bless her name; for 
 she was the main-spring of the Colonization Society in Springfield, and, after 
 her death, it flourished no more. His daughter, a most gifted creature, and 
 very like her father, had seemed, till her mother's death, wholly absorbed in 
 the things of this world; but the rock in Horeb was not more changed by that 
 stroke which disclosed the living waters, than she was by this sudden blast- 
 ing of some of her best earthly hopes. Then our dear Fanny stood, as it were, 
 transfigured before us for three short months, and, before the brightness of her 
 new life grew dim, was called, as we trust, to mingle with her departed 
 mother in nobler scenes. A devoted sister* still remained to Dr. Peabody, 
 who did not leave him till called, by a higher duty, to a distant land. There 
 she experienced the sorrows of widowhood, and received tidings of the death 
 of the brother with whom she had hoped again to find a home. Her remain- 
 ing brother looked to her as the light of his latter days; but alas! the grave 
 
 * Mrs. Alexander H. Everett. 
 
500 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 quickly claimed him also, and her fond affection for the living was turned into 
 bitter lamentation for the dead. 
 
 During the first year after Dr. Peabody's bereavement, meetings for chari- 
 table purposes were held at his house once a fortnight,— the time from six to 
 nine o'clock, p. it. There cases of distress were presented, and the kind and 
 degree of aid determined on; those who had recently come into the parish 
 were introduced; and Dr. P. greatly enjoyed this familiar intercourse with his 
 people. At nine o'clock, the dismission hymn was sung, and the evening 
 closed by prayer. These meetings were continued every winter as long as he 
 lived. 
 
 Dr. Peabody had the great satisfaction, during the time of sorrow which 
 closed the year 1843, of removing the only cloud which rested on the time hon- 
 oured name of John AVesley. He was enabled to do so, by a gentleman in 
 his parish, who, while he passed the winter of 1843-44 in Savannah, copied 
 many documents for the use of his Pastor, as he was writing the life of Ogle- 
 thorpe. Wesley's admirers well remember the ill-will he incurred, by refusing 
 to administer the Communion to a lady whom he had loved and thought of 
 marrying, but who had married another.* Wesley was greatly censured for 
 this step, which was imputed to a sort of revengeful jealousy. But there is 
 evidence in Sparks' American Biography (Life of Oglethorpe, pp. 314-325,) 
 that she lived in habitual sin, — that sin which strikes at the root of all do- 
 mestic happiness. Although he could have crushed her reputation at once, by 
 proclaiming the truth, he only did what his duty as a clergyman of the Church 
 of England required should be done. Dr. Peabody was thus enabled to do 
 justice to a character which he delighted to honour. 
 
 With all his parochial cares and his. valuable contributions to the periodi- 
 cal literature of the day, he found time to cheer and brighten domestic life by 
 the play of imagination and the sparklings of wit. He contributed to the 
 village newspaper, which his brother* edited in their earlier days, and once 
 drew up for it a burlesque account of a Fourth of Jul}' celebration in Free- 
 town,— a fancy name of course. The most humorous part being omitted, 
 being too like, Oliver said, to what actually took place in their village, it was 
 considered a true bill, and some newspaper sympathy was wasted on the ven- 
 erable Colonel Tarbox, one of those who fought, bled and died at Bunker Hill. 
 " It will be gratifying to hear that the evening of his life is made comfortable 
 by a pension of a pistareen a month, bestowed by his grateful country." 
 This elicited sundry phillipics on the ingratitude of republics. 
 
 To the friends of the brothers it would seem as unnatural to speak of one 
 without the other, as to divide the Gemini on the celestial globe. So like in 
 person as to be sometimes mistaken for each other, even by the parishioners and 
 children of William Peabody, they were no less alike in mind and feeling. It 
 has even been said that both loved the beautiful woman of whom William was 
 the successful wooer. Oliver was William in good spirits; and it was won- 
 derful to see how he preserved those spirits through a long season of uncon- 
 genial occupation and a life of loneliness. Yet his heart found no rest till, like 
 
 * Oliver William Bourn Peabody, twin brother of the subject of this sketch, -was grad- 
 uated at Harvard College in 1817, and subsequently practised Law for a number of years in 
 Exeter, N. H., during which time he edited the Rockingham Gazette and Exeter News Letter, 
 and, in 1822, removed to Boston, where he co-operated with his brother-in-law, Mr. Alex- 
 ander H. Everett, in the editorship of the North American Review. At the same time, he 
 was, for several years, assistant editor of the Boston Daily Advertiser. In 1842 he accepted 
 the Professorship of English literature in Jefferson College, Louisiana, hoping that his health 
 might be benefitted by a residence in a milder climate. Failing in this he returned to Boston, 
 and, in 1845, in accordance with a long cherished desire, he was licensed to preach by the 
 Boston (Unitarian) Association. He soon after became the minister of a congregation in 
 Burlington, Vt., and continued in that relation till his death, which occurred on the 5th of 
 July, 1847. 
 
WILLIAM BOURN OLIVER PEABODY. 501 
 
 the wandering sparrow of old, he made his home << at thine altar, my God;" 
 and then he seemed to compress more labour in his eleventh hour than many 
 perform through the live-long day. While he joined in the usual topics of 
 conversation with the greatest courtesj', it was observable that his face only 
 brightened, while he spoke of the things that belong to our everlasting 
 peace, — of the happiness of that service which now made his life dear to him. 
 The gentlemen of the University in Burlington recognized in him a, fellow 
 labourer, though known by a different name from theirs, and his eyes would 
 glisten while he spoke of the Christian courtesy they extended to him. The 
 poor suffering Catholics, in whom he had been deeply interested, followed 
 their friend to the grave with tears, and his people lamented him as with the 
 sorrow of a household bereavement. His was so true and enlarged a charity 
 that he felt, almost as an injury to himself, any remarks directed against 
 those whose religious opinions differed from his own, but whom he regarded 
 as true followers of Christ; and would probably have answered, as his brother 
 did, when asked to define his religious sentiments, — << anti-sectarian." 
 
 It is rare that two so closely united, so highly gifted, and so deeply la- 
 mented, are thus called from their earthly service in the full maturity of life. 
 I love to think of them as they were in the days of their pilgrimage, and I 
 would fain walk in the still lingering light of their example, so far as they 
 imitated our gracious and condescending Lord. 
 
 Very sincerely your friend, 
 
 MARGARET T. EMERY. 
 
 FROM THE HON. WILLIAM B. CALHOUN, 
 
 MEHBEK OF CONGRESS, &C. 
 
 Sfbingfield, December 25, 1860. 
 
 My dear Sir: The recollections of the late Dr. Peabody, to a brief account 
 of which you invite me, are of a very gratifying character. I recur to them 
 often with much satisfaction. He was, in very man)' respects, quite an uncom- 
 mon man; — one, who ought not to be forgotten, though it was certainly never 
 his aim to do any thing with a special view to being himself personally 
 remembered. Differing much in our religious opinions, especially in the early 
 part of his career, I yet always saw in him the strongest evidence of "great 
 purity, sincerity and conscientiousness. 
 
 Rarely, I believe, has a clergyman ever acquired so entirely the affections 
 of his parishioners as in his case. He came amongst them a stranger, but he 
 won their hearts at once, without the slightest effort on his part. Every 
 thing about Dr. Peabody was natural; all affectation was evidently most repul- 
 sive to him. This did not arise from the negative virtue of amiableness; for 
 he had great decision, and an unhesitating, though quiet, steadfastness of 
 purpose. In his manners he was exceedingly unobtrusive, and at the same 
 time very affable, conciliating, kind and courteous. But his manners alone 
 would never have sustained him in the hold he had obtained on the strong 
 attachment of his people. The uncommon resources of a highly cultivated 
 mind gave stability to his character, and strengthened the grasp the first impres- 
 sion had gained for him. His attainments were very extensive in the whole 
 range of knowledge. On whatever subject that chanced to be made the topic 
 of conversation, he was sure to shed light. His conversational powers were 
 of a high order — not put forth with display; not by assuming to lead; not by 
 chancing, as many do, the practice of conversation into the practice of oratory, 
 and making a forum of the fireside, — but by his ability readily to draw upon 
 his well-arranged resources, under the lead of a memory of singular capacious- 
 ness and tenacity. He had no mannerism; no stock of anecdotes, or illustra- 
 
502 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 tions, or historical references, ever ready to be artificially paraded. What he 
 uttered was just that which constituted the attraction: the utterance itself 
 was far from being always attractive, at least in the meaning which the world 
 usually gives to that term. His voice was feeble; and there were peculiarities 
 in the sounds of some letters, as enunciated by him, which rendered what he 
 said, in and out of the pulpit, somewhat repulsive to strangers, but to 
 strangers only. 
 
 In his pulpit performances there was nothing startling or commanding; he 
 didj not captivate his auditors, in the proper sense of that word; what 
 attracted them was the meekness and humbleness of his devotion, and a deep 
 and simple heartiness in the announcement of carefully matured thoughts. 
 His mind was under very effective and thorough discipline, and advanced 
 steadily in the processes of improvement. He read much; but, I think, he 
 studied more without than with books. He was a very watchful observer, 
 and nothing escaped him without being well understood. In the preparation 
 of his sermons he was accustomed to give to his thoughts the finished dress he 
 intended for them, before putting pen to paper. The mere writing of a ser- 
 mon was therefore a very brief operation. His great memory and his mental 
 discipline gave him this important facility in all his intellectual work. 
 
 He possessed far more than ordinary powers of imagination and wit; hut 
 they were subjected b} r him to a very steady and judicious control. He 
 indulged himself less in the writing of poetry than, from the character of his 
 acknowledged productions, might be deemed desirable, — especially when so 
 much of doubtful pretension, or rather of mere pretension, burdens and wearies 
 the press and the reader. Some of the specimens of his poetic power are of a 
 very high order, and hold their place by the side of the best productions of 
 American genius. His wit was very keen and very significant, — all the more 
 so from the quietness and naturalness of its play. The exercise of it was 
 known only to those who were familiar with him; for he curbed the propen- 
 sity with great strenuousness. 
 
 He had many eminent qualifications for the office of a Preacher. He was a 
 devout man. Indeed, his soul was singularly attuned to devotion. His tem- 
 perament — so to speak — led him to cherish a spirit of religiousness. In his 
 bearing and demeanour he was grave; his personal appearance was imposing; 
 and soberness of thought greatly characterized him. He was comprehensive 
 in all his views. His mind was large; his heart was large and generous. His 
 opinions of Christian truth were formed and held by him very independently; 
 and he modified them, from time to time, in accordance with the deeper deduc- 
 tions of his mind, and the increasing religiousness of his spirit. He was 
 unwilling to bear the baptism of any denomination, and often repudiated the 
 sectarian name. 
 
 He had very little of worldly-mindedness; and the care of worldly things 
 did not sit upon him at all easily. The partner of his life was, as he himself 
 called her, the queen of his heart. And she cared for him and his with the 
 spirit and energy of a true woman. When, in the providence of God, she was 
 withdrawn from earthly scenes, that cloud descended upon him which was 
 never lifted till he himself passed away under its overshadowing. Remarka- 
 ble as were the qualities which fitted Dr. Peabody for his sacred functions, it 
 may yet be doubted whether this was, after all, his appropriate sphere. His 
 numerous contributions to the North American Review are the index, as they 
 certainly are the monument, of the man. His fine taste, his fondness for lit- 
 erary pursuits, his devotedness to study, and the strong interest he felt in 
 various branches of natural science, all point in one direction. He was no 
 polemic; nor was he entirely at home in what pertains strictly to the pastoral 
 care. He was a man to be admired and loved in any situation; but the quiet 
 
WILLIAM BOURN OLIVER PEABODY. 503 
 
 walks of literature were singularly adapted to bis tastes and temperament, 
 and to whatever of ambition he possessed, if indeed he possessed any. 
 
 Such is a very condensed view of the characteristic traits of Dr. Peabody, 
 as he rises up before me now. I only add that, in the ordinary intercourse 
 of social life in the community, where his days were mostly passed, he was 
 held uniformly in the highest estimation. 
 
 With great and sincere respect, 
 
 I am your obedient servant, 
 
 W. B. CALHOUN. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL OSGOOD, D. D. 
 
 Springfield, September 21, 1859. 
 My dear Brother: You are well aware that the Society of which Dr. Pea- 
 body was Pastor consisted originally of a secession from my own, and was 
 formed on the ground of a difference of religious opinion. As the formation 
 of the Society was both preceded and followed by considerable conflicts of 
 opinion and feeling, which did not immediately subside, it was not to be 
 expected that the intercourse between myself and the new Pastor should at 
 once become intimate; and yet, from the beginning, our relations were never 
 otherwise than friendly, and I never had occasion to suspect him of the least 
 departure from fair and honourable dealing, even under the greatest pressure 
 of circumstances. As the asperities of controversy died away in the sur- 
 rounding community, our acquaintance gradually ripened into an intimate 
 friendship, and, during much the larger part of his pastorate, we were not 
 only in the most pleasant and cordial relations, but were, in many respects, 
 mutual auxiliaries in sustaining and carrying forward many good objects and 
 interests. 
 
 Dr. Peabodj"- was, in early life, tall and slender in form, though he grew 
 large in his later years. His countenance was naturally of a sedate cast, 
 though it had nothing of sternness, and easily relaxed into a pleasant smile. 
 His manners were exceedingly quiet, but kindly and affable; and his whole 
 demeanour, both in public and private, well fitted to conciliate regard. He 
 had what 3 r ou might call a remarkably fair mind; he was eminently free both 
 from prejudice and guile; he had a vein of keen wit, and sometimes used it to 
 the amusement of his friends; but, I believe, never to the injury of anybody. 
 His spirit was uncommonly gentle and refined, and was much better adapted 
 to quiet contemplation or to refined society than to the bustle of public life, 
 and especially the excitement and turmoil often attendant on religious contro- 
 versy. He was singularly cautious and discreet in all his intercourse, while 
 yet he was as far as possible from any thing like disingenuousness or finesse. 
 His intellectual character may be said, in rather an unusual degree, to have 
 taken on the form of genius — he was ready, graceful, inventive, and often very 
 striking; and many of the productions of his pen, both in poetry and in 
 prose, attracted great attention in their day, and have already taken a prom- 
 inent place in our American literature. He wrote very extensively for several 
 periodicals, especially the North American Review; indeed, if I am correctly 
 informed, he had, at the time of his death, contributed nearly or quite as 
 many articles to this work as any other person; and this fact, of itself, formed 
 a most honourable testimony to his intellectual and literary character. 
 
 Dr. Peabody's religious views did not appear to me to be very clearly 
 defined, and I am inclined to think that there were some points of doctrine 
 upon which he thought it safer to remain in doubt than to endeavour to reach 
 any very exact conclusion. That he did not acknowledge the doctrine of the 
 Trinity in our view of it is certain; and I am inclined to think that the 
 
504 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Sabellian system was more in favour with him than any other. But, in 
 respect to the Atonement, I never could discover that there was any difference 
 between his views and my own — he seemed fully and cordially to recognize 
 the death of Christ as the only foundation of a sinner's hope. I have a decided 
 impression that his convictions on this subject became stronger, and the gen. 
 eral type of his opinions more evangelical, during the latter years of his min- 
 istry. 
 
 It was my lot to see Dr. Peabody several times in the furnace of affliction. 
 I was with him at the time of the death of an infant child, of his wife, and of 
 a, grown up and lovely daughter; and in each case it gives me pleasure to say 
 that he behaved in a manner indicating the most profound submission to God's 
 will, and a cordial trust in his providence. After the death of his daughter 
 particularly, and while his heart was yet bleeding under the rod, he expressed 
 himself in regard to the character and government of God in language that 
 seemed to me to exhibit the very sublimity of filial confidence. In each case 
 in which death invaded his family, he reqested me to perform the Funeral ser- 
 vice; and when, in one instance, I intimated to him that I supposed it might 
 be more pleasant to have some one of his friends from Boston, he replied, — 
 "Not if you are willing to officiate." And then added, with much feeling, 
 that his wife, already departed, had expressed a kindly estimate of my min- 
 istry, and had always gladly attended upon it whenever their own church was 
 closed. 
 
 My recollections of Dr. Peabody, as you perceive, are altogether of the most 
 grateful kind; and it gives me pleasure to place them on enduring record. 
 Contrary to what might have been anticipated from the circumstances under 
 which we were originally brought together, we became cordial and confiding 
 friends; and though, to the last, I doubt not that he held some views that I 
 deemed erroneous, and against which I should 1 enter an earnest protest, I can 
 trul}' say that I was a hearty mourner at his death, and am still glad to do 
 any thing in honour of his memory. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 S. OSGOOD. 
 
 JOHN BRAZER, D. D. 
 
 1820 — 1846 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL GILMAN, D. D. 
 
 Charleston, S. C. December 8. 1848. 
 
 My dear Sir : You ask me to contribute to your work some recollections 
 of the late Rev. Dr. John Brazer. My acquaintance with that gentleman 
 commenced in 1817, when we were associated in the Faculty of govern- 
 ment and instruction at Harvard University ; for, although we had been, for 
 some time, undergraduates together, yet, preceding him in college standing 
 by two years, I have no very distinct reminiscence of his person or char- 
 acter during that period, except of the undisputed pre-eminence in schol- 
 arship which he had among his class. 
 
 John Brazer was born in Worcester, Mass., about the year 1787, and 
 cherished, from his tonderest youth, a strong passion for learning ; but, 
 
JOHN BRAZER. 505 
 
 the circumstances of his family not permitting him to share the advantages 
 of a liberal education at as early an age as most of his contemporaries, he 
 was compelled to engage in mercantile pursuits until the period of his ma- 
 jority. Then, with scarcely any pecuniary resources, he indulged the irre- 
 sistible bent of his inclination ; prepared for Harvard University in an in- 
 credibly short time, entered that institution with brilliant success, led the 
 van of scholarship in a class of considerable magnitude, and graduated 
 with the first honour in the year 1813. He was afterwards accustomed to 
 express his wonder how he had ever been able to complete his college 
 course, since, at its close, he found himself indebted to his friends for nearly 
 all the expenses of his education. 
 
 He was appointed Latin Tutor in the University one year before taking 
 his regular Master's degree. In 1817 Levi Frisbie, a name dear to the 
 scholars of his own generation, and even now, descending, gratefully em- 
 balmed, and with a freshness scarcely at all impaired, to those of the 
 succeeding, relinquished the Latin Professorship, which had itself been 
 instituted with express reference to his eminent personal merits. He was 
 transferred to the new chair of Alford Professor of Moral Philosophy, 
 which, for five years, preceding his death, he adorned with a felicity of 
 analysis, and a charm of eloquence, rarely surpassed. Mr. Brazer became 
 the immediate successor of Professor Frisbie in the Latin chair. On my 
 entrance, about that time, upon a different department of instruction, he 
 welcomed me with a ready warmth of intimacy, which continued to in- 
 crease during the remainder of our academical joint career, and was never 
 interrupted save by the wide separation of our respective spheres of labour, 
 and finally by his death in South Carolina in 1846. 
 
 Mr. Brazer's earlier determination was for the profession of the Law. 
 He devoted, I think, the three years, after receiving his first degree, to a 
 preparation for its duties. But, induced, as I have heard him remark, 
 principally by the advice and persuasion of President Kirkland, he resolved 
 on commencing the study of Theology with a view to the sacred desk. 
 Every circumstance concurred to admit of a very leisurely prosecution of 
 his newly chosen pursuit. He had just entered on a somewhat kindred 
 situation, of commanding literary eminence, as well as of immediate and 
 palpable usefulness. His uncommon abilities and brilliant reputation 
 seemed to secure him, in advance, the choice of any eligible vacancies that 
 might occur in the neighbouring pulpits. The Libraries of the University 
 presented large opportunities for the indulgence of his literary tastes, 
 ■while society, both in Cambridge and in Boston, lent its highest attrac- 
 tions to his genial disposition. 
 
 He threw himself with ardour on this stream of splendid advantages 
 which Providence rolled at his feet. He grasped ambitiously at a very wide 
 extent of mental cultivation. Classical Literature, Philology, History, 
 Poetry and Philosophy, divided but not distracted the attention which he 
 duteously paid to Theology. If the old Entrance-Records of the Univer- 
 sity Librarian are still in existence, and accessible to the curious in such 
 matters, the books detained at any given time by Mr. Brazer would be 
 found unprecedented in number and variety, indicating the multifarious 
 nature of his pursuits. His favourite method of study, however, was 
 
506 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 rather the thorough investigation of subjects than the copious perusal of 
 volumes. His examination of every matter that came before him was 
 faithful and profound, his conception of it distinct and vivid. Although 
 mostly inclined to ethical and metaphysical speculations, yet he was famili- 
 arly acquainted with the new discoveries in Physical Philosophy, and I well 
 remember, for instance, the accuracy and fulness with which he explained 
 to the uninitiated the then recent researches of chemists into the polarity 
 of light. All who were at any time his pupils in the Latin department, 
 will agree, I think, with me in ascribing to him a perfection of taste, and a 
 ripeness of scholarship, which left nothing to be desired in that range of 
 his duty. 
 
 His passionate avidity for acquiring and digesting information, together 
 with the arduous demands of his office, precluded Mr. Brazer, at this period, 
 from any elaborate exercises in composition. The North American Re- 
 view, then in its 'infancy, was the nursery where the rising talent of the 
 country fledged its adventurous power; but if he were the author of any 
 of its articles, while a teacher in the University, the fact was either never 
 known to me, or it has faded from my memory. He was engaged in de- 
 positing large stores in his mind, to be brought forth at subsequent oppor- 
 tunities. I remember, however, his employing his pen with much felicity 
 on one occasion, as an act of devoted reverence and friendship. Both the 
 parties concerned being now at repose in the grave, no confidence will be 
 violated by referring to the circumstance, even if it was entrusted to me as 
 a secret, — a fact of which I am not aware. Professor Hedge, who united 
 to a rigorous discharge and exaction of duty a childlike amiableness of 
 disposition, all of which combined to secure him the life-long respect and 
 love of every one of his pupils, was on the eve of publishing his Treatise on 
 Logic. Desirous of introducing it to the world by a compact and grace- 
 ful preface, he applied for assistance to Professor Brazer, his recent pupil, 
 who readily afforded it. That portion of the volume was accordingly writ- 
 ten by him. It presents a neat sketch of the merits and defects of pre- 
 ceding systems of Logic, and points out the distinguishing aims of the work 
 thus ushered into notice. This anecdote illustrates, better than a laboured 
 paragraph could do, the elevated standing held by Mr. Brazer among those 
 who were best acquainted with his powers, accomplishments and obliging 
 disposition. 
 
 Mr. Brazer was one of the chief agents in effecting a transition from the 
 severe and ceremonial academical government of the olden time to an inter- 
 course with the pupils more courteous and winning, which should inspire 
 them with immediate love and regard, instead of constraining their respect 
 and awe. He was the bosom friend of Dr. Kirkland, at that time the 
 beloved Head of the institution, whose very presence, it has been happily 
 said, was a benediction, and whose maxims of government leaned altogether 
 on the indulgent side. Besides being the idol of his equals in age, and the 
 delight of the old, Dr. Kirkland was remarkable for seeking and securing 
 the friendship of young men with as much zest as if he himself had been 
 still in the morning of life. His intimacy with Mr. Brazer was indulged 
 to an uncommon extent, insomuch that he would receive advice, and even 
 rebukes, from him, which he would not willingly endure from many other 
 
• JOHN BRAZER. 507 
 
 men. Heartily and successfully did these two friends concur in achieving 
 a revolution to a blander and more natural order of things than had for- 
 merly marked the intercourse between the Faculty and their pupils. Per- 
 haps the new policy verged sometimes to an untoward opposite extreme. 
 Paternal benignity was the desiderated happy medium ; but the critical 
 experiment of treating altogether as "gentlemen" lads who had not yet 
 even arrived at that nice stage of physiological development, was produc- 
 tive, as it always will be, of some disconcerting conjunctures. 
 
 Personally, however, Mr. Brazer experienced little or no inconvenience 
 from his indulgent principles of administration. It is well known that to 
 each class in College was assigned a particular Tutor, who was understood 
 to be. the special adviser and friend of its members, individually and collec- 
 tively considered. This arrangement was irrespective of his allotted branch 
 of instruction. The custom is very probably still observed. A relation 
 like this almost invariably produced a warm attachment between the par- 
 ties, amounting sometimes to a romantic or fantastic sort of fondness. Mr. 
 Brazer continued to sustain the same position to his class after he was 
 appointed Professor; and I presume that no class ever carried the feeling 
 of adoration for their Tutor quite to the extent which was manifested by 
 these young men to their's. 
 
 Notwithstanding these fervent academical labours and studies, he yielded 
 himself liberally to the relaxations of social enjoyment. Two or three 
 times in the week, he was expected to grace the evening parties in Boston, 
 but surrendered to them no more of his time or attention than was suffi- 
 cient to bring him back with fresh elasticity to his books. Vividly also on 
 my memory descend those glorious Sunday evenings, when he regularly 
 met, at the President's house, his brethren of the Faculty, with other gen- 
 tlemen of the neighbourhood, and engaged in those discussions on subjects 
 of profound interest and importance, which the all-suggesting mind of our 
 accomplished host at once challenged and guided. More pleasant still is 
 the remembrance of those Saturday evening or Sunday morning excursions, 
 which he sometimes made with me to the surrounding towns, passing his 
 Sabbaths there when I preached as a candidate for the ministry, and 
 favouring me with the benefit of his friendly criticisms and advice. In his 
 conversation there was a brilliancy and fascination with which few are 
 ever gifted. He coupled exceeding fluency with an exquisite choice of 
 expression, and his words rolled out from his flexible organs of speech, 
 like glistening coin from an affluent mint. His person was small but finely 
 turned and moulded, and on whatever was said or done by him a natural 
 grace attended. In all his tastes he was fastidious and epicurean, acutely 
 suffering from the slightest real or imaginary neglect, and betraying some- 
 thing for friendship to forgive, which, indeed, he could fairly claim, as his 
 own heart was itself loving and forgiving. t 
 
 But the secluded shades of academic life could not long detain him. 
 He passed through their attractive accompaniments towards his sacred des- 
 tination, and a closer contact with practical life. In 1820 he accepted an 
 invitation to the Pastorship of the North Church in Salem, Mass., one of 
 the most prominent ecclesiastical stations in the Commonwealth, and about 
 the same time declined a call from the then new Unitarian Church in New 
 
508 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 York. His immediate predecessor, John Emery Abbot, a finely endowed 
 and lovely spirit, Lad acquired an enviable celebrity in the churches by a 
 short but remarkable life; and, therefore, the satisfaction of the congre- 
 gation with the new connection indicated well the high standing and pro- 
 mise of his successor. Dr. Brazer (for he received the degree of Doctor 
 of Divinity from Harvard College in 1836) laboured with unintermitting 
 assiduity till the close of his life. His predominant object and aim were 
 to conduct with acceptance and spiritual profit the immediate offices of liis 
 church. A few productions, the result of occasional intervals from his 
 more regular occupations, appeared, from time to time, in the most respect, 
 able periodicals. As an unquestionable testimony to his literary ability, 
 a notable anecdote may here be properly recorded. Having, a few years 
 ago, published two elaborate and interesting articles in the Christian Exam- 
 iner on "Ancient Modes of Burial of the Dead," a subject which is every 
 day growing more practical and popular in our country, he discovered, a 
 year or two after, that the whole of those articles, word for woi'd, with all 
 their quotations, which had cost liim months of primary research, and all 
 their adorning illustrations, which were furnished by his fine and fertile 
 genius, had been transferred, without acknowledgment, as an original 
 paper, to the pages of some British periodical, — an organ, I think, of the 
 Church of England. The circumstance was generally mentioned at the 
 time by the American press, but the name of Dr. Brazer, as connected 
 with it, may have escaped attention or remembrance. The latest of his 
 literary efforts, published during his life time, was, I believe, a review of 
 Mill's remarkable Treatise on Logic, — a work which, I need not say, found 
 an adequate critic in Dr. Brazer. 
 
 The object, however, of his highest literary ambition was the reputation 
 of a profound, accomplished and impressive sermonizer ; — an object which 
 he achieved and sustained to the last, according to the warmest wish of his 
 heart. Not only did all those who attended his ministrations acknowledge 
 that, while his language enchained their attention, his thoughts stirred up 
 within them the deepest and most sacred principles of their being, but it 
 was also regarded as a privilege, by his clerical brethren, at the Ordina- 
 tions of ministers and other occasional solemnities, to listen to his striking 
 and comprehensive expositions of doctrine and of duty. His mind was imbued 
 ■with the highest style of scholarship and of thinking incident to the present 
 century. His spirit brooded over a subject with a kind of plastic power, 
 moulded it into shape, gave it, as it were, an organic life, called out its 
 interior essence, and brought its relations and proportions into full yet com- 
 pact view, until it stood forth an individual, living whole. Look, for an 
 illustration of this criticism, at his published essay on the Apparent Dark- 
 ness of God's Providence ; or that on the Efficacy of Prayer ; or that on 
 the Influences»of the Holy Spirit ; or that on the Ancient Cemeteries ; or 
 his Discourse at Mr. Cole's Ordination. The first of these, on Providence, 
 is one of the few I have ever known, which, like Dewey's on Death, or 
 Kobert Hall's on Infidelity, or Beecher's Discourses on Intemperance, or 
 Channing's Dudleian Lecture, exert on the reader a telling and palpable 
 effect. I have frequently placed it in the hands of the children of afflic- 
 tion and adversity, who have confessed that its perusal acted like a charm 
 
JOHN BRAZER. 509 
 
 on their bewildered spirits, and restored them to the calmness and the light 
 for which they had been struggling in vain. A posthumous volume of his 
 discourses has just appeared in Boston, which I have not yet seen. 
 
 Dr. Brazer's manner in the pulpit was the extreme of simplicity, avoid- 
 ing, generally, even the aid of a gesture, and depending chiefly for its 
 effect on the weight and pertinence of his matter, and the power of his fine 
 and impressive enunciation. In short, he must be ranked, by a discerning 
 posterity, among the most eminent lights of the Boston clergy, both the 
 proximity of his station, and the wealth, refinement, and cultivation of his 
 flock, placing him in the catalogue and predicament of that distinguished 
 body of men. Owing, probably, to the very exacting requirements of 
 their position, numbers from this clerical eirolo died in the prime of life, 
 and many more, like the friend I am commemorating, lingered, it is true, 
 until a later period, but were prematurely summoned away, without round- 
 ing and filling their apparent earthly destii)}'. In his case, the catastrophe 
 was no doubt hastened by the loss, a few years previous, of his wife, one 
 of the noblest daughters of New England, and who had long shared with 
 him the task of unusual attentions to the poor in their vicinity. His fail, 
 ing health, which now, more than ever, required her tender care, was itself 
 burdened with double responsibilities at home and abroad, and the wound, 
 thus aggravated, never entirely ceased its thi'obbings until they were 
 quieted in death. 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1846, after having contended long with an 
 inveterate disease, he visited South Carolina, in company with one of his 
 sons, who was then a student in Harvard College. One of Dr. Brazer's 
 early friends and classmates, Dr. Benjamin Huger, had urged him to ex- 
 change for a season the searching snows and winds of the North for his 
 own hospitable residence at a plantation on Cooper Kiver. How beautiful 
 is this influence of academical institutions, that they thus weave around 
 congenial souls a chainwork of affection and attachment, which often seems 
 to gather strength, in spite of the changing hair, or distance of abode, or 
 difference in pursuits, relations and cherished principles ! Dr. Brazer 
 tarried a few days in Charleston on his way to the residence of his friend. 
 Here he revived a few ancient intimacies, and acquired a few (but how 
 brief !) friendships. Although yielding daily to his encroaching disorder, 
 he seemed more anxious that his son should enjoy the full benefit and 
 pleasure of the tour, than that he himself should be relieved from suffering. 
 He attended religious worship at the church where I officiate, and, with 
 weeping sensibility, partook of the memorials at the Lord's Supper. His 
 constitution was so palpably shattered that I had avoided oppressing him 
 with a request to take any part in the services. He afterwards repeatedly 
 reproached himself for not volunteering to assist me, and said, — " Oh ! 
 why did I not at least come forward, and utter something by your side at 
 the table ? " It would have been wrong, however, to expect even so slight 
 an effort, and his physicians had forbidden every thing like publip speaking 
 in his existing state of debility. I therefore soothed him by promising 
 that I would rely on his assistance at his return in the spring. He de- 
 parted for the plantation with some apparent cheerfulness and elasticity of 
 spirit, but indulging, I think, scarcely any hope. The iuroads of his dis- 
 
510 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 order, instead of being delayed by change of scene, became fearfully rapid. 
 For a brief interval, his sinking powers rallied in response to affecting at- 
 tentions and hospitalities, which were poured in upon him from the neigh- 
 bourhood around. Even the last quivering flames, that shot up from the ex- 
 piring taper, revealed to attendant strangers the lustre of his social and 
 conversational qualities. But the destroyer was close in at his work. 
 Medical skill and assiduous attention were lavished in vain, and on the next 
 Monthly Communion Day, after he had worshipped in my Church, I preached 
 an Obituary Discourse on his life and character, in presence of a number 
 of his ancient friends and classmates, accompanied by others who had been 
 inspired with a melancholy interest in his person and destiny. 
 
 Dr. Brazer was married in April, 1821, to Anne Warren, a daughter of 
 William and Mary (Chandler) Sever, of Worcester. They had five chil- 
 dren, all of whom survived their father. Mrs. Brazer died on the 30th of 
 January, 1843. 
 
 The following is, I believe, a correct list of Dr. Brazer's publications: — 
 A Discourse before the Society for the Promotion of Christian Education 
 in Harvard University, 1825. A Discourse at the Interment of Edward 
 Augustus Holyoke, M. D. LL, D., 1829. Power of Unitarianism over the 
 Affections, (a Tract of the American Unitarian Association, 1st series, No. 
 27,) 1829. A Discourse at the Ordination of the Rev. Jonathan Cole, at 
 Kingston, 1829. Biographical Memoir of Edward Augustus Holyoke, 
 (appended to a collection of his writings,) 1830. A Sermon on the Value 
 of the Public Exercises of our Religion, (Liberal Preacher, New Series, 
 Vol. I, No. 2,) 1832. The Efficacy of Prayer, (in the Unitarian Advo- 
 cate,) 1832. A Discourse at the Installation of the Rev. Andrew Bigelow, 
 1833. A Review of the Argument in support of Natural Religion : 
 Dudleian Lecture, 1835. Duty and Privilege of an Active Benevolence: 
 Address before the Seamen's Widow and Orphan Association, 1835. Essay 
 on the Doctrine of Divine Influence on the Human Soul, 1835. Lesson 
 of the Past: A Sermon on the Anniversary of his Ordination, 1837. In- 
 troduction to " A Good Life," by Thomas Wright, 1837. The Present 
 Darkness of God's Providence: a Sermon, 1841. A Discourse on the 
 Death of the Hon. Benjamin Pickman, 1843. Notice of a " Collection 
 of Hymns for the Christian Church and Home," by the Rev. James Flint, 
 (in the Monthly Bliscellany,) 1843. A Discourse on the Life and Char- 
 acter of the Hon. Leverett Saltonstall, with Biographical Notices, 1845. 
 A Volume of Sermons, with a Memoir published after his death, 1849. 
 Besides, Dr. Brazer was a frequent contributor to the North American 
 Review and the Christian Examiner, and it has been thought that some of 
 these articles displayed more culture, learning and ability than any of his 
 separate publications. 
 
 When, nearly thirty years ago, I left the Tutorship in Harvard College 
 for my present field of labour, my friend put into my hand, as a partiug 
 testimonial, a neat Elzevir edition of Juvenal and Persius, — inscribing iu 
 it, beneath his name, the affectionate injunction from the close of the third 
 Satire, vale, nostri memor. I complied with it faithfully while he lived, and 
 now that he is dead, I am glad that you have conferred on me the singularly 
 coincident, unexpected and grateful privilege of rendering it a more fixed 
 and outstanding obedience. Yours with all regard, S. GILMAN. 
 
WILLIAM WARE. 511 
 
 WILLIAM WARE* 
 
 1820 — 1852. 
 
 William Ware was born at Hingham, Mass., on the 3d of August, 
 1797. His father, the Kev. Henry Ware, D. D., was, at that time, the 
 minister of the Congregational Society in that place, and his mother, Mary 
 Clark, was a daughter of the Kev. Jonas Clark, of Lexington. Dr. Ware, 
 being chosen in 1805 to the Hollis Professorship of Divinity in Harvard 
 College, removed to Cambridge. His sou William was fitted for College, 
 partly at Cambridge, under the instruction of his cousin, the Hon. Ashur 
 Ware, afterwards Judge of the District Court of the United States for the 
 District of Maine, and partly under that of the Kev. Dr. Allyn, of Dux- 
 bury. He entered College in 1812, and was graduated in 1816. 
 
 The next year after his graduation he spent at Hingham, as an assistant 
 in a school to the Rev. Henry Colman, Dr. Ware's successor in the minis- 
 try in that place ; and, at the same time, was prosecuting theological studies 
 under Mr. Column, of whose family he was an inmate. The next three 
 years he spent at Cambridge, still engaged in the study of his profession, 
 but, being employed, during part of the time, in teaching the town school, 
 and subsequently as assistant to Mr. Norton, who was then the College 
 Librarian. He commenced preaching in 1820, performing his first public 
 services at Northborough ; and, from this time, he was constantly engaged 
 in the labours of his vocation, preaching in various places, principally, how- 
 ever, in Brooklyn, Conn., Burlington, Vt., and the city of New York. In 
 the two last mentioned places he was invited to settle, and he actually 
 accepted a call from New York, and was ordained as Pastor of the first 
 Unitarian church ever established in that city, (then worshiping in Cham- 
 bers Street,) on the 18th of December, 1821. His labours in New York 
 were very arduous, as there was no Unitarian clergyman in the city, or 
 indeed in the whole region, from whom he could receive occasional assist- 
 ance. 
 
 In March, 1836, he commenced, in the Knickerbocker Magazine, the 
 publication of the " Letters from Palmyra," which subsequently appeared 
 in a volume under the title of " Zenobia." In October of the same year, 
 he resigned his charge, and removed to Brookline, Mass., where he passed 
 the ensuing winter, dividing his time between preaching and completing 
 the work just referred to. In June, 1837, he removed to Waltham, hav- 
 ing accepted an invitation frem the Second Congregational Church in that 
 place to supply their pulpit. Here he continued till April, 1838, when 
 the church to which he had temporarily ministered was united with the 
 older church in that place, then under the pastoral care of the Rev. Samuel 
 Ripley. Mr. Ware then removed to Jamaica Plain, where he purchased 
 a small farm, on which he indulged his rural tastes, preaching frequently, 
 though without any stated charge. A part of his time also he devoted to 
 writing the sequel of Zenobia, (now known as (' Aurelian,") which was 
 
 * Christian Examiner, Vol. 52. — Ms. from Dr. John Ware. 
 
512 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 published under the title of " Probus," in June, 1838. About this time, 
 he became the proprietor and editor of the Christian Examiner, which 
 remained in his hands until 1844. In July, 1839, he removed to Cain- 
 bridge, and besides his editorial labours, was engaged in the preparation 
 of a new work of fiction, a part of which appeared in the Christian Exam- 
 iner, and was subsequently published under the title of " Julian : or Scenes 
 of Judea," in two volumes, in October, 1841. 
 
 In January, 1844, having terminated his connection with the Christian 
 Examiner, Mr. Ware received am! accepted an invitation to the pastoral 
 care of the Unitarian Church in West Cambridge. Hoping to make this 
 his permanent home, he built a cottage on the banks of the beautiful Meno- 
 tomy Pond ; but a deep shadow quickly fell upon his bright prospects. In 
 November of the same year he was attacked with a disease, which at first 
 seemed of a dubious character, but afterwards proved to be epilepsy. He 
 continued to preach for a short time after this, but, in July following, as 
 the disease was evidently making progress, he felt constrained to desist 
 from public speaking, and to resign his pastoral charge. In November, 
 1845, he returned to Cambridge, and there made his home during the resi- 
 due of his life. After this, his health improved considerably, so that, in 
 1847, he engaged in the Ministry at Large in Boston, and continued thus 
 employed for about a year. He had long cherished the desire and pur- 
 pose of visiting Europe ; and, as circumstances seemed now to favour it, he 
 sailed for Leghorn in April, 1848. He was absent somewhat more than a 
 year, passing most of his time in Italy, and chiefly in Florence and Rome, 
 to which, as a student of antiquity and a lover of art, he was specially 
 attracted. On his return, he prepared a course of lectures, embracing 
 the most important results of his observation during his residence in Italy, 
 which he delivered in Boston, New York, and some other places in the 
 winter of 1849-50. In 1851 these lectures were published in a single 
 volume, entitled " Sketches of European Capitals." During the summer 
 of this year, he was occupied in the preparation of a course of lectures on 
 the " Works and Genius of Washington Allston." But, just as his arrange- 
 ments for delivering them in Boston were completed, he was suddenly pros- 
 trated by the disease to which, for many years, he had been subject, and 
 be never recovered from the attack. The lectures, however, were subse- 
 quently published. He died after an illness of nine days, duriug which he 
 lay in a state of unconsciousness, on the 19th of February, 1852. 
 
 In addition to the volumes already noticed, Mr. Ware published a Com- 
 munion Sermon, 18-5. Three Sermons on Unitarian Christianity, 1828. 
 A Sermon on Worldly-BIindedness, in the Liberal Preacher, 1829 ; and 
 a Memoir of Nathaniel Bacon, in the 13th volume of Sparks' American 
 Biography. In 1827 he edited "The Unitarian," a small periodical pub- 
 lished in New York. He was also, for many years, a frequent contributor 
 to the columns of the Christian Register. 
 
 In 1823 Mr. Ware was married to Mary, daughter of Dr. Benjamin 
 Waterhouse, of Cambridge, who still (1861) survives. He left two sons 
 and two daughters. The eldest child (a son) is a lawyer, and the youngest 
 is now passing through his course in Harvard College, 
 
WILLIAM WARE. 513 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOSEPH ALLEN, D. D. 
 
 Northborocgh, Mass., December 8, 1862. 
 
 My dear Friend : In reply to your request for my recollections of my brother- 
 in-law, William Ware, I have to say that I fitted him for College, and my con- 
 nection with the family brought me into intimate relations with him, though, on 
 account of his more distant residence, not so intimate as with his brother Henry. 
 He was uncommonly diffident and self distrustful, greatly underrating his 
 powers, and never doing himself justice in his public performances. He had 
 more genius, as I think his writings show, than his brother, but fell far below 
 him as a pulpit orator and a parish minister; though, in this respect, he was 
 judged much more favourably by the public, and especially by his stated 
 hearers, and those who knew him best, than by himself. To strangers he 
 appeared somewhat cold and distant, but to those who knew him and were 
 intimate with him, he was warm-hearted and genial, — a most delightful com- 
 panion, whose conversation was sprightly and replete with wisdom and wit. 
 
 Mr. Ware was slow in coming to maturity; and in college rank he stood 
 below many whom he afterwards greatly excelled in scholarship and fame. 
 His health broke down in the midst of his honours and usefulness, and his 
 early death prevented him from attaining to that eminence as a scholar and a 
 writer of which he had given the promise. 
 
 As to the exact type of Mr. Ware's Unitarianism, I cannot speak with con- 
 fidence, and I am inclined to think that he had no very sharply defined views 
 in regard to the nature and rank of Jesus Christ. I know, however, that he 
 regarded Him with the deepest veneration, as a being of superhuman origin, 
 whose mission was miraculously attested, and whose authority was truly 
 Divine; as the Son of God in a high and peculiar sense, as the one Mediator 
 between God and man. My impression is that he Would not have been willing 
 to be classed with any sect of ancient or modern times, in such a sense as to 
 be responsible for the views attributed to such sect. 
 
 He had a great love for the fine arts, especially for Music and Painting, the 
 beauties of which he could appreciate and enjoy with a keen relish. In his 
 tedious days of weakness and incapacity for long continued labour of the 
 mind or the body, he found relaxation and relief in listening to the music of 
 the parlour or the orchestra, or in visiting collections of painting or statuary, 
 to which he had access in this and in foreign lands. He was himself skilled 
 in these delightful arts. Had he, in early life, chosen the vocation of an artist, 
 and devoted himself to it, he might have attained to no ordinary excellence. 
 His taste for the fine arts, and his ability to appreciate the works of the old 
 masters, made his visit to Europe, notwithstanding the physical infirmitie's 
 under which he laboured, a season of great and exquisite enjoyment. 
 
 I will only add that, in his domestic character, he was all that could be 
 desired in the relations he sustained, as a, husband, father and head of a 
 household. In all the domestic relations he was unselfish, sweet tempered, 
 of a gentle, loving spirit, such as made him to be loved and idolized by all 
 the members of the little circle of which he was the head and ornament. 
 Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 Ever truly and affectionately yours, 
 
 JOSEPH ALLEN. 
 
 FROM THE REV. ANDREW P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Cambridge, October 30, 1861. 
 My dear Sir: I promised you a sketch of my impressions as to the Rev 
 William Ware. 
 
 I was not intimately acquainted with Mr. Ware till after his resignation of 
 Vol. VIII. 33 
 
514 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 his pastorate at "West Cambridge; but, for the last few years of his life, I was 
 in frequent correspondence and intercourse with him, and he was repeatedly 
 a guest at my house. During this whole period he was distinctly aware of 
 the incuiableness of the cerebral disease which had stricken him down in the 
 pulpit, and not only so, but he knew how probable it was that an entire eclipse 
 of his mental powers might precede dissolution by a long interval. But he 
 bore this heavy burden of disease, suffering and dread, not only with resigna- 
 tion, but with a prevailing cheerfulness, — not the gift of an impassible nature, 
 but the result of strong self-discipline; for there was that in his countenance 
 and the tones of his voice, which showed that he had gone down into the lowest 
 depths, and had been drawn out of them only through the power of his faith. 
 I have known few men who have so strongly endeared themselves as inmates 
 of a home not their own. The most modest of men, endowed with keenly 
 delicate perceptions and sensibilities, with an unstudied kindness and cour- 
 tesy ; wholly devoid of egotism, and not so much thoughtful as intuitively 
 conscious of whatever could contribute to the happiness of those around him, 
 he has left the most precious remembrances in the families of his friends. His 
 brilliant powers of intellect cannot easily be overrated, nor can too high an 
 estimate be placed on his thorough classical scholarship. His " Zenobia " is, 
 it seems to me, unequalled in its kind, and it is the only work of its kind in 
 which we may not easily trace anachronisms, from which, indeed, his later 
 stories are not always free. He had one capacity of excellence which deserves 
 special notice. He always regarded himself as a born artist; and though his 
 literary and professional employments, and his entire lack of regular artistic 
 training, seemed to preclude his excelling in a mere occasional pastime, there 
 yet remain several of his paintings in oil, which, in the judgment of connois- 
 seurs, indicate superior genius in design and skill in execution. 
 
 His worst fears for himself were realized in but a very slight degree. His 
 brightness, versatility, and playfulness of intellect were not sensibly impaired 
 when I last saw him, and, I believe, remained unchanged till the attack of 
 illness which terminated his life. His memory, never tenacious, became some- 
 what less trustworthy than it had been, and his power of continuous mental 
 effort was diminished. In all other respects he was mercifully spared what 
 he most dreaded. 
 
 I remember having heard him preach but once. His sermon then was pro- 
 foundly serious, but delivered with little energy and animation. In his 
 more private ministerial relations as a Pastor and Friend he was greatly 
 jesteemed and beloved. I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 A. P. PEABODY. 
 
 FROM THE RET. HENRY W. BELLOWS, D. D. 
 
 New Yoke, March 7, 1863. 
 
 My dear Dr. Sprague: All the essential facts connected with my predeces- 
 sor's history, your diligence has, doubtless, already gleaned. You will find 
 them, if you still want the means of correcting your record, accurately stated 
 in Dr. Dewey's article on William Ware in the Christian Examiner. 
 
 I wish only to give you, at this time, in answer to your request, such per- 
 sonal recollections of him and such an estimate of his character, as may help 
 to fill out the conception of a man who ought never to be forgotten. 
 
 ] knew Mr. Ware only in his prime, from forty to fifty. He had a noble and 
 beautiful presence; a good height; a firmly and generously fashioned frame; a 
 head, so high and large, so intellectual and commanding, that I recollect Miss 
 Marlineau said it was worth coming across the Atlantic to see it. His com- 
 
WILLIAM WARE. 515 
 
 plexion was fair and pallid, but not of an unhealthy look. On the contrary, 
 although very thoughtful and scholarly in his aspect, he had commonly a 
 robust and hearty manner, aided by a cheery and manly voice, and by a vig- 
 orous movement of foot and muscular grasp of hand, which gave an impression 
 of power and health. The very serious disease (of the brain) from which he 
 suffered, perhaps all his life, but certainly acutely for the last ten years of his 
 existence, and which finally carried him off, never very seriously impaired his 
 appearance or showed itself in his external ways. A full, soft eye, with mirth 
 and mildness in it, and a great wide looking sense, with a hospitality for all 
 that Art and Nature and Humanity could bring within its sweep; a, generous, 
 strong, firm chin; a handsome, regular mouth; with a magnificent dome, 
 overhanging and crowning all, — made William Ware's head and face remarka- 
 ble in all assemblies. And this fine physique did not mislead. A heart as 
 true, noble and sweet as ever beat; a mind clear, broad and strong; u, will 
 firm and erect; a conscience clear and scrupulous; a taste pure and classical; 
 a spirit reverential and humble; — all were in William Ware. Nothing but a 
 lurking disease of the brain kept him from doing still larger justice to his 
 great powers of mind and character, — for he was equal, in intellectual and 
 moral endowments, to any thing. Self distrust, reserve, and a shrinking 
 from publicity — which his social affections, which were strong, his delight- 
 ful power of conversation, and his universal personal acceptableness, did noth- 
 ing to account for, and which must have proceeded from disease — these kept 
 him from doing that full justice to himself in the pulpit, and in his professional 
 career, which, could he have overcome them, would have placed him as a 
 preacher, where he afterwards stood as u, writer. His sermons, always clear, 
 high toned, and in the purest English, were comparatively dry and unadorned; 
 his manner somewhat cold and unaffecting, — simply from the shrinking deli- 
 cacy with which he avoided the least approach to ostentation or self exhibition, 
 and from the excessive dread of show of emotion or ad captandwm zeal. He 
 was so real, so modest, so sincere, that to do any thing for effect, to seem to 
 feel, or to say, more than the coolest self judgment would justify, was wholly 
 beyond his power — and for fear he should sink into mere professional zeal 
 and pulpit effort, he kept far within the limits of his own sensibilities and 
 powers, — and hid alike his fine imagination and his tender heart from those 
 he addressed in his sermons. His verbal memory was very bad. Public 
 extempore prayer was a perpetual trial to him, and he was always afraid of 
 breaking down in it. The presence of an audience disconcerted and distressed 
 him, and I think he seldom had any comfort in his public utterances. 
 
 << ! that William could preach his letters," said his distinguished brother 
 Henry to me one day in Cambridge, as he was reading one of those brilliant, 
 playful, affectionate, easy epistles which his friends were so fond of receiving. 
 For, all the while that Mr. Ware was preaching severe, essay-like, and unat- 
 tractive sermons, which owed their power mainly to the confidence, respect 
 and affection inspired by his high, manly, pure and disinterested character, 
 his stern simplicity of soul and unassuming worth, he was capable of writing — ■ 
 and soon proved it — in a charming, imaginative, dramatic and many coloured 
 style, — of mingled purity and strength, grace and elegance. He wrote, too, 
 with consummate self-possession and ease, not even correcting his manuscripts — 
 and with a marvellous rapidity and richness and beauty. His splendid series 
 of classical novels must certainly hold a permanent place in literature. Julian, 
 perhaps the least popular, owing to not wholly discreditable prejudices, is, if 
 the attempt to reproduce the scenes in which our Lord moved, in any fictitious 
 way, can ever be accepted — by far the least unsuccessful effort yet made in 
 that line, and indeed has a truly wonderful power in its way. 
 
 Mr. Ware's ministry in New York (his only ministry) was indescribably 
 
516 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 laborious. He made a conscience of two original sermons every week. He 
 visited his widely scattered congregation with laborious care. He was punc- 
 tiliously attentive to the sick and to the poor, wearing himself out in persist- 
 ent watchings and readings by their bedsides. He had a nervous shrinking 
 from every thing unhandsome or offensive to the senses and the taste, — but 
 this only made him the more exacting of himself in his attentions to the 
 least interesting or most repulsive dependents on his pastoral attentions. Very 
 proud and self-respectful, he contended with a narrow income in a most un- 
 complaining way. Indeed his port and carriage made, at no time, the least 
 appeal to sympathy, — much less to pity or help. Willing to give any and 
 every thing, sympathy, money, attention, — he asked nothing, and with diffi- 
 culty received any thing. I recollect well meeting him in Florence, a lonely 
 self-exile, because he could not bear that his disease should wear on the sym- 
 pathies of home, and chose to suffer alone. His manner and conversation 
 gave no indication of the martyrdom he was enduring. Indeed, they almost 
 rendered inquiry as to his health impossible — you felt that he would not per- 
 mit sympathy with his sorrows to be even hinted. I have never seen so self- 
 subsistent and dignified a, sufferer. The sword hanging over his head could 
 not quench his smile, his courage, his self-reliance; and yet he concealed even 
 his fortitude, his triumph of spirit. His aim seemed to be to avoid all notice, 
 all praise, all pity. 
 
 The genuineness of Mr. Ware was apparent in every thing. He was inca- 
 pable of an insincere tone of voice. He understated his convictions, his affec- 
 tions, his faith. He concealed from the young his superiority in knowledge, 
 experience, wisdom, as if it were almost a wrong, I recollect his saying to 
 me once that he never knew a man who did any thing worth while, who was 
 lacking in conceit. He Spoke as if he would give much for that quality. His 
 humility was so great and so genuine that he felt it to be a hindrance. But 
 it was accompanied by an immense self-respect; no self-complacency, no ade- 
 quate self-valuation, but great self-respect. He could not be praised; his 
 dignity, child-like as it was, could not be invaded — at bottom he was really 
 great in his personality. 
 
 Mr. Ware had a dry humour about him, very delightful to his intimate 
 friends. I remember his walking down Broadway with me the day before my 
 Ordination in New York as his successor. Assuming a very solemn expression, 
 he said, « Sir, I wish to give you one very serious piece of advice, in entering 
 on your new life in this great and dangerous city." I opened my ears to take 
 in the consummate counsel, in which I was prepared to find the wisdom of his 
 life and ministry condensed; << Be careful, sir, be very careful not to step on 
 the coal holes." Doubtless he meant to express his sense of the folly of ex- 
 pecting a young man to profit much by the advice of his seniors. His remark 
 about the coal holes has been of real service; (for they are slippery pests 
 when shut, and perilous traps when open;) but a thousand times, in its moral 
 import of "taking heed to my ways," I have revived it, as his sole counsel 
 to me in stepping into his shoes. 
 
 Mr. Ware left a profound impression of his character upon the best and 
 most cultivated portion of his flock. I have constantly met with the eviden- 
 ces of his power to give a vivid and ineffaceable sense of the reality of Chris- 
 tian faith and Christian virtue to those who knew him well. The nearer you 
 came to him the stronger this feeling was. He was so much more than he 
 claimed, or would allow, that he had all the effect that belongs to great re- 
 served power. 
 
 One of the tender evidences of his still fresh influence in his old sphere of 
 ministerial life is, that, at this very moment, although more than a quarter 
 of a century has elapsed since he left them, the First Congregational Church 
 
WILLIAM WARE. 517 
 
 are just erecting a mural tablet to his memory in the Church of all Souls, 
 where a few who knew and loved him, still remain to cherish the recollections 
 of his precious gifts, his pure and noble character, his single-hearted Christian 
 ministry. 
 
 My revered friend and former colleague in this city, Dr. Dewey, who knew 
 Mr. Ware as intimately as any one, has sent me a letter, in reply to one asking 
 for his recollections, which, although not intended for publication, I should 
 feel it to be an injustice to my predecessor's memory to withhold from your 
 pages, and which I assume the responsibility of making the best part of my 
 present contribution to your Record. 
 
 Very faithfully and fraternally yours, 
 
 HENRY W. BELLOWS. 
 
 Sheffield, February 18, 1863. 
 
 My dear Bellows: William Ware was born for another profession than that 
 in which he passed his life. He should have been an artist, a painter or an 
 author. There are some drawings in his house at Cambridge, which show that 
 he would have excelled in that walk of art. The study walls of his house in 
 New York were covered over with crayon sketches. Though so calm in his 
 outward appearance that few would have suspected it, yet he was too sensi- 
 tive for public life. Between silent walls, with none to observe him, he would 
 have found his work congenial and grateful. But before an audience his fac- 
 ulties had no fair play. 
 
 Not that he was indifferent to his hearers, still less to his people. For I 
 hardly ever knew a parish more devotedly attached to its Pastor than his — 
 composed too in part of some of the most cultivated and admirable persons, 
 as you, his successor, well know. And nobody can read his Zenobia, Aurelian 
 and Julian without seeing that he was full of genius and eloquence. But the 
 face of an audience seemed to chill that glowing enthusiasm. And it was so 
 with him in the more solemn and formal occasions of his parochial life. He 
 used to say to me that the death and approaching funeral of any person in his 
 parish, even of a little child, filled him with agitation and distress for days. 
 
 I have in my possession two most touching letters from him, on what he 
 called his << mistake for a life." So much did he feel this, that he determined, 
 soon after his settlement in New York, to retire. But his brother Henry, de- 
 voted as he was to the Church, as all our churches well know, could not bear 
 that he should leave his post, and persuaded him to remain in it. My own 
 relation with him was so intimate, and so important was his presence and 
 companionship to me, that I exacted and obtained from him a promise that he 
 would not resign his place without consulting me. Great, therefore, was my 
 surprise when I learned one day in my country home, that he had actually 
 taken that step. I went down to New York, and my first word to him was, 
 « How is this? You have broken your promise." His answer shut my lips; 
 for he said, " I have not consulted even my father or brothers." I saw how 
 it was: he could not bear the unnatural strain of his situation upon his mind 
 and heart. Exclamations of regret and disappointment arose on every hand, 
 and my own sorrow was such that I felt, I am afraid, a sort of malicious 
 pleasure in telling him of persons in the parish, most highly valued by him, 
 who said to me, << We have lost our best friend, and the greatest benefactor 
 we ever had in our families." He was much surprised, for nothing in him 
 exceeded his modesty — and said — "If I had known that, perhaps I should 
 have remained." 
 
 It was some years after that he was seized with that affection of the brain 
 which eventually proved fatal to him. How disease should have entered so 
 perfect a dwelling as the dome of his upper head, I do not know — nothing 
 
518 
 
 UNITARIAN CONGEEGATIONAL. 
 
 could be finer. Pendent to his likeness in my library, hangs that of Ruskin; 
 but with all his intellectual beauty it is not equal to Ware's. 
 
 The first manifestation of his disease was very singular. He had been 
 working in his garden, and went in much exhausted, just at evening. He 
 took a book to read, and very soon met with a word he did not understand. 
 Supposing it to be some strange misprint, he went on, but soon came to another, 
 and to a third. In some concern about what this could be, he closed the book, 
 retired to rest and slept till morning. The first thing on waking was to take 
 his book again, when he found the same phenomenon repeatedly recurring. 
 He then saw that it was upon the brain. The disease increased, and, after 
 some years passed in constant liability to attacks equally alarming and pain- 
 ful to witness, he determined to go abroad, and he determined to go alone. 
 To all our earnest remonstrances he replied, "I cannot live with these 
 anxious eyes turned upon me at any moment." With the delicate and sensi- 
 tive disinterestedness of his nature, he could not bear the ceaseless watch of 
 love around him, and he said, — "I must go; and I must go alone." He went; 
 his health was improved; and on his return he prepared and printed a book 
 on the " European Capitals;" and afterwards set himself about three Lectures 
 on the " Works and Genius of Washington Alston," which, after his death, 
 were also published. They showed plainly the bent of his mind and are full 
 of fine discrimination and original thought. 
 
 His works awakened a strong interest and were widely read. I have a trans- 
 lation of Zenobia into German, and I do not know but others were translated. 
 And ships, sailing out of Boston, bear the names of Zenobia and Aurelian. 
 
 I have written these few things, at your request, hastily, as they came into 
 my mind — for I have no faculty for elaborate biographical writing. I hardly 
 know why, but it always seems to me that the finer essence of life must escape 
 from these biographical analyses. Certainly no such analysis would tell what 
 William Ware was. Ever yours, 
 
 ORVILLE DEWEY. 
 
 BERNARD WHITMAN. 
 
 1824 — 1834. 
 
 FKOM THE REV. ANDREW P. PEABODY, D. D. 
 
 Cambridge, December 9, 1862. 
 My dear Sir : I knew Bernard Whitman well, and have many pleasant recol- 
 lections of him, which it is grateful to me to record. If the following brief 
 sketch of his life and character is suited to your purpose, I am happy in 
 being able to contribute it. 
 
 Bernard Whitman was born at East Bridgewater, Mass., June 8, 
 1796. He was the thirteenth child of Deacon John Whitman, who, with 
 his mental faculties undimmed, survived an entire century. He was thus 
 born into a large family ; into a family, too, though not poor in the com- 
 mon sense of the word, in which frugality, self-denial, and labour were 
 incumbent duties on every member. The discipline of such a domestic 
 position was invaluable in breaking down the first forth-puttings of selfish- 
 ness, and inspiring a strong fellow-feeling ; for common burdens, conflicts, 
 
BERNARD WHITMAN. 519 
 
 and efforts constitute a much surer bond of mutual interest and affection 
 than even household ties. The same good influences which I have ascribed 
 to his family connection, may also with fairness be attributed to the com- 
 munity in which he received his early education. It was a neighbourhood 
 of plain, hardworking, unsophisticated New England farmers ; and every 
 one knows how closely such neighbourhoods are cemented in mutual depend- 
 ence and sympathy ; how readily the burden of one is lifted by all ; how 
 heartily the joy of one is shared by all. Of this spirit Mr. Whitman, 
 while yet u, boy, drank deeply, and manifested in childhood and youLh the 
 same " generous disdain of deceit, of wrong, and of oppression, together 
 with the same promptness and zeal to maintain the just rights and claims 
 of others as well as his own," by which he was so much distinguished in 
 after life. 
 
 Several circumstances, — among which the most influential undoubtedly 
 was the fact that, during a vacancy in his native parish, the candidates for 
 settlement boarded with his father, — early directed his attention to the 
 Christian ministry as his profession. His father being unable to afford him 
 pecuniary assistance, he left home at the age of sixteen, and laboured in 
 different manufactories as an apprentice, journeyman, and overseer, until 
 he had earned a sufficient sum to enable him to commence his studies. To 
 this portion of his life he ever after attached a very high importance, as 
 having at once enlisted his sympathies with the class of people among 
 whom his lot was subsequently cast, and given him an intimate knowledge 
 of their peculiar wants, temptations and trials. He prepared for College, 
 principally as a beneficiary at Exeter, under the tuition of the venerable 
 Dr. Abbot. Here, though respectable, he was not distinguished as a scho- 
 lar ; and appears to have been diverted, in some degree, from habits of 
 close application, by his incapacity to discern and feel the bearing of his 
 classical course on his present or future usefulness. But in the pursuit of 
 what he perceived to be directly useful he wa3 untiringly diligent. He 
 entered with deep interest into the circumstances and feelings of all his 
 fellow-students ; and, while he was respected and beloved by those of his 
 own age, he was looked up to by the younger boys as their patron, protec- 
 tor and fast friend. He was also peculiarly active in procuring relief and 
 aid for the destitute in the neighbourhood of the Academy, and was the 
 means, in some instances, of preventing extreme suffering from want. He 
 was, at this time, strongly prepossessed in favour of Calvinistic views of 
 the Gospel ; and, even when he entered Harvard College, as he stated to 
 his brother a short time before his death, it was with a determination not 
 to listen to or be influenced by the Unitarian preaching under which he 
 might there sit, and, while present in the Chapel on the Sabbath, he used 
 to court sleep, or fix his thoughts upon something foreign from the place 
 and the occasion, that so he might avoid hearing doctrines which he did 
 not believe. 
 
 He entered College in 1818, and remained there but little more than a 
 year. He maintained a highly respectable rank in his class, and an 
 unbounded popularity among his classmates, — a popularity won by no 
 undignified concessions or compliances, (for he bore among his fellow- 
 students the reputation of the strictest sobriety and the most conscientious 
 
520 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 piety,) but. by Lis frankness and generosity, and by the constant outflow, 
 ing of a strong fraternal emotion, which made itself felt and compelled 
 reciprocation. Nor is it unworthy of notice, as illustrating his sterling 
 benevolence, that, while at College, he kept up with the younger lads whom 
 he had left at Exeter a constant correspondence, in which he gave them 
 the most judicious advice with regard to both scholarship and character. 
 Early in his Sophomore year a rebellion broke out in his class, in conse- 
 quence of the suspension of two favourite members for a disturbance in 
 Commons Hall. One of these young men was Whitman's room-mate. 
 The class resolved, with one exception, to attend no more recitations until 
 the punishment, doubtless judicious, but, as they most sincerely believed, 
 unjust, should be rescinded. Whitman entered with warmth into the class 
 feeling, and, with the conscious rectitude of one who was resenting injury 
 and seeking a redress of grievances, he made himself peculiarly obnoxious 
 by an inflammatory speech under the Rebellion Tree. This circumstance, 
 together with his situation as a beneficiary, which seemed to impose upon 
 him peculiar responsibilities as an upholder of the majesty of college law, 
 rendered it expedient, in the eyes of the government, to select him from 
 among the rest for the penalty of rustication. After pursuing his studies 
 in private for a year, he re-entered the next class, and, unwilling to remain 
 in a lower than his original standing, immediately requested and received 
 a regular dismission from College. The esteem in which he was held by 
 the class from which he was thus separated will appear from the fact that, 
 on his dismission from College, they collected- among themselves and gave 
 him as a viaticum a very considerable sum of money, which he, with char- 
 acteristic delicacy of feeling, though utterly penniless, refused to appro- 
 priate to his necessities, but converted it into a perpetual memorial of 
 friendship, by purchasing a number of standard works in English literature, 
 which he inscribed as the gift of his classmates. It may not be amiss to 
 state here that he, in later years, most sincerely regretted his folly in yield- 
 ing to the rebellious excitement above referred to, that he was always soli- 
 citous to impress on his young friends the duty of implicit obedience to, 
 and unreserved confidence in, the authorities of College, and that he had 
 even planned a. series of " Letters to College Students," of which the incul- 
 cation of these sentiments was to be the chief object. 
 
 About this time Mr. Whitman became acquainted with the writings of 
 Swedenborg, and there was much in their benevolent spirit which com- 
 mended itself to his feelings and judgment, and almost persuaded him to 
 give in his adherence to the New Jerusalem Church. But he was at a loss 
 for the requisite evidence of Swedenborg's Divine inspiration, and was, at 
 the same time, able to trace to the New Testament most of those delightful 
 features that had at first presented themselves as peculiar to Swedenborg's 
 disciples, so that he never became of their number, though he ever after 
 attributed to his intimacy with them and their standards some of the views 
 of Christian doctrine which he valued most, and some of his strongest 
 impulses to benevolent effort. 
 
 For the five years subsequent to his leaving College, Mr. Whitman's 
 time was divided between the labour of instruction and his preparation for 
 the ministry. During the first two years of this period, his theological 
 
BERNARD WHITMAN. 521 
 
 opinions had been gradually undergoing a change, so that when, from pru- 
 dential motives, he commenced his professional studies with Mr. Davis, a 
 Calvinistic clergyman of Wellfleet, there is but little doubt that his doc- 
 trinal views were in conflict with those of his instructor. With Mr. Davis 
 he remained but a few months, and completed his preparatory course under 
 the direction of the Kev. Dr. Abbot, of Beverly. While at Beverly, 
 though always active and busy, it was seldom in the work of improving his 
 own mind by regular and systematic study. He mingled much with the 
 community aronnd him, especially the younger part of it, doing what he 
 could in aid of their general improvement; and many of them, I am sure, 
 cherish to this day a lively and grateful recollection of his generous efforts 
 in their behalf. He wrote a few sermons, on which he enjoyed the free and 
 candid criticism of his instructor, who was himself eminent for the simpli- 
 city, clearness and methodical arrangement of his discourses. He was 
 licensed to preach in the autumn of 1824, with a slender stock, it must be 
 confessed, of the knowledge that is drawn from books, yet with a singu- 
 larly clear and comprehensive acquaintance with that volume of human 
 nature, so often illegible to the scholastic divine. He was ordained Pastor 
 of the Second Church in Waltham, February 15, 1826. 
 
 In December, 1826, Mr. Whitman was married to Elizabeth Hartwell 
 Crosby, daughter of Josiah Crosby, of Billerica. They had two children, 
 one of whom, (Josiah Crosby,) whose name was subsequently changed to 
 Bernard Crosby, wa3 graduated at Harvard College, in 1846, became a 
 lawyer, and has borne some public office (judicial I think) in California. 
 Mrs. Whitman died February 12, 1831. In 1832, Mr. Whitman was mar- 
 ried, the second time, to Sarah Bowers, daughter of Samuel Bowers, of 
 Billerica, who is still living. 
 
 Mr. Whitman entered upon his ministry with very different purposes and 
 views from those which he embodied in practice. He intended to confine 
 himself to the advancement of what he regarded as the best interests of his 
 own people. He had no thought of becoming an author, or of assuming in 
 any way a controversial attitude. But he was settled over a parish which 
 had just dismissed a Calvinistic clergyman, who carried with him to a new 
 place of worship a minority of the parish, and nearly all the communicants. 
 This circumstance occasioned a bitter controversy, and led Mr. Whitman 
 to a somewhat bold and earnest exposition of Unitarian views. His first 
 publication was a Sermon on " Denying the Lord Jesus," which was pub- 
 lished in August, 1827. This sermon passed through several editions, 
 found a rapid sale and extensive circulation, and placed its author at once 
 in the front ranks of the defenders of Unitarianism. From this time his 
 labours were often put in requisition for public occasions ; and there was 
 scarcely any man on whom the eyes of his denomination were sooner 
 turned, whenever any plans were to be projected or any measures executed, 
 in aid of its peculiar interests. 
 
 Mr. Whitman made himself well acquainted with the general features 
 of the age and land, with the extent and magnitude of public evils, and 
 the remedies which it was within the scope of an enlightened philanthropy 
 to apply. He embarked warmly in the cause of Temperance, and was 
 peculiarly successful and popular as a Temperance lecturer, even among 
 
522 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 those who, in their theological opinions, differed from him most widely. 
 He also, a year before his death, took an open and decided stand with the 
 Anti-Slavery party, though lie disapproved of many of their most violent 
 measures. However some might question the expediency of his course 
 on this latter subject, no one could doubt the honesty of his purposes, or 
 the generosity of his impulses, in adopting it. 
 
 The following is as complete a list of Mr. Whitman's publications as I 
 can procure: A Discourse on Denying the Lord Jesus, 1827. A Dis- 
 course on Regeneration, 1828. A Thanksgiving Discourse on the Means 
 of Increasing Public Happiness, 1828. The Artillery Election Sermon, 
 1829. A Lecture on Popular Superstitions. 1829. A Sermon on Chris- 
 tian Salvation, preached at the Ordination of Stephen A. Barnard, at 
 Wilton, 1830. A Letter to an Orthodox Minister on Revivals of Reli- 
 gion, 1831. Two Letters to the Rev. Moses Stuart on the subject of 
 Religious Liberty, 1831. Reply to the Review of the last-named work 
 in the Spirit of the Pilgrims for March, 1831. Village Sermons (a 12mo. 
 volume,) 1832. An Address delivered at the Dedication of the Masonic 
 Temple, in Boston, 1832. A Discourse on Christian Union, delivered at 
 the Installation of Adin Ballou, Mendon. Friendly Letters to a Univer- 
 salist on Divine Rewards and Punishments (a 12mo. volume,) 1833. 
 
 Of the above-named publications of Mr. Whitman the most extended 
 and elaborate are his " Letters to Professor Stuart on Religious Liberty," 
 and his " Letters to Universalists." His writings were of the popular 
 cast, fitted rather to make an impression upon the common mind than 
 greatly to aid the cultivated intellect. His style of preaching was remark, 
 able for its clearness and simplicity. I have heard him say that, in pre- 
 paring for the pulpit, he kept constantly before his mind's eye an intelli- 
 gent child of twelve years of age, and was careful to write nothing which 
 such a child could not understand. 
 
 In the spring of 1834 he contracted a severe cold, which issued in a 
 pulmonary consumption. He early became aware of the fatal character 
 of his disorder, and arranged all his affairs with precision and accuracy, 
 that he might leave no unnecessary care and responsibility upon his friends. 
 He continued gradually to decline until the morning of November 5, 1834, 
 when, in the full possession of his mental faculties, and in perfect tran- 
 quillity of soul, he breathed his last. An appropriate Address was deliv- 
 ered at his Interment, by his neighbour and friend, the Rev. Mr. Ripley, 
 of Waltham. 
 
 He left behind him sketches of several intended publications, chiefly of 
 a practical character; among which were " Letters to a Friend in Sick- 
 ness," " The Wedding Present," " Letters to the Afflicted under the Loss 
 of Friends," and "Letters from a Father to a Daughter." 
 
 I am, mv dear Sir, truly yours, 
 
 A. P. PEABODT. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOSEPH ALLEN, D. D. 
 
 Nobthboeodgh, September 1, 1863. 
 
 My dear Sir: I knew Bernard Whitman, I may say quite intimately, from 
 about the commencement of his ministry till its close. As our parishes were 
 
BERNARD WHITMAN. 523 
 
 not very distant from each other, we were in the habit of frequent exchanges, 
 • — the more frequent probably from the fact that one of my brothers, with his 
 family, resided within the bounds of his congregation. My last visit to him 
 was but a short time previous to his death, and it was an occasion too remark- 
 able ever to fade from my remembrance. 
 
 Bernard "Whitman had the advantage of possessing great personal attrac- 
 tions. Tliere was a. degree of manly beauty, a certain nobility of aspect and 
 air about him, that would have caused him to be singled out in a crowd. He 
 was of about the medium stature, of a robust frame, a finely proportioned 
 head, and dark curly hair, of a complexion that seemed to unite the lily and 
 the rose in perfect proportions; and a countenance expressive of all that was 
 bright and genial and good humoured. And his social attractions fully met 
 the expectation that would naturally be excited by his personal appearance. 
 His manners, though perfectly simple and unstudied, were marked by great 
 propriety and even gracefulness, and he had a facility of accommodation that 
 made him equally at home among all classes. There was a perfect natural- 
 ness pervading his whole character. He was one of the most transparent of 
 men. His face told you — and it spoke truly — that he was incapable of dis- 
 simulation. This characteristic was visible in all his public ministrations. 
 All that he said seemed to be the simple, genuine breathing of his spirit. He 
 had a fine voice, and he used it admirably, though he kept you impressed with 
 the idea that it was nature rather than culture by which you were attracted — 
 I do not mean by this that there was any want of culture, but only that cul- 
 ture had not betrayed him into any habit in the slightest degree artificial. 
 His style of writing was perspicuous and forcible, without any studied orna- 
 ment, but always in good taste. As a Preacher he occupied a commanding 
 position in his denomination, and was always listened to with interest, as well 
 for the ability with which his discourses were marked as for his natural and 
 effective delivery. 
 
 Mr. Whitman possessed a kindly and genial spirit, though he was frequentl}' 
 engaged in controversy, in which he manifested great earnestness, and some- 
 times, it must be acknowledged, a considerable degree of severity. I do not 
 think, however, that he ever cherished any ill-will toward those who opposed 
 him, though some of his controversial pamphlets doubtless rendered him 
 unpopular with the Orthodox portion of the community. He had great execu- 
 tive power, and, by his ready perception and remarkable tact, could promptly 
 meet any emergency, however unexpected. He had a truly philanthropic 
 spirit, that kept him upon the lookout for opportunities of benefitting his fel- 
 low men, and advancing the general interests of society. He was among the 
 first to engage in the delivery of Lyceum lectures, and the zeal with which he 
 pursued this, in connection with his other duties, had probably much to do in 
 bringing on the disease that terminated his life. I saw him, as I have already 
 intimated, but a short time before his departure. As soon as my eye rested 
 upon him, I perceived that death was nearly ready to do its work. He 
 seemed cheerful, but I quickly found that he was fully aware of his situation. 
 He remarked that, though it was a great disappointment to have his purposes 
 thus broken off, he felt that a better wisdom than his own had ordained it, 
 and he could say " not my will but thine be done." The tranquillity which 
 he manifested then, I was assured, continued to the last. 
 
 Grateful for the opportunity to pay this feeble tribute to the memory of a 
 departed friend and brother, I subscribe myself yours truly, 
 
 JOSEPH ALLEN. 
 
524 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ALEXANDER YOUNG, D. D* 
 
 1824 — 1854. 
 
 Alexander Young, a son of Alexander and Mary Young, was born 
 in Boston, on the 22d of September, 1800. His father was a printer, and 
 was one of the publishers of the New England Palladium, the firm being 
 " Young and Minns." In 1812 he entered the Boston Latin School, and 
 in 1816 was admitted to the Freshman Class of Harvard College, where 
 he graduated with distinguished honour in 1820, — in the same class with 
 E. S. Gannett, W. H. Furness, E. B. Hall, Calvin Lincoln, and others 
 who have been conspicuous in the different walks of life. The year suc- 
 ceeding his graduation, he was employed as assistant teacher in the Boston 
 Latin School. In the autumn of 1821 he entered the Divinity School at 
 Cambridge, where he pursued the regular course of study for three years. 
 On the 13th of September, 1824, he was approved, by the Boston Associa- 
 tion, as a candidate for the ministry. 
 
 The evidence that Mr. Young, at the very commencement of his min- 
 istry, enjoyed a much more than ordinary degree of popularity, is found in 
 the fact that, within about two months from the time he entered the pulpit, 
 he was unanimously invited to take the pastoral charge of two churches in 
 Boston, — oue the Twelfth Congregational, the other the New South, as 
 successor to Dr. Kirkland, Samuel Cooper Thacher, and Dr. Greenwood. 
 This latter call he accepted, and, on the 9th of January, 1825, he was or- 
 dained as the eighth Pastor of the Sixth Congregational Church, and was 
 the seventy-seventh Congregational minister settled in Boston. The Ser- 
 mon at his Ordination was preached by the Rev. John G. Palfrey, and the 
 Charge was given by Dr. Channing. 
 
 Though Mr. Young possessed naturally a strong constitution, his health 
 became considerably impaired in the year 1833, which led him to cross the 
 ocean, and pass some time in foreign countries. He greatly enjoyed 
 the tour, and returned with his health much improved, and prepared to re- 
 sume his w-ork with new vigour. This was the only material interruption 
 of his labours during the whole period of his ministry. 
 
 The degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred upon him, by Harvard 
 College, in 1846. 
 
 Dr. Young preached for the last time, on the 29th of January, 1854. 
 Immediately after this, he took a violent cold, which was followed by pleu- 
 risy, and this, after about six weeks, brought him to his grave. He died 
 on the 16th of March, and his Funeral was attended on the 20th, on which 
 occasion a Sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Gannett, from Matt, xxv, 
 23. On the Sabbath following, the Rev. Dr. George E. Ellis delivered a 
 Commemorative Discourse from Acts Xin, 36. Both Discourses were 
 published. 
 
 Mr. Young was married, on the 1st of November, 1826, to Caroline, 
 daughter of Eleazar and Rossafair (Brooks) James, of Barre, Mass. He had 
 
 * MS. from his Son, Rev. E. J. Young. — Funeral Sermons by Drs. Gannett and Ellis. — 
 Christ. Exam., 1854. — Mass. Hist. Coll., 4th series, II. 
 
ALEXANDER YOUNG. 525 
 
 twelve children, of whom eight, with their mother, survive him. Two of his 
 sons are graduates of Harvard College, and one of them (Edward James) is 
 now (1862) Pastor of the " Channing Congregational Church " in Newton. 
 
 Dr. Young was elected a member of the Board of Overseers of Har- 
 vard College in 1837, and in 1849 was chosen Secretary of the Board. 
 He was Recording Secretary of the Massachusetts Historical Society ; 
 President of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, Pietj' and 
 Charity ; a Director of the Society for Promoting Theological Education ; 
 a member of the Massachusetts Congregational Charitable Society; a mem- 
 ber of the Society for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians and others 
 in North America ; Vice President of the Boston Latin School Associa- 
 tion ; and a, member of the Historical Societies in various other States. 
 
 In 1829 he edited a series of " Selections from the Old English Prose 
 Writers," in nine volumes. In 1841 he published " The Chronicles of the 
 Pilgrim Fathers of the Colony of Plymouth, from 1602 to 1625," of which 
 a second edition appeared in 1844. In 1846 he issued " Chronicles of the 
 First Planters of the ColoDy of Massachusetts Bay, from 1623 to 1626." 
 He also projected and collected materials for two other works : — " Chron- 
 icles of the First Planters of the Colony of Virginia, from the First 
 Voyage of Discovery in 1584, to the Dissolution of the Virginia Company in 
 1624 ;" and "Chronicles of Maritime Discovery on the Coasts of North Ame- 
 rica" ; which it is much to be regretted that he did not live to complete. 
 
 The following is a list of Dr. Young's publications in pamphlet form : — ■ 
 A Discourse on the Sins of the Tongue, 1829. A Sermon at the Ordina- 
 tion of the Rev. James W. Thompson, at Natick, 1830. A Sermon at the 
 Ordination of the Bev. William Newell, at Cambridge, 1830. A pam- 
 phlet entitled Evangelical Uuitarianism adjusted to the Poor and Un- 
 learned, 1830. A Discourse Occasioned by the Death of William Parsons, 
 1837. A Discourse on the Life and Character of the Hon. Nathaniel 
 Bowditch, 1838. A Sermon at the Ordination of the Bev. George E. 
 Ellis, Charlestown, 1840. A Discourse on the Life and Character of the 
 Bev. John Thornton Kirkland, D, D., 1840. A Discourse occasioned by the 
 Death of the Hon. William Prescott, 1844. A Discourse on the Twen- 
 tieth Anniversary of his Ordination, 1845. The Dudleian Lecture, 1846. 
 A Discourse occasioned by the death of Benjamin Bich, 1851. A Dis- 
 course occasioned by the Death of Mrs. Catharine G. Prescott. 1852. 
 
 I had the pleasure of quite a number of interviews with Dr. Young 
 during the last few years of his life, and was always most favourably im- 
 pressed by his gentlemanly manners, his extensive and varied information, 
 and the kindly and genial tone of his spirit. I had several times occasion 
 to consult him in respect to the lives and writings of eminent men, and I 
 do not remember an instance in which he was not able to answer my in- 
 quiries. I had more than once the opportunity to observe how reverently 
 and gratefully he cherished the memory of President Kirkland — like many 
 other of his pupils, he loved to dwell not only on his rare intellectual en- 
 dowments, but on his fine moral and social qualities, and especially on his 
 dexterous management of the students, illustrative alike of his shrewdness 
 and good nature. All that I ever saw of him was in harmony with the 
 universal testimony of those who knew him well, — that he was a highly 
 
526 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 gifted and accomplished man, always ready to confer favours, and one of 
 
 the most exact and thorough historians of his day. He was if my memory 
 
 is not at fault, rather below than above the medium height, but his frame was 
 
 robust and apparently well fitted for endurance. Dr. Young, as I have been 
 
 assured by those who had the best opportunity of knowing, though a decided 
 
 Unitarian, sympathized, in the views of the more conservative portion 
 
 of his denomination. Dr. Chandler Robbins writes thus concerning him : — 
 
 " In liis religious opinions Dr. Young was a firm and zealous Unitarian. He was, 
 however as much opposed to Latitudinarianism on the one side as to bigotry aud ex- 
 clusiveness on the other. He rested his faith and grounded his teachings on the rock 
 of Christ's Divine authority, and not on the reasonings and speculations of men. He 
 was honest and independent in declaring and defending what he believed to be the 
 truths of Revelation; but he was no controversialist, and never assumed the attitude 
 of an assailant. The articles of his faith were clearly defined and firmly established 
 in his own mind. He had formed them after careful and patient study of the Bible, 
 and he was ready to give a reason for holding them."' 
 
 FROM THE HON. ROBERT C. WIXTIIROP. 
 
 Boston, January 20, 1855. 
 
 My dear Dr. Sprague: It gives me pleasure to comply with your request, by 
 bearing testimony to the sterling qualities of my late Reverend friend, Dr. 
 Young. I knew him well for many years before his death, and always enjoyed 
 his conversation and society. No man among us had a more familiar acquaint- 
 ance with the treasures of English literature. The series of selections from 
 the Old Prose Writers, which he published in 1839, gave ample proof of his 
 careful discrimination and refined taste, while it introduced to the reading 
 community of our country some of the choicest productions of the English 
 language. I have a vivid remembrance of my own sense of personal indebted- 
 ness to him, as I read, for the first time, in this edition, such works as Felt- 
 ham's Resolves, and Fuller's Holy State, and Sir Philip Sidney's Defence of 
 Poesy, and Sir Thomas Browne's Urn-burial. He was a diligent student of 
 our Colonial History, and delighted in the illustration of the principles and 
 virtues of the early settlers of New England. His << Chronicles " of the Pil- 
 grim Fathers, and of the Massachusetts Planters, will bear down his name to 
 posterity in fit association with the pure and pious men who founded our 
 Commonwealth. He was a faithful and devoted minister of the Gospel, accord- 
 ing to the views which he had adopted of the doctrines of the Sacred volume, 
 and his example was ever in conformity with his precepts. I had the good 
 fortune to meet him frequently in social life, and had abundant evidence that 
 beneath a grave, and sometimes stern exterior, he had a warm and generous 
 heart, never wanting in sympathy with the sorrows or the joys of those about 
 him. 
 
 At the moment your note reached me, I was reading a Memoir of Dr. Young 
 by one of his colleagues in the Unitarian ministry, and I cordially commend it 
 to your notice, as a just and faithful delineation of his life and character. 
 You will find it in the new volume of Collections just published by the Mas- 
 sachusetts Historical Society, of which Dr. Young was one of the most valu- 
 able members. Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 "With great respect and regard, your friend and servant, 
 
 ROBERT C. "WINTHROP. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOSEPH ALLEN, D. D. 
 
 Northborotjgh, September 1, 1863. 
 My dear Sir: My recollections of the late Dr. Young are every way so agreea- 
 ble that it is only a pleasure to me to communicate them to you. I was in 
 
ALEXANDER YOUNG. 527 
 
 intimate relations with him during his whole-ministry, and, as I had the charge 
 of the education of his son for some time, he spent two or three summers in 
 this place, only going to Boston to supply his pulpit on the Sabbath. During 
 this period we were often together, in unreserved intercourse, by means of 
 which I became acquainted somewhat minutely with his habits of thought and 
 feeling, and his views of a great variety of subjects. We also occasionally 
 exchanged pulpits, and often met on public occasions, where his presence was 
 always felt to be an element of interest. Indeed there has been no minister in 
 Boston, since the removal of my brother-in-law, Dr. Henry Ware, Jr., whom 
 I have known more intimately than Dr. Young. 
 
 In his exterior he was plain and unostentatious, and gave you the idea of a 
 straight-forward, honest, earnest man. He was scarcely of medium height, 
 but was robust and portly, and his whole appearance indicated a vigorous con- 
 stitution and firm health. His manners were gentlemanly and sufficiently 
 free, indicating what he really possessed, — much good nature and kindliness of 
 spirit. While he never lost sight of the dignity appropriate to his office, he 
 had a keen relish for the enjoyments of social life, and could appreciate a good 
 hit as well as any other man. His mind, I should say, was rather solid than 
 brilliant — it mov^d in a clear path, and accomplished its results with ease and 
 certainty, but its movements were not rapid. He was an intense lover of 
 books, and his library, which was admirably selected and very extensive, fur- 
 nished ample treasures to his cultivated taste. He was especially fond of his- 
 torical research, and the contributions which he has made to the early history 
 of the Colony of Massachusetts are of themselves sufficient to render his name 
 imperishable. He was a most careful and industrious collector of remarkable 
 facts, while yet he was careful to distinguish between what was authentic, 
 and what was doubtful and merely traditionary. Hence his historical works 
 are justl}" regarded as of the highest authority. 
 
 In his religious opinions Dr. Young was a decided Unitarian, but he had no 
 sympathy with those who would be called extremists in his denomination. 
 His preaching was generally practical, rarely what would be called doctrinal, 
 and seldom, if ever, controversial. Indeed I have some doubts whether even 
 his own people knew what were his views in respect to some of the contro- 
 verted points of theology — not from any unwillingness on his part to avow 
 them, but from a conviction that other themes would better subserve their 
 edification and profit. His manner in the pulpit was grave and dignified, and 
 seemed to indicate that he felt the importance of the work in which he was 
 engaged. He had an unusual felicity in delineating character; and hence his 
 Funeral Discourses were always listened to with the deepest interest. You 
 will not wonder, I think, at this, if you look into some of the Commemorative 
 Sermons which he has published, particularly those on President Kirkland and 
 the Hon. William Prescott. 
 
 Dr. Young had a large share of executive talent, and his influence was 
 widely felt through man}' different channels. He was remarkably methodical 
 in his habits, having a time for every thing, and never allowing one duty to 
 interfere with another. He had nothing of a proselyting spirit; and though 
 honestly devoted to the interests of his own denomination, he never sought to 
 increase its numbers by any means of an unfair or doubtful character. Hence 
 he never made himself obnoxious as a partizan, and among the wise and good 
 of other denominations he numbered many friends. His death occasioned 
 deep lamentation far beyond the limits of his own church. 
 
 With great respect, I am yours truly, 
 
 J. ALLEN. 
 
528 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 GEORGE WADSWORTH WELLS * 
 
 1827 — 1843. 
 
 George Wadswouth Wells was born in Boston, October 19, 1804. 
 His parents were Seth and Hannah (Doane) Wells, both members of the 
 West Church, lately Dr. Lowell's, now Dr. Bartol's. He fitted for Col-, 
 lege at the Boston Latin School ; entered at Harvard in 1819 ; and grad- 
 uated in 1823. He entered the Divinity School at Cambridge imme- 
 diately after his graduation ; passed through the regular course, and was 
 licensed to preach by the Boston Association, on the 24th of July, 1826. 
 In the autumn following he went to the South as far as Washington City, 
 and preached one Sabbath there, one in Philadelphia, and six in Baltimore ; 
 and, after his return, supplied the pulpit in Chauncy Place, Boston, four 
 months, commencing with January, 1827. He subsequently preached in 
 Kennebunk, Me., where he was received with great favour, and was invited 
 by the church there to become their Pastor. This invitation he accepted, 
 and was ordained and installed on the 24th of October, 1827, the Piev. 
 Dr. Lowell, of Boston, under whose ministry he had been reared, preach- 
 ing the Sermon. 
 
 On the 30th of May, 1833, Mr. Wells was married to Lucia Gardiner, 
 daughter of John and Martha (Hubbard) Fairfield, of Boston. 
 
 Mr. Wells continued laboriously employed in the field of labour to which 
 he was now introduced, during a period of eleven years. He had never a 
 vigorous physical constitution, and it proved inadequate to withstand the 
 severity of the climate, especially the bleak exposure of the coast on 
 which the town of Kennebunk lies. Admonished by his failing health, he 
 betook himself, for one winter, to the milder climate of Savannah, Ga. ; 
 and, during his stay in that city, served as a supply to the Unitarian 
 church. He remained there during the winter of 1837-38, and was so 
 much recruited that he returned to the scene of his accustomed labours, 
 with strong hopes that he had experienced lasting benefit from the change. 
 In this, however, both himself and his friends were disappointed — it soon 
 became apparent that he could not endure the rigours of another winter in 
 the region in which his lot had been cast. He, therefore, most reluctantly 
 made up his mind to leave Kennebunk, and accepted a call from the First 
 Congregational Church and Society in Groton, Mass. He preached his 
 Farewell Sermon at Kennebunk on the 21st of October, 1838, and was 
 installed at Groton some time the next month. 
 
 Mr. Wells ministered with great acceptance to the congregation of which 
 he now became Pastor, though it was manifest that he laboured under the 
 disadvantage of very imperfect health. He continued to preach, however, 
 without much interruption, until the first Sabbath in February, 1843, 
 when he had become too much indisposed to justify any further effort. 
 About that time he was attacked with a violent sick-head-ache, which was 
 followed by great exhaustion, and derangement of the digestive organs — 
 
 * Memoir by Dr. Bartol.— MS. from his Son, Rev. J. D. Wells. 
 
GEORGE WADSWORTH WELLS. 529 
 
 his power of vision was also seriously affected, insomuch that he was 
 unable to distinguish the faces of his friends. He, however, continued 
 very cheerful, and dwelt much on the advantages of sickness, especially as 
 furnishing an opportunity for meditation and self-communjon. He was 
 very fond of music, and often attempted to sing some favourite tune ; and 
 when he found himself unahle to proceed, he would continue to repeat the 
 hymn to the end. So also he took great pleasure in repeating selections 
 from the Psalms, remarking, at the same time, upon their great force and 
 beauty. On the Saturday immediately preceding his death, he was seized 
 with a violent pain in the region of the heart ; and when it was intimated 
 to him that his recovery was probably hopeless, he received the intelligence 
 with perfect composure. After a moment's pause, he said, — "It is hard 
 to break these ties, but God's will be done." In taking leave of his wife 
 he counselled her to be calm, and put her trust hi God, and then said a 
 few words to his children and others around him. After this, he revived 
 considerably, but his mind often wandered, and it was evident that the 
 time of his departure was at hand. For the last twenty-four hours of his 
 life, he suffered the most intense agony, and was unable to make any intel- 
 ligible communication to his friends. He died on the night of the 17th of 
 March, his death being the result of a complication of difficulties, aggra- 
 vated, if not occasioned, by excessive exertion. His Funeral was attended 
 on the 21st, and an Address delivered on the occasion by the Kev. Dr. 
 Bartol, of Boston. 
 
 Mr. Wells left behind him a widow and three children, — two sons and 
 one daughter, all of whom still (1861) survive. His eldest son, [JohnDoane,) 
 was graduated at Harvard College in 1854, studied Theology at the Divinity 
 School, Cambridge, and is now (1864) Pastor of the Church in Quincy, 
 Mass. 
 
 The following are Mr. AY ells' publications : — 
 
 A Tract entitled " The Christian Inquirer's Difficulties, 1834. The 
 Cause of Temperance the Cause of Liberty: An Address delivered at 
 Sanford, Me., before the First Temperance Association in York County, 
 1835. The Dangers and Duties of those whose Faith is misunderstood : 
 A Discourse delivered at the Unitarian Church in Savannah, 1837. Two 
 Farewell Sermons delivered at Kennebunk, 1838. A Sermon preached at 
 the Ordination of David Fosdick, Jr., as Minister of the First Parish in 
 Sterling, Mass., 1841. 
 
 In 1844 there were published, in a duodecimo volume, fifteen Sermons 
 by Mr. Wells, together with a Memoir of his Life, by the Rev. Dr. Bartol. 
 
 The following paragraph, taken from Mr. Wells' Farewell Sermon at 
 Kennebunk, will convey some idea of his views of some of the leading 
 doctrines of the Gospel. 
 
 " With regard to the character and offices of Jesus Christ, I have represented Him, 
 as ITi' is set forth in the Scriptures, as the Son of God, inferior to and dependent upon 
 the Father, by whom He was sanctified and sent into the world, and from whom He 
 received his power, his wisdom, and his authority. He came into the world that He 
 might brine; about a reconciliation between God and man; — not by changing the dis- 
 position of G»d, but by changing the character and disposition of man,— leading him 
 to understand his relation to God, awakening him to repentance, persuading and assist- 
 ing him to fulfil the duties which he owes to God and his fellow men. The doctrine of 
 the Atonement I have represented as one and the same thing with this reconciliation. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 34 
 
530 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 I have taught that we receive the atonement whenever we are led, by faith in Jesus 
 Christ, to turn unto the Lord our God, and to serve Him as our rightful Sovereign and 
 Ruler. This atonement, I have taught, is effected by the character and life of Jesus, 
 in which lie exemplified the beauty of holiness by his instructions, in which He made 
 known to us the disposition and purposes of God, the nature and destiny of man ; and 
 especially by his death, revealing the infinite depth of his own love to man, and 
 kindling a love like his own in the hearts of men, and thus leading the soul in peni- 
 tence and holy resolution back to its forsaken God. The Saviour's Cross I have not 
 failed to hold up before you as the great means of human redemption, virtue and hap- 
 piness. Thousands have yielded to the power of that Cross, who have resisted all 
 other influences and hardened themselves against all other impressions." 
 
 FROM THE REV. C. A. BARTOL, D. D. 
 
 Boston, March 16, 1864. 
 
 My dear Sir: In complying with your request for my recollections of the 
 Rev. G. AY. Wells, you will allow me to avail ni}'self of some notices of his 
 character that I wrote shortly after his death, when my remembrances of him 
 were more fresh and distinct than they are now. It is only a labour of love 
 with me to pay the tribute to his memory you ask for; for he was as much 
 the man in the minister, and minister in the man, as any one I ever knew. 
 
 I feel, after all, my inability to speak worthily of the character of this 
 departed friend. Though I long knew and loved him, the wide separation of 
 our spheres of labour gave me fewer opportunities than I could have coveted 
 for that close daily observation which is requisite in order to speak with con- 
 fidence of personal dispositions. But his qualities were so simple and evident, 
 his heart was so transparent, that some brief delineation I may not fear to 
 ?give. His most conspicuous trait, which struck the casual observer, and 
 seemed to be the very habit and posture of his mind, was humility. And by 
 this I mean not so much a feeling of distrust, — for he respected and relied 
 upon the powers God had given him, — as an absence of all pretension and 
 self-exaltation. I have never known one whose freedom from every sort of 
 assumption of undue forwardness was more entire. He set up no claim. He 
 thrust in no interference. He invaded no man's place or right. He envied no 
 ■man's distinction. He craved no man's praise. He was quiet and possessed 
 in himself, and made neither show nor noise in the discharge of his duty. 
 I have thought he withdrew himself too much from the notice and acquaint- 
 ance of others. I feel sure that nothing but this voluntary retirement pre- 
 vented a much wider intercourse and fame, such as he secured wherever he 
 could not keep his worth from being known. His self-renouncing modesty so 
 abstained from the least presuming, as with some to inspire a feeling of awe 
 and distance, like what might have come from another man's pride. He had 
 even a diffidence of granting his services to the Society of which he was a 
 child, which they could but once overcome, though I believe no one was heard 
 among them more acceptably. 
 
 Though he had studied diligently the character of Him who was " meek 
 and lowly in heart," he was by no means of a weak and yielding temper. He 
 was not the man to surprise into unworthy concessions. No man ever 
 planted himself more firmly on the ground of his convictions and principles, 
 and pursued more without wavering the course they prescribed. Thus be 
 reduced to a beautiful harmony qualities both good and useful, which might 
 seem at first sight incompatible. 
 
 But the remarkable composition of his character I have not yet fully set 
 forth. His self-sacrifice was as prominent as his self-reliance; his feeling as 
 warm and flowing as his resolve was enduTing. His pledge to the great Cap- 
 tain of his salvation he adhered to, and as a good soldier redeemed. But, at 
 the same time, he denied himself. I do not know whether, if I should inquire 
 of some intimate companion concerning his traits, self-denial and self-sacrifice 
 
GEORGE WADSWORTH WELLS. 531 
 
 would not be the words spoken sooner than any others I have used. Disinter- 
 estedness entered largely into his spiritual elements and his daily walk. No 
 stranger was he to that living, ever-burning, immeasurable principle, — the 
 essence of God, the actuating motive of Jesus, and the crown of his religion, — 
 the principle of love. 
 
 And all these moral qualities were sustained and made effective in a pro- 
 fession, the demands upon which seemed to be daily increasing, by strong and 
 sound powers of mind. He was naturally thoughtful. I have heard from 
 those who had opportunities to know the truth that his bent was more to 
 inward reflection than to outward observation, though his aims and his method 
 were altogether practical. And I should suppose he inclined rather to the 
 severe processes of reasoning than to flights of imagination; while over all his 
 intellectual faculties the moral and spiritual predominated. Doubtless he, 
 like others, had faults; but I never observed nor have been informed of any 
 appearances of such, not resolvable into some excess of the main principles 
 entering into the composition of the virtues. 
 
 Wherever Mr. Wells laboured'in the ministry, he reached his hearers' minds 
 and hearts. He met with the most gratifying success. It was not the success 
 of that loud and transient admiration, which so often deceives both the 
 preacher and the congregation, but the success of making the people more seri- 
 ous in their religious inquiries, more bent upon personal virtue, and more 
 imbued with devotion to God. Few have reached so simply and entirely, to 
 the extent of the powers and opportunities granted, the ends of the ministe- 
 rial profession. 
 
 The personal appearance of Mr. Wells was impressive altogether beyond his 
 physical proportions. He was of a slender frame, but a weighty presence. 
 Slightly stooping, as though from habitual thought and a studious habit, 
 serious in his look and grave in his manner, — so that his smile was like a burst 
 of sunshine on a sober day, — yet no one could be with him without feeling 
 how kind and genial was his atmosphere. He was, indeed, one that bore a 
 heavenly air on earth. Very sincerely yours, 
 
 C. A. BARTOL. ' 
 
 FROM GEORGE B. EMERSON, LL. D. 
 
 Boston, March 25, 1864. 
 
 My dear Sir: In answer to your favour of the 12th, I am sorry to have little 
 to say. 
 
 I knew Mr. Wells at one time very well, and valued and admired and loved 
 him very much. I had been but slightly acquainted with him before he became 
 the minister in my native parish, and the dear and honoured friend of my par- 
 ents and sisters, — my nearest relatives and friends. He was brother of my 
 classmate, J. D. Wells, M. D., whom I had known intimately and loved dearly, 
 first in College, as a gentle, pure, sincere, modest, shy, delicate, unpretending 
 boy; then as the reverential, earnest, exact, truth-loving student of the won- 
 ders of the human frame; then as the able, thoroughly prepared, clear, pow- 
 erful and eloquent lecturer on human anatomy, famous soon in Maine and in 
 Maryland;* and, at last, as a dying Christian, stretched on his bed, worn 
 
 * At a meeting with some of his classmates one evening, after Dr. "Wells had become famous 
 as a lecturer, one of them, who knew the scrupulous fidelity of his professional studies, asked 
 him how he prepared himself for one of his lectures, and his answer was substantially, — 
 for I cannot recal the very words : " "When I have given a lecture in the morning, and am ex- 
 pected to give another at the same hour next day, I commonly sit clown by my fire, and, 
 without looking at a book or at a plate, set myself to find out exactly what I want to say. I 
 get a clear idea of every point, arrange every thing carefully in what seems to me the natural 
 order, and continue to think until I have clearly and distinctly before my mind, in every par- 
 ticular, from beginning to end, the whole of what I shall have to say. Then I am ready. 
 My only tools in the process of preparation are the poker and the tongs." 
 
532 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 out by too long continued thought, study and labour, — submitting, without 
 a murmur to the will of his God, anxious only on account of his mother and 
 others nearest him, and looking forward with unwavering faith and trust to 
 the world opening before him. 
 
 When I heard that the brother of this man was settled in my native town, 
 I naturall}' felt a strong interest in the fact, and took an early opportunity to 
 go " home " and get acquainted with him, to see whether he were really in 
 mind, character and devotedness, the brother of my friend. 
 
 That visit was very satisfactory, as were many others which I made after- 
 wards. I found the old church filled as I had never seen it before. I found 
 people coming in from the neighbouring parishes, — I heard of meetings for 
 religious conversation, I attended one of them and immediately saw that, as 
 soon as Mr. Wells began to speak, it was indeed a religious meeting. There 
 were the unmistakable earnestness and sincerity, and the unpretending dif- 
 fidence, which I knew the meaning of. 
 
 Mr. Wells had thrown off the Sectarian if he had ever been one, and had 
 become a Preacher of the simple Gospel, so that neighbouring believers, of 
 other persuasions, were glad to listen to him and have him come and preach 
 for them. 
 
 I accompanied him one day, after the services in his own church, to a school- 
 house, at some distance, which we found full of ready and anxious hearers. 
 Here I heard not a word of Sectarianism — he had come out not to preach 
 Unitarianism, but to help to make those people better men and women, more 
 faithful servants of God, and more loving followers of the Saviour. 
 
 I was some years older than Mr. Wells, and had been his Tutor in College, 
 and I took the liberty of an elder teacher. On our way home, I advised him 
 to throw away his notes and to preach extempore. << You will get much 
 nearer to the hearts and the heads of those poor people in the school-house, 
 if you let them hear you speaking from the strength of your own convictions, 
 and as moved by your own feelings, than if they see you reading from a writ- 
 ten paper." His natural diffidence filled his thought with the impossibility 
 and his mouth with excuses. I urged the point, and soon sent him " Ware 
 on Extemporaneous Preaching," which had just come out. This spoke to a 
 kindred spirit and did the work. Mr. Wells afterwards lightened his labour 
 and made it more effective, by taking into the pulpit at first only an outline 
 or the heads of his discourse, and, in the end, by having nothing before him 
 but the Bible. Some of the most touching and powerful of his discourses 
 came thus, as his parishioners often assured me, from the abundance of his 
 unwritten thoughts and the warmth of his unfettered affections. 
 
 I remember the sad disappointment of his parishioners and other friends, 
 when it was decided that he could no longer bear the climate of the sea-coast 
 and must go inland. 
 
 After his removal I never saw him. 
 
 If any thing which I have said can be of any use to you, it is gladly placed 
 at your disposal. Very respectfully yours, 
 
 GEORGE B. EMERSON. 
 
 FROM THE HON. GEORGE S. BOUTWELL. 
 
 EX-GOVERNOR OF MASSACHUSETTS, MEMBER OE CONGRESS, ETC. 
 
 Washington City, April 15, 1864. 
 
 Dear Sir: My recollections of the Rev. George W. Wells are not very dis- 
 tinct, as it is now more than twenty years since his death. He was below, 
 rather than above the medium size, of good proportions, features fine, and a 
 rare delicacy of expression. His forehead was broad, and the cast of his face 
 
WILLIAM IIUNT WHITE. 533 
 
 intellectual. lie was reserved and gentle in his manners, but in the pulpit he 
 was sufficiently bold, and never hesitated to avow his opinions on all proper 
 occasions. His style of writing was clear, chaste, methodical and persuasive. 
 His sermons, as I remember them, were often argumentative, though I should 
 not say that his preaching generally was of a highly logical cast. 
 
 There was in Mr. AVells a marked absence of the mannerism not uncommon 
 among the clergy. In daily life, he always appeared the upright, intelligent, 
 considerate, Christian gentleman. 
 
 You could not say that he was highly distinguished for any particular trait; 
 but he was a rare example of the harmonious combination of good intellec- 
 tual endowments with high moral characteristics. 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 
 GEORGE S. BOUTWELL. 
 
 WILLIAM HUNT WHITE. 
 
 1827 — 1853. 
 FROM THE REV. EPHRAIM ABBOT. 
 
 Westford, Mass., August 5, 1864. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I send you the fol- 
 lowing account of a minister whom I knew well, whom I greatly esteemed 
 and honoured while he lived, and who is still embalmed in my affection, 
 ate remembrances. 
 
 William Hunt White was born in Lancaster, Mass., February 4, 
 1798. His parents were rich in piety, but not in worldly goods. His 
 father, Deacon Joseph White, and his ancestors for three or four genera- 
 tions, lived on the same homestead, and were successively Deacons in the 
 same church. The name of his mother before marriage was Rebecca 
 Hoar — she was from Lincoln, Mass., and was sister to the father of the 
 late Hon. Samuel Hoar, of Concord. His father died July 1, 1806, aged 
 fifty-five, leaving a widow and eight children, with little for their support 
 besides his good name and worthy character. His pious, intelligent and 
 affectionate mother lived to see him settled in the ministry, and died March 
 28, 1828, aged sixty-six. 
 
 My acquaintance with Mr. White commenced soon after his Ordination. 
 I had no previous knowledge of him, and am therefore dependent on others 
 for facts respecting his early life. 
 
 When nine or ten years of age he was sent to Westminster to live with 
 his mother's brother, where he remained working on the farm till he was 
 twenty-one years old. During this period he acquired a taste for agricul. 
 ture, and became so skilful in it that he improved the productiveness and 
 value of whatever land he cultivated. I once asked him who sowed his 
 grain for him. He replied that he never trusted anybody but himself to 
 sow for him. Yet he did not permit his love of agriculture to prevent a 
 faithful performance of his ministerial duties. He had constantly in his 
 mind that he was a servant of Christ, and was desirous, above all other 
 things, to be faithful to Him. 
 
534 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 It is believed that he had, from his early years, a conscientious rever- 
 ence for God, and was considered by all who knew him as a young man of 
 much more than ordinary promise. At the age of twenty-one he had 
 received only a common school education, and his pecuniary resources were 
 limited to one hundred dollars, yet he resolved to obtain a college educa- 
 tion and to devote himself to the Gospel imnistiy. He commenced his 
 preparatory studies in public schools, but afterwards found means of pros- 
 ecuting them under that able and faithful teacher, the Rev. Dr. Stearns, 
 of Lincoln, who was very successful in improving the knowledge and morals 
 of many who have since become useful and honourable members of society. 
 While in Lincoln he studied with great diligence, endeavouring to over- 
 come the disadvantages he experienced from want of better opportunities 
 in his earlier years. A companion of his, at that time, has represented 
 that he had then three commanding objects in view — namely, to obtain a 
 liberal education, to be settled in the ministry at Littleton, and to win a 
 daughter of his predecessor, Rev. Edmond Foster.* In each of these 
 particulars his desires were realized. After completing his preparatory 
 studies, he entered Brown University, and graduated with honour in 1824. 
 
 The change from active labour on his uncle's farm to the sedentary 
 habits of a student had an unhappy effect on his health. He is believed to 
 have been an invalid during the whole of his collegiate and ministerial life ; 
 and it is more than probable that his ill health prevented attainments which 
 would have given him high literary reputation. He had quick perceptions 
 and a discriminating mind ; but he had not health, nor strength, nor time 
 to devote to high intellectual accomplishments ; and besides, his convic- 
 tions of duty led him in a different direction. His grand, controlling desire 
 
 * Edmond Foster was born in North Reading, (then called Wood End,) on the 18th of 
 April, 1752. Being left an orphan at the age of seven years, and in indigent circumstances, 
 his education was acquired altogether by his own exertions. He was graduated at Yale 
 College in 1778; and, having pursued his theological studies under the direction of the Key. 
 Dr. Forbes, of Raynham, and afterwards under the Rev. Dr. Stearns, of Lincoln, he was 
 licensed to preach, and, on the 17th of January, 1781, was ordained and installed Pastor of 
 the church and town of Littleton, where he continued till his death, which occurred on the 
 28th of March, 1826, in his seventy-fourth year. On the day of the battle of Concord he 
 was at home on a vacation; and, having heard of the movement of the British, he and sev- 
 eral other young men shouldered their guns, and hastened to the scene of conflict; but the 
 invaders had left before they reached there. He represented the town in which he lived in 
 the State Legislature in 1810, '11 and 5 12, and was a member of the Senate for two or three 
 years afterwards. He was also a member of the Convention for revising the State Constitu- 
 tion in 1820. His salary being small, he laboured on a farm and taught a school for many 
 years. On the 29th of October, 1783, he was married to a daughter of the Rev. William 
 Lawrence [who was born in Groton, Mass., May 7, 1723 ; was graduated at Harvard College 
 in 1743; was ordained and installed Pastor of the church in Lincoln, December 17, 1748, 
 and died April 11, 1780, aged fifty-seven,] and had, by this marriage, thirteen children — 
 ten of whom arrived at mature age. Three of his sons were commissioned officers in the War 
 of 1812-1815; and one has been a representative in Congress from Virginia, where he 
 bought a plantation, sold a part of it, and cultivated the remainder by free labour. Mr. 
 Foster was married, a second time, on the 23d of January, 1816, to Joanna Lcary, of Lin- 
 coln, but had no children by this marriage. He was a man of great animal and moral cour- 
 age, and strong powers of both body and mind, which he retained, in an unusual degree, till 
 the close of life. He was much respected in the region in which he lived, both as a Divine 
 •and a Civilian. He is understood to have been, in his theological views, Anticalvinistic and 
 Unitarian. He published a Sermon at the Ordination of Jonathan Osgood [who was born at 
 Westford, Mass., in the year 1761; was graduated at Yale College in 1787; was ordained, 
 and installed as Pastor of the church in Gardner, Mass., October 19, 1791 ; and died May 
 21, 1821, in his sixty-first year] ; a Sermon on the- Death of Josiah Hartwell, at Littleton, 
 1793; a Discourse at Westford before the Middlesex Martial Bond, 1808; The Massachusetts 
 Election Sermon, 1812; a Sermon at Littleton on the Death of Deacon Daniel Kimball, 
 1813; a Sermon at Littleton on the Completion of a Century from the Incorporation of the 
 Town, 1815 ; and a Thanksgiving Sermon at Littleton for the Restoration of Peacej 1815. 
 
WILLIAM HUNT WHITE. 535 
 
 evidently was to imitate the example of Christ, and do all in his power to 
 advance his kingdom. 
 
 Shortly after his graduation, Mr. White entered the Cambridge Divinity 
 School, where he completed his theological course in 1827. His first 
 efforts in the pulpit were received with marked favour, and each of the 
 only two parishes (namely, Kingston and Littleton,) in which he preached 
 as a candidate, invited him to become its Pastor. He accepted the call 
 from Littleton, and was ordained there on the 2d of January, 1828 — the 
 Rev. Dr. Thayer, of Lancaster, preaching the Ordination Sermon. The 
 religious controversy which divided so many towns in New England had, 
 up to this time, had little influence on Littleton ; and Mr. White, being a 
 great lover of peace, studiously endeavoured to keep out all elements of 
 strife from among his people. In this he was very successful until the 
 year 1840, when Mr. Miller, the founder of the sect called " Latter-Day 
 Saints," established his headquarters in that town, which was the signal 
 for an immense and almost universal excitement. The result was that, in 
 the space of one year, four new churches, including one built by Mr. 
 White's Society, were erected in Littleton, a town containing less than 
 one thousand inhabitants. Mr. White's congregation was still respectable 
 for numbers, and among those who composed it there were an unusual pro. 
 portion of men of weight and influence. During the excitement to which 
 I have referred, so judicious and Christian was the course pursued by Mr. 
 White, that he commanded the respect of all and excited the prejudices of 
 none. He did not waste his energies on what he regarded errors, but 
 preached earnestly truths which he believed was fitted to dissipate them. 
 Only four families left his Society during the excitement. The whole 
 number admitted to his church during his ministry was one hundred and 
 eleven. 
 
 Mr. White was frequently in Ministerial Councils, and assisted at the 
 Ordination and Installation of about thirty ministers. The Middlesex 
 North Unitarian Association was formed at his house, and principally 
 through his influence. He was a member of the Middlesex North Agri. 
 cultural Society, and he was prevented only by ill health from complying 
 with an invitation to deliver an Address at its annual meeting. He was 
 an active member of the Temperance Society, and an earnest advocate of 
 its cause and of the other great reforms of the day. He was a Trustee 
 of the Westford Academy, and, as a member of the Examining Committee, 
 showed that he had much general as well as classic and scientific knowledge. 
 He had a good knowledge of language, and could write and speak in a 
 flowing and even elegant style ; but, in his preaching and in his conversa- 
 tion with his people, he conscientiously avoided the use of hard words. 
 His ministrations were all characterized by great simplicity. He preached 
 from his inmost heart. His Sermons, — to use an expression of the younger 
 Dr. Ware, — "had the power of sympathy and the clearness of knowledge." 
 Hence he was always listened to with interest both at home and abroad, and 
 no clergyman was more heartily welcomed in any of the neighbouring 
 pulpits. 
 
 Mr. White's religious opinions were formed from a careful study of the 
 Holy Scriptures. While he was fully convinced of the absolute unity of 
 
536 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 God, he always spoke of Jesus Christ in a manner that implied his pre- 
 existence ; that implied that He was to him what a mere man could not be. 
 The Rev. Charles Robinson, a former minister of the adjoining town of 
 G-roton, for many years his cotemporary, thus speaks of him : — " He was a 
 diligent student of the Bible, reading it not so much with the eye of the 
 critic as with the insight of the devout and experienced Christian, and 
 reading it that he might draw therefrom wherewithal to nourish his own 
 inward life, and minister to the spiritual necessities of others. But that 
 which, more than any thing else, perhaps, marked and distinguished our 
 brother as a Preacher, was the tone of deep solemnity, the unaffected 
 earnestness, the spiritual glow and unction that characterized his ministra- 
 tions. He was always direct and impressive, addressing himself not so 
 much to the intellect or imagination of his hearers as to their consciences. 
 His theme he felt was Divine, needing no rhetorical flourishes, no elaborate 
 graces of style, to set it forth. Speaking from the fulness of an earnest 
 and loving heart, he spoke to the hearts of his auditors, and sent them 
 away, not to talk of the fine sermon they had heard, but to think of their 
 sins, and duties, and dangers and needs. By his departure, a voice, an 
 influence, an example has been removed from the Church, which, in these 
 times of spiritual dearth and poverty, it can ill afford to spare." 
 
 Mr. White was very faithful in his pastoral duties. In a New Year's 
 Sermon he said, — " I have averaged two, three and four calls annually in 
 your families." The Rev. Barzillai Frost, in an Obituary notice of him, 
 published in the Christian Examiner in 1853, renders the following testi- 
 mony to his pastoral fidelity : — " These" (referring to the calls which he 
 made upon his people) " were not fashionable calls we are sure. They were 
 calls of the man of God, and the most frequent where they were most 
 wanted ; and he brought not only spiritual comfort but material aid. We 
 learn from the best authority that he would give the last cent to the needy ; 
 •and although his means were small, his charities were large. * * * * 
 While he gently fed the feeble of his flock, he carried the lambs in his 
 bosom. His Sunday School was his pride and his joy. For about twelve 
 years " (before his decease) " a large portion of the adult congregation had 
 formed themselves into a class to carry on their religious inquiries and 
 improvement. In the absence of their Pastor, they chose from their num- 
 ber a class-leader to conduct their exercises." 
 
 During more than a quarter of a century he was Chairman of the School 
 Committee, with the exception of one or two years, and he performed all the 
 duties pertaining to his position with religious fidelity; and by his exertions 
 the general tone of intelligence in the town was greatly elevated. In 1829 
 a Lyceum was established, chiefly through his influence, of which he was 
 President most of the time, and an active supporter as long as he had power 
 to aid it. 
 
 Mr. White was always cheerful, even in sickness. Though very modest, 
 he was of an ardent temperament, and engaged with a will in whatsoever 
 he undertook. He had great fortitude and perseverance, and often attended 
 funerals, visited schools, prepared and delivered discourses, under a degree 
 of feebleness and suffering which would have discouraged many others from 
 attempting such services. About two years before his decease, his malady 
 
WILLIAM HUNT WHITE. 537 
 
 began more decidedly to develop itself. At first it was thought to be 
 atrophy ; but it was afterwards found to be an affection of the heart. He 
 received a shock by being upset in a sleigh, which occasioned great loss of 
 blood from the nose. He afterwards had frequent returns of such bleeding 
 till his blood became almost as white as water. During this suffering his 
 nervous system was much excited, his reason was affected, and his spirits 
 in no small degree depressed; but before his departure the cloud passed 
 away, his accustomed cheerfulness returned, and he was filled with peace 
 and joy. 
 
 On the afternoon before his decease he asked his family, and a brother 
 present on a visit, to sing. They sung his favourite hymn, — " There is a 
 land of pure delight," and in some of the words he united his voice. 
 Soon after, supposing him asleep, they were about to unite in evening de- 
 votion; but, on taking his hand and speaking his name, there was a soft and 
 then a deep sigh — an indication as it proved that his work was done and that 
 he was passing to his reward. He died on the 25th of July, 1853. The 
 Sermon at his Funeral was preached by the Eev. David Fosdick, who had 
 supplied Mr. "White's pulpit for several months previous to his death. I was 
 requested to preach on the next Sabbath, and the following is an extract 
 from the Discourse which I delivered. 
 
 " This Church and Society have been called to resign to G-od who gave 
 him, a faithful and devoted Pastor, and an able Blinister of the Lord Jesus, 
 whose praise is in all the churches ; who, for more than a quarter of a 
 century, has been instant in season and out of season, by night and by day, 
 in labouring for your good. He was willing to spend and be spent for you. 
 If he was in his study, it was to prepare instructions for you, which might 
 make you wise unto salvation. If he visited the sick, it was that he might 
 present to them the instructions and the consolations of the Gospel, and sup- 
 plicate for them the pardon of their sins, and restoration to health or pre- 
 paration for the rest that remaineth for the people of God. If he visited 
 from house to house, it was that he might awaken the careless to considera- 
 tion, and guide the inquiring to a knowledge of God, and of Jesus Christ, 
 whom to know aright is life eternal. If he journeyed or worked with his 
 own hands, it was that by bodily exercise, and by diverting his thoughts 
 from severe studies, he might gain strength to fulfil the ministry he had 
 received of the Lord Jesus, and "finish his course with joy, and render 
 up his account with rejoicing." He has laboured for you to the extent of 
 his strength — may I not say beyond his strength. He probably shortened 
 his days by his zeal and exertions to promote religious education and the 
 best interests of all to whom his influence extended. Though his charity 
 began at home, it did not end there. He was frequently in Councils, in 
 Societies, in Corporations and Associations, where his opinions, given with- 
 out ostentation, were always judiciously adapted to the occasion, and list- 
 ened to with interested and respectful attention. Whenever he preached 
 in pulpits other than his own, his services were always received with high 
 approbation, and I shall not say too much if I add, frequently with much 
 admiration. 
 
 -His long sickness has given you opportunity to witness his patience 
 under sufferings, his resignation to the Divine will, his love to God in 
 
538 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Christ, his faith, his hope and his joy in believing. He said to me in one 
 of the visits I made him during his sickness, — " I could lie down to rise 
 no more as cheerfully as I ever lay down to rest." However his sickness 
 'weakened his body or his mind, it took nothing from his faith or his hope. 
 On the contrary, as his bodily strength failed, his faith in Christ, in his 
 instructions and in his promises, seemed to increase. His soul seemed to 
 look through the chinks of his decaying tabernacle, and to see more dis- 
 tinctly the goodness and the grace of God as manifested in the Gospel, and 
 he seemed to have that perfect love which casteth out fear." 
 
 Mr. White was joined in marriage to Bliss Sarah Bass Foster, daughter 
 of the Rev. Edmund Foster, at Shirley, on the 12th of February, 1829. 
 They had six children, three of whom, with their mother, still survive. 
 I may be allowed to say that the widow and children are worthy of their 
 relationship to this excellent man. 
 
 Mr. White was of about the medium height. His form, though rather 
 slender, was well proportioned. Though his complexion was dark, his coun- 
 tenance was pleasant and very expressive, and more cheerful, even in sick- 
 ness, than is usual in persons in health. His eyes were black and uncom- 
 monly brilliant, and, though capable of exciting awe, strongly expressed 
 the benevolence of his heart. His manners were unassuming, easy, win- 
 ning and dignified. Children and young people looked up to him with con- 
 fidence and respect, and conversed with him with as little restraint as with 
 a kind parent, and received his instructions with attention and pleasure. 
 As ever yours, with high esteem and respect, 
 
 EPHRAIM ABBOT. 
 
 CHARLES THEODORE CHRISTIAN EOLLEN, D.C.L.* 
 
 1828 — 1840. 
 
 Charles Theodore Christian Follex, the second son of Christo- 
 pher Follen, Counsellor at Law and Judge, was born at Romrod, in Hesse- 
 Darmstadt, on the 4th of September, 1796. His mother, who was distin- 
 guished for her excellent qualities both of mind and of heart, died when 
 he was hardly three years old ; but, when he was a little more than seven, 
 his father gave him another mother, who well supplied the place of her who 
 had been taken away. He received his elementary education at the Col- 
 lege of Giessen. Here he studied the Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, and 
 Italian languages. In the spring of 1813, and before he was yet seventeen 
 years of age, he passed the regular examination with great honour, and 
 received permission to enter the University of Giessen. He immediately 
 devoted himself to Jurisprudence. 
 
 It was shortly after he entered the University that Germany declared 
 ■war against France. Animated by a spirit of glowing patriotism, he joined 
 a corps of riflemen ; but, a few weeks after he left home, he had a very 
 severe attack of the typhus fever, which prevented him from seeing much 
 
 * Memoir of his Life by Mrs. Follen. 
 
CHARLES THEODORE CHRISTIAN FOLLEN. 539 
 
 active service. At the restoration of Peace in 1814, he returned to Gies- 
 sen, and resumed the study of Jurisprudence at the University. He soon 
 became distinguished for his liberal sentiments, and attached himself to a 
 union, or Burschensckaft, which was strongly suspected of aiming at politi- 
 cal revolution, and he, by his extraordinary zeal and activity, rendered 
 himself especially obnoxious. He wrote a defence of the Burschensckaft, 
 and many patriotic songs, which were published at Jena in 1819 ; and he 
 was one of the authors, though it was not known at the time, of the cele- 
 brated " Great Song," which was considered as breathing the spirit of sedi- 
 tion. In March, 1818, he received the degree of Doctor of Civil Law ; 
 and began immediately to lecture on the various parts of Jurisprudence, 
 while he studied the practice of the Law at the Court where his father 
 presided. 
 
 It was about this time that Dr. Follen was led to a thorough investiga- 
 tion of the Evidences of Revealed Eeligion. It was impossible that a 
 mind constituted like his should receive any system upon trust ; and henee 
 he set himself to the diligent study of the whole subject of Christianity, 
 and more especially of all the deistical and pantheistical objections that 
 have been urged against it. The result was a most unwavering conviction 
 that the Bible contains a Revelation from Heaven. In one of his lectures 
 in which he was urging a courageous examination of the arguments for and 
 against Christianity, he said, — " For myself, I can certainly say that, next 
 to the Gospel itself, the books that have been written against it have been 
 the most efficient promoters of my belief in its Divine truth." 
 
 In 1818, when Dr. Follen was only twenty-two years of age, he was 
 employed as Counsellor in a cause of very high importance. The Govern- 
 ment had passed a law establishing a commission to collect the debts of 
 the communities of towns and villages of the Province of Hesse, incurred 
 during the late war ; and these communities employed Dr. Follen to resist 
 what they deemed an unreasonable claim on the part of the Government. 
 A remonstrance had already been made against it, but the Government had 
 met it only with a frown, and threatened to deprive any counsellor of his 
 office who should venture to place himself in conflict with this oppressive 
 law. Follen, nothing daunted by this threat, did not hesitate to undertake 
 the cause; and he, accordingly, drew up a petition in relation to the mat- 
 ter, which was presented to the Grand Duke, and distributed extensively 
 among the people. He succeeded in obtaining a repeal of the law, but he 
 did it at the expense of bringing upon himself a bitter persecution, and 
 ruining all his hopes in his own Province. Under these circumstances, he 
 left Giessen, and accepted an invitation to lecture in the University of Jena. 
 
 When he had been in Jena about six months, Kotzebue, who had long 
 been an object of hatred and contempt to the liberal party on account of 
 his heartless ridicule of their most cherished purposes, was assassinated by 
 a young fanatic in the cause of freedom by the name of Sand. Follen 
 was accused of being an accomplice, and was twice arrested ; but, though 
 every possible effort was made to prove him guilty, there was no evidence 
 against him, and he was honourably acquitted. About the same time he 
 was arrested on the charge of being the author of the " Great Song," but 
 here again there was an utter absence of any proof upon which he could 
 
540 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 be convicted. Still, he was not a little annoyed by these artful examina- 
 tions ; and, being forbidden to continue his lectures in Jena, he returned 
 to Giessen. 
 
 Here he quickly discovered that he was still an object of suspicion with 
 the Government, and that they were even making their arrangements to 
 imprison him. Being satisfied that his only safety was in flight, he resolved 
 on leaving Germany. He stopped first at Strasburg, where he occupied 
 himself for some little time in the study of architecture. His clothes, 
 books, and valuable papers, which he left behind, were, by his request, 
 directed to him at Strasburg ; but the vessel by which they were sent took 
 fire, and every thing that was designed for him was destroyed. While at 
 this place, he made a visit to Paris, where he became acquainted with 
 Lafayette, and through him with the Abbe Gregoire, Benjamin Constant, 
 and many other persons of note. After the murder of the Duke of Berri, 
 an order was passed by the French Government requiring all foreigners to 
 quit France who were not there on special business that met the sanction 
 of the Government. This obliged Dr. Follen to leave the country ; but, 
 fortunately, just at this time the Countess of Benzel Sternau, who knew 
 his story, invited him to visit her at her country seat upon the Lake of 
 Zurich, in Switzerland. He accepted the invitation, and there, for some 
 time, enjoyed the most generous and refined hospitality, as well as one of 
 the richest scenes of natural beauty which the world affords. 
 
 In the summer of 1821, while Dr. Follen was at Zurich, he received an 
 invitation to become a Professor at the Cantonal School of the Grisons in 
 Switzerland, of which, shortly after, he signified his acceptance. But in 
 his Lectures on History to the higher classes, he advanced certain views 
 favourable to Unitarianism, which gave offence to some Calvinistic minis- 
 ters, and ultimately awakened an extensive prejudice against him in the 
 Canton. He requested of the Evangelical Synod an audience, at their 
 next meeting, for the purpose of defending the doctrines he had put forth ; 
 and the request was granted, but the meeting was so hastily dissolved that 
 he was not able to gain a hearing. The Moderator, however, who was con- 
 sidered at the head of the Calvinistic clergy in that Canton, gave him a 
 certificate of his having applied to the Synod for an audience, and also of 
 the general acceptableness of his services in connection with the institu- 
 tion. Dr. Follen now asked of the Council of Education his dismission 
 from the School, and he received it with another very high testimonial in 
 respect to his talents, learning, and fidelity as a teacher. 
 
 Soon after it was known that Dr. Follen was about to leave Chur, (for 
 that was the seat of his school,) he was appointed Public Lecturer of the 
 University of Basle, where he taught the Natural, Civil, and Ecclesiastical 
 Law, together with Logic, and the Philosophy of the mind in its applica- 
 tion to Religion, Morals, Legislation, and the Fine Arts. He also, witli 
 DeWette and some other Professors in the University, edited a literary 
 journal ; which contains two important treatises of his — one on " The Des- 
 tiny of Man," the other on " The Doctrine of Spinoza," particularly in 
 regard to Law and Morals. 
 
 During his residence both at Chur and Basle, a demand was made by 
 the Allied Powers for his surrender as a Revolutionist. It was twice 
 
CHARLES THEODORE CHRISTIAN FOLLEN. 541 
 
 refused, but, on its renewal a third time, accompanied with a declaration 
 that a continued refusal would interrupt the. harmony that existed between 
 the two Governments, Basle consented to his arrest, and an order for it 
 was accordingly issued. As soon as this became known, his numerous 
 friends were on the alert to provide, if possible, for his safety ; and ona 
 of them actually took him out of the city, secreted under the boot of his 
 chaise, while another, whose personal appearance strongly resembled his, 
 gave him his passport. He left Basle on the 27th of October, 1824, in 
 the mail coach, and arrived at Paris on the 30th, where he found his friend, 
 Dr. Beck, who had left Basle a few days before him. They proceeded 
 together to Havre, and immediately engaged their passage in the Cadmus, 
 Captain Allen ; but the sailing of the vessel was delayed four days by a 
 contrary wind, and it was not till she was actually under weigh that Dr. 
 Follen could feel any security that he should not be arrested and impris- 
 oned. He was occupied during the voyage, partly in developing and matur- 
 ing a long cherished scheme of religious philanthropy, partly in learning 
 the English language, and partly in studying, with his friend, Dr. Beck, u. 
 German work on the Constitution of the United States. He arrived safely 
 at New York on the 19th of December. 
 
 Shortly after his arrival, he wrote to his friend, General Lafayette, who 
 was then in this country, invoking his influence in procuring for him some 
 field of useful occupation. The result was that, through the exertions of 
 Mr. Duponceau, of Philadelphia, and Professor Ticknor, whom General 
 Lafayette enlisted in his behalf, he was appointed, in the autumn of 1825, 
 teacher of the German language in Harvard University. 
 
 Dr. Follen now established himself at Cambridge, and met a cordial 
 welcome from the Faculty of the College, and especially from its Presi- 
 dent, Dr. Kirkland. A class was soon formed in Boston to hear his Lec- 
 tures on the Civil Law, and this introduced him at once to much of the 
 best society in the metropolis. In the spring of 1826 he accepted a pro- 
 posal to take charge of a Gymnasium in Boston ; and, at the same time, he 
 undertook the direction of the gymnastic exercises of the students in Har- 
 vard College. Almost immediately after going to Cambridge, he began to 
 prepare a German Reader, and then a German Grammar ; while he devoted 
 no small part of his time to the study of the English language and litera- 
 ture. 
 
 In the winter of 1826-27 the teachers of the Sunday School in Dr. 
 Channing's church were accustomed to meet in his study, once a fortnight, 
 to discuss with him and each other the subject of religious education. 
 Dr. Follen, by request of one of the teachers, attended these meetings; 
 and the very intelligent and satisfactory part that he took in them Jed one 
 of his friends, who was present, to suggest to him the idea of becoming a 
 minister of the Gospel. At first, he thought there were insuperable obsta- 
 cles to it ; but further reflection convinced him of the contrary, and he was 
 very soon engaged in preparing himself to preach, being greatly aided by 
 the sympathy and counsel of his friend, Dr. Channing. In consequence of 
 this change of purpose, he resigned the charge of the Boston Gymnasium. 
 
 On the 28th of July, 1828, Dr. Follen was regularly admitted as a can- 
 didate for the ministry. He preached on the following Sunday for the Rev. 
 
542 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood, at King's Chapel, and immediately after received an invi- 
 tation to supply the pulpit at Nahant, for three or four Sundays, during 
 his college vacation. In August of this year he was appointed Permanent 
 Instructor in Ecclesiastical History and Ethics in the Theological School 
 connected with the College. On the 15th of September he was married to 
 Eliza Lee, daughter of Samuel and Sarah Cabot, of Boston ; and thev 
 immediately commenced house-keeping in Cambridge. 
 
 In the summer of 1830 Dr. Follen spent several weeks at Newburyport, 
 supplying the Unitarian congregation, and in due time he received an invi- 
 tation to become their Pastor. This invitation lie would probably have 
 accepted, but that, about the same time, he was elected Professor of Ger- 
 man Literature at Harvard, — an office which, on several accounts, he 
 thought it best to accept. In the autumn of this year he resigned his 
 place as Teacher of Elhics and Ecclesiastical History; and thus terminated 
 his connection with the Cambridge Divinity School. Shortly after this he 
 made his arrangements for delivering a course of Lectures on Moral Philo- 
 sophy in Boston, which attracted much attention, and were on the whole 
 very successful. 
 
 In the summer of 1833 Dr. Follen became deeply interested in the 
 writings and doings of the Anti-slavery Society, which had then been in 
 existence only one year. His mind was strongly drawn in that direction, 
 insomuch that he felt himself called upon to become identified with the 
 enterprise, even though admonished by some of his friends that such a step 
 might prejudice his interests in connection with the University. As the 
 term of subscription for the German Professorship was to expire in a little 
 more than a year, he was desirous of ascertaining whether it would be 
 renewed, and, if not, whether any other satisfactory provision in the Col- 
 lege would be made for him ; but it turned out that the Professorship was 
 to be discontinued, and no other arrangement was proposed by which he 
 could be retained in the institution. As this left him with only five hun- 
 dred dollars a year, as Teacher of the German language, for the support 
 of his family, he found it necessary to seek employment elsewhere; and, 
 accordingly, he projected a plan for establishing an institution of a very 
 high character in Boston, to be styled " The Boston Seminary ;" but his 
 inability to command the requisite pecuniary resources obliged him almost 
 immediately to abandon it. In the winter of 1834-35 he preached, for 
 some time, to a number of families in East Lexington, who had requested 
 him to assist them in the formation of a Beligious Society in that village. 
 In January, 1835, he communicated to the Corporation of College, through 
 the President, his resignation of his office as German Teacher, which was 
 accepted. Shortly after this he removed to Watertown, and received 
 under his care several pupils, and in the autumn of that year removed to 
 Milton, instead of passing the winter in the city, as had been originally 
 contemplated. Though this was a very pleasant change to him, and his 
 services were altogether acceptable to his employers, he felt constrained, 
 on account of some peculiar circumstances, to relinquish it at the close of 
 the year. 
 
 In April, 1836, Dr. Follen, having given up his comfortable establish- 
 ment, had no longer any fixed home, and no employment was offered 
 
CHARLES THEODORE CHRISTIAN EOLLEN. 543 
 
 him. He went, with his family, to Stockbridge, where he took lodgings, 
 in the midst of some kind friends, in the hope of being able to prosecute 
 certain literary enterprises which he had projected. In June he made a 
 visit to Niagara Falls, and proceeded thence to Chicago, where he addressed 
 a company of Unitarians, and was instrumental in inaugurating a course of 
 measures for the establishment of a new church. 
 
 Soon after his return to Stockbridge he received an invitation to preach 
 two Sundays for tho First Unitarian Society in New York ; and, having 
 complied with this request, he was asked to remain longer, with an under- 
 standing that his services would be desired at least for the ensuing winter. 
 Having received Ordination in Boston, he returned to New York, where 
 he came under an engagement to preach for the next six months; and, at 
 the end of that time, his engagement was renewed for one year. But, be- 
 tween the close of the first and the commencement of the second engage- 
 ment, he spent a few weeks in supplying the Unitarian Church in Washing- 
 ton, by particular request of Judge Cranch ; and his services here were 
 received with great favour. He remained in New York until May, 1838, 
 when he took leave of the church with which he had been temporarily con- 
 nected, chiefly on account of the opposition to him which had been excited 
 by his intense devotion to the cause of Anti-slavery. He now returned to 
 Boston, and took lodgings at Milton, intending to devote his whole time to 
 his " Psychology,'' a favourite work which was then in progress. He very 
 soon transferred his lodgings from Milton to Boston, and officiated, for 
 some time, in the pulpit of the Rev. Mr. Cunningham, who was then tem- 
 poriirily absent from his charge. 
 
 Dr. Follen, after much deliberation, had resolved on visiting his friends 
 in Switzerland ; for he had received satisfactory assurances that he might 
 do this with safety, though it was thought that it would be perilous for him 
 to attempt to visit Germany. But he was prevented from carrying out his 
 purpose by an urgent request from the Society in East Lexington, which 
 he had been instrumental in gathering, to come and take charge of their 
 religious concerns for six mouths or a year. The appeal to him was so 
 earnest that he knew not how to deny it; and therefore he reluctantly con- 
 sented to postpone his transatlantic visit, and took up his residence at East 
 Lexington, where his labours were highly acceptable, and he was instru- 
 mental in the erection of a small but beautiful church. But just before 
 the church was to be dedicated, he had occasion to go to New York to 
 deliver several lectures. During his sojourn there, Mrs. Follen was taken 
 seriously ill, and, for some time, her life was nearly despaired of. The 
 15th of January had been agreed upon as the time for the Dedication of 
 the church, but Mrs. Follen's illness rendered it impossible that she should 
 return so early, and he wrote to his parish requesting that the dedicatory 
 solemnity might' be .deferred a little, so as to save him the trouble of mak- 
 ing two journeys in the winter ; but they did not see their way clear to 
 accede to his wishes. Accordingly, leaving his wife and child behind him, 
 and bavin"- his Dedication Sermon only partially prepared, he embarked in 
 the steamer Lexington, on the 13th of January, for Boston, intending to 
 set out on his return as soon as the services of the Dedication were over. 
 The steamer, before she had half made her passage, took fire, and large 
 
544 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 numbers, among whom was Dr. Follen, perished in the conflagration. He 
 left a widow, who since died, and one child, (Charles Christcpher ,) who was 
 graduated at Harvard College in 1849, and is now (1862) a'n architect in 
 Boston. 
 
 Dr. Follen's works, with a Memoir of his Life written by Mrs. Follen, 
 were published in five volumes, in 1841. 
 
 FROM THE KEY. GEORGE F. SIMMOXS. 
 
 Albany, November 3, 1853. 
 
 My dear Sir: The following are some of my memories of Dr. Pollen, and I 
 shall be glad if they may be of any service to you. 
 
 I first knew him as a teacher in the Boston Gymnasium. In the various 
 calisthenic exercises he was something of an adept; and he, all his life, re- 
 tained great muscular vigour, and would lay his hand on the rail of a fence, 
 and leap over it with an agility and ease which surprised those unaccustomed 
 to the development of this bodily energy in scholars. 
 
 In the pulpit, a certain foreign accent and slowness of enunciation rendered his 
 delivery less agreeable. But he had acquired great command of the language, 
 and his pronunciation was surprisingly correct. In public discourse he was 
 distinguished by a certain fervent simplicity, a kind of boyhood of mind, 
 which he ever retained.. He was also distinguished by a poetic reverence which 
 is characteristic of the preachers of his native land, which showed itself still 
 more in the tones of his voice than in his language. His enthusiasm, which 
 was large, never seemed to find full vent in the pulpit. His treatment of a 
 subject might sometimes be esteemed common-place. He rarely stirred the 
 deepest sensibilities of his audience. His preaching was usually neither pun- 
 gent nor commanding. But there was a persuasive gentleness and sincerity 
 of tone, a fairness and a candour in argument, and a, maturity of thought, 
 which gained the respect and affectionate assent of the hearer. 
 
 Dr. Follen took a lively interest in the Slavery question, and was an uncom- 
 promising and outspoken friend and member of the Anti-slavery league. His 
 zeal, however, never betrayed him into acerbity or intolerance. He was not 
 made to be a bigot in an}' department of thought or action. 
 
 In private his manners were pleasing. They were distinguished by suav- 
 ity and industrious politeness. He was much loved and honoured by his inti- 
 mate friends. When I was a boy at Dr. Channing's table, I made bold to 
 enquire of the host if he " knew Dr. Follen." << Oh yes, my dear," replied 
 the Doctor, in his tones of affectionate sweetness, " he is a very dear friend of 
 mine." And the friendship continued strong and mutual to the end. 
 
 Dr. Follen had the features and stature of the Suabian race. He was rather 
 short, with a round and large head, set very closely on square shoulders, a 
 large mouth which easily relaxed into a broad smile, eyes set very far apart, 
 large and somewhat projecting, a great width at the temples, and a broad and 
 retreating forehead, on which a little thin brown silken hair lay softly. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 GEORGE F. SIMMONS. 
 
 FROM MISS ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 Boston, June 15, 1854. 
 My dear Sir: Dr. Follen came to Boston with letters to the Miss Cabot, 
 who afterwards became his wife, from Miss Sedgwick, the authoress; and 
 she proposed, when he called one evening, to take him with her to Dr. Chan- 
 ning's study, ivherc were used to gather ever}' Thursday evening the Sunday 
 
CHARLES THEODORE CHRISTIAN FOLLEN. 545 
 
 School teachers of Dr. O.'s congregation, to consider together the passages 
 of the Gospels, which were to form the subjects of their several lessons to 
 their classes, on the ensuing Sunday. The teachers' meeting had been some 
 years in existence; and, in the course of time, it had come to be the plan to 
 converse upon some general subject, after the special business of the meeting 
 was over. It happened, at this time, that, for several successive evenings, the. 
 subject had been the significance of the death of Christ, together with all 
 its circumstances, especially the Agony in the Garden. Questions were asked 
 by various individuals, which were answered by whoever had any thing to 
 say. In the course of the evening, something had been said about the fact of 
 men's dying for certain causes, and from the inspiration of the passions merely. 
 By and by, Dr. Channing, looking around the room which was filled with 
 people, observed Dr. Follen, quite hidden behind the rest, and said, with a 
 desire to draw him out, if perchance there was any thing in him worth saying, 
 — " Dr. Follen, can you tell us what they say on this great subject in your 
 country? " — We none of us knew whether he had any religious experience or 
 not; or if he had, whether, when thus suddenly called upon among strangers, 
 he could or would express himself. He was extremely modest, and his colour 
 deepened and mounted; but he immediately, with great simplicity and earnest- 
 ness of manner, replied in a speech worded with the greatest perspicuity and 
 felicity of expression, of which I can only give the substance. 
 
 lie said he could only speak for himself, and did not know as he could ex- 
 press himself in a foreign tongue, upon a subject so sublime, and so in- 
 timately involving religious experience. The death of Christ, he thought, 
 was the only purely moral action which had ever been done on the plane of 
 humanity, and therefore it lifted humanity upon a higher plane, and above the 
 passions, putting it into spiritual union with God, — which he considered the 
 atonement. This idea had come to him in such a way as to illustrate the 
 words — " No man cometh unto me, except the Father draw him." " I was 
 born in Germany," said he, " during an era that was practically atheistic. 
 The Catholic religion was established in the region where I lived; but the cul- 
 tivated classes did not profess to believe it. My own first impression of Chris- 
 tianity was that it was a superstition of the vulgar, only less tasteful in its 
 imaginary objects than those presented by the symbolic Mythology of Greece 
 and Rome. I had no thought that any one believed it, — not even its priests 
 and dispensers, if they were at all cultivated. There is no part of Germany 
 so entirely irreligious now. The wars of Buonaparte produced indirectly a 
 general religious movement among the Catholics of Germany, as well as among 
 the Protestants. I was a student, and once, on an examination occasion, I 
 was shut up alone in a, room in which was no furniture but a table, with pen, 
 ink and paper, and my task was to write a theme explaining the well known 
 fact that a man could die for the object of his thought and affection. This 
 hour began a new era in my life. My first thought was utter despair. I had 
 never reflected on the subject and had nothing to say. But there was a neces- 
 sity upon me — I asked myself howl was to gain the power to originate 
 thoughts on my theme, and I was brought to see that this intellectual power 
 that was to be aroused within me, must have a fountain of supply homoge- 
 neous with it; for it was plainly not self-intelligent or self-comprehending. 
 The exercise by which it strengthened itself to accomplish u, task like the 
 present one, in the last analysis, could be but an act of recipiency — effort was 
 action upon an infinite Spirit; and the reaction was a continuation of the act, 
 which originally created me a conscious being. This idea of living communion, 
 with my Creator gave me a flood of light, and, with unquestioning faith that 
 .power would be given me to comprehend my subject, I began to consider the 
 ■ several objects which history proved could induce a man to give'up his life — 
 
 Vol. VIII. 35 
 
546 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 what gave up and what was given up. There was something that could not 
 die within a man, that stood up as it were, and gave away what was below 
 and external to itself. That there was something immortal in the human con- 
 sciousness was proved by the fact that there was something mortal that could 
 be separated from him and given away by it. The unconscious prayer of faith, 
 which my intellect was making, thus brought a revelation of immortality as 
 its immediate, answer. I then proceeded to analyze the objects for which men 
 had sacrificed themselves in Greece and Rome; and, finding them inadequate 
 to measure the power of giving away life, I remembered that the nucleus of 
 the popular religion was a death. Having finished m}' theme, this last fact, 
 of which I knew no particulars, was not forgotten, and drew me to inquire 
 into the history of Christianity : and at length I found and read the New Testa- 
 ment." He then proceeded to state the views of the death of Christ which 
 made him a Christian. It was all exceedingly individual and impressive. The 
 company sat quite entranced, as these passages of the # deep inner life were so 
 simply narrated; and when he ended, there was a dead silence. 
 
 Dr. Channing had been entirely absorbed, his countenance growing brighter 
 at every word, and when it was done, he did a most characteristic thing, (for 
 he was the most straightforward and transparent person in his conduct.) He 
 saw he had sprung a mine; for here was a man whose religion was not 
 an inheritance, nor an imitation, nor a convention of society, but the covenant 
 of a consciously finite being with God, begun by the Spirit, and made manifest 
 in knowledge of Jesus Christ. lie wished the whole company absent that he 
 might talk with Dr. Follen, and he pulled out his watch and rose up. Imme- 
 diately the whole company rose also with a smile at each other, and began to 
 disperse; while he stood, rapt in thought, till there was a free path between 
 himself and Dr. Follen. Then he darted towards him, held out his hand, and 
 said, with the most impressive cordiality, — " Dr. Follen, we must know one 
 another more." Dr. Follen gave his hand with a face glowing with feeling, 
 and eyes full of tears, though they shone with the joy of mutual recognition. 
 
 And from that moment was cemented a friendship, that never had a shadow 
 of misunderstanding fall upon it, but was a perfect mutual respect and tender 
 love. I heard them talk together a great deal, as I usually spent my evenings 
 with Dr. Channing; and I heard each of them speak of the other frequently, 
 when they were apart. They were in union upon general principles, though 
 they often took very different views of special objects. Dr. Channing was the 
 most Germanic mind of the two, if we define the Germanic mind as that which 
 believes that individualities are of depth immeasurable by reason. Dr. Follen 
 tended towards sacrificing individualities to laws, and individuals to humanity. 
 
 I remember, in illustration of this, that, on the question < whether, if your 
 father or Fenelon (who stood for any peculiar benefactor of humanity) were 
 to be saved from death, and you could save but one, you should save your 
 
 father or Fenelon,' Dr. Follen took the ground that you should saveTenelon, 
 
 while Dr. Channing inclined to follow the lead of the natural affection. At 
 the great trial in JEschylus' Eumenides, Dr. Channing would have taken the 
 side of the Furies, and Dr. Follen that of Apollo, I am sure. "When consid- 
 ering the subject of gratitude to men, I remember Dr. Follen took ground 
 against cultivating the sentiment of gratitude to any great extent. He said 
 the despotisms of Europe werecemented, to a great degree, by grateful senti- 
 ments, which induced fidelity to princes who conferred favours, to the destruc- 
 tion of a sensibility to the liberty of humanity in general. He thought Christian 
 charity chastised the sentiments of gratitude, friendship, family affection &c, 
 as well as what are more commonly called the passions. Still he was not in 
 the least deficient himself in personal affections; and there is a series of beau- 
 tiful articles upon the immortality of the human affections, which he published 
 
CHARLES THEODORE CHRISTIAN FOLLEN. 547 
 
 in tho Christian Examiner. He sympathized very much with the glowing en- 
 thusiasm of youth and the fervours of an elevated devotion; and was ardent 
 as a lover of liberty, individual and national. His temperament was warm, 
 but his temper was perfectly sweet, because his impulses were in harmony 
 with his principles, and he was above all petty personal passions and interests 
 absolutely. 
 
 I have said he would sacrifice individuals to humanity; but this was guarded 
 by a clear sense of justice. All the sacrifices he believed in were sclf-sacri- 
 fices. On the American Slavery question, he was a warm emancipator, but 
 an uncompromising compensationist. Standing in the light which lightcth 
 every man that cometh into the world, with a clear intelligence of its being 
 " the Word that was in the beginning," and receiving it with the humility 
 that exalteth, he was proof against fanaticism, whether of the good or evil 
 intentioned. He believed with Coleridge that " Christianity is the perfection 
 of Reason." Earnestness was perhaps his most distinctive trait. His mind 
 was comprehensive of principle, but he did not carry his brain in his hand so 
 much as in his heart; and he was not witty, nor naturally executive. He had 
 no " touch and go " about him. His method of treating a subject was to begin 
 with the fundamental fact or principle, and build it up with honest fidelity; 
 working long about the foundations and neglecting nothing; so that, in our 
 " fast " country, he was liable to be left in the rear by competitors who were 
 altogether inferior to him. 
 
 I think his mind was not at all creative — it certainly was not imaginative; 
 but he could comprehend any depth of principle presented to his apprehension, 
 and feel any beauty of form. His vocation was to act humanity; and, as a 
 teacher and director of youth, he was endowed with the highest qualifications 
 by nature and culture, as all will testify who had the privilege of his instruc- 
 tion and guardianship. He was also courageous as he was earnest; and these 
 qualities were in him related to each other, and to the steadfastness of his 
 religious faith and his pervasive humanity. 
 
 Dr. Eollen had been a German patriot, and he became a fervent American 
 patriot; for he valued political liberty as a necessary condition of the develop- 
 ment of a christianized humanity; and he never ceased to wonder, during- his 
 whole residence in America, at the want of religious earnestness in American 
 patriots. I remember once, when he was in Dr. Channing's pulpit, and was 
 thanking God for the privileges of American citizenship, in behalf of the whole 
 congregation, he paused and made an address to the people, to call their atten- 
 tion to the deep character of the blessing, and its bearing on their religious 
 privileges, in order that they might join with him more fervently than he feared 
 they were doing; and afterwards went on with his prayert Of course it 
 startled people and they did not like it. 
 
 But Dr. Follen seldom offended. I never knew any foreigner who seemed to 
 be so easily and widely understood and appreciated by Americans. In fact 
 he was less of a German than a Christian cosmopolite. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 ELIZABETH P. PEABODT. 
 
548 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 HERSEY BRADFORD GOODWIN * 
 
 1829—1836. 
 
 Hersey Bradford Goodwin was born at Plymouth, Mass., August 
 18, 1805. His father, William Goodwin, was a highly respected citizen, 
 and, for many years, Cashier of the Plymouth Bank. His mother and 
 step-mother were daughters of Capt. Simeon Sampson, distinguished as a 
 naval officer during the "War of the Revolution. He received the rudi- 
 ments of his education in his native town, and was prepared for College at 
 the Sandwich Academy, under the instruction of Mr. Bernard Whitman, 
 afterwards minister of Waltham, whom he held in the highest estimation, 
 both as a teacher and a friend. He entered Harvard College in 1822, 
 and, after most creditably passing through his course, graduated, with high 
 honour, in 1826. 
 
 Immediately after his graduation, Mr. Goodwin, in accordance with his 
 youthful predilections, and in fulfilment of an early formed purpose, com- 
 menced the study of Divinity at the Theological School at Cambridge. 
 Here he prosecuted his studies with great ardour, being more especially 
 interested in whatever related to the interpretation of the Scriptures. In 
 the summer of 1829 he received the approbation of the Middlesex Asso- 
 ciation, and immediately began to preach. The First Parish in Concord, 
 Mass., wishing, at this time, to procure a colleague for their Pastor, the 
 Rev. Dr. Ripley, made overtures on the subject to Mr. Goodwin ; but he 
 was unwilling to assume at once the responsibilities of a pastoral charge. 
 After this, he preached, for some time, to a new Unitarian Society in Ro- 
 chester, N. Y., and was urgently requested to settle among them ; but, 
 after much reflection, felt constrained to decline their invitation. He 
 returned to New England in November, 1829, received and accepted a call 
 from the parish in Concord, and was ordained and installed February 17, 
 1880. The Sermon on the occasion was preached by his own Pastor, the 
 Rev. Dr. Kendall, of Plymouth. He was received by the people with great 
 cordiality and even enthusiasm. His venerable colleague also heartily 
 welcomed him To share his labours, and, as long as he lived, their inter- 
 course was characterized by parental affection and solicitude on the one 
 hand, and a lively filial deference and consideration on the other. 
 
 In June, 1830, Mr. Goodwin was married to Lucretia Ann Watson, of 
 Plymouth, a lady, whose fine intellectual, moral and social qualities were 
 every way fitted to render him happy. The union, however, was destined 
 to be brief, as she died suddenly, on the 11th of November, 1831. He 
 felt the shock most deeply, and yet he met it with great composure of spirit. 
 In a letter to a friend, written shortly after, he says, — " I was denied the 
 satisfaction of conversing with my dear Lucretia before she died, upon the 
 subject of our separation, for the first very alarming symptom we had, was the 
 change which rendered her entirely insensible to all outward objects. I 
 comfort myself with the thought that she is only separated from me for a 
 
 * Christ. Exam., 1837.— MS. from Rev. Dr. Hosmer. 
 
HERSEY BRADFORD GOODWIN. 549 
 
 little while, and I thick I oan rejoice in the belief that I have that she is 
 gone to the Father." 
 
 Mr. Goodwin's health suffered severely in consequence of his affliction, 
 so that serious apprehensions came to be entertained that his constitution 
 would finally sink under it. In the spring of 1833 he travelled West and 
 Southwest, for the benefit of his health, extending his journey as far as St. 
 Louis. During his absence, he wrote several interesting letters, which 
 were first published in the Old Colony Memorial, and some of them after- 
 wards copied into the Christian Register. After an absence of five months, 
 he returned to his people, in September, with his health apparently quite 
 re-established, and resumed his pastoral labours with his accustomed zeal 
 and energy. In June, 1834, he was married to Amelia Mackay, of Bos- 
 ton, who cheered the brief remainder of his life by her affectionate conjugal 
 attentions, and survived to mourn his loss. His health continued good till 
 October, 1835, when he went to Connecticut to attend at the death-bed of 
 a near relative. Here he was deprived of his accustomed rest, and exposed 
 to great fatigue ; the consequence of which was that he returned home, 
 exhausted and asthmatic. From this time he found it necessary to avoid 
 the evening air, as well as the air of close and heated rooms. He ceased 
 to attend at the Lyceum, except when he lectured himself. He, however, 
 continued to visit the schools, preached regularly, and went to an Ordina- 
 tion at Framingham, on the coldest day known for eighteen years, without 
 apparently suffering injury. In March, 1836, he delivered two lectures 
 before the Lyceum, the preparation of which manifestly aggravated his 
 complaint. At the town meeting, on the 4th of April, he read a long 
 Report, accompanying it by a speech of some length, after which he seemed 
 much exhausted, and gave unmistakable signs of serious illness. From 
 this time he declined to serve on the school committee, on the ground that 
 the duties of his parish demanded all the physical strength that remained 
 to him. In April his symptoms suddenly assumed a more alarming type, 
 which led him to seek medical advice from Dr. Jackson, of Boston. His 
 complaint was pronounced an affection of the heart, which might continue 
 for years, or terminate suddenly in death at any time. After a few weeks' 
 stay in Boston, he returned to Concord, and, by permission of his physi- 
 cian, preached once. As he still rather grew worse than better, he went 
 to Plymouth to seek quiet and relaxation amidst the friends of his early 
 years. For some time after his arrival there, his health, though variable, 
 seemed prevailingly better. On Thursday, July 7th, after having spent 
 the day in riding, walking and conversing, he retired apparently as well as 
 usual ; but, during the night, was suddenly seized with paralysis, and 
 never afterwards spoke or opened his eyes. He remained insensible 
 through the day, and died early on the morning of Saturday, the 9th. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin had three children, — one by the first marriage, and two 
 by the second. William Watson, a son of the first wife, was graduated 
 at Harvard College in 1851, and, in 1860, was appointed to the Eliot Pro- 
 fessorship of Greek Literature in the same institution. 
 
550 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSMER, D. D. 
 
 Buffalo. November 4, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir : You are aware, I suppose, that the lamented friend of whom 
 you have asked me to give you some account, spent the years of his childhood 
 and youth amidst the venerable objects and associations of the Pilgrim Fathers' 
 resting place. I have testimony that his early years were full of grace and 
 beauty. His step-mother, who stood fast by the ancient landmarks of the 
 Assembly's Catechism, used to say that " it did seem to her that Hersey was 
 one at least who never fell." After the death of Mr. Goodwin, in 1836, Dr. 
 Kendall, who had known him from his birth, speaks of him, in a Funeral 
 Sermon, in these affectionate terms: — "His sober, thoughtful countenance, 
 even in childhood, we well remember. His eye and his heart already pointed 
 upwards, and seemed to indicate the profession that would be his choice, and 
 the holy vocation he was purposed to pursue. From the cradle to the grave, 
 we have seen his course marked by the same purity of principle, the same in- 
 tegrity of purpose, the same devout aspirations, the same consistency of 
 Christian character." 
 
 My first knowledge of Mr. Goodwin was in 1822, when we met as classmates 
 in Harvard College. I well remember my first visit to his room, and the 
 pleasant impression he made upon me. The little child and the mature man 
 were finely blended in his talk and bearing; so simple, yet so intelligent; — 
 amiable and easy, yet never losing a dignified propriety. He soon became, 
 without seeming to think of it, a great favourite in the class. I think no one 
 among us was so universally known, and none more deeply loved. I do not 
 remember that his friendships had any clouds; his goodness of heart was con- 
 stant and unbounded, and kept perpetual sunshine wherever he was. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin was a superior scholar — though not keenly ambitious enough 
 to be among the very first in the class, he was very good in all departments — 
 his mind was well balanced, and became mature at an early age. During our 
 Senior year, he obtained a Boylston prize for a dissertation on Geology. But 
 the crowning beauty of his college life was the singular union of purity, free- 
 dom and love, by which it was characterized. " He did not need the smart 
 of folly to make him wise, nor the sting of guilt to make him virtuous." And 
 the same qualities which made us so fond of him in College, touched the hearts 
 of all who were brought into intimate relations with him in subsequent life. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin was not a commanding pulpit orator. His presence was gentle 
 and unimposing; but his benignant face, sweet musical voice, and a certain 
 loving earnestness drew his hearers to him; and his fine serious thought and 
 glowing emotion, expressed in a style always chaste and appropriate, and some- 
 times beautifully eloquent, made him a favourite aud effective preacher. In 
 his preaching he was never polemic; and seldom, if ever, took any wide range 
 of speculative inquiry; he was content to be closely practical; with his eye 
 upon the pressing wants of his people, he wrote his sermons for them out of 
 his own heart, touched to earnestness by the study of Christ. 
 
 As a Pastor, Mr. Goodwin possessed remarkable qualities. There was a 
 beauty in his life and bearing that opened a way for him to all hearts. He had 
 a nice tact — he could touch the wounded spirit and tenderly soothe its distress. 
 He could let in light upon a darkened soul without a bit of cant. The young 
 were not afraid of him, because they felt the genial warmth of his love. 
 Then he had a fine practical turn, and laboured wisely for the schools, aud 
 every quickening institution of the town. 
 
 None of the Writings of Mr. Goodwin are to be found in print, except ex- 
 tracts from two Sermons, and from a School Report, published with his Mem- 
 oir in the Christian Examiner, in 1837. These show the fine qualities of his 
 thought and style. 
 
HERSEY BRADFORD GOODWIN. 551 
 
 Mr. Goodwin never had robust health; a slight inclination of form probably- 
 impeded the action of the heart and lungs, and labour and sorrow conspired 
 to break the vital force. Life was very rich to him injoys and hopes; but he 
 bowed meekly to the summons to depart. His form lies buried among his 
 parishioners, and his name is a sacred household word in all their homes. 
 
 I am, dear Sir, very truly yowrs, 
 
 G. "W. HOSMER. 
 
 FROM THE REV. CAZNEAU PALFREY, D. D. 
 
 Belfast, Me., November 11, 1861. 
 
 My dear Sir: It gives me great pleasure to comply with your request that 
 I would afford you some assistance in preparing a sketch of the life and char- 
 acter of Mr. Goodwin. I am glad to have my recollections of so dear and valued 
 a friend revived; and the distinctness with which lean recall him after the lapse 
 of more than twenty-five years, is a proof how marked and striking were the 
 traits of his character. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin and I passed seven successive years together in Cambridge, 
 embracing the periods of our collegiate course and of our preparation for the 
 ministry in the Theological School. I first knew him when we met as mem- 
 bers of the same class, and we were strongly drawn towards each other — he 
 immediately became my most intimate friend, and so continued to the end of 
 his life. 
 
 In person Mr. Goodwin was rather below the average height, round-shoul- 
 dered, stooping and narrow-chested. His whole appearance indicated a de- 
 ficiency of muscular force. Yet he possessed great nervous energy and sensi- 
 bility. Fine silken hair testified to the delicacy of his organization. His eye 
 was clear, dark and penetrating. His voice was strong and sonorous, far be- 
 yond what the general appearance promised. His step was quick, all his motions 
 alert, his manner vivacious. Except when depressed by illness, he was uni- 
 formly cheerful and hopeful, much disposed to drollery and jocularity, and a 
 keen appreciator of similar traits in others. The sweetness of his temper and 
 the kindliness of his disposition were imperturbable; but he had a very quick 
 and strong indignation against moral wrong. His sympathy was always ready 
 for every one. He entered instantly and heartily into the case of either friend 
 or stranger who required his services; and he was disinterested and indefa- 
 tigable in rendering the needed help. A nature so singularly communicative 
 as his could not fail to make him a great favourite in college society. If I 
 were to say that he was the most popular member of our class, I should hardly 
 do justice to the feeling entertained for him. That feeling was something more 
 than what was meant by college popularity. No one was more truly loved, 
 and no one was consulted and confided in by so many as he. The same trait 
 afterward made him eminent in the pastoral office. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin had an acute and versatile intellect. He could quickly master 
 any subject in which he became interested, and he had an appetite for know- 
 ledge in various departments. He was faithful in his attention to college 
 studies, and held a distinguished rank in the class. Yet he could not be called 
 a systematic student. His mind was naturally discursive. What he acquired 
 he acquired by a succession of ardent and disconnected efforts rather than by 
 steadily continued application in accordance with a fixed plan. In the Theo- 
 logical School, the study that most interested him was the interpretation of 
 the New Testament, which he considered the foundation of theological science. 
 He was less interested in Dogmatic Theology. He was jealous of the free- 
 dom and independence of his own mind, and was unwilling to have his opini- 
 ons on great controverted subjects in any measure forestalled. He used to say 
 
552 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 that doctrines should be studied by a beginner in Theology, in a simply his- 
 torical point of view. 
 
 Mr. Goodwin's choice was fixed, at the time he entered College, upon the pro- 
 fession he afterwards adopted, and there was nothing in his character and de- 
 portment in College inconsistent with that choice. He was, throughout his 
 college course, a blameless and exemplary young man. His natural tempera- 
 ment led him much into society of various character, and he seemed to be ex- 
 posed to temptation from that cause, but he passed through it unharmed. No 
 imputation of the slightest immorality was ever afterward attached to him. 
 
 As a Preacher, Mr. Goodwin was eminently plain and practical. It was not 
 his habit to discuss deep subjects in the pulpit, or to rise into the highest regions 
 o£ thought and imagination. He aimed at bringing home the truths he taught 
 to the hearts and consciences of his hearers, by familiar illustrations drawn 
 from the common affairs of life. His manner was earnest and persuasive. 
 Though he never preached extempore, the familiar tones of his voice, and the 
 ease and freedom of his manner, gave to his discourses the effect of extempo- 
 raneous speaking. He was a popular preacher in his own and the neighbour- 
 ing pulpits, and was listened to with delight by some of our most intellectual 
 congregations. I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Very respectfully yours, 
 
 C. PALFREY. 
 
 JASON WHITMAN* 
 
 1830 — 1848. 
 
 Jason Whitman, the youngest son of John and Abigail Whitman, was 
 born in Bridgewater, Mass., on the 30th of April, 1799, being the youngest 
 child of his parents. His father lived to the extraordinary age of a hun- 
 dred and seven years. During his childhood, he was subject to diseases 
 which permanently affected both his throat and lungs. But he had a great 
 fondness for books, and, being confined more closely to the house than other 
 children, he made proportionally more rapid progress in his studies. His 
 earlier schooling was at the Bridgewater Academy, of which Mr. David 
 Beed was then Principal ; but he afterwards studied under his brother, the 
 Bev. Nathaniel Whitman, then Pastor of the First Church in Billerica, 
 Mass. At the age of nineteen he became a student at the Exeter Phillips 
 Academy, and remained there three years, when he joined the Freshman 
 class in Harvard College. He maintained an excellent standing as a scholar 
 during his whole college course, and graduated with high honour in 1825. 
 
 Immediately after his graduation, he took charge of the Academy in 
 Billerica, which he taught for three years. He had been engaged as a 
 teacher during several of his college vacations ; and this was the employ- 
 ment to which his friends, in consideration of the diseased state of his 
 throat, necessarily affecting his vocal organs, thought he had better devote 
 himself ; but his own purpose was fixed to enter the ministry. Accord- 
 ingly, in 1828, he commenced the study of Divinity at Cambridge, and in 
 1830 was licensed to preach by an Association of ministers at Dover, Mass. 
 
 * Christ. Exam., 1848. 
 
JASON WHITMAN. 553 
 
 He preached for a short time in Canton, Mass., and was invited to settle 
 there, but declined the call. He subsequently accepted a call from a church 
 in Saco, Me., where he was ordained and installed on the 30th of June, 1830. 
 Here he remained, enjoying, in a high degree, the affection and confidence 
 of his people, until April, 1834, when he resigned his charge to accept the 
 appointment of General Secretary of the American Unitarian Association. 
 Having occupied this post, with great acceptance, for one year, he con. 
 sented, at the urgent request of the Rev. Dr. Nichols, of Portland, to 
 accept an invitation to take charge of a Second Unitarian Church in that 
 place. Accordingly, he was installed as Pastor of that church in 1835. 
 His engagement was at first for only five years ; but, at the end of that, time, 
 it was renewed for five years more ; and, throughout this whole period, he 
 was most laboriously occupied in his work. During one winter he went, 
 for the benefit of his health, to Savannah, Ga., and there exerted an import- 
 ant influence in sustaining and advancing the interests of Unitarianism. 
 
 On the 30th of July, 1845, Mr. Whitman was installed as Pastor of the 
 First Congregational Society in Lexington, Mass., where he spent the 
 remainder of his days. Being called, in December, 1847, to Saco to attend 
 the Funeral of his brother-in-law, the Hon. John Fairfield, of the United 
 States Senate, and finding that the burial must neccessarily be deferred for 
 several days, he availed himself of the opportunity to visit his numerous 
 friends in Portland. It was from exposure to the intense cold, on the 
 journey from Saco to Portland, that he contracted the disease, which, in a 
 few days, terminated his life. He died on the 25th of January, 1848, in the 
 bosom of a congregation in which he had passed more than half of the entire 
 period of his ministry. His Funeral Sermon was preached at Lexington, 
 on the 27th of February, by the Rev. Theodore H. Dorr, and was published. 
 
 In March, 1832, he was married to Mary Fairfield, by whom he had five 
 children, — two sons and three daughters. Mrs. Whitman still (1863) sur- 
 vives. 
 
 The following is a list of Mr. Whitman's publications': Religious Ex- 
 citements ; A Sermon preached at the Ordination of the Rev. Edward H. 
 Edes, in Eastport, 1831. An Address before the York County Temper- 
 ance Society, at Alfred, 1832. The Change Experienced in becoming truly 
 Religious, 1837. Memoir of Bernard Whitman, 1837. Hard Times : A 
 Discourse delivered in the Second Unitarian Church, also in the First 
 Parish Church, Portland, 1837. Missionary Efforts : A Sermon delivered 
 at Hallowell, before the Maine Convention of Unitarian Churches, 1838. 
 The Young Man's Assistant in Efforts at Self-cultivation, 1838. Letter 
 to a Friend on the Duty of Commencing at once a Religious Life, 1840. 
 Week-Day Religion, 1840. Memoir of Deacon John Whitman, 1843. 
 Young Lady's Aid to Usefulness (3d edition), 1845. Unitarian Tracts, 
 No. 91 ; Hints on Religious Feelings, 183-5. No. 210 ; We Live for 
 Heaven, 1845. Lecture before the American Institute of Instruction at 
 Plymouth, 1846. Sermon at the Induction of the Rev. C. H. A. Hall, at 
 Needham, 1847. Discourses on the Lord's Prayer, 1847. Inquiry into 
 the Scriptural Authority of the Doctrine of the Two Natures of our Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ. A Brief Statement of the Unitarian Belief 
 (by Jason Whitman and William E. Greely), 1847. 
 
554 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 FROM THE REV. JOSEPH ALLEN, D. D. 
 
 Noethborodoh, September 1, 1863. 
 
 My dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Jason Whitman commenced 
 during the period of his residence in Maine, but became much more intimate 
 after his settlement in Lexington. I knew him quite well in his later years, 
 met him on various occasions and under different circumstances, and had 
 every needful opportunity of forming a correct estimate of his general charac- 
 teristics. The impression that he made upon me is still very distinct, and I 
 cheerfully comply with your request in communicating it to you. 
 
 Mr. Whitman's personal appearance could not be said to be prepossessing. 
 Though there was a certain manly vigour indicated by the expression of his 
 countenance, } r et there seemed to be little grace or harmony in the combination 
 of his features. He was of about the middle height, had a rapid but stoop- 
 ing gait, and in all his movements indicated what he actually possessed, — a 
 very nervous temperament. He never seemed to have good health; and, if 
 my memory serves me, he was afflicted with the asthma. 
 
 Mr. Whitman could not be said to be a brilliant man, but he possessed ster- 
 ling good sense, sound judgment, and all those qualities most essential to 
 practical usefulness. The general habit of his mind was uncommonly medi- 
 tative and serious; and he impressed you at once with the idea that his heart 
 was deeply in his work. As long as his ability to labour lasted, he was most 
 assiduously engaged in the duties of his profession; and after he was taken 
 off from his labours by the disease which finally terminated his life, his heart 
 was still in his work as deeply as ever. Though he was a very well educated 
 man, he was distinguished rather for solid than graceful acquirements; and 
 hence his discourses were more forcible and logical than rhetorical and attrac- 
 tive. I am not quite sure that I ever heard him preach, though I have often 
 heard him speak in public, and was always deeply impressed with the perti- 
 nence of his thoughts, and the manifest sincerity and earnestness of his man- 
 ner. He was susceptible of strong emotion, and he often exhibited it in public 
 as well as in private. The general tone of his ministrations was deeply seri- 
 ous and fervent, and I should imagine, withal, the opposite of controversial. 
 Though he was decidedly a Unitarian, I do not know what was the particular 
 type of his belief; but I am sure he was what we should call a very evangeli- 
 cal Preacher. He was always pleasant in his social intercourse, but he was 
 also dignified, and I never knew him indulge in anything that approached to 
 levity. He was greatly esteemed and beloved by his people, and honoured 
 by his brethren in the ministry, and his memory is still gratefully cherished 
 wherever he was known. Very sincerely yocrs, 
 
 J. ALLEN. 
 
 GEORGE FREDERICK SIMMONS* 
 
 1838 — 1855. 
 
 George Frederick Simmons was born in Boston in the year 1814. 
 He was a son of William Simmons, a Judge of the Police Court in his 
 native city. He was fitted for College at the Latin School in Boston, 
 entered Harvard University in 1828, and graduated in 1832. He was a 
 
 * Chris. Inq., 1855. — Christ. Exam., 1855. — Ms. from Rev. Francis Tiffany. 
 
GEORGE FREDERICK SIMMONS. 555 
 
 good general scholar, but chiefly distinguished in the English department, 
 and as a writer he was regarded, at the time of his graduation, as having 
 few equals. He was not remarkable in College for his social qualities, — 
 one evidence of which was that he boarded himself, as the phrase was, in 
 his own room, instead of mingling, at his meals, with his fellow-students, 
 or living in a private family. He was not, however, a recluse, but a close 
 observer of what was passing around him ; and when any thing displeased 
 him, he was very likely to make it known in a manner that would be 
 remembered. In his Senior year, his mind took a more decidedly serious 
 turn, and the character of his reading became proportionally changed, 
 lie took special delight in reading the works of Jeremy Taylor, and would 
 sometimes recite fine passages from them to his friends, whom he thought 
 capable of appreciating their high intellectual and moral beauty. When 
 he graduated, he delivered the Salutatory Oration, in Latin, which was 
 reckoned the fourth part in the Commencement exercises. 
 
 On leaving College, he accepted an offer to beeome a private tutor in the 
 family of Mr. David Sears, and went to live at his country house in Long- 
 wood, Me. The next year he accompanied the family to Europe, and, by 
 this means, enjoyed rare opportunities of seeing and hearing much to 
 gratify his curiosity and improve his mind. In July, 1835, he returned to 
 this country, and entered the Divinity School at Cambridge, where he com- 
 pleted his course in 1838. On the 9th of October of that year, he was 
 ordained as an Evangelist, in Dr. Channing's Church, Boston, his friend 
 and college classmate, the Rev. H. W. Bellows, preaching the Ordination 
 Sermon. He went immediately to Mobile and commenced his ministry, 
 but remained there only till 1840. He felt conscience-bound to protest 
 against the institution of Slavery ; though, in doing it, he knew that he 
 was assailing the most inveterate prejudices of the community in which he 
 lived. The result was that he was obliged to fly for his life, and barely 
 escaped the murderous fury of a mob. In the summer of 1840 he returned 
 to Massachusetts, and preached in various pulpits. In April, 1841, he 
 began to preach regularly at Waltham, and was installed as minister of the 
 Unitarian Church in that town in November following — the Installation 
 Sermon being preached by the Rev. James Freeman Clarke. Here he was 
 most zealously devoted to his work, and spent no small part of his time in 
 pastoral visitation. Meanwhile, his mind was deeply exercised on some 
 'theological questions, upon which he wished to bestow more attention than 
 would consist with what he considered due from him to his pastoral charge. 
 Under these circumstances, he tendered his resignation, and, in the spring 
 of 1843, crossed the ocean with the view of availing himself of the advan. 
 tages of theological investigation in connection with one of the German 
 Universities. He returned in October, 1845, having spent most of the 
 intervening period at the University of Berlin, where he came into very 
 intimate relations with the celebrated Neander. 
 
 After his return, he preached in various pulpits in Boston and the vicin- 
 ity, and in New York, till February, 1848, when he became Pastor of the 
 Unitarian Church in Springfield, then lately vacated by the decease of Dr. 
 Peabody. Here he was greatly admired by a portion of his congregation, 
 while others regarded him with less favour, rendering his situation not alto- 
 
556 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 gether desirable to him ; and the same general cause which had led to his 
 separation from his church in Mobile, finally operated to the production 
 of a similar result in Springfield. In consequence of a riotous assault 
 which was made there upon George Thompson, the English lecturer upon 
 Abolition, Mr. Simmons preached two sermons which gave so much offence 
 to a portion of his parish, that it was instrumental of terminating his rela- 
 tion to them as a Pastor. By the terms of his settlement, however, he 
 was entitled to six months' notice, and he remained in Springfield and 
 preached up to the end of that time. The dismissal occurred within the 
 week commenced by the Sunday on which he delivered the above mentioned 
 Sermons. He retired to Concord, Mass., with impaired health, and with 
 feelings not a little wounded by the sad circumstances which had attended 
 his separation from his people. At Concord he busied himself with gar- 
 dening, and lived as far as he could in the open air, as a consequence of 
 which his physical system was much invigorated. At this period he 
 preached more or less in various places, particularly at G-roton, Wobura, 
 Lexington and Plymouth, In November, 1853, he went to supply the 
 Unitarian Church in Albany, N. Y., and was installed as its Pastor in 
 January, 1854. Here his congregation was small, and he was little known 
 beyond its limits ; but the few who had the privilege of his acquaintance 
 regarded him as possessing rare intellectual and moral qualities. Early in 
 the summer of 1855 he was seized with typhus fever, which left him, after 
 about six weeks, in extreme weakness, and terminated in rapid consump- 
 tion. He returned with his family to Concord, in the midst of his decline, 
 but it was only to die. Surrounded with friends who loved and honoured 
 him, he sunk calmly to his rest on the 5th of September, 1855, aged about 
 forty -one years. 
 
 Mr. Simmons was married in October, 1845, to Mary, daughter of the 
 Rev. Samuel Ripley, for many years minister of the Unitarian Church at 
 Waltham. She became the mother of four children, and still (1862) sur- 
 vives. 
 
 The following is a list of Mr. Simmons' publications : Who was Jesus 
 Christ — Tract 145 of the First Series of the American Unitarian Associ- 
 ation, 1839. Two Sermons on the Kind Treatment and on the Emancipa- 
 tion of Slaves, preached at Mobile, with a Prefatory Statement, 1840. A 
 Letter to the So-called "Boston Churches," Which are in truth only Parts 
 of One Church. By a Member of the same, 1846. The Trinity ; Its 
 Scripture Formalism, and the Early Construction of Church Doctrines 
 respecting it : A Lecture delivered in Springfield, 1849. Public Spirit 
 and Mobs : Two Sermons delivered at Springfield on the Sunday after the 
 Thompson Riot, 1851. A Sermon entitled " Faith in Christ the Condition 
 of Salvation," 1854. 
 
 Mr. Simmons was my neighbour during the period of his sojourn in 
 Albany, and my intercourse with him, though not very frequent, was always 
 agreeable. He impressed me as a man of an acutely philosophical mind, 
 of a strong sense of right, of a thoughtful and reverent spirit, and of the 
 kindliest feelings towards those with whom he differed. He seemed to me 
 to court retirement, while yet, in my occasional intercourse with him, I 
 always found him sufficiently communicative, and sometimes, when awak. 
 
GEORGE FREDERICK SIMMONS. 557 
 
 ened by an inspiring theme, deeply interesting. I had occasion several 
 times to put his kindness to the test by asking favours of him ; and no one 
 could have conferred them more promptly or cheerfully. He was greatly 
 esteemed by the congregation to which he ministered, and there are those 
 among them who pronounce his name with marked reverence to this day. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL OSGOOD, D. D., 
 
 01? NEW TOEK. 
 «• New Tore, November 12, 18G2. 
 
 My dear Sir : I am most happy to be allowed to say a word of affectionate 
 remembrance of my cherished friend and classmate, the late Rev. George F. 
 Simmons. I knew him well, loved him much, and respected him even more. 
 
 He was a brilliant but crude youth in College, a, green orange whose tart 
 juices gave little promise of what its ripe sweetness would be. He was some- 
 what unsocial, quite censorious, and sometimes, not content with the point of 
 the tongue, to express his satire, he borrowed the help of the pencil, and the 
 caricatures of fellow students and Professors were funny and life-like enough 
 to have made his fortune as a contributor to Punch. He was inventive, too, 
 with his pencil, and sketched, at easy will, the oddest and most original imps, 
 and elves, and hobgoblins, that Spenser, Holbein or Goethe ever dreamed of. 
 
 He was always a strict moralist, a kind of good boy, after the excellent 
 mother's heart, living very much by himself. He liked to chat with his class- 
 mates, but did not take much to their athletic sports and dare-devil pranks. 
 He was fond of walking, and I think was a good hand at base ball, and not 
 backward among our swimmers. 
 
 He was a good scholar, — a fair linguist, a good mathematician and meta- 
 physician, and an admirable belles lettres scholar and elocutionist; the best 
 speaker by far, I think, in the class. He was always apparently correct and 
 pure, but towards the close of our college life he became positively devout, and 
 a communicant of the church. He talked constantly of the sermons preached 
 in the College Chapel, especially those of Drs. Palfrey and Ware, and read 
 and enjoyed the best books, delighting especially in Jeremy Taylor, whose 
 Ho.ly Living and Dying he gave to me as a parting present, and which I still 
 prize sacredly, after his holy life and death. 
 
 Simmons was the fourth scholar in our class, and it was supposed, from his 
 vivid style and brilliant elocution, that he would be the most successful man 
 of all the sixty-eight who left Harvard in 1832. He did well, but never came 
 up to the expected mark, and died without finding an adequate sphere, and 
 bringing out all his gifts. He could of old declaim Shakspeare and Milton 
 with the passion of Kean, and the majesty of Macready, as it seemed to us 
 in College; yet he was, in after years, rather a subdued and tender than a 
 kindling and commanding pulpit orator. He read the Scriptures and Hymns 
 exquisitely, yet even here purity and sweetness of tone were more obvious 
 than force or fire. It may be that, in subduing his somewhat irascible pas- 
 sions, he slew them, and, instead of taming, destroyed the fiery steeds that 
 the superior intellect and will need to carry them upon their long and weary 
 and endangered way. He had gun powder enough in his nature to have sent 
 to its mark any bullets that his rich arsenal of learning and argument con- 
 tained; but, fearful of some unhappy explosion, he flooded his magazine with 
 water or milk, and trusted to the sling and cross-bow to speed the shaft home 
 to its mark. 
 
 In addition to his severe dealing with his rather quick and irascible tem- 
 per, and over cooling of his native fire, Simmons had, in his somewhat un- 
 social nature, an obstacle in the way of his proper influence with men. As 
 
558 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 before hinted he was a lonely soul, and did not need companions as most of us 
 do. When he sought them, it was not on the common level of genial fellow- 
 ship, but on the high plain of spiritual communion; not on the play-ground 
 and at the table, but in the library and the chapel. Even his piety was some- 
 what lonely, and it shot up aloft like the palm, instead of spreading like the 
 apple. His build of body was after the same manner, and he was tall and 
 spare with little fulness of muscle or stomach. It seems to me that much of 
 a man's practical power, — certainly his humour and spirits, are seated in his 
 stomach and sympathetic nerves, and the genial and jolly preachers, who 
 carry the popular heart with them, like the Luthers and Latimers, not to speak 
 of the Bethunes and Spurgeons, have a body rotund and full of juices. Sim- 
 mons was one of the spare kind, and did not spread enough to connect him 
 vitally with the many. He could not pipe with old Pan on the solid ground, 
 among the Satyrs and Milk-maids, but could touch the harp with St. Cecilia, 
 among the Cherubs who had not flesh and blood enough to enable them to sit 
 down. In some of his best moments, he seemed not here but absent, and spoke 
 and looked not as for us mortals, but to somebody a thousand miles off or in 
 Heaven. Yet he was not insensible to the sting of reproach, and much prized 
 the praise of the praiseworthy. 
 
 His sickness may have had something to do with his languid pulse during 
 his latter years. Some inward spring may have been broken, that was needed 
 to give elasticity and power to his word and gesture. To imply that more was 
 expected of him than he actually accomplished, is not belittling his work, but 
 magnifying his gifts and promise. I doubt not that God has work for him to 
 do still, and such natures as his are powerful proofs of the life immortal. 
 
 I have written with entire sincerity, and any other tone would be unworthy 
 of Simmons, and of his friend and classmate, 
 
 SAMUEL OSGOOD. 
 
 FROM THE REV. SAMUEL OSGOOD, D. D., 
 
 OP SPRINGFIELD, MASS. 
 
 Springfield, October 11, 1862. 
 
 My dear Brother: I cheerfully comply with your request for my recollec- 
 tions of the Rev. Mr. Simmons, who was, for several years, minister of the 
 Unitarian Church in this place. In giving you m}' impressions concerning him, 
 I do not feel at all embarrassed by the fact that our theological views were in 
 some respects widely different; for I always hold myself ready to render due 
 honour to all genuine worth wherever it may be found. I knew Mr. Simmons 
 well from the time of his first coming to Springfield to live; and I was on such 
 terms with him as justify me in speaking with some degree of confidence in 
 respect to his character. My intimacy with him continued as long as he re- 
 mained here; and after he removed to Albany, I was there on a visit, and he 
 came to see me in a spirit of cordial good-will and affection, which evidently 
 ignored the fact that our religious opinions were not cast in the same mould. 
 
 Mr. Simmons was considerably above the medium stature, with a face indi- 
 cating great thoughtfulness and intense love of study, and, at the same time, 
 great calmness and kindliness of spirit. I do not think he was fond of ming- 
 ling in general society, or that he could be considered as eminently social in his 
 habits; and yet, when you knew him, you would find that he was a highly 
 instructive and agreeable companion, and that, beneath the veil of a naturally 
 retiring manner, there was a heart full of warm and generous sensibility. 
 His intellect was undoubtedly of a very superior order. He was more in- 
 clined to the philosophical than to the imaginative, and was never disposed to 
 rest upon the surface of any subject that was presented to him. In his esti- 
 
SYLVESTER JUDD. 559 
 
 mate of character he was sagacious and discriminating, and yet eminently 
 charitable, — never attributing an evil motive where a good one could possibly 
 be supposed. He was a man of the strictest integrity — nothing could induce 
 him to compromise in the least his own well considered and honest convic- 
 tions. He was always ready to help forward every cause which he believed 
 bore the impress of the Divine approbation, even though it might subject him 
 to great personal inconvenience. He was very outspoken and decided on the 
 subject of American Slavery, and the opposition wi.th which his course on this 
 subject was met, never had the effect either to cool his zeal or to paralyze his 
 efforts. Even those who thought he held mistaken views in regard to this great 
 national evil, could not observe the pure and lofty movements of his spirit, 
 without giving him the credit of being a true philanthropist. 
 
 In respect to Mr. Simmons' theological views, I cannot pretend to speak 
 with any thing like deflniteness, and I am inclined to think that on some of 
 the doctrines his own mind had not reached a, very settled conclusion. I re- 
 member his once telling me that, while he was in Germany, — I think under 
 the teaching of Neander, — he considered it very doubtful whether he should 
 return to this country a Unitarian; but that he did always continue to hold 
 some form of Unitarianism there can be no doubt. I am not sure that even 
 his published writings on the subject make it quite clear, at least to ordinary 
 minds, just what ground he occupied. I know, however, that those of his 
 hearers who sympathized most with what I consider evangelical truth, had the 
 highest estimate of his preaching; and my impression is that he approached 
 as nearly to my own views of the character and work of Christ as perhaps 
 any minister of his denomination with whom I have been acquainted. 
 
 As a Preacher, Mr. Simmons was probably most acceptable to the more 
 serious as well as the more intellectual class of his hearers. His manner in 
 the pulpit was simple and quiet, while yet it showed a deep interest in his own 
 utterances. His voice was not loud, but it was clear, and his enunciation dis- 
 tinct, so that he could readily be heard through a large house. His discourses 
 were skilfully framed, and characterized by good taste, and weighty and gen- 
 erally practical thought. He was highly esteemed while he lived, and he is 
 still held in cherished remembrance here by all denominations. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 ' SAMUEL OSGOOD. 
 
 SYLVESTER JUDD* 
 
 1840 — 1853. 
 
 Sylvester Judd was born in TVesthampton, Mass., July 23, 1813. 
 He was a great-grandson of the Kev. Jonathan Judd, who was, for up- 
 wards of sixty years, Pastor of the Church in Southampton. His father 
 was Sylvester Judd, a man of great personal worth and considerable intel- 
 lectual culture, who was, for some time, editor of the Hampshire Ga- 
 zette, a well-known paper published at Northampton. His mother was 
 Apphia, daughter of Aaron Hall, of Norwich, a lady of great sensibility 
 and refinement, and fitted to adorn an elevated sphere in society. His 
 childhood and early youth were marked by an amiable and gentle spirit, a 
 
 * Memoir by Mrs. Hall. 
 
560 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 great degree of conscientiousness, and a much more than ordinary facility 
 at acquiring knowledge. In the spring of 1822, when Sylvester was in 
 his ninth year, his father transferred his residence to Northampton ; and, 
 amidst the many genial influences of that fine old town, the faculties of 
 the boy were very advantageously developed. He attended, for a while, 
 the old Hawley Grammar School in Northampton ; but, in 1824, was sent 
 to Westfield Academy, then under the care of Mr. (now the Rev. Dr.) 
 Emerson Davis. Having remained here for somewhat less than a year, he 
 returned to Northampton, and attended a private school under the instruc- 
 tion of Mr. Charles Walker : and, a little later, — in the summer of 1825, — 
 he entered a school taught by Mr. Robert A. Coffin, where he continued 
 for two or three years. 
 
 In 1826 there was a revival of religion in Northampton, under the min- 
 istry of the Rev. (now Dr.) Mark Tucker, of which Sylvester believed 
 himself, and was believed by others, to be a subject ; but, though he mani- 
 fested great fervour of spirit, he did not, at that time, make a public profes- 
 sion of religion. He remained at school for some time after this, and was 
 desirous of going on with his preparation for College ; but his father, for 
 want of pecuniary means, felt unable to indulge him in this wish. This 
 was a great disappointment to him, and, under its influence, he became for 
 a while restless and UDhappy, and even his natural amiableness of spirit 
 seemed temporarily to leave him. After spending a few months with his 
 grandfather in Westbampton, he determined, in the spring of 1829, to see 
 what he could do in the mercantile line, and, accordingly, went to Green- 
 field to serve as a clerk in the store of an uncle. Not succeeding well, 
 however, he returned home after about a year, where, for some months, he 
 made himself useful to his father in keeping books and settling accounts. 
 But, as he found no prospect of permanent employment at Northampton, 
 he resolved on trying his hand once more as a clerk, and a place was pro- 
 cured for him in a dry-goods store in Hartford. Though he began with a. 
 full purpose to make himself maste» of the business, the experiment did 
 not result more favourably than the one at Greenfield ; and, after a short 
 time, his employer felt constrained to tell him that he would not answer 
 his purpose. He now returned to Northampton, deeply chagrined, and 
 ventured an earnest appeal to his father for his consent that he should 
 receive a collegiate education. His father, without at once giving him an 
 affirmative answer, consented that he should spend the next winter at his 
 grandfather's in Westhampton, and attend a private school taught by Dr. 
 Wheeler, of that place. Here he resumed his studies with great zeal, and 
 passed the winter both pleasantly and profitably. In the spring of 1831 
 he returned to Northampton, and about the first of June became a mem- 
 ber of Hopkins Academy, Hadley, boarding at home, and walking to and 
 from school six miles every day. Shortly after this, he made a public pro- 
 fession of religion, and joined the Congregational Church in Northampton, 
 then under the care of the Rev. (afterwards Dr.) Ichabod S. Spencer. A 
 revival of religion occurred in this church about the same time, into which 
 young Judd entered with great zeal, insomuch that he performed the ser- 
 vice of a voluntary missionary, in going into the neighbouring towns, and 
 
SYLVESTER JUDD. 561 
 
 holding meetings, in which he delivered the most earnest exhortations, and 
 did his utmost to extend the revival spirit. 
 
 In September, 1832, after having been connected with the Hopkins 
 Academy a little more than a year, he was admitted a member of the Fresh- 
 man class in Yale College. The following consecration of himself to God, 
 which he committed to paper, in January following, shows his general 
 state of religious feeling at the commencement of his college course : — 
 
 " Fully sensible of my weakness, sinfulness, and pronencss to wander; infnll view of 
 the temptations from the world, the flesh, and the devil; aware of the great obligations 
 this act imposes upon me, yet knowing that our blessed Captain requires the entire 
 soul, the supreme affection and whole devotion of all his followers, not only as the 
 strict demand of duty but as the happy enjoyment of privilege, and trusting in Him 
 who strengthens the weak, makes holy the sinful, and who gives grace to resist in the 
 hour of temptation, and with much prayer for direction and support, I now make this 
 solemn consecration: — 
 
 "I consecrate myself, mytime, mytalents, my influence, my thoughts, my property, 
 my knowledge, and my all to God, and his service. Be my witness, Holy Father, thou 
 my Saviour, thou my SanctiSer, angels, spirits of the pit, myself. 
 
 " I consecrate myself as soul and body, the one to devise, and the other to act, till 
 death dissolves their mutual connection; and then, my spirit, wherever in the universe 
 of God its existence may continue, and its service be required. I consecrate my time, 
 to fill up each year, month, week, day, hour, and moment, with some act performed 
 that shall bear the impress, — ' Holiness to the Lord;' — my talents, to give them a 
 decidedly religious culture, and to exert them in the cause of truth and holiness, and 
 in opposition to error and irreligion, wherever seen and however found; — my influence, 
 to extend its sphere as much as possible, to have it so decided that all may know that 
 it is for God, at all times, and under all circumstances; to never draw it away for fear 
 of reproach or unpopularity, with whomsoever I may be; and to make it as wholly 
 for the cause of truth and religion as possible ;— my thoughts, to keep the current of 
 them'eonstantly directed to subjects which, directly or indirectly, promote his glory, 
 to watch them, and check at once all aberrations, and to give them for food, not the 
 allurements of ambitious or envious contemplations, or lustful scenes, or scenes of 
 worldly pleasure, but the rich feast of heavenly and Divine things; — my property, to 
 use what little I now have, in securing an education for the Gospel ministry, and, 
 should more ever be my portion, to use none of it for superfluous or rich articles of 
 dress or household equipage, for the dainties or luxuries of food, or for any unnecessary 
 gratification; but to make a wise distribution of it among objects of benevolence, 
 whether the poor and distressed directly about me, or the dark and benighted souls all 
 over the world; reserving so much as a wise regard to the interests of my immediate 
 dependents may require; — my knowledge* when I know sinners are pressing to ruin, 
 to endeavour to bring them to repentance; when I know Christians are cold and 
 worldly, to endeavour to warm their hearts, wake them to duty, and give them an 
 impulse heavenward; when I know the result of any measures will he prejudicial to 
 the interests of religion, acting always discreetly and carefully, to point out the evil, 
 and attempt its stay, and to increase my knowledge, by every possible means, in things 
 that have a bearing on the destiny of man, the glory of God, or the salvation of the 
 world; — and I consecrate my all — help, Lord — can I do it? Have I counted the cost? 
 Will my after life bear witness to a consecration entire, and never disregarded or bro- 
 ken? How weak I am! Help me, dear Saviour, not only to write, but to keep this 
 last, and each particular, of my setting apart myself to thy service: yes, I do it — I make 
 a dedication of my all. Henceforth, fare thee well vain world! Welcome Cross! I'll 
 take thee up and bear thee, through strifes, through sneers, though death be my por- 
 tion. Come. Spirit of Heaven! Come, take up thine abode in my heart. I would make 
 room for thee there. I would cherish thee as the apple of my eye, suffering nothing to 
 grieve thee, or cause thee to leave me. Begone Pride, Anger, Envy, Selfishness, with 
 all your train! The blest Spirit comes — make room. Thou Holy Dove! come, and 
 rest on me. I would be meek as thou, as innocent, as pure. 
 
 " This act of consecration is to be in force to-day, to-morrow, next year, while I 
 live in death and after death,— to all eternity. I henceforth, in whatever I have not 
 heretofore stand before the world, a Christian ; a stranger and sojourner here, as one 
 who is not of this world, but as one whose heart and treasure are laid up in Heaven; 
 and I will await the hour of death with a calm resignation, following the example 
 and doing the will of my Saviour, till He calls me away, to give me my crown of ever- 
 lasting glory. 
 
 Vol. VIII. 36 
 
562 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 '' Reso'vingtoread this considerately and prayerfully, at least once a week, and pray - 
 ( ing the Lord to enable me to keep it. or, if it be not entire, one more entire, I subscribe 
 my heart and name to it. " S. JUDD, Jr." 
 
 Mr. Judd was a vigorous and successful student during his whole col- 
 lege life. In his Sophomore year he received the Berkleian prize for 
 Latin composition, and, in both his Sophomore and Junior years, the prize 
 for English composition. He graduated in September, 1836, with one 
 of the highest honours of his class, — an English Oration. He was sub- 
 jected to considerable pecuniary embarrassment in the prosecution of his 
 college course, and, notwithstanding his great efforts at economy, and the 
 aid received from some of his friends, he found himself somewhat in debt 
 when he graduated. 
 
 During the last two years that he was in College, he had been led to 
 doubt seriously in regard to the truth of the religious system in which he 
 bad been educated, and in which he had previously recognized the only 
 foundation of his hope of Heaven. These doubts, however, he kept to 
 himself — though they were constantly corroding his spirit, sometimes pro- 
 ducing a state of mind akin to scepticism, and a state of heart bordering 
 on despair, and though his friends noticed a strange and sad appearance to 
 which they had not been accustomed, no one knew what was going on in 
 his bosom. Shortly after he graduated, with a view to obtain the means 
 of liquidating the debts he had incurred for his education, and of providing 
 the means for the further prosecution of his studies, he took charge of a 
 private school in Templeton, Mass. Here there were serious difficulties 
 existing between the Calvinistic and Unitarian Societies ; and, though Mr. 
 Judd was under the patronage of the former, and was considered by them 
 as committed to their interests, he felt that his convictions were rather 
 with the latter, and his sympathies were all tending in that direction. 
 About the time of his leaving College, he was invited to a Professorship in 
 Miami College, Ohio. In a letter addressed to his brother, dated Tem- 
 pleton, March 24, 1837, he gives the reason for declining that invitation, 
 and in doing so presents a striking picture of the state of his own mind at 
 that period. He writes as follows : — 
 
 "I am desirous to explain a little relative to my declining the offer to go to the West. 
 I did not come to my decision without the most deliberate and prayerful consideration; 
 and the disappointment to my friends could not have exceeded the pain in my own 
 feelings. The amount of my objection to taking the proposed situation may be con- 
 tained in a word. I was not willing to be placed under those restrictions in religious 
 thought and feeling which would necessarily be imposed upon me in the contemplated 
 circumstances. 
 
 " Too long has the world groaned under the bondage of superstition, intolerance and 
 bigotry. I am not going to enter upon a crusade against mankind; but I cannot, I 
 dare not, lend my influence to bind more closely the yoke; neither am I willing to 
 yield myself to its thraldom. God made man, made you. made me, mad.e all men, 
 for high and noble ends. He made us in his own image, to reflect his own glory before 
 the eyes of the universe. A spiritual nature was given us, by which to mount up, as 
 on eagles' wings, to an elevated existence, to an assimilation with the Deity. We dash 
 in pieces our heavenly image; we sink from our high estate; we become the slaves of 
 one another. Tes, man is the most abject slave of his fellow man. He dare not think 
 for himself; he dare not speak or act for himself; and. more than this, becomes the 
 slave of himself. An unnatural sense of right and wrong causes him to tremble at 
 his own footsteps, and startle at his own breath. Delusions that settle like the pall of 
 death upon the soul, have come down from many generations. Their antiquity gives 
 them authority, and the assumed sanction of Deity begets for them reverence. None 
 dare question their truth, or. if he doubt, he is condemned if he speak. I boast of no 
 
SYLVESTER JUDD. 563 
 
 superior penetration; but there are some things so plain that he who runs may read. 
 I can claim no superior boldness; but, if I have not courage enough to attack the 
 absurdities of others, I am sure I have too much obstinacy to be led by their perver- 
 sions. Away with faint-heartedness! Let the cry of heresy come. Let persecution 
 come. Only let truth, God's own truth prevail. I anticipate the day when truth shall 
 ride forth conquering and to conquer. I cannot say when ; I only pray for nerve and 
 resolution to urge on the chariot wheels. I cannot rest. The Lord has been leading 
 me by ways that I thought not of. He has sorely tried me, to see if I would trust Him. 
 I hope He will make me a fit instrument for accomplishing his work. I do not seek 
 independence of action for its own sake. No, no. It is always easier to float withthe 
 current. But alas! ' 'twas floating me down to dark despair.' 
 
 " These considerations have long been pressing upon me; at times they have made 
 me wretched. Convictions were overwhelming me; hut I would not yield to them, 
 aud then came the struggle. I thought of what my friends would think, and then 
 came a deeper agony. Oh, yes, that I must disappoint the expectations of my dearest 
 friends! This has been my bitterest anguish. But God has sustained me in my reso- 
 lutions, and I trust He will aid me in the execution. Feeling and thinkhrg thus, you 
 see I could not become connected with an Old School Presbyterian College in Ohio. 
 May I never repent my decision!" 
 
 Mr. Judd felt so much embarrassed by the circumstances in which he 
 found himself at Templeton, that, in the spring of 1837, he resigned the 
 situation, and returned to Northampton, prepared to avow the change which 
 had taken place in his views of Christian doctrine. He wrote a somewhat 
 extended account of the process by which this change had been effected, 
 under the title " Cardiagraphy," designed especially for the use of his 
 immediate family and friends, who were greatly distressed at the iotea of 
 his becoming a Unitarian ; and this exposition seems to have had the effect, 
 not of changing their views, but of softening their feelings at least into a 
 kindly forbearance. Having resolved to enter the ministry in connection 
 with the Unitarian denomination, he went to Cambridge in the fall of 1837, 
 and became a student in the Divinity School, availing himself partly of a 
 fund for the benefit of theological students, and partly of the liberality of 
 a gentleman in Boston, who was in the habit of lending money to students 
 there without interest, and to be returned or not, as might suit their con- 
 venience. 
 
 Though he was now surrounded with those whose general views of Chris- 
 tianity harmonized with his own, he did not find the atmosphere altogether 
 a congenial one — he found much less of fervour than he had been accus- 
 tomed to, and less than he desired. He was instrumental in establishing 
 private meetings for prayer among his fellow-students, and was distin- 
 guished for the readiness with which he bore his part in these exercises. 
 In his Journal, February 23, 1838, he writes of them, — " These are delight- 
 ful seasons. We seem to get each night a little nearer to Heaven." In 
 his second year, h*e c6mmunicated to the Christian Register a series of 
 Letters addressed to a friend upon the change of his religious views, which 
 were soon, by request of the American Association, published as a Tract, 
 under the title, — " A Young Man's Account of his Conversion from Cal- 
 vinism." In his Journal, under date December, 1839, we find the follow- 
 ing entry, which illustrates his peculiar temperament, as well as shows that 
 he was at least subject to seasons of depression : 
 
 " All things sadden me. Mr. M coming in, and talking about ' these views,' 
 
 makes me sad. Philosophy, Theology, Poetry, make me sad. Coleridge, and Ripley, 
 and N orton, make me sad. My father's presence with me now makes me sad. The 
 snow, my rose plant, the cold moon, produce the same effect. The past, the present, 
 and the future, life and no life, what I am and what I have been, the letters of my 
 friends, pain in my head and in my heart, — all, all deepen the one feeling. Now do 
 
564 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 not attempt to thread these things all on one string. Ton cannot do it. You cannot 
 detect a common point of harmony. Possibly none such exists. Such a mood likes 
 sometimes to utter itself without point and without coherence. It has its own 
 idiom, and adopts its own language." 
 
 On the 6th of July, 1840, a few weeks before closing his course at the 
 Divinity School, Mr. Judd engaged to supply the pulpit of the Unitarian 
 Church in Augusta, Me., for six weeks. In accordance with this engage, 
 ment, he preached his first sermon there on the morning of the 26th of 
 the same month ; and in just one month from that day he received a call 
 to become the Pastor of that church. He, however, had previously engaged 
 to supply the Unitarian pulpit in Deerfield, Mass., during the month of 
 September ; and he accordingly went thither about the close of August, 
 and preached four Sabbaths, much to the satisfaction of the people. In. 
 deed, they would gladly have retained him as their Pastor, but he felt 
 bound, in honour, to return to Augusta, where, on the 1st of October, he 
 received Ordination. All the Maine Unitarian clergymen were present. 
 On the next Sabbath morning, he preached on the text, — " Woe is unto 
 me, if I preach not the Gospel." 
 
 On the 31st of August, 1841, Mr. Judd was married to Jane E., daugh- 
 ter of the Hon. Reuel Williams, of Augusta, a member of the United 
 States Senate from Maine. He became the father of three children. 
 
 A* the commencement of the year 1842, Mr. Judd projected a course 
 of Monthly Lectures on subjects of general interest, to be delivered in his 
 church on Sabbath evenings. The third Lecture was entitled " A Moral 
 Review of the Revolutionary War ; or some of the Evils of that Event 
 Considered." In detailing the evils involved in the contest, he was under, 
 stood by many to reflect upon Washington and other heroes of the Revolu- 
 tion. The Legislature of the State being in session, many of the mem- 
 bers were in his audience ; and most of them were greatly displeased, and 
 some testified their displeasure by leaving the house. Mr. Judd had been 
 invited, in common with the other clergymen of Augusta and Hallowell, 
 to officiate in turn as Chaplain of both houses ; but the first official busi- 
 ness which they did the next morning after hearing this Lecture, was to 
 pass a Resolution excusing Mr. Judd from any longer performing this ser- 
 vice. He was greatly surprised at the construction that was placed on 
 what he had delivered, and was therefore led, in self-defence, to publish 
 the Discourse with copious notes, and a long list of references as authority 
 for his statements. At the next session of the Legislature, the question 
 whether the invitation to Mr. Judd to officiate as jChaplain should be 
 renewed, was agitated with some degree of warmth, but was finally decided 
 in the negative. 
 
 In the spring of 1842 a general attention to religion prevailed among 
 all classes in and about Augusta, and Mr. Judd earnestly proposed a union 
 meeting of all the different denominations, each congregation to be repre- 
 sented by its own minister, and the several ministers to be represented in 
 their several congregations. The proposal was concurred in by the minis, 
 ters of the Episcopal, Free-Will Baptist, and Universalist churches ; but 
 the Orthodox Congregational and Methodist declined, and the Baptist did 
 not fully respond to the call, so that the plan — much to the regret of Mr. 
 Judd — did not take effect. 
 
SYLVESTER JUDD. 565 
 
 In 1847, while the War with Mexico was going forward, Mr. Judd's 
 mind was deeply wrought upon in reference to the subject, and a corre- 
 sponding complexion was given to his public ministrations. When the 
 Annual Thanksgiving occurred, so fully was he impressed with the horrors 
 of this war and its attendant evils, that, instead of calling to remembrance 
 the testimonies of the Divine goodness, as is common on such occasions, 
 his prayer was the mere pouring forth of confessions of national guilt, and 
 deprecations of deserved punishment. When the time for the Sermon 
 came, he rose and opened the Bible at the Book of Lamentations ; and 
 then, with a trembling voice and deep pathos, gave utterance to the moan- 
 ings of the old prophet over the sins and desolations of his beloved coun- 
 try ; and, having done this, he dismissed the congregation. He also omit- 
 ted to read the Governor's Proclamation, on the ground that it'contained, 
 as he thought, an unauthorized prescription to clergymen as to what they 
 should preach in their own pulpits. His course on this occasion was vari- 
 ously estimated by different parties, — some putting it to the account of 
 affectation, and some to that of eccentricity, while those who knew him 
 best felt assured that it was the result of deep conscientious conviction. 
 
 In the autumn of 1852 Mr. Judd attended the Unitarian Convention 
 at Baltimore, in the hope of securing a discussion of certain favourite 
 ideas of his, having a bearing upon the Church; — especially the bringing 
 of all, parents and children, to celebrate the Ordinance of the Lord's Sup- 
 per. In this, however, he was somewhat disappointed, though he consoled 
 himself with the thought that the subjects were fairly introduced, and 
 would receive due attention the next year. Meanwhile he was labouring, 
 to the extent of his ability, to bring his own congregation to the practical 
 adoption of the views to which he attached so much importance. 
 
 On the first Sabbath of the year 1853 Mr. Judd preached a New Year's 
 Sermon, in which, after noticing the great mortality among his people by 
 which the preceding year had been marked, he uttered these (as it proved) 
 ominous interrogations' — "Who of us will be missed from these seats on 
 another New Year's day? Which of you shall I next be called upon to 
 lay in the grave ? Or will it be you that shall perform the last sad duties 
 to the cold remains of your Pastor?" The next day he was busily 
 engaged in completing a discourse which he had expected to deliver at the 
 Boston Thursday Lecture on the same week. He took leave of his family 
 between eight and nine o'clock, on the same evening, and went to a hotel 
 near the railroad depot, from which he was to take the cars early the next 
 morning. He retired about ten, and was immediately seized with severe 
 chills, which precluded sleep, but which he endured until about three 
 o'clock in the morning, when he was attacked with violent pain. At five 
 o'clock a physician was called, who pronounced his disease a slight inflam- 
 mation of the bowels. The morning found him in a state of great ex- 
 haustion, so that, when his wife reached his bedside, he was scarcely able to 
 speak to her. A second physician was called to see him on Thursday, but 
 he saw nothing in his case to justify any serious doubt of his speedy recov- 
 ery. On Saturday, (January 8,) though his symptoms had not essentially 
 improved, — the weather being mild and pleasant, — he was placed in a close 
 carriage, and removed to his home. Here he lingered in a state of great 
 
566 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 prostration, uttering many characteristic expressions, and sometimes evinc- 
 ing a slight wandering of mind, untjl the morning of the 26th, when his 
 spirit took its final flight. When the announcement was made to him, by his 
 physician, that he was on the borders of the invisible world, he broke out in 
 piercing tones of anguish, — •< Oh my God ! I love There, — I love Heaven, — 
 I love its glories ! — But my dear brothers and sisters, — my parents, — my 
 wife and children, — I love you, — how can I ! How can I !" He soon 
 became composed, and the hymn, — " Majestic sweetness sits enthroned, 
 &c," together with some passages from the New Testament, were read to 
 him ; but he said but little more before he ceased to breathe. His Funeral 
 was attended the next Sabbath morning, and the services conducted with 
 great appropriateness and pathos by the Rev. Mr. Waterston. 
 
 Mr. Judd published Margaret: A Tale of the Eeal and Ideal, 12mo., 
 1845 ; Philo, an EvaDgeliad : A Didactic Poem, in blank verse, 1850; 
 Richard Edney, a Romance, 1850. Besides the Lecture on the Revolu- 
 tionary War, already referred to, he published, in pamphlet form, a Sermon 
 entitled " The True Dignity of Politics," (by request of the Legislature of 
 the State,) 1850 ; and an Oration on " Heroism," delivered at Augusta, 
 on the Fourth of July, of the same year. An old Indian tradition sug- 
 gested to him a Dramatic Poem, in Five Acts. — •• The White Hills : An 
 American Tragedy," which is still unpublished. A volume entitled " The 
 Church, in a Series of Discourses," was published posthumously, in 1854; 
 and his Life, by Mrs. Arethusa Hall, was published the same year. 
 
 FROM THE REV. THOMAS E. PITKIN, D. D. 
 
 Albany, November 16, 1863. 
 
 My dear Sir: My acquaintance with the Rev. Sylvester Judd was limited 
 to the four years in which we were fellow students in Yale College. I knew 
 him quite well as a classmate, and knew the estimation in which he was 
 generally held, but I cannot say that he was ever among my most intimate 
 friends. Such recollections and impressions as I have concerning him I will 
 very freely communicate to you. 
 
 Mr. Judd's personal appearance was decidedly attractive. He was of about 
 the middle height, well proportioned, with light hair, a florid complexion, and 
 altogether an expressive countenance. He was uncommonly neat in his dress, 
 without any thing, however, approaching the fop or the dandy- His manners 
 were simple and natural, though indicative of what he actually possessed — a 
 highly nervous temperament. He held an excellent rank as a scholar, though 
 I think he had more facility in the languages and other kindred studies than 
 in the higher branches of Mathematics. The high honour which he received 
 when he graduated was the best attestation to his superior scholarship. 
 
 Mr. Judd was not a man who would be likely to pass unnoticed in the 
 crowd. I could not describe him intellectually better than by saying that he 
 was a man of genius. His mind seemed ill at home in a beaten track. His 
 imagination was lively and brilliant, and would throw off splendid imagery 
 with little or no apparent effort. The productions of his pen, after he had 
 reached a greater maturity, had the same graceful facility of thought, the 
 same exuberant fancy, the same striking and eccentric habit of mind, impressed 
 upon them, of which we witnessed the earlier manifestations in College. 
 
 Mr. Judd naturally possessed =■ morbid temperament; and this had much 
 to do in giving complexion to his general character. "When he came to College, 
 no one could have been more zealous than he in every thing pertaining to the 
 
HIRAM WITHINGTON. 567 
 
 religious life. His heart seemed overflowing with zeal for the salvation of all 
 who came within his reach. Not only was he most punctual in attending on 
 all the regular religious services of the College, but he was foremost in the 
 prayer-meetings of the students, and was always ready to drop a word of 
 warning or reproof in the ear of the careless, as he found opportunity. In- 
 deed, there were not wanting those, and exemplary professors of religion too, 
 who thought that he carried this part of Christian duty sometimes to an 
 extreme, and that his usefulness would have been greater if, on some occasions, 
 his zeal had been more highly tempered with prudence. Nobody, however, 
 doubted that his efforts in this direction were always dictated by an honest 
 desire to do good. During the latter part of his college life, a change seemed to 
 come over him, the reason of which was not at the time, so far as I know, even 
 guessed at by anybody. Not only was there a great waning in his religious 
 zeal, but he evinced a thoroughly morbid habit of mind, which kept him in a 
 great measure insulated among his fellow students. It subsequently appeared 
 that the process was at this time going forward by which his ecclesiastical 
 relations were finally to be changed, and, instead of being an .Orthodox minis- 
 ter, as he and his friends had expected, he was to take his place among the 
 lights of Unitarianism. I had no personal knowledge of him after we parted 
 at College, but I was not surprised to hear that he became a mau of mark in 
 the denomination with which he was finally connected. 
 
 I am, dear Sir, 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 THOMAS C. PITKIN. 
 
 HIRAM WITHINGTON* 
 
 1844—1848. 
 
 Hiram Withington, a son of Isaac Withington, was bom in Dor- 
 chester, Mass., July 29, 1818. His childhood and youth were marked by 
 uncommon amiableness and gentleness, but by much more than ordinary 
 activity of mind and strength of purpose. As an evidence of his early 
 maturity, it has been stated that, when he was only fourteen years of age, 
 he was sometimes left in charge of the school of which he was a member 
 for an entire day, and every thing would move on with as much order as 
 if the regular instructor had been present. A year later he bad much to 
 do in organizing a Temperance Society and a Debating Club among the 
 boys, and also in establishing a library for the use of the members of the 
 Club. He was generally of a sedate turn, and yet loved fun and abounded 
 in anecdote. He was very fond of reading, especially poetry ; and he took 
 great delight in solitary rambles, and in surveying the beauties of nature. 
 
 He attended a common school until he was fourteen years old, and, after- 
 wards, for two years, an Academ}'. At the age of sixteen, he engaged very 
 successfully as teacher of a school in Hanson. The next year lie was sim- 
 ilaidy engaged in one of the Grammar Schools at Dorchester ; and from 
 this period he dated the beginning of his religious life. He became now 
 connected with the Sunday School ; and, by the part which he bore in the 
 discussions at the teachers' meetings, as well as by his simple and beautiful 
 "Memoir by Kev. J". H. Allen. 
 
568 UNITARIAN 'CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 deliverances to the scholars, he awakened a deep interest among all who 
 were in any way connected with the school. 
 
 In due time, he communicated to his Pastor, the Rev. Nathaniel Hall, 
 liis desire to enter the ministry, and received from him the most encoura- 
 ging sympathy; though his own father, in view of the difficulties whioh he 
 saw in the way, looked somewhat doubtfully on the project. So strong, 
 however, was Hiram's, desire and purpose that, having gained a slight 
 kuowledge of Latin, and laid aside the small income of his school, he went, 
 iu the spring of 1839, to Northborough, where he became both a teacher 
 and a scholar in the family of the Rev. Dr. Joseph Allen. Here he 
 remained a little more than two years, during which time his intellect 
 developed with great rapidity. In 1841 he became a student at the Di- 
 vinily School, Cambridge, where he took the regular course of three years. 
 During this period he was habitually cheerful and happy, and his mind was 
 always vigorously occupied, though he was little inclined to be a methodi- 
 cal student. The last winter of his theological course he spent in teaching 
 a public school at Hanson, in order to meet his necessary expenses. In 
 July, 1844, he was one of a class of four that graduated at the Theological 
 School. Ilis Dissertation on that occasion, "On the Mystical Element of 
 Religion," was published in the Christian Examiner, — the only production 
 of his pen that appeared in print during his lifetime, with the exception 
 of a Sermon addressed to Children. From his first appearance in the pul- 
 pit he was a popular preacher, possessing that delicacy, tenderness and 
 glow of both thought and feeling, that gave him great command over his 
 audience. 
 
 In the early part. of the next autumn he came under an engagement to 
 preach to the Congregational church at Leominster, in Worcester County, 
 and, on Christmas day following, was ordained and installed as Pastor of 
 that church. Meanwhile, on the 19th of November, he had been married 
 to Elizabeth Clapp, of Dorchester. Thus began his conjugal life and his 
 ministerial life almost at the same time ; but though the morning seemed 
 bright, it proved the harbinger of a dark and sorrowful day. In addition 
 to the severe labour incident to the charge of a very large parish, he was 
 subject to no small anxiety from different causes, and especially from the 
 feeble health of his wife, and the dangerous illness of his sister. His own 
 health began soon perceptibly to wane, and so much was he affected by the 
 heat of early summer that he found himself under the necessity of tem- 
 porarily withdrawing from his labours. Accordingly, having left his house- 
 hold in the charge of a young friend and relative, he wandered away from 
 home, in the hope that two or three months spent in recreation might so 
 invigorate his system that he would be prepared to resume the duties of 
 his charge. Towards the end of September he actually did resume them, 
 by the advice of his physician, and seems to have projected much work 
 for himself, though he was quickly admonished that he was still an invalid. 
 Rut another cloud now darkened his sky which he had not before seen even 
 in the distance. On the 3d of December, his wife died, leaving to his 
 charge an infant only a few days old. It was a desolating stroke to him, 
 and he felt it most deeply; but still maintained a calmness and even cheer- 
 fulness that astonished his friends. 
 
HIRAM WITHINGTON. 569 
 
 Mr. Withington devoted no small part of his time to pastoral visitation. 
 His visits, during the first year of his ministry, amounted to five hundred 
 and fifty, and, in the third year, to eight hundred. He was particularly 
 attentive to the sick and afflicted. Among other services which he ren- 
 dered was the founding of a Minister's Library, partly from the bequest 
 of a generous parishioner, and partly by contributions from ladies of the 
 Society. 
 
 On the 21st of February, 1848, he was married to Phila A. Field ; and 
 on the occasion he writes thus : — " Shall I build again the sacred walls of 
 home, whose sudden fall has left me surrounded with a heap of ruin ? 
 Will the old Eden of love, and thought, and hope come back again ? I 
 feel as if it might. I need not say that I am happy ; happier than I ever 
 trusted or dared hope to be again." But, notwithstanding the cheerful ex- 
 perience which he here records, the tone of his system seems to have been 
 permanently depressed, and his mind came to be ill at ease on the great 
 question as to the nature and grounds of authority in religious belief. 
 After undergoing much physical prostration, and many severe mental strug- 
 gles, he asked leave on the 2d of July to resign his pastoral charge, and the 
 parish reluctantly consented to his request on the 31st of the same month ; 
 voting unanimously to continue his salary to him till November follow- 
 ing. On the 3d of September he delivered his Farewell Sermon, of which 
 the following paragraphs were the conclusion : — 
 
 " "Wherever we dwell in this world of time, the same Heavens are over us, and the 
 same benignant presence is around us, a guide and a protection. However apart our 
 lives may lie henceforth, the sympathy of friendly regard, of common thoughts and 
 aims, and of Christian faith and aspiration, will, I trust, unite me with many among 
 you. In the pleasant memories, and the kindly affections, and the earnest prayers of 
 my heart, you will always hold a place. 
 
 " And now may all good gifts abound unto you. The faith and the spirit of Jesus 
 abide with you, sanctifying your hearts and your homes. God Almighty keep and 
 bless you in joy and in sorrow, in time and eternity. Farewell." 
 
 On Friday, the 15th of September, he removed with his wife and child 
 to Dorchester, and took up his residence with his father. Having an en- 
 gagement to preach at Taunton, the following Sabbath, and finding him- 
 self too unwell to make the journey, he went to Boston to procure a sub- 
 stitute; but, not succeeding in this, he actually went himself and met the 
 engagement. On reaching home on Monday, he complained of increased 
 illness, and, in the course of a day or two, it became apparent that he was 
 suffering from fever. Considering the issue of his complaint as uncertain, 
 he made his will, and arranged all his temporal concerns with reference to 
 his departure. For three or four weeks from the commencement of his 
 illness, his friends cherished strong hopes of his recovery ; but now a deci- 
 dedly unfavourable change seemed to. render it almost certain that his disease 
 was incurable. Afterwards, however, it seemed to take a more favour- 
 able turn, and this apparent improvement continued for two weeks, — 
 nearly up to the day of his death. His wife had been" seized by a violent 
 illness shortly after his own attack, and had not seen him for several weeks 
 until she walked into his chamber on the morning of his decease. He 
 smiled upon her, and reached out his hand, but could not speak. He died 
 on the 30th of October; and on the 2d of November, a Funeral service was 
 held at the church where he had been accustomed to attend, and was con- 
 
570 UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL. 
 
 ducted by Ms former Pastor, the Rev. Mr. Hall. The remains were then 
 removed to Leominster for burial, where there was a Funeral Discourse 
 delivered to a large congregation, by the Rev. Calvin Lincoln, of Fitch- 
 burg. 
 
 The year after his death, a Memoir of his life was published, with Selec- 
 tions from his Sermons and Correspondence. 
 
 PROM THE REV. NATHANAEL HALL. . 
 
 Dorchester, Mass., February 1, 18G4. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir: You request of me a letter of personal recollections in 
 respect to the Rev. Hiram Withington, who, as you rightly suppose, « was 
 brought up chiefly under my ministry," and who was connected with my 
 church as a regular attendant from childhood, as a, communicant, and as a 
 Sunday School Teacher and Superintendent. Of his earlier life, to his seven- 
 teenth year, (which was about his age at the time I took charge of the church,) 
 I know personally nothing. He was, at the time, a teacher in one of the pub- 
 lic grammar schools of the town, and known and prized as a youth of more 
 than ordinary brightness of intellect, high aims and amiable dispositions, of 
 ingenuous and blameless character. The tendencies of his nature were to the 
 true, the right and the good, — tendencies which were strengthened by the in- 
 fluences of his home. His father was among the best specimens of the Puri- 
 tan stock, joining with a stern uprightness and guileless sincerity a most genial 
 manner and a childlike affectionateness. His occupation was that of a shoe- 
 maker, which he pursued at his home, enabling him to spend much of his time 
 with his children. Their mother, too, was a kind and devoted one; and 
 Hiram being the youngest, and by a good many years such, received naturally, 
 as well from this fact as from the sweet attractiveness of his nature, a large 
 share of parental tenderness and regard. But in all who knew him he inspired 
 a peculiar interest and hopeful predictions of his future. 
 
 My first knowledge of him was as one growingly interested in preaching 
 and its- sacred themes. His religious sensibilities, quick and strong, unfolded, 
 while yet a youth, in a form and measure which indicated and foretold his 
 
 future calling. He chose it without hesitation it may be truly said it was 
 
 chosen for him; and it was but for him to prepare himself to enter upon it. 
 This he set about doing against pecuniary and other obstacles, with a manly 
 and self-devoting resoluteness, and was at length examined for admission and 
 received into the Theological School at Cambridge. Here he gave himself, 
 mind and heart, to the work before him, most faithfully making use of the 
 materials provided for him, and pursuing a range of thought and a freedom of 
 speculation, — free but reverent, — far higher than the requirements of the 
 recitation room would have held him' to. He greatly attached himself to his 
 fellow students and his teachers, by the beautiful simplicity and childlike 
 warmth of his manners, and his elevation and earnestness of spirit. His 
 appearance at this time indicated a youthfulness extremer than the fact He 
 looked the boy, though he moved the man. He was short of stature, slightly 
 built, of a delicate organization, but wearing the hue of health in his florid 
 and beaming countenance. The whole man won, at first sight, a favourable 
 regard, less by any greatness of expectation from him than by a something in 
 him which spoke of genuineness and moral worth, of inward purity and beauty. 
 As a Preacher, he interested all, gaining and holding their attention as few 
 are able to. While his preaching was simple in style, it was rich in thought; 
 and his style, though simple, was not without the glow and embellishment of ' 
 a mind to which the poetic element was largely given. There was nothing 
 common-place in his preaching, and yet nothing too abstruse for the contem- 
 
HIRAM WITHINGTON. 571 
 
 plation of the ordinary hearer. He excelled in addressing the young. His 
 words fell like sunshine and dew upon the heart of children. He attracted 
 them not more by his power of illustration, which was very marked and felic- 
 itous, and his way of presenting truth to them, .than by a charm of manner 
 and expression, begotten,by his own childlike nature, and by a sympathy with 
 all that was truest and best in the hearts he addressed. He had talent of a 
 high order — some would name it genius — a certain quickness and brilliancy 
 of conception, with a remarkable facility and rapidity of composition. This 
 latter gift may be almost said to have been a fatal one with him, inasmuch as, 
 conscious of its possession, he was often led to defer a preparation for his 
 public services until an over excited brain or a sleepless night became the 
 necessary cost of it. Taking charge of a large parish, with a conscientious de- 
 termination and a self-devoting earnestness of endeavour to do his whole duty, 
 as Preacher and Pastor, with the comparatively slender mental resources and 
 imperfect discipline which are experienced from an absence of collegiate train- 
 ing, and with a natural delicacy of physical constitution, and a, too often al- 
 lowed violation of physical laws, through necessities which he partly made for 
 himself, and which were partly enforced upon him by the circumstances of his 
 position, — he gradually sank beneath the weight of his burden, and was com- 
 pelled to leave, all too soon for others' good, a work and sphere in which his 
 heart found delight, in which he rejoiced to " spend and be spent." His min- 
 istry was brief, but it has doubtless left an enduring impress upon man 
 nearts. Very respectfully yours. 
 
 NATHANAEL HALL. 
 
ALPHABETICAL INDEX 
 
 OF THE 
 
 dSTAMES OF THE SUBJECTS. 
 
 -"■- PAGE. 
 
 Abbot Abiel, D. D 229 
 
 Abbot Abiel, D. D 309 
 
 Abbot Jacob 320 
 
 Abbot John Emery 466 
 
 Abbot John Lovejoy 420 
 
 Allyn John, D. D 207 
 
 B. 
 
 Bancroft Aaron, D. D 132 
 
 Barnards (of Salem) 14 
 
 Barnea David, D. D 32 
 
 Bartlett John 416 
 
 Belknap Jeremy, D. D 73 
 
 Bentley William, D. D 154 
 
 Brazer John, D. D 504 
 
 Buckminster Joseph Stevens 384 
 
 c. 
 
 Cary Samuel 424 
 
 Channing "William Ellery, D. D 360 
 
 Chauncy Charles, D. D 8 
 
 Clarke John, D. D 105 
 
 Cummings Henry, D. D 55 
 
 D. 
 
 Damon David, D. D 461 
 
 Doggett Simeon 291 
 
 E. 
 
 Eaton Peter, D. D 222 
 
 Eliot John, D. D 92 
 
 Emerson William 241 
 
 F. 
 
 Flint James, D. D 407 
 
 Follen Charles, D. C. L 538 
 
 Forster Anthony 457 
 
 Freeman James, D. D 162 
 
 Frotbingham William 357 
 
 a. 
 
 Gay Ebenezer, D. D 1 
 
 Goodwin Ezra Shaw 427 
 
 Goodwin Henry Bradford 548 
 
 GreenwoodFrancisWm.PittjD.D. . . 485 
 
 H 
 
 Harris Thaddeus Mason, D. D 215 
 
 Hildreth Hosea 445 
 
 Hitchcock Gad, D. D 29 
 
 Howard Bezaleel, D. D 181 
 
 Howard Simeon, D. D 65 
 
 J. 
 Judd Sylvester 559 
 
 K. 
 Kendal Samuel, D. D 176 
 
 Kirkland John Thornton, D. D. LL. D. 261 
 
 L. 
 
 Lathrop John,D. D 68 
 
 M. 
 
 Mayhew Jonathan, D. D 22 
 
 Mottey Joseph 125 
 
 N. 
 
 Norton Andrews 430 
 
 P. 
 
 Packard Hezekiah, D. D 281 
 
 Parker Nathan, D. D 411 
 
 Parkman Francis, D. D 449 
 
 Peabody Wm. Bourne Oliver, D. D. . . 493 
 
 Pierce John, D. D 331 
 
 Porter Eliphalet, D. D 157 
 
 Priestley Joseph, LL. D 298 
 
 Prince John, LL. D 128 
 
 R. 
 
 Reed John, D. D 143 
 
 Ripley Ezra, D. D 112 
 
 s. 
 
 Sanders Daniel Clarke, D. D 226 
 
 Sanger Zedekiah, D. D 99 
 
 Sherman John 326 
 
 Shute Daniel, D. D 18 
 
 Simmons George Frederick 554 
 
 Stearns Charles, D. D 147 
 
 Symmes William, D. D 35 
 
 T. 
 
 Thacher Samuel Cooper 435 
 
 Thacher Thomas 140 
 
 Thaxter Joseph 83 
 
 Thayer Nathaniel, D. D 246 
 
 Tuckerman Joseph, D. D 345 
 
 W. 
 
 Ware Henry, D. D 199 
 
 Ware Henry Jr., D. D 472 
 
 Ware William 511 
 
 Wells George Wadsworth 528 
 
 Wells William, D. D 254 
 
 West Samuel, D. D. (of New Bedford) 37 
 
 West Samuel, D . D . (of Boston) 50 
 
 White William Hunt 533 
 
 Whitman Bernard 518 
 
 Whitman Jason 552 
 
 Withington Hiram 567 
 
 Worcester Noah, D. D 191 
 
 Y. 
 
 Young Alexander, D. D 524 
 
ALPHABETICAL INDEX 
 
 OF THE 
 
 NAMES OF THOSE WHO HAVE FURNISHED ORIGINAL LETTERS. 
 
 A. PAGE. 
 
 Abbot Abiel, D. D. . 35, 59, 268, 290, 320 
 
 329 
 
 Abbot Benjamin, LL. D 470 
 
 Abbot Rev. Ephraim 323, 533 
 
 Allen Rev. George 4 
 
 Allen Joseph, D. D... .513, 522, 526, 554 
 Allen Rev. Morrill 30 
 
 B. 
 
 Bancroft Hon. George, LL. D 138 
 
 Bartol Cyrus Augustus, D. D 530 
 
 Bates Joshua, D. D 393 
 
 Bellas Hugh, Esq 305 
 
 Bellows Henry W., D. D 514 
 
 Blagden George W., D. D 196 
 
 Boutwell Hon. George S., LL. D 532 
 
 Brigham Rev. Charles H 291 
 
 Bultinch Thomas, Esq 485 
 
 C. 
 Calhoun Hon. "William B., LL. D. . . . 501 
 
 Clarke James Freeman, D. D 162 
 
 Crosby Jaazaniah, D.D 432, 444 
 
 D. 
 
 Dewey Orville, D. D 372 
 
 E. 
 
 Emerson George B., LL. D 531 
 
 Emerson Ralph "Waldo 117. 244 
 
 Emery Miss Margaret T 187 \ 498 
 
 Everett Hon. Edward, LL. D 399 
 
 F. 
 
 Farley Frederick A., D. D 174 
 
 Field Joseph, D.D 151 
 
 Flint James, D.D 146 
 
 Forsyth John, D.D 341, 356 
 
 Francis Convers, D. D 210 
 
 Frothingham N. L., D. D 12 
 
 G. 
 
 Gannett Rev. Allen 126 
 
 Gilman Samuel, D. D 504 
 
 H. 
 
 Hall Edward B., D. D 479 
 
 Hall Rev. Natbanael 570 
 
 Hedge Frederick H., D. D 342 
 
 Hooker 'Edward W., D. D 370 
 
 HosmerG. W.,D.D 118, 550 
 
 Howard Bezaleel, D.D 12 
 
 Huntington Frederick Dan, D. D 454 
 
 Hurd Isaac, D.D 453 
 
 " • PAGE. 
 
 Jarvis Edward, M. D 121 
 
 Jarvis Hon. "William 107 
 
 Jenks William, D. D 97 
 
 Jones Joseph H., D. D 238 
 
 K. 
 
 Kendall James, D.D 33, 179 
 
 L. 
 
 Lamson Alvan, D. D 180, 273 
 
 Leonard Levi "W., D. D 102 
 
 Lincoln Rev. Calvin 90 
 
 Lincoln Hon. Levi, LL. D 137 
 
 Lincoln Hon. Solomon 5, 18 
 
 Livermore Rev. A. A 206 
 
 Lowell Charles, D..D., 49, 72. 104,161, 244 
 
 M. 
 
 May Rev. Samuel J.. .172, 429, 465, 488 
 Morison J. H., D. D 37 
 
 N. 
 
 Norton Professor Andrews 442 
 
 0. 
 
 Osgood Samuel, D.D. (of Springfield) 141 
 
 221, 425, 503, 558 
 
 Osgood Samuel, D. D. (of New York) 557 
 
 P. 
 
 Packard Professor A. S 284 
 
 Palfrey Cazneau, D. D 357, 551 
 
 Palfrey John G., D. D., LL. D. . : . . . 403 
 
 Parkman Francis, D.D 110 
 
 Peabody A. P., D. D. . 207, 317. 410, 413 
 
 418, 434, 513, 518 
 Peabody Miss Elizabeth P.. 253, 279, 354 
 
 378, 409, 490, 544 
 
 Peabody Ephraim, D.D 376 
 
 Pierce John, D. D., 54, 65, 68, 83, 96, 108 
 
 160, 215, 241, 444 
 
 Pitkin Thomas C, D. D 566 
 
 Putnam George, D. D 203, 338 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quincy Hon. Josiah, LL. D 82, 98 
 
 E. 
 
 Richardson Rev. Joseph 59 
 
 S. 
 
 SewallRev. Samuel 152, 422 
 
 Simmons Rev. George F 544 
 
 Smith Rev. Samuel A 240 
 
576 
 
 ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Sprague Hon. Joseph E 130, 156 
 
 Stearns "William A., D. D 27(3 
 
 Stone Rev. Micah 109 
 
 T. 
 
 Tuckerman Henry T., Esq 350 
 
 u. 
 
 TJpham Rev. Charles "Wentworth, 273, 447 
 
 w. 
 
 "Waldo Rev. Daniel 184, 270, 340 
 
 "Walker James, D. D., LL. D 433 
 
 Warren John C, M. D 406 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Wells "William, Esq 254 
 
 "West Samuel, M. D 48 
 
 Whipple Edwin P., Esq 455 
 
 Whitman Rev. Nathaniel 61, 149, 224 
 
 "Wight Rev. John B 163 
 
 Willard Samuel, D. D.. . 4, 185, 250, 260 
 
 482 
 
 "Williams Rev. Eleazer 228 
 
 "Winthrop Hon. Robert C, LL. D... 526 
 
 Withington Leonard, D. D 448 
 
 "Worcester Thomas, D. D 198 
 
 Y. 
 
 Young Alexander, D. D 270 
 
ALPHABETICAL INDEX 
 
 NAMES INCIDENTALLY INTRODUCED EITHER IN THE TEXT OR THE NOTES. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Abbot Benjamin 466 
 
 Adams Amos 158 
 
 Adams Cornelius 234 
 
 Adams Joseph 14 
 
 Adams Moses 115 
 
 Adams Phineas 222 
 
 Adams Thomas 67 
 
 Adams Zabdiel 462 
 
 Allen Isaac 173 
 
 Allen Wilkes 58 
 
 Barker James 292 
 
 Barker Joseph 292 
 
 Bayley Josiah 15 
 
 Beede Thomas 243 
 
 Billings Edward 10 
 
 Bowman Joseph 10 
 
 Bradford Alden 209 
 
 Bridge Ebenezer 58 
 
 Brown John 6 
 
 Bryant Lemuel 6 
 
 Burnap G. W., D. D xvi 
 
 Burnap Jacob, D. D 133 
 
 Carpenter Ezra 3 
 
 Channing Henry 361 
 
 Church Selden 192 
 
 Clark Samuel 244 
 
 Colman Henry 213 
 
 Conant Sylvanus 292 
 
 Cushing Jonathan 74 
 
 Dorby Jonathan 3 
 
 Dunbar Asa 15 
 
 Dunbar Elijah 58 
 
 Eaton John Hubbard 224 
 
 Eaton Peter Sidney 224 
 
 Edes Henry, D. D 95 
 
 Emerson Daniel 56 
 
 Estabrook Experience 192 
 
 Fletcher Nathaniel Hill 230 
 
 Flint Timothy 409 
 
 Foster Edmond 534 
 
 Francis Convers, D. D 209, 210 
 
 Frink Thomas 10 
 
 Gardner Francis 249 
 
 Gilman Samuel, D. D 348, 349 
 
 Vol. VIII. 37 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Gray Frederick Tarell 349 
 
 Green Joseph 3 
 
 Green Joseph, Jr 3 
 
 Gurney David 427 
 
 Hartwell Jonas 144 
 
 Haven Thomas 133 
 
 Hobby William 132 
 
 Holeomb Reuben 446 
 
 Holley Horace, LL. D 265, 266 
 
 Holmes Caleb 428 
 
 Hooper Hezekiah 101 
 
 Hurd Isaac, D. D 179 
 
 Kendall James, D. D 427, 428 
 
 Kent Benjamin 208 
 
 Kimball David Tenney 316 
 
 Lawrence William 534 
 
 Lazell Ebenezer 101 
 
 Little Daniel 250 
 
 Little Robert xix 
 
 Locke Samuel, D. D 99, 100 
 
 Lovejoy Elijah Parish 365 
 
 Lowell Charles, D. D 390, 391 
 
 Mason William 358 
 
 Messenger Roswell 115 
 
 Moore Jonathan 48 
 
 Morey George 223 
 
 Morse Ebenezer 216 
 
 Newell Jonathan 54 
 
 Nichols Ichabod, D. D 423 
 
 Norton John I 
 
 Nourse Peter 179 
 
 Osgood Jonathan 534 
 
 Peabody Oliver William Bourne 500 
 
 Perkins Daniel 143 
 
 Pipon John 265 
 
 Prentice Caleb 158 
 
 Sawyer Moses 193 
 
 Shaw Bezaleel 427 
 
 Shaw John 427 
 
 Shaw John, Jr 427 
 
 Shaw Oakes 427 
 
 Shuttlesworth Samuel 136 
 
 Spring Alpheus 282 
 
 Stearns Daniel Mansfield 149 
 
 Stearns William Lawrence 149 
 
578 
 
 ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Steward Antipas 183 
 
 Sumner Joseph 136 
 
 Sumner Samuel 136 
 
 Taft Moses 427 
 
 Thayer Ebenezer 246 
 
 Tilton Nathan 209 
 
 Townsend Shearjashub Bourne 95 
 
 "Warren Silas 358 
 
 Waterman Jotham 33 
 
 Watson Samuel 101 
 
 Welch Francis 230 
 
 Wells William 449 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 West Thomas 50, 61 
 
 Whitcomb Elihu 248 
 
 White John 116 
 
 Whitman Kilborn 144 
 
 Willard Joseph 411 
 
 Willard Samuel, D. D 248, 249 
 
 Williams Avery 179 
 
 Williams Henry 179 
 
 Wilson James 101 
 
 Worcester Thomas 193, 194 
 
 Wright Phineas 58 
 
 Wyeth John 158