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 BR 525 .05 1846 
 
 The old white meetinghouse; 
 or. Reminiscences of a 
 
 - i 
 
J, M /7^^.i^U^4^^ 
 
 THE 
 
 y 
 
 OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 REMINISCENCES 
 
 OF A 
 
 COUNTRY CONGREGATION. 
 
 " At church, with meek and unaffected grace, 
 His looks adorned the venerable place ; 
 Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, 
 And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray." 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 ROBERT CARTER, 58 CANAL STREET, 
 
 AND PITTSBURG, 56 MARKET STREET. 
 1846. , 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1846, 
 
 By ROBERT CARTER, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, 
 
 in and for the Southern District of New York. 
 
 Stereotyped by Redfield & Savage, 
 13 Chambers street, N. Y. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 The following pages are the records of 
 truth. They are given to the public with 
 a good motive, and the reader will find 
 that "still life" in the country, may furnish 
 scenes of interest as intense and stirring as 
 the realms of fiction. 
 
 The writer has aimed at doing good by 
 these sketches. Evils in country congre- 
 gations, more or less common to all, he 
 has rebuked with an unsparing hand ; while 
 in the good pastor and many of his flock, 
 there are bright examples of faith and 
 works, that he has loved to portray for the 
 admiration and imitation of those who may 
 
INTEODUCTORT NOTE. 
 
 contemplate them. If the characters here 
 described are recognised, the writer trusts 
 to the good sense of the people, to pardon 
 him for the liberty he has taken with those 
 whose Mildness he remembers with grati- 
 tude, and whose faces he can never forget. 
 New York, March 26, 1846. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAGE. 
 The Old "White Meetinghouse 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Old Graveyard 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 « Our Minister" 29 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The People — Scenes in the Church — Elder But- 
 ler — Mrs. Burtis and her Child — Elder Van 
 Slate— Mrs Sniffle 50 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Our Singing-Schools — Dancing-Schools 73 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Old-Fashioned Revivals— The Ball— The Horse- 
 race 99 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Spinning-Bees — Apple-Parings — Weddings 128 
 
 J* 
 
6 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. PAGE. 
 The Secret Disciple 155 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 The Forger 169 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 The First Grief— Taking it easy 183 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 Richard Rogers's First Sermon 194 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Dismissal of " Our Minister" 209 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 COUNTRY CONGREGATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY SCENES AND IMPRESSIONS — THE OLD 
 WHITE MEETING-HOUSE. 
 
 Driven about for many and weary years 
 on the world's wide sea, I have at last made 
 harbor here in this goodly city of Gotham, 
 better known as New York. But my heart 
 turns often and fondly to that spot away 
 up in the country, where my boyhood and 
 youth were passed, where those dear to me 
 are buried, where I first learned to read and 
 to pray, where I thought to live and to die. 
 
 It was in the old town of , in the 
 
 state of , and those who know not 
 
8 THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 
 
 the geography of that part of the world, 
 must be told that the town is a wide, fertile 
 plain, some ten or twelve miles across, cir- 
 cled with hills, watered by lovely and gentle 
 streams, and peopled by a set of independ- 
 ent farmers, who are well to do for this 
 world, and the most of them have been wise 
 enough to make provision for the world to 
 come. 
 
 It was in this town that I had my "bring- 
 ing up," such as it was ; this was the scene 
 of a thousand youthful adventures in school- 
 boy days, and of a thousand incidents of 
 social and domestic life, that now come 
 back to the call of memory, like the spirits 
 of those we have loved, pleasant to meet 
 again, but mournful as the truth comes with 
 them that they are gone to return no more. 
 
 But there is little that is mournful to the 
 reader in these sketches. He shall find 
 nothing but pleasure in the reminiscences, 
 and as I tell him of the "Old White Meet- 
 inghouse," and the " Minister and his Fam- 
 ily," and the "Elders and Deacons," and 
 
THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 9 
 
 "A few of the Neighbors," and then go 
 abroad in the congregation, and speak of 
 the habits of the people, their business and 
 amusements, and enter into their church 
 matters, and mention the quarrel they had 
 about the old minister, how they all loved 
 him till one of them took offence at the 
 truth and stirred up strife and drove him 
 away, how they quarrelled about a new 
 minister, and how they have prospered since 
 — as I go over all these, and fifty other 
 things, which these will suggest as we go 
 along, the reader will not be tempted to the 
 melancholy mood. We will keep clear of 
 that, though we speak of serious things in a 
 serious way. 
 
 I could spend some time in describing 
 *'our house," and the things in and around 
 it, and it might not be out of the way to do 
 so, as the natural course to matters of more 
 public interest. There was a stream close 
 by the door that was my resort in the trout 
 season, and there was a grove of pines but 
 a short distance off, into which I often in 
 
10 THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 
 
 childhood wandered alone, and long before 
 I ever heard of Coleridge, or his hymn in 
 the Vale of Chamouni where he says, 
 
 " Ye pine groves, with your soft aud soul-like sounds," 
 
 I had loved to sit down on the moss, and 
 listen to the spirit-melody of the still air 
 among the tree-tops : sighing to my soul, 
 and saddening, I could not tell why, my 
 young heart. There I used to think of 
 communing with God and the spirits of the 
 good in heaven, and in the solemn twilight 
 of those deep shades, I had thoughts of 
 loving and serving God which are now 
 working themselves out in life's struggles, 
 and will never be fully answered, till He who 
 called me then, shall call me to himself. 
 Then there was the old schoolhouse, and 
 a hard set of boys, and I might spend an 
 hour or a week in making chronicles of the 
 first dozen of them that now leap up before 
 the mind's eye, like young tigers, begging 
 me to draw their portraits, and send them 
 down the stream of time with these rough 
 
THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 11 
 
 sketches. But the boys must wait. We 
 have no room for them. Some of them 
 will come in by the way, and we shall here 
 and there set up a stone to the memory of 
 some poor fellow, at whose fate we drop a 
 passing tear. It is the religious life of the 
 people that I want to bring out for the en- 
 tertainment and instruction of those who 
 may read, and unless I greatly mistake, the 
 history will not be without its uses, although 
 I feel full well that it will suffer much from 
 the insufficiency of him who has ventured 
 to be the historian. 
 
 "The Old White Meetinghouse." 
 — So it was called, and by this name it was 
 known all over the country. Not but that 
 there were other white meetinghouses in 
 that region, but this was by way of eminence 
 the White Meetinghouse, as the largest, 
 and oldest, and most respectable, and when 
 a political meeting, or general training, or 
 a show, was to be held at the tavern oppo- 
 site, the notice was given that the gathering 
 was to be at the White Meetinghouse 
 
12 THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 
 
 corners, and everybody for a dozen miles 
 around, knew at once where it was to be. 
 
 It was a large square building, with a 
 steeple whose lofty spire gave me my first 
 and strongest impressions of *' amazing 
 height ;" and now as I look at '* Trinity" 
 here in Broadway, and the men dwindled 
 into dwarfs on its all but " cloud-capt 
 towers," it does not look half as tall as that 
 steeple, with ?ijish for a weather-cock^ wheel- 
 ing in the breeze. How often have I lain 
 on " the green" in front of that church, and 
 wondered how in the world they ever got 
 that fish away up there ; or who hitched 
 the lightning rod to that spire, and how any 
 one ever dared to shingle the roof of that 
 awful steeple almost to the very summit. 
 And sometimes in the night when I had 
 "bad dreams," I fancied that I was clasping 
 that steeple in my little arms, and sliding 
 slowly down, the steeple widening, and ray 
 hold relaxing, till at length down I came, 
 down, down, and just as 1 was to strike the 
 ground, I would wake in terror, and be 
 
THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 13 
 
 afraid to go to sleep again, lest I should re- 
 peat that terrible slide. 
 
 The church had square pews, with high 
 partitions and sash-work between, which 
 were great inlets of amusement to the chil- 
 dren who would be always thrusting their 
 arms through, and sometimes their heads, 
 in the midst of sermon, but more particular- 
 ly in prayer-time, for then they were more 
 likely to escape observation. These square 
 pews the minister always was free to say he 
 regarded as an invention of the devil, and 
 there was some reason to beheve that the 
 devil had the right to a patent. As half of 
 the congregation must sit with their backs 
 to the preacher, it was customary for the 
 parents to place the children in this position, 
 and it is easy to see that thus situated, it 
 would be next to impossible to secure their 
 attention to the services of the sanctuary. 
 Of course the devil would be pleased with 
 an arrangement which so effectually pre- 
 vents the young from becoming interested 
 in divine truth, and I do not therefore won- 
 2 
 
14 THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 
 
 der at the good minister's notice of the origin 
 of the plan. 
 
 The pulpit was like unto an immense 
 barrel supported on a single post. Its in- 
 terior was gained by a lofty flight of steps, 
 and the preacher once in possession, had 
 certainly a most commanding position. I 
 can recollect often thinking how easy it 
 would be with a saw to cut away the pillar 
 on which this old pulpit tottered, and then 
 what a tremendous crash it would make, 
 coming down with the minister in it. And 
 this reminds me of one of the minister's 
 boys, an arch rogue, about five years old, 
 who was so much in the habit of misbe- 
 having in meeting, that he had to be punish- 
 ed often and soundly but with no sanative 
 consequences. His father threatened fre- 
 quently to take him into the pulpit with him 
 if he did not behave better, but the young- 
 ster never believed that he was serious in 
 the threat, or if he was, Dick had a very 
 natural idea that there was as much chance 
 for fun in the pulpit behind his father's back, 
 
THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 15 
 
 as there was in the pew before him. At 
 length the pastor was as good as his word, 
 and one Sunday morning, to the surprise 
 of the people, he led his roguish boy up 
 into the pulpit, and proceeded with the 
 service. Richard began to be uneasy, but 
 remained comfortably quiet until the long 
 prayer began ; then he fidgeted up on the 
 seat, and peaked over upon the congrega- 
 tion below ; and, finally as a sudden thought 
 struck him, he threw one leg over the pul- 
 pit, and there sat astride of the sacred desk, 
 drumming with his litde heels upon the 
 boards. The good pastor was at prayer, 
 and could not turn aside to dismount his 
 hopeful boy, but between his fears that the 
 child should fall, and the indications of 
 mirth among the young folks in the church, 
 the minister had more than he could do to 
 keep his thoughts on the service, and he 
 therefore speedily brought his petitions to a 
 close, and seized the youthful Richard in 
 the midst of his ride. We never saw Dick 
 in the pulpit again, and a marked improve- 
 
16 THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 
 
 ment in his manners gave us reason to be- 
 lieve that certain domestic appUances were 
 resorted to, which have the recommendation 
 of the wisest of men, as useful in cases of 
 this desperate nature. 
 
 The old church was the haunt of swallows 
 that built their nests under its caves ; and it 
 was no unusual thing for one of those swift- 
 winged birds to dart into the open window 
 on a summer sabbath, and by some strange 
 perversity, to persist in flying everywhere 
 but out of the window again, till wearied 
 with flying to and fro it would light on the 
 sounding-board over the minister's head. 
 These gyrations were quite an amusement 
 to the children, and I remember that on one 
 of these occasions, the same young Richard, 
 who has already been introduced, thought 
 he had hit upon something smart when he 
 turned up the 84th psalm in Watts : — 
 
 " And wandering swallows long 
 To find their wonted rest." 
 
 But that pulpit or that house was no place 
 for mirth. Never in all the wanderings of 
 
THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 17 
 
 after-life, in splendid temples, where the 
 wealth of princes has been lavished, to make 
 honorable the house of God, where the 
 stained windows shed dim religious light 
 over the solemn courts, and the great organ 
 poured its deep thunders on the ear, never 
 there, or elsewhere, have I seen or heard 
 so much of God as in that old white meeting- 
 house. It was a plain house, it is true. 
 Except the pulpit and the front of the galle- 
 ry, the whole interior was innocent of paint, 
 and the bare floor rung under the heavy 
 tread of the substantial farmers as they came 
 up the narrow aisles, with their horsewhips 
 in their hands : and they were a plain people 
 in that church ; some of them in hot weather 
 sat with their coats off, and some stood up 
 in sermon-time when they became drowsy 
 by sitting ; it was all the plainness of a 
 country congregation in a country meeting- 
 house ; but God was there, I have heard 
 him in his preached word, when the strong 
 truths of the gospel were poured with ener- 
 gy from that sacred desk, not in enticing 
 2* 
 
18 THE OLD WHITE MEETINGHOUSE. 
 
 words of man's wisdom, but with the dem- 
 onstration of the Spirit and with power. 
 I have felt him when the Holy Ghost has 
 come down on the congregation as on the 
 day of Pentecost, and strong men have 
 bowed themselves under the mighty in- 
 fluence of subduing grace. 
 
 But all these I shall have occasion to 
 speak of hereafter, when the minister and 
 his preaching and its fruits come up in re- 
 view. 
 
THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 19 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 
 
 In the rear of the meetinghouse was the 
 graveyard, and all my early recollections of 
 death and the grave, are associated with 
 that quiet and solemn spot. It was a large 
 enclosure which had never been laid off in 
 " lots to suit purchasers," but a decent in- 
 terval was left between families, and all 
 came there on common ground. A few 
 pines of a large growth were scattered in 
 it, and with the exception of here and there 
 a rose-bush, the place was unadorned. But 
 it had attractions. For every sabbath-day, 
 during the interval of divine worship, the 
 people from a distance, who remained at 
 church, " bringing their dinner'** with them, 
 were in the habit of walking among the 
 
20 THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 
 
 tombs, meditating upon themes suggested 
 by the inscriptions they read upon the head- 
 stones, and speaking to one another of the 
 virtues of those whom when living they 
 had known and loved. And often of 
 a summer sabbath evening, the young 
 people would stroll into the yard, the gate 
 of which was always left open on the sab- 
 bath, and at such time there was never 
 heard the slightest indication of levity or 
 irreverence for the holy day. 
 
 But observance of the sabbath was a 
 strongly-marked feature of that place and 
 people. A simple fact will show the state 
 of public opinion on this subject. On one 
 occasion, several young men, chiefly from 
 some mechanical establishments lately set 
 up in the neighborhood, not having the fear 
 of God or the laws of man before their 
 eyes, made up a party and went off to the 
 mountains to pick whortleberries. The 
 minister and a few of the good men held a 
 consultation, and it was determined to put 
 the statute of the state into execution and 
 
THE OLD GEAVETARD. 21 
 
 make an example of them, to prevent the 
 pernicious influences which might result to 
 the whole community, if such a flagrant 
 breach of morals were suffered to go un- 
 punished. Accordingly the whole party 
 were arrested, brought before 'Squire Jones, 
 and fined one dollar each. There was no 
 help for them, and they paid the fine ; but 
 they watched the opportunity for revenge. 
 And it soon came in a small way, for on the 
 next sabbath afternoon they saw the 'squire's 
 daughter, a fine girl of seventeen, in the 
 garden picking a few currants, and they 
 complained of her to her own father, had 
 her arrested, and the fact being too clearly 
 established by proof to admit of any evasion, 
 the 'squire was compelled to impose the 
 fine and pay it himself! This was quite a 
 triumph for these low fellows, who, how- 
 ever, were very careful not to go after 
 whortleberries on the sabbath again. But 
 this is wandering out of the old graveyard. 
 There was a simple beauty and solemnity 
 in those country funerals that I have not ob- 
 
THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 
 
 served for years. A death in the country 
 is a widely-different event in its relations 
 and effects, from one in the city. The 
 other day I observed an unusual gathering 
 at the house of my next-door neighbor, a 
 man whom I had never known even by 
 sight. Presently a hearse stood in front of 
 the house, and I soon learned that it had 
 come to take away the body of my neighbor 
 to his burial. It was sad to think of, that 
 I could have been living with only a thin 
 wall between me and a brother-man, who 
 had been for weeks struggling with disease, 
 and who had finally sunk into the arms of 
 death, while I had never even felt the ten- 
 derness of sympathy with him or his, in the 
 days and nights of suffering and sorrow 
 which they had known. Yet so it is in this 
 city. Your nearest neighbors are utter 
 strangers, and may sicken and die and be 
 buried, and you will know nothing of it, 
 unless you happen to be at home when the 
 hearse comes or goes. It is not so in the 
 country. There in L , when one was 
 
THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 23 
 
 sick all the neighbors knew it and felt it ; 
 kindness, like balm, fell on the heart of the 
 sufferer from every family near, and when 
 death came, solemnity was on every heart. 
 All the countryside, from far and near, 
 without being invited, came to the funeral, 
 and filled the house and the door-yard, and 
 when the services were concluded, the 
 coffin was brought out in front of the house, 
 and the multitude were permitted to take a 
 farewell look of the departed. Then the 
 remains were borne away to the grave, fol- 
 lowed by a long train, not of hired car- 
 riages, but of plain wagons filled with sym- 
 pathizing friends, and the procession moved 
 on slowly and silently, often many miles, 
 to the place of burial. As it reached the 
 yard, those who lived near, would drop in 
 and join the crowd that was now gathering 
 at the open grave, and the children of the 
 neighborhood, especially, were sure to be 
 present at such times. Frequently have I 
 been deeply moved by the scenes around 
 those graves — for there in the country, na- 
 
24 THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 
 
 ture revealed itself in its simple power — 
 and the deep but half-stifled groan that has 
 come to my soul when the first clods fell 
 on the coffin, was as if they fell on the 
 warm breast of a sleeping friend. We see 
 no such funerals here in this great city — 
 itself a mighty charnel-house. We take 
 our dead to the narrow cemetery, and for 
 thirty pieces of silver purchase the privilege 
 of putting the precious dust into a great 
 cellar. Some time ago, a friend of mine 
 wanted to remove the ashes of his wife from 
 one of these receptacles, and he applied to 
 the keeper for that purpose ; the man ob- 
 jected on account of the time that would be 
 consumed in the undertaking; my friend 
 offered to defray all the expenses, and re- 
 ward him liberally besides, but it was of no 
 avail ; and he was finally told that it would 
 be impossible ever to find or recover the 
 remains. These are city burials. Rural 
 cemeteries are now becoming more y^5/«*07i- 
 ahle(!) in the neighborhood of cities. Let 
 them be encouraged. Dust we are, and 
 
THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 25 
 
 when we die let us go back to our mother's 
 bosom and rest there till mortal puts on im- 
 mortality. 
 
 This last thought reminds me of the 
 great excitement which once pervaded the 
 community when it was reported that a 
 grave had been violated in that peaceful 
 yard, and the lifeless tenant carried off by 
 the doctors. The appearance of the grave 
 led to suspicion that there had been foul 
 play. It was examined, and the suspicions 
 were found to be too true. The body of 
 a girl some fourteen years of age, of re- 
 spectable family, had been stolen from the 
 sepulchre to be cut up and made into a 
 " 'natomy," as the people expressed it. 
 The whole town was aghast. Such an out- 
 rage had never been heard of in that part 
 of the world, and the good people could 
 scarcely believe that such monsters lived, 
 as men who dig up corpses to hack them 
 in pieces. They met in righteous indigna- 
 tion, and appointed a committee of inves- 
 tigation, who never rested till they got upon 
 3 
 
26 THE OLD GEAVETARD. 
 
 the trail of the hyenas ; they never rested 
 till the perpetrator of the deed was in pris- 
 on, and the instigator — Dr. , who es- 
 caped by some flaw in the indictment — 
 was compelled to remove from the town. 
 
 These events naturally led to great ap- 
 prehensions respecting other graves, and 
 many were searched by anxious friends, 
 who now watched the tombs with more 
 vigilance than did the guards set over the 
 holy sepulchre. The impression became 
 very strong that a certain grave had been 
 robbed. It was the grave of a lovely wo- 
 man, the wife of a drunkard ; and the fact 
 that he was dead to all feeling, and conse- 
 quently would not be likely to care what 
 became of the body of his wife, seemed to 
 confirm the grounds of suspicion, and 
 finally it was determined to make the exam- 
 ination. It was the afternoon of a warm 
 day in the midst of summer, when I, a mere 
 child then, was attracted into the yard by 
 seeing a number of men around a grave. I 
 soon learned what was going on, and creep- 
 
THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 27 
 
 ing between the feet of those who were 
 standing nearest, I was soon immediately 
 over the head of the grave which they had 
 now opened down to the coffin. Having 
 cleared off the earth and started the fasten- 
 ings of the Hd, which were all found se- 
 cure, they raised it, and the full light of the 
 sun flowed upon the most horrid spectacle 
 which my e^es before or since have seen ; — 
 
 " Corruption, earth, and worms," were there. 
 
 I waited not for a second look, but ran 
 from the spot in awful terror, and have, 
 from that time, had an image of " death's 
 doings," which I never could have obtained 
 but for the loathsome revelations of that 
 graveyard scene. 
 
 These are not the things that I intended 
 to record of that hallowed spot. Yet they 
 are, perhaps, among the most vivid impres- 
 sions that I retain of it ; unless it be my 
 fears to pass it alone after dark ! And I 
 should as soon have thought of setting fire 
 to the church, as of iilaying within the en- 
 
28 THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 
 
 closure. I looked upon it with reverential 
 awe as *' God's acre ;" and I wish with all 
 my heart that the feeling of regard for sa- 
 cred places, and times, and things, which 
 we felt in our childhood, might return. It 
 had its faults and its weaknesses, but they 
 were better than the care-for-nothing, dare- 
 devil spirit of the rising generation now-a- 
 days. But I shall have mo^e to say of 
 this hereafter. 
 
"OUR MINISTER." 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " OUR MINISTER." 
 
 *' We never shall see him more," I know 
 very well — too well ; and it is a matter of 
 great doubt with me whether we shall ever 
 see the like of him again. Yet there were 
 no eccentricities of character, natural or 
 artificial, by which he was made to differ 
 from the men of his own times or the men 
 of our times, and which are now to be re- 
 corded for the amusement and not the in- 
 struction of others. There have been such 
 men, and when we are reading their oddi- 
 ties, it is very easy to believe that if you 
 take away the oddities of the man, there 
 would be little or nothing left. The use- 
 fulness of such men is often looked at as 
 proof that their eccentricities were real vir- 
 3* 
 
30 " OUE MINISTER." 
 
 tues, and not blemishes upon their charac- 
 ters ; but I am inclined to the opinion that 
 they were usually useful in spite of their 
 peculiarities, and would have been far more 
 so, if they had been as other men, and 
 without those " bonds." 
 
 Our minister, the excellent Mr. Rogers, 
 had no one singularity of which I can now 
 think, and if the reader jumps to the con- 
 clusion that he was therefore a moderate, 
 every-day sort of man, not worth knowing 
 about, he must even skip the description, 
 and go on to something more to his taste. 
 
 That I always looked tip to Mr. Rogers 
 with such a reverential awe as the present 
 degenerate age knows very little of, is very 
 likely ; and it may be that if he had lived 
 in this day, when all ministers are so good 
 or all children so much more advanced 
 than they were thirty years ago, perhaps he 
 would not stand out before the world with 
 so bold a prominence as he did in my eyes, 
 when he walked slowly but modestly up 
 the aisle, and chmbed the lofty pulpit. 1 
 
" OUR MINISTER." 31 
 
 thought he was the holiest man in the 
 world ; he seemed awful holy ! I have 
 never had the least reason to suppose that 
 I was mistaken in those notions about him, 
 yet much allowance may doubtless be 
 made for a child's reverence for his pastor, 
 in days now gone, to come back never, I 
 sadly fear. 
 
 He was thirty-five or forty years of age 
 when I was five or six, and consequently 
 he was always an old man in my eyes ; and 
 I have no other recollections of him than 
 those associated with the deepest reverence. 
 That he ever sinned, I never supposed ; 
 and if any one had mentioned anything to 
 his disadvantage in my hearing, it would 
 have shocked me very much, as it would 
 now to hear of a peccadillo in an angel. 
 This is no place, and I have no time, to 
 go into the reasons of the change in the 
 sentiment of children respecting their min- 
 ister, but, from the bottom of my heart, I 
 wish that the good old times of Edwards 
 would come back again, or if that is wish- 
 
32 "OtJR MINISTER." 
 
 ing too much, the times when I was a boy ! 
 Those were good times compared with 
 these, though I have no hope to convince 
 the young of it. 
 
 He had an extraordinary voice, that is a 
 fact. Perhaps this ought to be written 
 down as a singularity. It rings this mo- 
 ment in my ears just as it did thirty years 
 ago, and not with the most pleasant music, 
 for it was harsh and strong, and when he 
 was roused by the great theme of pulpit 
 discourse, the gospel would come down in 
 such torrents of overwhelming sound, that 
 it sometimes seemed to me the people must 
 be carried by storm. Yet was he far from 
 being a violent preacher. He had too 
 much of the milk of human kindness in 
 his soul to say hard things in a hard way, 
 but the power of which I speak was the 
 voice of a mighty man on the mightiest 
 theme that ever employed the lips of man, 
 and how could he be otherwise than 
 overpowering? At times his voice was 
 terrible ! That is to say, when he sud- 
 
" OUR MINISTER." 33 
 
 denly raised it in a tone of command, he 
 would start every dull soul in that assembly 
 as if a thunderbolt had hit the old white 
 meetinghouse in the middle of the sermon. 
 I remember one sabbath, when the congre- 
 gation was unusually silent and solemn, a 
 half-crazy man, but more mischievous than 
 mad, rose in the gallery and commenced 
 making various gesticulations to amuse the 
 young people, who sat in that part of the 
 house. The congregation below did not 
 know that anything was going on, but the 
 minister saw it in a moment ; and to try 
 gentle means at first, he made a sign to the 
 man to sit down and be still. Wilson kept 
 his fun in operation till the forbearance of 
 good Mr. Rogers was quite spent, and 
 looking sternly at him, he thundered out, 
 ^^ Mr. Wilson, sit down, sir P^ The man 
 fell back in his seat as though a bludgeon 
 had smote him, and never raised his head 
 during the service. He called the next 
 day on Mr. Rogers and made an apology, 
 and sealed it by sending him a load of 
 
34 "OUR MINISTER." * 
 
 wood. But it was the effect of his voice 
 upon the congregation of which I was 
 speaking. If the roof had fallen in, the 
 people would scarcely have been more 
 startled than by this pastoral explosion. 
 Every heart trembled, and it was some 
 time before the children could get their 
 breath. Yet there was no sign of impa- 
 tience or any other unholy passion in the 
 sudden blow of his voice, by which the 
 worthy minister had lain low his disorderly 
 auditor ; but there was majesty and power 
 in those tremendous tones, which carried 
 conviction to every conscience, that Mr. 
 Rogers was not a man to be trifled with, 
 and that, standing in God's name and 
 house, he would teach every man to keep 
 in his place. 
 
 And here it is m order to speak of the 
 authority which Mr. Rogers wielded in that 
 congregation. It was the heautij of j^ower. 
 It was right that he should rule in the 
 church, according to the laws of the church 
 and the word of God; but his rule was 
 
"OUK MINISTER." 35 
 
 that of love, so kindly, yet firmly dispensed, 
 that no man thought of quarrelling with it, 
 who did not also war against divine author- 
 ity. The pastor was the pastor. As shep- 
 herd of the flock, it was his office to watch 
 over them and keep them, as far as in him 
 lay, from wandering into dangerous ways, 
 and from the covert or open assaults of en- 
 emies who go about, like their master, the 
 devil, seeking whom they may devour. 
 And when any one, or any dozen of the 
 sJieej) took it into their heads that they 
 knew more about the proper mode of man- 
 aging the flock than the shepherd whom the 
 Lord had sent to tend them, they soon 
 found that they had mistaken their calling, 
 and would consult their happiness and use- 
 fulness by quietly minding their own busi- 
 ness. Now you would not do Mr. Rogers 
 exact justice, if the inference should be 
 drawn from this fact that he was regardless 
 of the wishes of his people, or kept them 
 at a distance, when they wished to take 
 counsel with him on the interests of the 
 
36 " OUR MINISTER." 
 
 church. Far otherwise were his temper 
 and practice. They were taught, and they 
 learned to come with all freedom and lay 
 their hearts before him, and the patience 
 and sympathy with w^hich he listened to 
 their individual, and all but endless stories, 
 is a matter of wonder to me, now that I 
 call to mind how much of it he was com- 
 pelled to endure. I used to be often, when 
 a child, at his house, playing with his boys, 
 and had the most frequent and favorable 
 opportunities of observing that of which I 
 am now speaking. And while he w^as 
 ready always to enter with kindness and 
 freedom into the varied wants of those 
 who came to him with " something on their 
 minds," he knew his own duties too well, 
 and his high responsibility to God, to suf- 
 fer them for a moment to dictate to him 
 as to the mode in which he should manage 
 the flock of which he had been made the 
 overseer. Even in those days, the people 
 would sometimes have " itching ears" to 
 hear a new-light preacher of great renown, 
 
"OUR MINISTER." 37 
 
 who was turning the world upside down 
 with his eloquence, and they would take 
 some roundabout way to hint to Mr. Rogers 
 that it would be a good plan to send for 
 him to come and give them a few rousing 
 sermons. But they were not long in find- 
 ing, that Mr. Rogers held the keys of the 
 pulpit in his own hand, and asked whom he 
 pleased, and none others, to feed his flock. 
 If this uniform course of conduct now and 
 then chafed the necks of some of the less 
 judicious of the congregation, the pastor 
 had two rich and all-sufficient sources of 
 comfort — the support of all the better sort 
 of his people, and the approbation of a 
 good conscience. 
 
 Mr. Rogers's intercourse with his people 
 did not confine itself to their visits at his 
 study or house. He sought them at their 
 own homes, and around their firesides and 
 tables he mingled with them, in such easy 
 and cheerful conversation, that they felt 
 him to be their friend, while they never for- 
 got that he was their teacher and guide to 
 
 4 
 
38 "our minister." 
 
 heaven. We children never felt alt02:ether 
 at home when the minister was there. We 
 were not quite so free to come into the 
 room, and we hung down our heads, and 
 perhaps kept one thumb in our mouths, as 
 if w^e were very much ashamed of our- 
 selves when we were summoned into. his 
 presence " to say the catechism," and re- 
 ceive such good and wholesome advice, as 
 he never failed to administer, in tones that 
 sunk deep into our young hearts. Those 
 were often very solemn seasons, and if the 
 practice is passing away from the churches 
 of our land, I would that it might be re- 
 stored again. In these good days of Sun- 
 day-schools, and other excellent but modern 
 modes of training up children in the w^ay 
 in which they should go, the old-fashioned 
 plan of pastoral-catechizing has been laid 
 aside in very many parts of our land. I 
 speak not of the catechism of any particu- 
 lar creed. All those who call themselves 
 Christian^ have a duty to perform to their 
 children, and if the pastor and parents 
 
"OUR MINISTER." 39 
 
 would Imitate the example of our minister, 
 they would bless their children and the 
 country. In these pastoral visits, and in 
 the instruction which the young received in 
 preparation for it, were laid the principles 
 of that attachment to the doctrines of the 
 gospel, of the order of the church, and of 
 submission to law of God and of man, 
 obedience to parents, respect to those who 
 are older, wiser, and better, that ever 
 marked the youth who were trained under 
 the ministry of this man of God ; and I 
 am inclined to think, that if you follow the 
 whole generation that passed their child- 
 hood in that congregation at that time, you 
 will find very few who have not become, 
 and remained till death, sober, quiet, sub- 
 stantial citizens, and useful, honest men. 
 But this is not getting on with the story. 
 
 As soon as Mr. Rogers arrived at any 
 house in his scattered and extended parish, 
 all the ordinary cares of the family were 
 suspended, and the whole time of every 
 member given to him. On his first indue- 
 
40 ' "OUR MINISTER." 
 
 tion to this people, it was the custom of the 
 good woman of the house, to begin to fly 
 about when the minister came to fix up the 
 best parlor, and get ready some warm bis- 
 cuit for tea, or a pair of chickens for dinner, 
 if he came before noon, and thus all her 
 time was spent, like that of Martha, in much 
 serving. Mr. Rogers soon put an end to 
 that mode of entertainment, by informing 
 his people from the pulpit, that when he 
 came to see them at their houses, it was 
 not to be feasted, but to feed their souls 
 and the souls of their children ; and, there- 
 fore, if they wished to please him, they 
 would do as Mary did, sit still and listen. 
 This hint, after sundry repetitions, had the 
 desired effect, and he was able to enjoy 
 the whole time of his visit in those great 
 duties which he felt to be of unspeakable 
 importance to the spiritual welfare of the 
 family. The heads of the household were 
 first conversed with freely on the progress 
 which they were making in personal re- 
 ligion ; if they had doubts, and fears, or any 
 
"OUR MINISTER." 41 
 
 Other difficulties about which they needed 
 direction, they were encouraged to make 
 them known, and from the stores of his 
 well-furnished mind, and the richer treasures 
 of a deeply spiritual experience and great 
 familiarity with the word of God, he was 
 able to impart just that counsel which their 
 trials seemed to require. If they were 
 backward in their performance of any of the 
 acknowledged duties of Christian life, if 
 the worship of God in the family was not 
 faithfully attended to, if they were at variance 
 with any of their neighbors, or slack in the 
 discharge of their obligations to their fellow- 
 men, he would in all kindness, but with 
 skilful decision, as their soul's physician, 
 give ihem those prescriptions without which 
 it was impossible for their souls to thrive. 
 Such fidelity and freedom on his part, so 
 far from ahenating their affections, did but 
 endear him to them the more, as they saw 
 his affectionate interest in their souls' con- 
 cerns, and felt the power and truth of the 
 admonitions which he gave. And then 
 4* 
 
42 "OUR MINISTER." 
 
 these admonitions were often blessed of 
 God to the great comfort and edification of 
 the people, who thus found in their own 
 happy experience, the ineffable value of a 
 faithful pastor, whom they loved even when 
 he came to wound. 
 
 The children were then called in, and 
 were examined, as I have hinted, in the 
 catechism, in which they were regularly in- 
 structed by their parents. The doctrines 
 therein contained were then familiarly ex- 
 plained, and the young were most earnestly 
 persuaded to give their hearts to the Savior, 
 while yet in the morning of their days. As 
 the congregation was widely extended, it 
 was common for Mr. Rogers to give notice 
 on the sabbath, that during the week on a 
 certain day, he would visit in such a neigh- 
 borhood, and at three o'clock in the after- 
 noon he wished the families in that vicinity 
 to assemble at a house named, for religious 
 conversation and prayer. And those were 
 good meetings, you may be sure ; the 
 farmer's house in which it was held, would 
 
"our minister." 43 
 
 be filled with parents and children, the halls 
 and the stair-case crowded ; a litde stand, 
 with a bible and psalm-book, would be set 
 for the minister at some point from which 
 his voice could easily be heard over all the 
 house, and such prayers and such appeals 
 would be then and there made, as the spirit 
 of God delights to attend and bless. How 
 many tears did the children shed in those 
 meetings ; not alarmed by terrible words 
 of coming w:rath, but melted with the pathos 
 of gospel love, and moved by the strong 
 appeals of that holy man. Impressions, I 
 know, were made at those meetings, that 
 eternity will only brighten and deepen, as 
 the memory of those solemn, yet happy 
 hours, mingles with the joy of immortal 
 bliss. I mention those scenes, although I 
 can hardly expect that others will take any 
 interest in the record, hoping that some will 
 gather hints from these to go and do Hke- 
 wise, and because I love to linger among 
 recollections that are the sweetest and 
 strongest of life's early houis. 
 
44 "OUR MINISTER." 
 
 In speaking of Mr. Rogers's voice, I 
 touched incidentally upon his power as a 
 preacher. He was eminently an instructive 
 preacher. It was his aim to produce an 
 intellic-ent conviction in the minds of his 
 hearers of the truth of the great doctrines 
 of the gospel, to elucidate them w^ith so 
 much distinctness that they should readily 
 admit their force, and thus he would lay the 
 foundation for those overwhelming appeals 
 to duty that so marked his pulpit ministra- 
 tions. He was great on the doctrines. I 
 make his remark in this blunt way, that the 
 fact may stand out the more distinctly. He 
 thought the religious system of the Bible was 
 a system of great truths, having an intimate 
 relation to one another, and an inseparable 
 connexion with the character, and conse- 
 quently the destiny of men. Instead, there- 
 fore, of spending his time and strength in 
 exhibiting himself, or in amusing his people 
 with theories and speculations of his own, 
 instead of merely practical exhortations 
 which constitute so great a part of the preach- 
 
"OUR MINISTER 
 
 ,« 45 
 
 ing of many excellent and devoted men, he 
 labored to bring home to the minds and the 
 hearts of his people, those cardinal doctrines 
 of the gospel which lie at the root of all 
 true faith and holy living, and by a com-se of 
 regular and lucid expositions of the sacred 
 oracles, he led them to behold these doc- 
 trines shining with lustre and majestic 
 beauty on every page of revelation. And 
 when these strong truths were thus unfolded, 
 he would stand upon them as on a mount 
 of glory, and thence urge the claims of God 
 and the gospel with words of fervid heat 
 and strength, that melted the hearts on 
 which they fell, and mingled their saving 
 power in the mass thus dissolved in the 
 breasts of the assembly. The effects of this 
 ministry were, as might be expected, im- 
 mediate and permanent. The word of the 
 Lord had free course and was glorified. 
 The young grew up to manhood with strong 
 attachments to the faith of their fathers, the 
 members of the church were steadfast in 
 their adherence to the truth as they had re- 
 
46 "OTJR MINISTER." 
 
 ceived it, and it was rare to see a man in 
 the community who was not a professor of 
 religion. The institutions of the gospel 
 commanded the respect and reverence of 
 the whole people. Impiety was scarcely 
 known in the town, so deep-settled and 
 widespread was this regard for the truths of 
 God's word and the ordinances of his house. 
 
 Here I was on the point of speaking of 
 the great revivals of religion which followed 
 such a ministry, but they will demand more 
 space than I have now left. In a future 
 chapter, these may come before us with 
 some of that tender interest that now clusters 
 in the region of my heart, as memory runs 
 back to scenes when the Holy Spirit dis- 
 played his omnipotent grace, subduing sin- 
 ners and winning them to the feet of Jesus. 
 Precious revivals ! come back and dwell 
 with the church for ever. 
 
 Yet I have not half drawn this portrait 
 of Mr. Rogers, nor told one of a thousand 
 incidents that ought to be thrown in to con- 
 vey even a faint idea of the man, to those 
 
" OUR MINISTER." 47 
 
 who know nothing of him except what they 
 gather from these sketches. If there were 
 any traits of his symmetrical character that 
 ought to be brought out in bolder rehef on 
 this page than the rest, they were his fixed- 
 ness of imrpose in right, and his unterrlfied 
 moral courage. These features blend in 
 fine proportions in the life of every right 
 man, but they are worthy of distinct recog- 
 nition. It was our minister's great study 
 to learn what God would have him to do ; 
 in one word, what was right; for as he was 
 always doing something, he merely wished 
 to ascertain what was right, and he went 
 on to achieve it, as easily and naturally as 
 he would eat to appease his hunger, or rest 
 when he was weary. It was no objection 
 to any line of policy or the attempt of any 
 enterprise that the people would not like it, 
 or that the world would oppose it, nor even 
 that it would probably fail for the want of 
 support ; enough for him that it was a duty 
 to which he was called, and like Luther on 
 the way to Worms, or his Master on the way 
 to crucifixion, he marched steadily onward, 
 
48 "OUR MINISTER." 
 
 and if he did not succeed, he nevertheless 
 had his reward. Let a new sect seek to 
 propagate some pestilent heresy within the 
 bounds of his parish ; let a reformer, with 
 zeal and without knowledge come and at- 
 tempt to sow the seeds of revolution among 
 the people ; and then see with what calm 
 and holy boldness he would rouse to the 
 defence of the truth, and how error, affright- 
 ed, would flee away before his stern and 
 manly rebukes. Let vice, under some in- 
 sidious garb, begin to gain a foothold in the 
 congregation, among the young in their fol- 
 lies, or the old in their pursuits of gain, and 
 the " Old White Meetinghouse" was sure 
 to ring with righteous denunciations and 
 the threatened judgments of an alienated 
 God, before the people knew that the mis- 
 chief had reached the pastors ear. 
 
 And when the storm of opposition burst 
 upon him, as it did at last, and as we shall 
 see hereafter, he was calm and unshaken 
 like the rock at whose base the waves have 
 broken for centuries. True, he was finally 
 overthrown, but he fell as I have seen a 
 
"OUR MINISTER." 49 
 
 great oak which the river overflowing its 
 banks has dashed against without harm, but 
 anon the waters have subsided, and working 
 their way under the roots, have at last worn 
 away the soil, and the tree that an over- 
 flowing deluge could not move, has fallen 
 headlong by the silent and unseen influence 
 of an under-ground foe. 
 
 But I will not dwell longer on my old 
 pastor. I know I have not begun to give 
 him to you as he was, and as he still is in 
 my soul's recollections of years now gone. 
 But if I should prolong the sketch inter- 
 minably, I should probably get no nearer 
 the perfection of the portrait. You have 
 now an outline only, and as we mingle with 
 the congregation, and bring under review 
 the various sorts of men and women that 
 made it, and recount the many and wonder- 
 ful scenes through which they passed, you 
 will catch more of the tact and talent of 
 *' our minister" than I can convey by piling 
 ever so many words upon those already 
 written. 
 
 5 
 
50 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE PEOPLE — SCENES IN THE CHURCH — ELDER 
 BUTLER — MRS. BURTIS AND HER CHILD — ELDER 
 VAN SLATE — MRS. SNIFFLE. 
 
 And now, as faithful historians, come we 
 to the people of that congregation. Come 
 from your graves, old men and women of 
 my native parish ; come stand up before 
 me while I draw your portraits and write 
 your history ! But they come not. Of all 
 that were the men and women grown when 
 I was a boy, how few of them are there 
 now ! A few years ago I broke away from 
 the city, and made a flying visit to the old 
 town. I reached there on Saturday. No 
 one knew me. A friend — yes, one whom 
 I had grown up with from childhood, and 
 knew me as well as an own brother, nod- 
 ded to me as I passed, as they do to all 
 
THE PEOPLE. 51 
 
 Strangers in the country, but the smile of 
 recognition was wanting, and I felt truly a 
 stranger in a strange land. I stopped and 
 claimed his acquaintance without mention- 
 ing my name, and he looked steadily at me, 
 but declared he had never seen me before. 
 Alas ! what work time makes with us. I 
 look in the glass, but can see no change ; 
 and "why should others find it out ? Yet I 
 see it in them, and they in me. ^^Tempora 
 imitantur^'' &c. Times change, and we 
 change with them. We are hastening to 
 the great and last change. 
 
 On Sunday I went to church in the new 
 meetinghouse on the site of the old one , 
 and what a change was here ! The square 
 pews had yielded place to the modern cush- 
 ioned slips, the high pulpit overhung with 
 a threatening sounding-board, which I was 
 always afraid would one day fall and crush 
 poor Mr. Rogers when he preached so loud 
 as to make it and me shake, had been sup- 
 planted by a railed platform and desk. 
 But these were nothino; to the chano;e in 
 
52 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 the faces of the people. Those old famil- 
 iar faces ! Where were they ? I looked 
 here, and I looked there, and everywhere, 
 but I found them not, and shall not find 
 them, till the *' old marble" of the grave- 
 yard breaks at the sound of the last trump, 
 and the tomb resi£:ns its trust. Holy men ; 
 the salt of the earth ; men of faith and 
 prayer; men of God ! Some of you were 
 like Enoch, and no wonder that God took 
 you ; one was like Elijah, and went after 
 him ; and many of you were men of whom 
 the world was not worthy, and so earth lost 
 you that heaven might gain you ! Peace 
 to your ashes ! O that each of you had 
 left a son in your own image to perpetuate 
 your name and your virtues ! Good men 
 were always scarce, and will be scarcer now 
 that you are gone. 
 
 They were farmers mostly, those men 
 were. They wrought with their own hands 
 in the fields and the thrashing-floor, and 
 were independent men, if there ever 
 were independent men on the face of the 
 
THE PEOPLE. 53 
 
 earth. There was no river, or canal, oi 
 railroad, by which their produce could be 
 transported to market, and by which the 
 vices of the city could be transported to 
 them ; and thus were they saved from many 
 of the sources of corruption that blight the 
 villages which the march of improvement 
 has reached. Often we see a secluded 
 hamlet where purity and peace nestle as in 
 their native heaven, till the rage of the times 
 drives an iron pathway right through its 
 heart, a great tavern rises by its side, fash- 
 ion, folly, and vice, come along in the cars 
 and stop, and then farewell to the quietness 
 and virtue of that rural abode. Not so was 
 it with our town. When the harvest was 
 gathered and thrashed, the farmers loaded 
 up their wagons with the great bags, and 
 drove off thirty or forty miles to market, 
 and returned with some of the comforts, and 
 a few of the luxuries, of life ; the rest of 
 their wants being readily supplied from the 
 farm and the country store. Thus were 
 5* 
 
54 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 their days spent in the peaceful pursuit of 
 the most honorable and worthy calling to 
 which man was appointed. Fewer tempta- 
 tions, and more pleasures, cluster around 
 the path and home of the farmer, than of 
 any other man. He is not free from the 
 reach of sin or sorrow, it is very true, and 
 who is ? Adam was a farmer, and the for- 
 bidden tree stood in the middle of his gar- 
 den, and sin entered and made his paradise 
 a prison. But of all earthly callings, there 
 is none in which there is so much to lead 
 the soul to God, to take it away from the 
 vanities of the world, to train the mind for 
 communion with heaven, and prepare it for 
 unbroken intercourse with heavenly and 
 divine things, as in that of the farmer who 
 with his own hands tills the field, breaks up 
 the fallow ground, sows the seed, prays and 
 waits for the early and latter rain, watches 
 the springing of the grain, rejoices in the 
 ripening ear, gathers the sheaves in his 
 bosom, and with thankful heart fills his 
 storehouse and barn, and sits down content 
 
THE PEOPLE. 55 
 
 with the competent portion of good things 
 which have fallen to his lot. 
 
 But let us come back to our farmers. 
 They were men of principle and prayer. 
 I will give an instance of the power of prin- 
 ciple among them. Long, long before the 
 era of the present temperance reform, Mr. 
 Rogers, the minister, awoke to the evils re- 
 sulting from the use of ardent spirits, even 
 in an agricultural district like that in which 
 he lived. The farmers, in those days, were 
 wont to purchase their rum by the barrel, 
 and to drink it freely, not only without any 
 apprehensions of its ever doing them any 
 harm, but in the firm persuasion that they 
 could not do without it, and that it was one 
 of the blessings of Providence, of which 
 they should make a free use with thankful- 
 ness. But Mr. Rogers, with a longsighted- 
 ness for which he was remarkable, foresaw 
 the mischief the practice was begetting, and 
 determined to lift up a standard against it. 
 Accordingly, the "Old White Meeting- 
 house" thundered with an anti-drinking 
 
56 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 blast, in which the evils of the practice, in 
 all their moral, physical, and social bearings, 
 were set forth in words that fell like burn- 
 ing coals on the heart, and electrified the 
 congregation. The good people wondered 
 and meditated. There must be something 
 in it, or Mr. Rogers would not have brought 
 it home to them with such pungency and 
 power. They thought of it with earnest- 
 ness. Mr. Rogers visited some of the 
 largest farmers, and proposed to them to 
 try the experiment of "haying and harvest- 
 ing" one season without rum. It was such 
 a strange idea, that almost every one said 
 it would be impossible to find men to do 
 the work, and the crops would rot in the 
 field. But two or three of the best of them 
 were induced to try it. The result was 
 most happy. They gave the hired men the 
 usual cost of the rum as an advance upon 
 their wages ; they were perfectly satisfied. 
 The work was done in better time and in 
 better style, and the experiment was pro- 
 nounced on all hands, successful beyond 
 
THE PEOPLE. 57 
 
 controversy. The result was proclaimed 
 through the town. The next year it was 
 tried by several others, and soon it became 
 a general practice among the farmers of that 
 congregation, although the date of the tem- 
 perance reformation is some years this side 
 of that movement which was as decided and 
 important as any one instance of reform 
 which has ever since been made. Indeed, 
 I have now a sermon which this same Mr. 
 Rogers preached against the use of intoxi- 
 cating drinks, from the text, " Who hath 
 woes," &c., and which was delivered and 
 printed before I luas born, yet I can remem- 
 ber the opening of the modern temperance 
 reformation. 
 
 Yet there was very little intemperance 
 even prior to this period. There were a 
 few drunkards whose portraits I would add 
 to these sketches, but that they are very 
 much like unto modern drunkards ; and 
 their portraits are not very pleasant pictures. 
 There was not, however, one in that whole 
 town so given to the use of rum, as a man 
 
58 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 whose house I passed yesterday, and who 
 is now on his thirteenth hogshead of rum ; 
 he is seventy years of age, he buys his ruin 
 by the barrel, and drinks steadily, year in 
 and year out, and hopes to live to exhaust 
 some hogsheads more ! The generation 
 of such men, we trust in God, is rapidly 
 drawing to a close, and that they may leave 
 no successors to tread in their footsteps, we 
 will never cease to pray. 
 
 The firmness of principle which marked 
 some of these men, seems now incredible 
 when I observe the general degeneracy of 
 the times on which we have fallen. You 
 might as soon turn the sun from its course, 
 as to seduce from the path of virtue the 
 Roman Fabricius, or elder Joseph Butler, 
 of our cono:reo:ation. In business he was 
 true to the right, as the needle to the pole , 
 and when questions of doubtful propriety 
 were dividing the opinions of men, when 
 you had found where truth and righteous- 
 ness meet, there was Joseph, as calm, but 
 
SCENES IN THE CHURCH. 59 
 
 firm as a rock, or the angel Abdiel, " faith- 
 ful among the faithless." 
 
 He would do his duty, come what might. 
 Here he had learned much of Mr. Rogers, 
 but more of his Bible. When the enemy 
 came in, like a flood, or in the still small 
 current of seductive vice, Joseph Butler 
 was at his pastor's side, true as steel, holding 
 up his hands like Aaron or Hur, and there 
 he would have stood in the face of all the 
 Amalekites of the universe. Such elders 
 are rare now. One Sunday, there was a 
 family in church from the far city of New 
 York. They had come up there to visit 
 some country relations, and two or three 
 of these gay city girls burst out laughing in 
 the midst of the sermon. The cause was 
 this. The old aunt, whom they had come 
 to visit, had stopped in at one of the neigh- 
 bors on the way to church, and had borrowed 
 some little yellow cakes, called turwpikes, 
 and used I believe for some purpose or other 
 in baking bread. She had thrust them into 
 her work-bag, which she carried on her arm, 
 
GO SCENES IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 and during sermon having occasion to use 
 her handkerchief, she drew it forth suddenly, 
 and out flew the turnpikes, rolHng and 
 scampering over the floor. The city girls 
 tittered at this, as if it were very funny. 
 Their seat was on the side of the pulpit, so 
 that the pastor did not see them, or he 
 would have brought them to order by a 
 look, or a blow on the desk, which would 
 have sent the blood out of their cheeks, 
 thouofh their cheeks would have been red 
 after that. But Joseph Butler saw them, 
 and rising in his seat, struck with his psalm- 
 book on the top of the pew — the preacher 
 paused — the congregation sat dumb — the 
 good elder spoke, calmly but with energy, 
 '' Those young women will stop that laugliing 
 in the house of Godf'* they did stop ; the 
 pastor proceeded ; Joseph sat down, and 
 the city girls gave no occasion for the ex- 
 ercise of summary church discipUne, during 
 the remainder of their summer visit. The 
 old aunt was at first disposed to resent the 
 rebuke as an insult, and did complain to 
 
SCENES IN THE CHURCH. 61 
 
 Mr. Rogers, but she soon saw that the of- 
 fence deserved the punishment, and she 
 submitted. 
 
 I am a little fearful that the reader will 
 think these incidents were so common that 
 they were characteristic of our sabbath 
 services. Not so. They were " few and 
 far between," years rolling away unbroken 
 by a single circumstance to disturb the 
 profound solemnity, the almost monotony 
 of sacred worship, in those venerable walls. 
 The people always the same, the services 
 always the same, the preaching, the singing 
 almost always the same in style, there was 
 little variety ; and consequently, these in- 
 cidents occurring in the lapse of years, have 
 made the deeper impression on my mind, 
 and now start up with freshness and life 
 when I sit down to chronicle the past. 
 Thus another comes, and I must tell it, 
 whether or not in its proper place in the 
 chronicles of this country congregation. 
 
 There was among the people always at 
 church, an old man by the name of Riding. 
 6 
 
63 SCENES IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 He was not a pious man, and withal was 
 very hard of hearing, so that having neither 
 interest in the truth, nor the power to hear 
 it with ease, he went to meeting from force 
 of habit, took his seat with his back to the 
 minister, and quietly sinking into slumber, 
 slept steadily to the close of service. This 
 was his constant practice. There was also 
 a woman, Mrs. Burtis, whose mind was 
 slightly sprung, and whose nervous tem- 
 perament was specially excitable by scenes 
 of suffering, whether real or imaginary, 
 meeting her eye or her ear. Thus the 
 sight of a fellow-being in circumstances of 
 sudden and dreadful distress, would throw 
 the old lady into fits, when she would 
 scream so terrifically that it would have 
 been nothing; strano^e if all around her had 
 gone into fits to keep her company. She 
 sat in the same pew with old Mr. Riding, 
 and directly in front of him, looking up to 
 the minister. Mr. Rogers was describing 
 the destruction of Jerusalem as a wonder- 
 ful example of the fulfilment of prophecy. 
 
SCENES IN THE CHURCH. 63 
 
 He came to speak of the awful fact that 
 delicate women took their own children, 
 and killed them, and cooked them, and ate 
 them, so fearful was the power of ghastly 
 famine over all the strongest and hohest 
 impulses even of the mother's heart. He 
 had wrought up the description with great 
 skill and effect, and being excited with the 
 theme, he portrayed with great pathos and 
 power the scene where the Roman soldiers 
 burst into a house, attracted by the smell of 
 meat, and demanded it of the hands of the 
 trembling woman within. She goes to the 
 closet and brings forth upon a dish the frag- 
 ments of her half-eaten child, and places 
 it before the horror-stricken soldiers. Mrs. 
 Burtis had been listening with riveted ears 
 to the dreadful tale; the fire in her brain 
 had been gathering fierceness as the preach- 
 er proceeded, but when the dish with the 
 baked babe came out of the closet, she 
 could stand it no longer ; reason let go the 
 reins ; and springing from her seat, Mrs. 
 Burtis pounced upon old Mr. Riding, who 
 
64 SCENES IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 was sleeping in front of her, and with both 
 hands seizing his gray locks, she screamed 
 at the very top of her shrill voice, " Whereas 
 the woman thai killed my childV The old 
 man waked in amazement, but so utterly 
 confounded, that although his hair did not 
 stand on end, for the very good reason that 
 Mrs. Burtis held it down with her eagle 
 talons, yet his " voice clung to his jaws." 
 Not a word did he utter, but with meek- 
 ness worthy of the martyrs, he held his 
 peace until Joseph Butler and another elder 
 rose, and disentangling her fingers from 
 the hair, conducted her quietly from the 
 house, and the preacher went on with his 
 narrative. 
 
 This was the most exciting scene I ever 
 knew to transpire in that or any other church 
 in the ordinary course of things. Some 
 years afterward, I was travelling in the state 
 of Massachusetts; and spending the sabbath 
 in a country town, I attended church, where 
 an incident of not a little novelty occurred. 
 A farmer, who, I was afterward informed, 
 
ELDERS IN THE CHUKCH. 65 
 
 had a great fancy for driving spirited horses, 
 got asleep in the middle of the sermon, and 
 probably dreaming of his favorite pursuit, 
 and thinking that the horses were getting 
 avi^ay from him, started to his feet, and in 
 a stentorian voice cried, " Whoa!" The 
 effect was to bring the preacher to a dead 
 halt, but the effect upon the startled people 
 is not to be described. 
 
 I have mentioned the traits of one elder. 
 There was another, Warren Kirdand, a 
 man of faith and prayer, whose life was 
 the best of sermons, and who being dead, 
 yet speaks in the power of his memory, 
 which is cherished with reverence among 
 his posterity. He was not endowed with 
 more than ordinary powers of mind, but he 
 read his Bible much, and prayed much, 
 and conversed much with his minister, and 
 listened' with devout attention to the in- 
 structions of the sanctuary, so that he was 
 indeed an intelligent Christian, able to teach 
 by word, as well as by the power of a godly 
 life. If, as sometimes was the case, Mr. 
 6* 
 
66 ELDERS IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 Rogers was prevented from being with bis 
 people on the sabbath, it was customary to 
 read a sermon to the people. This was 
 usually done by a worthy lawyer, and then 
 Elder Kirtland was called on to pra}^ ; and 
 such was the respect which the sincere 
 and humble piety of that good man com- 
 manded, that I venture to say the prayers 
 of the minister were never more acceptable 
 to the people, or more efficacious in the ear 
 of Heaven. 
 
 The greatest funeral which was ever 
 Known in that town, was at the burial of 
 another of the elders, named after the father 
 of the faithful, and worthy to bear the name. 
 He was the friend of God ; a pillar in the 
 church, and worth a score of the half-dead 
 and half-live sort of Christians which abound 
 in our congregations — dead weights, some 
 of them, and others curses. At Abraham 
 Van Slate's funeral, there were miles of 
 wagons, filled with people from all parts of 
 the surrounding country, who had come to 
 testify their respect for one of the best of 
 
ELDERS IN THE CHURCH. 67 
 
 men. He was gathered to his fathers, but 
 he left a son bearing his name who was 
 chosen to bear also his office, and whose 
 wisdom and piety fitted him to sustain the 
 high trust he received with his ascending 
 father's mantle. Good men and true, were 
 those men, and there is a secret reverence 
 around my heart as I thus record their 
 virtues, which shows me how easy it is for 
 poor human nature, under the ignorance 
 and superstition of popery, to be led into 
 the false but natural notion of seeking the 
 prayers of departed saints. 
 
 These were leaders in the church. There 
 was as great a variety of character as is usual 
 in a country congregation, but I am not per- 
 mitted to fill the book with their history, or 
 the reader should hear more of them. I 
 wanted to tell of " Old Jack," a blind 
 negro, once a slave, now free, and the 
 Lord's freeman, one of the most remarkable 
 examples of the power of divine grace that 
 the world can show. He was small in 
 statute, old, hump-backed, blind, and black. 
 
68 MRS. SNIFFLE. 
 
 After such a description, true to the letter, 
 it will hardlv be credited that he was a use- 
 ful member of the church, qualified to lead 
 in prayer and to make a word of exhorta- 
 tion to the edification of others, and that his 
 gifts were often called into exercise in the 
 social meeting. His piety was deep and 
 fervent, and his faculties so shrewd and 
 strong, that his remarks were always pointed 
 and pertinent, and often displayed an inti- 
 mate knowledge of the human heart, and 
 such close conversation with God as few of 
 the most intelligent Christians enjoy. Many 
 of his sayings might here be recorded, or 
 his life and conversation might be written 
 out as a tract, to the glory of Him who 
 thus perfects his own praise out of the 
 mouths of the most humble and unlikely 
 instruments. 
 
 I wish you could see old Mrs. Sniffle, 
 the gossip of the congregation, in her rounds 
 of absorption, fastening herself upon every 
 one, to take in, like a sponge, whatever they 
 would impart, that she might have the sweet 
 
MRS. SNIFFLE. 69 
 
 satisfaction of leaking it to others. Her 
 harvest-time was at the close of the morning 
 service, when the most of the people re- 
 mained in their respective pews to eat their 
 dinner, which those from a distance brought 
 with them. This was the favorable moment 
 for Mrs. Sniffle's expedition, and darting 
 out of her own seat, she would drop in at 
 another, out with her snuff-box, pass it 
 round, and inquire the news. Staying just 
 long enough to extract the essence of all the 
 matters in her line to be met with there, she 
 would make all haste to the pew of some 
 one from another neighborhood, where she 
 would impart the information she had just 
 received with her own edifying comments, 
 pick up as many additional fragments of 
 facts as she could find, and pass on to an- 
 other pew, spending the whole of the inter- 
 val of divine worship in this avocation, and 
 the leisure of the week to come, in spread- 
 ing among her neighbors these items of 
 -news, especially such as come under the 
 head of scandal. It is only just to the peo- 
 
70 MRS. SNIFFLE. 
 
 pie, however, to add that Mrs. Sniffle was 
 a black sheep in the flock ; there was not 
 another like her, and we may well say, 
 happy is that people which is so well off as 
 to have only one Mrs. Sniffle. Of the good 
 people in our congregation, I have given but 
 examples of a whole class, while such char- 
 acters as Mrs. Sniffle were sinHe and alone. 
 
 o 
 
 Take them in mass, and they were a so- 
 ber, temperate, orderly, devout people ; de- 
 lighting in the ordinances of God's house, 
 and striving together to promote the glory 
 of the Savior. If you saw them standing 
 in groups around the door before the ser- 
 vice began on the sabbath-day, it was not 
 to trade horses or talk politics, as I have 
 known the practice to be in other places, 
 but more likely it was to speak of the state 
 of religion in their neighborhoods or their 
 hearts, though the young and thoughtless 
 doubtless found topics of conversation more 
 congenial to their unsanctified tastes. And 
 then there was a set that always went over 
 to a litde red tavern across the green, where 
 
MRS. DOUBLEBY. 71 
 
 old Mr. and Mrs. Doubleby lived ; and what 
 they said and did when they got there, I 
 will not undertake to say. 1 wish you could 
 see old Mrs. Doubleby standing in the front 
 door, with her hands folded under her 
 checked apron, and her spectacles on her 
 forehead, chatting with everybody that 
 passed, or scolding the boys who loved to 
 stone her geese and sheep which she pas- 
 tured on the green or in the graveyard. 
 She was a character ; but her virtues, if any, 
 and faults, if many, will be alike unknown 
 to future generations, for her only chance 
 of immortality in history is while I am wri- 
 ting this paragraph, and this is done. 
 
 And so must this part of this record be 
 brought to a close, even in its very opening. 
 How many of that people would I love to 
 mention, for now they come thickening 
 around me, and I see their faces as if thirty 
 years ago were only yesterday ! 
 
 " Oft in the stilly night, 
 
 Ere slumber's chain hath bound me, 
 Fond memory brings the light 
 Of other days around me." 
 
72 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 vAnd now in this still nightj the thoughts 
 of those friends of my youth come back 
 with such sweetness, that I fear to drop the 
 pen, lest the illusion should cease and the 
 vision vanish. 
 
 'Guides of my life ! instrnctors of my youth! 
 Who first unveiled the hallowed form of Truth ; 
 Whose every word enlightened and endeared ; 
 In age heloved, in poverty revered ; 
 In friendship's silent register ye live, 
 Nor ask the vain memorial Art can give." 
 
 But I must stop, for the chapter gains 
 upon me every moment that I write : as 
 the same poet saith whose sweet words we 
 have just recited : — 
 
 " Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, 
 Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain. 
 Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads rise ! 
 Each stamps its image as the other flies !" 
 
OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 73 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OUR SINGING-SCHOOL — THE BRIDGE WAR — DAN- 
 CING-SCHOOLS. 
 
 Why is it that the choir of a country 
 congregation is always, or often, the source 
 of discord ? Every one who knows the 
 internal polity of these societies, has met 
 with the singular fact that the singing is the 
 most difficult subject to be managed with 
 harmony, yet a matter that, one would think, 
 should never make any trouble, much less 
 be a cause of quarrels and divisions. Yet 
 true it is, and in making these records I 
 must introduce the reader to our singing- 
 schools, and let him into some secrets 
 which may be both entertaining and profita- 
 ble. You will therefore understand that 
 the singing had become about as bad as it 
 could be and retain the name. Deacon 
 
 7 
 
74 OUR SINGING-SCHOOL. 
 
 Small — a very large man, who could sing 
 nothing but base, and that very badly — had 
 sung tenor and led the singing for ten years, 
 until forbearance ceased to be a virtue, and 
 some of the congregation, whose nerves 
 were not made of steel wire, began seriously 
 to talk of doing something to improve the 
 music. The deacon said that for his part 
 he should be glad to do anything reasonable, 
 and he had sometimes thought the singing 
 would be better if the young folks would 
 come together once a month or so, and 
 practise the tunes with him ; he would give 
 his time for nothing, and perhaps something 
 might be done. 
 
 But this was not the thing. The deacon's 
 singing was as bad as the choir's, in fact 
 worse ; for what he lacked in skill and taste 
 he made up in volume ; and his voice, in 
 a part for which it had no fitness, would 
 swell above all the rest so as to make such 
 dire music as no gentle ears could endure 
 without grievous pain, causing strong tempta- 
 tions to feel wrong even in church. When 
 
OUR SINGING-SCHOOL. 75 
 
 therefore the reformers heard that Deacon 
 Small proposed to drill the choir into har- 
 mony, they thought of hanging up their own 
 harps ; for the deacon's instructions could 
 manifestly avail nothing but to make bad 
 worse. They therefore held another con- 
 sultation, and determined to submit the 
 matter to the congregation, in full meeting, 
 and make a desperate effort to bring about 
 a change. 
 
 Accordingly, when the people assembled 
 for the annual " letting of the pews," the 
 matter was introduced with great caution, 
 and it was proposed, after much discussion, 
 to send to Connecticut (where else should 
 they send?) for a singing-master. Deacon 
 Small was roused. He could see no ne- 
 cessity for such a sudden and expensive 
 measure ; he knew as much about singing 
 as any of them, though he said it himself, 
 and he hiew that they had as good singing 
 as they could expect, and if they wanted 
 any better they mustn't go off to hire any^ 
 body to come there and teach them a new 
 
76 OUR SINGING-SCHOOL. 
 
 set of tunes, to go away when they were 
 about half learnt and carry all the singing 
 away with him. But the reformers carried 
 the day, and next sabbath, the choir, taking 
 in dudgeon what they chose to consider an 
 affront put upon them and their leader, took 
 their seats in the body of the church below, 
 leaving the front seats of the gallery empty. 
 The pastor saw at a glance the state of 
 things when he went into the pulpit, and 
 beckoning to one of the elders who was a 
 good singer, and always led on communion 
 occasions, to come up to him, he made the 
 necessary arrangements, and as soon as the 
 morning psalm was announced, the worthy 
 elder rose in his place, and " pitching the 
 tune," led off Old Hundred, to the edifica- 
 tion of the congregation and the discom- 
 fiture of Deacon Small, who thought there 
 could be no singing unless he took the lead. 
 By a vote of the congregation a commit- 
 tee was appointed to obtain a singing-master 
 to teach one quarter, for which he was to 
 receive a hundred dollars, and all were at 
 
OUR SINGING-SCHOOL. TV 
 
 liberty to attend. The committee heard 
 of a teacher and hired him. He came. 
 His name was Bridge ; and he very soon 
 afforded fresh proof of the saying of the 
 knowing old ladies of the place, that " a 
 good singing-master is good for nothing 
 else." He was a good singer but a great 
 fop, and a low, ill-bred, but cunning fellow, 
 who soon ingratiated himself into the favor 
 of one part of the congregation and disgusted 
 the rest. The school, however, was vastly 
 popular, especially among the young people, 
 who were fond of coming together twice a 
 week and spending the evening sociably. 
 Bridge always gave a long intermission, 
 which was the occasion for all manner of 
 fun among the young people ; and then by 
 coming early, and staying after school was 
 out, they managed to make the entertain- 
 ment quite as diverting as a dance, which 
 latter amusement was rarely allowed among 
 the sons and daughters of that church. But 
 before the quarter was out, the singing-mas- 
 ter was detected in some peccadilloes that 
 7* 
 
78 THE BRIDGE WAR. 
 
 rendered his admission necessary in the 
 estimation of the more discreet of the con- 
 gregation. The communication of this de- 
 cision to the school was the signal for an 
 explosion. A part, perhaps a majority, 
 acquiesced in the decision and sustained 
 the committee, but others resented it and 
 resisted, declaring that he should stay, and 
 they would hire him for another quarter. 
 The parties were now pitted against each 
 other, and for a long time the contention 
 raged with a fierceness that threatened the 
 unity of the church. The pastor, of course, 
 took ground against the teacher, for his 
 moral unfitness to lead the worship of re- 
 ligious people was apparent, and this decided 
 stand of the pastor brought down upon his 
 head the wrath of all the Bridge men, who 
 did not scruple to say that they would keep 
 Bridge even if they lost their minister. 
 
 The Bridge party circulated a subscription 
 paper, and had no difficulty in raising the 
 money to hire the teacher for another quar- 
 ter, for when men get mad they are always 
 
THE BRIDGE WAR. 79 
 
 willing to pay to have their own way. 
 The elders refused to have him in the choir 
 on the sabbath-dav, and so the strang-e and 
 disgraceful spectacle was presented of part 
 of a Christian congregation employing a 
 man to instruct them in the worship of God, 
 while the officers of the church very proper- 
 ly refused him a place in the service. And 
 this wicked war was prolonged until the 
 second quarter of the teacher expired, when 
 he and his friends resolved to have a great 
 musical festival, to wind off with due honor 
 the controversy in which they flattered them- 
 selves they had been victorious. They 
 wished to have an address on the occasion, 
 and applied to the pastor to deliver it. He 
 answered that he would not speak if Bridge 
 was to lead the singing, but would cheer- 
 fully give them an address if some one 
 else were selected to take the place of a 
 man whom he regarded as utterly unfit to 
 conduct the devotions of God's people. 
 The answer was far from being satisfactory. 
 Bridge must sing, as the festival was de- 
 
80 THE BRIDGE WAR. 
 
 signed for his glory. So the party cast 
 about to find a speaker for the great occa- 
 sion, and were at length successful in ob- 
 taining one in the person of a noted pulpit 
 orator in a distant city, deposed from the 
 ministry, who was glad to make his way 
 into another congregation where he knew 
 he could never speak on the invitation of 
 the pastor. This irregular and disgraceful 
 act of the Bridge party closed the campaign. 
 The last performance was condemned by 
 the people, and the second engagement 
 having run out. Bridge departed, to find 
 employment elsewhere, the party that had 
 supported him became ashamed of their 
 own conduct, gradually return to their re- 
 spective duties, said as little as possible 
 about their late rebellion, and submitted 
 themselves in silence to the constituted 
 authorities. 
 
 But it was not until after many years 
 that the wounds which this afTair had made, 
 were healed. The feelings of one part of 
 the people were alienated from the other ; 
 
THE BRIDGE WAR. 81 
 
 the more serious and substantial of the con- 
 gregation had opposed the Bridge party, 
 which was composed of the younger and 
 lighter portion ; the pastor had been so 
 deeply involved in the struggle that his 
 preaching was not received with so much 
 affection and tenderness by those from whom 
 he had differed ; and it may be that the 
 word of God was not accompanied with 
 that spirit of prayer, without which it can 
 never be effectual, and the day of final ac- 
 count can alone disclose the extent of the 
 mischief wrought by those men who de- 
 termined to put in peril the peace of the 
 church for the sake of carrying their own 
 points. 
 
 I have been so particular in stating the 
 facts in this transaction that it may serve as a 
 warning to other churches ; for great is the 
 responsibility incurred by that man who 
 puts himself in the way of the peaceful 
 progress of the gospel. The Holy Spirit 
 never lingers amojig a people after strife has 
 begun, and who will answer for the guilt of 
 
83 THE BRIDGE WAE. 
 
 grieving away the Messenger of Heaven's 
 saving grace ? 
 
 And now that the root of bitterness was 
 cast out, the good pastor addressed himself 
 with all diligence to repair the breaches that 
 had been made. He brought the mighty 
 power of divine truth to bear upon the con- 
 sciences of the congregation, and with his 
 characteristic fidelity, tenderness, and skill, 
 he plied them with those considerations 
 which, in the course of time and under the 
 blessing of God, resulted in the restoration 
 of peace. Some of the most reasonable and 
 pious of the Bridge party were frank enough 
 to go to him and confess their error, and to 
 express their strong sense of admiration of 
 his firm and Christian deportment during 
 the whole affair ; but others quieted their 
 consciences by treating their minister w'ith a 
 little extra attention, while they saved their 
 pride from the manliness of an apology, 
 when they knew they were wrong. But 
 the singing : that was no better, but worse 
 rather. Those on whom reliance had long 
 
SACRED MUSIC. 83 
 
 been placed as permanent singers, were 
 disgusted and driven from the gallery ; a 
 set of tunes unknown to the people was in- 
 troduced ; the new choir were unable to 
 sing without their leader — they soon scat- 
 tered ; Deacon Small returned to his post 
 and rallied a few of the old singers, and 
 for a time "Dundee," and "Mear," and 
 "Wells," with one or two other tunes of 
 equal claim to antiquity, were performed 
 upon the return of each sabbath, with a 
 regularity and uniformity worthy of striking 
 commendation. 
 
 This state of things lasted until it could 
 be borne no longer. And I make this re- 
 mark seriously. It is intolerable that God 
 should be mocked with such praise as is 
 offered to him in some of our churches. 
 Not to say anything of it as a matter of taste, 
 to gratify the ear of man, and exalt the af- 
 fections of the worshipper, there is another 
 light in which it should be viewed, and a 
 light in which it is very seldom viewed by 
 our churches. I refer to the great truth, 
 
84 SACRED MUSIC. 
 
 that God deserves better praise than he gets 
 in those temples where little or no attention 
 is paid to the culture of sacred music. If 
 that consideration were imprinted on the 
 hearts of Christians, they would from prin- 
 ciple spend time and money in qualifying 
 themselves and others to sustain this part 
 of public w^orship with " spirit and under- 
 standing also." 
 
 A short time since I was in Boston, and 
 on sabbath morning went to the church 
 where Lowell Mason leads the singing, with 
 a choir that has long enjoyed the Instruc- 
 tions of that eminent and able master. I 
 did not know that he was the leader, and 
 was not prepared to expect anything more 
 than the ordinary singing of a church in 
 that refined city. But those words, 
 
 " Welcome, sweet day of rest, 
 That saw the Lord arise," 
 
 came over my soul as if the morning stars 
 were singing their Maker's praise with the 
 opening of another sabbath ; and as the 
 hymn, sweet in its own melody, but sweet- 
 
SACRED MUSIC. 85 
 
 er in the melody which rich music lent it, 
 swelled on my ear, I was carried away by 
 the power of the praise, now rapt into a 
 glow of ecstatic feeling, now subdued by the 
 melting tones that fell softly and sweetly 
 on my responding heart. Yet did I not 
 think of the singers, or the leader, or the 
 great organ whose deep base rolled through 
 the temple. I forgot all these, and felt 
 only that we were praising God, in the 
 beauty of his sabbath and sanctuary, and 
 that He who delights in a pure sacrifice, was 
 receiving a warm tribute of praise from that 
 worshipping people. 
 
 " My willing soul would stay 
 In such a frame as this, 
 And sit and sing herself away 
 To everlasting bliss." 
 
 Now it is very true that all congregations 
 can not have Lowell Mason or Thomas 
 Hastings to teach them to sing, nor is it 
 needful in order that the music may be 
 such as shall be pleasing to God and edify- 
 ing to the people. It requires no sacrifice. 
 The practice essential to success in this 
 
 8 
 
86 SACRED MUSIC. 
 
 delightful art, is itself a source of elevated 
 and rational pleasure to those engaged in it, 
 especially to the young, and when the sci- 
 ence has been cultivated until skill is at- 
 tained, there is scarcely anything that con- 
 tributes more to the harmony and happiness 
 of the social circle than this. And if our 
 country churches would regard this depart- 
 ment of public worship as an offering to 
 God, who is not willing to be served with 
 that which costs nothing, but who loves to 
 lend his ear to the music of his children 
 when they sing as they ought, it seems to 
 me that there would be a wonderful change 
 in the style of music. In every church 
 there would be an association of those who 
 have musical taste and talent, and they 
 would labor diligently to elevate the stand- 
 ard of public sentiment on this subject, and 
 of their success there could be no doubt. 
 Pastors have failed of their duty in this 
 matter ; for if the pulpit had been faithful 
 in exhibiting the claims of this part of di- 
 vine worship upon the conscience of the 
 
SACRED MUSIC. 87 
 
 people, there can be no reason to suppose 
 that it would be looked upon with that in- 
 difference with which most of our churches 
 regard it. But I must come back from this 
 digression. 
 
 Our old congregation having become 
 thoroughly satisfied that the singing must 
 be improved, and placed on a basis of pro- 
 gressive advancement, sought and found 
 another teacher, w^ho, at the general desire 
 of the people, came to establish a school 
 and lead the singing on the sabbath-day. 
 This time, Deacon Small and all agreed to 
 the proposition. The young people, and 
 some of the older ones, attended a school 
 one evening every week for several months ; 
 the old standard tunes, as Old Hundred, 
 St. Thomas, Tamworth, Silverstreet, &c., 
 were practised over and over again, till the 
 whole "rising generation" could sing them 
 with propriety ; a few new tunes were 
 learned, and learned well, and when the 
 teacher went away there were several in the 
 school who were well qualified to take the 
 
88 SACRED MUSIC. 
 
 lead. The selection was made by the 
 school, who voted by ballot ; the elders 
 confirmed the nomination, and, after that, 
 everything went on smoothly. Deacon 
 Small was considerably mortified that no- 
 body voted for him as chorister, but he kept 
 his mortification to himself, and each suc- 
 ceeding winter a school was opened for the 
 instruction of the young in sacred music, 
 and no difficulty was afterward heard of on 
 that head. But there is reason for the 
 question propounded at the opening of this 
 record, " Why is the choir so often the 
 source of discord in the church ?" I have 
 heard it said that singers are naturally ner- 
 vous, sensitive people, or (to go a little far- 
 ther into the philosophy of the thing), that 
 the mental and physical organization of 
 those who have the faculties essential to a 
 good singer is so delicate that this class of 
 the human race is more easily discomposed 
 by trifles than any other. But without 
 speculating upon the hidden cause, the fact 
 is well known that trouble from this quarter 
 
SACRED MUSIC. 89 
 
 often comes — trouble that the influence of 
 the pastor and the wisdom of the officers are 
 sometimes powerless to remove or relieve. 
 Frequently have I seen old established con- 
 gregations shaken to their very centre by 
 these musical feuds, when the matter in con- 
 troversy was so unimportant, the ground of 
 offence so puerile, that it can be reconciled 
 neither with religion nor common sense. 
 Perhaps some one of the singers has heard 
 somebody say that some one else said that 
 the singing was not as good as it used to be. 
 This remark, perhaps made inadvertently, 
 is repeated and magnified ; the choir hear 
 of it and refuse to sing. Sometimes an un- 
 popular individual takes a seat in the choir, 
 and the rest resolve to quit the seats unless 
 the unwelcome guest withdraws, and he 
 determines to stay if he stays alone, and so 
 they leave him in full possession. But the 
 most of these troubles grow out of the em- 
 ployment of unsuitable men as leaders of 
 singing in our churches. I have known 
 men of notoriously immoral lives to be ap- 
 8* 
 
90 SACRED MUSIC. 
 
 pointed to this responsible office, and then 
 most righteously would the sober and dis- 
 creet members of the church rise in oppo- 
 sition and refuse to be led in their hymns 
 of praise by a man of profane lips. Here 
 is no place to argue the question whether 
 an unconverted person should ever be al- 
 lowed to lead the singing in the house of 
 God, though I can not avoid entering a dis- 
 sent to that doctrine sometimes advocated, 
 that because you would not call on a man 
 of the world to pray in public, so you should 
 not invite or allow him to sing God's praise 
 in public. There is a natural distinction in 
 the two cases which can scarcely be made 
 plainer by illustration. But it ought to be 
 borne in mind by all parties, in every con- 
 gregation, that the singing is a part of divine 
 worship, the regulation of which belongs 
 exclusively to the church, or the spiritual 
 officers of the church, and while the author- 
 ity to order it is in their hands, it is not to 
 be expected that any man of corrupt life 
 will be allowed to take the lead. 
 
SACRED MUSIC. 91 
 
 And if on them rests the responsibihty 
 of excluding from the orchestra those whom 
 they regard as unfit to be there, most em- 
 phatically does it devolve on them to take 
 measures so to train the voices of the peo- 
 ple that with every sabbath's services there 
 may go up to God acceptable praise in the 
 courts of his house. 
 
 Rather than suffer the evils which so fre- 
 quently arise from the system of " choirs," 
 I would greatly prefer the good old-fash- 
 ioned way of having a leader or presenter, 
 who shall stand in the face of the congre- 
 gation and lead the praises of the people. 
 This plan, which still prevails in a few 
 churches in our country, and in many of the 
 churches in " the old country," secures 
 several important ends. It leads the whole 
 people to feel that they are to unite in the 
 public song ; that singing is an act of divine 
 worship in which each of them is expected 
 to bear a part ; that they must qualify them- 
 selves and their children to perform this 
 duty acceptably, and therefore they must 
 
92 SACRED MUSIC. 
 
 all learn to sinor. There is somethinor de- 
 lightful in the sight and the sound of a whole 
 congregation lifting up tlieir voices in uni- 
 son and harmony in the praise of their God 
 and King, and sweeter far to my ear, and 
 sw^eeter far, it seems to me, must it be to 
 Him who listens in heaven, to hear the 
 warm, full hymn from the great congrega- 
 tion, than the most finished and exquisite 
 performance of a worldly choir, if the heart 
 is not there. 
 
 I perceive that this chapter has taken the 
 form of an essay on church music, rather 
 than of ancient history, as I proposed. But 
 the subject suddenly took this turn, and has 
 run to this point, where I must leave it. 
 And I would not leave the reader with the 
 impression that such troubles as I have de- 
 scribed w^ere common in our old congrega- 
 tion. The farthest from it possible. Years 
 would roll by and not an event of a troub- 
 lous kind would occur to make one year 
 memorable rather than another, and to show 
 how rare tvere such occurrences as those 
 
DANCING-SCHOOL. 93 
 
 which laid the foundations of this chapter, 
 I may say that these events transpired when 
 I was so young as to know nothing of what 
 was going on, but they were talked about 
 for many years after, and I have written 
 the history according to tradition and not 
 from memory. People would often speak 
 of the Bridge excitement very much as we 
 speak of the Shay's rebellion, or the revolu- 
 tion — something that happened once, but 
 never to be expected again. Probably few 
 churches could be found in the length and 
 breadth of the land where there was more 
 peace and less contention than in ours, dur- 
 ing the ministry of Mr. Rogers. 
 
 Dancing-School. — Do you suppose, 
 indulgent reader, that they had dancing- 
 schools within the limits of that congrega- 
 tion ? I am at a loss for an answer to my 
 own question, for if I have not mentioned 
 before I should now remark that there were 
 other congregations intermingled with ours, 
 so that a large part of the population was 
 under other influences, and there were 
 
94 DANCING-SCHOOL. 
 
 families also that belonged to no church, 
 for whose views and practices no one could 
 answer, and when these facts are remem- 
 bered it will not seem so strano;e that now 
 and then the young folks were foolish enough 
 to get up a dancing-school in the winter. 
 Mr. Rogers was not in the habit of de- 
 nouncing the amusement of dancing as 
 sinful in itself, or of threatening church 
 discipline if any of the members indulged 
 in it. But he frequently alluded to it among 
 other follies of youth, as an amusement un- 
 suited to persons of sense, an idle waste of 
 time, and leading to evils many and serious. 
 In this way he was able to repress the desire 
 for a dancing-school among the most of the 
 young, and the more intelligent and pious 
 of the church discountenanced and forbade 
 it in their families. Once in a great while 
 when the young folks went off for a sleigh- 
 ride, or assembled for an evening tea-party, 
 they would wind up with a dance, and 
 sometimes a " ball" would be had at the 
 tavern in front of the Old White Meeting- 
 
DANCING-SCHOOL. 95 
 
 house, but in these cases the leaders were 
 usually young men from the neighboring 
 villages, who had a sort of acknowledged 
 right to set the fashions, and our boys and 
 girls w'ere not slow to follow. 
 
 One winter some of the youngsters de- 
 termined to have a regular dancing-school 
 at the tavern just named, and after a great 
 deal of management they succeeded in 
 getting enough to agree to attend. The 
 school was kept up through the winter, and 
 toward spring they were to have a " public," 
 or a grand finale to their winter perform- 
 ances. Invitations were sent to all the vil- 
 lages within twenty miles, for the fashion- 
 ables to attend, and every arrangement was 
 made for one of the most splendid displays 
 which that old quiet town had ever witness- 
 ed. No expense was spared to adorn the 
 room, and many of our young ladies, by 
 dint of coaxing and crying, had obtained, 
 for the first time in their lives, permission 
 to attend a ball. Close by the tavern and 
 in full view of the ball-room window, lived 
 *9 
 
96 DANCING-SCHOOL. 
 
 one of the young ladies who had in the 
 early part of the winter been a member of 
 the dancing-school, but who had been taken 
 sick, and as the time for the ball drew nigh 
 she was evidently drawing nigh to death. 
 She died on the morning of the very day 
 on which the ball was to come off in the 
 evening. The news of her death fled rapid- 
 ly over the town, and the most active of the 
 getters-up of the performance were in doubt 
 as to what course it would be necessary to 
 take. One of the manas^ers was said to be 
 betrothed to the young lady, a member of 
 the school, now a corpse in sight of the 
 windows. What should they do ? The 
 managers met in the afternoon and held a 
 consultation. The betrothed was not there, 
 but he sent word that there would be a 
 manifest propriety in postponing the amuse- 
 ments of the evening. But the rest demur- 
 red. Everything is now ready, all the ex- 
 pense is incurred and will be doubled if 
 they defer ; the company will assemble ; 
 and so it was decided to go on. They did. 
 
DANCING-SCHOOL. 97 
 
 The young ladies came together, but before 
 the dancing began, one of them was look- 
 ing out of the window and saw a dim light 
 over in the chamber of death, where watchers 
 were sitting by the corpse of one who had 
 hoped to be on the floor with them. A 
 chill came over the young lady as she was 
 looking out ; she mentioned to one near 
 her what she had seen, and how it made 
 her feel; the sadness spread over the group 
 in that corner, and one began to complain 
 of sickness and to make an excuse for going 
 home, and then another, till all whose con- 
 sciences were any way tender, had fled from 
 the hall of mirth. But there were many 
 left. " On went the dance." And though 
 death was at hand, and one of their number 
 was in his arms, they danced till morning. 
 This was the last dancing-school, and the 
 last ball for many, many years, in that place. 
 The next sabbath Mr. Rogers gave them 
 a discourse on the subject with special refer- 
 ence to the events of the past week. It 
 was the funeral sermon of Mary L eland ; 
 
 9 
 
98 DANCING-SCHOOL. 
 
 and did not the hearts of those youth thrill 
 when he drew the contrast between the 
 chamber of death and the ball-room, the 
 grave-clothes and the ball-dress, the mourn- 
 ers and the revellers ? And when he drew 
 from that striking providence a lesson on 
 the vanity of earthly pleasures, and besought 
 the young of his flock to turn away from 
 the follies of time and become wise for 
 everlasting life, you might have seen the 
 young men hanging their heads in shame, 
 while the young ladies, all over the house, 
 were weeping with grief that asked no con- 
 
OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS — THE BALL — THE 
 HORSERACE. 
 
 I VERY much fear, that in making a chap- 
 ter on our Old-Fashioned Revivals, 
 I shall say something that may be construed 
 into reflections upon those who do not man- 
 age things as they did when I was young. 
 But I disavow all such intentions. I mean 
 to say nothing for or against old measures, 
 or new measures or any measures, but as a 
 faithful and impartial historian, recording 
 the times and scenes through which I have 
 passed, it will be simply a matter of duty 
 to put down my recollections of those days 
 when the Holy Ghost descended with pow- 
 er, and much people were added unto the 
 Lord. 
 
 One of the most solemn meetings that I 
 
100 OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 
 
 have attended in the course of my life, was 
 at the house of Elder Warren Kirtland, 
 when I was about ten years old. I was 
 younger than that, rather than older, and 
 now am older than I would like to say, but 
 I remember that meeting, the men that 
 prayed, what they prayed for, Jiow I felt, 
 and how the tones of their voices fell on my 
 young heart, like the voice of the living 
 God. It was a meeting of the pastor, the 
 elders, and all their families, with those 
 parents and children that lived near the 
 house of the elder in which they met. The 
 house was crowded, and the stairs that went 
 up in the hall were covered with children. 
 I was in the number. It seemed that Mr. 
 Rogers, the pastor, had observed that through 
 all the families of the elders, embracing a 
 great number of children, not one was a 
 professor of religion ! The fact was a pain- 
 ful one, and the good man was alarmed. 
 He laid the truth before the elders, and 
 they were deeply moved. They prayed 
 over it, and after serious deliberation, re- 
 
OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 101 
 
 solved to assemble all their children, and 
 commend them unitedly and affectionately 
 to Him who had promised to be a God to 
 them and to theirs. 
 
 The meeting was held as I have said. 
 And when Mr. Rogers stated the solemn 
 fact that had called them together, there 
 was a stillness like death over the house, 
 and as he went on to speak of the prospect 
 before the church when the young were 
 thus growing up in sin, and the prospect 
 before the young when they were thus har- 
 dening their hearts under rehgious instruc- 
 tion and in the midst of the gospel, you 
 might hear a deep sigh from the hearts of 
 the fathers, and see the tears on the cheeks 
 of the mothers, and soon the children 
 caught the impression of the hour and sob- 
 bed in the grief of their souls, at the thought 
 of coming judgment and no preparation to 
 meet an offended judge ! ! The pastor 
 prayed, and one after another of those el- 
 ders, mighty men in prayer they were, went 
 down on their knees, and with earnestness 
 9* 
 
102 OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 
 
 that would take no denial, and with such 
 strong crying and tears as parents only know 
 when pleading for their perishing offspring, 
 they besought the Lord to have mercy on 
 them and save them by his grace. And 
 then they sung psalms, Elder Tompkins 
 leading, and such of the company joining 
 as could command their voices in the midst 
 of the deep emotion that was now pervading 
 all hearts. I know the Holy Spirit was 
 there that day. I felt his convicting power. 
 I feel the force of the impressions then made, 
 this moment. It was not then that 1 was led 
 to the Savior. But afterward when the al- 
 lurements of a gay world were around me, 
 and a thousand influences combined to draw 
 me down to ruin, the impressions of that 
 meeting, and such meetings, were like hooks 
 of steel to hold me out of hell. God be 
 praised that I was there, and I hope to 
 praise him for the privilege when I meet 
 those elders with the other elders around 
 the throne. There were many children 
 present older than myself, and they, too, 
 
OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 103 
 
 were much affected by the exercises. I 
 recollect that we were out of doors at the 
 intermission (for we met at eleven o'clock 
 in the morning, and with an interval of 
 half an hour remained until three P. M.), 
 and then we had an opportunity to talk the 
 matter over together. We were all solemn ; 
 not one was disposed to play or to make 
 fun of any kind, but we said to one another 
 in our own way, that we meant to try and 
 be good. Some of the girls got together 
 in one of the bedrooms up stairs, and had 
 a litde prayer-meeting by themselves during 
 the intermission ; and all went from that 
 place, that day, with serious minds, and 
 some were pricked to the heart. 
 
 Another meeting of the same character 
 was held the next week in the house of an 
 elder in another part of the congregation, 
 and so they were continued from house to 
 house for three months. And God heard 
 the prayers of his people. Three of the 
 children of Joseph Butler were converted 
 immediately, and are living now, to bless 
 
104 OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 
 
 God for those meetings ; and three children 
 of another elder were also converted, and 
 some of the others, and the good work ex- 
 tended beyond the families of the elders 
 into the congregation, and many precious 
 souls were brought into the fold of Christ. 
 
 But I am perhaps running too fast. I 
 would like to go back to one great revival 
 that pervaded the congregation, biinging 
 the whole town under its influence, and from 
 the commencement, progress, and fruits of 
 it, show^ w^hat old-fashioned revivals were, 
 and what revivals the churches need now. 
 May God send them often, and mighty 
 ones, till the day of final consummation ! 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Rogers had been long 
 lamenting the apparent withdrawal of the 
 Holy Spirit from the church. His ministry 
 did not seem to be blessed to the conviction 
 and conversion of sinners, and his hands 
 began to hang down in discouragement. 
 Perhaps his own soul had partaken of the 
 general apathy, and his preaching had been 
 less pungent, his prayers less fervent and 
 
OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 105 
 
 faithful, and his anxieties had subsided. 
 As the hands of Moses sunk unless they 
 were held up by Aaron and Hur, so did 
 INIr. Rogers's. About this time he was 
 called to attend a great ecclesiastical meet- 
 ing in a distant part of the country. He 
 was necessarily absent several weeks. Dur- 
 ing his absence the people met regularly on 
 the sabbath-day to hear a sermon w4iich 
 was read by one of their own number, and 
 to pray for themselves and their beloved 
 pastor far away. They did not run to 
 other churches to hear other ministers, but 
 hovered around their own altar, and enjoy- 
 ed themselves there^ far more than in strange 
 temples. This gives a hint worth remem- 
 bering. Mr. Rogers was also benefited by 
 his intercourse with ministerial brethren 
 whom he met at the assembly from all parts 
 of the country. Twenty-five years ago our 
 ecclesiastical assemblies were more siiiritual 
 than they are now ; they were less divided 
 by the introduction of exciting party ques- 
 tions, and ministers came together as so 
 
106 OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 
 
 many brothers of one family, running into 
 one another's arms after a long separation. 
 We sometimes had such meetings on a 
 small scale up in the old congregation ; 
 the ministers from neic:hborino; churches 
 would assemble to transact church business ; 
 and it was all done with such a spirit of 
 harmony and brotherly love, and so much 
 time would be spent in preaching and pray- 
 ing, that a hallowed influence always was 
 exerted by them on the people. And as 
 the ministers quartered at different houses 
 during the meeting, they conversed freely 
 and faithfully with parents and children on 
 the concerns of their souls, and lasting and 
 saving impressions were thus made on many 
 minds. So it was, in a still higher degree 
 and in a more extended circle, when the 
 great assembly of ministers from widely 
 distant places was convened. Its sessions 
 were expected with intense interest, as holy 
 convocations of holy men ; it was attended 
 with demonstrations of strong fraternal re- 
 gard and so many tokens of the divine 
 
OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 107 
 
 favor, that the annual meeting was a pre- 
 cious season to all who were permitted to 
 enjoy its delightful influence. 
 
 From such a meeting as this, Mr. Rogers 
 returned to his scattered flock and secluded 
 parish. His own soul had been refreshed 
 and quickened. He had heard of the pow- 
 er of the gospel in other parts of the land ; 
 of great revivals of religion, such as he 
 longed to see among his own people ; he 
 had been roused by the exhibitions of zeal 
 among his brethren, and had been impress- 
 ed more deeply, perhaps, than ever, that 
 each pastor is responsible for the improve- 
 ment of his own vineyard. He came home 
 with a firm determination, relying on the 
 strong arm of sovereign grace, to deliver 
 his own soul from the blood of his people, 
 by doing his whole duty in the fear of God. 
 Mr. Rogers was not a man of impulse, and 
 when he took a resolution like the one just 
 named, it was a princij)Ie in the framework 
 of his soul, to be developed steadily and 
 totally, until all its meaning and power were 
 
108 OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 
 
 answered. He would do what duty had 
 bade him, and if sinners wei'e saved and 
 saints edified, he would rejoice and give 
 God the praise ; if his labors were vain, 
 and the seed never bore fruit, he would 
 still be clear, and God should accomplish 
 his own righteous will. He now entered 
 upon a thorough exhibition of divine truth, 
 in a light more vivid and in a style more 
 pungent and convincing than he had ever 
 preached before. He took the law of God 
 and held up its majesty and purity with a 
 grandeur that startled the hearer, as if the 
 distant thunder of Sinai were breaking on 
 his trembling ear. Perhaps his forte was 
 to take what we call the strorig truths of the 
 gospel, and present them before the mind 
 with such transparent clearness, that men 
 could not shut their eyes against the con- 
 victions thus brought home to their hearts. 
 When he had pressed on them the claims 
 of the divine law, its high requisitions, its 
 exceeding breadth and strength, which no 
 man since the fall of Adam had fully met 
 
OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 109 
 
 and answered, he then set forth the utter 
 helplessness of self-ruined man without the 
 interposition of divine recovering grace. 
 Then came the duty of the sinner to repent 
 and turn to God, and the rich provisions 
 of salvation in the full and glorious atone- 
 ment of the Lord Jesus Christ ! I wish 
 you could have heard him on these themes, 
 at this period of his ministry. He was in 
 the prime of life and the very acme of his 
 physical and mental powers ; his soul roused 
 by communion with kindred souls and with 
 God, while the souls of his people were be- 
 fore him as priceless, yet perishing treas- 
 ures, for whose salvation he must labor and 
 give account. O how the gospel shook the 
 walls of the Old White Meetinghouse, when 
 he opened the terrors of the law to persuade 
 men to flee from the wrath to come, or 
 hung out the love of a crucified Redeemer, 
 to win the wandering back to the foot of the 
 cross ! Often do I seem to hear those calls, 
 as if time had travelled back, and I were 
 again sitting under the old high pulpit, listen- 
 10 
 
110 OLD-FASHIONED REVIVALS. 
 
 ing to the trumpet-voice of my old pastor. 
 But it is past. 
 
 Such preaching, joined with prayer, for 
 he was a man of prayer, could not be in 
 vain. It was followed up with judicious 
 and efficient means to awaken general at- 
 tention among the people. Prayer-meet- 
 ings were established, if not already in op- 
 eration, in all the neighborhoods. The 
 elders met often with the pastor for private 
 supplication at the throne of grace, and from 
 house to house they went, two and two, 
 warning and entreating men to turn unto 
 God. Soon the effects became visible. 
 The house of God on the sabbath-day was 
 solemn as eternity. The evening meetings 
 were attended by greater numbers than be- 
 fore, and a spirit of prayer was evidently 
 poured out upon those who met. Here 
 and there a sinner was awakened and came 
 to the pastor to learn what to do to be 
 saved. 
 
 The devil saw it and trembled. He 
 knew that his power was in danger, and re- 
 
THE BALL. Ill 
 
 solved to have a fight before he gave up. 
 His first attempt was a cunning stratagem 
 to lure the young away fi^om serious things, 
 by stirring them up to the vanities of the 
 world. The " fourth of July" was just at 
 hand, and the devil put it into the hearts of 
 the young to get up a grand "ball," to be 
 held in the tavern that stood across the green, 
 directly in front of the meetinghouse ! This 
 was a masterly stroke of policy. A ball 
 was a novelty almost unheard of in that 
 place ; and at that season of the year, it was 
 altogether a singular affair. But with the 
 aid of some blades from distant villages, the 
 arrangements were made in spite of the re- 
 monstrances, and even the entreaties of the 
 pious portion of the people. Some of the 
 daughters of church-members were so much 
 elated with the idea of going to a ball, that 
 no means short of compulsion would avail 
 to deter them. Mr. Rogers, true to his 
 office, on the sabbath before it was to come 
 off, having failed by private counsel to 
 break it up, went into his pulpit girt with 
 
112 THE BALL. 
 
 the armor of God, and there denounced the 
 intended dance as a bold and damnable de- 
 vice of Satan to resist and quench the Holy 
 Spirit, that in great mercy had at last come 
 down among them on a visit of salvation. 
 He warned the young of the desperate game 
 they were playing, of the madness of rush- 
 ing against the thick bosses of Jehovah's 
 buckler, and of the peril in which they put 
 their immortal souls by engaging in worldly 
 amusements with the avowed design of dis- 
 sipating religious impressions, whose pres- 
 ence they could not deny. This note of 
 alarm had the desired effect upon some of 
 the more conscientious, but the most of 
 them had gone so far in the arrangements 
 that they were not willing to give it up. So 
 Mr. Rogers had supposed ; and, therefore, 
 in anticipation of just this result, at the close 
 of his sermon, he gave notice that the 
 church would be open for public prayer in 
 behalf of the '* ball," the meeting for prayer 
 to commence at the time set for the " ball" 
 to begin ! ! 
 
THE BALL. 113 
 
 Was there ever such a thing heard of 
 since dancing was invented? Who but 
 Mr. Rogers would have thought of a prayer- 
 meeting for a " ball"? And both meet- 
 ings were held ; the praying people, fathers, 
 and mothers, and many of their children 
 with them, came to the meetinghouse, and 
 (it being in July) the doors and windows 
 were wide open while they sang and prayed, 
 and within hearing, the young folks assem- 
 bled in the ball-room, and to the sound of 
 the fiddle danced while the church prayed. 
 The solemn psalm was heard in the ball- 
 room, and the screech of the fiddle crossed 
 the green and grated on the ears of the wor- 
 shippers of God in his sacred courts. But 
 the ball broke down. It was hot work to 
 dance in hot weather, with the fire of a 
 guilty conscience burning like hell in the 
 breast. It is a fact that some of the company 
 were convicted of sin on the floor, that very 
 day, and were afterward added to the church. 
 One of them said he felt when he tried to 
 dance, as if his heels were made of lead. 
 10* 
 
114 THE HORSERACE. 
 
 He had no heart for it. The revival went 
 on gloriously, and the devil determined to 
 try again. 
 
 He next got up a horserace. This is a 
 sport peculiarly his own. In it and about 
 it there is so much of his spirit and Ids work, 
 that any one might know that the life-giving 
 genius of the whole thing belongs of natural 
 right to the devil. There was a cluster of 
 houses around the meetinghouse, and anoth- 
 er half a mile from it on each side, and the 
 ground a dead level between, and this was 
 the arena selected by a set of devil-inspired 
 men for a horserace. In a quiet commu- 
 nity like ours, an operation of this kind 
 could not fail to set the whole mass in com- 
 motion. It was very rare that in any part 
 of the town the thing was attempted, but to 
 try it in the very heart of the place, in the 
 public street, in front of the church, was 
 monstrous, and it seems incredible that men 
 could be found with hardihood enough to 
 undertake it. When Mr. Rogers saw the 
 handbills posted up in the streets announ- 
 
THE HORSERACE. 115 
 
 cing the race to come off the next week, he 
 called on two or three leading men to en- 
 gage them in the necessary steps to pre- 
 vent the projected outrage. But, as if to 
 show how successfully the evil one does 
 sometimes manage his plots, these men, 
 who were usually as bold as a lion, now 
 frankly said that he could do nothing ; 
 people would race horses, and perhaps it 
 was best to let them have their own w^ay — 
 there was only one w^ay to stop them, and 
 that was to threaten legal prosecution, as it 
 was against the law, and this might only 
 make the matter worse. Mr. Rogers's holy 
 soul was moved with righteous indignation. 
 To be deserted at such a crisis by those on 
 whom he was wont to rely, was a blow he 
 had not expected, and he took his own 
 measures accordingly. He went to his 
 pulpit the next sabbath and announced his 
 text, *' When the enemy cometh in like a 
 flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a 
 standard against him." In words of fire he 
 warned his people of the flood of vice which 
 
116 THE HORSERACE. 
 
 was coming in during the week before them, 
 and having stated what unsuccessful steps 
 he had taken to put a stop to it, he entered 
 his solemn and public protest against it in 
 the presence of God, and threw the respon- 
 sibility on the heads of those who, holding 
 the power to administer the law, had deter- 
 mined to sit still and see it trampled upon 
 by a crew of lawless men. This was the 
 standard which the Spirit of the Lord raised 
 up to meet the emergency. The people 
 were struck with the words of power and 
 truth, as well as with the holy boldness that 
 clothed the preacher's brow, as he portrayed 
 the impending evil, and their consciences 
 smote them that they had been so quiet 
 while the storm had been gathering. At 
 the close of divine service, 'Squire Garret, 
 the " Old Lawyer," as he was called, one 
 of the oldest and most influential of the peo- 
 ple, rose in his pew and asked the heads of 
 the congregation to remain for a few minutes 
 while they considered their duty in view of 
 the truth to which they had just listened. 
 
THE HORSERACE. 117 
 
 A resolution was then introduced by him, 
 and unanimously adopted, appointing a com- 
 mittee to prosecute to the extremity of the 
 law all persons who should engage in the 
 proposed races, and denouncing the prac- 
 tice as one which no good citizen or Chris- 
 tian would uphold. That was an end of 
 the horserace. Mr. Rogers broke that up 
 effectually. The managers heard of the 
 determined measures that had been adopted, 
 and very wisely postponed the race on ac- 
 count of the lameness of one of the horses, 
 that never got well enough to run in that 
 neighborhood. The revival went on. 
 
 There were many things about that revi- 
 val which I remember with peculiar inter- 
 est, but which will not strike the reader as 
 peculiar. The stillness of the evening 
 meetings was most remarkable. These 
 were held in the district schoolhouses, and 
 being conducted chiefly by the elders, con- 
 sisted almost entirely of singing and fervent 
 prayer. There was no irregularity, no 
 noise, seldom a sob, sometimes a deep sigh 
 
118 THE REVIVAL. 
 
 that might be heard over the whole house, 
 but there were at all times such tokens of 
 Divine power as could not be mistaken or 
 evaded. And when the hour was spent the 
 people seemed unwilling to go, and would 
 still sit on the seats, and converse with each 
 other on the state of religion in their own 
 souls, and sometimes they would pray to- 
 gether again, or some one would strike up 
 a tune, with some favorite hymn, as, 
 
 " Jesus ! and shall it ever be, 
 A mortal man ashamed of thee,'' 
 
 and then the meeting would seem to be be- 
 gun again. We had no " anxious seats," 
 but the pastor urged all those who wished 
 to have conversation on the subject of re- 
 ligion to visit him at his study, or to call on 
 any of the elders ; and he spent as much 
 time as he could in going from house to 
 house, instructing the young, directing the 
 inquiring, examining the grounds on which 
 the new converts were resting their trem- 
 bling hopes, and exhorting the careless to 
 awaken from their stupidity and lay hold on 
 
THE REVIVAL. 119 
 
 eternal life. In labors he was abundant. 
 But no labor was too great for him if there- 
 by he might save the souls of his people. 
 And the Spirit of the Lord seemed to be 
 on him and with him, so that his words 
 were set home upon the conscience with a 
 cogency that impelled conviction, and made 
 any open resistance useless. The deep 
 depravity of the human heart was in the 
 way, and Mr. Rogers was as powerless to 
 deal with that as a child. But he dealt out 
 the potent truth and the o}n?iipotent Spirit 
 did the rest. Sinners were slain and made 
 alive, and there was joy in heaven over re- 
 penting souls. 
 
 I do not know the reason, perhaps others 
 can account for it, though I only know the 
 fact, that in the revivals of twenty-five years 
 ago, conversions were not so sudden as they 
 now are. It was no unusual thing for a 
 person to go six weeks, and sometimes 
 even six months under deep conviction of 
 sin, and it was not considered strange, though 
 at present we should give a man up almost 
 
120 THE REVIVAL. 
 
 as a hopeless case who should resist serious 
 impressions so long as that. Perhaps the 
 mode of instructing awakened sinners is 
 more philosophical now than it was then 
 — I do not believe it is more scriptural — 
 and they may be led more directly to the 
 contemplation of those classes of truth which 
 demand the entire acquiescence of the heart 
 in the act of submission to God. But one 
 thing is quite as certain, and that is, there 
 were fewer spurious conversions then than 
 now ; and our modern revivals are to be 
 tested as to their comparative value by this 
 as well as other facts. Where the instruc- 
 tion given to the awakened is evangelical 
 and sound, calculated to lead the sinner to 
 look well to the ground on which he rests 
 his soul and to make sure work for eternity, 
 few cases of " falling away" occur when 
 the revival subsides. But in those excite- 
 ments where sinners are told to submit, 
 and as soon as they say they are willing, 
 are assured that they are converted, as it 
 is often the case, it is to be expected that 
 
THE REVIVAL. 121 
 
 many will deceive themselves, and, by-and- 
 by, will manifest their mistake to the grief 
 of the church and the shame of the cause. 
 
 This revival began in the heart of Mr. 
 Rogers, and spread gradually but widely 
 among the hearts of his whole people. The 
 most remote hamlets of the congregation, 
 some of them lying twelve miles apart, and 
 six from the church, were pervaded by the 
 power of the Holy One, and many an hum- 
 ble home was made joyful with the songs 
 of newborn souls. It was confined to no 
 age. The young were the most frequent 
 subjects, for there were few hearers who 
 had grown old in sin. But many young 
 heads of families were brought in, who im- 
 mediately erected the family altar, and as 
 long as they lived were consistent and ac- 
 tive Christians. One or two grayheaded 
 men, who had stood for years as monu- 
 ments of sparing mercy, were now made 
 monuments of sovereign grace ; rescued at 
 the eleventh hour from the verge of ruin. 
 
 A stout-hearted and stout-bodied farmer 
 11 
 
122 THE REVIVAL. 
 
 who had reached the half-way house of 
 life was convicted of sin. He had been 
 a pattern of morality in the world, and no 
 man could say that Mr. McAlley was ever 
 known to do that which was wrong to a 
 neighbor. But he had in his breast a 
 wicked heart of unbelief; and when the 
 Holy Spirit touched that heart, Mr. M. 
 felt that he was a sinner and must be born 
 again. At first he tried to build a hope of 
 final salvation on the moral life he had led, 
 and the many good things he had done for 
 the church. And no one was more liberal 
 to support the gospel and to contribute to 
 every charitable object than he ; but what 
 were these things to quiet a conscience that 
 God had roused, and to save from hell that 
 God had threatened to all who do not re- 
 pent and believe. The stricken sinner 
 turned with disgust from his own righteous- 
 ness, and sought the Savior as the only 
 ground of hope. He went to his pastor, 
 the good Mr. Rogers, for advice in this 
 hour of deep distress, and was told to recent 
 
THE REVIVAL. 123 
 
 and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. He 
 went away and came again. Again he re- 
 ceived the same counsel, and Mr. Rogers 
 prayed with him, and endeavored to con- 
 vince him that he was resisting the Holy 
 Spirit, refusing to submit to the humbling 
 terms of the gospel, and accept salvation as 
 the free gift of God. Mr. McAlley would 
 not believe that he was thus proud and 
 rebellious, but declared again and again 
 that he was willing to do anytldng in the 
 world, if God would only have mercy on 
 him. Thus he was flying back to his own 
 works all the while, and trying to work out 
 a plan of his own that would answer instead 
 of that plan which strips the sinner of his 
 own merit, and lays him a helpless beggar 
 at the footstool of sovereign mercy. One 
 sabbath-day, after he had been under con- 
 viction for some months, he followed Mr. 
 Rogers home from church, and entered it 
 just as the good pastor, exhausted with his 
 arduous labors, had thrown himself into his 
 great arm-chair. Mr. McAIIey began : — 
 
124 THE REVIVAL. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Rogers, I'm pretty much 
 discouraged. I have tried to do what 
 you have told me ; I have prayed and 
 prayed, and tried to repent and believe, and 
 I do not see that I can do anything more." 
 
 The kind-hearted pastor looked up at him 
 as thefarmerstoodin the middle of the study, 
 and said : — 
 
 *' O, yes, there is one thing more you can 
 do ; you can go down to hell with your sins 
 on your soul." 
 
 The farmer's spirit was broken by that 
 sudden and awful tliought. Was it true 
 that nothing remained for him but a fearful 
 looking for judgment and fiery indignation ? 
 Had he sinned away his day of grace ; 
 grieved the Holy Spirit and made his own 
 destruction sure? He turned away in 
 silence, and with a crushed heart left the 
 pastor's house for his own. He had some 
 miles to go, and it was in the cool of a 
 summer sabbath. On his way homeward, 
 he was enabled to yield his proud spirit to 
 the gentle reign of Jesus, and to embrace 
 
THE REVIVAL. 125 
 
 the Savior in his beauty and love. From 
 that sabbath he was one of the most ex- 
 emplary Christians in that congregation. 
 Some years afterward he was chosen an 
 elder in the church, which office he still 
 adorns, if he has not been translated to a 
 higher service. 
 
 Several other instances to illustrate the 
 skill of Mr. Rogers in dealing with inquir- 
 ing sinners, but more to magnify the riches 
 of God's grace, occur to me, but 1 have 
 made this narrative already too long. Yet 
 it is well, it is sweet, instructive, animating 
 to recall those seasons of revival when 
 the whole congregation, from the centre to 
 its wide circumference, was shaken by the 
 power of the Spirit; when every house 
 was filled with the influences of the work, 
 and many were brought out of darkness into 
 the gospel's marvellous light. Revivals 
 have since been enjoyed in the same con- 
 gregation, but the one to which I have re- 
 ferred was the most pervading and power- 
 ful, and its fruits the most permanent. 
 11* 
 
-126 THE REVIVAL. 
 
 This is no place, even if I had time, to 
 speak of the means to be employed in the 
 promotion of pure and undefiled revivals of 
 religion. But the experience of past years 
 is full of instruction on this great subject ; 
 a subject intimately allied with the prosperi- 
 ty of Zion and the salvation of men. A 
 pure revival is the work of God's Spirit, 
 whereby the church is awakened to a sense 
 of its obligations and privileges, and in 
 answer to the prayers of God's people, 
 sinners are convicted and converted. The 
 theory of revivals is very simple, but he 
 that w^inneth souls is wise. The pastor 
 who desires to see his congregation revived, 
 will seek the Spirit for his own soul, and 
 will preach as a dying man to dying men. 
 He will be instant in season and out of 
 season to reprove and exhort. He will 
 not fail to declare the whole counsel of 
 God. Leaning on the arm of the Almighty, 
 he will address himself to the work, and 
 wrestle like Jacob, and plead like Paul. 
 God will hear, and he loves to bless. 
 
THE REVIVAL. 127 
 
 " O that the salvation of Israel were 
 come out of Zion ! When the Lord bring- 
 eth back the captivity of his people, Jacob 
 shall rejoice, and Israel shall be glad." 
 
128 SPINNING-BEES. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SPINNING-BEES — APPLE-PARINGS — WEDDINGS. 
 
 In the retirement of a secluded parish 
 like ours, you would hardly look for much 
 in the way of amusements. Of course, we 
 had no theatres nor circus, nor any of the 
 hundred playhouses that abound in, and 
 curse this great city. But we had some 
 means of amusement, and if they were not 
 so fashionable or refined as a comedy or 
 the opera, they were far more rational, 
 useful, and free from all objections on the 
 score of evil. Now I may be able to tell 
 you something of our country pastimes, 
 which will serve to compensate for the dul- 
 ness of some of my former chapters ; yet 
 if they should prove to be no better than 
 they, I shall not be greatly disappointed. 
 And I will begin in the first place (as Mr. 
 
SPINNING-BEES. 129 
 
 Rogers used to say), with our spinning- 
 bees. Many a city reader never heard of 
 a spinning-bee ! Was it a general gathering 
 of the good women of the parish with their 
 spinning-wheels ? This may have been the 
 fact in a period of time to which my memo- 
 ry runneth not back, but such was not the 
 meaning of the term in the days of my boy- 
 hood. A " bee" was, and is, the name 
 given to a union of forces for the accom- 
 plishment of any given enterprise, which 
 the strength of one farmer and his "hands" 
 could not achieve. Or it might be that 
 the work ought to be done up at once, and 
 time would be saved by getting the help 
 of the neighbors, or it might be again that 
 they wanted a frolic more than they wanted 
 work, and in all these and other instances, 
 it was a common jhing to invite the people 
 far and near to come and take hold : and 
 at such times there was plenty of cider and 
 fun, so that the work was play, and such 
 gatherings were looked upon as pastimes, 
 rather than as labors. Such were chopping- 
 
130 SPINNING-BEES. 
 
 bees, and husklng-bees. and apple-bees, 
 and the like, some of which may come into 
 this chapter, when I have finished the de- 
 scription of the one I have begun. Very 
 likely in old, very old times, the people did 
 sometimes come together with their wheels, 
 and in concert spin ever so many skeins of 
 yarn at once, helping one another by mutual 
 gossip, and cheered by a social cup of tea. 
 But in the comparatively modern times that 
 embrace the period of my youth (how re- 
 spectable that sounds), a " spinning-bee" 
 signified a visit given to the minister by his 
 congregation, on which occasion they pre- 
 sented him with various articles useful to 
 him in the way of housekeeping, of various 
 sorts, according to the taste and ability of 
 the donor. It was usually held in the win- 
 ter, and as yarn, of linen or woollen, was 
 the principal article of donation, it came to 
 pass that the name of " spinning-bee" was 
 given to it as its distinctive application, 
 though, as I have said, it may be that for- 
 merly they brought their wheels also. 
 
SPINNING-BEES. 131 
 
 The plan of operation, or the order of 
 exercises, was somewhat on this wise. Very 
 early in the afternoon, the wagons, or sleighs, 
 if there was snow, began to arrive. This 
 coming to tea at eighty teri, or twelve o'clock 
 at night is a pestilent practice, never heard 
 of up in the country where I lived. In that 
 goodly place, and in those goodly times, no 
 sooner was dinner over (and dinner was at 
 noon) than the women began to get ready, 
 if they were going out to tea, and by one or 
 two o'clock they were on the way. Three 
 was late, and if by any accident the compa- 
 ny was delayed till four or five, they were 
 given up as "not coming" that day. 
 
 As the various teams arriv^ed, the farmers' 
 wives came with baskets and bundles, the 
 former well stored with biscuits, doughnuts, 
 and crullers, which were designed for the 
 tea-table, and the bundle containing the 
 more substantial present which they had 
 brought in token of their attachment to the 
 pastor. Some retired room was set apart 
 for the reception of these gifts, and there 
 
132 SPINNING-BEES. 
 
 the pastor's wife received each friend as she 
 arrived, and thanked her kindly for the very 
 welcome ofFerinof. One would brins; two 
 or three pairs of nice woollen stockings, and 
 she was assured that nothing could be more 
 acceptable. Another had brought some 
 homespun and home-made linen, white as 
 the driven snow, or woollen which her own 
 hands had woven into good substantial cloth 
 for children's clothes, and as she drew forth 
 her goodly gifts, an air of conscious pride 
 was in her face, as she expressed her regret 
 that she could offer nothing better. Mrs. 
 Rogers expressed her gratitude in very few 
 words, and was scarcely heard before she 
 turned to shake hands with another lady 
 who had just arrived with a noble cheese ! 
 This was the fruit of the giver's own labor; 
 she had managed her dairy herself, with the 
 help of her two daughters, each of whom 
 now presented sundry rolls of golden butter, 
 that kings might long to have and not be 
 able to get. Then came others, and by this 
 time the room was full of ladies, all of whom 
 
SPINNING-BEES. 133 
 
 had come laden with the produce of their 
 own industry, and now found a sweet reward 
 of their toil in the thought of bestowing it 
 on those whom they loved. In another part 
 of the house the menfolks were gathered, 
 some of them having taken pains to put into 
 the wagon a few bushels of grain, or a quar- 
 ter of beef, or something in that line, and 
 they found a place to deposite it, and Mr. 
 Rogers was now engaged in profitable dis- 
 course with them ; a privilege which the 
 most of them had intellio-ence enouo:h to 
 appreciate and enjoy. Soon the company 
 was all assembled in the parlor of the par- 
 sonage, and the rest of the afternoon was 
 spent in free and easy conversation. Here 
 was a fine opportunity for those living far 
 apart to form acquaintance with one another, 
 and thus the most distant portions of the 
 congregation were united in friendship and 
 good neighborhood, as they never would 
 have been but for these annual gatherings 
 at the minister's house. In one corner of 
 the room, or in another room, the young 
 12 
 
134 SPINNING-BEES. 
 
 people were together, amusing themselves 
 as young people will ; some of them, per- 
 haps the children, engaged in some innocent 
 play, and the rest making such entertain- 
 ment as became their years, while the 
 smothered laugh, and the half-hid practical 
 joke which was now and then attempted, 
 showed that they understood very well that 
 they were in the minister's house, and that 
 the old folks were within hearing. Thus 
 the afternoon passed away, rapidly and 
 pleasantly, until the tea was ready. The 
 tables — all the tables in the house — were 
 spread in the kitchen, if there was no other 
 part of the house that could be used for 
 such a service, and loaded with the good 
 it>>mg5 which the company had brought. It 
 was not expected that Mrs. Rogers would 
 furnish any part of the entertainment. Some 
 of the more notable women of the parish 
 superintended the table, seeing that every 
 thing was in " apple-pie order," and when 
 this was done, they would ask out to the 
 *' first table" as many of the older set as 
 
SPINNING-BEES. 135 
 
 could be accommodated at once. Perhaps 
 there were places at the table for thirty, and 
 when these had "well drunk," the next set 
 was invited out, and then another, till all, 
 including the little ones, who waited till the 
 last, had been served. These various ta- 
 bles were waited upon by some of the young 
 ladies, who esteemed it an honor to distin- 
 guish themselves on such an occasion, by 
 showing their skill in one of the most im- 
 portant parts of housekeeping, and if they 
 should thus commend themselves to the 
 favorable notice of any observant youth of 
 the other sex, it would be no matter of sur- 
 prise. 
 
 These operations being now concluded, 
 the company were once more assembled in 
 the front rooms of the parsonage, and the 
 shades of evening giving notice that it was 
 about time to be "getting their things," and 
 starting for home, Mr. Rogers begs them 
 to sit still a few moments longer. He then 
 in few words, and with great propriety of 
 language, speaks of the pleasure which he 
 
136 SPINNING-BEES. 
 
 and his family had enjoyed in the society 
 of their friends, the gratitude which they 
 desired to feel for the varied and substantial 
 proofs of their kindness, and of the rich 
 occasion which he and his people had for 
 thanksgiving to God for the bounties of his 
 providence with which their lives were 
 crowned. He rejoiced that their lot had 
 been cast in the midst of so much that called 
 for grateful acknowledgment, and he in- 
 dulged the hope that they would so improve 
 their manifold mercies, that the good Giver 
 of them all would not be tempted to take 
 them away to bestow them on those who 
 should improve them more to his praise. 
 He then read a psalm which was sung with 
 great spirit, after which they all knelt down, 
 and Mr. Rogers led them to the throne of 
 Divine Grace in fervent prayer, invoking the 
 choicest of Heaven's blessings on them and 
 their households to the latest generation. 
 
 This was the signal for breaking up. 
 Each family, as they retired, shook hands 
 with the good pastor and his wife, and made 
 
SPINNING-BEES. 137 
 
 them "promise to come and see them," and 
 with many assurances of continued regard 
 they found the way to their respective ve- 
 hicles and homes. After they had all gone, 
 or perhaps on the following day, Mrs. Ro- 
 gers proceeds to parcel out the various com- 
 modities, to see what use could be made 
 of matters and things in general which had 
 been received. The most valuable pres- 
 ents had been linen yarn, which was now 
 to be sorted according to its quality, and 
 woven by hand ; for in those days there 
 were few factories in the country, and none 
 in those parts. Perhaps the whole value 
 of one of these visits to the minister and 
 his family was somewhere about a hundred 
 dollars, but the chief value was in the 
 pledge thus given of affectionate interest, 
 and in the opportunity of bringing the peo- 
 ple together sociably, on common ground, 
 once in every year. It has always seemed 
 to me to be a fact deeply to be regretted, 
 that in our city and village congregations, 
 the members have so little social inter- 
 
 12* 
 
138 SPINNING-BEES. 
 
 course, and are oftentimes utterly unac- 
 quainted with one another. They sit in the 
 same sanctuary, and at the same commun- 
 ion-table, often follow each other in prayer 
 at the so-called social meeting, yet they can 
 not shake hands at the close of the meeting, 
 for they have never been introduced ! It 
 was quite a different state of things in our 
 country church. It was altogether a dif- 
 ferent state of things among the primitive 
 Christians, where the mutual love they bore, 
 the tender interest which they discovered in 
 each other, was pleasing to God, and aston- 
 ishing to the unbelieving world. When one 
 member suffered, all suffered ; but where 
 the brethren are not known even by name, 
 as is often the case in our city churches, 
 how can the flame of Christian love pervade 
 their hearts and cement the whole as the 
 heart of one man ? I do not know that 
 "spinning-bees" would be the thing for a 
 city church ; but the establishment of some 
 meetings at the pastor's house, or at some 
 other suitable place where all might come 
 
APPLE-PARING BEES. 139 
 
 together on an equal footing for the purpose 
 of familiar conversation, to exchange views 
 and feelings on subjects alike dear to all, 
 and especially where the circle of acquaint- 
 ance might be extended and the chain of 
 friendship brightened, could not fail to ex- 
 ert the most salutary influences. This is 
 an inference which I did not intend to draw 
 from my first chapter on country pastimes, 
 and it may strike the reader as it does me, 
 out of place ; but I trust the importance of 
 the suggestion will be admitted, and we 
 will go on with the story. 
 
 Apple-Paring Bees. — The name de- 
 fines the thing. But they were fine times, 
 I assure my readers, and I have not grown 
 so old but sometimes I feel as if I would 
 give more for one of those winter evenings 
 in the long kitchen, paring apples and tel- 
 ling stories, than for all the fashionable par- 
 ties, with music and mirth, that I have ever 
 attended. They were chiefly confined to 
 the young folks, and were usually held in 
 the latter part of autumn, or early in the 
 
140 APPLE-PARING BEES. 
 
 winter. It was customary in those days, 
 when as yet there was no objection to the 
 free use of cider, to make a large quantity 
 of apples into " applesauce," which was 
 done by boiling apples in cider after they 
 were peeled and quartered ; after which 
 they were stored away for winter consump- 
 tion. A large quantity of apples were also 
 pared, quartered, and dried, by spreading 
 them on boards and exposing them to the 
 sun, or by stringing them and hanging them 
 in the kitchen or on the sides of the house. 
 Now it was no small affair to prepare a 
 dozen bushels of apples in this way, but the 
 work was light and pleasant, and just such 
 work as it is far pleasanter to do with others 
 to help you, than to do alone ; so it was 
 common to assemble the young men and 
 maidens from all the country side, or at 
 least, as many as the kitchen, the scene of 
 action, would accommodate, and each guest 
 being provided with a knife, and a dish for 
 his chips, the work was begun and carried 
 on with all the sprightliness and fun which 
 
APPLE-PARING BEES. 141 
 
 you would naturally expect in such a gath- 
 ering. Plenty of new cider, not strong 
 enough to do any mischief, was at hand, 
 and often passed around, together with the 
 apples and nuts, and all went " merry as a 
 marriage bell." The boys and girls were 
 interspersed to give variety to the company ; 
 not all the young men on one side, and all 
 the young women on the other, as is the 
 foolish practice in some of the churches 
 where the seats are free ; but each choosing 
 his own place, and showing his preferences 
 by slily locating himself alongside of the fair 
 one whose ear he wished to command during 
 the evening. For the space of a couple of 
 hours the work would go forward with 
 spirit, some paring the apples, and passing 
 them to others, who would quarter and core 
 them ; while others still would, with a large 
 needle and thread, string them (like enor- 
 mous pearls) prepared to be suspended for 
 the process of drying, or to be reserved for 
 boihng. But after hard work, the young 
 folks would begin to complain of being tired, 
 
142 APPLE-PARING BEES. 
 
 and some of the more forward would hint 
 the expediency of taking a rest. Soon the 
 labor of the evening was suspended, and an 
 innocent but diverting play was proposed, 
 in which all joined with more spirit and 
 glee than the ballroom would show, while 
 the merry laugh and the happy hit gave the 
 best evidence that these young people could 
 be cheerful and gay without even the knowl- 
 edge of one of the ten thousand means of 
 amusement which our city-bred youth deem 
 indispensable. Yet these fashionable folly- 
 seekers would probably affect a blush, and 
 perhaps an exclamation of contempt, if I 
 should add that these country plays not un- 
 frequently sent a young beau to inflict a 
 kiss upon the half-hidden and reluctant 
 cheek of the " one he liked best," or the 
 "handsomest girl in the room;" penalties 
 to be paid for failure in the game ; but 
 dreadful as such rustic practices must ap- 
 pear to the refined people who can sit half 
 the night and see a half-dressed girl dancing 
 on the stage, or sit in the Tabernacle, as I 
 
COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 143 
 
 have, and see a girl with bare arms and 
 bosom singing for the edification of the 
 Christian people of New York ; dreadful, 
 I say, as our old-fashioned rustic plays must 
 seem to the more chaste and delicate sensi- 
 bilities of the refined generation that now 
 dwells in these parts, I beg to indulge the 
 opinion that the state of society where these 
 dreadful things were tolerated, was a thou- 
 sandfold more virtuous and lovely than the 
 artificial laws of our world of fashion can 
 ever secure. Certain I am, that if any 
 young woman had ventured into church, or 
 into an evening party, dressed, or rather 
 undressed, as I have seen married and un- 
 married females in parties and concerts, &c., 
 in the city of New York, she would have 
 been driven out of society as one who was 
 lost to the first dictates of female propriety, 
 and unfit to mingle with the virtuous and 
 pure. 
 
 But these rural amusements were more 
 commonly and more heartily enjoyed at the 
 COUNTRY-WEDDINGS than at any other 
 
144 COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 
 
 gatherings. These parties were more se- 
 lect, and being often composed of those 
 families only who were connected by mar- 
 riage, or intimately acquainted, there was 
 less restraint thrown around them, and the 
 young people gave themselves a wider mar- 
 gin in the selection of their sports and the 
 imposition of their penalties. Now, I can 
 readily imagine that some of my readers 
 will be so fastidious, as to slightly turn up- 
 ward their facial projections, if I go on to 
 recount the sports of the young at a country- 
 wedding, and so I must confine myself to 
 as general and cursory a view of the facts 
 as will be consistent with my duty as an 
 impartial and fearless historian of those 
 times. Am I at liberty to say nothing of 
 the state of society then and there ? May 
 I pass by in silence the very form and fea- 
 ture of the folks, in those circumstances 
 where character is developed, and the pow- 
 er of the instruction they received was 
 likely to exhibit more or less of its fruits ? 
 I shall therefore tell the truth, and here I 
 
COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 145 
 
 will add that you may probably search the 
 country over in vain, to find a community 
 where fewer youth were led into habits of 
 vice than in the old country congregation 
 where it is my pride to say I had my 
 " bringing up." But the weddings. 
 
 These were not merely times for fun. 
 A marriage ceremony performed by Mr. 
 Rogers, w^as a solemn season, long to be 
 remembered by those more immediately 
 concerned, and well calculated to produce 
 a good impression upon all who heard 
 it. The form which he used was simple 
 and expressive, the vows which he required 
 were tender, scriptural, and strong, the 
 counsels he gave were weighty, plain, and 
 so affectionately urged upon the youthful 
 pair, that they could scarcely fail to be re- 
 membered and referred to in after life. 
 And then his prayers — with what earnest- 
 ness and strength he would commend them 
 to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 
 and invoke upon them the blessings prom- 
 ised to the families that call on his name. 
 13 
 
146 COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 
 
 In the midst of these services the most de- 
 vout solemnity always reigned ; and the 
 parents of both parties appeared to feel (as 
 they should) that a most momentous step 
 was taken by their children, and the friends 
 around looked on as if each had an interest 
 at heart in the future happiness of the par- 
 ties now united in tender and holy bonds. 
 After the ceremony, " cake and wine" were 
 handed around, and moderately partaken 
 of by the company, the days of total absti- 
 nence being in the future. But there was 
 no more drhiklng after that single glass, 
 and I never heard that any weddings were 
 disgraced by such scenes of excessive in- 
 dulgence in liquors as have become com- 
 mon in these latter days. Doubtless many 
 have thought it right and proper to drink 
 wine freely at weddings, though they would 
 abstain from it at other times, and thus the 
 example of sober men has encouraged the 
 young to indulge with less restraint. 
 
 So long as the minister remained, there 
 was very little in the way of amusement ; not 
 
COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 147 
 
 because he would frown upon it, nor because 
 the amusements were to be such as would 
 offend any serious people ; but there was a 
 silent reverence always felt for the pastor 
 that forbade any mirth in his presence, and 
 sobriety was therefore a tribute involuntarily 
 but cheerfully rendered to his exalted worth. 
 The young folks did not feel free to laugh 
 very loud or to play very hard when the 
 minister could see or hear them. Mr. 
 Rogers understood this very well, and after 
 a little pleasant conversation with the family 
 and the friends he withdrew and returned to 
 his home. This was the signal for the 
 sport to begin. Two or three youngsters 
 immediately proposed as many different 
 plays, which were responded to according 
 to the various tastes of the party, till at 
 length one was selected by the prevailing 
 voices, with the promise to play the others 
 afterward. As at the " apple-paring," the 
 great attraction of these plays was found in 
 the fact that whoever was " caught," either 
 by failing to " catch the plate," or to '* find 
 
148 COUNTRY-WEDDINGS. 
 
 the slipper," or in any other of the opera- 
 tions set on foot, was condemned to " meas- 
 ure off so many yards of tape" with such a 
 young lady, or to walk so many times around 
 the room in company with another, or to 
 perform some similar penance^ the more of 
 which he had to suffer, the more agreeable 
 it was to him and his partner. Many of 
 these plays required not a little " bodily ex- 
 ercise," and there was quite as great a de- 
 mand for gracefulness and agility as in the 
 more fashionable amusement of dancing, 
 which I never knew to be attempted at any 
 of these parties. Sometimes the older folks 
 would catch the spirit of the times, and en- 
 ter with great zest into the amusements of 
 their children, being reminded of the days 
 long since gone by when they too were 
 young, and delighted in the same " childish 
 things." Often have I seen a grave man 
 of gray hairs thus renewing his youth, ap- 
 parently the happiest of the party, and the 
 zeal with which he engaged in the pastimes 
 of the young, gave new life to their spirits, 
 
COUNTRT-WEDDINGS. 149 
 
 and all were as blithe and gay as the birds 
 are on this bright May morning while 1 
 write. 
 
 It was no very rare thing for them to 
 wind up the plays of a merry evening like 
 this, with an amusement which certainly 
 was censurable, and now that I look back 
 upon it I am led to wonder that they should 
 ever venture upon it ; I mean a " wedding 
 in fun^ True, this performance was not 
 attended with any of the solemnities that be- 
 longed to the serious service, but it was 
 taking an improper liberty with a subject 
 and ceremony not to be trifled with, and I 
 am sorry that I ever had a hand in any fol- 
 lies of that sort. Usually a young couple 
 would be found who had no great objections 
 to standing up side by side, and one of the 
 company would repeat some doggerel poe- 
 try, being a burlesque upon a marriage 
 form, which was no sooner over than the 
 whole company would come in pairs to 
 salute the bride ; which performance, by the 
 way, was the real object of the play. In 
 13* 
 
150 CORN-HUSKINGS. 
 
 such sports as these, the youth amused 
 themselves until ten o'clock, which was al- 
 ways looked upon as a late hour to be out. 
 Yet it was nothing strange for them to be 
 so much engaged in their sports as to forget 
 the flight of time, until some of the older 
 ones were obliged to remind them that it 
 was high time to adjourn. 
 
 No space is left for me in this chapter, 
 and it will not do for me to resume the 
 theme again, to say anything of several other 
 *' country pastimes" which were common 
 in the days whereof I am now writing. I 
 doubtless had a taste for those things then, 
 and if any one should say that the frosts of 
 age had not killed the taste quite yet, per- 
 haps I should be compelled to the soft im- 
 peachment. " Corn-huskings" were seasons 
 of great enjoyment among the young farmers, 
 when they came together in the barn and 
 husked the Indian corn which had been cut 
 up by the roots and drawn under cover for 
 the purpose. This was a combination of 
 labor and pleasure which I never fancied, 
 
CORN-HUSKINGS. 151 
 
 and of which I shall have nothing to say. 
 But the great attraction in the way of out- 
 door winter amusement, was sleighing ; 
 parties being often formed of young people, 
 and older ones too, to drive off some twelve 
 or fifteen miles, and back again, to the sound 
 of as many strings of bells as each man 
 could raise for the occasion. And I should 
 like, if I had room, to say something about 
 a " wood-bee" that took place every winter, 
 when the farmers brought each of them a 
 " load of wood" to the good minister; or 
 they would meet at his house with their 
 teams, and proceed to the forest where a 
 lot of wood had been cut ready for his use, 
 and in the course of the day they would 
 haul enough to his door to keep him warm 
 for a year. But all these things must be 
 left untold. I very much fear that these 
 chronicles will be the only authentic records 
 to which posterity can refer for information 
 about my native parish, and it pains me to 
 think how much I must leave to pass into 
 perpetual obhvion. 
 
152 CORN-HUSKINGS. 
 
 Those who have but a slight acquaintance 
 with the ways of the world in a great city, 
 or in our thriving villages, and, indeed, in 
 the country at the present day, will be 
 struck with the contrast which these scenes 
 present. I am arrested painfully by the 
 thought that while light literature, and hand- 
 some books, and popular lectures, and pub- 
 lic meetings, offer intellectual entertainment 
 to our youth, they are also tempted con- 
 tinually by the seductive influences of a 
 wricked world, to indulge in those pleasures 
 that endanger the immortal soul. Here in 
 the city I would live as I would in China 
 or India if duty called me there ; and, 
 therefore, the children whom God has given 
 me, must here be trained for this world and 
 the world to come. But often does my 
 heart turn to that secluded parish among 
 the hills, as the very spot where I would 
 educate my children for eternity. What 
 though the elegances of life were there un- 
 known, and nature was in her own dress, 
 and men and women walked and talked 
 
CORN-HUSKINGS. 153 
 
 without any other rule than virtue and good 
 sense prescribed ! What though there were 
 no such schools of morals as the theatre, 
 and no schools of manners like the dancing- 
 schools of the metropolis ! They had what 
 was better far : the high and holy principles 
 of truth and honesty were taught to them 
 by the fireside, and from the pulpit ; they 
 saw the power and beauty of virtue in the 
 example set before them, and early learned 
 to fear God and keep his commandments. 
 And then it was something to have the 
 character formed in the midst of nature's 
 glorious works ; to have communion with 
 God in the wide temple not made with 
 hands ; to hear and see him, not in the 
 wilderness of men's workmanship here in 
 the city, but in the majesty of the forest, in 
 the simple beauty of the purling stream, 
 and to admire his ever-active goodness in 
 the springing, growing, ripening grain. O ! 
 it is a good thing to get a chain from these 
 to a child's heart ; in after-life the links 
 will hold him fast, and may be among the 
 
154 CORN-HUSKINGS. 
 
 last to yield if be is tempted to become a 
 prodigal. Better to make an bonest man, 
 tbougb be never wear anytbing but a tow 
 frock, than to train a finished gentleman 
 and a finished rogue. The chances are a 
 thousand to one in favor of the country. 
 Our city merchants advertising for clerks, 
 often say, "one from the country would be 
 preferred." They know where to look for 
 good boys. And although many may have 
 thought my account of our up-country plays 
 not sufficiendy refined, I will trust to their 
 good sense to acquit me of any intention to 
 offend their delicate tastes, while I have 
 been yielding to the associations of early 
 life and running back to the days of "Auld 
 Lang Syne." 
 
THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 155 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 Near my father's house lived a farmer, 
 who, for a rarity in that neighborhood, was 
 not a religious man. The family was an 
 irreligious family ; attending church, it is 
 true, and so far as a public example went, 
 paying a decent respect to the means of 
 grace. This they must have done, or they 
 could have had no favor in the eyes of the 
 people among whom they must live. It 
 was never known that anyone of them (and 
 there was a large number of children) had 
 had any convictions of sin or serious thoughts 
 on the subject of religion. They were 
 rapidly growing up ; the parents had be- 
 come old, and almost beyond the reach of 
 gracious influence ; several of the sons and 
 daughters had married, and settled near by: 
 
156 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 and all were apparently indifferent to the 
 concerns of their precious souls. Some of 
 the boys were openly profane ; neglecters 
 of divine worship, and known in the com- 
 munity as bad men. The girls were not 
 gay, but had never made any pretensions 
 to religion ; living in the midst of the gos- 
 pel as if it were sent to all but them. 
 
 Of the three or four girls now grown to 
 womanhood, there was one who was known 
 to be more retiring in her manners, gentler 
 in her disposition, and more inclined to at- 
 tend religious meetings than any of the rest. 
 Yet was it altogether unknown to her own 
 sister© and parents and to every one else 
 that even she was ever concerned about 
 her soul ; and her quietness of manner and 
 occasional seriousness were attributed to 
 the fact that her health was delicate, though 
 there was no thought of her being disposed 
 to any peculiar disease. It was now draw- 
 ing nigh to winter, and as the cold weather 
 increased, it was observed that Sarah had a 
 slight cough and her cheeks, which were 
 
THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 157 
 
 naturally free from color, were slightly 
 tinged with a hue that looked like returning 
 health. But it came and went again, and 
 the cough increased, and Sarah's strength, 
 never great, was failing, and before winter 
 was over she was confined to her bed, the 
 marked and sealed victim of consumption. 
 Mr. Roo-ers had watched her for a lono; 
 time, as he had seen her quietly dropping 
 in at an evening prayer-meeting, or he had 
 detected a fixed attention and apparent in- 
 terest under the preaching of the word, and 
 when it was known that her health was 
 faihng he had sought an early occasion to 
 see her and speak with her of the things 
 belonging to her everlasting peace. As 
 soon as she could converse with him in 
 private, and so privately that none of the 
 family could hear the confession she had to 
 make, Sarah stated to Mr. Rogers that for 
 more than a year past she had cherished a 
 secret and trembling hope that her sins had 
 been forgiven, and that Jesus was her Savior ! 
 Mr. Rogers was astonished, almost as if he 
 14 
 
158 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 had seen a vision. To have found a dis- 
 ciple of Christ in that family was a discove- 
 ry he had never dreamed of making ; and 
 sooner far would he have thought of being 
 met with a cold repulse when he came, as 
 a faithful minister and pastor, to urge the 
 claims of the gospel on one who he feared 
 was insensible both to her duty and danger. 
 He begged her to open her heart with all 
 freedom, and tell him by what way she had 
 been led to cherish such a hope as seemed 
 to be hovering round her soul. Taking 
 courage from the kindness of her good 
 pastor's tone, and finding a sweet relief in 
 the very thought of having one to share a 
 secret which she had never ivishcd to keep, 
 Sarah proceeded at once to say that for 
 many years she had been more or less 
 anxious as to the future : she had listened 
 with attention to the preaching of the word, 
 and had read the Bible when no one would 
 know it : but the family were so much op- 
 posed to religion, that she had shrunk from 
 making any disclosure of her feelings, lest 
 
THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 159 
 
 she should encounter the ridicule and op- 
 position of her friends. Often the words 
 of her Savior spoken to those who were 
 afraid to confess him before men, had fallen 
 with dreadful power on her burdened heart, 
 and she had prayed for strength to over- 
 come the fear, which as a snare had bound 
 her, but hitherto she had not been able to 
 resist the temptation to silence. But now 
 the ice was broken. She had told some 
 one of it, and she was willing and anxious 
 that the world should know that she would 
 be the friend and follower of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ. Her parents, and brothers, 
 and sisters, were struck dumb at the an- 
 nouncement that one of their number wished 
 to be a Christian ! Yet Sarah had always 
 been so mild and patient, silent, and some- 
 times sad, that they were ready to admit 
 they had always thought " Sally was trying 
 to be good," though she had said nothing 
 about it. 
 
 A new scene opened in that house on the 
 day that this revelation was made. Sarah 
 
160 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 was confined to her bed, and symptoms 
 had appeared too plain to be mistaken, that 
 a disease which never rests was silently 
 working its way through the frail tenement 
 that confined her spirit, but a joy and peace 
 of more than earthly lustre and loveliness 
 glowed upon her face, and her tongue, 
 loosed as from a silence of life, was now 
 constantly speaking of the wonderful love 
 of Him who was her soul's comfort and 
 stay. She called her aged parents to her 
 bedside and told them that she was soon to 
 die, that they were soon to die, that the pre- 
 cious Savior who had spoken peace to her 
 soul was also able and willing to forgive 
 their sins and prepare them for heaven, 
 but they must make haste to repent, or they 
 would fail of eternal life. And then she 
 pointed to the skies, and spoke of the judg- 
 ment-seat of Christ, before which she and 
 they would shortly stand, and with all the 
 tender emotion that must swell a dying 
 daughter's heart, as she pleads with her 
 grayhaired parents on the verge of the 
 
THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 161 
 
 grave, she besought them to seek the Lord 
 till they found him, and make sure work 
 for the dread eternity before them. Then 
 she called her brothers and sisters around 
 her, and from time to time, as she had 
 strength to speak, she commended the 
 Savior to them as the guide of their youth, 
 begging them to forsake their sins, and to 
 embrace him as their portion. The cold 
 indifference with which these affectionate 
 appeals were received would have been 
 discouraging to any one but a sister who 
 felt that there was hope for them as well as 
 for her, and as long as life lingered with 
 her, and she could summon strength for 
 the dying effort, she ceased not to warn 
 them of the danger of their ways, and to 
 press upon them the love and compassion 
 of Him whom she had found so precious. 
 
 She lingered along through the winter 
 and the spring ; and in the midst of summer, 
 death came to her chamber and set her 
 spirit free. There was a vast assembly at 
 her funeral ; all the young people from the 
 14* 
 
l62 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 whole country-side assembled ; many of 
 them had long known her and her sisters 
 in the days of their youthful vanity ; and 
 having heard that she had secretly turned 
 from the world to God, they were arrested 
 for a moment by the voice of Providence, 
 and came to follow her remains to the 
 grave. It was at this funeral that 1 heard 
 these facts, and also from Mr. Rogers, a 
 narrative of the death-bed experience of 
 this young lady. Mr. Rogers said that it 
 was one of the most triumphant and wonder- 
 ful scenes he had witnessed in his whole 
 ministry. From the hour that she had 
 found grace to confess Christ before men, 
 he had revealed himself to her soul with a 
 fulness of love that passed all understanding. 
 It was dying grace, displayed with a rich- 
 ness and depth that filled her with joys and 
 rejoicings which no words were adequate 
 to convey. If any regret was mingled with 
 her thoughts of an early death, it was drawn 
 from the fact that she had so long conceal- 
 ed her feelings ; perhaps if she had, at an 
 
THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 163 
 
 earlier day, avowed the Lord to be her 
 God, she might have persuaded those she 
 loved to come with her in the way to 
 heaven. As the weeks of weariness and 
 declension wore away, her soul renewed 
 its strength, and delighted in flying nearer 
 and nearer to the celestial world. Visions, 
 not of fancy, but visions of revealed glory 
 such as the soul sees when sin is dying 
 daily, and loveliness is rising in beauty and 
 strength on the ascending spirit, now opened 
 to her enraptured eye, and she described 
 her glorious views with an eloquence and 
 fervor that filled her friends with wonderful 
 awe ! They knew not what it meant. 
 Their ears had never heard such sounds ; 
 the very walls of the house were strangers 
 to the voice of prayer and praise, and with 
 silent amazement the old parents sat by the 
 side of that dying bed, and, as if stupefied 
 by the sight, beheld their daughter trying 
 her wings for a flight to the throne of God. 
 For many days before her departure, she 
 lived in a frame of mind such as few saints 
 
164 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 attain, and at last, when the hour of her 
 departure came, she cried, " O grave ! where 
 is thy victory ? O death ! where is thy 
 sting ?" and with a smile that would have 
 looked sweet on a seraph's brow, she fell 
 asleep in Jesus. 
 
 The relation which Mr. Rogers gave at 
 the funeral, made a deep impression on the 
 great assembly, and not a few of the young 
 people were awakened to a sense of their 
 own condition. The death of Sarah was 
 thus made the life of others, so that what 
 she had failed to do by her living precepts, 
 the grace of God was able to accomplish 
 through her dying testimony. Her young- 
 est brother had always been known at school 
 and among his playmates, as one of the 
 dullest boys in the neighborhood, and there 
 was a roughness about him that defied all 
 attempts at polish or improvement. Some 
 time after the death of Sarah, it pleased the 
 Lord to awaken this youth to a sense of 
 sin, and to rouse him to a view of his dan- 
 ger. With characteristic bluntness he spoke 
 
THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 165 
 
 of it in the family, and they laughed at him ! 
 They would not believe though one rose 
 from the dead, and they made fun of the 
 seriousness of this lad. He was very tall, 
 and they told him in derision that if he 
 " kept on growing he could get to heaven 
 easy enough ;" when he went to the garret 
 or some retired part of the house to pray 
 for his soul, they would follow him and 
 mock his anxieties, and annoy him so that 
 he could find no peace. He then took to 
 the barn or to the haystacks, and often he 
 would go far away into the woods, and 
 there, where no ear but God's could hear 
 him, he would cry for mercy. And the 
 Lord God heard and answered. His soul 
 was set at liberty, and he rejoiced in the 
 sweet assurance of acceptance and pardon. 
 He suffered persecution for Christ's sake, 
 and took it joyfully. Without any delay, 
 he avowed his purpose to be the Lord's, 
 and in the face of the taunts of those who 
 had not long ago wept at the grave of a 
 pious sister, he stood up before the world 
 
166 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 and confessed Christ Jesus to be his portion 
 and all. From that time he was a decided 
 Christian. It was interesting to observe 
 in him, what has doubtless often been ob- 
 served in others, that divine grace seemed 
 to supply the deficiencies of education, and 
 in some respects even of natural talents. 
 Sure I am that some of the most eloquent 
 prayers, if I may use the terms, to which I 
 have ev^er listened, have come from the fire- 
 touched lips of holy men who had known 
 little of any book but the Bible, or of any 
 school but the school of Christ. It was 
 eminently true of this young disciple. At 
 a single step, he took his place among the 
 most acceptable and useful Christians in the 
 church. When called upon in the social 
 meeting to lead the devotions of the people, 
 he prayed as if the language of prayer had 
 long been familiar : the words of inspiration 
 fell from his lips as fitly and readily, as if 
 he were an old student of the Scriptures, 
 and it was an occasion of frequent remark 
 that such attainments could never have been 
 
THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 167 
 
 expected in such an unpromising youth. 
 It was doubtless a fact that in him, as in 
 the case of his sister, their strong natural 
 powers of mind were never developed until 
 grace was implanted in the soul, and then 
 they shone to the praise of Him who polish- 
 ed them for himself. I can mention a 
 single remark of this young man that will 
 show his spirit and his acuteness. Some 
 years after his conversion, and I had re- 
 moved to a distant place of residence, he 
 came to see me, and very soon I said to 
 him, "Is there anything interesting in the 
 state of religion in the old church '?" — 
 "Nothing," he answered, and I added: — 
 " Are the people united now ?" 
 *' Oh yes ;" said he, " they are all froze 
 together.'^'' 
 
 Many and many a time since that, I have 
 seen a church uniled in the same manner ; 
 not united as a band of brethren, loving one 
 another and the service of a common mas- 
 ter, striving together to build up the cause 
 of Christ and save sinners from perishing 
 
168 THE SECRET DISCIPLE. 
 
 in their sins ; but united as a stream whose 
 waters have been chilled by the frost, and 
 its separate drops have been congealed into 
 one cold mass. O that the Sun of Righte- 
 ousness would shine upon such unions, dis- 
 solve them, and cause them to flow on to- 
 gether to water and fertilize the earth ! 
 
 Another, and widely different I'endniscence 
 rises this moment to my view, and 1 know 
 there will be a lesson of painful interest in 
 its recital. I feel some compunctions about 
 putting the facts on these pages, but my 
 scruples " for old acquaintance sake," must 
 yield to the duty I have undertaken, and I 
 shall therefore write as freely as before. \{ 
 these sketches should ever fall in the way 
 of those who recognise the portraits, my 
 trust is that they will acquit me of any evil 
 design in giving them to the world. 
 
THE FOEGER. 169 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE FORGER. 
 
 In our congregation, but residing at some 
 distance from the church, and in a populous 
 neighborhood, there was a family of more 
 than ordinary intelligence and refinement. 
 The gentleman had been in professional 
 life in a distant city, and having acquired 
 property retired to our pleasant region, and 
 fixed his residence on a large farm which 
 he had purchased. Dr. Jones mingled 
 but little with the people, his tastes leading 
 him rather to the retirement of his books 
 and the society of a few friends who sought 
 him out. His chief pleasure was in his 
 family, consisting only of his wife and 
 daughter, with a nephew of his own name, 
 who had lived with him as his son, and was 
 15 
 
170 THE FORGER. 
 
 destined to be i/i law acknowledged as such, 
 when the young man and the doctor's 
 daughter were old enough to be married. 
 Young Jones had studied law, and having 
 been admitted to practice, he settled down 
 in the village, near the Old White Meeting- 
 house, and entered life with the finest pros- 
 pect of property and honor. He and his 
 cousin had loved from childhood ; both 
 were gifted with charms of person and mind 
 that are not often equalled, and when they 
 were married it was a common remark that 
 " a handsomer couple were seldom seen." 
 Younor Jones was known as an amiable 
 youth, and without those bold and manly 
 traits of character that command attention 
 at first glance, he was silently and gradually 
 winning his way into the confidence and 
 esteem of the community. His father-in- 
 law cheerfully supplied the young beginners 
 with the means of starting in the world, and 
 never did a brighter life lie in the distance 
 than that on which they looked. But Jones 
 found it slow work to get into business. 
 
THE FORGER. 171 
 
 He went into court with no cases of his 
 own to manage ; while others less able than 
 he, were busy, and some of them had more 
 than they could do, he was idle. He began 
 to be discouraged. It occurred to him that 
 he must make a show of business if he had 
 none ; he would live in style and make a 
 dash, and people would then open their 
 eyes and say, "What a smart young man 
 that must be, to get ahead so fast." To 
 carry out this bad purpose required more 
 means than he could command. He drew 
 upon the doctor as far as he could, until 
 the judicious parent counselled him to live 
 within his income, and by-and-by told him 
 with some plainness that he feared he was 
 going too far and running into debt beyond 
 his ability to pay. The young lawyer had 
 by this time got a taste of the pleasures of 
 free living, and had no notion of retracing 
 his steps and coming down. His sweet 
 wife whispered to him that they were not 
 as happy as in simpler days, but he spoke 
 to her of the time when she should shine 
 
172 THE FORGEE. 
 
 as one so lovely ought, and flattered her, as 
 women may be flattered by those they love, 
 into silence. 
 
 Soon the funds were running low. He 
 borrowed where he could, and his credit, 
 based on his father-in-law's known abihty, 
 was sufficient to keep him up, and a sus- 
 picion of his integrity had never crossed the 
 mind of any one. Suddenly, and as if one 
 of the hills had been shaken, it was told in 
 the streets that young Jones had presented 
 a FORGED NOTE at a bank in a city about 
 thirty miles off". The people could not be- 
 lieve it. But the fact was too true, and he 
 had been successful so far in his wicked- 
 ness. He had indeed forged the names of 
 some of the most substantial citizens of the 
 place to a note, he had even written his 
 own father-in-law's name, he had got the 
 note discounted, and when it became due 
 it was of course protested, and sent up to 
 our quiet town to be collected, when in an 
 instant the forgery was discovered. What 
 a blow was this to his young wife : happy 
 
THE FORGER. 173 
 
 in her ignorance of his crime, she had 
 caressed him to the hour of the fatal dis- 
 closure, and then the sympathy of friends 
 would have fain concealed it from her ; but 
 he, the husband of her youth, strained her 
 to his heart, and told her that he was a vil- 
 lain and must fly from an infamous punish- 
 ment that might speedily overtake him. He 
 did fly. It was late in the autumn — I think 
 the latter part off November, when he left 
 his wife fainting at the horrid news his own 
 lips had brought, instead of the kiss that 
 she had been wont to receive, and just in 
 the edge of evening, of a cold, dark night, 
 he started from his house to fly, he knew 
 not whither; he cared not, if he could but 
 get away from himself and justice. 
 
 As soon as it was known that he had fled, 
 the proper steps were taken for his arrest. 
 Yet such was the general feeling of pity for 
 the poor wife that no one was in haste to 
 pursue him. A warrant was however is- 
 sued, and officers despatched who succeed- 
 15* 
 
174 THE FORGER. 
 
 ed, aft^r a while, in overtaking him, and he 
 was brought back for trial. Now was the 
 time to test the strength of principle among 
 our plain people. It would have been a 
 very easy matter to raise the money and 
 pay the note, and perhaps the affair could 
 thus be compromised ; and there were 
 many thoughts of doing something to stay 
 the arm of the law. But it would not be 
 right; that was very plain; and justice 
 must be done, though hearts break. The 
 prisoner was kept in close confinement for 
 several days, while there was some delay 
 in the attendance of witnesses ; and young 
 Jones, watching his opportunity with sleep- 
 less eye, found a chance, in the dead of 
 night, to get out of the house where he was 
 kept under the care of two constables, who 
 had taken turns in sleeping both at a time. 
 When they waked up, their prisoner was 
 gone. The alarm was given, and in a few 
 minutes a number of men weie mounted to 
 give chase. A thought struck one of them — 
 he must have been a man of feeling — and 
 
THE FORGER. 175 
 
 Stopping the rest, he said to them that " he 
 knew Jones would not go out of the village 
 till he had seen his wife ; there was no use 
 in chasing till they had searched his own 
 house." The party therefore proceeded 
 with great caution to the house where the 
 stricken wife still resided, and as they 
 stealthily approached the door, there came 
 a cry of anguish from the chamber, which 
 told too terribly that innocence and guilt 
 were wailing in each other's arms. Not 
 one of the pursuers had a heart to enter, 
 and disturb those lovers in their WTCtched- 
 ness, but quietly surrounding the house, 
 they waited for him to emerge and fly. 
 They were not long waiting. The embrace 
 was too painful to be long ; the guilty hus- 
 band tore himself away from the sheltering 
 arms of her who loved him in his fall, and 
 kissing their first-born that lay in his place, 
 he rushed once more from the home he had 
 cursed, and which he should never enter 
 again. They arrested him but a few steps 
 from the door, so gently that she knew 
 
176 THE FORGER. 
 
 nothing of it, and conducted him back to 
 his confinement. 
 
 Again he managed to escape, and fearing 
 to repeat his visit, he fled to the mountains. 
 They tracked him first through a light snow 
 that had fallen, but he eluded pursuit for some 
 time ; wandering in the woods, sometimes 
 venturing to a farmhouse where he was not 
 known, to get something to eat, but uncer- 
 tain where to go or what to do. It seemed 
 to be a public duty to secure him if possi- 
 ble, and a large number of citizens turned 
 out in a body, and making diligent search, 
 they found him behind a heap of rubbish in 
 the garret of an old house in which he had 
 taken refuge. He had found already that 
 the way of transgressors is hard. In his 
 haste he had fallen repeatedly, and bruised 
 his face and hands ; he had suffered terri- 
 bly from hunger and cold ; and when he 
 was dragged from his hiding-place his 
 whole appearance was so changed that his 
 own acquaintance would scarcely believe 
 
THE FORGER. 177 
 
 that this was the young and handsome law- 
 yer whom they had often seen before. 
 
 His trial came on, and he had no defence 
 to make. He was sentenced to the state- 
 prison for ten years, and with a gang of 
 felons was taken from the county jail, and 
 transported in chains to his solitary cell. 
 His heart-broken wife returned to her fa- 
 ther's house to wear out her worse-than- 
 widowhood, while he who was the author 
 of her misery was to drag out his years of 
 punishment in a gloomy prison. He never 
 lifted up his head after he entered. Now 
 and then an old acquaintance would be per- 
 mitted to look upon him, as he plied his 
 needle, working at a trade, but he gave no 
 sign of recognition. The iron had entered 
 into his soul. His health sunk under the 
 load of ignominy which he felt upon him ; 
 and after five or six years' imprisonment he 
 died a convict felon, in a prison hospital, 
 far from that young wife who would have 
 died for him, or with him. Miserable man ! 
 And such an end ! Yet such is the misery, 
 
178 THE FORGER. 
 
 the interlinking misery, that crime must 
 bring. How many hearts are pierced by 
 that one sting ! How many tears, bitter, 
 burning tears, of mingled grief and shame 
 did that one wucked deed bring from eyes 
 that else would ever have been lighted with 
 love and joy ! It is always thus with sin. 
 It has misery in its train. It makes all the 
 misery there is in this world ; crushes all 
 the hearts, blasts all the hopes, digs all the 
 graves, waters them with tears of anguish, 
 and then stretches itself into the dread eter- 
 nity, and kindles the fires that feed on the 
 soul for ever and ever. Oh, sin, these are 
 thy victories, these are thy stings! 
 
 Why do we seek the works of fiction for 
 stories of exciting interest, when truth so 
 moves the heart? 
 
 But I do not like to leave my reminis- 
 cences at this melancholy point. There 
 were others whom I knew in youth whose 
 history would be read with more pleasure 
 than the sad tale just finished. Do you 
 recollect Dick Ro^^ers, mentioned in the 
 
DICK ROGERS. 179 
 
 first chapter of these sketches? I mean 
 the roguish son of the minister, whom 
 his father took into the pulpit to punish him 
 for playing in meeting, and who straddled 
 the pulpit while his father was praying, and 
 drummed with his heels on the boards ! 
 Yes, you recollect Dick. And perhaps you 
 would like to know what has become of 
 that same boy. I saw him in this city yes- 
 terday, and know his history as well as I 
 know my own — in fact, we have never been 
 far apart. In childhood he was always full 
 of fun and frolic, and as ready for anything 
 in the way of innocent sport as any boy in 
 the parish. At school he sobered down a 
 little, and was wide awake at study, as he 
 was at play. Ambitious and ardent, he was 
 determined to be " up head." At eight 
 years of age he was in the Latin : at twelve 
 he was fitted for college, and Mr. Rogers 
 ventured upon the hazardous experiment of 
 sending him there. In the midst of the 
 many temptations to which he was thus sud- 
 denly and early exposed, it would have 
 
180 DICK ROGERS. 
 
 been nothing strange had he fallen into the 
 snares that are laid for the unwary. Such 
 might have been his fate, as such has been 
 the fate of others, had not the grace of God 
 interposed and renewed his youthful heart. 
 With the same ardor that had marked his 
 childhood, he now desired to consecrate his 
 youth and manhood to the service of his 
 Savior. He studied for the ministry and 
 became a preacher of the gospel. But his 
 health early failed, and, leaving the pulpit, 
 he sought a field of usefulness in the scarce- 
 ly less useful department of the public press. 
 The little Dick Rogers whom I saw on his 
 father's pulpit in prayer-time, less than 
 thirty years ago, is now discoursing weekly 
 through the columns of one of the most 
 " widely-circulated" newspapers in this 
 country, to his hundred thousand readers. 
 He is growing prematurely old ; his brow 
 is wrinkled, and he stoops as he walks, but 
 he laughs just as he did when we were 
 boys. I met him in a bookstore, and he 
 spoke with all the glee of childhood of tliose 
 
REFLECTIONS. 181 
 
 bright sunny days, when " the world was 
 all before us where to choose." 
 
 How widely varied have been the paths 
 by which those early friends of mine have 
 wandered thus far through life ! How many 
 of those paths have already led to the grave ! 
 How few to glory ! There was one fine 
 boy who was my constant playmate ; gen- 
 erous and true, we loved and trusted him : 
 he was the first one from whom I ever re- 
 ceived a letter : that was when we were yet 
 boys, and he was removed to the city to be 
 a clerk in a store. That was thought to 
 be something very great ; a certain passport 
 to independence. He wrote to me a few 
 times while his heart yet yearned for the 
 green hills and forests of the country ; but 
 he found new friends and new pleasures in 
 the city : he ceased to write to me, and I 
 ceased to hear of him. He grew to the 
 verge of manhood, ran a brief career of 
 folly and vice, left his business and lost his 
 character, and died as a fool dieth. This 
 was one ; and then there were others who 
 16 
 
182 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 have left the old town to be leaders in the 
 church and the state ; and many, the most 
 of those who were my companions in youth, 
 are sober, substantial citizens and farmers, 
 tiUing the lands their fathers tilled, and wor- 
 shipping their fathers' God. 
 
MY FIRST GRIEF. 183 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 MY FIRST GRIEF — TAKING IT EASY. 
 
 In the congregation that joined upon 
 ours, but at the distance of several miles, 
 lived. a youth whom I tenderly loved. I 
 have never known any love of the same 
 sort since he left me. We were boys at 
 school together when we first became ac- 
 quainted, and both being of the same age, 
 with similar tastes and pursuits, it was not 
 strange that we should bind us to each other 
 with an absorbing devotion, such as is not 
 felt when the coldness and cares of the 
 world steal around our hearts. George 
 Williams (I write his own name, for I can 
 not bear to look on a fictitious name in the 
 place of his), was a manly boy, and I re- 
 member well that he was always known 
 
184 MY FIRST GKIEF. 
 
 among his classmates as above everything 
 mean or low ; despising such things for 
 their own sake, and seeking to be known 
 and loved as a boy of honor. We studied 
 many of our lessons together, and both 
 being fond of the Latin and Greek, we 
 found mutual, and often intense delight in 
 detecting and admiring the beauties which 
 these classics unfolded to our young eyes. 
 But this was not the true secret of our at- 
 tachment. 
 
 We were both away from home, at col- 
 lege, neither of us yet seventeen years old, 
 when we were simultaneously awakened to 
 a sense of our sinfulness in the sight of God, 
 and together we set out to seek the Savior. 
 Often did we meet, and kneeling down by 
 the same chair, we poured out our hearts 
 in prayer for mercy, and many were the 
 vows we made together that if God should 
 pardon our sins, we would consecrate our- 
 selves for ever to his service, and live to 
 his glory. Those hours of deep distress, 
 when we seemed to be cast off of God, and 
 
MY FIRST GRIEF. 185 
 
 we had not our parents near us to whom we 
 could go with our load of grief, those hours 
 drew us closely to each other's hearts. 
 There we could unburthen our souls, com- 
 pare our emotions, pray for one another, 
 and thus gather encouragement to persevere 
 in seeking eternal life through Christ. We 
 found peace very nearly at the same time, 
 and in all the ardor of new love we devoted 
 our whole souls to God. It seemed as if 
 this were the very beginning of our attach- 
 ment, so new, so deep, so joyous, were the 
 emotions that swelled our hearts when we 
 entered the way to heaven, and together 
 sought and found those pleasures which 
 ripen only under the sunlight of the di- 
 vine eye. 
 
 A few months after this, and while we 
 were yet in the ardor of new converts' love, 
 we returned to our respective homes to 
 spend a vacation of four weeks. One 
 morning I was walking out with a friend 
 about sunrise, and as we were passing along 
 the street he left me for a moment to speak 
 16* 
 
186 MY FIRST GRIEF. 
 
 to a gentleman whom he recognised, and 
 who was travelling by. The young man 
 returned to me, and we resumed our walk. 
 In the course of a few moments he observed 
 casually, that the gentleman with whom he 
 had just been conversing, mentioned to him 
 a very sudden death in the neighboring 
 town, the day before. He said that a young 
 man had been cut down after a few hours' 
 sickness. I asked if he mentioned his 
 name. "Yes," he said, ^^ his name was 
 George Williams." Had a spear pier- 
 ced my heart, the poignancy of the pain had 
 scarcely been more acute. Rather, had a 
 bolt from heaven fallen on my head, I could 
 not have been more stupefied. For a moment 
 I reeled, like a drunken man, and then 
 partially recovering strength, I put my ear 
 close to the mouth of my friend, and asked 
 him to tell me what he had said, and to 
 speak lo2idf for I was not sure that I had 
 heard him aright. He begged me to be 
 calm, and refused to repeat the fact. I sat 
 down on the grass, and in the silence of a 
 
MT FIRST GRIEF. 187 
 
 desolated heart, waited for the storm of 
 passionate grief to pass by. 
 
 Almost twenty years have crept by since 
 that morning, and yet I feel this moment 
 something of the smothering sensations of 
 that hour. The sun was just climbing in 
 the east ; but it was dark, very dark ; and 
 the whole face of nature, a moment before 
 smiling in the charm of a summer morning, 
 was hung with black. I went home, and 
 rushed to my parents' chamber, and throw- 
 ing myself across their feet as they lay in 
 bed, I sobbed out (tears then first coming 
 to my relief), " George Williams is deadP'' 
 In an instant they comprehended the power 
 of my grief, and, rising from the pillows, 
 threw their arms around me. and we all 
 wept together — T for my Jonathan whom I 
 had lost, and they in sympathy with me and 
 the parents who had lost theii' boy. In the 
 course of the day I went up to the funeral, 
 and stood petrified with sorrow over the 
 remains of my dearest friend. He was 
 buried. Night after night he came to me 
 
188 MY FIRST GRIEF. 
 
 in my dreams, sometimes as in the days 
 of our youthful love, and there was nothing 
 to remind me that he was not as in days 
 that were past ; and again he would come 
 to me all clothed in white, an angel from 
 the skies, and would beckon me to follow 
 him ; and touching the strings of a little 
 harp of gold that he held in his hand, as 
 the gentle music fell like the light of heaven 
 on my ravished ear, he would spread his 
 wings and vanish into thin air. Often after 
 such meetings and partings I waked and 
 found my pillow drenched in tears. This 
 was my first grief. It is easy to see that 
 my mind was quite unprepared for such a 
 blow, and that the loss even o( such a friend 
 now, might be borne with more composure. 
 There was no manliness in that sorrow. 
 But it was good for me. O how vain the 
 world seemed to me from that date ! It 
 was an epoch in my life. I felt that every- 
 thing my heart was set on here was so un- 
 certain that I would live for God and 
 heaven. And then, in my folly, I thought 
 
TAKING IT EASY. 189 
 
 I would never love anybody again, for fear 
 they too would die. How soon I got over 
 that, it is needless to write. 
 
 This is a tale of boyish love and sorrow 
 that will be read with various emotions ac- 
 cording to the taste of those into whose 
 hands it falls. There are some who will 
 push it aside as soft and sentimental, while 
 a few will believe me, when I say that it 
 severed the cords that bound me to earthly 
 love, and led me to consecrate every faculty 
 to the Lord, who had bought me with his 
 own blood. 
 
 Taking it easy. — In almost every 
 country town in which T ever became ac- 
 quainted there might be found one man at 
 least, and sometimes several, who take the 
 world so easily that they never give them- 
 selves any trouble as to what they and their 
 family shall eat or drink ; and this indiffer- 
 ence they carry to such an extent that they 
 use no means to provide for their daily 
 wants. Now where a simple-hearted trust 
 in Providence is followed up by diligent 
 
190 TAKING IT EAST. 
 
 industry, we are always pleased to see it ; 
 but in the case of Peter Fish, the careless- 
 ness about this world did not appear to be 
 so much the result of trust in Providence 
 as of constitutional laziness, and such a 
 passion {ovjishing^ that for the sake of it he 
 neglected everything else, and lost his prop- 
 erty while he caught trout. He inherited 
 a handsome farm and a beautiful house, and 
 around him bloomed one of the loveliest 
 families in all our town. His wife was a 
 sweet woman, his daughters were very 
 pretty, and he had a fine boy of my own 
 age ; and with such a family one would 
 think that he had motive enough for diligence 
 in business, to keep them in respectable cir- 
 cumstances, if he had no desire to add to 
 his possessions. But Peter was one of 
 those good, easy souls, who think that every- 
 thing will take care of itself, and there is no 
 need of his taking trouble about it. He 
 took to fishing, and though fond of the 
 water he drank but little of it, unless it was 
 mixed with something stronger. Yet he 
 
TAKING IT EASY. 191 
 
 never drank to excess, according to the 
 pattern of those days. He was a sober 
 man, and everybody liked him. He would 
 go far and stay long, to do any one a good 
 turn ; and if he heard of any one being sick 
 to whom a nice trout would be a delicacy, 
 Fishing Peter, as Peter Fish was universally 
 called, was sure to hear of it and supply the 
 article, with such readiness, too, that it was 
 plain he found more pleasure in giving than 
 receiving. I can see him now, creeping 
 stealthily down the beautiful brook that 
 meandered through the meadows near my 
 father's house, with his fish-basket hanging 
 at his back, a smashed hat on his head, and 
 a trim pole in his hand ; pursuing his prey 
 with an earnest but quiet enthusiasm that 
 Izaak Walton never attained, and with a 
 skill in the use of theflij that the old master 
 of the piscatory art would have envied had 
 he followed him, as I have many a live- 
 long day, to see the speckled, beautiful trout 
 leap from the swift stream anfl catch its 
 barbed hook as if they were glad to fall into 
 
192 TAKING IT EAST. 
 
 the hands of Fishing Peter. He took to 
 me, and I took to him, and we both took 
 to fishing ; and if I could have had my own 
 way about it, I should, in all probability, 
 have given up my time to it, and been a 
 
 fisherman instead of a , but my good 
 
 parents had sense enough to order other- 
 wise, and I was saved from floating down 
 stream with my lazy friend. Peter Fish, I 
 said, was a man of property, and in his way 
 very religious : when he came into posses- 
 sion of a handsome house and farm of his 
 own, he said he thanked God for it ; and 
 when he let his fields lie untilled, or his 
 crops waste for want of attention, and one 
 year after another his possessions slipped 
 away from him by his inattention, and he 
 was at last compelled to see his fair acres 
 passing out of his hands, while he sought a 
 home for his family in a little dwelling that 
 a few years before they would never have 
 dreamed of occupying, even then did this 
 easy soul lift up his eyes to heaven and say, 
 " Blessed be nothing." And, verily, that 
 
TAKING IT EAST. 193 
 
 was about all he had. He finally tried to 
 turn his fishing to some account in the way 
 of supporting his family, and by driving a 
 little business in the line of fishing tackle, 
 he did contrive to earn a trifle. But that 
 was all ; he would often go off for weeks 
 together on fishing excursions, managing 
 perhaps to support himself while he was 
 gone, by his favorite pursuit, but leaving his 
 family to look out for themselves. So he 
 lived, and so he died. I have told his story 
 as a sample of a class of men often met with 
 in the country, who would rather at any time 
 serve their neighbors than help themselves; 
 averse to labor, but fond of doing chores^ and 
 apparently happy and contented, while their 
 affairs are going to ruin rapidly and surely. 
 Industry in the country is the only road to 
 prosperity. A man must rise early and work 
 hard who would make money by the sweat 
 of his brow. I find it hard at that here in 
 the city, where I have more hrow-'Siwe^l than 
 I ever had in the country. 
 17 
 
 'e 
 
194 RICHARD KOGERS'S FIRST SERMON. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 RICHARD ROGERS's FIRST SERMON. 
 
 I MET with Richard Rogers here in the 
 city the other day, and strolHng down one 
 street and up another we found ourselves 
 in the neighborhood of the South ferry, 
 and, tempted by the cool breezes that fanned 
 the bay, we struck across, and were soon 
 wandering toward the Greenwood cemetery. 
 On the way he told me of his first sermon 
 to the old congregation, and I begged him 
 to give me a sketch of his visit, and the 
 heads of his discourse, that I might work 
 them up in the series of "Reminiscences" 
 which I am just drawing to a close. That 
 very night he complied with my request, 
 and from the materials which he placed in 
 my hands, I make the rest of this article. 
 
EICHARD ROGERS's FIRST SERMON. 195 
 
 I have said that Richard was the minister's 
 son, and in the next chapter I shall go into 
 the history of his father's separation from 
 that people ; but, in the meantime, that 
 must be passed over, while we come to a 
 period some years later, when great changes 
 have passed upon the face of things — old 
 people have grown older or passed away, 
 and children are in the places of their 
 fathers. 
 
 After Mr. Rogers's removal from the place, 
 the people called one and another minister, 
 and the various distractions that followed 
 would furnish themes for a volume of histor- 
 ical recollections. At length they settled 
 the Rev. Mr. Luce, a man of singular pow- 
 ers of mind, great pulpit abilities, and so 
 strikingly eccentric in manner and matter 
 as to render him the " observed of all ob- 
 servers" wherever he raised his voice. Sel- 
 dom have I heard a man of more brilliant 
 powers of fancy, united with the severe 
 logic of a philosopher. His sermons were 
 written with beauty, and delivered with an 
 
196 RICHARD ROGERS's FIRST SERMON. 
 
 energy and naturahiess that delighted tlie 
 ear, and seemed to carry the truth directly 
 to the heart. The congregation were de- 
 lighted with him, and he was rapidly gaining 
 a hold upon their affections that promised 
 to be more strong than any pastor they had 
 had since the days of Mr. Rogers. One 
 sabbath, at the close of sermon, it was a 
 bitter cold day in the dead of winter, and 
 the fire in the old meetinghouse served only 
 to rarefy the air within a little, so that through 
 the crevices and windows it rushed in with 
 greater violence from without ; it was just 
 the day for the purpose which Mr. Luce 
 had in his heart, which was nothing less 
 than the destruction of the old house, and 
 the erection of a new one on its ruins ; I 
 say, at the close of sermon, Mr. Luce 
 closed the Bible, and surveying the temple 
 as if he had never seen the building before, 
 his brow contracting as if he were growing 
 indignant at some remarkable discovery just 
 made, he broke out in the following novel 
 strain of pulpit eloquence : — 
 
RICHARD Rogers's first sermon. 197 
 
 ti My grandfather has a barn — " the con- 
 gregation started in their seats at the com- 
 munication of a fact so very probable, but 
 so very strangely out of place ; Mr. Luce 
 began again — *' My grandfather has a barn 
 that is altogether better for a place to wor- 
 ship God in than this house." Amazement 
 sat on the faces of the people. For half a 
 century many of them had worshipped the 
 God of their fathers in that venerable house ; 
 there they had consecrated their children to 
 his service ; there they had heard the words 
 of eternal truth, and learned the way to 
 heaven, and to be told that any man had a 
 barn better than that church, was nearly 
 enough to drive them mad. Mr. Luce 
 paused a moment to see how the first blow 
 would be received, and then proceeded 
 with more calmness to point out the obvious 
 reasons why the congregation should set 
 about building a new church, and that, too, 
 without any unnecessary delay. He was 
 able to make a strong case, and his argu- 
 ments fell like hailstones on the hearts of 
 17* 
 
198 RICHARD Rogers's first sermon. 
 
 the people. They could not resist them, 
 though they would gladly have escaped 
 them. It was plain that the knell of the 
 old church was tolling. After the meeting 
 was out, the farmers put their heads to- 
 gether in little groups as they went for their 
 teams, and discussed the great subject which 
 had so suddenly burst upon their attention. 
 Before they started for their homes it was 
 generally admitted that the thing must he 
 thought of, if nothing more. 
 
 Mr. Luce followed up the success of the 
 first blow, and the next sabbath he went 
 more fully into the matter, preaching on 
 the subject, and, if I mistake not, preach- 
 ing all day on it, that the duty and expe- 
 diency of the project might be brought to 
 bear on the mind with all the power of 
 regular pulpit instruction. In the course 
 of a few weeks the congregation were wide 
 awake, some for, and some, of course, 
 against the enterprise ; and then came the 
 tug of war. There was a little knot of 
 men who always wanted to have their own 
 
RICHARD Rogers's first sermon. 199 
 
 way about the doing and the mode of doing 
 everything, and their dignity was hurt be- 
 cause they had not been consulted before 
 the minister made the first movement ; and 
 a new set of men, who had not been used 
 to taking the lead, espousing the project 
 with great warmth, two parties were very 
 soon formed. The anti-building party 
 threw every obstruction in the way, and 
 this but inflamed the zeal of the other, who 
 pushed on the work, the minister leading 
 the way, and almost every Sunday making 
 a distinct allusion to a barn which was built 
 by an ancestor of his, and which, in his 
 humble opinion, was a better building for a 
 church than that old meetinghouse. 
 
 The old house was torn down, and after 
 a desperate struggle about the site of the 
 new one, some contending for another loca- 
 tion, and some going for two houses in dif- 
 ferent sections of the congregation, the ma- 
 jority detiided to build on the spot where 
 the other had stood, and accordingly it was 
 done. The money was raised, and large 
 
200 RICHARD Rogers's first sermon. 
 
 donations were made of materials, and much 
 of the work was done by bees of the people, 
 and so it came to pass, by one means and 
 another, that the new house, a very neat, 
 spacious, and comfortable edifice, was erect- 
 ed ; and it now stands there to the praise 
 and glory of God. 
 
 I was going to speak of Richard Rogers's 
 first appearance here, when I was led into 
 this digression ; but it was necessary. He 
 told me that it had been a favorite desire of 
 his heart, after he devoted himself to the 
 ministry, to go back to the old place, to 
 stand in the old pulpit where his father had 
 carried him when a boy, to keep him quiet 
 in church, and there to speak of Christ 
 Jesus to the people whom he had grown 
 up with, and toward whom his spirit turned 
 as the needle to die pole. He was disap- 
 pointed in this, for when he arrived in the 
 place, he found that a wonderful change had 
 passed over the people and the whole face 
 of society. The hills were there, and the 
 fields were there ; but many of the people 
 
EICHARD ROGERS's FIRST SERMON. 201 
 
 were not there, and what was more than all 
 to him, the old meetinghouse was not there. 
 He did not know how much he loved it 
 till it was gone. A goodlier structure stood 
 in its place, but it was not the church about 
 which he had run a thousand times in the 
 sports of childhood, and in which he had 
 received the first impressions of the value 
 of eternal things. He said that he felt hot 
 tears falling on his cheeks as he walked 
 over the green, and tried to recall the tall 
 spire and the wheeling weathercock that 
 had been his admiration in days long 
 gone by. He found friends there, and the 
 minister of the place hearing of his arrival, 
 called on him, and invited him to preach 
 the next day, which would be the sabbath. 
 Richard was glad of the opportunity, and 
 had indeed come prepared for the very oc- 
 casion that, had now occurred. 
 
 He went to the house of God at the ap- 
 pointed hour, and it was evident from the 
 appearance of the people that iew of them 
 Tcnew the young stranger who ascended the 
 
202 RICHARD ROGERs's FIRST SERMON. 
 
 pulpit-Stairs. He cast his eye over the 
 congregation, and the sight of his eye af- 
 fected his heart. What a revolution a few 
 years had wrought ! In one respect the 
 change was total : the pulpit was in front 
 instead of the rear of the church, and not a 
 family sat in the same relative position as 
 in years past. He looked from one seat to 
 another, detecting here and there features 
 with which he had once been familiar, and 
 which would generally suggest the name to 
 which they belonged. But there were many 
 missino-. There was the familv of this and 
 that man, but the head was not there ; and 
 there was a pew filled with people whom he 
 had never seen before ; and where could be 
 the family of his old neighbor — he looked 
 over and over the congregation, but found 
 them not ; they had removed, probably to 
 the great west, and their places there would 
 know them no more. Rogers gave me a 
 sketch of his sermon, but I have room only 
 for an oudine of it. His text was in the 
 
RICHARD ROGERS's FIRST SERMON. 203 
 
 book of Zechariah, first chapter and fifth 
 
 verse : — 
 
 "Your fathers, where are they?" 
 
 Everything around us is tending to de- 
 cay. The grass withereth and the flower 
 thereof fadeth. The migiitiest monuments 
 of human power are not proof against the 
 silent touch of time. The fashion of this 
 world passeth away. 
 
 As with the works of men, so with man 
 himself. Everything within him as well as 
 around him, reminds him that he must die. 
 He comes into the world, and spends his 
 appointed time, eats, drinks, and rejoices 
 in the blessings that drop on his path, or 
 mourns among the griefs that are strewn in 
 his way ; and then passes off into another 
 world. His frail body becomes the tenant 
 of a tomb, the food of worms, and his spirit 
 returns to God who gave it. So it has been, 
 and is, with the race of man. Where now 
 are the millions innumerable whose feet 
 once trod the earth ? The nations beyond 
 the flood ? The generations since ? Where 
 
204 RICHARD ROGERs's FIRST SERMON. 
 
 the tribes that once roamed over these hills ? 
 Where the men that first tilled these fields? 
 Your fathers, where are they ? 
 
 You do not feel the power of this inquiry 
 as I do, who for the first time stand in this 
 pulpit and look around me among a people 
 with whom I have lived ; and as my eye 
 searches in vain for many whom I revered 
 and loved, I may ask with the deepest 
 emotion, " Your fathers, where are they V 
 [The good people now saw plainly enough 
 that it was the son of their old minister, 
 and listened accordingly.] 
 
 How painful the ravages of time ! So 
 noiseless is his step that we hear him not 
 as he moves among us : nor when on his 
 swift wing he bears us onward toward the 
 other world, do we heed his flight. But 
 we look around us, and the signs of his 
 power and progress are many and fearful. 
 You must revisit the scenes of your child- 
 hood and youth, after an absence of years, 
 if you would/ce/ the fact that time is on the 
 wing ; you must look among the living for 
 
EiCHARD Rogers's first sermon. 205 
 
 those you knew, and find them not ; you 
 must walk among the tombs and find old 
 familiar names on the head-stones, and start 
 at the thought that their epitaphs are graved 
 before you have heard of their decease, and 
 with such an experience you will sympa- 
 thize with me, coming among you as a 
 stranger, and asking, " Where are your 
 fathers'/" 
 
 They are in their graves. The hoary 
 heads that were an ornament to this con- 
 gregation, whose wisdom was valued, whose 
 precepts were revered, are laid low. The 
 places that knew them once shall know 
 them no more for ever. Their children are 
 now in their seats, w^hile the grass grows 
 on the graves where their dust mingles with 
 its mother earth. 
 
 They are in eternity. Long as the lives 
 of many of them seemed while they were 
 here, they have but just begun to live. It 
 is the mortal only that has been laid in the 
 tomb, and even that mortal shall burst its 
 prison and rise to immortality. Already 
 18 
 
206 RICHARD ROGERS's FIRST SERMON. 
 
 their spirits have begun their flight through 
 infinity, but never, never v^^ill they be nearer 
 the end than now. 
 
 Tliey are in heaven. We thank God 
 that so many of those who have been called 
 from this world, have left behind them this 
 blessed assurance that the world's loss is 
 their unspeakable gain. The elders have 
 joined the elders round the throne. With 
 Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, they walk, 
 and speak, and praise. They are at home 
 with God. The earthly temple of the Lord 
 they loved — here their voices mingled in 
 the worship of the Most High ; now they 
 kneel in the unveiled presence of the Holy, 
 and offer incense on the altar of eternal 
 love. Blessed spirits ! Sainted spirits ! 
 O that your mantles might fall on those that 
 bear your names ! 
 
 And this is a fitting time to speak of the 
 virtues of the men who have gone before 
 us ; their integrity, piety, industry, pru- 
 dence, zeal ! They were men of faith and 
 prayer ; there were giants in former times 
 
RICHARD ROGERS's FIRST SERMON. 207 
 
 here ; mighty, through God, to resist the 
 floods of sin ; mighty to build up the church 
 of Christ; and the strength of their virtues 
 will be felt in generations yet to come. 
 
 [Here follows a glowing eulogy upon the 
 men who were at the head of affairs when 
 the speaker was a boy, and a warm appeal 
 to those who were coming on the stage, to 
 emulate their example.] 
 
 Where our fathers are we soon shall 
 be. Many of us will fall long before we 
 reach the age of many of them. Our friends 
 will mourn over our early graves, and others 
 may struggle on until the half-way house is 
 reached, and die there, and a few may live 
 to have almond-blossoms, the flowers of the 
 tomb, scattered on their heads. But the 
 most of us will die before that time arrives. 
 Let us then be wise to-day ; and while the 
 pulse of life is full of health, let us make 
 ready for the hour when the sudden sum- 
 mons of the Son of man shall come. 
 
 The rest of the sermon is an application 
 of the solemn lesson which the occasion 
 
208 RICHARD ROGERS'S FIRST SERMON. 
 
 could not fail to suggest ; and the young 
 people, the most of whom had been the 
 playmates and friends of the youthful 
 preacher, gave fixed attention as he exhort- 
 ed them to make sure work for eternity. 
 
 But there was something strange in it — 
 it did not seem to be a reality, that one 
 whom they had but a few years before 
 known as a roguish boy, should be so soon 
 transformed into a preacher, and be in their 
 pulpit. One of the elders expressed the 
 general feeling of the people when he ob- 
 served, at the intermission: " Well, I don't 
 know anything he has been talking about : 
 all I know is, that DicJc Rogers has been 
 preaching !^^ 
 
 And he has preached a great many times 
 since ; but I have no thought of inflicting 
 any more of his sermons, and only one more 
 of these sketches, upon tlie reader. 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 " Our minister must be dismissed," has 
 been said by many a parish, when, for the 
 life of them, not one of the people could 
 tell why. The words of heavenly grace 
 have fallen with continued power from his 
 pure and holy hps ; his blameless Hfe and 
 godly conversation have been an ensample 
 to the flock, and the very atmosphere has 
 been fragrant with his piety and his deeds 
 of love; but the feeling has become general 
 that he must be dismissed. This was not 
 the feeling of the people toward Mr. Ro- 
 gers ; but I speak of it as no strange thing 
 among country or city congregations, and 
 there was just enough of this feeling with a 
 few of Mr. Rogers's people to make it ne- 
 cessary for me, as a faithful historian, to 
 18* 
 
210 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 record the facts. Mr. Rogers might have 
 stayed with that people to this day, had not 
 the stern voice of duty called him to another 
 sphere of usefulness ; yet this call came at 
 a moment when the unhallowed opposition 
 of the few, by underground machination, 
 had brought matters to such a pass that it 
 was far more comfortable for him to be in 
 a better place, than to be resisting the at- 
 tacks, and watching the wiles of those who 
 wanted to get him out of their w^ay. It is 
 curious to see how this disposition to drive 
 away a pastor begins and grows. iVs it 
 happened in our old congregation, so it hap- 
 pens often in others. 
 
 One day Mr. Rogers was sitting in his 
 study, very busily engaged in preparing for 
 the approaching sabbath, when one of the 
 most active members of the church called to 
 see him. Mr. Gridley was very kindly re- 
 ceived, and, notwithstanding the good pastor 
 would have preferred to be uninterrupted, 
 he urged his parishioner to take a seat, and 
 very kindly asked after his own health and 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 211 
 
 that of his family. Mr. G. sat down, but 
 seemed to be uneasy ; evidently something 
 was on his mind, and he did not know how 
 to get at it. The pastor again asked him 
 if he was well, and this assured the parish- 
 ioner that his disquietude was apparent, and 
 he might as well be out with the cause. 
 Twirling his hat between his knees and 
 looking down on the floor, he at length 
 mustered courage to begin, and once under 
 way, he was compelled to proceed till he 
 had made out a case. His communication 
 was something after this sort : — 
 
 " I never like to have anything on my 
 mind against a man, without going to him 
 and telling him of it." 
 
 " That is right," said Mr. Rogers ; " the 
 gospel requires you to go to one who has 
 offended you, and make known your feel- 
 ings. What is the matter now?" 
 
 *' Well," said Mr. Gridley, " I do not 
 think it was right for you to preach about 
 me as you did last Sunday, and it hurt my 
 feelings very much. I have been distressed 
 
212 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 all the week, and I thought it was my duty 
 to call and talk with you about it. I sup- 
 pose you know well enough what I mean, 
 and I need not be any more particular." 
 
 " Which sermon do you mean, Mr. 
 Gridley, which you supposed had a special 
 reference to yourself?" 
 
 " Why, the afternoon sermon, of course. 
 It can hardly be that Mr. Rogers has for- 
 gotten it so soon. Everybody noticed it 
 at the time, as I knew by their looks, and 
 several have spoken to me about it since. 
 You spoke of people who go around stirring 
 up strife, and trying to injure others, w^hom 
 they have not the manliness to rebuke in 
 public ; and although it was generally un- 
 derstood that you meant me, I wanted to 
 call and just say that your suspicions are 
 altogether unfounded, and that I have never 
 done anything of the kind. It was very 
 hard for me to be thus pointed out before 
 the whole congregation, and I am sure if 
 you had known me better you would not 
 have done it." 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 213 
 
 Mr. Rogers listened kindly to these obser- 
 vations, which were evidently made in very 
 bad temper; and when Farmer Gridley had 
 made a full end of his complaints, the pastor 
 deliberately remarked — 
 
 " It gives me pleasure to be able to say 
 to you, Mr. Gridley, for your relief in this 
 matter, that in writing the sermon to which 
 you refer, and in preaching it, 1 never once, 
 to my present recollection, thought of you. 
 The instruction was general, but was de- 
 signed to be applicable to all those whom 
 the coat would fit ; and you must allow me 
 to say that 1 do not see how you could take 
 it to yourself, and suppose that others ap- 
 plied it to you, unless there was some pecu- 
 liar fitness in the truth for your case. Per- 
 haps you can explain it." 
 
 No, he could not. He tried very hard, 
 but he was fairly caught, and the most 
 mortifying part of it was that he had been the 
 means of revealing to Mr. Rogers the very 
 thing he wished to deny, and he felt he 
 must now be known, as having been secretly 
 
214 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 at work to undermine the influence of his 
 pastor, while he was mean enough to deny 
 it when his conduct was providentially 
 brought to light. Now he could never 
 forgive himself for the blunder he had made 
 in going to Mr. Rogers ; and, as men never 
 forgive one whom they have injured^ Mr. 
 Gridley was his minister's enemy from that 
 hour. 
 
 The mortified farmer, mad at himself, 
 and more mad at his unoffending minister, 
 went away with a fell and full purpose to 
 do what he had long desired — to drive away 
 Mr. Ro2:ers. Thinkino; over the names of 
 the people, to find those most likely to join 
 him in this work of vengeance, he saw Mr. 
 Vinton coming toward him, and it struck 
 him in an instant that there was the very man 
 for his purpose. Mr. V. was one of the oldest 
 and most influential men in the conc-reo-a- 
 iion. He was more than sixty years of 
 age, and for nearly forty years had been the 
 heading man in all matters of business. 
 Previous to the settlement of Mr. Rogers, 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 215 
 
 he had ruled the people ; his opinion had 
 been law, and his counsel was looked upon 
 as commands, to be followed as a matter 
 of course. The good, easy ministers who 
 had preceded Mr. Rogers, meekly acquies- 
 ced in Mr. Vinton's measures, and thinking 
 it less troublesome to let him have his own 
 way than to attempt to oppose him or to 
 make him keep his place, they had just let 
 him go on according to his own notion ; 
 and as he was in the main judicious in his 
 measures, no great harm was the conse- 
 quence of his officiousness. But a new 
 order of things came in, when the Rev. Mr. 
 Rogers was set over that flock. He had a 
 mind, and will, and way of his own ; and 
 while he rejoiced in the counsel and co- 
 operation of all the good and the wise of 
 his people, he did not, and would not, suf- 
 fer any one else to take the reins out of his 
 hand or assume to be the leader. So Mr. 
 Vinton had to see his influence gradually 
 waning. For some years it went on well 
 enough, for he liked Mr. Roo-ers as well as 
 
216 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 the rest, and not until they differed in judg- 
 ment, and Mr. V. found that the people 
 would listen to the pastor's advice, and 
 adopt the pastor's plans, and would not 
 follow his own, did he begin to think that 
 his day was over. In the great Bridge, or 
 singing-school war, Mr. V. had taken hold 
 with the minister, and their united influence 
 had borne down all opposing forces. Had 
 it been otherwise, the consequences of that 
 struggle might have been more permanently 
 disastrous. But in many minor matters 
 Mr. Vinton had been compelled to see and 
 to feel that the ]}ower was no longer his ; 
 and envy^ one of the most hateful passions 
 of the human soul, took possession of his 
 heart. He actually regarded his pastor as 
 in his way. In meetings of the congrega- 
 tion for the transaction of secular business, 
 he saw that if Mr. Rogers's opinions and 
 wishes were known, they decided the ques- 
 tion, whatever views he might entertain, 
 and the fact was a source to him of inces- 
 sant vexation and anxiety. He wanted to 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 217 
 
 have it otherwise, but the fact that it was so, 
 was the very obstacle in the way of remedy. 
 He hated Mr. Rogers because the people 
 reverenced and loved him, and because 
 they were thus attached, it seemed absurd 
 to think of making matters better for his 
 purposes. But Mr. Vinton knew some- 
 thing of Farmer Gridley's feelings, and, as 
 he saw him driving up in his two-horse 
 wagon, he resolved at once to stop and 
 have a talk. Mr. V. had a very pleasant 
 way of speaking to people whom he wished 
 to conciliate, and slacking his lines as he 
 drew up to the farmer, he gave him the 
 usual salutation with great cordiality, and 
 they were soon leaning over the sides of 
 their wagons in close conversation in the 
 middle of the road. Mr. Gridley let out 
 the result of his interview with the minister, 
 giving as unfavorable a coloring as the 
 thing would admit of, in respect to Mr. 
 Rogers, and hinting that he was far from 
 being satisfied with the explanation he had 
 19 
 
218 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 receiv^ed. Here Mr. Vinton suggested that 
 Mr. Rogers was generally understood in 
 his allusions on the last Sunday, and it was 
 not honest in him now to deny it, when a 
 parishioner went to him in all frankness on 
 the subject. The mortified farmer now 
 began to take comfort. He had not thought 
 that Mr. Rogers might have deceived him, 
 but here was a hint that let him into the 
 secret of the whole matter. Mr. Vinton 
 followed up the impression that he had 
 made, by suggesting that he thought the 
 minister was altogether too overbearing and 
 dictatorial — he would have everything his 
 way or not at all — he would not seek ad- 
 vice, and when it was offered him, he would 
 receive it in silence, and do as he pleased 
 about it afterward. 
 
 *' For my part," said he, " though I 
 have not mentioned the thing out of my 
 own doors, I have pretty much made up 
 my mind that it is nearly time for Mr. 
 Rogers to look out for some other place. 
 I don't like him as well as I used to, and 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGEES. 219 
 
 I guess there's a good many who feel the 
 same way." 
 
 " I do, for one," said the farmer, " and 
 I have been sounding around a little to see 
 how the land lies. Some of the folks think 
 Mr. Rogers is just the best man that ever 
 lived, and they would rather go with him 
 than stay without him. The fact is, the 
 more I talk about it, the more discouraged 
 I get; and I never dared to say anything to 
 you about it, for fear 1 should find you the 
 strongest on Mr. Rogers's side." 
 
 " So you would, if you had talked to me 
 some time ago, but lately my mind has 
 been a good deal worried about it, and I 
 have come to the conclusion that he will 
 be more useful somewhere else. He is a 
 man of talents, there's no denying that, and 
 if he should go where the people are all 
 united in him, he might do a great deal 
 more good than he can do here. Let's 
 talk the matter over among the people, and 
 see whether it is best to do anything about 
 it. By the way, my wife was saying yester- 
 
220 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 day she wanted you and your wife to come 
 to our house to tea. What's the reason 
 you can't come over next week some day 
 and see us? We will get some of the 
 neighbors in, and then we can have some 
 more talk about this matter, which, I tell 
 you, is a very serious business." 
 
 Mr. Gridley agreed upon a day, and 
 bidding his friend " good day," drove home 
 with more of the devil in him than he had 
 felt in a year. He hated his minister, and 
 he had found somebody who sympathized 
 with him in his wickedness, and this eased 
 his conscience and deepened his guilt. It 
 is a long step down hill, when a man con- 
 vinces himself that he is doing God service 
 in sin, or that others think he is. 
 
 The next week a party of disaffected 
 ones, with their wives, talked of the matter 
 over a cup of green tea at Mr. Vinton's, and 
 when they separated it was with the very 
 general determination that Mr. Rogers ought 
 to be dismissed, though for what cause there 
 was not one of them able to say. Not a 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 221 
 
 wrong had he done one of them ; not a 
 sHght had he put upon one of them or their 
 children ; he had visited them as often as 
 he could consistently, though of course not 
 as often as they would like to have him — 
 and what minister ever did ? and if it had 
 been put to them to name any respectable 
 ground of complaint against the pastor, they 
 w^ould have been dumb. But the people 
 (they pretended to themselves) are getting 
 tired of hitn ; and what is the use of a min- 
 ister's staying among a people after they 
 are tired of hearing him preach? It's a 
 great deal better for him to go somewhere 
 else, and for them to have somebody else ; 
 both will be better off; and it's a great pity 
 Mr. Rogers can't see it just as we do. 
 
 In this way the little clique of malcon- 
 tents deceived themselves, and then set 
 about deceiving others. In various parts 
 of the congregation, and on every favorable 
 occasion, they would drop remarks, the 
 purport of which would be, to develop or 
 implant a feeling of unkindness toward Mr. 
 19* 
 
223 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 Rogers ; thus pursuing a systematic and 
 steady course of factious opposition, with- 
 out the least ground for it, in truth or rea- 
 son. Oftentimes we see the same course 
 taken to get rid of a minister, when the only 
 crime or rock of offence which can be laid 
 against him, is that he is growing old. 
 
 *' Is he not a good man?" 
 
 Oh, yes, he is one of the best men that 
 ever lived. 
 
 " Is he not faithful to the people of his 
 charge ?" 
 
 Never was a shepherd more devoted, 
 self-denying, and persevering. 
 
 " Are not his sermons sound and valua- 
 ble, spiritual and edifying ?" 
 
 He is one of the best preachers in the 
 whole region of country. 
 
 " Are not souls converted, and is not the 
 church strengthened under his ministry?" 
 
 Yes, hundreds have been added to the 
 church while he has been the pastor, and 
 the truth can not be denied that we never 
 had a man here who has been more sue- 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 223 
 
 cessful than he as a minister ; but his use- 
 fulness seems to be at an end ; we have had 
 no revival now for three or four years ; he 
 is getting dull and heavy, and the young 
 people are not as well pleased with him as 
 they should be, and on the whole we think 
 it would be better for him and better for 
 us that he should retire. 
 
 *' But where shall he go ? if he is too old 
 to please you who have known and loved 
 him so many years, is it to be supposed 
 that he will be acceptable to a iiew people, 
 who have had no previous attachments for 
 him ? will you turn him out, like a broken- 
 down horse, to die by the way-side?" 
 
 There is no reply to this question. One 
 of the wickedest cruelties ever perpetrated 
 by a Christian people is this expulsion of a 
 pastor because he is growing old. It is a 
 common affair among the Hindoos, when 
 their parents have become so old as to be 
 infirm and helpless, to take them to the 
 river-side, and leave them to perish, and 
 sometimes in kindness they fill their throats 
 
224 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 with mud, and put them speedily out of 
 misery. This is called heathenism. 
 But when a congregation has had a faithful 
 pastor, who has spent the youth, and 
 prime, and strength of his life, in their ser- 
 vice, employing his talents, which in anoth- 
 er sphere would have made him indepen- 
 dent, but in this have brought him no prop- 
 erty to live on in his old age ; I say, when a 
 congregation drive away such a pastor and let 
 him spend his old age in want or in anxious 
 dependence on those who can ill afford to 
 sustain him, the cruelty, inhumanity, and 
 shame of the deed are not less offensive to 
 God than the conduct of the poor heathen, 
 who are *' without natural affection," be- 
 cause they are without the gospel which 
 this Christian people have enjoyed, and 
 w^hose minister they turn away, when the 
 blossoms of the grave begin to whiten on 
 his venerable brow. 
 
 But it was not old age that could be laid 
 to the charge of Mr. Rogers. He was in 
 the vigor of life, perhaps forty-five years 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 225 
 
 old, when the conspiracy was formed to 
 eject him from the parish. He was as ac- 
 tive, energetic, sound, discriminating, clear, 
 and powerful, in his sermons as ever, and 
 as strong in the hearts of the people as at 
 any previous period of his residence among 
 them. And this the plotters found to their 
 cost the moment they began to move. 
 They commenced their operations by gen- 
 tly sounding this and that one, as occasion 
 presented itself, to find on whom they could 
 count when the time for open action should 
 arrive. But it was wonderful to see what 
 a storm they raised at the very onset of 
 their underground career. The old elders 
 rallied around their pastor as if he had been 
 their father instead of being younger than 
 most of them ; and all through the congre- 
 gation, as soon as it was known that there 
 was a plan on foot to dismiss Mr. Rogers, 
 his friends rose in such numbers and 
 strength, and their devotion was manifested 
 by such substantial evidences of sincerity, 
 that it really seemed as if he ought to be 
 
226 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 thankful to his enemies for waking up his 
 friends. But there were not a few who had 
 found Mr. Rogers's strong doctrines and 
 rigid views of Christian duty irksome; some 
 had never forgotten hard feehngs that were 
 awakened when he crushed the opposition 
 in the time of the singing-school snarl ; 
 some had views of liberty for young people 
 in the way of dancing, and the like, that 
 were not approved by Mr. Rogers, and 
 which they could never gratify while his 
 overshadowing influence was felt, and they 
 were willing to join with the party who 
 thought it expedient for Mr. R. to leave. 
 
 However it would please me to followr 
 these men in their manoeuvres, step by step, 
 and expose the little artifices by which they 
 sought to alienate the hearts of the congre- 
 gation, it will lead me into a longer chapter 
 than I could give, and 1 must content my- 
 self with merely stating the results. After 
 the work of undermining had gone on for 
 six months, it was thought that the time 
 had come for a public meeting, to take into 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 227 
 
 consideration the state of the congregation. 
 This was resolved upon, after no Httle fear 
 and trembling on the part of the conspira- 
 tors, and accordingly the people assembled 
 by notice on the sabbath-day. On the day 
 appointed there was a large attendance of 
 the congregation ; many who for years had 
 retired from active service in the church 
 were constrained by a strong sense of duty 
 to be on the ground, to do their part in the 
 hour of trial ; and to show by their votes 
 and voices that they were the friends of 
 their friend. The subject was then mature- 
 ly discussed, and the question proposed for 
 decision whether or not it was expedient 
 that the relation between Mr. Rogers and 
 his people should be dissolved. When a 
 vote was taken it was found that an over- 
 whelming majority were in favor of Mr. 
 Rogers ; especially was this true of the 
 members of the church as distinct from the 
 members of the congregation, or those not 
 professors of religion. The piety of the 
 people was with the pastor. Never was a 
 
228 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 clearer fact. The elders of the church, al- 
 most to a man, stood by him like pillars, 
 and wavered not when the storm raged the 
 fiercest, and men's- hearts were failing them 
 for fear. Some of them never knew till 
 that day how dear their pastor was, and 
 they then resolved that, come what might, 
 they would never give him up to gratify his 
 enemies. Thus ended the first meeting. 
 It strengthened the hands of Mr.^ Rogers, 
 but did not encouras-e his heart. It showed 
 
 a 
 
 him that he had the people on his side, and 
 that he could not be overthrown ; but he 
 knew enough of human nature to under- 
 stand that his opponents having now given 
 public expression to their dissatisfaction and 
 desire of change, would be more active, 
 unscrupulous, and bitter, than, ever; and 
 consequently that his situation must be more 
 and more uncomfortable. This he found 
 to be the fact in his immediate and ultimate 
 experience. His words and actions were 
 misconstrued and misrepresented ; his mo- 
 tives were often impugned ; his good was 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 229 
 
 evil spoken of; his very looks and motions 
 were watched and made the theme of un- 
 generous remark ; he was charged with 
 visiting at this house more than at that ; of 
 showing his partiality in various ways, as 
 if it were a crime in him to love the society 
 of his friends more than that of his foes ; 
 and thus watched by such eyes with such 
 spectacles, it is not strange that every week 
 furnished some new theme for scandal, or 
 that the ingenuity of enemies should invent 
 occasion when none could be discovered. 
 This was not the state of things that the 
 soul of Mr. Rogers could dwell in. Provi- 
 dence had not formed him for enjoyment 
 in the midst of strife, and he had aspirations 
 after usefulness and improvement that could 
 not be realized among a people distracted 
 and contending. 
 
 I believe I have never mentioned the 
 scholastic tastes and attainments of this ex- 
 cellent man, yet my readers will not have 
 failed to perceive that he had a mind of 
 high cultivation and of well-developed and 
 20 
 
230 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 disciplined powers. His early education 
 had been highly finished, and during the 
 years of pastoral duty which had elapsed, 
 he had never suffered his knowledge of 
 elegant literature to pass away. Rather had 
 he, by diligent industry, followed the lead- 
 ings of his early tastes, and made progress 
 in ancient and modern learning ; so that it 
 was impossible for him not to be known 
 among his ministerial acquaintances as a 
 man of letters. And as Providence had 
 not fashioned him for dwelling contentedly 
 in the midst of turmoil and confusion, so 
 now it opened another door of usefulness 
 to which he was led by all the indications 
 necessary to make plain his duty to enter. 
 He sought counsel of his faithful elders, 
 and of his neighboring brethren, and after 
 much prayer and consultation, he came to 
 the conclusion to seek a release from his 
 enffao-ements to his flock. It was a sad 
 hour to many when this was announced 
 from the pulpit. There was weeping over 
 all the church. Those who had been in- 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 231 
 
 strumental in bringing about this result, and 
 who had often expressed a desire for it to 
 come, now felt that it was a solemn business 
 to part a pastor from his people, and jier- 
 haps they should have to give an account 
 for what they had done when they should 
 come to stand before the Judge of quick 
 and dead. 
 
 Others, who had stood by their minister 
 through evil and good report, could not be 
 reconciled to the dispensation. They look- 
 ed upon it as a triumph of his enemies, and 
 said they knew it never would have hap- 
 pened but for the opposition that had been 
 made, and they would not consent on any 
 terms to the dismission. When the " op- 
 position" saw the state of feeling, they 
 made haste to lay down the weapons of 
 their rebellion. They were willing to unite 
 with the other party (or rather with the 
 people), in a request that Mr. Rogers would 
 reconsider his determination, and still re- 
 main with the congregation where he had 
 been so long and eminently useful. But 
 
232 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 this was repentance too late. It is a dan- 
 gerous experiment for a pastor to come 
 back to a people from whom he has parted 
 with divided feelings : still more hazardous 
 is it for him to stay after the opposition is 
 organized and a decided stand assumed, 
 and he has once yielded to its power. 
 Then they have learned their strength , 
 they feel that they can never enjoy the pas- 
 tor's confidence again, and of course they 
 can never cordially sustain him. They are 
 ready on the slightest occasion to make war, 
 and nothing can be looked for but repeated 
 contention and trouble. Mr. Rogers knew 
 all this, and having marked out his line of 
 duty, was not easily to be tempted to take 
 any steps backward. He told them plainly 
 that there were reasons altogether indepen- 
 dent of their difficulties why he should pre- 
 fer to enter upon the new field of labor that 
 opened before him, and when he consider- 
 ed the divided state of the congregation, he 
 thought it for their interest to have a pastor 
 in whom they could all unite, and who 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 233 
 
 might be more useful than he had ever been. 
 He therefore resisted all their entreaties to 
 reconsider his intentions, and announced his 
 fixed purpose to bid them farewell. 
 
 To one who has read this chapter it would 
 be a curiosity to see the resolutions which 
 were now adopted, unanimously, by the 
 old congregation, expressive of their ardent 
 attachment to their pastor, their great regret 
 in parting with him, and their fervent desires 
 for his future happiness. This and his 
 farewell sermon, which came in connexion 
 with these resolutions, were the closing 
 scenes in this drama, and Mr. Rogers, after 
 nearly twenty years of most unremitting 
 and laborious service, retired from the field. 
 How many were the changes that had passed 
 over that people since he came among them ' 
 He had buried nearly one generation ; those 
 who were children when he came there had 
 now grown to be the active members of the 
 congregation ; and many who were then 
 pillars had fallen. It was a melancholy 
 duty to resign such a charge, but he had 
 20* 
 
234 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 the blessed satisfaction of knowing that he 
 had delivered his soul of the blood of his 
 people ; that he had declared the whole 
 counsel of God, and that he had been the 
 means of turning many to righteousness, 
 whom he hoped to see again in the diadem 
 of his Redeemer. There were floods of 
 tears, and many hearts that would, but 
 could not, weep when Mr. Rogers took his 
 leave-. Those who had been converted 
 under his preaching, and those who had 
 grown up with him, and in fact it was hard 
 to say which class more than another, clung 
 to him as to a dying father, when the time 
 of final separation came. Such ties ought 
 never to be sundered. The pastoral rela- 
 tion, like the marriage bond, should bind 
 till death doth part. Unfaithfulness on the 
 part of the pastor or people may render a 
 divorce expedient and justifiable, but the 
 unfaithfulness is criminal, and great is the 
 responsibility which they incur who stir up 
 strife in a happy and united congregation, 
 and render the removal of the pastor a mat- 
 
THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 235 
 
 ter of necessity, with all its disastrous and 
 deplorable results. 
 
 If we should follow this people a few 
 years further on in their history, we should 
 find the Hving and terrible consequences of 
 driving away a minister. No sooner had 
 Mr. Rogers been dismissed than the people 
 began to look out for a successor. Two 
 parties were formed, mainly divided by the 
 same lines as in the last war ; and the man 
 whom one party took a fancy to, was sure 
 to be opposed by the other. And however 
 desirable the man might be who should 
 secure a majority of voices in his favor, he 
 could not be expected to accept a call in 
 the face of a most determined and powerful 
 opposition. The meetings that were called 
 to discuss and determine the merits of rival 
 candidates for the pulpit, were stormy, and 
 dreadful in their influence on the feelings 
 of those engaged in them. Bitter and last- 
 ing alienations among/rzew J5 were the fruits. 
 In fact, it went on from bad to worse, until 
 persons of the same family connexion -were 
 
236 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 divided, and unhappy controversies were 
 engendered, the extent of which, of course, 
 could never be known. At last, after many 
 trials, a man was found who expressed his 
 willingness to accept a call made out by a 
 part of the congregation, notwithstanding the 
 protest of a very large minority. More 
 than half of the church-members were op- 
 posed to his settlement ; nearly the whole 
 bench of elders requested him not to accept 
 the call, and an earnest written remonstrance 
 was laid before the ecclesiastical body that 
 was convened to instal him. But he had a 
 majority of votes in his favor, and he hoped 
 to overcome the opposition by fidelity and 
 wisdom. I cast no censure on him. He 
 meant it for good, and doubtless thought it 
 would be a blessed thing to succeed in 
 restoring harmony to a distracted people. 
 But he failed. The opposition embarrassed 
 him, so that he could not even do himself 
 justice. Sometimes he scarcely knew what 
 he was about when he went into the pulpit, 
 so distressed was he at the thought, that a 
 
THE DIS3IISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 237 
 
 large portion of his hearers were wishing 
 •him a thousand miles away. On one oc- 
 casion he gave out his text from the " gos- 
 pel according to Acts," and proceeded 
 with his sermon without perceiving his 
 blunder ; a fact which shows the confusion 
 of mind he often experienced when coming 
 before his people. He stayed but a little 
 while and left. Then the battle was to be 
 fought over again. And stoutly fought it 
 was. Another and another was called, and 
 one minister would stay awhile and then 
 quit, and then another would try. Some 
 of the people wrote to Mr. Rogers and 
 begged him to come back, assuring him 
 that he and he only could make a permanent 
 peace. He did return to labor a little 
 season with them, and they hung on his 
 lips as if an angel had come down from 
 heaven, but his duties would not suffer him 
 to entertain the thought of again resuming 
 the charge of that once happy and still in- 
 teresting people. 
 
 Years have now rolled away, and God 
 
238 THE DISMISSAL OF MR. ROGERS. 
 
 has been pleased to bless them with faithful 
 pastors, whose labors have been attended 
 with the Holy Spirit, and the wounds of 
 former years have been in a great measure 
 healed. I do not believe that the congre- 
 gation has ever recovered fully from the 
 dissensions and distractions that followed 
 Mr. Rogers's removal, but many of the 
 actors in those scenes have passed away, 
 and the furrows of division have been over- 
 grown, so that a stranger's eye would not 
 detect the marks of former ruin. But God 
 has marked them and will never forget. 
 Whosoever offends one of his people must 
 answer for it ; and the day of reckoning 
 hastens on. 
 
 And now I leave these reminiscences ; 
 grateful to those who have followed me 
 through, and far beyond my original intention, 
 while many things which I purposed to re- 
 cord have been overlooked. Mingled mel- 
 ancholy and pleasure have been mine, as 
 I have followed the wanderings of my heart 
 among the scenes of childhood and youth ; 
 
CONCLUSION. 239 
 
 and when the forms of those dear to me then 
 have returned, it has been with a sadness 
 that I can hardly dare to speak of here ; so 
 many of them are gone, to come back never. 
 I must be growing old. Those who were 
 young when I was young are growing old ; 
 I see it in their looks, and they tell me so. 
 It must be so with me. I ought to know it, 
 if it be true. 
 
 " Naught treads so silent as the foot of time, 
 Hence we mistake our autumn for our prime. 
 'T is greatly wise to know before we 're told 
 The melancholy truth that we are growing old." 
 
 Shall I ever go back and renew the as- 
 sociations which for so many years have been 
 sundered ? Should I find many, or any 
 there, who would greet me as an ancient 
 friend, and welcome me back again to the 
 scenes of earlier days? Ay, well do I 
 know that some have not forgotten me, and 
 I would love to meet them and talk of days 
 long gone, and feel young again when the 
 scenes of youth were thus revived on the 
 tablets of an unforgetting heart. 
 
240 CONCLUSION. 
 
 But youth is gone, and childish things 
 are put away. The stern hand of duty 
 urges us on in life's great work. It would 
 be vastly pleasant to be ever young, and 
 never feel the pressure of the overmastering 
 hand oiduty in the toils that manhood brings. 
 But this is not our rest : — 
 
 '• There's rest in heaven. I'd wish to live 
 So that ray tomb might tell, 
 The highest praise that friends could give, 
 That I had labored well." 
 
 It may be, doubtless it will be, that those 
 friends of my youth will be met no more on 
 earth, but there is joy in the thought, that 
 with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, the 
 redeemed of the Lord shall meet, and go 
 no more out for ever. In that congrega 
 TiONj kind readers, may we all be found ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 RECENTLY ISSUED 
 
 BY ROBERT CARTER, 
 
 BOOKSELLER AND PUBLISHER, 
 58 CANAL-STREET, NEW-YORK. 
 
 AND THOMAS CARTER, PITTSBURG, Pa. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE GREAT RE- 
 FORMATION in Germany, Switzerland, &c., in the Six- 
 teenth Century. By J. H. Merle D'Aubign^, President of the 
 Theological School of Geneva. 4th edition : 3 vols. 12mo. 
 " In no other book have we such facts and anecdotes, such living scenes and 
 moving talks of the glorious reformer. This is exactly the book which the 
 age requires. It holds up the reformation as to its necessity, its incipient 
 characteristics, its advancing claims, its ultimate bearings, with all the vivid- 
 ness of genius curbed by a rigfd adherence to historic truth." 
 
 THE NA^ORKS OF THOMAS CHALMERS, 
 D.D. and LL.D. 7 vols. 12mo. ^ 
 
 i/ONTENTS. — Vols. 1 and 2, on Natural Theology; 3 and 4, on the Miraculoru 
 and Internal Evidences of Christianity ; 5, Moral and Mental Philosophy,— 
 this volume has never before been published ; 6, Commercial Discourses,— 
 one half of which is entirely new ; 7, Astronomical Discourses, — the on« 
 half of which has never before been published. 4th uniform edition. 
 
 ** The writings of Chalmers are so well known and appreciated in this coun- 
 try, that it is needless for us to applaud their Merits. This edition, it should 
 be noticed, is not a reprint of the author's works already known in this coun- 
 try. His Astronomical and Commercial Discourses have not only been care- 
 fully revised, but nearly doubled in number by the addition of new ones ; his 
 Moral Philosophy is entirely new here ; his Christian Revelation and Natural 
 Theology may be said to be almost new, as they are re-written and enlarged ; 
 to that the whole series is offered as having peculiar claims on the literary and 
 religious public." — Presbyterian. 
 
 REV. HUGH WHITE'S MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON PRAYER, from the 10th Dublin edition. 18mo., mu». 
 
 lin. 2d edition. 
 
 *' This is a plain, sensible, and practical treatise, comprising meditations on 
 the importance, nature, subject and spirit of prayer. The author seems to be 
 impressed with the importance of his theme, and communicates his thought* aa 
 if he wished them to benefit. We like the spirit, style, and doctrine of th« 
 book, and can therefore recommend it, in hope it may teach men to pray with- 
 out ceasing, and in an acceptable manner." — Presbyterian. 
 
 ** A word fitly spoken is Uk« apples of gold in delicate frame-work of silTt», 
 and the volume before us has the qualification of fitness in relation to all tha 
 circumstances of the age in which it is published. 
 
 C H R I ST O U R L ANA^ . By Miss Caroline Fry, author 
 of " Christ our Example," the " Listener," dec. &o. 12ma 
 
THE COMPLETE NA^ORKS OF BISHOP 
 
 BUTLER, containing Analogy of Natural and Reveeiled Re- 
 ligion, Dissertations, Sermons, Correspondence with Dr. Clarke, 
 &c. &c. To which is prefixed, an Account of the Character 
 and Writings of the Author. By Dr. Halifax, Bishop of Glou. 
 cestcr. 1 vol. 8vo. Splendid edition on pica type and fine 
 paper. 
 
 *' We think the religious public must welcome with gratitude the appear- 
 mce of this volume, containing' the writings of so distinguished a logician and 
 divine. The Analog-y of Butler enjoys a reputation scarcely second to any 
 other book than the Bible : to praise it would be a work of supererogation. 
 As a specimen of analogical reasoning, we suppose it has never been equalled ; 
 and its influence, in promoting ministerial efficiency, can hardly be over-rated. 
 Some ministers are in the habit of reading it, care full}', once every year. The 
 Analogy occupies about one half the volume ; the remainder consists of Dis- 
 •ertations and Sermons on important subjects, and may be read with pleasure 
 and profit. The volume contains more than 600 pages, and is furnished at a 
 very low price." — Xew England Puritan. 
 
 '• The Dissertations and Sermons are distinguished by the same' greatness 
 of mind which spreads its&lf over the Analogy. His views of conscience, and 
 kis illustrations of the subjective influence of the love of God, are the product 
 of deep reflection. He follows out, with a cool and careful hand, the great 
 principle of fitness, comparing things with each other, and demonstrating 
 their relative importance, and the propriety, beauty, and grandeur of the e«- 
 sential truths in morality and religion." — N. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 JAY'S MORNING EXERCISES FOR THE 
 CLOSET, for Every Day in the Year. New edition, 2 vols, 
 in one, 12mo. 
 
 JAY'S EVENING EXERCISES FOR THE 
 
 CLOSET, for Every Day in the Year. New edition, 2 vola 
 in one, 12ino., bound uniform with the 3Ioming Exercises. 
 
 THE ENTIRE WORKS OF THE REV. H. 
 
 SCOUGAL, consisting of" the Life of God in the Soul," &c 
 &c. 1 vol. 18mo. 
 
 BAXTER'S C A LLTO THE UNCONVERT- 
 ED, to wliicli arc added '* Now or Never," " Fifty Reasons," 
 &c., with an Introductory Essay by Thomas Chalmers, D.D. 
 18mo. 
 
 SORROWING YET REJOICING; or, Narra- 
 tive of Recent Successive Bereavements in a Clergyman's 
 Family. By the Rev. Alexander Beith, Stirling. 4th edition, 
 32mo. 
 
 " It is written with the utmost simplicity, and is pervaded throughout by a 
 tone of the most evangelical devotion. Its tale is told in language the most 
 ■criptural and touching, whilst it gives an index to ^he happy and composed 
 state of the author's own feelmgs, amid the most trying, and, to nature, over- 
 whelming bereavements. It is peculiarly valuable, as presenting the mos* 
 ■triking examples of the work and power of grace on the youthful and the in- 
 fant mind, and the process by which Jesus sanctifies and purifies the souls at 
 tlM lambs of 'lis flock, before thej are taken to be trith him in glory."— Guar. 
 
8 
 
 THE LIFE, \/VALK AND TRIUMPH OF 
 
 FAITH. By the Rev. W. Romaine, A.M. 12mo. New edi. 
 tion, muslin. 
 
 " Many a good old believer will have his heart cheered and his soul comfoi*» 
 •d by the republication of this book. — The truth drops from his pen like man* 
 na. His conceptions are remarkably clear, and his style simple and scrip- 
 •oral. His own life by faith enabled him to write so well for the edification 
 of others." — Baptist Advocate. 
 
 " Here are three distinct treatises on the lame general subject, to which 
 •vangehcal Christians of every denomination, during nearly three quarters of 
 a century, have united in awarding the highest praise. — They indicate not 
 only a most intimate acquaintance with the Bible, but a rare knowledge of the 
 workings of the human heart, and are at once full of instruction, admonition 
 and consolation. The most advanced Christian cannot fail to read them with 
 
 Erofit, and the young Christian will find them among the safest guides and 
 est helps in the religious life, which are to bo found any where out of th« 
 Bible." — Albany Daily Advertiser. 
 
 THE RETROSPECT; or Review of Providential 
 Mercies, with Anecdotes of various Characters. By Aliquis, 
 formerly a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, and now a Minister 
 in the English Church. From the 18th London edition 2d 
 edition, lomo. 
 
 " This volume is one of uncommon interest. While the reader is enchained 
 by the narrative, which it full of incident, in a style simple and lively, he find* 
 it eminently conducive to the cultivation of a devotional spirit, and to an ad- 
 miring view of the methods of Divine providence and grace. We remember 
 this work a few years since, with great interest, since which we have not met 
 with it. We have glanced over the pages of this editicn with renewed great 
 pleasure. The great popularity of this volume app^^rs from the large number 
 of editions through which it has passed in Great Britain in a short number of 
 years, having now reached the 17th edition, and proofs of its usefulness have 
 not been wanting. We can assure our readers that there are few works of 
 the kind so deeply interesting, or so well adapted to religious edification. We 
 cordially recommend it." — Christ. Intell. 
 
 THE MARTYR LAMBj or Christ the Representa- 
 tive of his People in all aores. By F. W. Krummacher, D.D., 
 author of " Elijah the Tishbite," &c. 1 vol. 18mo. 3d ed. 
 
 " Our author is characterized by a glowing and imaginative style, which 
 •eems to be the expression of a heart warmed by piety, and susceptible of the 
 tenderest emotions. He displays a happy tact in developing, in the most pleas- 
 ing manner, the circumstances of a scriptural incident or character, and of 
 deriving from it practical lessons." — Presbyterian. 
 
 " It is seldom that the doctrines of grace are set forth in a more florid man- 
 ner, than in this work of the excellent Krummacher. We find here the es- 
 sence of the gospel presented to the mind with great originality and warmth. 
 It is a book which we could freely put into the hands of all Christian readers." 
 '—BiblicaZ Repertory and Princeton Review. 
 
 THE KEY TO THE SHORTER CATE- 
 CHISM. Containing Catechetical Exercises, a Paraphrase, 
 and a New Series of Proofs on each Question. New edition. 
 ISmo 
 
OLD HUMPHREY'S OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 3q edition. 1 vol. 18mo. 
 
 " It is a rare thin<T, in these book-making days, to meet with such aconden- 
 ■ation of truth — with such an amuunt of wisdom in so small a compass, adapt* 
 •d to men of all a.ges, conditions and characters, and fitted to produce alastuaj 
 impression on every mind that conies in contact with it." — Boston Recorder. 
 
 *' Short and readable articles, containing shrewd observations and ju»t senti- 
 ments." — Presbyterian. 
 
 " Old Humphrey is a popular writer in England ; his works have been pub- 
 lished by the London Religious Tract Society, and have been eagerly sought. 
 The rich vein of religious toit that runs through every page, and the strong, 
 plain, common sense that attends everything he utters, commend hii writings 
 to the popular taste ; and happily please while they greatly profit the reader." 
 —New-York Observer. 
 
 OLD HUMPHREY'S ADDRESSES. Bythe 
 author of " Old Humphrey's Observations." 2d edition, 18mo. 
 
 " It consists of a number of short papers on a great variety of subjects, 
 written in a devotional spirit, and with great sVirewdness, good sense, and 
 quiet humour. It is, therefore, a very pleasant book." — Biblical Repertorj 
 and Princeton Review. 
 
 " They have a style decidedly their own, quaint, pithy, pointed, sententl 
 ous, lively and popular; but their chief excellence is the constant and su* 
 cessful effort of the author to draw a moral from every thing he meets " — 
 New-York Observer. 
 
 "We recently noticed Old Humphrey's Observations as a very entertaininj 
 Tolume, and the Addresses exhibit the same point, innocent humour, and sound 
 instruction. We can give our readers no general idea of the contents where 
 Ihere is so much variety, but advise them to buy and read." — Presbyterian. 
 
 COMFORT IN AFFLIOTION : A Series of Me- 
 > ditations. By the Rev. James Buchanan, one of the Ministers 
 
 of the High Church, Edinburgh. From the 9th Edinburgh 
 
 edition. 1 vol. 18mo. 
 
 " The blessed results of affliction are treated with peculiar force of argu- 
 ment, and felicity of expression — strong in scriptural statements of divine 
 truth, and rich in scriptural sources of divine consolation — in a most valuable 
 work, entitled ' Comfort in Affliction,^ by the Rev. James Buchanan, — which 
 I would affectionately recommend to every Christian mourner who desires to 
 drink freely of the refreshing streams which the Fountain of all Comfort — the 
 Word of God, supplies ; for it is from this sacred source the pious and talent- 
 ad author of this excellent work derives ' Comfort in Affliction,' which his 
 pages so eloquently and attractively set forth." — Rev. Hugh White of Dublin. 
 
 LIVE NA^HILE YOU LIVE. By the Rev. Thomas 
 Griffith, A.M., Minister of Ram's Episcopal Chapel, Homer- 
 ton. 18mo. 
 
 " We never heard before of the author of this little book, but we expect to 
 hear of him again, as we cannot believe that such a pen as he holds will ht 
 suffered to remain unemployed. The work is divided into five chapters — 
 *Life a Pilgrimage,' 'Life a Race,' ' Life a Conflict,' ' Life a Blessing,' 'Life 
 a seed time for Eternity.' Not only is the general conception of the work 
 exceedingly happy, being somewhat of that pithy and striking character for 
 ■which Jay^s writings are so remarkable, but the whole train of thought is ia 
 beautiful harmony with the plan ; the style ishighly polished, the spirit deep- 
 ly evangelical, and the tendency quickening, elevating, comforting. It may 
 very profitably occupy an hour or two of any person's leisure, who reads for 
 the gratification of a refined taste, for the cultivation of a religious sensibility, 
 jr for ixnprovemcBt in the Christian life." — Albany Daily Advertiser. 
 
THE HISTORY OF MICHAEL KEMP, 
 THE HAPPY FARMER'S LAD. A Tale of Rustic Life, 
 illustrative of the Spiritual Blessings and Temporal Advantage* 
 of Early Piety. By Anne WoodroofFe. 2d edition. 18mo. 
 
 " A capital story is here told ; a tale of rustic life, illustrating the profit of 
 godliness for this life and that to come. We have been reading it with deep 
 interest, and commend it cordially." — New-York Observer. 
 
 " Thoroughly and intently have we read this book, ' because,' as Talbot 
 ■aid of Boswell's Life of Johnson, ' we couldn't help it.' We were struck 
 ■with the ingenuous disposition and firm principles of Michael, and we wished 
 to see how they would bear him through trying scenes. In other words, our 
 feelings became so intently but agreeably absorbed, that we not only traced 
 Michael through a book of 250 pages, but if there had been one or two mora 
 Tolumes we fear that we would have perused them. So much for the inter- 
 est which the story excites ; the other merits of the book are not inferior."— 
 Baptist Advocate. 
 
 THE CROOK IN THE LOT; or a Display of the 
 Sovereignty and Wisdom of God in the Afflictions of Men, 
 and the Christian's deportment under them. By the Rer. 
 Thomas Boston. 18mo. 
 
 *' Boston is well known as one of the strongest Calvinistic writers, and tha 
 Tolume before us bears the marks of his vigorous mind, and the fruits of hit 
 deep and evangelical piety. It is accompanied by a warm recommendatio« 
 from the Rev. Dr. Alexander, Princeton." — New-York Observer. 
 
 A TRIBUTE OF PARENTAL AFFECT ION 
 
 to the Memory of my beloved and only Daughter, Hanneih 
 Jerram, with a short account of the last Uhiess and death of het 
 elder Brother, Charles Stranger Jerram. By the Rev. Cheurlea 
 Jerram, A.M., Vicar of Chatham, Surrey. From the 5th Lon- 
 don edition. 18mo. 
 
 *' This book is a delineation of the effects of early and eminent piety, dra^m 
 by a parent's hand, with all the tenderness of yearning solicitude. This cir- 
 cumstance commends it at once to our sympathies, and is also, to some extent, 
 ft guaranty of real value." — Christian Watchman. 
 
 " We regard this little book with much favour. The dying scene is moit 
 feelingly portrayed, and -the reader, if his better sensibilities be not blunttd, 
 irill be constrained to weep with those that weep." — Presbyterian. 
 
 D E C A P O L I S ; or, the Individual Obligations of Christiana 
 to Save Souls from Death. By David Everard Ford. From 
 the 6th London edition. 
 
 '* This book is an exhortation to Christians, and Christian ministers, to ex- 
 ercise greater faithfulness in saving souls from eternal death. We have read 
 it with much pleasure, and we hope with some profit. It is adapted to the 
 age in which we live — an age in which, with the bustle, excitement, and 
 worldliness surrounding us, the Christian needs something to direct his atten- 
 tion to those subjects which will add to the lustre of his crown of rejoicing ia 
 the kingdom of glory. And what is there so well calculated to do this as a 
 consciousness that we are co-operating with the Saviour of sinners in redeem- 
 ing a world lying in wickedness ? The book is most beautifully got up ; and 
 we could wish that it might be read and pondered by every one who indulges 
 a hope that he is a Christian." — New- York Evangelist, 
 
9 
 MEMOIR. OF THE. REV. CH A R LES .N ISBET, D.D. 
 
 late President of Dickinson College, Carlisle, By Samuel 
 
 Miller, D.D., Professor in the Theoloorical Seminary, Pri«ce- 
 
 ton, New-Jersey. 1 vol. 12mo., with Portrait. 
 
 *' We have been much gratified at the appearance of this work. It forms a 
 Bioft valuable addition to the Presbyterian Biography of our country. Dr. 
 Nisbet distinguished alike by his own personal acquirements in literature, 
 »nd his devotion to the cause of sound learning', was deserving of a lasting re* 
 membrance ; and yet few had the opjiortunity of knowing much of his true 
 character and services, until the appearance of this interesting memoir. Th« 
 fidelity and excellence with wliioh the work is executed, may be concluded 
 from the name of the biographer." — Presbyterian. 
 
 LIFE AND DEATH OF REV. JOSEPH ALLEINE. 
 
 A.B., author of an " Alarm to the Unconverted," «fcc. Writ- 
 ten by Rev. Richard Baxter, his widow, Mrs. Theodosia AI 
 leine, and other persons. To which are added liis Christian 
 Lectures, full of Spiritual Instruction, tending to the promoting 
 of the Power of Godliness both in Persons and Families. 
 With a recommendatory Preface by Alexander DufF, D.D., 
 one of the Church of Scotland's Missionaries to India. 1 vol. 
 12mo. 
 
 MEMOIR OF MRS. MARY LUNDIE DUNCANj 
 being Recollections of a Daughter, by her Mother. From 
 the 2d Edinburgh edition. 12mo. 
 
 *' Deeply interested have we been in this memoir of one of the most lovely 
 of her sex — a woman whom God had adorned with all that comeliness of per- 
 •on, richness of intellect, sweetness of disposition, and above all, with thoso 
 Christian graces, which, when blended in harmonious proportions, form the 
 most lovely object of coiiteinplatiim out of heaven. Something must be allow- 
 ed for the partiality of a mother's love aiid a hu.sband's devotion, but beyond 
 the testimony of these interested witnesses, we have here the evidence in her 
 own walk and conversation, in her life and writings, and in the letters of 
 others whose happiness it was to know her ere she left this for a more conge- 
 nial world, that Mary Lundie Duncan was all that parental, filial or conjugal 
 affection could desire ma daughter, mother or wife." — New- York Of/server. 
 
 THE JUBILEE MEMORIAL, being the Sermons, Meet. 
 ings, Presentations, and full account of the Jubilee commemo- 
 rating the Rev. Wm. Jay's Fifty Years' Ministry at Argyle 
 Chapel, Bath. 
 
 " The name of liev. Wm. Jay is very precious to thousands in this countrf 
 a* well as in Euglaml. Some of his children and grand-children are here. 
 And ho ha«, doubtleia, mU a few spiritual children among us. It is well, 
 therefore, lo reput)Iish, fonlieir gratifiuatmn, a ' memorial' that has excited a 
 deep sen«»tii>n on the otlier side of the Atlantic, — it is too full of instruction 
 to be lost, on any one who shall even glance at its pages. It would give mm 
 pleasure to indicate some of these instructions, and dwell on the joyous spec- 
 tacle of a pastor reposing sweetly on the aflfections of his flock, after having' 
 led them for fifty years m green pastures and beside still waters — but it is un- 
 necessary. We trust that many will read and understand, and derive abun- 
 dant profit from the example thus furnished, of niinisterial fidelity and its 
 earthly rewarJa." — Boston Recorder. 
 
9 
 VTORKS 
 
 BY REV. J. A. CLARK, D. D. 
 
 RECTOR OF ST. ANDREW'S CHURCH, 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 I. 
 
 A WALK ABOUT ZION. Revised and Enlarged. Fifth edi- 
 
 tion ; l2mo. 2 steel engravings. 
 
 " The spirit of the book is above all price. It is that charity which en* 
 vieth not, vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up. No intelligent man will be 
 disposed to deny that the arrogant principle of Puseyism has extensively 
 infected the Episcopal Church in Great Britain and this country. When, 
 therefore, we find a writer of that communion who is not in the least a£ 
 fected by it, but who utters in Christian meekness and simplicity, senti* 
 ments becoming the liberal philosopher and the humble minded believer in 
 Jesus, our heart yearns the more towards him on account of the strong ad- 
 verse influence, which, we know, he is obliged constantly to resist." — Bap- 
 tist Advocate. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE PASTOR'S TESTIMONY. Fifth edition; l2mo. Revised 
 
 and corrected ; 2 steel engravings. 
 
 *'We admire the spirit and sentiments of the author on all practical 
 points of religion " — Presbyterian. 
 
 " Mr. Clarke is an eminently evangelical writer of the Protestant Episco 
 pal Church, and his productions have been extensively read by other d^ 
 nominations." — New York Observer. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE YOUNG DISCIPLE; or a MemourofAnggonettaR. Peters. 
 
 Fourth edition ; l2mo. 
 
 " Dr. Clarke has for some time been known to the religious public, as one 
 of the most judicious and excellent writers of the day. His works are all 
 characterized by good thoughts expressed in a graceful and appropriate 
 manner, by great seriousness and unction, and an earnest desire to promote 
 the spiritual interests of his fellow men." — Albany Daily Advertiser. 
 
 IV. 
 
 GATHERED FRAGMENTS. Fourth eaition; l2mo. 2 steel 
 
 engravings. 
 Containing— The M'Ellen Family.— The Paralytic— The Withered Branch 
 
 Revived.— The Baptism.— Little Ann.— The Meeting of the Travellers.—- 
 
 Mary Maywood. — ^A Family in Eternity. — One whose Record is on High) 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 V. 
 
 GLEANINGS BY THE WAY; or Travels in the Country. 
 1 vol. ; 12mo. 
 
10 
 
 ANECDOTES ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE SHORTER CATE- 
 CHISM. By John Whitecross, Edinburgh. New edition; 
 l8mo. 
 
 •' We admire the plan of this work, which is by striking anecdotes, to il- 
 lustrate and enforce the answers to the questions of that invaluable com* 
 pend, the Shorter Catechism."— £os/on Recorder. 
 
 "The author of this work has been alike original in its conception and 
 •uccessful in its execution. The anecdotes are generally selected with 
 great good taste and good judgment, and are admirably fitted to impress 
 the truths which they are designed to illustrate. This will relieve the cate- 
 chism of a difficulty which many have felt in respect to it — that it is too 
 abstract to be comprehended by the mind of a child : here every truth is 
 »een in its practical relations, and becomes associated in the mind with 
 some interesting fact which is fitted at once to make it plain to the under- 
 standing, to lodge it in the memory, and to impress it upon the heart."— 
 Albany Daily Advertiser. 
 
 THE SINNER'S FRIEND. From the 87th London edition, com- 
 pleting upwards of half a million. 
 
 "This attle volume contains a series of short, earnest, and impressive 
 appeals, addressed to the conscience of the sinner, to persuade him to be 
 reconciled to God. It appears to us well adapted for general circulation, 
 especially in seasons of inquiry. There is perhaps no work of the kind 
 more popular, or more extensively read. It is stated that the work has 
 been published in sixteen different languages, and that more than five hun- 
 dred mousand copies have been circulated, mostly in the different countries 
 of Europe." — Christian Observer. 
 
 " It is designed by its direct appeals to arrest the attention of the most 
 careless reader, and to pour into his ear some word of truth before he cau 
 become fatigued with reading." — Presbyterian. 
 
 " It is fitted to be an admirable auxiliary to ministers in the discharge of 
 their duty." — Albany Daily Advertiser, 
 
 NEW WORK BY OLD HUMPHREY. THOUGHTS FOR THE 
 
 THOUGHTFUL. By the author of "Old Humphrey's 
 Observations," and "Old Humphrey's Addresses." 1 vol. 
 18mo. Uniform with the former works. 
 
 '"Old Humphrey' is known as the personification of an old man, who 
 has not only had his eyes open in his journey through life, but has act- 
 ually seen many things that escape the observation of others, from which 
 he has gathered lessons of wisdom for the instruction of those who follow 
 them. His style and manner are well adapted to interest the reader. He 
 never speaks without thinking, and having something to say." — Christian 
 Observer. 
 
 " We most cordially reccommend Old Humphrey as a charming domes- 
 tic companion; assuring our friends that there is not a family in the Re- 
 public but may save in one day, by following his advice, more than the cost 
 of his volumes." — National Intelligencer. 
 
 LUCILLA; or the Reading of the Bible. By Adolphe Monod, 
 
 1 vol. l8mo. 
 
 " This is the producti-'n of one of the most distinguished of the living 
 Protestant ministers of France. The style has all the sprightliness and 
 vivacity of the French ; and we doubt not that the work will have an exten- 
 sive circulation in this countr) " — N. E- Puritan. 
 
 " Its design is to prove that the Holy Scriptures are inspired of God, and 
 that it is the privilege and duty of «.U people to read them with a referenc* 
 
11 
 
 to their personal salvation. The work is ably written, and impressed 
 throughout with the kind, earnest, and benevolent spirit of the author."— 
 Christian Observer. 
 
 " We venture to say that it contains one of the most acute, philosophical, 
 and conclusive arguments in favor of the inspiration of the Scriptures, and 
 of the importance of their universal circulation, to be found in any lan- 
 guage. Fart of the book is in the form of dialogue, and part of it in the 
 form of epistolary correspondence ; and while the argument is conducted 
 on both Slides with great ability, the skeptic is finally confounded, not be- 
 cause he appears as the weaker man, but because he lias the weaker cause. 
 We would say to any who b^ve doubts in respect to the truth of Christian- 
 ity, that they will do themselves great injustice, if they cherish those doubts 
 or allow them to settle into unbelief, without having given this book a 
 careful perusal. If we mistake not, they will hnd that the skeptic has here 
 been allowed to make the very best of his case, while yet, after all, he has 
 been compelled to abandon iX."— Albany Daily Advertiser. 
 
 THE BRITISH PULPIT. Consisting of Discourses by the most 
 eminent living Divines in England, Scotland, and Ireland: 
 accompanied °with Pulpit Sketches. To which are added, 
 Scriptural Illustrations ; and selections on the Office, Duties, 
 and Responsibilities of the Christian Ministry. By the Rev. 
 W. Suddards, Rector of Grace Church, Philadelphia. Fifth 
 edition. 2 vols. 8vo. }0 portraits on steel. 
 
 BICKERSTETH'S TREATISE ON THE LORD'S SUPPER. 
 
 With an Introduction, Notes, and an Essay. By G. T. Be- 
 dell, D. D. 5th edition ; l8mo. 
 
 MOFFATTS SOUTHERN AFRICA. Missionary Labours and 
 Scenes in Southern Africa. By Robert Moffat, twenty-three 
 years an Agent of the London Missionary Society in that con- 
 tinent. 1 vol. l2mo. 
 
 «• We have read the whole of this large volume with undiniinished inter- 
 est, and have found it replete with missionary information, given in an un- 
 pretending, but strong and clear style. The wretched state of the heathen 
 tribes, among whom the writer so long laboured as a missionary; their 
 deep degradation and ignorance ; the trials of faith and patience, of the 
 missionary brethren ; and after years of apparently useless labour, and 
 when the churches at home seemed ready to abandon the whole field, the 
 displays of the power of the Spirit of God, by his blessing upon the labours 
 of his servants, are all recorded by an eye-witness, who bore the burden and 
 heat of the day, and who lived to rejoice in seeing the triumphs of the Gos- 
 pel, among the most ignorant and de^aded of the human family. The nar- 
 rative is enriched also with descriptions of African scenery ; with the em- 
 ployment, habits, and pursuits of the native tribes ; then: dangers from 
 lions and other beasts of prey, and the wars and massacres of the roving 
 bands of marauders, in their desolating excursions from place to place. — 
 JToreign Missionary 
 
 INTERESTING NARRATIVES from the Sacred Volume. Illus- 
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 atriarchal Wedding— Dutiful Son.— Affectionate Brother.— Faithful 
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12 
 
 I>ying Patriarch.— Foundling. — Wise Choice.— Blasphemer Stoned. — 
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 Daughter-in-Law. — Happy Gleaner. 
 
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 MANUAL OF BIBLICAL INTERPRETATION. By Professor 
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 MEMOIR OF HANNAH SINCLAIR. By Legh Richmond, 
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 THE EXTENT AND EFFICACY OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 By Howard Malcom, A. M. ISmo. 
 OUR PROTESTANT FOREFATHERS. By W. S. Gilly, D. D. 
 From the 12th London edition. ISmo. 
 
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 fine edition, S3; The British Reformers, in 12 vols, l2mo., S7J 
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