Columbia (HnttJt m'tp intl^eCitpoflrtjigork THE LIBRARIES \ n '^ V JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY, NO. 134 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON, AND LYCEUM BUILDING, CAMBRIDGE, PUBLISH AND HAVE FOR SALE THE FOLLOWING VALUABLE BOOKS BY UNITARIAN WRITERS. Channing's, (W. E.) complete Works. 6 vols. 12mo. Ware's, (Henry, Jr.) Works ; edited by Rev. C. Robbins. 4 vols. 12mo. Portraits. Dewey's Discourses, revised edit. 3 vols. 12mo. Buckminster's Sermons. Edited by Rev. H. Ware, Jr. 2 vols. 12mo. Life of H. Ware, Jr., by his brother John Ware, M. D. 2 vols. 12mo. Portraits. Life and Correspondence of William E. Channing. 3 vols. I2mo. Academical Lectures on the Jewish Scriptures and Antiquities. By J. G Palfrey, D. D. 2 vols. 8vo. Lectures on the Evidences of Christianity. By John G. Palfrey; with Memoir of John Lowell, by Edward Everett. 2 vols. 8vo. Noyes's Hebrew Prophets ; new Edition with Additions. 3 vols. ]2mo. Norton on the Evidences of the Genuineness of the Gospels. Second edition. 3 vols. 8vo. 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AMERICAN UNITAEIAN BIOGEAPHY. 7~^ r Jc iiJigra-vec t-j j: . iia*.j>u o4"^yfK?-L. ^^^^^ _ boston: nV JAM£S MUNROE & C ', AMERICAN UNITARIAN BIOGRAPHY MEMOIRS OF INDIVIDUALS WHO HAVE BEEN DISTINGUISHED WRITINGS, CHARACTER, AND EFFORTS IN THE CAUSE OF LIBERAL CHRISTIANITY, EDITED BY WILLIAM WARE VOL. L BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE: JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY, LONDON: EDWARD T. WHITFIELD. 1850. 0^ ^ Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S50, by James Mun- ROE AND Company, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. <-/ ^<^tr CAMBRIDGE '. PRINTED BY BOLLES AND HOUGHTON. en :> m PREFACE The desire having often been expressed that the me- moirs of our more distinguished Unitarians, which have long been before the pubHc in an insulated form, in ser- mons, or periodicals, or prefixed to volumes of discourses, might be collected into volumes and published as a separate work, I have undertaken, at the request of the publishers, the office of editor of such a work, and the first volume is now offered to the public, I hope it may be found to be prepared in a manner to satisfy the expectations of those who will be chiefly interested in it. As it has been undertaken in connexion with no public association whatever, but solely on the editor's own responsibility, he alone must be held answerable for whatever faults of judgment or execution it may be found to be justly chargeable with. It did not seem worth while to go farther back for the object had in view than to the days of Worcester and Freeman. Mayhew was a Unitarian ; but although be- tween his era and the close of the last century, there Vm PREFACE. appeared many truly liberal and catholic spirits, who, had they lived now, we may suppose would have embraced the doctrines by which we are at present distinguished, yet there were few, or no other avowed Unitarians, and commonly known to be such — certainly not among the clergy, — with the exception of the very small number who gathered around Priestley in Philadelphia and North- umberland, and under Dr. Vanderkemp at Oldenbarne- veldt. It may be a useful service, at some future time, to collect into a volume the names and lives of those, Unitarians in spirit if not in name, to whom reference is here made, comprising those of Mayhew, Chauncy, Gay, Shute, Thacher, Eckley, Lathrop, Clarke, Osgood, &c. At present, the series commences with Worcester, whose life may well be regarded as marking an era in our religious history, in the publication of a book * which probably exerted a wider influence throughout New England, and unbound the fetters of creed from more minds, than any other that had at that time appeared. As it has been no purpose in preparing this volume, nor will be in the succeeding ones, to give it the character ■of a biographical dictionary, there has been no intention to admit every name into these pages. Selection, not completeness, has been the principle of the compilation. Such memoirs only have been thought desirable as would furnish for the reader profitable religious reading, while at the same time they narrated, in the order of time, the * The first edition of " Bible News" appeared in ISIO. PREFACE. IX principal events in the history of American Unitarianism, and displayed the rise, progress, and rapid dissemination of this new, and yet, of all others, most ancient form of Christian faith. Of many it is to be regretted that the notice is so brief and slight of men -whose characters and acts influenced deeply their own generation, and whose virtues and deeds will be held in affectionate and honor- able remembrance for many generations to come. What- ever time may decide to have been the character of these Christian ministers for talent or genius, men of purer lives, or nobler spirit, never handed down this, or any other form of Christianity from one period to another. As a denomination, I suppose it would be admitted that the distinction between clergy and laity is less rigorously observed than in any other that could be named. Few therefore will be surprised, and all grat- ified, I hope, by meeting, in the succeeding volumes, sketches of the lives of several Christian laymen, who, if not preachers by profession, were such virtually, and produced by the beauty of their lives, the excellence of their character, or their bold utterance, and defence of unpopular opinions, all those wholesome effects upon society that can ever be traced to the most distinguished of our clergy. The names of Frisbie, Howe, Haven, Gallison, Hurlbut, are among the most honored we have ; and it would be hard to say who should be commemorated as those who improved their own generation by their wisdom and their virtue, and helped to purge the X PREFACE. common Christianity of prevailing error, if not they. Without formal ordination or the priestly office, they were both preachers and bishops by the grace of God. The place of each memoir in the series has been de- termined by the order of time on the college catalogue ; or, when that was Avanting, by that of birth. This will continue to be observed as the general rule. Reasons may occur to make its violation desirable or necessary. Those who have severally committed to me the fol- lowing notices for republication, will please to accept my thanks for the favor ; and will, I hope, be satisfied with the few but obvious changes which were found necessary to adapt them to this particular purpose. Many sentences, paragraphs, notes, appendices, desi- rable for one object, for another it was found equally desirable either to suppress, or greatly abridge. The remaining volumes will follow without farther delay. Cambridge, Feb., 1850. CONTENTS Page Memoir op Noah Worcester 3 By Henry Ware, Jr., Cambridgfe. John Prince ..,.., 101 By Charles W. Upham, Salem. Ezra Ripley 119 By Barzillai Frost, Concord. James Freeman 139 By Francis W. P. Greenwood, Boston. Eliphalet Porter 159 By George Putnam, Roxbury. Aaron Bancroft 171 By Alonzo Hill, Worcester. Joseph Mottey 193 By David Damon, Lunenlmrg. John Allyn 213 By Convers Francis, Cambridge. Henry Ware 227 By John Gorham Palfrey, Cambridge. Thaddeus Mason Harris .... 259 By Nathaniel Hall, Dorchester. John Thornton Kirkland .... 273 By Alexander Young, Boston- Nathaniel Thayer 333 By Alonzo Hill, Worcester. Abiel Abbot ...... 351 By Stevens Everett, Hallowell, Me. MEMOIR NOAH WORCESTER, NOAH WORCESTER. Noah Worcester was born November 25th, 1758, at Hollis, N. H., then a new and obscure place, the settlement of which was commenced in 1730. He was the oldest son of Noah Worcester, Esq., who was a son of the Rev. Francis Worcester, for some years pastor of a church in Sandwich, Mass., and who died at Hollis in 1783. The Rev. Francis Worcester was the great grandson of the Rev. Wil- liam Worcester, who came from Salisbury in Eng- land, and was the first minister of the church in Salisbury, Mass., which Avas instituted in 1638, and was the eighteenth church, in the order of time, formed in Massachusetts Bay. In " An Address delivered on the Centennial Cele- bration to the People of Hollis, N. H., Sept. 15th, 1830, by the Rev. Grant Powers," there is a notice of Noah Worcester, Esq., and his family, from which the following extract is made. " The daughter of Mr. Taylor, one of the first settlers of Hollis, married Noah Worcester, Esq., whose memory is with us to-day as one of the fathers of the town for a long series of years. He had an active and vigorous mind, <* NOAH WORCESTER. was one of the framers of the Constitution of this State, sustained the office of magistrate for more than forty years, and was a member of this church more than sixty years. Mr. Worcester had seven children, and' of their posterity eighteen have either received the honors of college, or are now members of New England colleges. Eight are, or have been, ministers of the Gospel." The names of the five sons of Noah Worcester, Esq., by his first marriage, were as follows: — Noah Worcester, D. D., the subject of these Memoirs; Jesse Worcester, a very intelligent and respectable farmer, who resided on the paternal estate at Hollis ; Leonard Worcester, A. M., ordained pastor of the church in Peacham, Vt. in 1799 ; Thomas Worces- ter, A. M., pastor of the church in Salisbury, N. H., from 1792 to 1823; and Samuel Worcester, D. D., pastor of the church in Fitchburg, Mass., from 1797 to 1802 ; and of the Tabernacle church in Salem, from 1803 till his death in 1821. Leonard Worcester, the only survivor of these brothers, a man greatly respected for his talents and virtues, and for the excellence of his ministerial char- acter, was bred a printer, and carried on the business for some years in Worcester, Mass., and was at the same time editor of the Massachusetts Spy. After a useful ministry at Peacham of about forty years, he Avas obliged, three or four years since, to retire from the public duties of his profession on account of declining health. Thomas Worcester, who was a man of good talents and much esteemed, died in 1831, having been a great invalid for. several years. Samuel Worcester, the only one of the five brothers NOAH WORCESTER. O who had the advantages of a collegiate education, is well known as one of the most distinguished theolo- gians of his age in this country. His name is asso- ciated especially with the cause of Missions, he having been the Corresponding Secretary of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, from its institution in 1810 till his death. These facts show what must have been the domes- tic discipline of the house in which the subject of these Memoirs spent his earliest years. Religion must have had there a favorite and familiar home. The air that he breathed during childhood was that of reli- gion. His grandparents made part of the family, and he tells us that " all united to make early a deep im- pression on his mind in favor of religion, and against vice ; and that in these efforts they were so far suc- cessful, that his religious impressions were of the ear- liest date of any thing he can remember, excepting," he adds, " a burn which I received in my bosom when I was about two years old." From the time that he was twelve years old he was accustomed to lead the daily worship of the family in the absence of his father. As a proof of the conscientiousness which at the earliest period was cultivated in him, he relates the distress which he once endured, before he was five years old, at the idea that he had been guilty of the sin of falsehood, in asserting as a fact what had been told him without his knoAving it to be true ; and the relief which he experienced in having the differ- ence between an unintentional departure from truth and a design to deceive, explained to him. He was taught to read at a very early age, and 1* 6 NOAH WORCESTER. took pleasure in reading. He is remembered as being always accounted one of the best scholars in the school, and as employing his leisure time at home, in reading or studying, or teaching the younger child- ren. The best opportunities of education were at that time and in that place but small, and his privi- leges became poor indeed as he advanced in years. For as he grew to be large and strong for his age, his services as a laborer were too valuable to be dispensed 'with, and he was only spared from the farm to attend the brief school of a few weeks during the winter season. Neither grammar nor geography made any part of his studies ; and scanty as his advantages were, they ceased with the winter of 1774 - 5, when he was but sixteen years old. On the breaking out of the Revolutionary war, the next spring, he joined 'the army as a fifer, and contin- ued in the service for about eleven months. He nar- rowly escaped being made prisoner at the battle of Bunker Hill ; in the confusion of the retreat he ran toAvard a party of the enemy, and barely discovered his mistake in season to correct it. He again was in the army for two months, " to please his father," he says, during the campaign of 1777. He was then fife-major. It was his fortune to be in the battle of Bennington ; where, as he said afterward, " he felt much worse in going over the ground the next day, than during the engagement." When the term of his enlistment expired, he was solicited with some urgency to remain in the army, and offers were made to raise his wages to those of a non-commissioned officer ; but he disliked the business, and he was in love ; he there- fore persisted in quitting the camp ; expressing devout NOAH WORCESTER. 7 gratitude to that kind Providence which had led him unharmed through the terrible moral dangers to which he had been exposed. " One effect, however," he says, " occurred from my being in the army, which I could not but observe with some alarm. From my childhood till I became a soldier, my sympathetic affections or passions were remarkably tender, so that I was easily moved to tears by any affecting objects or circumstances. But the first funeral I attended at home after having been in the army, I was shocked to find myself so changed, and so unmoved on such an occasion." The interval between his two military expeditions Avas in several respects an important period of his life. He resided for a time in the family of his uncle Francis Worcester at Plymouth, whither he had gone ■with a view to engaging in the manufacture of maple sugar. Here Avas residing also his uncle's step- daughter, Hannah Brown, a native of Newburyport, a fine girl of sixteen, whose admirable qualities attracted his warmest affection. A mutual attach- ment grew up between the young .pair, and spite of poverty, Avar, and youth, they pledged themselves to each other. This was in the season of 1776 - 7. He Avas eighteen years old, she Avas sixteen. , It was during this winter, too, that he first occupied himself as an instructor. He undertook the care of the village school; and, notAvithstanding Avhat Ave have seen must have been his very inadequate prepar- ation for such a task, he acquitted himself to the satis- faction of his employers, and pursued the occupation for nine successive Avinters. He Avas perfectly aAvare of his deficiencies, and anxious and resolute to remove 8 NOAH WORCESTER. them. He availed himself Avith diligence of the best means within his reach. How good these Avere, and what obstacles he had to contend against, may be seen in his account of them. " In the course of that winter, I probably acquired more useful knowledge than I had ever before done in any two winters by going to school. After I became an instructor I felt the importance of learn- ing, and exerted myself to obtain it by such means as were then within my power. I found myself deficient in the art of writing, and being at Plymouth in N. H., in the summer season, where it was difficult to pro- cure paper during the war, I wrote over a quantity of white birch bark, in imitation of some excellent copies which I found in that place. By this means I made considerable improvement in leisure hours and rainy weather. About this time I procured a dictionary, which was the first I ever had the privilege of perus- ing, though I was then in my eighteenth year." So young, and yet already he had been in one battle and was soon to be in another, had taught school one winter, and was engaged to be married. This engagement, as was natural, seems to have hastened his settlement in life. In September, 1778, he purchased of his father the remainder of his minority, and left home for Plymouth, intending to make that town the place of his residence, and expect- ing to spend his days as a farmer, except so far as he might obtain employment as a schoolmaster. Here he was married the next year, on the day he was twenty-one years of age. And now, having accompanied him up to manhood, what have we found in his circumstances, character, NOAH WORCESTER. » or education, to give any prediction of the place whicli he was afterward to fill in life ? What was there so extraordinary, that, if he had died then, any one should say, " Alas, alas, the world has lost a benefac- tor ; the progress of man is put back ? " A conscien- tious child, a good boy, an enterprising youth, hope- ful, diligent, and brave ; but so far from being apparently on the path to literary eminence or dis- tinction of life, he has barely studied enough to attain the accomplishment of a district school teacher, and that in a region so obscure and so remote from the means of improvement, that his paper has been birch bark, and he meets no dictionary till he has reached his eighteenth year. No one could doubt that with his athletic frame, his capacity for labor, and his spirit of enterprise, he would make his way in the world, and probably thrive. No one could doubt that with his exemplary correctness of life and readiness to serve others, he would be a useful member of society. But he was now settled for life, as a small farmer in a small place. To human eye there was no prospect that he could ever move in any other sphere, or be known beyond the limits of his own village. In this case as in multitudes of others, how strikingly was the saying verified, " It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps ! " " From the facts and circumstances which have been already mentioned," — we now copy from an autobiography, — ^"it will be obvious to you, that to the time of my marriage, my advantages for acquiring knowledge must have been very small ; perhaps not half so good as are now generally enjoyed in my 10 NOAH WORCESTER. native town. ... I shall here mention one fact which has seemed to myself remarkable, when com- pared with the course I have pursued since I was twenty-five years of age. At the age of twenty-one I think I had never written any compositions of my own of any kind, except such as the following. 1 had written letters on my own account, and for others who had friends in the army. I had probably written notes, bonds, and deeds, some of which I recollect. When teaching a school, I was in the habit of com- posing copies for my scholars, and questions in Arith- metic, instead of taking them from books. Excepting such compositions as have now been named, I have no recollections of having written any of my own till after I was married. I had, however, from my child- hood been much in the habit of reflection and inquiry ; and probably I was too much inclined to argument and disputation, on various subjects. I think I was not more than twelve years old when this propensity was mentioned to me as one of my faults. Though the propensity was doubtless in some instances impru- dently indulged, it Avas probably a means of my advancement in knowledge. " The first of my compositions of a nature differ- ent from those I have mentioned, were argumentative, and in the form of objections to the first proposed con- stitution for the State of New Hampshire. A Conven- tion of delegates had formed a constitution, which they caused to be printed and sent to the different towns with a request that such objections as should occur miglit be stated in writing with reasons for their sup- port, and forwarded to the Convention at their next meeting. I had the curiosity to examine the consti- NOAH WORCESTER. 11 tution, and finding some things in it which I deemed objectionable, I stated them in writing, and showed them to a neighbor. In consequence of these steps, I was chosen by the town as one of the committee to examine the constitution, and state such objections as should occur. As the committee were apprized of the fact that I had paid some attention to the subject, the task of writing was assigned to me. This I performed to the satisfaction of the committee and of the town. By this first effort, I acquired a taste for writing, and a hope that by further practice I might be able to write to advantage." As no date is given, it is not clear whether this took place during Mr. Worcester's residence in Plymouth, or after his removal to Thornton. To the latter place, a small town in the neighborhood, he removed in February, 1782, about three and a half years after his marriage. Here his religious character seems to have received a quickened development, and he made a profession of religion in the succeeding August. His brief account of this event it is proper to give in his own words. " When I removed from Plymouth to Thornton, neither my Avife nor myself had joined any church as members. This neglect was not, I believe, in either of us, the fruit of disrespect to religion or its institutions. We had been educated under the influ- ence of Christian instruction, and had grown up as I trust, under the influence of religious principles. Though our love and obedience had been imperfect, we had a reverence for God, and for the precepts of the gospel. But neither of us could name the day of our conversion, nor could Ave honestly relate such distressing agitations of mind and subsequent trans- 12 NOAH WORCESTER. ports of joy as we had heard from the hps of others, and which we had been led to regard as the evidences of having been born of God. We had not duly reflected on the fact, that these are not the evidences of a good heart which are mentioned in the Bible. But after we removed to Thornton, we were under the ministry of the Rev. Experience Estabrook, an eminently pious man, and by his preaching and con- versation we were led to a more serious consideration of the importance of showing our regard to God and to the precepts of his Son, by becoming more openly professors of religion. And after much serious thought and inquiry we obtained such satisfaction that we were encouraged to become members of the church, though not both at the same time. " I have long been convinced that the same incor- rect views by which we were detained from joining the church at an earlier period, have had a similar effect on the minds of many others, who were truly pious people ; and that such views have not only sub- jected many pious Christians to great perplexity, but have retarded their advances in true godliness, and exposed them to temptation. It is on many accounts a great advantage to persons of real piety to be known as professors of religion, and particularly so as it tends to their greater watchfulness and circumspection. When they are known as professors, they must be aware that it is expected of them to act according to their profession. But while they are known as non- professors they are often exposed to conform to prac- tices which their consciences condemn." After thus joining the church, and probably in con- sequence of the state of mind and feeling connected NOAH WORCESTER. 13 with that act, — he formed the habit, he says, of " ex- amining rehgious subjects by writing short dissertations on different questions." He thus went through a long process of self-education ; not so much as is apparent, from views of ulterior advantage as simply from the activity of his own mind, and for the satisfaction of his thought. This he did in the midst of many hin- drances. With an increasing family, and no means of subsistence but the labor of his own hands, he yet contrived to make time for the studies that interested him. In order to this it was necessary to subject him^ self to " excessive labor while at work ; " to snatch intervals as he could between school hours in the winter, on the sabbath, and in the night when others were sleeping. At this period and for many years after, he employed himself a portion of the time in shoe-making ; and much of his studying and writing was done while he sat at work upon his bench. At the end of the bench lay his lap-board, with his pen, ink and paper upon it. When thoughts came upon him clearly and were ready to be expressed, he laid down his shoe, placed the lap-board on his knees, and wrote. In this way, he informs us, he wrote, " nearly half of all that he wrote on religious subjects, before he began to preach; — including the five sermons which formed his stock to begin with, and the first pamphlet which he ever pubhshed." These habits of thought and study were gradually preparing the way for a change of life. So inquisi- tive and active a mind could not be hidden. In the year 1785,' being excited by a sermon of the Rev. John Murray on the " Origin of Evil," he ventured to send what he had written to the press, in the shape of 2 14 NOAH WORCESTER. " Letter " to the Author. Of this act and its conse- quences he thus speaks in his autobiographical letters. " Whatever may now be thought by myself or others, as to the prudence of my pubhshing that work, or as to the correctness of its sentiments, that effort unquestionably prepared the way for my being appro- bated and received as a preacher of the gospel. I had abundant reason to think that the work was highly approved by a number of the most distinguished min- isters of the Hopkinsian denomination. Prior to pub- lishing that pamphlet I had often thought of the ministry as a desirable ivork, but I had never thought of it with expectation that I should engage in it, till the subject was proposed by my friend Mr. Church. I had submitted to his inspection much of the little I had written on variotis subjects, and he was in the habit of using great freedom in his conversation with me. Near the close of one of our interviews, he put the question ; whether I did not think of becoming a minister ? The question was to me unexpected and surprising. I replied that I could not say I had never thought on the subject, but I had not thought of it as a thing attainable. He frankly expressed his opinion, that I might be more useful in that work than in any other. I stated what appeared to me very formidable objections. These he endeavored to obviate, and assured me that in his opinion, there would be no difficulty in my obtaining the approbation of the minis- ters of the association to which he belonged, and he moreover advised me to take the subject into serious consideration. Wilh this advice I complied, and was for many months in doubt as to the path of duty. I conversed with some other ministers, and private NOAH WORCESTER. 15 friends, who seemed to encourage the object. The more I reflected, the more I was inchned to undertake the work, if it could be done with a prospect of use- fulness. It was then and still is my opinion, that it is the duty of every Christian to seek for that situation in life in which he may probably be the iiipst useful, or do the most good. After much reflection, I resolved to offer myself for examination — 17S6. I readily ob- tained the approbation of ministers, and preached my first sermon at Boscawen in New Hampshire. From the time I began to preach, I was never refused the pulpit of any minister, either on account of my pecu- liar opinions, or on account of my want of a classical education. " Though I have never doubted the friendship or sincerity of those ministers, who advised and en- couraged me to become a preacher ; yet I have often doubted whether I could have given similar advice under similar circumstances. My want of education was great ; I had a wife and three children who de- pended for support on the fruit of my labors ; I was embarrassed with debt, by having purchased a farm at an unfavorable time during the war ; I had found no leisure for regular study ; and when or where I should obtain regular employment as a preacher, was alto- gether uncertain. When in later years I have seriously reflected on these several facts, it has seemed to me wonderful that wise men should have advised me to make the attempt to become a minister, and also won- derful that I was induced to comply with their advice. But doubtless God had some wise design in so order- ing the event." The preaching of Mr. Worcester appears to have 16 NOAH WORCESTER. been acceptable from the first, and so approved itself to Mr. Estabrook, the minister of Thornton, that he immediately recommended him to the people as his successor ; he being desirous to resign his charge. This he did in December, 1786 ; and Mr. Worcester, having spent ihe subsequent winter as usual, in teach- ing school, preached for some months in the following spring and summer as a candidate, and was ordained over the church in Thornton, on the 18th of the fol- lowing October ; having been a preacher somewhat less than a year. He had been a resident in the town for five years and a half; was well known and re- spected ; had served in many public trusts ; had been schoolmaster, selectman, town clerk, justice of the peace, and representative to the General Court. The people now testified their confidence in him by making him their minister. And here he fulfilled a useful and harmonious ministry of twenty-three years' duration. " I have never found in any place," is the testimony of one who knew, " so much harmony and mutual confidence as did exist between him and his people." The town was small and humble, and the people few and poor ; they met for worship in a dwelling house or school-house. His salary scantily supported life, being two hundred dollars; and as many could ill afford to pay their proportion of even that small sum, he was accustomed, as the time of collecting it drew nigh, to relinquish his claims by giving to the poorer among them receipts in full. The relief granted them in this way, sometimes amounted to a fourth or even a third part of his salary. He was thus made to continue still dependent for his support in a great measure on the labor of his hands, partly on the farm, and partly in NOAH WORCESTER. 17 making shoes. But he was far from fancying this scantiness of pay and necessity of toil any exemption from the obhgation to do the utmost for his people. On the contrary, he was ready to' engage in extra labor for them ; and when it happened, for example, as it sometimes did, that the provision for a winter school failed, he threw open the doors of his own house, invited the children into his study, and gave them his time and care as assiduously as if he had been their regularly appointed teacher. Of the style and manner of his preaching, and the principles which he adopted in preparation for the pul- pit, we have a brief account from his own pen. " In the^ early part of my ministry I was in the habit of preaching what would now be deemed long ser- mons. I was seldom less than three quarters of an hour in the delivery of a discourse, and often exceeded an hour. I spoke too with unusual rapidity at that period of my ministry. Of course it was considerable labor to prepare my sermons ; for I wrote them out entirely, and ^yas much confined to my notes in speak- ing. I had, however, a strong desire to acquire the power and habit of speaki'ng without notes. But when I had preached more than two years, I almost de- spaired of ever acquiring what I so ardently desired. At length, however, I determined to make an effort. I Avrote out my sermon as usual, and committed it to memory. I took my notes with me, that I might look at them if necessary. But I named and repeated the text, and delivered the discourse without looking at my manuscript. My people then met in a dwelhng house, and some of them could not see the preacher. I was informed that those parishioners who were so 2* 18 NOAH WORCESTER. situated as not to see me, had not the least suspicion that I spoke without readhig. It had always been my aim to deliver my discourses as though I was talking to the assembly, rather than reading to them. Of course little change appeared in my manner, when I began to speak memoriter. My success in the fii'st attempt was greatly encouraging to my mind ; and I generally pursued the same method for several years — that is, writing my sermons, committing them to memory, and delivering them without looking at my notes. In this way I soon acquired a habit of speak- ing extempore as well as memoriter. As my health be- came feeble, and as the labor of committing to memory was considerable, I found it necessary to change my course. I then adopted the method of writing what I could of my discourses, or so much as health would allow, and then copying the heads of the discourse, and some short memoranda, for illustration ; these I made use of in delivery instead of committing the dis- courses to memory. For a time my health was so feeble, that I had to discontinue preaching ; and Avhen I resumed it I had not health to write my discourses — excepting some leading thoughts. At some periods of my ministry I must have resigned the office had I not been able to speak extempore. For the improve- ment of my own mind, I deemed it my duty to write as much as my health would permit, as I found that I could study best with a pen in my hand. I was far from the opinion that unwritten, or unpremeditated discourses are more pleasing to God or more useful to men than those which are well studied and written correctly. The divine aid is as necessary in writing as in speaking, and is as sure to be obtained if duly NOAH WORCESTER. 19 sought ; — and as writing is one of the best methods of improving the mind, it surely ought not to be neg- lected under the pretence of exhibiting a more perfect trust in God for what we shall speak in public for the benefit of mankind." " I seldom preached what could be termed an ab- struse discourse. I endeavored to accommodate my preaching to the capacities of my audience, and to avoid giving a controversial aspect to my sermons. Whatever doctrine I attempted to illustrate, I endeav- ored to apply it to practical purposes. " The changes which from time to time occurred in my own views of doctrines, or of particular pas- sages of Scripture, had a salutary effect on my own mind. It occasioned me to become more and more aware of my own liability to err ; to be less self- confident and dogmatical in stating my opinions ; to be more candid towards those who dissented from me, and to forbear any censorious denunciations against the people of other sects, as though they must be des- titute of piety. In the whole course of my ministry, I think I never did in any instance reproach the peo- ple of any sect as destitute of piety or the Christian character ; and wholesale censures ever appeared to me antichristian, and more deserving of censure than any mere error of opinion. I frankly expressed my own opinions, and often exposed what I believed to be errors ; but I seldom named any sect in my preach- ing as possessing erroneous opinions. I had satisfac- tory evidence to my own mind that there were good people in each of the sects with which I had been par- ticularly acquainted, and I entertained a hope that it was so with all the sects of professed Christians. It 20 NOAH WORCESTER. ' was therefore very painful to me to sit and hear a preacher of ray own denomination reproach the min- isters or the people of another sect. Such conduct seemed to me more like the sin of reviling, than like the love required by the gospel. Very early I became convinced that the opinions of people in general are the fruit of education ; and that those who have had the misfortune to be educated in error, are objects of pity rather than censure." His activity of mind was constant. He was a student and thinker. He entered with interest into the subjects which engaged public attention, and pur- sued with ardor and perseverance those which excited his own. He had the good habit of studying with pen in hand, writing his thoughts on the subjects which he would thoroughly investigate. It has been said, in exaggerated terms, but with something of plausible foundation, " that it was his practice to write a book on whatever subject he was studying ; that in studying grammar he wrote a Grammar ; that he did the same in Arithmetic, &c." This constant use of the pen naturally led to frequent publication. He contributed during this period to the public journals. He wrote largely, as we learn from a memorandum found among his papers, for the Theological Maga- zine in New York. The series of papers entitled " The Variety," was from his pen. He published also in a periodical printed at Concord, and in the newspapers. The habit thus early formed of putting his thoughts on paper, followed him through life, and became a never-failing source of companionship and content, when sickness and solitude closed against him the common resources of life. NOAH WORCESTER. 21 A ministry thus past in diligent study and the usual routine of duty in a small and obscure parish, affords few materials for history. Important as the processes may be which are going on within, and interesting as they may be to the individual, they are interesting and known to others only in their subsequent results. The events that we can relate during this period are few. One of the most important was the affliction which he suffered in the death of his wife, who was taken from him in November, 1797, after a happy marriage of eighteen years. Her death was occa- sioned by the accident of falling from her horse. The people assembling for worship on thanksgiving day, were met by the tidings that their minister's wife was in the agonies of death. A deep impression seems to have been made by the event. The afflicted husband preached in his place on the sabbath following, from 2 Cor. i. 3, 4 ; and late in life declared, that he never "before or since witnessed a more solemn assembly than on that occasion." The tenderness with which the memory of this early object of his affections dwelt upon his mind, is manifested in a little poem in which he vented his feelings when more than seventy years of age. Mrs. Worcester seems to have been a woman well deserving to be loved and remembered ; of quick parts and amiable dispositions ; " modest, prudent, industrious, truly pious, and highly esteemed by the people of the parish in which she lived ; as well as an exemplary wife and affectionate mother." Alas, how much illustrious worth in private places goes down unrecorded to the grave ! Let us, when we can, snatch from oblivion some of the humble names which were precious in their day, and cause them to live a 22 NOAH WORCESTER. little longer on the earth which they did something to adorn and bless. Left with the charge of eight children, under cir- cumstances of great trial and difficulty, it soon became imperative on the bereaved father to provide as he best might for their well-being. The sisters of his deceased wife joined with others in the advice, and he was married on the twenty-second of May, 1798, to Miss Hannah Huntington, a native of Norwich, Connecticut, then residing in Hanover, N. H. She lived to be the comforter of his later years, and died five years before him. " To her economy, industry, prudence, and unwearied sohcitude for his health and prosperity," he declared himself " nnich indebted, not only for his comfort, but for his ability to bring up his children and to pursue his studies." In 1802, on the formation of the New Hampshire Missionary Society, Mr. Worcester was selected as its first missionary ; and in that character travelled and preached in the northern towns of New Hamp- shire, during the autumn of that year, and during the summer of 1804, and perhaps at other times. In the latter part of the year 1806 he met with an accident, which was the occasion of much suffering and continued infirmity. This was a partial rupture of the muscles from the tendons of the legs. For many months he was unable to walk or stand. The great change thus produced in his habits, brought on the dropsical tendencies, which did not leave him for three or four years. He never recovered the use of his limbs so as to walk with ease. Prior to this he had been a man of uncommon muscular power. He was noted for his capacity of labor on a farm. Very NOAH WORCESTER. 23 few, it is said, were willing to compete with him. This vigor of his younger days, stands in melancholy contrast with the feebleness of his body after he had passed the prime of life. The time was now drawing near when he was to leave his home and the people to whom for twenty- three years he had ministered. It was but a small flock, and in humble circumstances. Notwithstand- ing their attachment to their minister, whose faithful services they appreciated, and whom they had seen rising in the midst of them, till he had become one of the most widely known and honored in the State, they yet found themselves unequal to his adequate support. When, therefore, in the fall of 1809, he received an invitation from Salisbury, to remove thither and take charge for a season of his brother's congregation, who was disabled by ill health, they consented to the dissolution of his connection with the Society. His connection with the Church was how- ever retained, in the hope that he would return to them again. But this hope was vain. The progress of his studies had led to changes in his theological views, which were already preparing the way for a final and complete separation. His people, however, notwithstanding these changes, were willing and de- ' sirous to retain him among them as their minister. " Though my change of sentiments relating to the Trinity Avas prior to my removal from Thornton, and well known to the people of my charge, yet this change was in no degree the occasion of my removal from that place. It occasioned no alienation on the part of my people. I lived with them in friendship to the last. I parted from them in friendship ; and with 24 NOAH WORCESTER. SO much hope and expectation on both sides that I should return to them again, that the Church unani- mously preferred that I should not be dismissed from them, although I had resigned my civil contract with the Town." By consent of all parties, he accordingly removed to Salisbury in February, 1810, and continued there as the assistant or substitute of his brother for about three years. We have now arrived at the great turning point in Mr. Worcester's life. At the time of his removal to Salisbury in February, 1810, he was engaged in the publication of a book which announced the result of his studies and thoughts on the doctrine of the Trinity, and which became the occasion of his separation from the associates and scenes of his past life. This was no hasty or ill considered publication. It was the fruit of long, anxious, and deliberate inquiry. As long ago as the year 1796, in the " Theological Magazine " for January and February of that year, he had published a series of questions, " respecting the Personality of the Redeemer." These questions, while they evinced a mind in a state of inquiry and asking for light, yet plainly indicated that it had become wholly alienated from the common doctrine of a tri-personal deity. From this time, the subject had been a topic of frequent conversation between Mr. Worcester and his brethren in the ministry ; to whom, both individually and at meetings of associa- tions, he read papers expository of the views he was inclined to adopt. After so much and so protracted study and discussion, in the course of which his opin- NOAH WORCESTER. 25 ions went through considerable modifications before they assumed their final shape, and which occasioned no breach of fellowship with his brethren of the clergy, though some of them expressed great con- cern, — his mind being at length quite settled, he pre- pared and published his Avork. It was entitled " Bible News ; or Sacred Truths relating to the Living God, his only Son, and Holy Spirit."* It happened, as perhaps was natural, that those who were willing to continue their accustomed fel- lowship with him so long as his heretical opinions were confined to conversation and private discussion, felt themselves called upon to withdraw their counte- nance when he appeared as their public promulgator and defender. This seems to have been wholly un- expected to him, and was severely felt by him as a wound. His sensitive mind suffered keenly from the symptoms of coldness and alienation by which the publication was followed. This the rather surprised and grieved him, because he had received the highest marks of confidence from his brethren long after his heresies had been distinctly known to them. "If at any time," he said, " they had cause to be offended on account of my sentiments, they had it many years ago." It was eight years previous, that, with an ex- press understanding of his heterodox tendency, he had been employed as first missionary of the New Hamp- * Tills is the title of tlie second edition of the book ; but the title of the first edition read thus : — Bible News of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in a series of letters, in four parts. 1. On the Unfty of God. 2, On the Real Divinity and Glory of Christ. 3. On the character of the Holy Spirit. 4. An examination of difficult passages of Scripture. The whole addressed to a worthy minister of the Gospel, by Noali Worcester, A. M., Pastor of the church in Thornton. 26 NOAH WORCESTER. shire Missionary Society, and had received a certifi- cate so strongly recommendatory, that he " doubted whether it were consistent with becoming modesty to show or read it, unless credentials were demanded of him." The discomfort which this occasioned him was great and lasting ; and he found himself imme- diately engaged in conflict, not only with his former associates, but with the public. The Hopkinton As- sociation, of which he was a member, passed a vote * condemnatory of his book, the following August ; and in November, was published " An Address to the Churches in connexion with the General Association of New Hampshire, on the subject of the Trinity." A few extracts from remaining MSS. of Dr. Wor- cester will put the reader in complete possession of the state of his mind both while he was seeking for the truth, and when, having found it, as he firmly be- lieved, he began first to experience the oppositions and alienations which become the inevitable lot of him who departs from long received and popular doc- trines on important subjects. He thus speaks : — " Such was my confidence in the correctness of the * This vote was in these words : " Voted, that the doctrine contained in the above-named pubhcations, is, in our opinion, a departure from the pure faitt'of the Church of Christ; tends to strengthen the enemies, and thereby greatly to injure the cause of Zion." Mr. Worcester pubhshed, "A respectful Address to the Trinitarian Clergy relating to their manner of treating opponents." 12ino. pp. 50. '' A Parable occasioned by ^ late portentous Phenomenon ; by the Pilgrim Good- Intent." pp. 24. " A Stranger's Apology for the Genen.l Associations." pp. 24. Also, several articles in the General Repository ; viz. Vol. i. p. 73 ; ii, 1 ; iii. 6. His brother Thomas likewise published " A Defence of Truth and Chaiacler against Ecclesiastical Intolerance." pp. 24. NOAH WORCESTER. 27 doctrine of the Trinity, that for a considerable num- ber of years, after difficulties and objections occurred, I employed all my powers to obviate the objections, to find support for the doctrine, and to invent some illustration which might show the doctrine to be con- sistent with reason. Not far from the time that I was approbated for the ministry, I wrote something by way of illustration which I exhibited to my friend Mr. Church. I supposed it to be possible with God to form a being with three distinct heads and minds united to one body. This, I imagined might be an apt illustration of three persons in one being or one God. With this view of the subject, I rested pretty quietly for several years. But on a more careful attention to the language of Christ in relation to the Father and himself, observing how constantly he represents himself as not God, but one sent by God ; dependent on God, obedient to God, doing the will of God, and not his own will, it became impossible for me to reconcile such language to the idea that he himself was the supreme Jehovah, or the same being as the Father. " A httle before I was twenty-one years of age, while on a journey, I took up a little tract written by Mr. Emlyn. I read it perhaps an hour. I thought he reasoned forcibly, but persuaded myself he did not satisfactorily set aside the argument from the words of Christ, ' I, and my Father are one.' For a num- ber of years, I relied more on that text to support the idea that Christ is God, than any other in the Bible. I do not recollect to have read any thing else against the doctrine of the Trinity after that time, till I hap- pened to see the life of Dr. Watts ; except a note in 28 NOAH WORCESTER. a pamphlet, which contained forcible remarks, and a severe censure on the ' damnatory clauses of the Athanasian creed,' as used by the church of England. That note, I well recollect, excited in my mind a kind of horror which occasioned me to lay the pamphlet aside, and to put it in such a place that it would not be likely to fall into the hands of others. " I think it was about the year 1806 that I obtained the reading of Watts's life, accompanied by extracts from his writings, in the latter part of his life, on the Son and the Spirit of God. Soon after this I ob- tained the System of Divinity written by Dr. Hop- kins. Of each of these Doctors I had a high opinion. I therefore resolved to compare their writings as they related to the doctrine of the Trinity. They were strongly opposed to each other in their views of the Son, and the Spirit. After examining and compar- ing, I found myself unable to answer the arguments of Dr. Watts, but those of Dr. Hopkins I could answer to my own satisfaction. It appeared to me that Dr. Watts fairly proved that the Son of God was entirely dependent, that all his divinity consisted in the Father dwelling in him, and that the Spirit of God is not a different person, but the active energy of the Father. " On becoming acquainted with the views of Dr. Watts, I found it j)ossible for a man of acknowledged piety to be a dissenter from the contested doctrine. I had, therefore, less fear of the consequences of a thorough examination. If Watts could deny the in- dependence of the Son of God and the personality of the Holy Spirit, a belief in the doctrine of three equal persons in the one God cannot be essential to NOAH WORCESTER. * 29 piety and salvation. Such was my inference on find- ing so good a man as Watts among the dissenters from the doctrine. Prior to this my inquiries were very far from being impartial or free. For I was not only biased by jJ^epossessions in favor of the doctrine, but fettered by fears that inquiry might land me on ground that might endanger my Christian character, and my future happiness. Being in a great measure freed from these fetters, I pursued my inquiries with greater freedom and more satisfaction to my own mind. I had, however, no writings to aid me in my inquiries written by any dissenter from the doctrine, except what I found in the Life of Watts, till after I had published Bible News. " But prior to this I had found, to my own satisfac- tion, that neither Moses and the Prophets, nor Christ and his apostles, had any belief in the doctrine of the " Three one God ; " that they were all Unitarian in- structors, that is, they all represented Jehovah as One, and not as Three. In all my inquiries relating to the Trinity, prior to publishing, I had no conversation or correspondence with any dissenter from the doctrine. The reiterated reproaches and denunciations against all ministers of this description, had so prepossessed my own mind against them, that I had no wish to consult them. During these inquiries, after writing much, but prior to pubhshing, I had occasion to pass through Boston, on my way from Connecticut to New Hampshire. I indeed stopped in the town to visit others, but I avoided making myself known to any minister of the town. This course was adopted from an unwillingness to have any intercourse with Unita- rian ministers while engaged in such an inquiry. Such 30 * NOAH WORCESTER. unfortunate prejudices would probably have retained their hold on my mind longer than they did, had I not been taught by experience, that little reliance is to be placed on representations which party passions give of those who avow a dissent from popular doc- trines. This lesson I was soon taught, after my own dissent from the doctrine of the Trinity had been published. When I saw a number of my former friends and brethren in the ministry disposed to treat me in an unbrotherly manner, and to adopt measures which tended directly to the ruin of my character and usefulness, without any cause known to me, except the avowed change in my opinions, it was perhaps natural for me to infer that many of the reproaches cast on other dissenters from the doctrine originated in the same unkind and misguided zeal ; — a zeal which violates . the most important precepts of the gospels in support of a doctrine which no mortal un- derstands." " You will naturally expect that I shall give some account relating to the change in my opinions on the doctrine of the Trinity. In the book entitled ' Bible News,' and in the ' Respectful Address to the Trini- tarian Clergy,' I gave some account of what had been the operations of my mind, and the occasion of the chan2:e which had occurred. I have therefore the less to say on that subject in these letters. *' It may be proper here to remark that I have no recollection of knowing that my integrity, piety, or Christian character was ever called in question from the time I made a public profession of religion, till after I published my dissent from the doctrine of the NOAH WORCESTER. 3i Trinity. Even after it was known to my brethren in the ministry that I had dissented from that doctrine, they still treated me as a brother till after ray first book on that subject was pubhshed. " After the New Hampshire Missionary Society was organized, I became a member, and was ap- pointed as their first missionary. To induce me to accept that appointment, I was told by the first trus- tee that it was the Avish of the Board, that I should go at that time, because, in their view, it was very desi- rable that their first missionary should be one whose character and talents would make a favorable impres- sion in regard to the society and its objects. He also mentioned that it was thought my ability to preach without notes would be much in favor of the mission in the region to which they wished me to go. " When I met the Trustees to receive my instruc- tions and recommendation, another of the Board in- formed me, privately, that their regulations required that I should be examined. But he apologized for their pretending to examine one in whom they had such entire confidence. He said, however, that it was necessary to conform to the regulations, and the precedent might be very useful on future occasions, as they might not in all instances be so satisfied prior to examination ; but if I consented to be examined, others would not object. I freely consented to the proposed examination. I think all the Trustees, ex- cept one, were aware that I had then adopted Watts's views of the doctrine of the Trinity. That subject, however, was soon introduced, and occasioned some discussion. I frankly avowed my belief, and told them if this was any objection, I was willing to relin- 32 NOAH AVORCESTER. quish the mission. After all that passed on the sub- ject, they gave me a recommendation as ample as any modest man would have desired. " While I was writing the work which was after- wards published, a considerable part of it was read to three different Associations of ministers. Still I had no evidence that any individual of either was at all disposed to withdraw from me the hand of fellowship. But after the book was published, I experienced severe trials from several brethren, who had long been esteemed by me as cordial friends. "How far I was honest in my inquiries must be referred to the Searcher of hearts. That I was unbi- ased while pursuing the inquiry, it would be folly in me to pretend. For all prejudices resulting from education, from regard to worldly interest, and to my own reputation, were thrown into the scale in favor of the doctrine. I had been educated in the belief, that the doctrine was true and essential, and I was well aware that my friends in the ministry were disposed to doubt the piety of dissenters from the doctrine. I had heard so much cf the heresy, infidelity, and ir re- ligion of those who had departed from the doctrine, that the thought of becoming of that class of ministers often filled my mind with dismay. But notwithstand- ing all these prepossessing and repulsive circumstances to bias my mind, such was the force of scripture lan- guage, and particularly the language of Christ himself, that I could not resist it ; but was led by it first to doubt the truth of the popular doctrine, and finally to dissent from it, at the risk of my character and worldly prospects. I have not, however, mentioned these facts as any proof of the correctness of the opinion which I NOAH WORCESTER. 33 formed ; but I think that Christian candor might admit them as some proof of my sincerity, and that I Avas not influenced in my decision by selfish considerations. " I am, however, aware that some suggested a sus- picion that I was influenced by a hope that I should become the head of an anti-Trinitarian sect in this country. It might, perhaps, be well for such persons to examine their own hearts, to ascertain whether the suspicion arose from that love which ' hopeth all things, thinketh no evil, and seeketh not her own.' I may have given more reason than I am aware of for others to suspect that I have been ambitious to be- come the demagogue of a party ; but as far as self- knowledge extends I may say with truth that such a motive had no place in directing my inquiries or my decisions. I was not so perfectly ignorant of the state of things in our country as not to anticipate painful consequences to myself, should my inquiries result in a conviction that the popular doctrine was untrue. I kncAv too well what was said of others, to expect that I might renounce the doctrine of the Trinity and still escape reproach." What is especially interesting and instructive in these statements, is the evidence they afford of a devout and inquisitive mind, in the solitude of its own thoughts, without guidance, teaching, or advice from any Master in Israel, but dependent alone on its Bible and its prayers, — finding its way to inter- pretations of revelation widely different from those usually admitted in the Church ; — and this in the midst of misgivings and alarms ; in spite of prejudices against these interpretations so inwrought and violent as to render them odious, and to make all their advo- 34 NOAH WORCESTER. cates objects of distrust and suspicion; — in spile of the knowledge that to avow them, was to encounter obloquy, desertion, loss of influence, and probably exile. How interesting to look back to that lowly retreat, and see in imagination that fervent, conscien- tious inquirer, fighting against the opposition of his own mind, the sacred associations of the past, the threaten- ing evils of the future, the fears of friends, the anath- ema of church, — yet steadily, resolutely giving heed to the scripture alone, and following where it leads in opposition to all the jarring voices of commentators and councils. The controversy in his own mind was not awakened from abroad ; it was not carried on by help of the discussions that were going on in the commu- nity ; it Avas finished with himself before it began Avith the country ; he awakened the discussion, not the dis- cussion him ; and he came out from this solitary pro- cess — unscathed by the war that had been going on within — to give the world a new proof that it is pos- sible to speak the truth in love in spite of the most adverse circumstances, and to retain the devotedness and sweetness of the Christian spirit though departing from the orthodoxy of the Christian faith. As an argument for the correctness of the Unita- rian construction of Christian doctrine, too much should not be made of this, or any similar example ; — as undoubtedly has been sometimes done ; — for in- stances very nearly if not quite parallel have occurred in the passing of members of any one community of Christians to any other ; and any church might be proved the true church, and any church false, if such reasoning were allowed. The true inference to be drawn, and that a most mighty and delightful one, is. NOAH WORCESTER. 35 that the essential vitality of Christianity does not lie in certain doctrinal dogmas ; but that every faithful, devout, conscientious inquirer finds it, whatever may be the form in which his notions of certain dogmas rest. The great Father seems intentionally to show his children how worthless in his eyes are their notions and speculations on all those inaccessible subjects, by allowing their minds under the brightest illumination, and after the most earnest, laborious investigation, to find peace in the most opposite results. What a sig- nificant rebuke does this plain fact give to the arro- ' ganee of sectarianism I It was with the profound consciousness of truth like this, that Mr. Worcester came out from his anx- iety, his studies, his controversies, and his sorrows, with a liberality as wide as Christendom, and a mod- esty as gentle as his love of truth was strong. Confi- dent but not arrogant, and persuaded that Love, the Christian spirit, is better than the reception of doc- trinal truth, his life became henceforth one living and perpetual plea for charity, and one uninterrupted protestation against any form of ill will, oppression, and dogmatism. The public attention was thus effectually drawn to the subject. In Boston especially, and its vicinity, the state of opinion was such as to cause this transac- tion to be regarded with great interest. The progress of opinion, which had there been long silent and un- observed, was coming into greater activity and mani- festing itself in outward expressions. There were already symptoms of an approaching controversy. The appearance at this moment of a bold and free- minded advocate of liberty and truth, bursting away by 36 NOAH WORCESTER. solitary study and the unaided action of his own mind from the old prescriptive theology, was well adapted to make a sensation. Mr. Worcester became an ob- ject of much interest and sympathy, and his cause Avas made identical with the great movement against ecclesiastical authority. A new journal adapted to the condition of the times was about being established. In looking round for some one to take the editorial charge of it, who would unite talent in writing, and skill in reasoning, with Christian gentleness of manner and a catholic largeness of spirit, the projectors of the work turned their eyes to Mr. Worcester, and sum- moned him from his retirement. He was personally unknown to them and they to him. But they were drawn toward him by sympathy with his admirable spirit of freedom and firmness united with liberality and devotion, and could not doubt that it was he to whom the new enterprise should be given. In the letter addressed to him in opening the correspon- dence, January 11, 1813, they said: — " It has long been the opinion of many friends of Scriptural truth, that we need a periodical publication, which shall be adapted to the great mass of Chris- tians, and the object of which shall be to increase their zeal and seriousness, to direct their attention to the Scriptures, to furnish them with that degree of Biblical criticism which they are capable of receiving and applying, to illustrate obscure and perverted passages, and, though last not least, to teach them their Christian rights, to awaken a jealous attachment to Christian liberty, to show them the ground of Con- gregationalism, and to guard them against every enemy, who would bring them into bondage. Our NOAH WORCESTER. 37 conviction of the importance of this work has been strengthened by the appearance of a pubHcation in the Panophst, recommending the immediate erection of ecclesiastical tribunals. " You may expect aid from gentlemen in this town and vicinity. "With the sentiments of these gentlemen you are generally acquainted. They are not precisely agreed as to the person or dignity of Christ, nor do they wish that the work should be devoted to any particular view of that subject. Whilst they are willing to admit the arguments of all sects, they wish chiefly to exhibit those relations and ofiices of Christ which Christians generally acknowledge, and to pro- mote a spirit of forbearance and charity among those who differ on this and other difficult subjects. As to the peculiarities of Calvinism, they are opposed to them, without censuring those who embrace them. They are opposed to that system, particularly as it prostrates the independence of the mind, as it teaches men that they are naturally incapable of discerning religious truth, as it thus generates a timid and super- stitious dependence on those who profess to have been brought from darkness into light, as it so commonly infuses into its professors a censorious, uncharitable spirit. You will do us the justice to believe, that in this business we are not actuated by the spirit of partisans. We have long given proof of our aversion to contention by bearing patiently and silently misre- presentations of our characters and se/itiments. We have no desire to diffuse any religious peculiarities. Our great desire is to preserve our fellow Christians from the systematic and unwearied efforts which are making to impose on them a human creed, and to 4 38 NOAH WORCESTER. infuse into them angry and bitter feelings towards those who differ from them. Our great desire is, to direct men to the word of God, and to awaken in those Christians who receive this as their only stand- ard, a more devout, serious, earnest, and affectionate piety than they often discover." We must copy here at length Br. Worcester's account of the transaction, which was to make so entire a change in his life. " At the very time my brother seemed to be regain- ing his health, so that there was a probability that he might resume his labors, I received an invitation, as you well know, from clergymen Avhom I had never seen, and Avith whom I had no prior correspondence, to remove to the vicinity of Boston, and become the Editor of the Christian Disciple — a periodical work then about to be established. I could not but regard in this occurrence the hand of a merciful God. The prejudices of many of the clergy of New Hampshire had become so much excited on account of my change of opinion, that I deemed it very improbable that I should find any employment in that State as a preacher, should I leave Salisbury. Indeed I had thought it probable that I should be obliged to leave the State and go to Canada for employment. The invitation, therefore, to become the editor of the Christian Disciple I accepted with feelings of gratitude to my divine Benefactor, and to the four strangers* who thus pro- vided for me an asylum. It was not, however, with- out deep concern that I accepted the invitation. I had serious doubts with respect to my qualifications for the work proposed. Not only so, my prejudices, which * Dr. Channing, Dr Lowell, Dr. Tuckerman, and Rev. S. C. Thaclier. NOAH WORCESTER. 39 had arisen from clamor and reproach against the persons who gave the invitation, were such, that I had strong fears that they would not be found by me persons in whose society I might find satisfaction. Hence, prior to removing, I deemed it prudent to visit them and become personally acquainted with them. I did so, and found them, as I thought, very different characters from such as had been described 10 me. I had indeed reason to suppose that on various subjects their opinions were different from mine. Of this difference they were not ignorant. ' But they appeared to me not only men of intelligence, but of candor and piety — not disposed to make our differ- ences of opinion an occasion of alienation. " In May, 1813, I removed with my family to Brighton, and conducted the Christian Disciple to the close of 1818. I then relinquished it on account of debility. I never regretted, and never thought I had any reason to regret my connection with the four clergymen who invited me to this vicinity. Several years before I gave up the work a fifth gentleman became associated as one of the proprietors, whose benevolence to me will, I hope, be rewarded by God.* All my associates were to me both friends in need and friends indeed ; and I cannot but regard them as the friends of God, and of the best interests of mankind." In May, 1813, as we have seen, Mr. Worcester took up his abode at Brighton. No change could well be greater than that which now took place in the circumstances of his being. His whole position in society, his public and his private relations, were * The Rev. Francis Parkman, D. D. 40 NOAH WORCESTER. altered. A new home, and a wholly new ch'cle of associates, friends, and pursuits awaited him. His mind being now settled on the great subject which for so many years had exercised and agitated it ; being withdrawn from the scenes of excitement and contro- versy which had grown out of his publication ; he was free to engage without restraint in whatever other subjects of truth or duty should present themselves. It did not suit the character of his mind to be without some subject of absorbing interest ; and he soon found himself taken up with two trains of thought, which for some time gave direction to his life. The first of these was favored by his duties as editor of the Christian Disciple. That journal not being designed for doc- trinal and controversial discussion, nor for theological learning, but for the instruction of the people in their rehgious rights, and the promotion of spiritual and moral improvement, he gave himself freely to the advocacy of the great duty of Liberty and Charity ; making that work distinguished for its unqualified devotedness to the individual rights of opinion, and the sacred duty of a liberal regard to them in other men. His own experience had led him to think much of the evils of controversy, and of the Christian duties of forbearance, gentleness, candor, and charity toward those who differ in religious opinion. Bigotry and censoriousness seemed to him among the greatest crimes of the Christian church. Every thing that he henceforth wrote bore testimony to his deep feeling on this subject ; and till his Avritings and his life became one continual plea for liberality and love. The " Disciple," as it came forth with its monthly burden to the church, might remind one of the aged NOAH WORCESTER. 41 disciple John, who is said from sabbath to sabbath to have risen before the congregation to repeat the affectionate exhortation, " Little children, love one another." The other subject was not unconnected with this : that of War and Peace. It had enlisted his earnest attention before leaving New Hampshire ; it soon grew to be the chief topic of his life ; by which he was to earn the title of a Benefactor of Mankind, and be remembered and honored to the latest age. His own statement we copy here from his autobio- graphical letters, written in 1823. " When a child I was delighted with military exer- cises and parade. While very young I was chosen captain of a company of boys. For several years prior to the Revolution there was considerable talk of a war between Great Britain and the people of this country. Before this I had heard of the Quaker opinion, and this was perhaps all I had ever heard against war. But when the prospect of a war with Britain had become a topic of conversation, I had opportunity to hear the Quaker opinion not only expressed but vindicated by a neighbor, who was edu- cated among Quakers, and had imbibed their views of war. He, however, was a Baptist preacher. Though I listened to his arguments, I was little influenced by them, for my father and a multitude of others were on the other side of the question. So little was I influ- enced by arguments against war, that on the next evening after the war commenced, I enlisted volunta- rily as a soldier. During the two campaigns that I was in the army, I do not recollect that I had any scruples of conscience in regard to the lawfulness of 4* 42 NOAH AVORCESTER. the business in which I Avas engaged ; yet I was not jDleased with the life of a soldier. "Before the close of the war I Avas married, and settled in Plymouth, N. H. Soon after this the Rev. E. Estabrook Avas ordained in Thornton. He AA'as knoAvn as a minister Avho denied the laAvfulness of Avar. In a short time after his settlement, I had a Avish to remove to Thornton, but I had some scruples in regard to sitting under the ministry of one, Avho in regard to Avar held the Quaker principle to be correct. But as he Avas deemed a pious man, and Avas prudent in regard to urging his vicAvs of Avar, seldom mention- ing them in his discourses, I concluded to become one of his parishioners. Soon after I removed to Thorn- ton I was requested to serve the tOAvn as a selectman. The tOAvn Avas called on for a soldier to serve during the Avar ; and my office required me to hire the sol- dier. This I did, Avithout any scruple as to the laAv- fulness of the service. This Avas near the close of the Avar, and it Avas perhaps the last service I Avas called to perform in favor of the Revolutionary strug- gle. About the time the Avar closed, Mr. Estabrook put into my hands a book to read in Avhich the princi- ples of Avar Avere examined in respect to their agree- ment or disagreement Avith the precepts of the gospel. I have forgotten the name of the author, if it Avas in the book. The Avork had a poAverful influence on my mind, and though I did not feel convinced that defen- sive war Avas unlaAvful, my vieAvs and feelings on the subject of Avar became greatly changed, even in regard to trainings and every thing of a military character. I could no longer take pleasure in any thing of a mili- tary nature. I had not, hoAA'ever, thoroughly exam- NOAH WORCESTER. 43 ined the subject, and I still retained the idea that defensive war and preparations for war were necessary evils, and to be supported as means for preventing greater evils. I did not then understand that all wars are conducted in an offensive as well as defensive manner, nor that the spirit of all war is repugnant to the spirit required by the gospel, and exemplified by the Prince of Peace. My ideas on the subject were dark, perplexed, and confused. After I became the minister of Thornton, I was regularly requested to pray with the military company when they met for training. This duty I performed under the delusive impression, that being prepared for war was the surest means of preventing war. This was then the popular doctrine, in which I acquiesced. But in praying on such occasions, I ever felt deeply, that the business of war was horrible, and opposed to ray own feelings as a Christian, and to the spirit which, as a minister, I constantly inculcated. I used to pray that the busi- ness on which we met, might be the means of prevent- ing the necessity of our ever again having occasion to resort to the use of military weapons. I had another motive for attending the trainings. My people ap- peared to have a sincere affection for me ; and I had a hope that my presence and my prayers might be the means of preventing disorderly and vicious conduct. But long before I left Thornton, I became fully con- vinced that the military trainings and reviews were not merely useless, but exceedingly pernicious in regard to the morals of the community ; that they were in fact means of danger, and not of safety to the country. This opinion I freely expressed to the Colonel of the regiment, who was also a member of the State legisla- 44 NOAH WORCESTER. ture. As a substitute for trainings, I then proposed nearly the same plan which was since proposed by General Calvin Jones, of Ncyrth Carolina, on resigning his office of Major General of the militia. " The war of 1812, between Great Britain and the United States, was the occasion of perfecting the revolution in my mind in regard to the lawfulness of Avar. I was residing in Salisbury when war was de- clared. I had been for several months very attentive to the measures which were pursued to exasperate the minds of the people, and prepare them for the horrid conflict. I was indeed well satisfied that our country had suffered injuries from Great Britain, by the im- pressment of our seamen, and by spoliations under the Orders in Council. But I was also satisfied that these evils were exaggerated by the representations of our people ; and that the impressment of our seamen was not authorized by the government of Great Britain. I regarded the war as having resulted from our own party contests, and the indulgence of vile passions ; — and, on the whole, as unnecessary and unjust. Soon after the war commenced, I preached two sermons with a view to lead my hearers to proper reflections on the danger of indulging party passions, and the practice of reviling. In these I gave no opinion on the justice of the war. The discourses were pub- lished, and were applauded by the people of both par- ties. On the day appointed by Mr. Madison for national fasting, I delivered a discourse on the pacific conduct of Abraham and Lot to avoid hostilities between their herdsmen. The President had called on ministers of the gospel to pray for the success of our arms. This I could not do ; and I deemed it my NOAH WORCESTER. 45 duty to assign my reasons for the neglect. This part of my duty I endeavored to perform in a manner both impressive and inoffensive. This discourse was also published, but it gave offence to the advocates for the war. Though I could not pray for the success of our arms, I could pray that the lives of the soldiers on both sides might be preserved, and such were my prayers during the war. " In 1813, I removed from Salisbury to Brighton. There I had much opportunity to become acquainted with the baneful influence of the war spirit, and with the progress of the war. The more I observed and reflected, the more I was shocked with the barbarity of war and its demoralizing influence, its contrariety to Christianity, and every benevolent feeling. In 1814 my .mind became so impressed with the subject, that I resolved to make the inquiry whether the custom of war was not the effect of popular delusion. When I began to write, I aimed at nothing more than an arti- cle for the Christian Disciple, of which I was then the Editor. But as I wrote, my mind became more and more interested, and instead of a short article for a periodical work, I wrote the Solemn Review of the Custom of War, which was published in December, I think the very week that the Treaty of Peace was signed at Ghent. " While writing that part I became thoroughly con- vinced that war is the effect of delusion, totally repug- nant to the Christian religion, and wholly unnecessary except as it becomes necessary from delusion and the basest passions of human nature ; that when it is waged for a redress of wrongs, its tendency is to mul- tiply wrongs a hundred fold ; and that in principle, 46 NOAH WORCESTER. the best we can make of it, is doing evil that good may come. It is now more than eight years since I began to write the Solemn Review ; and I believe I may say with truth, that when awake, the subject of war has not been absent from my mind an hour at a time in the whole course of the eight years. On the most thorough examination I am firmly of the opinion that there has never been an error among Christians more grossly anti-christian, or more fatal in its effects, than those which are the support of war ; that what are called preparations for war are the natural means of producing the calamity, — ■ and that the popular belief, that being prepared for war is the means for avoiding it, has been contradicted by the experience of more than a thousand years among the nations of Christendom. In asserting my present views, I have this consolation, that the more there are'Avho embrace them, the fewer there will be to encourage and pro- mote the horrid practice, and the more there will be to employ their influence for its abohtion ; and that if all men would cordially adopt such views, war would be rendered impossible. " Though I frankly express my own views of war and my perfect abhorrence of the military system of national rapine and murder, as perfectly needless, unjust, and opposed to the spirit of the gospel, I have no doubt that many men better than myself, have been of a different opinion. I cannot, however, but doubt whether they would or could have long continued of the opposite opinion, had they bestowed half as much attention on the subject as I have done, or as they have probably bestowed on other subjects of far less importance. I suspect that no one thing in the history NOAH WORCESTER. 4? of Christians will cause greater astonishment to pos- terity in a more enlightened age of the world, than the fact, that professed ministers of the Gospel throughout Christendom have been so generally advocates and abettors of war ; and that while Christians of different sects have been alienated from each other, and have spent much of their time in contending about unintel- ligible and unimportant dogmas, they could unite in the atrocious work of shedding human blood in the political contests of nations. Private or individual murders are justly esteemed and punished as among the grossest of human crimes ; yet wholesale murder for the settlement of trivial national controversies has been licensed, sanctioned, and even commended by the rulers of Christian nations, and applauded by the ministers of the Christian religion of almost every sect in Christendom ! " Notwithstanding all my zeal in the cause of peace, and the perfect conviction of mind that the war spirit and all the forms of national hostilities are in direct opposition to the precepts and the spirit of the gospel, I have never felt myself authorized to make my own views of the subject a test of the Christian character, or to call in question the piety of my fellow Christians who have been advocates and promoters of war. But I can say with the greatest truth, that I am unacquainted with any errors which have been adopted by any sect of Christians, which appear to me more evidential of a depraved heart than those which sanction war, and dispose men to glory in slaughtering one another. Should we call to mind any one of the supposed essential doctrines of any sect of Christians in New England, we might ask with confidence, what is the 48 NOAH WORCESTER. evil of denying or disbelieving that doctrine, when compared with the evil of believing that it is consistent with the spirit and precepts of the gospel for Christians of different nations to engage in war — to meet in the field of battle and destroy one another, by hundreds, by thousands, and by tens of thousands ? If a man of apparently good character avows a belief that human infants are not by nature totally sinful, there are a multitude of churches who would refuse to admit him to their fellowship. Yet another man who believes in the doctruie of total sinfulness by nature, may perhaps be admitted to their communion, with his hands wreak- ing with the blood of many brethren whom he has wantonly slam in the games of war, and this, too, while he justifies those fashionable murders ! " The sermon on the National Fast, in August, 1812, mentioned in the passage just quoted, is a discourse of great clearness and power ; a worthy beginning of the work to which its author afterward devoted so large a portion of his hfe. It is partly occupied in showing that the war then recently declared was without suffi- cient justification, and so far might be thought open to the charge of having a party design. But it was writ- ten in any but a partisan spirit ; with great solemnity and moderation ; and stales fundamental principles Avhich are independent of all temporary circumstan- ces. The publication of this sermon may be regarded as the first act in that powerful operation which was henceforth to constitute the main object of his life. Without losing his interest in other subjects, he conse- crated himself to this. After being for a brief season diverted from it by the care of the Christian Disciple NOAH WORCESTER. ' 49 and other unwonted occupations in a new abode, he in 1814 gave vent to his whole soul in that remarka- ble tract, " A Solemn Review of the Custom of War ; " one of the most successful and efficient pamphlets of any period. It has been translated into many languages, and circulated extensively through the world. It is one of the chief instruments by which the opinions of society have been affected within the present century. The season of its publi- cation was favorable ; the world was wearied with battles and longed for rest. It found a response in the heart of the community, and many able men were ready to repeat and enforce its doctrines. It was fol- lowed by the formation of The Massachusetts Peace Society on the 28th of December, 1815, and by the publication of " The Friend of Peace," which began in 1819,* and was continued in quarterly numbers for ten years ; being almost entirely written by himself. This must be looked upon as a very remarkable work. One is surprised at the fertility of resources and the ingenuity of illustration by which he was able for so long a time to vary his expositions of a subject which seems to most persons easily exhausted. To his Avakeful mind every thing that occurred and every thing that he read offered him materials ; he appeared to see nothing which had not a bearing on this one topic ; and his book became a boundless repository of curious, entertaining, striking extracts from writers of all sorts and the history of all times, displaying the criminality and folly of war, and the beauty and effi- cacy of the principles of peace. He threw his rea- sonings and speculations into the most various forms ; * He relinquished the Christian Disciple at tlie close of 1818. 5 50 NOAH WORCESTER. dialogue, epistle, parable, and Verse ; sometimes per- haps languid, often diffuse, but always glowing Avith the truest spirit of humanity and faith ; never extrava- gant, never uncharitable, and often enlivened with a quaint shrewdness of remark and a certain gentle humor and semi-sarcastic satire, which just opened upon the reader like the quiet heat-lightning of a sum- mer day's twilight, and then disappeared. If to some persons, who had less enthusiasm for the subject than himself, he seemed at last to have Avritten out, it is what might have been reasonably anticipated ; but it does not cease to be a matter of astonishment, that he sustained himself so admirably for so long a time, and created four volumes so affluent and powerful as The Friend of Peace. It is to his services in this cause of the highest Phi- lanthropy, that Dr. Worcester owes his chief distinc- tion, and must forever lay solid claim to the reverence and gratitude of mankind. His independent and true- hearted pursuit of truth, his most humble and gentle advocacy of it in catholic writing and holy living, give him place among the eminent disciples of Christ. His labors for peace elevate him to a rank among his Master's most efficient co-workers, and the substantial Benefactors of his race. Here he did something toward a palpable advancement of Christianity and Civihzation. He carried the Avorld perceptibly for- ward. He opened a new era in its history. By commencing a systematic enterprise against war, he set in motion an agency which unites itself with the multitude of other agencies now carrying forward the progress of man, and which are so knit together and so reciprocally strengthen each other, that they make NOAH WORCESTER. 51 sure the conquest of the world. What other Chris- tians had eloquently plead for, but hardly dared to hope, he has made practicable. And we already wit- ness the auspicious result of his efforts. The exten- sive change which has taken place in the sentiments of men respecting war ; the disapprobation expressed in so strong terms by leading statesmen, and the diminished honor paid to military greatness by men of letters ; the readiness with which opportunities of bat- tle are now shunned, when formerly they would have been sought ; and in which mediation has been ac- cepted for peace sake, where nations would once have rushed to blood ; the universal tone of the religious press and the pulpit, so frequent and loud, which for- merly spoke so rarely, and so often in the tone of the common world ; and not least, the express and active combination of Peace Societies, speaking every- where through Christendom by their agents and their books ; all these and other signs which display the coming on of a new day for man, — bear witness to the value of his labors, and attest his claim to be crowned among the substantial Benefactors of earth. Other causes have operated widely, powerfully, profound- ly; the religious, political, commercial condition of men, favor the progress of peace, and by them Pro- vidence is leading forward the great consummation. But they work indirectly and blindly. For the per- manent and indestructible basis of any great improve- ment, there is always needed the foundation of some great principle, well understood and intelligently acted upon. The world can be changed only by a change of its ideas. " Opinion is queen of the world ; " and he does most for peace, who does most to change 52 NOAH WORCESTER. opinion respecting the right and innocence of war, and the duty of peace. Let other influences favor the movement as they may, the grand decisive influ- ence must always be traced to him who set in motion that direct action which goes at once to the bottom of the subject, and aUies the highest truth and sternest motives that govern men, in sacred and uncompromis- ing hostility against the evil. This did Dr. Worcester. He created the combination ; his followers are already legions, and their number daily increases. The change advances rapidly. And in that blessed day which is coming, when war shall no longer be the chief occu- pation of government, and the immense treasures and splendid talents now occupied in corrupting shall be expended in blessing mankind, what name will be repeated with heartier gratitude than that of him who did first and most to accelerate the happy era ; what higher eulogy will be found than the fact which he wished written on his tombstone, " He \\tiote the Friend of Peace." In the year 1828, on completing his 70th .year. Dr. Worcester felt that it was time to relieve himself of some of his burdensome responsibilities, and seek more of that repose to which age invites. He accordingly resigned his office as Secretary of the Peace Society, and discontinued the publication of the Friend of Peace. It was not that he wished to cease from occupation, and abandon himself to repose. His mind was still active, and pursued with eagerness the inquiries in which he Avas interested. It was now turned with engrossing attention to the great question of the purpose and influences of the Saviour's suflTer- NOAH WORCESTER. 53 ings ; and in thinking and writing on this he for a long time occupied his leisure hours. " It was a subject on which I had failed, up to that time, of obtaining views perfectly satisfactory to my own mind. By former inquiries, I had indeed been led to relinquish a con- siderable part of the Calvinistic theory relating to that subject ; still I was much in the dark, and unable to answer many important questions which often occurred to my mind. . . I began to write on the subject in March, 1827. In the course of that year, I obtained such satisfaction on the subject as I never before pos- sessed. In 1828, I revised what I had before written, and made considerable addition to the quantity of manuscripts on various questions. In the autumn of that year my mind became so absorbed in these inquiries, that I found it difficult to write for the Friend of Peace, a work which for twelve years had occupied nearly all my time, and for which I had written with great delight. I found it inconvenient to have my attention divided between two subjects of such importance ; and that I might, for a time, bestow my whole attention on the subject of the Atonement, was one reason why I wished to discontinue the Friend of Peace, and my labors for the Peace Society. From early in December of the last year, to the middle of August in this,' [1829,] my time was incessantly devo- ted to questions relating to the Atonement. . . I may say with truth, that the employment was to me delight- ful ; and I am not without hope that my labors will be found useful to many humble Christians of inquiring minds. For I have not a doubt that many such have been embarrassed by such views of the subject as they received by education." 5* 54 NOAH WORCESTER. The result of these studies Avas given to the Avorld in 1829, in a small volume under the title of " The Atoning Sacrifice, a display of Love not of Wrath." It excited a good deal of attention. It shortly passed through a second edition here, and has been repub- lished three times at least in England. It bears evi- dence of the manner in which it was composed. Being made up of a series of separate essays and inde- pendent inquiries, such as would form successive stages of a minute investigation, and not having been, after the investigation was ended, digested into one orderly treatise, it may be thought to lack the apparent con- catenation and progress which are necessary to give such a work its whole power. But as a collection of materials to aid an anxious inquirer, especially in the elucidation of the many minor questions and the inter- pretation of texts, the book is of inestimable value ; as well as a dehghtful specimen of the tenderness, solemnity, and devoutness of spirit in which so mo- mentous a subject should be treated. The title of the work discloses its aim ; — which was not to decide which of the almost innumerable schemes of the atone- ment is to be received as the scriptural and true ; but to demonstrate that none can be true which does not found its efficacy in the Love of God ; that all notions of a vicarious or substituted punishment, of an opera- tion on the Divine mind whereby it was rendered pla- cable by the satisfaction of blood, are anti-scriptural ; and that therefore all doctrinal expositions which favor them are inadmissible. This idea prevailed more and more in the author's mind as he advanced in years, and came to possess it with such strength, that he appears to have become unable to contemplate the NOAH WORCESTER, 55 common doctrine, without shuddering, or to speak of it without involuntary horror. The numerous papers on the subject which he left behind him show how long and how anxiously his mind dwelt on the subject. He more and more completely and habitually tried all religious views of the Divine character and administra- tion by the standard of the Paternal Relation, and the thought of a vicarious atonement became more and more insupportable. His increasing filial piety shrunk from it with growing abhorrence. " Is it not deeply to be lamented, that a doctrine has been long popular among Christians, which ascribes to God a disposition and character which no ruler nor parent can imitate without becoming odious in the view of well-informed and benevolent men ? " After the publication of this work on the Atone- ment, Dr. Worcester gave his time to the preparation of a small book on " The Causes and Evils of Con- tention among Christians ; " a subject familiar to his thoughts and near his heart, and on which he had in various forms and at various times already written much. It did not occupy him long, and was issued from the press in 1831. He thus expressed his feel- ings on the occasion. " May 19, 1831. The last signature of my Letters to Christians on the Causes and Evils of Contention has been corrected, and the work will probably be published in a few days. It has been my aim to do some good if possible, to correct some injurious opin- ions, to abate the heat of party passions, and to pro- mote that love and harmony among Christians of dif- ferent opinions, which was the object of our Saviour's prayer, as well as of his New Commandment. The 56 NOAH WORCESTER. want of this love, and the indulgence of an opposite spirit have, in my opinion, been the principal obstacles to the progress of Christianity. How the Letters will be received is to me very uncertain. Such are the prejudices of different sects at the present time, as to give reason to fear that many will prejudge what I have written, and refuse to read the book. I hope, however, that there are some candid people of the different sects who will not only read but approve, so far as what I have written is according to the scrip- tures." Dr. Worcester's charitable hopefulness was always strong. Pursuing the train of thought which had so long engaged him, he no^v turned to inquiries relative to the origin and causes of human sinfulness. " Soon after I had published on the atoning sacri- fice, my mind was turned to that of human depravity or man's liability to sin. But it was not without some fear and trembling that I resolved to make a more thorough examination of this interesting subject. It was hardly probable that at so late a period of my life, I should be able to make a very thorough exami- nation of a subject so difficult ; and I felt a reluctance to leaving any thing in writing which might be unsat- isfactory even to myself. " Yet I could not be contented with such views as I then possessed of a subject so interesting to myself and to all our race ; and one in which the character of God is so deeply involved. No view of the subject had then been presented to my mind, which did not in some way or other seem to impeach either the wis- dom or the benevolence of the Deity ; at length I found myself unable to vindicate the wisdom and NOAH WORCESTER. 57 benevolence of God on any theory which I had exam- ined. I had no doubt that his wisdom and benevolence were consistent with man's liability to sin, and with the universality of the fact ; but hoiv they were so I was unable to explain. To obtain a satisfactory explana- tion was the object of my inquiry. I have now great reason to acknowledge the goodness of God in not only prolonging my life and giving me health to pur- sue the inquiry, but in granting me such light on the subject as affords great satisfaction to my own mind. I need not here repeat the circumstances which attended the first burst of hght into my mind, as they are briefly related in a Preliminary statement of Facts, or the First Letter to Friends." But scarcely any other favor of Providence to me has been contem- plated with more pleasure and gratitude, than that in which I seemed to be clearly shown that man's ha- bility to sin has resulted not from the displeasure but the benevolence of God. In no part of my life did I ever enjoy so great happiness in contemplating the character of God, as it is displayed in the government of the Avorld, and his conduct towards mankind, as I have in the last six months. I have written on the subject with great pleasure, and perhaps greater pleas- ure than I had previously written upon this or any other subject. I may add, my conscience bears me witness that it has been my aim to write in such a manner as will exhibit the character of God to my fellow-men in a just and amiable light, corresponding with John's declaration, ' God is love.' " The following is the passage above referred to from the " Preliminary Statement." 58 NOAH WORCESTER. " Though prior to engaging in the ministry I had discarded the doctrine that Adam's posterity ' sinned in him and fell with him,' and also the doctrine of im- putation, I still retained the Hopkinsian idea of an ' established connection' between the sin of Adam and the first moral exercises of his posterity. My views at that period were very similar to those more recently published by Dr. Taylor and his New Haven asso- ciates. Subsequent inquiries, however, had in some respects modified my views of the consequences of Adam's sin, before I wrote the work on the Atoning Sacrifice. On inquiry I could find no proof of the supposed ' established connection.' But the universal liability of mankind^to sin was too obvious to be ques- tioned ; and how to account for this but by the displeas- ure of God was still to me an insurmountable difficulty. With this difficulty on my mind, I commenced a series of inquiries relating to the sources of human depravity, and the importance of Christian education. Month after month I examined the Scriptures, and wrote on different questions. On several points I obtained much satisfaction. Still, however, the question oc- curred, ' How could it be consistent with divine good- ness, that all the posterity of Adam should be sub- jected to such a state of liability to sin as is witnessed in every quarter of the world ? ' " With this question I was embarrassed till early in June, 1830. Then, while intensely pursuing the inquiry, with ardent desires for light, the following questions occurred with the suddenness of lightning : ' Does not liability to sin result from the kindness of God — the numerous favors which he bestows upon NOAH WORCESTER. 59 US, and not from his displeasure ? And on due inquiry will not this be found to be the fact, as the Atoning Sacrifice was found to be a ' display of love, not of wrath ? ' " These questions occurred in such a manner, and with what appeared to me such a divine light, that I could not but regard them as the suggestions of the Divine Spirit, the Comforter which was promised by Christ to teach us all things. I had little time for reflection before a new, spacious, and dehghtful field of contemplation and inquiry was opened to my view, which I have endeavored to portray in the following chapters. Immediately I took my pen to sketch the thoughts which had occurred, that nothing might be lost ; and I wrote with such freedom and delight as I had seldom before experienced. I seemed to myself to have entered a new world of thought and reflection. .At every advancing step, the character of God, like the path of the just, seemed to shine brighter and brighter ; and the guilt and inexcusableness of sin was more and more manifest. " My reading has been too limited for me to say, that other writers have not given a view of the subject similar to the one which may be seen in the following pages. But if they have, I am confident that what they wrote was never read by me. Had such views been presented to my mind forty or even ten years ago, they would have saved me from much perplexity and intense study. But if the views obtained are the truth, they are worth more than all the expense I have been at to obtain them. I must, however, gratefully acknowledge, that they seem to me rather as special 60 NOAH WORCESTER. favors from Heaven, than as the fruits of my own researches. Yet, when discovered, the theory appears so natural, the solution of the difiicuhy so plain, that I cannot but feel amazed that it did not occur to my mind many years ago." This work was published in 1833, in a large duo- decimo volume of more than three hundred pages, under the title of " Last Thoughts on Important Sub- jects : In three Parts ; — 1. Man's Liability to Sin : 2. Supplemental Illustrations : 3. Man's capacity to obey." The general purpose and character of the book are evident from his own language quoted above. Growing out of his thoughts on the Atoning Sacrifice, it is pervaded by the same fundamental idea. His central governing position, the principle from which all his reasoning proceeds and by which his conclu- sions are tested, is the Love of God, in his character of Father. By the analogy of that beautiful Relation he tries all interpretations of doctrine, and holds that nothing can stand which militates against the benignity, tenderness, and justice of a Fatherly government. Hence the tendency to sin in human nature cannot be owing to the blighting influence of Divine displeasure, entailing corruption on the race because offended with the progenitor ; but it results from that lavish goodness of the Creator, which bestows in profusion faculties and bounties, which are necessarily liable to abuse and open to temptation. It is a proof of the infinite Love, not of the wrath of God. This view is set forth in a great variety of statement, with abundance of pertinent and ingenious illustration, and with much acuteness of critical and logical discussion. So that the volume is not, as works on such subjects are too NOAH WORCESTER. 61 apt to be, a dry metaphysical dissertation ; but a col- lection of interesting essays, enlivened with illus- trations by anecdote and parable, instructive with scriptural interpretation, and an earnest vindication of the paternal character of God, and the benignity of the Divine administration. The book is loose in* its arrangement, and in its style diffuse ; but its contents are highly attractive and valuable, and indicate a singular youthfulness of mind in so old a man. While this work was in preparation and passing through the press, the mind of its author became busied with other thoughts, and began with the inter- est of earlier days new investigations in the regions of truth. A singular and admirable example in a man who had completed his threescore and ten, anxious to gain yet more truth, inquisitive for further light, and solicitous to change his views if he can be persuaded of error. We are reminded of the words of Edwards, which stood as the motto of the Theological Magazine in which he was accustomed to write in his younger days, — words, which were fit to be inscribed on the banner under which he marched so long as he remained militant below ; — "I observe that old men seldom have any advantage of new discoveries ; because they are beside a Avay of thinking they have been long used to. -Resolved, if ever I live to years, that I will be impartial to hear the reasons of all pretended dis- coveries, and receive them, if rational, how long soever I have been used to another way of thinking." Dr. Worcester was ready not only to "receive" discover- ies, but to go forth in search of them, a most unusual enterprise for a septuagenarian. How interesting is 6 62 NOAH WORCESTER. the account which he gives of the inquiries to which he was now directing his thought ! " January 28, 1831. On January 2d, 1829, a new query occurred to my mind on reading the following words of Paul : ' We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.' (2 Cor. iv. 7.) These wojds 1 regarded as having been uttered by Paul in relation to himself and the other apostles, who had been endowed with supernatural powers to enable them to propagate and establish the gospel among both Jews and Gentiles. Excepting Paul, all the apostles appear to have been men unlearned when they entered the school of Christ and came under his guidance. They were men who had been educated for fishermen, mechanics, or publicans, and not for any learned pro- fession ; and Paul himself was a tent-maker, though he had been brought up at the feet of Gamaliel. Who but God and his son would have selected such unlearned men, as the primary and principal agents for establishing a new religion, which was destined to make its way in opposition to the most inveterate prejudices of Jews and Gentiles, and to be the means of a moral reformation of the world, and of the eter- nal salvation of innumerable millions of our race ! Yet such it seems was the plan, and the selection of agents adopted by infinite wisdom. Why so ? ' That the excellency of the power might be of God ; ' in other words, that it might be obviously a Avork of God and not of human contrivance. " While pursuing such reflections, in view of Paul's words, the following query occurred to my mind. Is it not possible that I have been under a mistake in NOAH WORCESTER. •*" 63 supposing it to be necessary that the Messiah should have been originally a person of a nature and dignity superior to the greatest of men and of angels ? Is it not very possible that Jesus was selected for the Mes- siah on the same principle that he selected his apostles ? ' that the excellency of the power might be of God ? ' He assured his disciples that ' he could do nothing of himself;' that 'the Father in him did the works.' May it not then be, that the nature of the Messiah's dignity has been grossly misapprehended by Christians, and as really so as the nature of his kingdom was mis- apprehended by the Jews ? Perhaps I have been under a mistake by not clearly distinguishing between natural and spiritual dignity. " Thoughts and inquiries of this kind I then wrote down, in the hope that I might at some future day examine the subject more thoroughly. I deferred them to a future day, because I was then engaged in writing on another subject. On looking over some papers, in January 22, 1831, I found the notes that I previously wrote, and was much surprised to find that two years had elapsed since I wrote the minutes on this subject. But my mind had been occupied during that period with other subjects, which appeared to me important. However, should my life and health be spared for a few weeks, I think it will be my duty to pursue the inquiries in relation to the nature of the Messiah's dignity and kingdom. I am now at a loss how the inquiry will result in my own mind. The truth I wish to know ; and if on this point I have been ignorant, or have entertained incorrect views, I hope God will smile on my inquiries, and enable me to write something which will be to his glory, the good of my fellow Christians, and my own spiritual benefit. 64 * NOAH WORCESTER. " May 19, 1831. I have also made some progress in my inquiries relating to the Messiah's kingdom, and the nature of spiritual dignity. Should life and health be prolonged, I hope not only to improve my own mind, but to write something which may be useful to others. I have become convinced that great errors still prevail in regard to the Kingdom of Christ ; and I suspect that the nature of His dignity has been little understood by myself and by Christians in general. Perhaps a mistake on this point will account for the lamentable fact, that many who profess to be the dis- ciples of Christ, are led to imagine that they evince love to him, by bitter revilings against those who dis- sent from their views of his natural dignity. Whether I shall live to complete any thing in writing on this subject, which will be even satisfactory to myself, is very questionable. If not, I hope others will be led to pursue the subject till Christians shall be brought to feel that they can never obtain spiritual dignity by their contentions about the natural dignity of Christ, and that to be great in his kingdom they must be of the disposition of Him who ' made himself of no reputation,' ' came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.' The due preva- lence of such a temper would soon put an end to the present quarrels between different sects, and Christians would be known by their love one to another." In the course of his inquiries on this subject. Dr. Worcester wrote many chapters, and made some pro- gress toward the completion of a work of some mag- nitude. He did not finish it ; and does not appear to have arrived at views absolutely decisive to his own mind. NOAH WORCESTER. ' 65 It seems unnecessary, after the history contained in the preceding chapters, to attempt any formal state- ment or digest of Dr. Worcester's rehgious opinions. Enough has been stated for information, and nothing is wanted for authority. What deserves notice more perhaps than any thing else, is his great conscientious- ness in seeking the truth and declaring his convictions, his openness to further light on all subjects of inquiry, and the union of firmness and candor with which he held all truth. It is far more important that we mark and hold up to view these high traits of moral charac- ter, than that we seek to ascertain what were the intel- lectual views through which his mind passed and in which it rested. His conscientiousness and patience in the search of truth was a prominent trait. He deeply felt his respon- sibility, and acted on the conviction that he was bound to get as much light as possible and follow it without scruple wherever it should lead. In doing this he was eminently cautious to guard against self-deception and hasty conclusions. He used the greatest deliberation of patient inquiry, turning the subject over and over, that he might be sure no important view escaped him, and that through oversight or precipitancy he might not delude himself or mislead others. In this he was a model for the imitation of all inquirers. There are many whose rash and positive course is wholly the opposite of his. They adopt as most incontrovertible the view which for the present is satisfactory to their own minds ; they hold for absolute truth whatever now shows itself to them as truth ; and are impatient to publish it as such for the benefit of the world. They esteem it a duty to proclaim it without delay. 6* 66 NOAH WORCESTER. Some men of eager and restless minds make the pub- lic the confidant of all their processes of thought ; as they go on from one speculation to another, each seeming to them for the time the great truth, they utter it as such, however crude and undigested ; they thus keep all within their influence in that same state of unsettledness in which they are themselves living, and not a few they fix in some of the views which they themselves shortly reject as poisonous errors. Dr. Worcester had too much uprightness as well as modesty to venture on so mischievous a hazard. He felt the responsibility of religious speculation to be solemn ; he did not count himself to have the moral right to run the risk of misleading other minds by the publication of sentiments, however apparently true to his own mind, which had not been long diligently searched, and confirmed by the most deliberate and extensive inquiry. Thus, while his whole life was a course of study and progress, he was no weathercock or chameleon. He mastered his subject before he published. For more than twelve years did he pursue his investigations concerning the trinity. On so mo- mentous a subject he dared not assume that his new views were of course right, and rush out to lift up his voice in the highways proclaiming his great discovery."" He Avaited for confirmation. He continued to examine, think, talk, discuss ; and only after long contemplation of the subject on every side, so as to escape the possi- bility of having overlooked any important consideration, did he perform his great duty of publishing his mind. So in regard to other subjects. His views on the atonement and on human sinfulness were wrought out with the same deliberation and conscientious caution. NOAH WORCESTER. 67 They were published only after many years of calm, continued religious thought. It is admirable to observe how the patient and scrupulous old man goes over the ground again and again, tenderly watches against error, and waits year after year before he divulges views which fill his own heart with peace, lest by any self-delusion he should spread erroneous speculations adapted to mislead. His fairness in statement, and ingenuousness in dis- cussion, are equally to be observed. He entered on argument, not as an intellectual enterprise, or a trial of logical skill, but as a moral duty, in performing which he was subject to the laws of honesty and truth rather than of mere logic ; and he would have regarded the disingenuousness, and perversion of an opponent's language, and misstatement of his meaning, and false inferences, and other artifices of debate which often disgrace the annals of theological controversy, no less dishonorable, dishonest, and criminal, than the conceal- ments and unfair proceedings in commercial life, which are branded as fraud and punished by the universal re- probation of man. Perhaps in the history of religious discussions, there is no example of one who more uni- formly, conscientiously, determinately kept in view this great responsibility, and guarded the temper of debate with more scrupulous anxiety. It formed the expression and complexion, as it were, of his writings. To some it even seemed to be carried to an undue extreme. But all the world had been wilfully erring on this great point. It seemed to him a practical denial of the fundamental law of the Master ; and he felt himself called on to devote his life and powers to efforts to rescue it from its neglect, and restore it to the honor which is properly its due. 68 NOAH AVORCKSTER. In further illustration of the character of this excel- lent person there are here offered, collected from va- rious papers, some of the few expressions which Dr. Worcester from time to time recorded, of the state of his mind, and his religious experience. They are found written for the most part on loose pieces of paper, gen- erally brought out by the recurrence of some interest- ing event, or the arrival of some era. He kept no regular diary of his religious life, for reasons which he has stated in his autobiographical letters, and which it seems proper to insert in this place. " There was a portion of my life, after I entered on the ministry, in which I kept a journal of the exercises of my mind, and various occurrences of Providence. This I continued to do till I became impressed with the idea that the practice exposed to temptation. I then discontinued the practice and destroyed the jour- nals I had kept. I had read diaries which had been kept by others, some of which were very satisfactory and entertaining ; in others I thought I discovered in the writers too great a desire to exalt themselves. I could not but fear that I might be guilty of a similar fault." 1831. " The month of November has again ar- rived. It has been a remarkable month in the history of my life. It was the month of my birth, and that of two of my brothers and one of my sisters; the month of my first marriage, and of the death of my first wife ; of the death of my oldest daughter, and of the birth of my youngest." In this connection may properly be stated a few other facts, the precise date of which is uncertain, which help to show the estimation in Avhich he was NOAl^I WORCESTER. 69 held, and to mark the steps by which he came for- ward into hfe. One of these is, the effort that was made by a person of influence to secure for him the office of clerk of the court for the county. The fail- ure was a sad disappointment at the time, as it offered to him a safe living and honorable employment, at a time when his prospects were very limited and uncer- tain. He afterward saw reason to congratulate him- self on the disappointment. " Had I then obtained the office," he said, " I should probably have been fixed in a course of civil or political employments for life, exposed to numerous perils and snares, and denied the pleasures I have enjoyed as a student of divinity and a teacher of religion. It was surely well for me that God's thoughts were not as my thoughts." After this he was for several years sent as representative to the General Court, and was appointed a justice of the peace. A few years later, while settled in the minis- try, an endeavor was made to persuade him to stand as candidate for the House of Representatives in Con- gress ; but to this proposition he would not listen for a moment. He had then chosen his profession, and no other employment had any attractions for him. Brighton, May 16, 1814. " Of all I have published at any period of my life, I can say that what I wrote appeared to me to be true at the time of writing ; but I have always been liable to err ; nor have I been unwilling, as I have advanced in life, to relinquish former errors as fast as they were discovered. Some things, which once appeared to me correct, now appear incorrect ; other things which once appeared very important, appear now of less im- 70 NOAH WORCESTER. portance, whether correct or not. Some of my earlier writings I have not examined for many years, and they doubtless contain something which I should now view as incorrect, or unimportant. In many instances, I should now change the mode of representation, and some things I should suppress." March 26, 1815. " Since I have been in my present situation, I have enjoyed much comfort and I hope I have done some good. But why I was ever thought of as an Edi- tor for a periodical work, I cannot tell. God knows, and he had some good end in view. If I may have been the instrument of exciting attention to the spirit of the Christian religion, and of showing the evil and danger of those things which are inconsistent with the Christian temper, or injurious to the souls of men and the peace of the church, I shall have occasion to rejoice." Nov. 24, 1815. " If I am thankful for anything, I think I am thank- ful that I was not called out of the Avorld in darkness on the subject of war, and that my mind has been led to examine the subject Avith so much care. I have also reason to bless God that what I have published on this subject has been so well received by Christians of different sects ; and that there is so much reason to hope that the tracts will be extensively useful. Had as much clamor been raised against these writings, as some others that I have published, it would have been very trying to me, and perhaps I should not have borne the trial in a Christian manner. I think if I were now NOAH WORCESTER. . 71 on my death-bed, it would be to me a matter of great joy that T was not called prior to my writing on that subject, a subject so intimately connected with the na- ture, the success, and the glory of the gospel ; and one on which the lives and the salvation of so many of my fellow-men are depending. On no other account have I more desire to live another year, than that I may pursue my inquiries relating to the nature of Chris- tianity and its blessed tendency to reform as well as to save mankind. How great delusions I may yet be in, I know not ; but if my life shall be spared, I hope I shall be enabled so to pursue my inquiries, and to cor- rect what is still erroneous in my views of religion, as not to live in vain, in respect to myself or my fellow- men. But I feel a pleasure in the thought, that how- ever soon I may be called, what I have written in the course of the last year will not die with me. God I believe will raise up others to pursue, and to improve the subject till it shall produce a powerful effect on the Christian Avorld. My mistakes others will correct, and the hints which I have given others will improve, and the light will shine brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. Long after the name and die writings of Philo Pacificus shall have been forgotten, thousands of posterity may be enjoying j^mce, life, and happiness, in consequence of what he has written. Not only so, many souls may be saved from the bottomless pit, and become heirs of immortal bliss, by the blessing of God on his endeavors for the good of mankind. O Lord grant that it may be so." April 20, 1817. " It is now nearly four years since I came to this place, as editor of the Christian Disciple. In the 72 NOAH WORCESTER. course of these years I have experienced much of the mercy of the Lord, and have enjoyed much comfort in my attempts to correct what I have beheved to be erroneous in my own past opinions and in the opinions of others. It has been my aim to search out, and to pubhsh the truth. Still, it is probable that future inquiries will detect some errors in what I have hon- estly written. Perhaps also it will appear to impartial minds, that I have not been always prudent in my manner of exposing what I believed to be error. I claim no exemption from human infirmities, although my conscience bears me witness that it has been my aim to promote peace on earth and good will among men of all descriptions." Nov. 25, 1817. " No year of my life has been crowned with more mercies than the last ; none more satisfactorily spent in respect to myself; and I hope I have not lived in vain as to the good of others. By far the greater part of my waking hours have been employed on the sub- ject of war and peace ; and the more I reflect and examine, the more important the subject appears, the more I wonder at myself and others, that it was so long neglected. I can reflect on no part of my life or my labors with more pleasure than on what has been devoted to the cause of peace. For all I have been enabled to do in so good a cause, I am indebted to Him who has the residue of the spirit — to Him be all the praise. May his spirit still guide me, uphold me, and furnish me — save me from error, preserve me from sin, and make my heart and my life conformable to the principles of justice, love, and peace, which his Word inculcates, and which I have endeavored to dis- NOAH WORCESTER. 73 seminate and enforce. Knowing my sun is going down, that my time is short, may I be more and more active to have my work done, and well done, before the night shall come which will put an end to my labors on earth. May I daily imbibe more and more of the spirit of him who was meek and lowly of heart ; in this way may I seek and find rest to my soul. While I expose the wickedness of war, may I ever feel true compassion for those who are still bewildered by the custom. What scenes are before me, what trials await me, are known to him who cannot err. May his grace be sufficient for me, to preserve me from despondency and distrustfulness, and from the indulgence of any passion, or the adoption of any measure, by which his name would be dishonored, or the cause of truth and peace injured. While I live mindful that my great change is at hand, may I ever derive comfort from the thought that God will live when I shall be laid in the grave ; that he can lay aside one instrument, and employ another to carry on his work ; that he can enable those who shall succeed me to correct my involuntary errors, and supply my defects ; and that he can even promote the cause which lies nearest my heart, by removing me from the world. May I also so live as to maintain a Avell grounded hope, that after I have done all in my power to promote peace on earth, I shall go to a world of uninterrupted peace, where my cars will be no more assailed with the din of arms or the clamor of men who thirst for blood ; where Christ- ians of all denominations will cease to reproach each other, and be of one heart and one soul in abhorring all their past bickerings and strife, and cordially unite in giving praise to a sin-pardoning God, and to the 7 74 NOAII WORCESTER. Lamb who hath loved us and redeemed us unto God by his blood. " During the period of ten years' residence in Brighton, I have enjoyed a state of as much tranquillity as I could reasonably have anticipated in any part of the world, and have been treated with more attention and respect than I have deserved. Very seldom have I had a word of unpleasant altercation with any human being ; and I have not, that I recollect, received more than one letter from any one quarter, which I had reason to suppose was written with a design to wound my feelings. Nor have I been aware of any intended insult or disrespect from the clergy of any denomina- tion. Those who have dissented from my opinions have treated me with kindness, so far as I have had intercourse with them, or have been acquainted with their conduct towards me. As their opinions have been different from mine, their objecting to my views ought not to be regarded as unfriendly or disrespectful. I have also objected to theirs, without indulging to- wards them unkind or disrespectful feelings." August 26, 1S31. " I am now old, on the borders of the grave, and it is with me the day of adversity. My beloved wife is very sick, and will probably live but a few days. In this situation I set down to answer some questions which others may propose. As it is known to many that I have relinquished all hope of being saved on the ground of a vicarious punishment, endured for me by Him who ' loved us and gave himself for us,' some of my acquaintance may wish to know whether I have given up all hope of salvation. They may ask on what NOAH WORCESTER. 75 ground my hope rests, if I have a hope ? Whether I regard myself as so righteous or sinless as to have no need of pardoning mercy ? and if not, in what way I hope for the pardon of my sins ? " In reply to such inquiries I am permitted to say even in this hour of trial and in the prospect of death, that I have a consoling hope of pardon and salvation. It is not, however, as a sinless being that I hope to be saved. But to me it is a ' true saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners.' I believe that ' God so loved the Avorld that he sent his only begotten Son, that whoso- ever believeth in him should not perish but have ever- lasting life ; ' that ' the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world.' Such divine declarations I regard as ' good tidings,' for I feel that I have great need of pardon for my numerous offences. My hope of salvation is based on that ocean of the Father's love which ' spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all,' that he might reveal to us the way of life, be the Mediator between God and our guilty race, the light of the world, the way, the truth, and the life. Believing in the record which God gave of the Son, and which the Son gave of the Father, as disposed to pardon all who repent and obey the gos- pel, I hope in divine mercy." Nov. 5, 1831. " Some persons will doubtless deem it an objection to my character, that so many of my writings have been on controversial subjects, and I am aware that controversy is too often conducted in a manner which tends to sour the mind, and to alienate the affections 76 NOAH AVORCESTER. of a writer from those who dissent from his opinions. Indeed, I have little doubt, that some controversial writers have indulged towards each other as bitter and unchristian feelings, as are indulged by the soldiers of different countries in their sanguinary strife. How far I have been guilty of indulging such feelings, God perhaps only knows ; others must judge for themselves in view of what I have written. Were I to review all I have written, I should doubtless find a number of things which I should regret, and wish they had been differently expressed. But I have no recollection of having written any thing with a desire to injure the character of any brother whose opinions were difl'erent from mine. It is now some consolation to me, so near the close of life, and in the prospect of so soon finish- ing my course, that I have ever written on controver- sial subjects with a deep conviction of my OAvn liability to err — even on those points on which I have most strongly expressed my dissent from others ; and that it has been my aim to express this dissent with friendly feelings, and without calling in question their Christian character, on account of their opinions. If in any instance I have failed of so doing, it has wholly escaped my recollection. Indeed, if such a violation of the laws of love should now be pointed out to me, I should feel bound to retract it as unchristian and indefensible. " What am I, that I should assume the prerogative of God, in judging the hearts of my fellow-men, my Christian brethren ! What am I that I should dare to censure thousands of fellow Christians as the ene- mies of God, because they happen to differ from me in their interpretations of some ambiguous words or NOAH WORCESTER. 77 phrases, which are used in the Bible ! Most of these dissenting brethren are wholly unknown to me ; many of them have probably better talents than I have, and on many accounts have had greater advantages than myself, and surely I do not know that they have been less careful or less humble in their inquiries than I have been in mine. What then is this self-sufficient and censorious spirit, which so often appears in sermons and in controversial writings, but the spirit of those Pharisees who ' trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others.' If at this late period of my life, I should find evidence that such is the spirit with which my controversial writings are imbued, I should shudder at the prospect of my final reck- oning." Jan. 26, 1832. " Being now in my seventy-fourth year, I must ex- pect soon to follow my wife to the house appointed for all the living. But am I prepared for the event ? What are the best evidences of preparation for death ? These are important questions, worthy of daily atten- tion. I hope they will not be forgotten by me, or any more treated with neglect. How long God may see fit to prolong my life is to me unknown ; nor should this be my greatest concern. I should indeed be wil- ling to live as long as it shall be God's pleasure to pre- serve me ; but in itself considered, I do not think it is desirable that old people should survive their useful- ness. I cannot pray that it may be so with myself." We have thus followed the life of this good man from its beginning, through its long course of pro- 7* 78 NOAH WORCESTER. gress and change, to its closing days of tranquil and holy rest. The picture which it leaves on our hearts, is one of eminent beauty. Consistent, upright, con- scientious, and beneficent, it displays distinctly the traits of the faithful Christian ; and its example is one of adherence to duty, and devotion to truth. Rarely do we find a truer instance of fidelity to one's sense of right, independent and unawed, with a meeker regard for the liberty and independence of others, and a more absolute submission to the authority of the Divine Word. It was the union of these which made his Christian life ; and as character is always constituted in part of its native endowments, and original temperament, so here also his original tem- perament formed a groundwork never obliterated, upon which the superstructure of his ultimate charac- ter rested. In such occupations the few remaining years of his life wore tranquilly away. He went less and less abroad. He retreated more and more to the contem- plative solitude of his study. His infirmities sensibly increased upon him. But he struggled on ; and it was beautiful to witness the consistency with which he patiently waited, serene, tranquil, humble, and grate- ful, the arrival of his summons to depart. See him, then, during these last years of debility and retirement. He lives humbly and almost alone ; his daughter is Avith him to attend and cheer him ; infirmity confines him much to the house, but he goes abroad for the little exercise of body Avhich he can bear, — chiefly walking in the neighboring grounds of Mr. Parsons. His mode of life in the highest degree patriarchal, frugal, simple ; his habits moderate, his NOAH WORCESTER. 79 wants few ; and for the Providence which grants a supply to them, and the generous friends who contri- buted to his Hving, he never wants the luxury of a heart full of the most affecting gratitude. Subject to severe ill turns, liable at any hour to be cut off ; bur- dened with the weariness of perpetual languor ; living on sufferance from day to day ; he sits serene, gentle, cheerful, more than resigned, thankful, occupied as ever with thoughts of others, with solicitude for the welfare of man, and cares for the kingdom of God. Nothing escapes his attention that concerns the honor of Divine truth, and the advancement of righteousness and charity. Shut out from the world, his spirit is in the midst of it ; and his little study witnesses his labors still in its behalf. War, oppression, error, intempe- rance, slavery, occupy his mind and his pen ; and sheet after sheet, testifies to the lively sensibility and deep concern with which he still pursues the great and favorite interests of humanity. The papers consisting of remarks on the several important questions per- taining to these topics as they came up in the events of the day, and the discussions of the journals, would make volumes. The last subject on which he was writing, was slavery. He wrote and re-wrote with care a considerable treatise for the press, not many months before his death ; and the various articles which lie among his papers show that he had looked into all the questions which pertain to that vexed sub- ject, with the perseverance and earnestness which belonged to his younger days. Here, as always, he was found steadfast on the side of right and human- He had a great fondness for metrical composition. 80 NOAH WORCESTER. When he sat musing by himself, and his feehngs glowed with devotional or philanthropic sentiment, they spontaneously found vent in verse ; and very numerous are the hymns of praise and personal grati- tude, humanity and faith, which remain among his papers, the memorials of his passing frames of thought, and records of interesting occurrences. From the readiness Avith which he assumed this mode of ex- pression, the enjoyment which it evidently afforded him, and the care with Avhich many of these produc- tions have been copied and preserved, it is plain that he not a little valued them. But the love and taste for poetry do not always imply the power to excel in it. Nature had endowed him with the poetical tem- perament, and he had a large aptitude for poetical forms of thought. This is seen everywhere through- out his writings in his tendency to figurative illustra- tion, especially in his love of the parable and allegory ; of which his works furnish many beautiful examples, and his verses abound in them. But his education had unhappily denied him that culture of the taste and that power over language, which are essential to success- ful poetical expression ; and his essays are valuable only as evidences of the perpetual greenness of his soul, and of his ever ready sensibility to religious truth, and all the goodness there is in life and the uni- verse. It is truly affecting to observe the records of daily gratitude and faith, morning and evening and mid-day noted down in impromptu verse, as if they would not be denied their song ; and how passing events and memorable occasions, — a birth day, a new-year's day, and other anniversaries, — called out the ready music of his religious lyre. It is remarka- NOAH WORCESTER. 81 ble, however, that, of formal hymns, suited to be sung to our common tunes, he wrote almost none ; for he was fond of music, and was a good singer. In early and middle life he paid no little attention to that science. He was a teacher of music. His voice was particularly melodious, and he entered into the act of singing with a heartiness of evident devotion, that was truly impressive to behold. His appearance in his pew at Brighton, " with his silver locks flowing to his shoulders, his countenance a little elevated, and full of the seriousness, earnestness, and delight which belong to this act of Avorship, while his voice was readily dis- tinguished through the whole house," is described as having been eminently striking and beautiful. In politics he always took a strong interest, like the other prominent men of his time. With his father and brothers he belonged to the Federal party, and retained his attachment to it, but without violence of party spirit, and with good feelings towards oppo- nents. He was familiar with the history of the gov- ernment, and formed very definite opinions concern- ing all its leading measures. His reverence for Washington was unlimited. His personal appearance was striking. He possess- ed a large frame, and at some periods of his life weigh- ed two hundred and thirty pounds. His bodily pres- ence was portly and dignified ; his manners had an unusual suavity, and he wore an habitual air of bland deference toward others Avhich amounted to an almost feminine gentleness. The expression of benignity and meekness in his countenance was very striking to stran- gers. He wrote with uncommon rapidity and accuracy, 82 NOAH WORCESTER. but did not read so fast as many others. After his limbs became feeble in 1806, his habits Avere seden- tary ; and 'very few men are able to study so much as he did. Twenty years of his life may be selected, during which probably his average daily time of study was not less than fourteen hours. But he was very regular in taking exercise, as much as he felt able to bear, and of such kinds as best suited the state of his health. All his habits were marked by promptness, energy, and punctuality. He rose very early during his whole life, and wanted his simple breakfast as soon as it could be prepared. He was then ready for the labors of the day ; worked with all his might at whatever seemed his duty ; desired and endeavored to have all labors go on very quietly, but with energy ; and, at an early hour in the evening, he was thankful that the time of rest had arrived. The peculiar sweetness of his manners was in part a family trait. The same was conspicuous in some of his brothers. It probably was increased in him by the perpetual discipline he exercised himself to maintain over a temperament naturally hasty and irri- table, and which he thus kept in such a subjection, that few who knew him in his riper days ever suspect- ed that his beautiful meekness was the attainment of a sharp struggle and laborious self-control, " There was a sort of majesty in his meekness," says one ; " for it was a laborious acquisition, and sat upon him like a crown. How many conflicts did it not indicate, and how many victories too ! With this impression I never could look upon him but with wonder, nor think of him without deriving encouragement and strength for the ordeal of man's spiritual progress." NOAH WORCESTER. 83 The portrait by Alexander, painted for Dr. Tucker- man, and now in possession of one of his sons, repre- sents him with great truth. The best likeness, in the judgment of some of his family, " as showing his pro- file, his whole personal outline, and most frequent at- titude," is found in the sketch of an old clergyman reading to a convict, engraved for the Religious Offer- ing, 1840. The portrait of Hobbes in Knights' Por- trait Gallery is remarkably like him. Soon after Dr. Worcester had commenced preach- ing, and had as a preacher and writer become exten- sively knoAvn, he received honorary degrees both from Dartmouth and the University at Cambridge. After he came to Brighton he preached many times in Boston and the neighboring towns ; but, for about twenty years before his death, his liability to spasmodic affections rendered it unsafe for him to attempt to preach. The ill turns which depended on a disease of the heart, rendered it necessary that he should avoid all occasions of excitement, and hence that he should keep at home. He was well aware that his body could not bear much excitement of the mind ; and he therefore gen- erally avoided discussions with those who differed from him. This gave to the last years of his life a more placid character, than properly belonged to him. He was constitutionally excitable ; and when his health was feeble, it took but little to discompose him. Those who visited him at Brighton were generally his warm friends, who came to approve and encourage his Avorks. In their presence he could be calm and happy ; and those who had known him more, and had constant 84 NOAH WORCESTER. intercourse Avith him, knew how to avoid what Avould trouble him. There Avas nothing harsh and vindictive in his char- acter. When irritated he was severe ; but his deep and ever-active sense of justice and mercy, and his abhorrence of strife, always overcame his excitement soon, that none were Avilling to remember it. It has been mentioned that Dr. Worcester was sub- ject to paralytic affections, and also to turns of entire prostration of strength, arising probably from some degree of ossification of the heart or arteries. The first case of paralysis, and one of the severest which he ever suffered was, in the summer of 1815. He had less of these paralytic affections, and more of the other kind, in his later years. We doubted not that he would die in one of these spasms from disease of the heart ; but the violence of these attacks rather diminished after he was seventy years of age ; and, at last, his lungs which had seemed to be very good, be- came much diseased ; and he died of pulmonary con- sumption, Oct. 31, 1837. For about five weeks before his death his health had rapidly declined. He was quite conscious that he was faihng, and said, — "I think I may not be here long, and I know not why I should desire to be." He took his last meal with the family one month before his death, but continued able to sit up a part of each day till the last five days. He bore his severe pains with admirable fortitude. Near the last hour he was in much distress from pain in the left side. A part of the last day he seemed bewildered, but most of the time he was conscious of his condition, and was willing to die. We close Our memoir with a notice of the subject of it by Dr. Channing. NOAH WORCESTER. 85 Within a few days, a great and good man, a sin- gular example of the philanthropy which Jesus Christ came to breathe into the world, has been taken away ; and as it was my happiness to know him more inti- mately than most among us, I feel as if I were called to bear a testimony to his rare goodness, and to hold up his example as a manifestation of what Christianity can accomplish in the human mind. I refer to the Rev. Noah Worcester, who has been justly called the Apostle of Peace, who finished his course at Brighton during the last week. His great age, for he was al- most eighty, and the long, and entire seclusion to which debility had compelled him, have probably made his name a strange one to some who hear me. In truth, it is common in the present age, for eminent men to be forgotten during their lives, if their lives are much prolonged. Society is now a quick-shifting pa- geant. New actors hurry the old ones from the stage. The former stability of things is strikingly impaired. The authority which gathered round the aged, has de- clined. The young-seize impatiently the prizes of life. The hurried, bustling, tumultuous, feverish Present, swallows up men's thoughts, so that he who retires from active pursuits, is as little known to the rising generation as if he were dead. It is not wonderful, then, that Dr. Worcester was so far forgotten by his contemporaries. But the future will redress the wrongs of the present ; and in the progress of civilization, his- tory will guard more and more sacredly the memories of men, who have advanced before their age and de- voted themselves to great, but neglected interests of humanity. Dr. Worcester's efforts in relation to war, or in the 86 NOAH WORCESTER. cause of peace, made him eminently a public man, and constitute his chief claim to public consideration ; and these were not founded on accidental circum- stances or foreign influences, but wholly on the strong and peculiar tendencies of his mind. He was distin- guished above all whom I have known by his com- prehension and deep feeling of the spirit of Christian- ity, by the sympathy with which he seized on the character of Jesus Christ as a manifestation of Perfect Love, by the honor in which he held the mild, humble, forgiving, disinterested virtues of our religion. This distinguishing trait of his mind was embodied and brought out in his whole life and conduct. He espe- cially expressed it in his labors for the promotion of Universal Peace on the earth. He was struck, as no other man within my acquaintance has been, with the monstrous incongruity between the spirit of Christian- ity and the spirit of Christian communities, between Christ's teaching of peace, mercy, forgiveness, and the wars which divide and desolate the church and the world. Every man has particular impressions which rule over and give a hue to his mind. Every man is struck by some evils rather than others. The excel- lent individual of whom I speak was shocked, heart- smitten, by nothing so much, as by seeing, that man hates man, that man destroys his brother, that man has drenched the earth with his brother's blood, that man in his insanity has crowned the murderer of his race with the highest honors ; and, still worse, that Christian hates Christian, that church wars against church, that differences of forms and opinions array against each other those whom Christ died to join to- gether in closest brotherhood, and that Christian zeal NOAH WORCESTER. 87 is spent in building up sects, rather than in spreading the spirit of Christ and enlarging and binding together the universal church. The great evil on which his mind and heart fixed was War, Discord, Intolerance, the substitution of force for Reason and Love. To spread peace on earth became the object of his life. .Under this impulse he gave birth and impulse to Peace Societies. This new movement is to be traced to him above all other men, and his name, I doubt not, will be handed down to future time with increas- ing veneration as the ' Friend of peace,' as having given new force to the principles which are gradually to abate the horrors, and ultimately extinguish the spirit of war. The history of the good man, as far as I have learned it, is singularly instructive and encouraging. He was self-taught, self-formed. He was born in narrow circumstances, and to the age of twenty-one was a laborious farmer, not only deprived of a colle- giate education, but of the advantages which may be enjoyed in a more prosperous family. An early mar- riage brought on him the cares of a growing family. Still he found or rather made time for sufficient im- provements to introduce him into the ministry before his thirtieth year. He was first settled in a parish too poor to give him even a scanty support : and he was compelled to take a farm on which he toiled by day, Avhilst in the evening he was often obliged to use a mechanical art for the benefit of his family. He made their shoes, an occupation of which Coleridge has somewhere remarked, that it has been followed by a greater number of eminent men than any other trade. By the side of his work-bench he kept ink 88 NOAH WORCESTER. and paper, that he might write down the interesting thoughts, which he traced out or which rushed on him amidst his humble labors. I take pleasure in stating this part of his history. The prejudice against manual labor as inconsistent with personal dignity is one of the most irrational and pernicious, especially in a free country. It shows how little we comprehend the spirit of our institutions, and how deeply we are tainted with the narrow maxims of the old aristoc- racies of Europe. Here was a man, uniting great intellectual improvement with refinement of man- ners, who had been trained under unusual severity of toil. This country has lost much physical and moral strength, and its prosperity is at this moment depressed, by the common propensity to forsake the plough for less manly pursuits, which are thought, however, to promise greater dignity as well as ease. His first book was a series of letters to a Baptist minister, and in this he gave promise of the direction which the efforts of his life were to assume. The great object of these letters, was not to settle the con- troversies about baptism, about the mode of adminis- tering it, whether by immersion or sprinkling, or about the proper subjects of it, whether children or adults alone. His aim was, to show that these were inferior questions, that differences about these ought not to divide Christians, that the * close communion ' as it is called, of the Baptists, was inconsistent with the liberal spirit of Christianity, and that this obstruction to Christian unity ought to be removed. His next publication was what brought him into no- lice, and gave him an important place in our theologi- cal history. It was a publication on the Trinity, and NOAH WORCESTER. 89 what is worthy of remark, it preceded the animated controversy on that point which a few years after agi- tated this city and common weaUh. The mind of Dr. Worcester was turned to this topic not by foreign im- pulses but by its own workings. He had been brought up in the strictest sect, that is, as a Calvinist. His first doubts as to the Trinity arose from the confusion, the perplexity, into which his mind was thrown by this doctrine in his acts of devotion. To worship three persons as one and the same God, as one and the same being, seemed to him difficult if not impos- sible. He accordingly resolved to read and examine the Scriptures from beginning to end, for the purpose of ascertaining the true doctrine respecting God and the true rank of Jesus Christ. The views at which he arrived were so different from what prevailed around him, and some of them so peculiar, that he communi- cated them to the public under the rather quaint title of ' Bible News relating to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.' His great aim was to prove, that the Su- preme God was one person, even the Father, and that Jesus Christ was not the Supreme God, but his Son in a strict and peculiar sense. This idea of ' the pe- culiar and natural sonship ' of Christ, by which he meant that Jesus was derived from the very substance of the Father, had taken a strong hold on his mind, and he insisted on it with as much confidence as was consistent with his deep sense of fallibility. But, as might be expected in so wise and spiritual a man, it faded more and more from his mind, in proportion as he became acquainted with and assimilated to the true glory of his Master. In one of his unpublished man- uscripts, he gives an account of his change of view in 90 NOAH WORCESTER. this particular, and, without disclaiming expressly the doctrine which had formerly seemed so precious, he informs us that it had lost its importance in his sight. The Moral, Spiritual dignity of Christ, had risen on his mind in such splendor as to dim his old idea of ' natural sonship.' In one place he affirms, ' I do not recollect an instance [in the scriptures] in which Christ is spoken of as loved, honored, or praised on any other ground than his Moral dignity.' This moral greatness he declares to be the highest with which Jesus was clothed, and expresses his conviction, ' that the controversies of Christians about his natural dig- nity, had tended very little to the honor of their Master, or to their own advantage.' The manuscript to which I refer was written after his seventieth year, and is very illustrative of his character. It shows, that his love of truth was stronger than the tenacity with which age commonly clings to old ideas. It shows him superior to the theory, which more- than any other he had considered his own, and which had been the fruit of very laborious study. It shows how strongly he felt, that Progress was the law and end of his being, and how he continued to make progress to the last hour. The work called ' Bible News ' drew much attention, and converted not a few to the doctrine of the proper unity of God. Its calm, benignant spirit had no small influence in disarming prejudice and un- kindness. He found, however, that his defection from his original faith had exposed him to much suspicion and reproach ; and he became at length so painfully impressed with the intolerance which his work had excited, that he published another shorter work called ' Letters to Trinitarians,' a work breathing the very NOAH WORCESTER. 91 spirit of JesuSj and intended to teach, that diversities of opinion, on subjects the most mysterious and per- plexing, ought not to sever friends, to dissolve the Christian tie, to divide the church, to fasten on the dis- senter from the common faith the charge of heresy, to array the disciples of the Prince of Peace in hostile bands. These works obtained such favor, that he was solicited to leave the obscure town in which he ministered, and to take charge, in this place, of a peri- odical called at first the Christian Disciple, and now better known as the Christian Examiner. At that time, (about twenty-five years ago,) I first saw him. Long and severe toil, and a most painful disease, had left their traces on his once athletic frame ; but his countenance beamed with a benignity which at once attracted confidence and affection. For several years he consulted me habitually in the conduct of the work which he edited. I recollect with admiration the gen- tleness, humihty, and sweetness of temper, with which he endured freedoms, corrections, retrenchments, some of which I feel now to have been unwarranted, and which no other man would so kindly have borne. This work was commenced very much for doctrinal discussions ; but his spirit could not brook such limi- tations, and he used its pages Aiore and more for the dissemination of his principles of philanthropy and peace. At length he gave these principles to the world, in a form which did much to decide his future career. He published a pamphlet called ' A Solemn Review of the Custom of War.' It bore no name, and appeared without recommendation, but it imme- diately seized on attention. It was read by multitudes in this country, then published in England, and trans- 92 NOAH WORCESTER. lated, as I have heard, into several languages of Europe. Such vv^as the impression made by this work, that a new association, called the Peace Society of Massa- chusetts, was instituted in this place. I well recollect the day of its formation in yonder house, then the par- sonage of this parish, and if there was a happy man that day on earth, it was the founder of this institution. This society gave birth to all the kindred ones in this country, and its influence was felt abroad. Dr. Wor- cester assumed the charge of its periodical, and devoted himself for years to this cause, with unabating faith and zeal; and it may be doubted, whether any man, who ever lived, contributed more than he, to spread just sentiments on the subject of War, and to hasten the era of universal peace. He began his efforts in the darkest day, when the whole civilized world was shaken by conflict, and threatened with military des- potism. He lived to see more than twenty years of general peace, and to see through these years, a mul- tiplication of national ties, an extension of commercial communications, an establishment of new connections between Christians and learned men through the world, and a growing reciprocity of friendly and bene- ficent influence among different states, all giving aid to the principles of peate, and encouraging hopes which a century ago would have been deemed insane. The abolition of war, to which this good man de- voted himself, is no longer to be set down as a cre- ation of fancy, a dream of enthusiastic philanthropy. War rests on opinion, and opinion is more and more withdrawing its support. War rests on contempt of human nature, on the long, mournful habit of regard- ing the mass of human beings as machines, or as ani- NOAH WORCESTER. 93 mals having no higher use than to be shot at and murdered, for the glory of a chief, for the seating of this or that family on a throne, for the petty interests or selfish rivalries which have inflamed states to con- flict. Let the worth of a human being be felt; let the mass of a people be elevated ; let it be understood that a man was made to enjoy unahenable right, to improve lofty powers, to secure vast happiness ; and a main pillar of war will fall. And is it not plain that these views are taking place of the contempt in which man has so long been held ? War finds another sup- port in the prejudices and partialities of a narrow patri- otism. Let the great Christian principle of human brotherhood be comprehended, let the Christian spirit of universal love gain ground, and just so fast the cus- tom of war, so long the pride of men, will become their abhorrence and execration. It is encoiu'aging to see how outward events are concurring with the influences of Christianity in promoting peace, how an exclusive nationality is yielding to growing intercourse, how dif- ferent nations by mutual visits, by the interchange of thoughts and products, by studying one another's lan- guage and literature, by union of efforts in the cause of religion and humanity, are growing up to the conscious- ness of belonging to one great family. Every railroad connecting distant regions, may be regarded as accom- plishing a ministry of peace. Every year which passes without war, by interweaving more various ties of in- terest and friendship, is a pledge of coming years of peace. The prophetic faith, with which Dr. Worces- ter, in the midst of universal war, looked forward to a happier era, and which was smiled at as enthusiasm or credulity, has already received a sanction beyond 94 NOAH WORCESTER. his fondest hopes by the wonderful progress of human affairs. On the subject of War, Dr. Worcester adopted opinions which are thought by some to be extreme. He interpreted literally the precept, Resist not evil ; and he believed that nations as well as individuals would find safety as well as ' fulfil righteousness ' in yielding it literal obedience. One of the most striking traits of his character, was his confidence in the power of love, I might say in its omnipotence. He believed, the surest way to subdue a foe, was to become his friend ; that a true benevolence was a surer defence than swords, or artillery, or walls of adamant. He believed, that no mightier man ever trod the soil of America than William Penn, when entering the wil- derness unarmed, and stretching out to the savage a hand which refused all earthly weapons, in token of brotherhood and peace. There was something grand in the calm confidence, with which he expressed his conviction of the superiority of moral to physical force. Armies, fiery passions, quick resentments, and the spirit of vengeance miscalled honor, seemed to him weak, low instruments, inviting, and often hastening the ruin which they are used to avert. Many will think him in error ; but if so, it was a grand thought which led him astray. At the age of seventy, he felt as if he had discharged his mission as a preacher of peace, and resigned his office as Secretary to the Society, to which he had given the strength of many years. He did not, hoAv- ever, retire to unfruitful repose. Bodily infirmity had increased, so that he was very much confined to his house ; but he returned with zeal to the studies of his NOAH WORCESTER. 95 early life, and produced two theological works, one on the atonement, the other on human depravity or the moral state of man by nature, which I regard as among the most useful books on these long agitated subjects. These writings, particularly the last, have failed of the popularity which they merit, in consequence of a de- fect of style, which may be traced to his defective education, and which naturally increased with years. I refer to his diffuseness, to his inability to condense his thoughts. His writings, however, are not wanting in merits of style. They are simple and clear. They abound to a remarkable degree in ingenious illustration, and they have often the charm which original thinking always gives to composition. He was truly an origi- nal writer, not in the sense of making great discoveries, but in the sense of writing from his own mind, and not from books, or tradition. What he wrote, had per- haps been written before ; but in consequence of his limited reading, it was new to himself, and came to him with the freshness of discovery. Sometimes great thoughts flashed on his mind, as if they had been in- spirations ; and in writing his last book, he seems to have felt as if some extraordinary light had been im- parted from above. After his seventy-fifth year he ceased to write books, but his mind lost nothing of its activity. He was so enfeebled by a distressing disease, that he could converse but a few moments at a time ; yet he entered into all the great movements of the age, with an interest distinguished from the fervor of youth, only by its mildness and its serene trust. The attempts made, in some of our cities, to propagate atheistical principles, gave him much concern, and he applied himself to fresh inquiries into the proofs of the exist- 96 NOAH WORCESTER. ence and perfections of God, hoping to turn his labors to the account of his erring fellow-creatures. With this view, he entered on the study of nature as a glo- rious testimony to its almighty author. I shall never forget the delight which illumined his countenance a short time ago, as he told me, that he had just been reading the history of the coral, the insect which raises islands in the sea. ' How wonderfully,' he exclaimed, ' is God's providence revealed in these little creatures.' The last subject to which he devoted his thoughts, was slavery. His mild spirit could never reconcile itself to the methods in which this evil is often assailed ; but the greatness of the evil he deeply felt, and he left several essays on this as on the preceding subject, which, if they shall be found unfit for publication, will still bear witness to the intense, unfaltering interest with which he bound himself to the cause of mankind. I have thus given a sketch of the history of a good man who lived and died the lover of his kind and the admiration of liis friends. Two views of him particu- larly impressed me. The first was the unity, the har- mony of his character. He had no jarring elements. His whole nature had been blended and melted into one strong, serene love. His mission was to preach peace, and- he preached it not on set occasions, or by separate efforts, but in his whole life. It breathed in his tones. It beamed from his venerable countenance. He carried it, where it is least apt to be found, into - the religious controversies, which raged around him with great vehemence, but which never excited him to a word of anger or intolerance. All my impressions of him are harmonious. I recollect no discord in his 'beautiful life ; and this serenity was not the result of NOAH WORCESTER. 97 torpidness or lameness ; for his whole hfe was a con- flict with what he thought error. He made no com- promise with the world, and yet he loved it as deeply and constantly as if it had responded in shouts to all his views and feelings. The next great impression which I received from him was that of the sufficiency of the mind to its own happiness, or of its independence on outward things. He was for years debilitated and often a great sufferer ; and his circumstances were very narrow, compelling him to so strict an economy, that was sometimes rep- resented, though falsely, as wanting the common com- forts of life. In this tried and narrow condition, he was among the most contented of men. He spoke of his old age as among the happiest portions if not the very happiest in his life. In conversation his religion manifested itself in gratitude more frequently than in any other form. When I have visited him in his last years, and looked on his serene countenance, and heard his cheerful voice, and seen the youthful earnestness with which he was reading a variety of books, and studying the great interests of humanity, I have felt how little of this outward world is needed to our happiness. I have felt the greatness of the human spirit, which could create to itself such joy from its o\Vn resources. I have felt the folly, the insanity of that prevailing worldliness, which in accumulating outward good, neglects the imperishable soul. On leaving his house and turning my face toward the city, I have said to myself, how much richer is this poor man than the richest who dwell yonder. I have been ashamed of my own dependence on outward good. I am always happy to express my obligations to the benefactors of 9 98 NOAH WORCESTER. my mind ; and I owe it to Dr. Worcester to say, that my acquaintance with him gave me clearer compre- hension of the spirit of Christ, and of the dignity of a man. And he has gone to his reward. He has gone to that world of which he carried in his own breast so rich an earnest and pledge, to a world of Peace. He has gone to Jesus Christ, whose spirit he so deeply comprehended and so freely imbibed, and to God whose universal, all-suffering, all-embracing love he adored, and in a humble measure made manifest in his own life. But he is not wholly gone ; not gone in heart, for I am sure that a better world has heightened, not extinguished, his affection for his race ; and not gone in influence, for his thoughts remain in his works, and his memory is laid up as a sacred treasure in many minds. A spirit so beautiful ought to multiply itself in those to whom it is made known. May we all be incited by it to a more grateful, cheerful love to God, and serener, gentler, nobler love of our fellow-crea- tures. MEMOIR JOHN PRINCE JOHN PRINCE John Prince was born in Boston on the 22d of July, 1751. His parents resided in the north part of the city, and were worthy and excellent members of the religious society now under the pastoral care of' Dr. Parkman. They were of Puritan descent, and, as was the case with all who worthily claimed that name, were careful to give their son a good educa- tion, and to impress upon his mind a reverent sense of religious truth and duty. His father being a me- chanic the son naturally was intended and directed by him to similar pursuits. He was early bound out as an apprentice to a pewferer and tinman, and contin- ued industriously and faithfully to labor in his calling until his indentures had expired. But his genius, from the beginning, had indicated a propensity to a different mode of life. From a child his chief enjoyments were found in books. He was wont to retire from the sports of boyhood. There Avas no play for him to be compared with the delight of reading. During the hours of leisure in the period of his apprenticeship, he sought no other recreation than in the acquisition of knowledge. It followed of course that, upon becoming free, he • 9* 102 JOHN PRINCE. abandoned his trade and devoted himself to study. In a very short time he was prepared to enter college) and received his bachelor's degree at Cambridge in 1776, at the age of tw^enty-five. After leaving col- lege he was engaged for some time in the instruction of a school. He pursued the study of divinity under the direction of the Rev. Samuel Williams, of Brad- ford in this county, a clergyman highly distinguished for talents and attainments, afterwards Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy in Harvard Uni- versity. He was ordained pastor over the 1st Church in Salem on the 10th of November, 1779. On the 8th of December, 1824, a colleague was settled with his concurrence. He died on the 7th of June, 1836, hav- ing nearly completed his 85th year. His ministry lasted fifty-seven years and seven months. In sketching the character of Dr. Prince he must be considered as a Philosopher, a Divine, and a Christ- ian. The basis of his philosophical attainments was laid in the thirst for knowledge already alluded to. This trait was early developed, and continued to be his most marked characteristic until the very hand of death was upon him. It was exercised in almost every possible direction, and as his memory was wonderfully capacious and retentive, the result was that he accumulated and had at command as large an amount of knowledge, as can easily be found in the possession of any one mind. Without taking into the account what he derived from books, and few men have ever read more, his eyes and his ears were always open and his hands were always busy. No idle moment ever passed over him. He noticed every JOHN PRINCE. 103 occurrence, and explored every object within the reach of his curious observation. When a mere boy he was intent to learn all that was going on in the great world around him ; and this appetite for knowl- edge enabled him to lay up a body of reminiscences, draAvn from his early youth and from every period of his life, which made him, in his old age, a truly instructive companion. He was an attentive and in- quisitive spectator of the opening scenes of the revo- lutionary drama in Boston, from the massacre through all the intermediate events, including the destruction of the tea, to the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill. He v/as equally well stored with facts in refer- ence to men and things during all the subsequent pe- riod of his life ; and what he knew he related, in a style of narrative, such as those who enjoyed his ac- quaintance, can scarcely expect ever to find equalled. In this connection it is necessary to remark, as it was indeed a most distinguishing trait in the character of Dr. Prince, and one worthy of imitation by all men, and especially by clergymen, that vigorous, un- remitted, and universal as was his thirst for knowl- edge, it was invariably kept within the bounds of pru- dence, propriety, and good feeling. Probably no man ever lived more free from the charge of being a prier into other persons' affairs, or a tattler of their failings. He did not appear to have a sense to dis- cern the private frailties or follies of men. His lips were never known to circulate scandal or gossip. During his long ministry he was never even suspected of widening a breach by tale-bearing, of raising a laugh at another's expense, or of uttering a syllable to the disparagement of a single member of the com- 104 JOHN PRINCE. munity. All the notices he took, and all the circum- stances he related in which other men were concerned, were only such as could be made to point a general moral, and illustrate a principle of human nature without affecting any individual injuriously. What has now been said will commend itself to his friends as a true and accurate feature of his character, and it strildngly illustrates his judgment and prudence, the integrity of his mind, the tenderness of his feelings, and his strong sense of justice towards all men. His passion for knowledge, receiving a particularly strong bias from the manual occupation to which he served an apprenticeship, inclined him, with peculiar interest, to the pursuit, and cultivation of the several branches of experimental natural philosophy. On the 10th of November, 1783, just four years from the day of his ordination, Avhen thirty-two years of age, he communicated to the scientific Avorld, his improved construction of the Air Pump. His letter, giving the first account of it, addressed to President WilJard, of Harvard College, may be seen in the first volume of the Memoirs of the American Academy. The present generation can form no conception of the interest awakened by this admirable invention, not only in this country, but throughout Europe. His name was at once enrolled among the benefactors and ornaments of modern science, and on that roll it will remain inscribed until science itself shall be no more. The philosophical journals of the day emulated each other in praising the scientific research and the profoundness of reasoning displayed in the construc- tion. The American philosopher was allowed to have surpassed all former attempto in the same de- JOHN PRINCE. 105 partment. His name is recorded, by an eminent writer, in connection with that of the famous Boyle, among " those who have improved the instruments of science and of whose labors we are now reaping the benefit,"* The machine is still called, by way of distinction, " the American Air Pump," and its figure was selected to represent a constellation in the heav- ens, and imprinted upon celestial globes. His reputation was thus established among the first philosophers and mechanicians of his age. He re- ceived the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws from the very respectable College at Providence, and was admitted to the several learned and philosophical societies of the country. It would not be expected here to enumerate in detail the various improvements made by Dr. Prince in philosophical instruments. He introduced some of great importance into the microscope, and contrived an alteration in the kaleidoscope, by which a world of wonders, the brilliancy and glory of which tran- scends all that the eye of man ever contemplated, or his imagination conceived, was revealed to view, as existing in the darkest and roughest metals and rocks beneath our feet. His last work of the kind was a stand for a telescope. This was a great desideratum in science. As telescopes must be so made as to re- volve in every direction, horizontally and perpendic- ularly, it had always before been supposed necessary * Lectures on Natural and Experimental Philosophy, by George Adams — London, 1799, vol. 1. p. 44-54. Ree's Cyclopedia, Art. Air Pump. Ana- lytical Review, July, 1789. Nicholson's Journal, vol. 1, p. 119. The best account of the American Air Pump is to be found in Dobson's Supplement to the Encycloptedia Britannica, Art. Pneumatics. 106 JOHN PRINCE. to support them on a point, upon Avhich it Avas found impossible to prevent a greater or less vibration, thus introducing uncertainty, to some extent, into the ob- servations of astronomers. Dr. Prince contrived a stand, on which the telescope rests in a solid bed, with perfect firmness, and at the same time is mov- able in every direction and by the slightest touch of the finger. The following is the conclusion of the description given by him of this ingenious structure, as published by the American Academy: " I made the brass work myself, and finished it on my birthday, — eighty years old." It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to do jus- tice to Dr. Prince's claims upon the gratitude of the scientific world. His modesty and indifference to fame were so real and sincere that it never occurred to him to take pains to appropriate to himself the im- provements and discoveries he had made. Fortunately for the cause of science, his whole phi- losophical and literary correspondence has been pre- served. All his own letters, and many of them are very elaborate and minute, containing full discussions, and, frequently, drawings executed by the pen, were carefully copied out into manuscript volumes. These manuscript volumes are the monuments of his genius, and the only record of his contributions to the cause of science. It was his custom, when he had made an im- provement in the construction and use of a philosophi- cal instrument, instead of pubhshing it to the world, to communicate a full description of it, by private let- ter, to the principal instrument-makers in London. During his whole life, down to March 19th, 1836, the date of his last letter to Samuel Jones, of London, he JOHN PRINCE. 107 has, in this manner, been promoting the interests of science, Avhile his agency, to a very great extent, has been unknown to the public. A long letter, occupying ten closely written pages, is found under the date of Nov. 3d, 1792, addressed to George Adams, of London, and containing a full description of an improved construction of the Lucer- nal microscope. On the 3d of July, 1795, he wrote another letter to Mr. Adams, describing still further improvements in the same instrument. Without mak- ing any public acknowledgment of his obligations to Dr. Prince, Mr. Adams proceeded to construct Lucer- nal microscopes upon the plan suggested by him. Shortly after the death of Mr. Adams, which occurred in the latter part of 1795, an article appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine, signed by John Hill, a dis- tinguished cultivator of science, in which the import- ance of these improvements Avas shown at large, and illustrated by a plate. The writer stated that he had procured his instrument from Mr. Adams a short time before his death, and that Adams intimated to him, at the time, that he had been indebted for some import- ant suggestions in its construction, to " a clergyman." The purpose of Mr. Hill's communication seemed to be, in part to make known the improvement, and in part to draw out the clergyman who had invented it. Dr. Prince's attention was directed to Mr. Hill's pub- lication by his London correspondent, but it is not found that he answered the inquiry, at the time, or took any steps to secure the credit, with the readers of the Gentleman's Magazine, of the beautiful and truly ingenious construction which had attracted so much curiosity and admiration. He, probably, preferred 108 JOHN PRINCE. to let the subject drop, rather than keep it before the pubhc to the disadvantage of the memory of his friend. After the death of Mr. Adams, his successor in business, Mr. WilHam Jones, sought Dr. Prince's cor- respondence in language of which the following is a specimen, extracted from a letter, dated London, Feb. 18, 1797 : " A correspondence with you, sir, will be as flatter- ing to me as it is desirable. I have long heard of your knowledge and expertness in science, and shall be happy to receive any communications that have resulted from your study and experience." In a letter, dated July 3, 1797, Mr. Jones repeats his solicitations, as follows : " Your celebrity as a philo- sopher is not a little known in this country. Mr. Jefferson, many years ago, mentioned your name to me, and showed me the description of your air pump. A correspondence with you respecting science and in- struments, will be highly gratifying to me, and what small leisure an unremitting attention to business will permit, I shall be happy to snatch occasionally for your information." The correspondence, thus commenced with this en- lightened and philosophical mechanician, was contin- ued with him, and after his death, with his brother, without intermission, to the close of Dr. Prince's life, and became the foundation of a sincere and most in- teresting friendship. It is indeed delightful to witness the genial influence of scientific pursuits upon the affections, binding together the hearts of those between whose persons an ocean had always rolled. The letters of Messrs. William and Samuel Jones are full of expressions of admiration and gratitude to- JOHN PRINCE. 109 wards Dr. Prince. In one of them, dated March 3, 179S, Mr. Jones says, "It is to you that the Air Pump and Lucernal owe their present state of per- fection and improvement." In another, dated Sep- tember 29, 1798, he -says, " In all respects I think you have made the Lucernal as complete and as simple as it can be made." Under the date of March 4, 1798, Mr. Jones acknowledges the adoption of Dr. Prince's " very useful and ingenious emendations" in the con- struction of the " astronomical lanthern machinery." Thus a constant intercommunication of friendly offices was kept up for nearly forty years. The cor- respondence is creditable to the Messrs. Jones in every point of view. On the part of Dr. Prince, it contains a body of instruction such as can nowhere else be found, and would be regarded as an invaluable direc- tory, by all whose business or whose pleasure it is to make use of the instruments of science. Dr. Prince was eminently learned in almost every department of Natural Philosophy. And what he knew, it was his great delight to communicate. His visitors were introduced, through his admirable appa- ratus and specimens, to all the wonders of Astronomy, Optics, Pneumatics, Botany, Mineralogy, Chemistry, and Entomology. Indeed there is nothing beautiful, brilliant, dazzling, or rich, in any department of the outward world, and which the ingenuity and skill of man has yet been able to explore, which he did not spread out before them. And all was illustrated, ex- plained, and set forth, with a facility, a clearness, a sprightliness of manner, which never failed to charm the admiring listener. As an experimental lecturer and- operator, in his own parlor and surrounded by his 10 110 JOHN PRINCE. private friends, he was never surpassed by any public professor of science. The delightful amenity and simplicity of his manners and spirit were in admirable harmony with the genius of science itself, and he never explored the glorious mys'teries and glittering recesses of nature, without discerning, and causing all others to discern and adore, traces of the power and wisdom of its author. Wherever he walked with science there he walked with God. Whenever he led another into the hidden halls of nature's temple, he taught him to pay glad and admiring homage to the enshrined divinity. Dr. Prince brought his scientific skill and learning to contribute to the diffusion of useful instruction and refined entertainment in a great variety of ingenious methods. He was as much interested in man, as in nature. His knowledge of the history and usages of nations was very extensive. All the arts of civilized and social life had engaged his study. In architect- ure, painting, and the fine arts generally, his taste was highly cultivated. His collection of engravings and specimens was very extensive and curious. By means of optical instruments he Avas enabled to make a most satisfactory display of all these treasures of knowledge. In the course of a winter's evening, his delighted visitor, sitting all the while quietly in his chair, was enabled to inspect the temples and the structures of ancient and modern Rome, to explore the ruins of the old world, to traverse the streets of London, Paris, St. Petersburg, to visit the villas of Italy, and noblemen's seats in England, to watch the successive aspects of an eruption of -^tna or Vesuvius, and liter- ally to survey the whole earth and the glories of it. JOHN PRINCE. Ill Thus did our venerable philosopher make science contribute to his own happiness and improvement, and to the happiness and improvement of his friends and acquaintances. The character and reputation of Dr. Prince as a Divine, were injuriously affected by his very great eminence as a Philosopher. The world is reluctant to believe that a single mind can fully master more than one department of knowledge ; and if a person has vindicated a title to be placed in the front rank in any branch of attainment foreign to his professional pursuit, it has been inferred that he could not possibly be equally distinguished in that profession. This is, in general, a safe mode of reasoning ; but we know that there are cases in which it is not applicable. Dr. Prince was a very learned theologian. Those who have had much intercourse with him will justify this declaration. In all the facts, illustrations, and rea- sonings that constitute the science of natural theology, his philosophical attainments gave him preeminence. He was thoroughly versed in revealed religion. His views of the interpretation and general criticism of the scriptures were wise and comprehensive. Few divines have ever been so conversant with the history of opinions in the church. His acquaintance with the literature of theology was extraordinarily minute and exact. With the character, bearing, and general contents of every work of note, in our language, or in the Latin tongue, he was familiar. Having for more than half a century corresponded with the prin- cipal London booksellers and been in constant receipt of their catalogues, he had enjoyed great facilities for 112 JOHN PRINCE. the accumulation of a theological library, and was possessed of a most valuable, rare, and extensive col- lection of standard works. It is defective only in the modern publications which have issued from Germa- ny. Dr. Prince had no book in his library which he had not read, and whatever he read he always re- membered. Although he was justly numbered among the liberal clergymen of the present day, his preaching, in refer- ence to the doctrines inculcated, has, I am inclined to think, been but little, if at all, affected by any of the controversies of the last half century. His theological sentiments were always substantially the same, and would probably be found to harmonize very nearly with the views in which serious and candid Christians of both parties, if they could get rid of the disturbing influence of names and phrases and sectarian lines of division, would discover themselves to be united. His preaching was rational, catholic, philosophical, and liberal, and although not calculated to be popular at the present day, was duly estimated and admired by our predecessors. His appearance in the pulpit was venerable and impressive in the highest degree, and the tones of his voice were truly noble and melo- dious. His figure was tall, and although very much bent by age, remarkably graceful and dignified. His dress was perfectly conformed to the fashion of the old school, and a full head of hair, perfectly whitened by time, was gathered in curls above his shoulders, so as to resemble the wigs worn by our ancestors, for which it was often mistaken. He preached his last sermon in the afternoon of the 17th of April ; and JOHN PRINCE. 113 the image of his hoary locks and benevolent counte- nance will not soon grow dim on the memories of those who saw him on that occasion. Dr. Prince's published sermons bear strong marks of his excellent abilities and learning. His discourse on the death of his early friend and beloved associate, Dr. Barnard, is an admirable production, and in some passages exhibits an almost unrivalled tenderness of sensibility and beauty of expression. Great as was his taste for human science and philo- sophy, theology was the subject upon which he most loved to meditate, theological works were most fre- quently in his hands, and, as he advanced towards the end of life, among his most delightful anticipations of the heavenly state, must have been the disclosure there to be made, of all those truths, relating to eternity, the soul, and its author, about which his thoughts had been so habitually exercised. It remains to speak of Dr. Prince as a Christian. He was indeed a Christian, for he had the spirit of Christ, which is a spirit of gentleness, tenderness, and love. He loved God most devoutly ; and he so loved man, that he seemed not to know how to cherish any other affection towards him. He was incapable of hatred or enmity ; and, as he was an enemy to no one, so had he not an enemy in the world. The circumstances connected Avith the history of Dr. Prince's improvements on the Lucernal micro- scope, have been mentioned in another part of this memoir. The fact that Mr. George Adams neglect- ed to make him known as the author of those improve- ments was freely remarked upon by others. One of his philosophical correspondents, in a letter dated 10* 114 JOHN PRINCE. London, March 3d, 1798, thus alludes to the subject : " I am rather surprised that the late Mr. Adams ap- pears not to have made known the person to whom he was under so many and repeated obligations." But while such remarks fell from others, they were never known to pass the lips of Dr. Prince. The feelings they express were not permitted to enter his breast. It was a beautiful and most noble trait in his character, and one which was impressed upon the notice of every observer, that he was incapable of jealousy and suspicion. So far from allowing himself to harbor unkind feelings towards Mr. Adams, or to indulge the idea that he had treated him with injustice, he rejoiced in his reputation, delighted to promote his prosperity, and when he heard of his death, was most deeply and tenderly affected. The Christian piety of Dr. Prince was put to the severest test. Life had for him its full share of troubles, and the disease of which he finally died subjected him to the most excruciating sufferings, but no one ever heard a murmur or a complaint pass his hps. Neither the spirit of resignation nor the spirit of faith deserted him for a moment. The gospel shed its sweetest and divinest radiance upon his bed of suffer- ing and death, and \ve may humbly hope that his spirit has been received to its rest and welcomed to the rewards of benevolence, integrity, and truth. Old age, to those who reach it, is a sure test of character. To the man whose passions have been his masters, and whose mind has not been furnished to endure its trials, old age is but one protracted sea- son of weariness, wretchedness, and woe. But to the true Christian, and the real philosopher, it is, not- JOHN PRINCE. 115 withstanding its infirmities, a most precious period. It aifords an opportunity of rest and repose ; the labors of life accomplished, the mind can calmly and quietly look back over the past, and if the past has been void of offence and usefully spent, it can look forward and upward with peace, hope, and joy. " Oh happy old age ! he is unworthy to reach thee, who fears thee, he is unworthy to have reached thee, who complains of thee." * The last years of the life of our venerable friend realized the brightest picture of a happy old age. By the kindness of his people he was released from labor and care, — a long respite was given him, after the day of toil was over, and before the summons came to depart. In the pursuits of philosophy and religion ; in the peaceful and cherished society of a kindred spirit ; in the company of his friends ; in the exercise of amiable affections towards man, and of admiring adoration towards God, the glories of whose creation he was continually exploring ; and in the enjoyment of enough of this world's goods to meet his wants, he quietly descended the lengthened vale of years. He had his trials, and at times they were severe indeed, but his patience and faith were sufficient to sustain him while they lasted, and when they had passed away, the very memory of them seemed to be oblit- erated by the pleasant engagements which, in cheer- ful conversation, in instructive books, in philosophical experiments, and in the employments of his workshop, were ever at hand. His faculties of body and mind remained sound and bright to the end, " his eye was * " O Felix ^tas I Indigiius est ad te pervenire, qui te metuit. Indignus pervenisse, qui te accusat ! " — Petrarch. 116 JOHN PRINCE. not dim, nor his natural force abated ; " and at last he came to his " grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn comes in the season thereof." In contemplat- ing such an old age, we cannot but adopt the senti- ment, although the conceit may be regarded as some- what extravagant, which a quaint writer expressed on a similar occasion — "What a lovely spectacle ! the angels of heaven fly to the windows of heaven to look upon such a spectacle." MEMOIR EZRA RIPLEY. ^ EZRA RIPLEY. The materials, for the following biographical sketch, are not abundant. Dr. Ripley was not connected conspicuously with any great revolutionary movements, political or religious. He published but little, and that on no great public occasion, or deeply exciting subjects. It was his highest ambition to excel in a sphere humble in the eye of man, but highest of all in the eye of God, the office of a faithful minister of Jesus Christ. Many of his best thoughts, his noblest acts, have been unrecorded, save in the book of life. He kept nothing in the form of a journal, except a memorandum of a few facts and resolutions, at inter- vals of five, ten, and twenty years ; and even these he had scruples about preserving. " I have serious ob- jections," says he in a memorandum, " to the keeping of a diary to be inspected after death, even if it could be kept with exactness and truth. What is bad in me, why should the world know, further than it observes ? and if there be any thing good, by the grace of God, will not the daily exhibition of it be the best evidence to the world ? " Ezra Ripley was born. May 1, 1751, at Woodstock, 120 EZRA RIPLEY. Connecticut. He was the fifth of nineteen children. His father was born at Hingham, Massachusetts, on the farm first purchased by William Ripley from Eng- land, at the first settlement of the town. On this farm the seventh and eighth generations now live. He followed the business of farming till sixteen years of age. But he early manifested a strong desire for learning, and a marked love for the ministerial office and character. A large family and moderate circumstances would not allow his father, in justice to the other members of his family, to think of giv- ing him a liberal education ; but by his own exertions and the patronage of Dr. Forbes, of Gloucester, he fitted himself for college, and entered the Univer- sity at Cambridge, July, 1772. The unsettled state of the times was very unfavorable to intellectual culture. The storm of the Revolution soon burst upon the country, and in 1775, in his senior year, the college was removed to Concord. The studies were very much broken up, many of the students en- tered the army, and the class never returned to Cam- bridge. But where a true thirst for knowledge and a settled purpose of self-improvement existed, these ob- stacles only fanned the flame. There was an unusu- ally large number of distinguished men in this class of 1776 ; Christopher Gore, Governor of Massachusetts, and Senator in Congress ; Samuel Sewall, Chief Jus- tice of Massachusetts ; George Thacher, Judge of the Supreme Court ; Royall Tyler, Chief Justice of Ver- mont ; and the late learned Dr. Prince, of Salem. Among these distinguished men. Dr. Ripley sustained a good rank as a scholar. But he was more distin- guished for the high tone of his moral and religious EZRA RIPLEY. 121 character. Although remarkably social in his feelings, and having a keen relish for wit, and possessing a rare tact for giving point and spirit to an anecdote or in- cident, yet he never descended to what had the ap- pearance of vulgarity or impurity, which was much more common at that time than at present, not only among young men in college, but older and graver men, of the highest cultivation and refinement. He was so remarkable for standing aloof from this, and from all the tricks and habits of college life, that sa- vored of immorality or impropriety, that he was call- ed by his classmates holy Ripley. He survived all his classmates except two. After teaching for a time in Plymouth, and studying divinity about a year with Mr. Haven, of Dedham, he was approbated to preach. Soon after, he received a unanimous invitation of the church in Concord, and the unanimous invitation of the town, with one exception, to become their pastor. He accepted, ,and was ordained, November 7, 1778. He was now settled over a large congregation in one of the most flourishing towns in the Commonwealth. He had reached that station to which he had looked forward with ardor from childhood, for which he had made so many exertions and sacrifices, and which was, above all others, congenial to his mind and dear to his heart. He burned to devote all the energies of his mind, and all the powers and affections of his nature to it. But fresh obstacles awaited him. The times were disordered, and the currency depreciated. Five hundred and fifty pounds settlement, when paid, was found to be worth only forty pounds. A year's salary would scarcely support him a month. For many 11 122 EZRA RIPLEY. years he did a man's work in the field, more than three days out of the week, on an average. When the times became more settled, the town made up the loss in part. But it could not repair the loss of min- isterial studies and acquirements, and this he lamented the most deeply. He has often been heard to say, that, if he could have recalled the first fifteen years of his ministry, and devoted himself exclusively to the studies and duties of his office, he would have gladly lived upon bread and water. As his circumstances became more easy, his heart, ever true to his profes- sion, as the needle to the pole, turned to it with a more exclusive interest. Let us now turn to his religious character and ex- perience. From a very early period, he manifested a profound moral and religious sensibility. At the age of about five, he had been an attentive listener to what the Scriptures say of the liar and his doom. One day he was observed by his father to be in a flood of tears, and inconsolable. On inquiry, he found the cause to be, that a little brother had told a falsehood, and it was for him that he was dreading the divine displeasure. This deep moral and religious sentiment was what led him early to look with so much rever- ence and desire to the ministerial office. But it was not until sixteen years of age, that he dated the first decisive awakening of his religious nature. In a ter- rible storm of thunder and lightning, the bolt of heaven descended, and, in his own words, " licked up the spirit " of a fellow-being before his eyes. I can- not forbear mentioning here, that precisely the same thing happened to Luther, and at about the same age, and with the same result. As he was walking with his EZRA RIPLEY. 123 friend Alexis, and had arrived at his own door, the bolt struck Alexis ; he fell dead at Luther's feet. They were both struck to the heart by these reflections. In spite of all obstacles, the one retired to the convent at Erfurt, to devote himself entirely to religion, the other girded himself with all his energies to prepare for the gospel ministry. And the way in which he was to fulfil his ministry was from the first no less obvious, and the subject of no less anxiety, than the end itself. It was by self- improvement. He knew that if he was to illuminate other minds, it could only be by the light that was first kindled in his own ; that he could warm other hearts to piety and love only by the warmth of his own affections. Accordingly, he made it his system- atic aim to cultivate his religious nature. To show in what spirit he set about and carried on this work, a quotation is offered from the memorandum before alluded to. This was a brief record of some of the more striking passages of his life, and the deeper ex- ercise of his feelings at intervals of five, ten, and twen- ty years. It was designed entirely for private use. The first entry is the following : — " Having set apart this 6th day of November, 1778, as a day of secret fasting and prayer, previous to my expected ordination, I have renewedly and solemnly dedicated myself to God and his service, and have most seriously formed in his presence the follow- ing resolutions : — . . " Resolved, 1. That I will endeavor more in future to live agreeably to my vows. 2. That I will maintain a daily and close walk with God. 3. That I will not lose nor misspend precious time. 4. That I will govern my passions. 5. That I will observe strict temperance in eating and drinking. 6. That I will daily watch for opportunities to do good- 124 EZRA RIPLEY. 7. That I will follow the rule, ' Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye the same unto them.' 8. That I will every evening reflect on the transactions of the day, and inquire what and where I might have done more and better. 9. That I will study the Holy Scriptures with so much diligence and application as may make evident to me my increase of know- ledge therein. 10. That I will not allow myself in vain and trifling conversation. These to be read or said once a week." Some may think lightly of such resolutions. But if one is to build a house, he must have a plan before him, and shape all his endeavors with reference to it. If he is to secure any great worldly end, every step in the process of means is laid out, and recurred to daily. Is it not equally necessary, in building the temple within, and securing the great end of our being ? The great error is, that people think they can secure this without any distinct plan. What an effect it must have, to keep these great points of duty distinctly be- fore the mind, and weekly to embalm them in prayer and in tears ! What a blessed thing to live up to these resolutions, and what an arduous I Take one single resolution, which may appear to some the most indifferent of all; "to observe strict temperance in eating and drinking." By making it a distinct object to live up to this daily, what consequences follow ! How much is it owing to this that Dr. Ripley en- joyed that confirmed health with so delicate a consti- tution, that activity of the social and religious affec- tions, that protracted life, that serene old age I Thirty years did not lessen his sense of the value of these resolutions. At the close of this period, he made the following entry: — "With penitence for my fre- quent deviations from the fixed purposes of my heart, EZRA RIPLEY. 125 and humble application to the throne of grace, I do renew my engagements to the Lord in the ministry, and particularly to observe with increased care the preceding resolutions." Four years after he writes : — "I have been wont to make new-year's day a day of serious reflections on the past, and resolutions for the future, with devotional exercises. It is matter of encouragement to me, that, whatever cause of re- gret and humiliation I find in a retrospective view, I am sensible of increased firmness and zeal in my reso- lutions." At the close of forty years of his ministry he makes the following entry: — " There is an increased atten- tion of many of my people to religion. I see reason to be deeply humble, that, as a minister of Christ, I have done no more and no better, and to be unfeign- edly thankful that God has so far owned and blessed my labors ; that so many of my people exhibit sub- stantial evidence of possessing real religion, and are generally so well united in religious and civil concerns. It is a rich comfort to me, that, by the grace of God, I am conscious of unabated zeal and resolutions in the proper duties of my office, and to devote anew the remainder of my days and strength, to promote the spiritual interests of my people, accomplish my minis- terial Avork, and to be faithful unto the death." He adds : — "I have half a mind to erase the preceding, because it seems to savor of self-applause, and promise what may never be done. But will God in boundless condescension accept my desires, grant me mercy to pardon, and grace to help, and success to crown, through my blessed Redeemer!" We know not which to admire most here, his humility, his joy in the 11* 126 EZRA RIPLEY. religious prosperity of his people, or his hearty devo- tion to the ministry. Scarcely any minister ever took so deep an interest in the temporal prosperity of his people, as Dr. Ripley. The honor of the town was almost as dear to him as that of his own family. Education, temperance,* and morals were the sub- jects of his watchful care. But the religious prosper- ity of his people was his great concern. Nothing satisfied him without this. In the forty-fifth year of his ministry he writes: — " My people are in peace, and harmony, and very great favor. They appear to be respectful, affectionate, and kind towards me ; but yet many are careless on religious subjects, and many, apparently pious believers in the Gospel, neglect the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. Many who mean to be Christians, and hope for salvation through Christ, will not realize the importance of obedience to him in his precepts and institutions." Throughout this memorandum, in which there are entries made at intervals, till 1831, there is the same great purpose of self-improvement, the same ardent desire to fulfil his ministry. Throughout these records, there is the deepest sincerity apparent. There is evidently the feeling, that it is a transaction between God and his own soul. The exactness, with which he recorded his true purposes and feelings, is strikingly illustrated in the last entry but one, made in 1826. " I have made up my mind," he says, " to write no * Dr. Ripley formed, more tlian thirty years ago perhaps the first Tem- perance Society that was ever formed. He went round among his people and got them to agree to banish intoxicating drinks from funerals. He was a member of the old Massachusetts Temperance Society. He early adopted the total abstinence principles, although told by physicians and friends, that, at his time of life, a little wine was necessary. EZRA RIPLEY. 127 more of my religious views, feelings, and resolutions. So many and great have been my trials the two past years, that I am liable to write things under the in- fluence of feehng rather than understanding. I prefer silence, where there is not a certainty of uttering truth." From this preparation of the heart, his fidelity in the outward duties of his office was such as we might expect. In obedience to the apostolic injunction, he gave himself ivJwUy to the work. He made a thorough preparation for every duty, public and private. No- thing was done in a loose and hasty manner. The smallest details of propriety in act or word never es- caped him. As a preacher, he was eminently practical. This was the most prominent and pervading trait. His great object was to do good. He strove to make an exhibition of truth, suited, not to a few intellectual minds, not to some imaginary state of society, but to the actual moral condition of the great body of his hearers. Like his great Master, he looked not so much to the logical connection and scientific arrange- ment of truth, as to its application to the wants and hearts of his hearers. Of course he dwelt very little on metaphysical or technical doctrines. It was his aim to bring down to the apprehension and hearts of his hearers the doctrines of the paternal character and moral government of God, and unfold the way of life and salvation as taught by Jesus Christ. Faith, repentance, obedience, holiness of heart and of life, were the great central points of his preaching. In the application of truth, he was pointed, and often searching. On one occasion, after preaching on the state of the heart proper for uniting with the 128 EZRA RIPLEY. church, a woman, who had been propounded, came to him and inquired by what means he had become acquainted with certain traits in her character. On another occasion, after preaching on the character and condition of the intemperate man, one of this class was seen, on Monday morning dressed up and directing his steps towards the house of the pastor. On being asked if any of his family were sick or dead, he re- plied, No, but he was going to talk with Dr. Ripley for pointing him out, and holding him up before the congregation. Dr. Ripley's preaching was also raUonal. By this, it is not meant that he addressed only the understand- ing. He sought to reach the heart and conscience through the understanding. He sought to bring out the invisible things of God in nature, in the daily e;- - perience of life, in the natural sentiments of the heart, and in the Word of God, in their perfect harmony. He relied not upon blind impulse to make men better. He sought to cultivate the spiritual affections in the broad light of truth and reason. Vegetation needs light as well as heat to a healthy growth. So do the rclipious sentiments. It is not good for the soul that it be without knowledge. It requires time, too. First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear. Dr. Ripley relied on the power of truth and on the Spirit of God for success. He never re- sorted to violent means, and the arts of the zealot. He says in his Half-century Sermon, " There has never been but one period of noticeable religious ex- citement during my ministry in this place. And I cannot say it was really beneficial in its effects. Evi- dence did not appear that its fruits were equal to its first promise and our hopes. Whether any person EZRA RIPLEY. 129 was added to the church, or made really better by it, did not appear. It seemed to me, on reflection, to be more a work of man than of God ; more the effect of human passions and policy, than of divine influence. I was disappointed and humbled ; but gained, as I thought, some useful instruction, and firmer resolutions to trust in God for the revival of pure religion, while we faithfully use the means which he has appointed." His style, like his character, was dignified, and sometimes stately, but remarkably simple and trans- parent. Although not possessing a literary finish, yet it was clear, vigorous, and often pointed and senten- tious. He had great power to insulate a truth, and make it stand out as a real entity. His language was the pure old English, and he always selected the right word, and would concentrate a whole paragraph or discourse in a single expression. His were " the words of the wise, which are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies." In manner he was " decent, solemn, chaste, And natural in gesture ; much impressed Himself, as conscious of his awful charge And anxious mainly that the flock he fed Miglit feel it too ; afiectionate in look, A nd tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men." In old age, and towards the close of life, his manner was particularly striking and impressive. He spoke with the plainness and authority of a patriarch, and with the simplicity and tenderness of a child. But it was in the devotional and pastoral duties of his office that he especially excelled. In the devo- tions of the pulpit, at the communion table, in the 130 EZRA RIPLEY. house of mourning, and especially in his own family — there he was at home. His strong religious sensibili- ties, the piety which he had cherished in secret, the personal interest he felt in every member of his soci- ety, his quick sympathy with joy or sorrow, burst forth spontaneously. It was the language of the heart and of the occasion. In every scene of marked joy or sorrow his presence was regarded as essential. And it was delightful to see, to the last, how the sick and dying, of all ages, enjoyed his visits, and were com- forted by his prayers. At the communion his services were particularly striking, and tlie more so as he drew towards the close of life. His faith here was changed into vision. He seemed to see before his eyes the broken body and the streaming blood of Christ, and to realize the full import of his dying love. His mind rose and expanded Avith the boundless prospect that opened before him. His deepest sentiments of Chris- tian faith and love were called forth, and breathed in every w^ord and tone. These seasons will long be remembered by this church. Time would fail me to speak of all the interesting points of his character ; such as the deep interest he took in the prosperity and respectability of the town ; his abounding hospitality, that kept open doors and an open heart to all who sought it ; his punctual- ity, that never suffered a congregation, nor even a child to wait for him ; his benevolence — but it would be wrong to dismiss this with a single line. Rarely has an individual been known who disregarded the things of this Avorld so much, except for the good they could enable him to do. He was not only ready to empty his pockets to the last cent, for any one brought EZRA RIPLEY. 131 into distress by fire or sickness ; but he made it a matter of conscience to make large annual contribu- tions to almost all the benevolent causes of the day. And if public convenience or ornament required a contribution, he was the first to open his purse. With the strictest economy in his personal expenses, he made it a rule to expend all his income. A few weeks before his death, he estimated what he had left to be just about equal to what had been given him in small sums by his deceased parishioners, as marks of their affection. He was a wise man. Human life did not pass before him in vain. He discerned the true lessons it tausht, and treasured up its results. His conclusions were the result of sound sense rectified by experience. His advice was felt to be valuable. No one could show you your error, or teach you how to correct it, more effectually. Many, and especially clergymen, have been heard to attribute their first knowledge of some error, and how to correct it, to his kind but searching remarks. His advice is now treasured up in many minds in the form of pointed sayings, and would, if collected, make a book of proverbs. He had a remarkable love of order and propriety. But with him it was very far from being a love of form for ils own sake. He felt that the principle of fitness applied to manners as well as morals, to small things as well as great. He believed that the kind feelings have their laws as well as conscience. These, when expressed, form the rules of courtesy. These he believed we need to guard us from the rude impulses of each other. He felt them to be a species of morals. He would no more withhold from a fellow being the 132 EZRA RIPLEY. suitable expression of respect, than he would withhold his pecuniary rights. This strict regard to manners was far enough from being an empty formality. It was the natural expression of dignity of mind, kind- ness of heart, and a delicate conscience. Dr. Ripley's mind was also conservative. But this was equally removed from a blind attachment to tra- dition and a reckless spirit of innovation. If we divide men into three classes, the conservatives, the reform- ers, and the radicals. Dr. Ripley would belong to the reformers. His whole life was on the side of reform. He was warmly in favor of the American Revolution. In the great religious struggle, he took an early and decided stand on the side of independent judgment and the rights of conscience. He modified the views in which he had been educated, as fast and as far as the hght broke into his own mind. He was early in adopting all the improvements of the age. He was a devout believer in the progress of society, and has given us, in his Half-century Sermon, an en- couraging picture of the improvements of the last gen- eration. His mind was open as a child's, even to the last, and he modified some of his religious views within a year of his death. But the reform which he sought was the slow and sure growth of wisdom and experience, and not the rapture of impatience and violence. He did not throw away the rehgion in which he had been educated, as soon as he discovered a single error in it. He did not utterly reject a doctrine as soon as he felt that there was something wrong in it. He waited until he clear- ly saw where the error was, and then he rejected the error and retained the truth. In this way there has EZRA RIPLEY. 133 been a steady progress in his mind, and no violent changes. He was educated in the Trinitarian and Calvinistic doctrines. And although he rejected the five points, as soon as he became of age, yet it was not so with all the doctrines. The progress of his mind is strikingly illustrated on the church records, in relation to the church covenant. When he Avas settled, the covenant was strictly a creed and a vow. It em- braced all the doctrines of the Assembly's Shorter Catechism. These doctrines were left out, or mod- ified from time to time, with the unanimous assent of the church ; and the doctrine of the Trinity in the form of a creed, or rather the Scripture language which is so interpreted, did not wholly disappear till 1826. The last vestiges of the creed and of the voiv were removed from the covenant in 1840 with his entire assent and approbation. The salutary influence of this course is strikingly illustrated in the success of Dr. Ripley. When he was settled here, there were the seeds of alienation in the society, left by long and bitter divisions in the times of both his predecessors. By his influence he healed these divisions. He held the whole town together in perfect harmony for forty years. Long after most of the churches around were rent asunder by the secta- rian spirit of the times, his was united and peaceful. In the mean time, he carried them forward by the steady progress of his own mind. Dr. Ripley not only did not put forth half-formed views, but he did not advance the truth, until he could do it with a chance of being heard and understood. He acted upon the principle of his Master, " I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now." 12 134 EZRA RIPLEY. He also sought to build up, and not to pull down. And in this he resembles his great Master and Teacher. Jesus did not wage a promiscuous war upon all the false doctrines and practices around him. He did not even assail the gross errors and superstitions of witch- craft, demoniacal possession, and preexistence of souls, which some of his disciples believed in, as appears from their question, " Who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind ? " No ; Christ did not think it necessary • to root up every green thing, before he sowed his seed. His was a mission not so much against error, as for the truth. He knew that if he could but pour in the light, the darkness would flee away ; that if he could but erect the beautiful temple of pure devotion, the temples of heathenism would be deserted ; — that if he could but set forth the glorious and winning character of the true God, the worship- pers of wood and stone would forsake their disgusting idols from very shame, and bow in lowly veneration before the majesty of heaven and earth. This was the wisdom of Jesus ; this also was the wisdom of his humble follower. He received the hght as it came into his ow^n mind, and set it before others, and the errors and imperfect views of education fell oif, as the lower leaves from the growing plant. In conclusion a word must be added of his old age, Avhich was the most remarkable part of his life.. It was remarkable for the vigor and progress of his whole mind and character even to the end. There was a progress in his knowledge and opinions. He con- tinued to hear read all the new views that came out ; and although decidedly opposed to some, yet he was not alarmed. He confided in the power of truth, and EZRA RIPLEY. 135 believed that something might be learned from all classes of .minds. His deep and lively interest in all that was going on in society, and particularly in his ov^^n parish, continued unabated. The freshness and warmth of his sympathies and affections retained al- most a youthful glow. It was by this means that he attracted the young to him, and caused them to enjoy his society and love him like a father. And like the sainted Bulkley, " by a sort of winning, yet prudent familiarity, he drew persons of all ages to come and sit with him, when he could not go and sit with them." It was not till within three or four years, that, in con- sequence of the loss of sight, he made the attempt at extemporaneous preaching, which is so difficult even for those in the zenith of their powers. His success was complete. Although extemporaneous speakers are apt to be wordy and rambling, and old age is still more prone to it ; yet he never was so sententious, direct, and connected. He never once lost his con- nection or recalled a word. His mind kindled and his youthful vigor seemed to return as he went on. His last sermon, preached the day after he was ninety years old, was probably the best he ever preached. It was from these pregnant words : " Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter ; Fear God and keep his commandments ; for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." And finally, he continued to the end to in- crease in spirituality. At the close of forty years of his ministry, he rejoices with humility in the increased firmness and zeal he feels in his religious improvement. He then adds, " I esteem it an important, if not an 136 EZRA RIPLEY. essential evidence of vital religion, that the decline of life be the increase of heavenly-mindedness ; and that as the body descends to the grave, the mind and heart ascend towards heaven. His evidence in this respect was bright. His whole character never improved faster than in the few last years of his life. It was his constant study, as he sat in his chair, to do good to somebody, even to the day before his death. He made it an object to exclude vain thoughts, and keep his mind in a devout frame. In the last few years he seemed to have gained a perfect mastery over a tem- per constitutionally hasty and irritable. As he drew towards the close, his feelings became more kind and tender. A few years ago he had seasons of self- distrust and darkness. But of late they had disap- peared. His faith was triumphant. The grave had lost its terror. On being visited a short time ago he was found to have just returned from his tomb, where he had been to give directions to the sexton with respect to his remains. He spoke of it with com- posure and even cheerfulness. On Friday evening a distant and beloved brother arrived. They spent the evening in delightful in- tercourse and reminiscence of the past. Dr. Ripley led the devotions with more than usual fervor and appropriateness. He retired in perfect health, and fell asleep in Jesus. " No pain, no grief, no anxious fear," invaded his last moments. He continued in the quiet sleep of paralysis, until Tuesday morning about four o'clock, when his spirit took its flight to purer worlds. MEMOIR JAMES FREEMAN 12^ JAMES FREEMAN. James Freeman was born in the neighboring town of Charlestown, where his parents, Constant and Lois Freeman at that time resided, on the 22d of April, 1759. He received his preparatory instruction at the pubKc schools in Boston, under Mr. Lovell and others ; entered college at Cambridge in 1773, and was gradu- ated at that institution in 1777, at the age of 18. Among his classmates are found the names of the late Dr. Bentley, Judge Dawes, and Rufus King. Both at school and at college his morals were pure, and his scholarship, though not distinguished, respectable. He was in the habit of undervaluing his own youthful proficiency ; but his few surviving contemporaries do not speak of it so disparagingly. In after years he was certainly considered to be a ripe scholar, by those who could not well be mistaken in their judgments. He was then an excellent mathematician ; was well acquainted with geography and history at large, and thoroughly so with the geography and history of his own country ; and could read with ease and pleasure the Latin, French, Italian, and Spanish languages. His early life was not without incidents. The last 140 JAMES FREEMAN. year of his college life was spent during the troubles and strong excitements of the opening revolutionary war ; and it is known that his own feelings were so decidedly enlisted on the side of his native and in opposition to the mother country, that he engaged in the disciplinary instruction of a company of men, Avhich was raised on Cape Cod for the purpose of joining the colonial troops. Another incident which may be men- tioned, is, his chartering a small vessel, bearing a cartel, with the design of proceeding to Quebec, with his sister, to place her with her father, who was then in that city. On his passage he was captured by a privateer, and having arrived at Quebec, he was de- tained there, through some misunderstanding or suspi- cion, on board a prison-ship for several months, and during a still longer time as a prisoner on parole. He suffered much inconvenience and trouble in con- sequence, but found opportunity, notwithstanding, to pursue his theological studies. r~ It was just at the close of the war, however, that the event took place, which was to have the principal influence on Mr. Freeman's life — namely his pastoral connection with the church in King's Chapel. On the evacuation of Boston by the British troops in March, 1776, the rector of King's Chapel, Dr. Caner, who espoused the English cause, accompanied them ; and his assistant, Mr. Troutbeck, also went away some months afterward. For about a year the Chapel remained shut. In the autumn of 1777, the congregation of the Old South Church, whose house of worship had been spoiled by the British troops, and used by them as a riding-school, applied to the few proprietors of King's Chapel who were left in Boston JAMES FREEMAN. 141 for permission to worship here. The permission was obtained, and the Old South congregation had the Chapel to their sole use for a few months ; after which, as the proprietors of the church had resumed their services, the two societies worshipped together, the one employing its own forms of worship in the morning, and the other doing the same in the afternoon. Among those Avho officiated at this season for the episcopal society was Mr Sargent, previously of the episcopal church in Cambridge. In September, 1782, the attention of some members of the church was turned towards Mr. Freeman, who was then a candidate for the ministry, and he was invited by a letter from the wardens to officiate as reader, for a term of six months. The invitation was accepted by Mr. Freeman, and he entered on his duties on the 18th of the following October.* In the month of February, 1783, the Old South congregation left the Chapel, and returned to their own house. On the 21st of April, that same year, Mr. Freeman was chosen pastor of this church, at the age of twenty-four. * It is probable that from the very fii-st, Mr. Freeman preached his own sermons, at least a part of the time. This fact is to be inferred from a pas- sage in a letter from him to his sister Lois, afterwards Mrs. Davis, dated December 27th, 1782. Tiiis passage I have been Idndly permitted to copy. It is as follows : " While I was upon the Cape, I endeavored to visit all my friends ; for being now engaged in the church, I expect not to go there again for many years. The first time I preached at the Chapel, the church was opened Avith some degree of splendor. There was an anthem and other pieces of music exceedingly beautiful. The audience was immense, and of such a kind as to overpower all confidence. I felt the weight of it most sensibly. On Christmas day I had another trial of the same kind to pass through. The exertions I am obliged to make on such occasions, keep my mind in a con- tinual agitation. There is a pain attending it, but there is also a pleasure." Mr. Freeman at this time livefl in the family of his friend Mr. Minot, where he remained till he was himself married. 142 ' JAMES FREEMAN. When Mr. Freeman consented to act as reader at the Chapel, he stipulated only for liberty to omit the reading of the Athanasian Creed. Leave to do this seems to have been yielded without difficulty ; at which we need not wonder ; for although the members of the church were orthodox, and attached to episcopacy, the Athanasian Creed was probably no favorite' with any one, and was therefore easily if not cheerfully resigned. That the general sentiment was against that strange compound of unintelligible definitions and unchristian anathemas, is to be inferred from the fact, that on the regular formation and establishment of the American Episcopal Church, it was not admitted into her Lit- urgy. It stands to the credit of that church, that this offspring of the darkness of a dark age, has never disgraced the Book of her Common Prayer. The mind of Mr. Freeman was at first satisfied with being allowed to omit the reading of the obnoxious creed. The prayers for those in authority were of course altered, to suit the altered political state of the country. In other respects the service vs^hich he read, as well as the service of all other episcopal churches, was precisely that of the Church of England ; the Liturgy of the American Episcopal Church not being adopted till the year 1785. But it was not long before he began to feel scruples concerning other parts of the service, especially those which expressed or implied a belief in the doctrine of the Trinity. As he thought, and read, and studied, and conversed on the subject of this doctrine, he became more and more convinced that it w^as unscriptural and untrue, and more and more uneasy in reading passages of solemn devotion, in which it Avas assumed as a Christian truth. It was JAMES FREEMAN. 143 a season of great mental trial. On the one side were I ancient custom, and venerable authority, and the opin- / ions and feelings of respected and beloved friends, ' urging him to remain in the former ways ; while on the other were a careful conscience and deepening convictions of truth, commanding him to depart from them. He communicated his difficulties to those of his friends with Avhom he was most intimate. He would come into their houses, and say, " I must leave you. Much as I love you, I must leave you. I can- not conscientiously perform the service of the church j any longer, as it now stands." But since he had been among this small remnant of episcopalians as their minister, he had endeared himself to them by his en- gaging manners and his pastoral services, and it was by no means easy for his friends to part with him. At length a suggestion was made, which terminated in happy and important results. It was said, " Wh y not stateyour difficulties, and the grounds of them, pub- licly to your whole people, that they may be able to judge of llic; case, and determine whether it is such as to require a separation between you and them, or not ? " The suggestion Avas adopted. He preached a series of sermons, in which he plainly stated his dissatisfaction with the trinitarian portions of the Liturgy, went fully into a,n examination of the trinitarian doctrine, and gave his reasons for rejecting it. He has himself as- I sured me that when he delivered those sermons, he was under a strong impression that they would be the last he should ever pronounce from this pulpit. He supposed that some of his hearers might be favorably aftected by his arguments, but he could scarcely hope 144 JAMES FREEMAN. that they would meet with general approbation. He had unburthened his mind ; he had justified his course ; and he made himself ready to resign his ministerial connection. But such, as you well know, was not the event. He was heard patiently, attentively, kindly. The greater part of his hearers responded to his senti- ments, and resolved to alter their Liturgy and retain their pastor. The first vote favoring this conclusion was passed on the 20th of February, 1785 ; by which vote a committee was appointed to report such altera- tions in the Liturgy as were deemed necessary. Al- terations were reported, in general conformity with those made in the amended Liturgy of Dr. Samuel Clarke ; and on the 19th of June, the proprietors vo- ted, by a majority of about three fourths, to adopt those alterations. Thus did Dr. Freeman, by following the dictates of his reason and conscience, become the first preacher in this country of what we hold to be a purified Christ- ian faith ; and thus, through the means of his mental integrity and powers of exposition, did the First Epis- copal Church in New England, become the First Unitarian Church in the New World. This is mentioned not as a matter of boasting, but as an historical fact. He, never boasted of it, or indeed of any thing which he ever did or helped to do ; and at that time the change in doctrine and service which was effected, was not certainly re- garded by pastor or people as a subject of triumph, but of serious and arduous duty. No motive of future fame or reputation could have been before them ; but only a sense of the great opposition and JAMES FREEMAN. 145 odium which would press upon them from without, together with a deep resolve to bear up against it. It may be said that the relation in which Dr. Freeman stands to the Unitarian Christianity of tRis country, is the fruit of circumstances alone ; that it was because he happened to be placed in a peculiar situation, at the commencement of our independent national existence, that he was led to be the first open propounder and defender of a regenerated faith. It would not be easy to say what events and what rela- tions are not in some measure the fruit of circum- stances. In circumstances we behold the hand of an omnipresent and overruling Providence ; but in the use, the neglect or the abuse of those circumstances, are perceived the proofs and marks of human ability, liberty and character. The young reader at King's Chapel was surely placed in peculiar circumstances. It is his praise that he made a right and manly use of them ; that he did not smother his convictions, and hush down his conscience, and endeavor to explain away to himself, for tlie sake of a little false and out- ward peace, the obvious sense of the prayers which he uttered before God and his people, but took that other and far better course of explicitness and honesty. By this proper use of circumstances, he placed himself where he now stands in our religious history. While it is said that Dr. Freeman was the first preacher of Unitarian Christianity in our country, it must not be forgotten that he has himself said, in a note to his sermon on the death of Dr. Howard, " that Dr. Mayheiv may with justice be denominated the first preacher of Unitarianism in Boston, and liis reli- gious society the first Unitarian Society." There is 13 146 JAMES FREEMAN. . no doubt that Dr. Mayhew, and some of his cotempo- raries beside, held opinions which were anti-trinitarian, and did not conceal them. Passages are quoted, in the note above mentioned, from Dr. Mayhew's sermons, which prove that he did not believe in the equality of Christ with the Father ; but they are passages which would not have aroused general attention, or disturbed general prejudices. To such preaching can hardly be awarded the character of an avowal of Unitarian- ism ; and no such avowal was at the time understood to have been made. Dr. Freeman was not the first clergyman in the country who entertained opinions at variance with the received doctrine of the Trinity ; but it is now conceded by all, that he was the first who openly and explicitly avowed and maintained proper Unitarian Christianity. And it cannot but be regarded as happy for the Unitarian cause in this country, that its first avowed preacher was such an one as he. His calm confi- dence in the merits of his cause, the suavity and kind- ness of his deportment, the guard which he kept over zeal, and the regard which he manifested for the good and wise of all denominations, appeared in advantageous contrast with the noise and heat and uncharitableness with which he was at first assailed. His own conviction that the open avowal of his re- ligious tenets would be likely to deprive him of his situation at the Chapel, and the probability that this would be the case, prevented the remotest suspicion that he was actuated by any but the most disinterested motives ; and the purity and probity of his life and conduot, in like manner forbade the supposition that his change of faith could be connected with any prin- .)AAIES FREEMAN. 147 ciples or I'eeliiigs but those which were virtuous and upright. Good and fair-minded men, whether min- isters or laymen, could not refuse him their friendship, and were glad to secure his. Among the latter were Richard Cranch, George Richards Minot, Christopher Gore, Dr. Dexter, and indeed most of the distin- guished men of the time. Among the former were Chauncy and Howard and Eckley, Belknap and Clarke, Eliot and Lathrop. With these men, and such as these, whose names are canonized among us, and whose society he has now gone to rejoin — how short, after all, is the separation which years and the grave interpose between friends I — with these men he lived, on terms of intimacy and confidence; and by the indirect influence alone which he thus exerted on the hearts, if not on the minds of his associates and others, he must have recommended his views in the most unexceptionable manner. But the avowal of obnoxious opinions, and the alterations of the received Liturgy of his church, were not the only difficulties which presented themselves in Mr. Freeman's path, and which he was called upon to surmount. Another difficulty, consequent upon these, was to be engaged and disposed of as it best migtit be. The church was still episcopal in its forms and usages and predilections, and was desirous of obtaining episcopal ordination for its pastor. But how was this to be effected ? Was it probable that any bishop, knowing his sentiments, would be willing to ordain him ? At least the attempt could be made. A letter was accordingly addressed by the wardens to Bishop Provost, dated July 29, 1787, in which they earnestly requested him to bestow ordination on Mr. 148 JAMES FREEMAN. Freeman, but at the same time expressed their deter- mination to adhere to their ahered Liturgy, a copy of which they sent to the Bishop with the letter. Bishop Provost refused, and very properly, to take the re- sponsibility of the ordination upon himself, under the existing circumstances, and stated that the case would be reserved for the consideration of the General Con- vention. The church, on their part, being convinced that the agitation of the subject in the Convention would give rise to much unpleasant debate, and that the result would be unfavorable to their wishes, urged their claims no further in that quarter, but came to the determination of resorting to first principles, and or- daining their minister themselves. Mr. Freeman Avas accordingly ordained by his society alone, as their rector and minister, by a solemn, appropriate, and interesting service, at the time of evening prayer, on the ISth of November, 1787. Forty-eight years after- wards, in that very desk where he stood up, firmly yet meekly, to receive the public sanction of his people's choice, and the Book of God which was placed in his right hand, and the blessing which Avas invoked upon his head, — was his funeral service performed.* A greater outcry, from some quarters, was made on the occasion of this independent ordination, than Avhen the Liturgy was altered and the Unitarian faith was professed at the Chapel. But Mr. Freeman went on quietly in his former course, till its angry echoes died away on his ear. He addressed himself to the duties which were before him, being " an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity ;" " giving attendance to reading, to * November 18, 1S35. JAMES FREEMAN. 149 exhortation to doctrine." Friends multiplied around him ; he saw the opinions to which he had proved himself so true, spreading with a sure and healthy growth ; and his days flowed on in usefulness, honor, and peace. The character of Dr. Freeman was one, which in its more prominent features, could not be mistaken. Honesty and truth the most pure and transparent, associated in happy union with gentleness and urban- ity, unaffected modesty, and real kindness and good will to all men — these were qualities so distinctly marked on his every word and action, and even look, that no one could know him without reading them there. He was remarkably candid, but not, as it is sometimes expressed, candid to a fault. His consid- eration for the feelings of others, saved his candor from hardening into rudeness. He uttered nothing but the truth, but he did not utter it unseasonably or harshly. He always spoke what he meant, but he never meant to wound or to offend ; and if, in a moment of excitement, he did wound or offend, he was ready to pour out his oil and wine to soothe and heal. This union of plainness and kindness, of truth and benignity, was observable in both his conversation and his writings. He was always explicit, but seldom controversial. He would rather defend himself, than attack others. He was truly humble, but he was above all the arts of deception and double dealing ; and he could not be awed or moved in any way from self-respect and duty. He made all allowances for ignorance and 13* 150 JAMES FREEMAN. prejudice and frailty, but arrogance he would not sub- mit to, and hypocrisy he could not abide. Dr. Freeman possessed in a remarkable manner the virtue of contentment. You heard no complaints from him. He was abundantly satisfied Avith his lot ; — he was deeply grateful for his lot. The seren- ity of his countenance Avas an index to the serenity of his soul. The ansrel of contentment seemed to shade and fan it with his wings. " I have enjoyed a great deal in this world," he would often say, " a great deal more than I deserve." " My hfe has been a very happy one," he said to a friend, after his constitution was broken, and he had been exercised for years with a painful disorder, " My life has been a very happy one ; I have suffered nothing." Great philosophical equanimity and self-command were naturally associated with his contented temper, and indeed made part of it. His dignified endurance of provocation, was exemplary. His patience under disappointment was so steady and complete that it was only the few who were acquainted with circum- stances, who knew that he had been disappointed, and these few knew it only from sympathy, and not from any signs in him. Dr. Freeman possessed strong feelings and affec- tions, and was capable of ardent and lasting attach- ments. His general manner, especially in his preach- ing, was so calm, sedate, and rational, with even occasional abruptness, that a transient observer might have been led to suppose that he was not apt to be moved, or that he was even deficient in feeling. But this would have been a mistake. His heart was full of feeling, which not anfrequently rose up to his eyes, JAMES FREEMAN. 151 and flowed out in tears. A similar mistake might have been made concerning his piety. He had seen so much external piety which was false and delusive, that he was induced to restrain the expression of his own religious emotions, as some might think, too care- fully, and thereby permit it to be supposed that they did not exist. But his piety was real, vital, practical, ever-glowing. It was the sun of his internal world, which ripened the rich fruits of his life. All who knew him, knew that he was pious, truly and deeply so. He was generous, though poor. He would cheer- fully cancel a debt, on the debtor's plea of inability, and he valued money only as it enabled him to contri- bute to the comfort of those who needed his assistance. He loved children, and loved to converse with and encourage them, and draw out their faculties and af- fections. His manners, always affable and kind, were never so completely lovely as in his intercourse with them. Naturally and insensibly did he instil moral principles and religious thoughts into their minds,~and his good influence, being thus gentle, was permanent. The same sweetness and consideration were mani- fested toward all who were his juniors. Nothing seemed to give him so much pleasure as to see a vir- tuous, intelligent, and ingeimous youth. Toward young ministers and candidates for the ministry, his bearing was truly paternal. Dr. Freeman was a just man ; a man to be trusted. You could confide your property to him, and, a more delicate trust, your character. He was not blind to the faults of men, nor was he blind to any of their good qualities ; and he would rather dwell on the latter than 152 JAMES FREEMAN. expose the former. He found something good in every one ; and it was his pleasure to find it, and to point it out. No difference of opinion, no public rumor or clamor, could sway the course of this uni- versal justice. If it was swayed at all, it was by his kindliness of heart, which sometimes led him to treat the demerits of an individual more leniently than the interests of strict morality and the demands of strict justice might seem to require. But this was because he was merciful to the sinner, and not because he was insensible to the sin. It was one of his favorite max- ims, that a Christian should be indulgent to others, and severe to himself. The mind of Dr. Freeman was one of great origin- ality. It arrived at its own conclusions, and in its own way. You could not be long in his society, without feeling that you were in the presence of one who observed and reflected for himself. His opinions of books and of subjects, were not the echoes of public opinion, or of the paragraphs of a popular review, or of the judgments of a great man. They were his own, and were expressed with decision, yet without an attempt or a wish to dictate. He liked to hear the opinions of others, and heard them respectfully. "What he said was often racy and pointed, and was sometimes even paradoxical ; but his point was never envenomed, and he would allow so many exceptions and qualifications to his paradoxes, as the conversation proceeded, that they lost their startling guise, and took the aspect of sober truths. Dr. Freeman ranks high among the writers of our country. In early life he contributed a full share to the passing literature of the day — a literature which JAMES FREEMAN. 153 is called fugitive, but which often leaves a permanent impression on the mental and moral character of a people. Afterward he composed some valuable papers for the use of the Massachusetts Historical Society, which were printed in their Collections. This Society, it may be observed, honors him as one of its founders. But his reputation as a writer rests principally upon his published Sermons. These are highly and deserv- edly esteemed ; and their author's mental and moral character is expressed in them more clearly than we can describe it. Their subjects are various, but their style is uniform ; and that style is distinguished for its purity, simplicity, and perspicuity. We do not meet in them with the billowy swells of eloquence, or the lightning flashes of genius ; but they abound in just observation, acute remark, lucid exposition, affectionate appeal, distinct and practical instruction, sincere and confiding piety, with passages of graphic beauty and quiet pathos. You see before you the holy Lake of Gahlee, not disturbed by sudden storms, and tossing the terrified disciples on its wild waves, but bearing up their bark on its quiet bosom, while they sit in peace, and listen to the heavenly wisdom of their Lord. ^ Till the year 1809, Dr. Freeman performed the ministerial duties of this church alone. About this time his strength experienced a decline ; and on the 1st of January of the above mentioned year, the Rev. Samuel Gary was ordained as his assistant and col- league. In this connection, while it lasted. Dr. Free- man was very happy. But it was permitted to last but a short time. The health of Mr. Gary failed ; he was obliged to relinquish his duties ; he sailed for 154 JAMES FREEMAN. England in the hope of restoration, but died there not long after his arrival, on the 22d of October, 1815 ; — and with faltering accents and an almost bursting heart, Dr. Freeman preached the Funeral Discourse on his young and excellent friend. Again he was alone in his charge till the summer of the year 1824, when the present surviving minister of the church accepted an invitation to be settled as his colleague, and was inducted as such on the 29th of August. From his boyhood he had sat under the min- istry of Dr. Freeman ; from his boyhood he had revered and loved him ; and he looked forward to some years at least of that important assistance which a father might render to a son, of that intimate and improving communion which a son might hold with his father. But it was not to be so. The illness of his venerated colleague had so greatly impaired his constitution, that he felt himself obliged to retire from the pulpit about the close of the year 1825, and in the summer of 1826 he went to his residence in Newton, which he left no more, till his spirit departed to a better world. Although for these last ten years of his retirement. Dr. Freeman was obliged to resist the attacks of an obdurate disorder by the daily use of medicine, and was subject to occasional fits of severe agony, yet the work of decline and the progress of infirmity were very gradual with him. In winter he was confined to the house, but in summer and autumn he was gener- ally to be found in his garden, or the grounds about his house, of the cultivation of which he was exceed- ingly fond. It was pleasant to see him, to hear him, to talk with him, and he delighted in the visits and converse of his friends. His appearance, which al- JAMES FREEMAN. 155 ways had been venerable, was now patriarchal. His form was slightly bowed by age ; his blue eyes spoke nothing but kindness and thoughtfulness ; the top of his finely-shaped head was bare, and his remaining locks were as white as snow. It was his desire that he might not outlive his active usefulness, or stay on earth till the faculties of his mind were impaired. But this was in submission to the will of Providence, and it was the will of Provi- dence that he should remain for a time an example of patience and resignation. He never troubled his friends with the repeated expression of this desire to be gone ; his remarkable good sense kept by him to the last, and preserved him from the common and less agreeable peculiarities of old age. Even when his mind grew enfeebled, it shoAved its strength in weak- ness. His memory sometimes failed him, and his ideas would become somewhat confused, within the few months preceding his death ; but his bearing was always calm and manly ; he fell into no second child- hood. He looked upon death as it approached him, with- out fear, yet with pious humility. He viewed the last change as a most solemn change ; the judgment of God upon the soul as a most solemn judgment. " Let no one say when I am dead," he expressed himself to his nearest friends, " that I trusted in my own merits. My own merits are nothing. I trust only in the mercy of God through Jesus Christ." When the attack fell upon him which terminated in his death, he asked the physician who came to see him what he thought of his situation. " You are very ill sir," was the reply. Then the longing to be away 156 JAMES FREEMAN. could no longer be suppressed. " You bear me," was his answer, " the most gratifying intelligence which I have heard for years." He languished in unconsciousness, interrupted by pain, for a few days ; but during the last two days of his life pain left him, and on the night of Saturday, the 14th of November, 1835, in the 77th year of his age, about midnight, he breathed out his spirit as quietly as an infant goes to sleep. His funeral took place at his house in Newton on the afternoon of that day. The sun was setting, as his mortal part was laid in the tomb. The rays shone softly and richly on the quiet and retired village grave- yard. The last leaves of a mild autumn were drop- ping around the friends who were standing there in solemn silence. It was a beautiful and appropriate closing scene. The next day a funeral service was performed in the Chapel, which was attended by the congregation, and by numbers beside, who were desirous of paying this tribute of respect to departed worth. MEMOIR ELIPHALET POUTER. 14 ELIPHALET PORTER. Eliphalet Porter was born June 11, 1758. He died December 7, 1833, making his age seventy-five years and a half. He was the son of a respected aftd venerable clergyman, in North Bridgewater, of this Commonwealth. He was graduated at Harvard Col- lege in 1777. He prepared himself for the ministry under the tuition of his father. There had been a vacancy of several years in the church in Roxbury during the Revolution, Mr. Adams, the former minis- ter, having died in 1775. Mr, Porter was ordained there, October 2, 1782. He was married in October, 1801. His life has not been an eventful one, but has been as free from vicissitudes and striking incidents, as perhaps that of any man who ever lived so long and in so conspicuous a station. It is now a little more than fifty-one years since he entered upon his ministry. He has ever been found constant and faithful at his post. His attachments were ever strong to the place of his choice, and there was the home of his affections. He identified his in- terests and his happiness with those of his people, and he 160 ELIPHALET PORTER used to say in the latter years of his life, that he knew not how the kind providence of God could have better provided for his earthly welfare than by placing him Avhere he was — he knew not how the lines could have fallen to him in a pleasanter place. When he came to Roxbury, it was comparatively the day of small things ; and he has witnessed the growth, of what was then a small and scattered village, into a populous and thriving town. He has witnessed the rising of new houses of worship, where till lately there was but one. And he witnessed them not with alarm or a spirit of hostility, but with satisfaction, as called for by the Avants of a growing town, and he bade them God speed. He was accustomed to remark that this n^w state of things was not so much the division as the multiplication of the fold of Christ. Through all the changes, of whatever kind, that have taken place around him, he has stood unmoved in his meekness and independence, giving none offence, and com- manding the respect and good will of all. The leading points of his character and his manner of life, demand a cursory notice. . As a preacher, his character is not easily mistaken. He was never what is called a popular preacher. He was never followed by the multitude of those " having itching ears," nor was a trumpet sounded before him where he went, nor were his praises heard from the lips of thronging admirers. He was not endowed with that ardor of mind, with that freedom, fulness, and glowing facility of thought or speech, which fit a preacher for that sort of distinction. In the prime of his life, and before the infirmities of advancing age prevented his keeping pace with the ELIPHALET PORTER. 161 changes of style in the pulpit and of taste in the hear- ers, — in his prime (and that is the period from which to estimate any man,) he held a most respectable rank among his contemporaries as a sound, instructive, practical preacher, " rightly dividing the vs^ord of the Lord." There v^^ere many to whom the ministrations of none other were more acceptable than his. He wrote slowly and with labor. He was of a tempera- ment not to be easily excited himself, and accordingly excitement was not the effect of his discourses, but instruction rather, just and clear views of truth and duty, enforced by calm appeals to the understanding and the conscience. He has published but few of his productions. He was called as frequently as most of his brethren to preach on public occasions, and his performance on one such occasion * was received with unusual favor, and is still remembered, and spoken of in terms of high approbation. What the character of such a discourse must have been, may be inferred from the character of the man. It must have been " a word of wisdom," and " a word of knowledge," — "a word in season." Doubtless there was considerable inequality in his productions, as , from the nature of the case there must be much in those of all of his profession. A reason why such a preacher does not become popular in the usual acceptation of that word, is stated by the eminent Robert Hall, with his usual harshness and exaggeration, yet with some foundation in human nature, namely, that " Most hearers are a sort * Sermon before the Massachusetts Couvention of Congregational Minis- ters, dehvered and published in 1810. 14* 162 ELIPHALET PORTER. of spiritual epicures, who prefer a poignant and stim- ulating to a simple and nourishing diet, and would infinitely rather have their passions awakened, than their conscience directed or their iniderstanding en- larged." As to the pastoral character of Dr Porter, the cases must have been rare exceptions, if he ever neglected the sick or the afflicted when his counsels or sympathies were desired. But he began his minis- try at a time when familiar ministerial visiting was not so customary or so much expected as now. Min- isters then acted more upon the letter of the apostolic injunction, " Is any sick among you, let him call for the elders of the church." He seemed to possess but little talent or disposition for free and familiar con- versation on ordinary topics and with persons with whom he was not intimately acquainted. Accordingly, he never acquired the general character of a frank, social, and affable man. Among the great diversity 'of human gifts under the same spirit, and of which no man can exercise them all, his gifts were of a different class, and he exercised them wisely and well in different spheres. But though he was a man of few words, and of course felt that indiscriminate social intercourse was not his fittest element, yet few men ever spoke with more meaning or to so good purpose, — of few men can we remember more " words fitly spoken." He did not dazzle, but he enlightened. And the weight of his character, and the remark- able purity and uprightness of his life, gave an inter- est and an influence to whatever he said, and im- pressed his sententious remarks deeply upon the mind. In this age of dogmatism and division, it might be ELIPHALET PORTER. 163 expected that a word should be said of the specula- tive theology of the subject of this notice, of his con- nection with the sects and the controversies of his time, and of the side he has taken. But nothing is said with the intention to identify him with any sect or party, for he was not the man of a sect. He had no senshive dread of being classed with that portion of the Christian community, with which he generally agreed in opinion ; and his professional associations were chiefly, as they must and should have been, with those Avith whom he found he had most sympathy. Yet he knew no party but that whose bounds include the whole church of Christ. He never lent a hand in the work of division. He never kindled the fires of ecclesiastical discord. He never bore or followed the banner of religious warfare. He never bandied the bad words of exclusion and uncharitableness. Wherever he appeared, there was a mild and firm champion of Christian toleration, union, and love. Though he, and such as he, had not power to pre- vent the mischiefs of dissension that have prevailed, yet his benignity of manner, his collected temper, his acknowledged wisdom, and his unfailing exhibition of a Christian spirit, have had on many occasions, and on many points, a soothing, directing, and most salu- tary influence in the affairs of the church. His speculative opinions on disputed subjects are known. They were never concealed by him, nor ostentatiously and dogmatically set forth. He never bound himself, nor would he have others bound, to any system more specific than the Gospel itself. He believed that Jesus was the Christ and a Saviour — a teacher sent from God. He regarded his plainest 164 ELIPHALET PORTER. instructions, his moral doctrines, as foremost and most important. ^^ Obedience to the faith," was the point most prominent with him, most urged in his preach- ing, and eminently illustrated in his life. Fidelity to Christ, the keeping of his commandments, and the keeping of the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace, seemed to him the true and infallible indications of a sound and saving faith. In regard to the general intellectual attainments of Dr. Porter, he did not take that course in his studies, which is usually essential to great distinction. He did not devote himself to any one subject or branch. Yet on all those subjects with which a man in his station might be supposed to be conversant, he had read and understood the standard authors. On all such subjects he formed opinions, and that, as Ave know he could not, not blindly or hastily, but such as he saw and could give a reason for. On such sub- jects he was ready and he was instructive. In those stations of trust to Avhich the wise and good are called, few men in the community have taken a more active part, or been more efficient and useful than Dr. Porter. In large institutions for objects of charity, and for the promotion of education and religion, his counsels and services have been much in request for arduous and responsible offices. These, there are many to bear him witness, he has faithfully and honorably discharged. They are services which the public can hardly appreciate, but he was emi- nently fitted for them, and he was willing thus to labor, quietly and unambitiously, to be useful in his generation. As a Fellow of the Corporation of the Uni- versity in Cambridge, to which Board he was elected EUPHALET PORTER. 165 in 1818, he is understood to have occupied his respon- sible post with great fidelity and wisdom, and with respect and influence among his distinguished col- leagues. Among his brethren in the ministry, he has been the Patriarch and the Sage. He has been regarded with profound respect and veneration. His counsels have been listened to with unwonted confidence. His memory will be long cherished with sentiments of reverence and aflfection. In the latter part of his life, Dr. Porter was called, in the providence of God, to be more concerned in secular affairs and dealings than suited either his habits or his tastes. These affairs were a trial and a trouble to him. But they involved a duty, and he was faithful to that duty. In these things he has ever shown himself the man of firm and unsuspected integrity. He displayed in them the same cautious- ness and sagacity, which he displayed in every thing else, and which were prominent traits of his charac- ter. He was watchful of his rights, and firmly main- tained them when he thought them in jeopardy. Yet he Avas truly and thoroughly a liberal-minded man. Some generous benefactions bear witness to this re- mark, and other larger ones were in contemplation, whose accomplishment death prevented. Hospital- ity reigned in his house. " He was frugal with- out parsimony and generous without profusion." He was truly liberal to the poor. Many such leaned upon him for succor. He waited but to know that his alms were deserved and would do good, and they were bestowed as freely as upon his own wants. The man could hardly be found of whom a more assured 166 ELIPHALET PORTER. confidence might be felt that avarice is a passion that did not have possession of his bosom, that did not narrow his soul a hair's breadth or chill a drop of his heart's blood. Indeed, his was a mind that seemed never to have been swayed or misled by any passion. Never was man farther from being the creature of passion ; and this great circumstance, in connection with his clear and far-sighted understanding, is that which, while it precluded all brilliancy of mind, stamped him for a man of uncommon prudence and wisdom, and unex- ceptionable purity and probity of character, and made his life a most uniform and tranquil one. He moved among his people an exemplar of correct deportment and of Christian virtue. Had he a single enemy in the world, that enemy might almost be challenged to adduee one instance of moral or social wrong, or even of imprudence or folly. Never had enemy less power to do harm to a character. He was a friend to the whole family of man, and no degree of sin or folly could place a fellow-creature beyond the bounds of his charity and benevolent regards. He was a will- ing and faithful counsellor to all who sought his coun- sel, and to all with whom he felt sufficiently intimate to authorize his offering it. And his Avas advice which it seemed always safe to follow, and which it was seldom well to disregard. Even men near him in age were fain to receive it and be guided by it. If he stood not high among the praised, he Avas certainly preeminent among the trusted. He was not of a temperament to conciliate an ardent and general at- tachment, but those who enjoyed a near intimacy with him could not but feel their respect for his worth and ELIPHALET PORTER. 167 goodness heighten into affection. At the same time, his unvaried urbanity, and tender and careful r.egard to the feehngs of all with whom he had to do, secured the favorable opinion of all. Those who are so blind to the original diversities of human nature, as to recognize a Christian spirit only in the vivid emotions of an ardent soul and the cor- ruscations of a fervent imagination, would probably think lightly of his piety. But he was in truth and soberness a sincerely devout man, one who feared God, and loved his moral image manifested in the Saviour, and kept his commandments sacredly as the apple of his eye. When the infirmities of age and disease seemed to render the full labors of his office too burdensome, he received and cordially welcomed, in July 1830, a fellow laborer in his work, a colleague in the ministry. It is usually a great trial to a minister Avhen he finds in advancing life, that his accustomed duties and means of usefulness must be in a measure suspended, and his familiar and beloved work pass into other hands before his eyes. It is a trial that makes the relation of colleagues one of considerable ^elicacy. If it was ever a trial to him, he bore it so that none saw it, and none suffered from it. In this connection he pursued but one object, that of the prosperity, suc- cess, and happiness of his colleague as of a son. His sympathies were never withdrawn. His reproofs, oftener . deserved than given, were the suggestions of a parental regard ; and his counsels were bestowed freely as the breath of friendship. It was a comfort and a joy to him, that the providence of God had united the hearts of his people in a colleague and successor, and that he had lived to see it. 168 ELIPHALET PORTER. In his last sickness, he was, in some stages of the disease, a sufferer, but a meek and patient one. He knew the prospect, and regarded it with Christian composure, submission, and trust, and he passed away at last gently as an infant to its quiet sleep. He had fought a good fight, he had finished his course, he had kept the faith, he was ready to be glorified. MEMOIR AARON BANCROFT. 15 AARON BANCROFT. Dr. Bancroft is principally known abroad, and will be known to posterity, as among the distill guished advocates of religious freedom in New Eng- land. Mayhew, and Chauncy, and Gay* led the * Mayhew, minister of the West Church in Boston from 1747 to 1766, is undoubtedly to be placed first on the list of the liberal clergy, and of the fearless advocates of religious liberty In New England. He early distin- guished himself, and was in later life the companion and bosom friend of Otis, Qiiincy, and Adams ; and shared their councils in all important meas- ures preliminary to the revolutionary contest. The following extract from the Preface of a volume of his Sermons, is characteristic, and will show the spirit of the man. " I must once for all declare, that I will not be even reli- giously scolded, nor pitied, nor wept, or lamented out of any opinions which I believe on the authority of Scripture, in the exercise of that small share of reason which God has given me ; nor will I postpone this authority to that of all the good fathers of the church with that of the good mothers added to it." In 1746, he preached as a candidate for the ministry in this town, but on trial, a large majority was found opposed to his settlement. It would be a curious though a vain speculation, to inquire what would have been the result, if thus early, in the very infancy of the town, its character and insti- tutions could have been moulded by one of the most enlightened, exalted and pure minds of the age. Dr. Chauncy, the minister of the First Church in Boston from 1727 to 1787, was the friend and eulogist of Dr. Mayhew. There have been no abler defences of religious liberty written, than his " Seasonable Thoughts," and " Complete View of Episcopacy." Dr. Gay, of Hingham, a cotemporary and intimate friend of both Dr. Mayhew and Chauncy, was also an apostle of religious liberty. No man in his times ex- ceeded him in the liberality and generosity of his opinions and practices, He published little, but was distinguished for his literary taste and the bril- 172 AARON BANCROFT. way in vindicating the rights of the human mind — and he, above all others, with his cotemporaries, James Freeman, and Noah Worcester, now gone to their rest, entered on their labors, and carried on the great work which they had begun. He was remarka- ble, perhaps beyond any man, for his deep-seated ab- horrence of every thing like mental slavery, and was jealous with a godly jealousy of every thing that might interfere with the mind's entire freedom He believed that Christianity was intended to emancipate the soul, not only from error and sin, but from prejudice, fromj narrowness, from the fear of man ; and to impart to it \ liberty to act, to choose, and to follow its convictions, I wherever they might lead. And he entered upon the stage of life at a time when the great contest for civil j freedom was going on — but Avhen he thought that f religious liberty was endangered. It is true the period ,' had gone by when the cross, fire, fagots, the prison — those fearful arguments to which bigotry had so often resorted — could longer be used ; — the body was free — but the mind still worked in chains ; it was pent up and stifled, and could not move towards the truth without obstructions that almost crushed it. Men had so fenced religion around with creeds and confessions of faith that it could not be approached freely. Legal persecutions had indeed ceased, but those quite as in- tolerable folloAved the slightest whispers of dissent from established dogmas. Not death, but that which the generous mind scarcely prefers to death — the censures and excommunications of ecclesiastical bo- iancy of his imagination. "Tlie Old Man's Calendar," — a sermon which he preached when he was eighty-fiv^e years old, a beautiful and alTectionate addi-ess, has been justly celebrated. AARON BANCROFT. 173 dies — the blackening of a good name and the blight- ing of fair prospects — the altered tone and averted eye of former friends — constant vexations in social and domestic life, — these were the penalties paid for the love and earnest pursuit of truth. And he ever re- garded the use of these in checking or intimidating the human mind, as an enormous imposition. He could not abide the intolerance which interferes with the soul's anxious inquiries after truth and duty. Nothing moved him so much. He esteemed civil liberty but a name, while the mind was not left free. He thought the social blessings enjoyed among us of but little avail, while this system of mental slavery existed, and he was ready to consecrate his life to its removal. In this cause he counted no sacrifice a hardship, and was willing to labor early and late, and with a zeal and perseverance which could not fail to be crowned with success. Nor did they. Blessed beyond most re- formers, he lived to witness the fruits of his labors.* They are before the eyes of the present generation ; * In the histories of the revolution which has been made in rehgious opin- ions during the last half century, due credit, it is apprehended, has not been rendered him. In the religious periodicals in which there are professedly- impartial accounts of the rise of Unitarian Chi'istianity, no acknowledgment is made of his services ; he is not so much as mentioned. Whereas, no man did more, or, during his lifetime, was permitted to see a more remark- able change than it was his privilege to witness in that portion of New Eng- land, over which his influence particularly extended. Dr. Freeman has been generally regarded as the earliest advocate of Unitarianism in tin's country ; but it is not generally known, that when he was refused ordination by his superior clergy on account of the change in his opinions. Dr. Bancroft had already taken his position, — was consulted by him — had consented to assist at his ordination over the Society at King's Chapel, and was prevented only by their dispensing with an ecclesiastical council and adopting lay ser- vices. In the cause of Christian liberty he has been second to none. In 1805 and in 1822, his efforts, in the convention of Congregational ministers of 15* 174 AARON BANCROFT. and they will be acknowledged by a grateful posterity. If there is now a shadow of Christian liberty in our own fair New England ; if the diflerent sects among us have learned and are learning more and more to respect each other ; if the time shall come, as we trust it will, when they will strive together to promote the improvement and happiness of mankind, to build up and adorn the Church universal — for that we are in- debted, in no small degree, to Dr. Bancroft, and the venerable men who were associated with him in the great contest for religious liberty. That his character and labors may be appreciated, I'et such facts in his history as have been preserved, and are well known, be presented to the reader. His life was not eventful — theirs are not generally so who have done the best service to mankind. He was born in Reading, Mass., Nov. 10, 1755, and would, there- fore, had he reached the approaching autumn, have arrived at the advanced age of eighty-four years. He belonged to that class in society from which New England has received many of her noblest and best men. His father was a farmer, and, as he has been represented, was a man of a strong and original mind, whose conversation and modes of thinking had much influence in producing those habits of manliness, ac- tivity, and free inquiry for which the son was afterwards distinguished. His early youth was spent in the ge- nial and healthful labors of the field ; but when the Massachusetts, to arrest measures, then proposed, wliich were deemed an infringement of the rights of conscience, are well remembered by our elder clergy. When, also, in 1S16, the attempt was made, " to impose upon indi- viduals and societies of Christians the odious shackles of an ecclesiastical tribunal," no one sounded louder the notes of alarm, or more earnestly and ably opposed the attempt. A sermon which he preached upon the subject j passed through two editions. AARON BANCROFT. 175 hour arrived for him to select his profession, with a respect for learning Avhich belongs to the yeomanry of no other country, but which is almost universal in this, at his own solicitation, he was " released from the fur- row, and sent out at no small personal sacrifice to be fitted for the husbandry of the Church, or the honora- ble toils of the State." Having been prepared for college at the grammar school, and, during its temporary suspension, under the instruction of the clergyman in his native town, he entered at Cambridge, and was graduated in 1778. He was of the class of which that eminent jurist, Nathan Dane, and the historian of Massachusetts, Judge Minot, were distinguished members. He sur- vived all the companions of his early studies but two, of whom one remains Avith us to this day, to call to mind the forms full of young life, that were around him when he began his career, and to witness the unsparing havoc which death has made among them. Let it be remembered, however, that only a very imperfect education could then be obtained at the best institution in New England. It was at the commencement of the revolutionary contest. The peaceful shades of Cambridge were disturbed by the din of war. The halls of the college were converted into barracks for soldiers, and the midnight study was exchanged for the watch of the armed sentinel. The exercises of the pupils were for long periods interrupt- ed, and their education was consequently very incom- plete. You may be surprised to learn this when you call to mind Dr. B.'s general good scholarship. His information on most subjects was exact. His know- ledge of history, especially that of our own country 176 AARON BANCROFT. was extensive, and in his chosen profession he was unrivalled. He was at one period familiar with the classics, retained an acquaintance with them to an advanced period of his life, and readily quoted his favorite authors. He is represented by his contem- poraries to have been, while at college, regular and studious in his habits — and to have done all in his power to obviate the disadvantages with which his collegiate course was attended. Still, he placed the standard of excellence so high that he ever spoke of his early education as very imperfect and subjecting him through life to great inconvenience. Though he had nothing with which to reproach himself, his feeling on this subject was scarcely less strong than that expressed by Waher Scott in his biography, when he says, " It is with the deepest regret that I recollect in manhood the opportunities of learning which I neglected in my youth. Through every part of my literary career I have felt pinched and cramped by my own ignorance, and I would, at this moment, give half the reputation I have had the good fortune to acquire, if, by so doing, I could rest the remaining part on the foundation of learning and science." Let the youthful student beware how he neglects his golden opportunities. If he has not sown in spring, and watched and tilled through summer's suns, let him not expect to reap in autumn. After having graduated. Dr. Bancroft was engaged for a short period in teaching the public school in Cambridge. He pursued a short course in theology with the Rev. Rlr. Haven, the clergyman of his native town, and was licensed to preach in the autumn of the year 1779 ; and early in the next spring, against the AAKON BANCROFT. 177 advice of his clerical friends, he went on a mission of three years into Nova Scotia. This he ever regarded as an important era in his life. It gave a hue and coloring to his whole future character and course. The Province, at this period, was the scene of the wildest religious extravagance. In the unsettled state of the country, with few advantages for education, and no established ministry, the flames of fanaticism were sweeping over it ; ignorance sat in the chair of in- struction ; and every form of excess grew without rebuke, and was excited and encouraged without re- straint. Into the midst of these evils — the hoarse voices of bigotry groaning and screeching around him — he was thrown, alone, inexperienced, without advisers, without books. It was a scene in which he was compelled to be vigilant, and to act with vigor and decision ; and he had nothing but the resources of his own mind with which to settle the doubts and answer the intjuiries of the anxious, to check the excesses of the extravagant, and to kindle anew the smothered flames of sincere and manly devotion. And he always regarded it as a school of religious wisdom. It brought out the strength and energy of his character. It gave him that quickness of appre- hension, that promptness of decision, that firmness of purpose, that untiring perseverance, for which he was afterwards distinguished. And, may we not add — it gave him that early attachment to rational religion, and that unconquerable aversion to mysticism, intoler- ance, and bigotry, of which he afforded frequent man- ifestations, and which continued to the last. On his return, in 1783, he was invited to supply the pulpit of the church in this town, then vacant in con- 178 AARON BANCROFT. sequence of the sickness of the pastor — the Rev Mr. Maccarty. The impression which he made was deci- ded : for, the next year, the pastor being removed by death, he was again invited to preach ; the impression deepened, a large body of intelhgent and devoted friends gathered around him, attached no less by his clear and sound views of Christian truth and duty, than by his frank and amiable manners ; and event- ually, after several ineffectual attempts to procure his settlement over the town, a second parish was formed, and on the first of February, 1786, he was ordained its pastor. And now a field of duty opened before him, in some respects, new, and in all respects, demand- ing the utmost prudence, discretion, firmness, self- possession, and devotedness. A new era had arrived in the history of our churches in the interior of New England. A portion of the Christian community had retired from the common body, and built their altar on the other side of Jordan. A new assembly was gath- ered to worship God in accordance with their views of faith and duty. A church was to be formed, and articles to be framed, and principles 'to be recognized by which it should be governed, and the great ordi- nances of religion administered. It was precisely the occasion which a generous mind, excited by an un- quenchable thirst for religious liberty, would have craved. It presented it the rare opportunity of em- bodying its own best thoughts in the constitution of the new association. And with what a spirit of en- lightened liberality, with what a sacred regard to the genius of Christianity, to the rights of conscience, this was done, the records of this church will show to all coming time. Ponder this subject for a moment. AARON BANCROFT. 179 Recollect, the views of the society at the period of its formation were decided. They were Arminian. They were the views of Locke, and Whitby, and Grotius — men whose learning gave authority to any opinions -which they might adopt. In laying the foundations of a new society, it Avould have been but natural for its members, — it would have been but in accordance with the common practice, to have em- bodied these views in the bond of their union, and have made the profession of them, the condition of admission to Christian privileges. They might have set them forth in articles, and have excluded all from the communion and fellowship of the church, who could not subscribe them. But he, whose master mind may be traced in all the earlier transactions of the society, would sooner have been burned at the stake than have infringed a hair's breadth the rights of conscience, and have laid a burthen on his children which they could not bear. He was familiar with ecclesiastical history. He had seen the truth sunk at one period in the dark- ness of midnight, gradually rising, like the sun, above surrounding mists, and growing brighter and brighter. Since the Reformation and the revival of letters, he had seen each generation advancing beyond the preced- ing in Christian knowledge, outgrowing its creeds, and arriving at more clear and enlarged views of truth and duty. He had seen the church agitated and rent ; its peace and harmony destroyed by the endless conflict growing out of the written, established opinions and the real opinions of its members. He believed it im- possible for one generation to prescribe opinions for another, and looked upon all creeds and confessions of faith, wherever and by whomsoever imposed, as obsta- 180 AARON BANCROFT. cles to the soul's freedom, as a snare to the conscience, — signed they may be, for substance of doctrine, and professed when only half believed, yet leading to the Avorst sort of slavery ^ or to the worst sort of prevarica- tion. He believed them inconsistent with the spirit of Protestantism ; for, this he regarded as a declaration of religious liberty. He adopted, in his heart, the great maxim that the Bible, and the Bible alone, is the creed of Protestants ; and, rejecting all others, this he wrote to be the guide of this Christian association : — " We do hereby profess our firm belief of the Holy Scriptures, contained in the Old and New Testa- ments, and take them as our sole and sufficient rule of faith and practice." Few, and comprehensive words ! Penned when and where they were, — at a time and in a community in which creeds and confessions were held in peculiar sanctity, — they indicate a mind sin- gularly jealous of the rights of conscience. Few and simple words ! There let them stand at the head of the doings of his church where he placed them, and let the enlightened principles w^hich they embody ever regulate its proceedings. In the defence of the principles which he thus assert- ed, Dr. Bancroft was ever ready to engage with the zeal, and ardor, and perseverance becoming a great and good cause. He was their champion in all suita- ble places. In associations, in conventions, in ecclesi- astical councils his voice was raised in their behalf, and he uttered his indignant rebuke at any attempt to violate them. All, which he did in this cause cannot now be known ; many records of his labors passed away with the occasions which called them forth. But, of the thirty-six separate publications which he AARON BANCROFT. 181 left behind him, several are an express vindication of religious liberty, and all breathe a free, healthful air, which could not have been derived from one whose love of religious freedom was not consistent, ardent, and sincere. In his two principal woriis, — those on which his permanent reputation will rest, — the Life of Washington, published in 1807, and the volume of Controversial Sermons, published in 1822, are seen the mind and the spirit of the man. In selecting Washing- ton as the subject of his interesting and instructive bi- ography, he seems to have been attracted by a sympa- thy with the grandeur of his character and his generous sacrifices in the cause of freedom. No one could have so pamted the struggles of the chieftain, or have pen- ned the concluding words of that life, whose heart did not throb with a kindred emotion. " Uniting the tal- ents of the soldier (these are the words) with the quali- fications of the statesman, and pursuing, unmoved by difficulties, the noblest end by the purest means, he had the supreme satisfaction of beholding the complete success of his great mihtary and civil services, in the independence and happiness of his country." The volume of sermons contains a full exposition and vindication of the great principles and doctrines of Christianity as he interpreted it. The volume was published at the request of his parishioners, and was warmly welcomed by the religious community, es- pecially that portion which most sympathized in their views with the venerated author. It was highly com- mended in the leading reviews of the day, and was instrumental in settling many anxious inquirers on the firm basis of religious truth. The encomium of the elder President Adams, in a letter to the author, al- ls 182 AARON BANCROFT. though famihar to many, is too strong and characteristic not to be repeated. " I thank you," he says, " for your kind letter of the 30th December, and above all, for the gift of a precious volume. It is a chain of diamonds set in links of gold. I have never read nor heard read a volume of sermons better calculated and adapted to the age and country in which it was written. I have conversed freely with most of the sects in America, and have not been inattentive to the writings and reasonings of all denominations of Christians and phi- losophers ; but after all, I declare to you, that your twenty-nine sermons have expressed the result of all my reasoning, experience, and reflection, in a man- ner more satisfactory to me, than I could have done in the best days of my strength." The last publication of Dr. Bancroft, preached three years ago, on the termination of fifty years of his ministry, is consonant with all the rest. It was delivered at a period, and on an occasion, when nothing but the soberness of truth had interest for the mind. It showed an intel- lect still strong amid the infirmities of the body ; that weight of years had not abated his interest in the wel- fare of the community, nor the snows of eighty win- ters quenched the flames of religious freedom which were early enkindled in his bosom. From what has been said, let it not be inferred that he loved strife, or that his preaching was ordinarily of a polemic character. There is no ground for such an inference. He was accustomed to take a wide range, in the choice of his subjects, and was unusually happy in bringing out the meaning of the difficult passages, of scripture, and in giving lessons of sound and prac- tical duty. He was fervent, strikingly appropriate, AARON BANCROFT. 183 and often eloquent in prayer ; and none could habit- ually sit under his ministry, and carry out his suggest- ions into the life, without acknowledging the general soundness of the preacher, and finding themselves in the path of religious wisdom and improvement. The circumstances of which we have spoken, in which Dr. B. was placed in the beginning, and through which, from time to time, he passed, did something perhaps to form, certainly afforded occasion for the display, of a noble character, — one which it is impos- sible to regard but with gratitude and affection. At first his position was peculiar. He had assumed new principles, and adopted opinions differing, in some particulars, from the received opinions of the day ; and, as it is the world's wont, he was the mark of much bitterness, and the storm of prejudice gathered around him. His ministerial brethren regarded him with coldness and suspicion. He was denied minis- terial fellowship and the Christian name. He was talk- ed against, preached against, denounced, and shunned ; and for seven long years pursued his almost solitary way — performing all the duties of his office, warding ofT calumny, removing misrepresentation, explaining, defending, — subjected, in a word, to every species of petty provocation ; and yet, through this trial, one of the severest to which the human character can be subjected, he passed unscathed. Alike superior to frowns and flatteries, unalarmed by the fears of the timid, unseduced by the confidence of the presump- tuous, he calmly and serenely followed his appointed path. And it was a source of grateful reflection to him to the last, to which he often referred, that in the darkest period of his life, when unkind and bitter 184 AARON BANCROFT. things were said, when the storm of cahimny poured down upon him, no allegations of a moral nature were ever laid to his charge. A suspicion of re- proach never sullied the purity of his character. And this was not because he maintained a cold reserve and practised habitual concealment. No man was ever more frank and open than he. There was a truthful- ness and consistency about him which immediately impressed the mind. His tongue was the index of his heart. There were no subterfuges — no double dealr ings in him. If, therefore, no charges were ever made against his character, it is because there was no ground for charges ; there was nothing in him which he wished to conceal. Accordingly, he was ever regarded a fair and manly opponent, who scorned to resort to petty artifice and seize on unworthy meas- ures. While he was true to the friends and the cause which he espoused, he was unalterably fixed in his opposition to the cause which he did not approve. Such sincerity, integrity, and uprightness could not fail to produce their effects. His traducers were silenced ; his opposers were won ; and afterwards, in seasons of their perplexity and trial, he became their confidential adviser and friend. And, at the period of his death, it may be doubted whether the person lived, who thought of him unkindly, or with any feelings but those of profound respect. This is mentioned as a noble triumph of the power of moral goodness — most honorable to him, and full of encouragement to all. For, it may be surprising to many to learn that those traits which disarmed prejudice, and saved him from reproach, were not the gift of nature, but of education ; that he was constitutionally ardent in his AARON BANCROFT. 185 temperament, and strong in his passions ; but by self- discipline, he had obtained such entire self-govern- ment, that he was never taken off his guard, ^ could be provoked to commit no indiscretions, and thus give occasion of offence. Who, after this, shall plead the strength of his passions, and the infelicity of his cir- cumstances in extenuation of his follies ? But Dr. B. endured other trials and still harder to bear. It has been the lot of some of the choicest of earth's mould to suffer from poverty and disappoint- ment and straitened circumstances. It was so with him. Soon after his settlement he was married, and one and another was added to his household ; and in a few years a numerous family was gathered around him. And then his income was small, and his expen- ses were large, — and sickness entered his dwelling and he was so harassed and oppressed, that, he assures us, often he "could with difficulty summon sufficient resolution to prosecute his professional labors." In the last of his printed discourses, he has told the story of his privations and generous sacrifices during the gloomy period of his early connection with his society ; how he relinquished a portion of his salary when it was scarcely sufficient to procure the necessaries of life, and vsdth what infinite difficulty he collected the pittance that remained. But he has not told us that during all this period, when he had but a scanty board at home, he supported an aged mother in comfort, always reserved something for works of charity, and sent, from lime to time, portions of such as he had to those who were more needy than himself. No per- sonal privation could contract his large and generous heart, and there was not a pulse that did not beat 16 * 18a AARON BANCROFT. with benevolent emotions. He has related the humil- iations and straits to which he was driven; — his struggles to maintain a decent hospitality. But he has not spoken of his domestic bereavements, of the early separation of his children, of his hopes in their expected aid, of their death under circumstances, strange, heart-rending, and full of woe. Nor has he told us of the entire resignation — the fortitude — the cheerfulness — the calm trust in God, with which all this was borne; that while the paternal heart was wrung with anxiety, disappointment, and grief, he maintained his wonted serenity, asking no remission of his labors, locking his sufferings within his own breast, checking no one's joy by the expression of his sorrow. Dr. Bancroft continued in the active discharge of the duties of his profession — occasionally preaching — until the close of the year 1839. He was a few times permitted afterwards to attend public wor- ship, and doubtless flattered himself that with the warm sun and healthful breezes of spring he should again revive. But spring came, and then came with it that domestic affliction which is yet fresh in the hearts of many, and which Avas felt as a public calam- ity. From the period of Mrs. Bancroft's death he was seen no more among us. The companion of many years of vicissitude was removed. The strong- est tie which bound him to life was severed. He relinquished the expectation of recovery, had no wish to survive, and went to his room to linger and to die. The prayer which our venerable father so often repeated, that he might not survive the possession of his intellectual powers, was granted. His mind was AARON BANCROFT. 187 clear, and his senses were entire to the last moment. Death and suffering were shorn of their terrors. One seemed not to have entered a sick and dying room. Those tones of welcome ; those inquiries after the health and welfare of the absent ; those little courte- sies and attentions to the wants of his visitors, con- tinued after the power of utterance was denied him — are not usual with the weak and dying. And, during the whole period, amid many seasons of agony, it is not known that a complaint escaped him. A smile continued to play upon his countenance and he cheer- fully acquiesced in his suffering. Per ardua ad ASTRA — By a thorny path we mount to the Stars, — Bearing- the cross, we gain the crown ; — this sentiment he quoted on one of the last interviews that were had with him, and on this he acted throughout. And this long period of patient resignation will ever be bright and clear in the recollection of his surviving friends. But there were occasions of more solemn interest. There are incidents and conversations living in their memory, treasured among the best legacies which he has left them. One of these a daughter has recorded. " To give you an idea of the solemn scene," she says, " and the reverence and awe which pervaded the mind, as we listened to the deep tones of his voice, would be impossible. You must remember the sol- emn hour of the night, think of the chamber as lighted by a solitary dim lamp, see the hoary head laid on the pillow almost in the repose of death ; and, with the feelings of children, watch the fleeting breath of an apparently dying parent. After lying in a sleep of some hours, he suddenly roused, and calling us to his bedside, spoke of the conviction he felt, that the 188 AARON BANCROFT. time was rapidly approaching when he must leave us. * I do not pretend,' said he, ' to look forward to that solemn moment without emotion. We cannot bid adieu to the scenes and objects we have loved on earth without pain ; and the thought, that we are to appear before the judgment seat of God and account for the deeds done in the body, renders the contem- plation of that event awful in the extreme. But I trust in the mercy of God, who has promised never to forsake those who put their trust in him. I have studied the Bible to obtain a knowlege of his char- acter, and what he reveals, through Jesus our Saviour, of the destiny of man. I think I may, without vanity, say, I have endeavored to make the precepts of the gospel the rule of my life and conversation ; and my aim has been to perform the duties assigned me by my Heavenly Father, to the best of my ability. I have not the presumption to claim the merit of sinless obedience ; but this I do say, my intentions have ever been to conform as far as in my power, to the bright example set before us by our blessed Saviour. . . Death is the portal through which all must pass to reach their home in the Heavens ; and the Gospel alone sheds light on its passage. Happy are they who shall sleep in Jesus.' " At a period still later, also, deep into night, when, as was not unfrequent, he was denied the refreshing balm of sleep — at one of those moments, when the soul, awed by the pervading stillness, feels itself alone with God, he asked the daughter who attended him to read to him a favorite hymn. It contains the reflections appropriate to an old man. He listened as if the spirit of the song entered his soul ; and, AARON BANCROFT. 189 when she came to the words expressive of his own peculiar condition, he exclaimed, beautiful, elevated, sublime ; and, with an almost preternatural fervor, repeated them, line by line as they were read — " If piety has marked my steps, And love my actions formed, And purity possessed my heart. And truth my lips adorned ; " If I 've grown old in serving Him, My Father and my God ; ' I need not fear the closing scene, Nor dread the appointed road." Still more recently he expressed his entire acquies- cence in the divine will, — his readiness to go ; that no fear, but a calm and settled joy, attended him as the event approached. In this frame he lived, and in this frame he died. He was released from his sufferings on Monday evening, August 19th, at eleven o'clock. MEMOIR JOSEPH MOTTEY. JOSEPH MOTTEY, The Rev. Joseph Mottey was born at Salem, Mass., May 14th, 1756. His parents were attentive to his religious as well as his literary education, in his early years ; and appear to have added to their other lessons of instruction, that most impressive one — an exemplary life.* * Mr. Mottey's father was a native of the Isle of Jersey, and of French extraction. His name was originally written La Mottais, and changed to Mottey after his settlement in this country, which took place at an early period of life. He was a shipma.ster and owner, and liis son, (the subject of this memoir) at about the age of fifteen, twice sailed with him to the West Indies. The Rev. Mr. M. in a letter to his youngest son, when the latter was about to embark for India, proposes to him the example of his grandfather, as a proof that it is possible to resist the temptations and shun the vices to which seamen are exposed. " I never," says he, " heard him use a profane word, or a word bordering on profanity, on land or sea, at home or abroad, except in a single instance, and that was under great provo- cation. On shore, he regularly attended public worship, and spent the rest of the sabbath in reading to his family and in meditation. At sea, he always spent the sabbath in his cabin in reading and meditation, unless duty called him on deck ; and while in foreign ports he never went on shore on the sab- bath." This quotation is from memory, but the writer feels assured he has retained the sense. He could not neglect the opportunity afforded him of recording this instance of the importance of parental example and a religious education, and of inviting the attention of seamen to the admonition it gives. Possibly the instructions and example of his parents had a greater effect upon the mind of their son on account of their early death. His father died while he was an undergraduate. His mother, who was a pious woman and a native of Salem, died some years before. 17 194 JOSEPH MOTTEY. His preparatory studies in the classics were pur- sued at Dummer Academy ; and he was graduated at Dartmouth college, August 26th, 1778. He was imme- diately employed in Phillips Academy, Andover, then recently opened ; and was the first assistant of its first preceptor, the Rev. Eh'phalet Pearson. He was afterwards employed, either in the same capacity, or as principal, in Dummer Academy. He commenced preaching, as was usual at that time, soon after he was graduated ; and was heard as a candidate in Marble- head, Beverly, Linebrook parish in Rowley, and New- bury — receiving invitations to settle in the two last- named places, which he declined. He supplied the pulpit for three years at Lynnfield, in the mean while preventing the people from taking any steps towards his settlement. At length he yielded to their often repeated wishes, and was ordained September 24th, 1783. Here he spent the remainder of his days ; and departed this life July 9th, 1821, having completed the sixty-fifth year of his age, and nearly completed the thirty-eighth year of his ministry. Of Mr. Mottey's character in early life, the writer of this sketch has received information which author- izes him to say, that he was a child of promise, a youth of excessive modesty and sensibility, of great purity, and inflexible integrity ; and that he passed through his literary course at the academy and col- lege with the reputation of talents, industry, and pro- priety of conduct. Early impressions of the impor- tance of religion appear to have been the result of the attention which his parents paid to his religious edu- cation ; and the influence of these early impressions appears to have increased during his life. It seems. JOSEPH MOTTEY. 195 however, that his mind was more deeply impressed than it ever had been before, while he was an under- graduate in college, at a time of general attention to rehgion among the students. It was at this time that his choice was fixed upon the sacred profession. But it pleased God, after he entered upon the work of the ministry, to grant further strength, form, and consis- tency to his religious character, and to make him eminently a son of consolation to others, by placing him, for a season, in the school of affliction. For several years, in common with many others who were settled in the ministry at the same period, he suffered from the insufficiency of his salary to supply the wants of an increasing family. But this was an affliction scarcely to be named in connection with those which succeeded. With a single exception, he followed that family, one after another, to the grave. His wife, a very amiable woman, died at the age of thirty-two, within two hours after the birth of the only child which survived him. His second son died in child- hood. His oldest son, after a life of uninterrupted suffering, died at the age of fifteen. His youngest son, a very promising youth, was educated with a view to a sea -faring and mercantile life, made one very successful voyage to India, and died in the arms of his father, within a few hours after landing in Salem, at the age of eighteen. His oldest daughter was married, and died at the age of twenty, leaving an only child, which he adopted and which died in childhood. One daughter was left to console his declining years, who became not less endeared to him by her discreet and dutiful conduct, than she was, from the beginning, by the affecting circumstances 196 JOSEPH MOTTEY. which attended her birth. It is not strange that such discipline, in the school of adversity, operating upon a mind endued with strong powers and an acute sen- sibility, should have led to the formation of some peculiar habits and traits of character. It is at least certain that Mr, Mottey himself, with that constant sense of dependence upon God which distinguishes the true Christian, always traced every thing, which seemed to others an excellence in him, to its source, in his early privileges and subsequent moral discipline. Having now placed before the reader the principal events in the Rev. Mr. Mottey's life, we shall next attempt a delineation of his character. Mr. Mottey was endowed Avith an active and pow- erful mind, possibly not of the highest order of human intellect, (for we would not Avillingly be led astray by our partialities,) but certainly nearly approaching to it. His mind, improved by a very competent early education, was still more matured and stored by his subsequent studies in private, which were continued with very little abatement of ardor or diligence to the close of life. Consequently there were but very few subjects, especially among those connected with his profession, upon which he was not well informed ; the knowledge which he had was well arranged in his mind for practical use ; and his memory was ready as well as retentive. He was not only a dili- gent student, but compared with most men in his station, a recluse. His personal acquaintance, the small circle of his parish excepted, was more with book's than with men. Hence, in his opinions, it was impossible to trace the influence of any one who has lived within the present age. But neither did he JOSEPH MOTTEY. 197 appear to have favorite authors, the inspired writerg excepted, though he read much. He was accustomed to reflect much both upon what he read and what he saw, especially upon what he read in the Bible, and what he saw of the works and providences of God, the operations of the natural world, and the actions of men. Hence his views of all subjects, and his modes of illustrating the subjects he handled, were more strictly his own than it is common to meet with. It will immediately be conjectured, that a man of such intellectual powers and attainments must have been an interesting and instructive companion. Among his own people there was never but one opinion of his decided superiority of talents and attainments ; . and he seldom failed to leave the impression upon the strangers with whom he occasionally met, that he was a man of an original and powerful mind. To strangers of education, but accustomed only to the common hackneyed courses of literature and the- ology, his conversation, indicative of so much bold, active, and correct thinking, was a feast. Their ex- pression of wonder frequently was — " Why have we never heard of this man before ? " But it was not so much for his mental as his moral qualities that Mr. Mottey Avas endeared to those who had the happiness of knowing him fully. He was distinguished for his deep sense of obligation to re- duce the precepts of the holy religion which he pro- fessed to uniform practice ; and in fulfilling the obli- gations of a Christian, he appeared to be actuated more by love and less by fear than almost any- one whom we could name. Yet this saying of the Mas- ter whom he served, seemed to be also engraven upon 17* 198 JOSEPH MOTTEY. his soul — " That servant, which knew his Lor(Vs ivill, and prepared not himself, neither did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes.''^ Hence, on the one hand, he was tender, faithful, and actively benevolent in the discharge of Christian duty, in the several relations which he sustained in domestic and social life ; and, on the other, he was remarkably dis- tinguished by his personal purity and comparative freedom from faults. During the whole course of his life, in all the various relations which he sustained, in the domestic and social sphere and in the Church of God, no one great blot or stain was found in him, such as we too often find, and lament to find, in many who finally make high attainments in religion. He was saved from the blush of shame and the excru- ciating sense of flagrant transgression, in the retro- spect of life, which many perhaps as good, possibly better than himself, have sorrowfully experienced. His faults, few and slight, were of that class which arises from constitutional excess of sensibility, in- creased probably by his too recluse and sedentary life. He was, for instance, too impatient of contra- diction ; but, on the other hand, he was quick to per- ceive when he had done wrong and anxious to make confession and reparation. It was quite evident to those who were personally acquainted with him, that his exemplary practical goodness proceeded from re- ligious principle, a deep sense of rehgious obligation, and a real desire to promote the welfare of men — that it was not from any constraint, but an integral part of his character and habits. As a minister of Christ, Mr. Mottey would un- doubtedly have been more useful, if he had suffered JOSEPH MOTTEY. 199 himself lo be more known, and had held as frequent and extensive ministerial intercourse as is now usual with congregational ministers. He seldom passed the boundaries of his parish ; and exchanged ministerial labors, perhaps, but little more than thirty times in as many years. He saw and lamented his error, when it was, as he thought, and as was probably the fact, too late to correct it ; and he was known solemnly to warn and caution young ministers against following his example in this particular. He was led into his solitary course by his constitutional nervous sensibility and diffidence, aggravated by the domestic afflictions and straitened circumstances of the first years of his ministry. He then persuaded himself that in his par- ticular situation, he could best discharge his duties, in the station which Providence had assigned to him, by confining himself to the limits of his parish ; and having continued in that persuasion, till his habits were firmly fixed, he had not the resolution to break through them, when at length he saw his error, as old age began to advance and his bodily strength and- activity to decline. But it is not hence to be inferred that he was indolent and inactive ; nor that reading, thinking, and conversation, constituted the whole of his employment. He was a pattern of industry. He wrote, at the lowest estimate, more than 2000 ser- mons, probably nearly 3000. He continued the prac- tice of composing new sermons as long as he lived. Even in his last years, he preached a sermon the second or third time less frequently than most minis- ters do who have been settled but a few years. He was so diligent and careful in redeeming the time, that his preparations for the sabbath were usually 200 JOSEPH MOTTEY. made by the middle of the week, he had always sermons on hand which had not been preached, and his sermons were vjell studied and well written. He was also punctual in attending to the usual course of parochial duty. Industry is not to be inferred barely from the extent of the circle in which one is seen to move ; nor is any man to be accused of indolence, because his sphere of action is small, and the duties to which he thinks proper to confine himself such as do not excite much observation. But there was something in Mr. Mottey beside his great labor and diligence in drawing written instruc- tions from the treasures of the Scriptures, to mark the rehgious character of the man. His conversation was one continued sermon. He turned every thing to a moral and religious account ; and illustrated every subject by scriptural references and allusions. God and his revealed word were in all his thoughts. He appeared never to forget that God is omnipresent; and his conduct and conversation were an example of uniform practical regard to the letter and spirit of the 139th psalm. Every day in the year, and every hour in the day, in his own house and abroad, he appeared in this respect, in character, as the Christian minister, as well as in the desk. Religious conversation with him, was not in set discourses, on particular occasions only, though of these he was very capable ; but, while he engaged freely and in a cheerful manner in con- versation, upon all common topics, with all classes, religious thoughts were mingled with every thing, and made his remarks interesting and instructive. In this truly valuable ministerial qualification, he was proba- bly not excelled by any, and equalled but by very JOSEPH MOTTEY. 201 few. Here, it is believed, the important influence of early religious imjiressions and early habits of piety is discoverable. When religion is first in the order of time, it readily incorporates itself with and sanctifies every thing else upon which it is proper for men to think and speak. But if our notions and language upon other subjects are first formed, the case is com- monly too far otherwise, even to the end of life, though we should in lime come to view religion as the one ihrng" needful. Mr. Motley's afflictions had also their share in improving his happy talent for serious and edifying discourse. He was familiarized, almost beyond ex- ample, with the subjects of sickness, death, the resur- rection, and of the judgment to come ; and such was his hope towards God concerning the resurrection, that he Avas much more desirous of the peace and rest of the grave, than afraid of the terrors of disso- lution. Hence, in the sick chamber and on funeral occasions, he spake like one who had full experience of the pain of separation from near friends, who deeply and tenderly sympathized with others in their afflic- tions, and Avho could direct them to the streams of real consolation and hope, because he had himself found whence they issue and where they flow. His services, on such occasions, were at once affecting, consoling, edifying, and acceptable. In regard to doctrines, Mr. Motley, in the first years of his ministry, was much inclined to what is noio termed orthodox//. Afterwards, and until the end of life, there was a general coincidence in his opinions with what is now termed liberal Christianity. The change in his opinions was gradual, and the 202 JOSEPH MOTTEY. result of much study and reflection ; and his latter sentiments were embraced with deep conviction of their truth and importance. The principal change in his opinions took place at that period of life, in which the mind generally attains its full maturity and strength — when he was between thirty and forty years of age ; at a period ' also, when his greatest afflictions were fresh upon him, and with but very little interchange of thought with any living character. Thus, under circumstances Avhich some may suppose would have almost infallibly made a man Orthodox, with the Avord of God for his guide, he saw reasons for adopting those views which some call heresy ; and he found in them such supports and consolations in trials and afflictions, as he had not found in the views which he had before entertained. " I then found," said he, in his own impressive manner, " that God is, in the strictest sense, the impartial parent of his human offspring. Impartiality is one of the brightest gems in the celestial crown. Rob the Di- vinity of that, and you tarnish the Divine glory, and render Him, who should appear infinitely amiable in the view of his rational creatures, an object of unholy distrust and fear. But grant me equal benevolence in the Deity, and I can submit, and I would do more. What son is he whom the father chasteneth not ? " He considered the opinion of the Orthodox concern- ing original sin or innate hereditary depravity, as the foundation of their whole system. He had read and weighed all which has been written by Edwards and their other standard authors in its defence, and found the doctrine essentially defective in evidence. Hence he was for laying the axe to the root of the tree ; and" JOSEPH MOTTEY. 203 most of all which he said and wrote of a strictly polem- ical complexion, was aimed at the overthrow of this doctrine, or the establishment of those views concern- ing the natural state of man, which are embraced by liberal Christians.* * For Mr. Motley's short method with the Orthodox upon this subject, see the article in the Christian Disciple, published May, 1820. The fol- lowing is a syllabus of his method of treating the subject in detail, as gath- ered from repeated conversations with him : — The principal arguments of the Orthodox in favor of their notion of innate hereditary depravity, with the proper replies, are these ; — 1. All that part of mankind, who are admitted to be moral agents, are more or less sinful and depraved. Answer. The fact is admitted : but it is the very thing to be accounted for. The bare existence of a thing must not be adduced to prove the modus of its origin. 2. Children very early exhibit evidences of depraved dispositions. Ans. 1. Children are very early capable of observation, memory, and imitation: 2. What are reckoned signs of a depraved moral nature in young children are often nothing more than the revolution of human appetites and passions, innocent in themselves, implanted for wise and benevolent ends, necessary even to our present existence, and as lawful in their exercise, as innocent in their nature, while kept within the bounds prescribed by reason and Scripture. The exercise and expression of anger, for instance, in young children, are not always infallible indications of sinfulness, any more than their grief and tears extorted by hunger. Our Saviour was sometimes indignant ; but never sinned. 3. Do children exhibit evidences of depraved dispositions before they are moral agents? If it be said they do, the evidences are demanded ; and a pledge is given that similar proofs of depraved moral propensities in lambs, calves, &c. shall be produced. But if it be conceded that they do not, then the answer to the first argument is good in replication to the sec- ond. Their moral depravity is a part of the very thing that wants a solu- tion. 3. There is more of moral evil than good in the world ; and all mankind, including young children, iinbibe and act out the fonner more easily and greedily than they do the latter. Ans. The alleged fact is denied, and proof of it demanded. But in estimating the sums of moral good and evil in the w^orld, it is desired that the opponent should bear in mind, that, as, on the one hand, much of which has been reckoned moral good, may be nothing but results of amiable and happy constitutional temperament, so, on the other hand, much which has been reckoned moral evil may be but results of a less favored constitutional temperament. None but God can say precisely where the lines should be drawn. 204 JOSEPH MOTTEY. He did not manifest the same lively interest in the recent discussions between Unitarians and Trinitarians. He was a Unitarian ; and clearly perceived that the real Orthodox doctrine of the trinity is positively con- tradicted both by Scripture and reason. But, on the 4. Certain passages of Scripture are adduced in favor of the doctrine. Ans. The Scriptures he admitted to be a good and direct source of proof; and answered the argument by expounding the passages seriatim. One result of Ills expositions was, that nine tenths of the passages adduced are thrown out of the case by his reply to the first argument. The arguments in favor of man's total native destitution of moral pro- pensities and moral character, are the following : — 1. The most careful philosophical examination of the new-born infant does not enable us to discover in it any moral character or moral propensity whatever. 2. The actual moral state of the world and of every individual in it maybe accounted for without the assumption of innate moral depravity ; and much more easily than Adam's transgression can be accounted for upon any as- sumption. 3. Saint and sinner are opposite terms. The former implies holy exer- cises; the latter unholy exercises; both imply thought, reasoning, know- ledge of a rule of duty, experience; neither are applicable to new-born in- fants. The absurdity of calling them saints every one perceives ; use alone has rendered our understandings blind to the absurdity of calling them sin- ners, or saying that they are bor7i so. 4. Our Saviour is imaccountably silent upon this subject, upon the suppo- sition of the truth of the Orthodox doctrine. 5. Many passages of Scripture, some of them records of our Saviour's own words, decidedly favor the ideas of liberal Christians upon this sub- ject. The last step in the process was to answer objections. Having in this way decided the question, he then felt at liberty to urge the numerous and insurmountable objections which he against the Orthodox doctrine, especially its utter irreconcilableness with the acknowledged charac- ter of God. He thought, moreover, that the origin and prevalence of this humbling doctrine, as it is called, may be accounted for, without the sup- position of extraordinary humility either in its inventors or advocates ; but so many and absurd have been the vagaries of the human mind, and so extensive has been the spread of many now universally exploded opinions, that he did not think this of much importance in the discussion. The ques- tion is, Is the doctrine supported by fact and evidence? If it is, let us admit it and its consequejices likewise. But if it is not, let us reject it, and receive a doctrine which has evidence to sustain it. JOSEPH MOTTEY. 205 Other hand, he was not desirous of making converts to Unitarianism in any of the particular forms in which it has been exhibited and defended by polemical wri- ters ; for he thought that all particular systems were encumbered with their difficulties, and that one error was, in a greater or less degree, common to all their defenders — they were wise above that which is writ- ten. As nearly as can be now recollected, he ex- pressed himself upon this subject as follows: "I have long thought it sufficient for myself and my hearers, that Jesus Christ is a complete Saviour, and such an one as God, in his infinite wisdom and mercy, pro- vided. I therefore preach Christ and him crucified, in his public or official character, as the only and all sufficient Saviour. In this character he is plainly revealed, and I seem to understand what is said of him ; but I do not find that it was the design of the Father to reveal him to mankind in any other charac- ter. If you are not content with this account of the matter you must apply to some younger man for infor- mation. However, if I must subscribe to any words but those of Scripture upon this point, it would pro- bably be to something like Watts' in-dwelling scheme. But I attach very little importance to my views of the metaphysical character of Christ, if I have any which are definite. The thing is to receive Christ as God sent him, as his ambassador and our Saviour. There is not the least reason to suppose, that he believed in the Orthodox notion of the distinct personality of the spirit. So far as the recent publications of the Unitarians appeared to him adapted to overturn established errors, to banish the unscriptual forms of expression 18 206 JOSEPH MOTTEY. which Trinitarians have introduced, to strip our com- mon Christianity of sectarian appendages, to diminish the reverence paid to creeds in words, which man's wisdom teacheth, and the temptation to subscribe them without understanding or beheving them, and to promote real charity, so far he rejoiced in their labors and wished them success. We waive entering into a detail of his views of other controverted subjects. It may be sufficient to say, that he firmly, consistently, and zealously main- tained the two great principles of Protestantism and liberal Christianity, the sufficiency of the Scriptures as the rule of faith and practice, and the impropriety and inexpediency of making terms of Christian or ministerial communion and intercourse other than those which Christ has made terms of salvation. In his preaching, as well as in his conversation, Mr. Mottey dwelt much upon the Divine character and attributes. He maintained, that just apprehen- sions of God must lie at the foundation of correct views of religion ; and that any doctrine whatever, which is contrary to what Scripture and reason teach us of the attributes and character of God, is demon- strably false. The omnipresence, universal and par- ticular providence, and impartial parental goodness of God, were themes upon which he delighted to expatiate ; and to prepare and persuade his hearers to love God and confide in him, was the leading end of his instructions. His preaching also exhibited a deep sense of the importance of the mediation of the Saviour. This was more particularly obvious in his addresses at the Lord's table. Here his emotions were frequently so great as to impede his utterance. JOSEPH MOTTEY. 207 and he would pause to recover himself. His preach- ing corresponded with his practice in recommending and enforcing practical religion — that practical reli- gion which is not only correct as to outward acts, but which also proceeds from such inward motives as God, in his revealed word, approves. Hence it was often his practice, in his discourses, to take the truth of Christianity and his hearers' knowledge of it for granted, and labor only to persuade them to do their duty and to be faithful to their own convictions. He took pains to instruct his people in what he believed to be pure and undefiled Christianity ; but he was not solicitous to make them what some would call dis- criminating; hearers. He thought it much more im- portant to make his people morally better, according to the measure of knowledge which they might read- ily gain only by reading their Bibles, than to fill their minds with all mysteries and all knoivledg-e, which, without charity.) profit nothing. If he erred in this particular, it was not in what he did, but in what he left undone. Whatever he believed and thought profitable to his hearers, he preached boldly and without reserve ; but in a mild and affectionate manner. He had no fears of giving offence by departing from the unscriptural cant words and phrases which, with many hearers, put the stamp of evangelical upon a discourse. He openly told people what words and phrases were to be found in Scripture and what were not ; and freely introduced into his discourses the names of sects and parties and the technical terms of their respective po- lemical writers, whenever the practice would prevent 208 JOSEPH MOTTEY. a circumlocution ; and yet he is not known to have ever given offence by this directness and openness of speech. It was seldom, however, that the character of his discourses admitted of the introduction of the names and terms last mentioned. The succession of ideas in his mind was extremely rapid, his style clear, copious without redundancies, and usually forcible ; but his delivery in the pulpit was not equal to his style of writing. He did not appear to have adequate views of the importance of oratory in increasing the effect of Christian truth. In conversation, however, allusion and embellishment appeared to arise sponta- neously in his mind ; there was not the least hesita- tion or repetition, and he was truly eloquent both in style and manner. It now only remains to say a few words concerning the closing scene of his life. His sun set unexpec- tedly. It had lost something of its meridian splen- dor ; but it descended with a mild and tranquil lustre. Except slight failures of memory, there was no perceptible diminution of his mental powers till the day of his death ; and some of the latest productions of his pen were among his best. On Sunday, July 1st, he preached, in the morning, from Phil. ii. 5. " Let this miiid be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus,^^ and afterwards administered the ordinance of the Supper. In the afternoon he preached from Matt, xiv. 27. " It is I, be not afraid.'''' In this discourse he pursued the object, which ever seemed near his heart, of persuading his hearers to love God, and to confide in Him and in him whom He has sanctified and sent into the world. The discourse was suggested and , JOSEPH MOTTEY. 209 closed by that almost inimitable hymn by Sir J. E. Smith, copied from the Christian Disciple for March and April, " WTien jiower divi/ie in human formP &c. After the public exercises of the day, he entered into conversation with his family, as he frequently did, upon the subject to which they had been attending in the house of God. " I have been laboring," said he, among other things, " to persuade those who heard me to love God. I love him : I do not fear him " — mean- ing by the last expression that he did not fear to place himself and all which belonged to him at the Divine disposal. He had long seemed like one who was ripe for heaven ; and his words and manner, this day ap- peared, in retrospect, to the partial eyes of his friends, as if he had some* presages that he should soon reach the place. No one had longed more than he to know the secrets which are disclosed in it. No one ever had a firmer faith in the joys which are there in reserve for the righteous. No one had ever contemplated with more complacency the spot where he expected his remains would rest, or with greater willingness that the turf should be raised, when his appointed time upon earth should be accomplished. No one probably had ever felt more cheerfulness at the thought of being ushered into the presence of Him in whom he had confided. During the former part of the week he continued in his usual state of health, and attended to his parochial duties. On Thursday morning he became ill. At first his illness was not considered alarming and excited no particular attention ; but he observed to a near friend and neighbor that, " if it 18-* 210 JOSEPH MOTTEY. were the will of God, he could wish this might prove to be his last sickness." On Saturday evening his disorder became worse, and he consented to see a physician. Soon after he became so distressed and weakened as to be almost incapable of speaking ; but he had deferred nothing of importance to others till such an hour as this. It had always been his wish that, if he should enjoy the exercise of thought and reason, in his last hours, he might be suffered to pass them in as retired and silent a manner as possible. He now gave a few directions, which evidently im- plied that he was satisfied his hour had come ; and waited with perfect composure and without the dis- tortion of a feature, for the last moment, as if waiting the arrival of a friend. He expired on Monday, the 9th of July, the fifth day from the commencement of his illness. • MEMOIR JOHN ALLYN JOHN ALLYN. The Rev. John Allyn, D. D., was born at Barns- table, Mass., on the 21st of March, 1767. He pur- sued the preparatory studies for admission to college under the care of the Rev. Mr Hilliard, who was then minister of Barnstable, but afterwards the colleague and successor of the venerable Dr. Appleton of Cam- bridge. He entered Harvard University in 1781, and took the usual degrees of A. B. in 1785 and of A. M. in 1788. Not long before he was graduated, he was seized with a violent and dangerous illness, in conse- quence of which he was unable to appear in the part assigned to him at the Commencement. Though but in his eighteenth year when he left college, yet during his whole academic course he was distinguished by persevering industry, and by a development of talent which gave him a very high rank among the members of his class. He returned to Barnstable, where he was for some time engaged in the business of instruc- tion. Having determined to devote himself to the work of the Christian ministry, he studied theology under the direction of the Rev. Dr. Samuel West of Dartmouth, now New Bedford, — a man distinguish- 214 JOHN ALLYN. ed for his Scriptural learning and metaphysical pow- ers, as well as for eccentricities, of which some anec- dotes are still current in our community. In September, 1788, the subject of this notice received an invitation from the church and society in Duxbury to settle with them in the ministry. On the 12th of the following October he signified his accep- tance of the invitation. He was ordained on the 3d of December, 1788. The sermon was preached by the Rev. Samuel West of New Bedford, from 2 Tim- othy, ii. 15 ; the charge was given by the Rev. Dr. Hitchcock of Pembroke ; and the right hand of fellow- ship presented by the Rev. David Barnes of Scituate. These performances were printed.* The ministry of Dr. Allyn in Duxbury was long, and for the most part, happy. He discharged his duties with uniform fidelity and ability. He was the personal friend as well as the spiritual guide of his people, — heartily devoted to their temporal and eter- nal welfare, judicious but fearless in rebuking sin, Avise and faithful in the administration of the interests of religion. The purpose which lay nearest to his heart was, to build up the cause of righteousness and of practical truth. He was the benefactor of the poor, the comforter of the distressed, the counsellor of all ; and the affectionate respect of those, for whom he la- bored, rewarded for many years his zealous and un- wearied services. His professional reputation was continually increas- * It is observable that in the record of the ordination the clergy of the coun- cil are called bishops. Thus it is said, " Bishop Hitchcock gave the charge, and Bishop Barnes the right hand of fellow^ship." I knov^r not whether this was a conunon style in such records at that time, or a peculiarity of this case. JOHN ALLYN. 215 ing, till he stood among the first clergymen in the Commonwealth. His opinions were valued and his aid sought in those ways which implied that his judg- ment was regarded with respectful confidence. He was alone in the ministry of his church at Duxbury till June 7, 1826, when the Rev. Benjamin Kent was settled as associate pastor. After that time, Dr. Allyn seldom engaged in any public services, as his strength and spirits were constantly declining. He died on Friday, July 19th, 1833. It will be conceded by all who knew Dr. Allyn, that in the general cast of his mind there was much striking originality. He was seldom content to think, or to express his thoughts, like ordinary men ; and when he did utter a truth in itself commonplace and obvious, he often placed it in such an attitude, or ex- hibited it in such relations, as to give it all the interest of novelty. This disposition to avoid the beaten track of thought was sometimes indulged to an excess, which rendered his expressions liable to misconstruction by those who were unacquainted with his intellectual habits. He certainly had none of that dread of giving offence by contradiction, or by peculiarity of sentiment, which sometimes degenerates into the timid and unmanly pliancy so expressively designated by the assentatio of the ancient Romans. A man, who unites with such a disposition an incautious frankness of conversation, is quite likely to be misunderstood. His remarks may easily be taken out of the connection and circumstances in which they were uttered, and may be represented in such a bald manner as to give them a strange and objectionable aspect. This sometimes happened to Dr. Allyn. But those who were familiar with the char- 216 JOHN ALLYN. acter of his thoughts, and saw the application and bearing of his maxims or his general observations, were struck at once with their far-reaching Avisdom and their felicitous novelty. The same turn of mind which ren- dered him impatient of every thing obvious or trite in conversation, enabled him frequently to surprise and delight those who heard him by eliciting rich instruc- tion from the most ordinary object or passage among the cares and employments of social life, and by con- necting with topics apparently the most barren or unworthy of notice, maxims and truths that were not soon forgotten. He often laid open a valuable mine, where others saw only the stones of the field or the common soil of earth. Dr. AUyn had a rich, but peculiar imagination. It was by no means poetical, but might be designated as the playful and homely imagination of strong common sense, throwing around every subject the most apt and pertinent illustrations, placing his views in a strong light by familiar and amusing comparisons, and suppos- ing cases to exhibit in a most forcible and interesting manner the application of principles. His peculiar excellence did not lie in sustained and continuous reasoning, which indeed he would occasionally allow himself unwarrantably to undervalue, — but rather in striking out single views distinguished by their fresh- ness, and by their tendency to kindle and stir up the minds of others. He had but little of that patience of investigation, which goes through a long process to arrive at an ordinary result. He loved rather to throw out his thoughts in a desultory and starthng manner, wandering delightfully from one topic to another, sometimes by casual associations, and sometimes by JOHN ALLYN. 217 resemblances and relations, which, however apparently strange at first, were perceived to be just and fine when developed by the touch of his genius. He had a happy facility of blending strokes of quaint or rich humor with the most important truths, in such a man- ner as to produce a racy mixture of valuable instruc- tion and animating amusement. These qualities im- parted to his conversation a peculiar zest, which few, who had the privilege of enjoying it, will ever forget. His sayings were not of a kind to pass away with the occasion, but were remembered and applied. They left a deep impression, especially on the minds of the young, to whom he knew well how to adapt his remarks, and whose delight in listening to him was a matter of common observation. Many, who in their youth were familiar with him in his best days, have remarked, that they received more wisdom and more happy excite- ment from him, than from any other person they had ever known. In the practical philosophy of life, which brings its instructions home to men's business and bosoms, he had few equals, and scarcely a superior. Among Dr. Allyn's moral qualities, benevolence was one of the most prominent. He was a liberal giver, almost to a fault. Wherever misery could be relieved, wherever comfort could be bestowed, no man was more dutifully prompt and busy. It was remarkable, that with his slender means, he was able to do so mnch in these labors of kindness. If he in- curred any fault in this respect, it was by neglecting a just regard to the proportion between his bounty and his resources. No personal or party considerations mingled in the exercise of his benevolence. The poor and the aged, the neglected and the forgotten, were 19 218 JOHN ALLYN. the favorite objects of his charitable attentions. The inhabitants of solitary and obscure cottages remember, and will long remember, his readiness to relieve their wants, his judicious endeavors to enable them to help themselves, his kind counsels, his fervent prayers, his faithful and consolatory instructions. If ever -a man lived free from the debasing influences of selfishness. Dr. AUyn did so ; — if ever one was most happy when doing most good, he was that man. The piety of Dr. Allyn was sincere, rational, and con- stant connecting itself intimately with his habitual trains of thought, and manifest in all his great and favorite principles. Few men had more of the reality of re- ligious feeling, and less of the trappings which are sometimes mistaken for its essence, or of the regular mechanism by which so many suppose it must neces- sarily be exhibited. If there were those, who some- times thought that he might justly be charged with speaking lightly of sacred subjects, they overlooked the fact that his pleasantry was exercised, not upon serious truths, but upon the appendages or'speculations which men have connected with religion. In addi- tion to this, should be recollected his habit of suppos- ing, perhaps with too much confidence, that he should not be misunderstood. His persuasions with respect to the moral government of God, the necessity and the solemn truths of divine revelation, the awfulresponsible- ness growing out of the connection between this life and a future existence, — his reverence for the Scriptures, — and his conviction of the inestimable importance of the Gospel to the good of the individual and of society, — were deep, permanent, and thorough. He thought and conversed much about death and the lOHN ALLYN. 219 spiritual world. His views on these subjects were peculiarly happy and attractive ; and his manner of stating them was sometimes remarkably impressive. He loved to indulge conjectures respecting the nature and employments of the future slate, in which the spirit of a truly Christian philosophy was always vis- ible, and which often were full of rich aud delightful meaning. His sermons were not distinguished by those quali- ties, which constitute the reputation of common-place popularity. They had none of the indiscriminate statements, coarse appeals, and exaggerated represen- tations, by which many minds are easily warmed into admiration at the moment, but from which they take no edifying or salutary impressions. His preaching was adapted to be useful in the most effectual man- ner, by enlightening the mind, and by interesting the affections of the heart in behalf of the great truths that take hold on eternity. He never sought or courted the praise, which is so often won by striking declama- tion, or by random boldness, but believed that men are to be made wise unto salvation by the apphcation of Christian truths to their moral and intellectual nature, in conformity with the laws of the human constitution as estabhshed by God. He deemed it of great impor- tance, that preaching should be quite plain and intel- ligible. This was a favorite topic in his conversation ; and many will remember, that he not unfrequently directed his wit against the poor ambition of learned, beautiful, or profound discourses, at the expense of edification and all the true purposes of pulpit instruc. tion. The theory, which he habitually maintained on this subject, he reduced to practice. 220 JOHN ALLYN. Dr. Allyn was peculiarly happy in giving pertinent and impressive illustrations of difficult passages of Scrip- ture, especially in the religious exercises of the family. The ncAv and striking points of view, in which he set some portion of the Sacred Writings by his compari- sons and applications, will long be remembered by those who heard them. His theological sentiments on all important points were those which are usually desig- nated as belonging to the liberal school. No man, however, was less shackled by the trammels of sect and party. His opinions were his own, and could not be said to coincide with the lines marked out by any denomination, or to be conformed to any human creeds. They were, for the most part, clear, well defined, and fearlessly expressed. But he had a very strong and decided dislike of religious controversy. If his views on this subject were sometimes indiscriminate, or car- ried to an unreasonable extreme, it was because the narrow spirit and the bigoted pertinacity, which so often accompany and follow disputation were peculiarly uncongenial to his largeness of mind. His liberality towards such as differed from the portion of the re- ligious community with whom he was classed, is well remembered by all who were acquainted with his habitual feelings and conduct. As a scholar. Dr. Allyn deservedly stood at a high point of respectability. He had little of the erudition that is merely curious ; nor did he make his mind '' the warehouse of other men's lumber." But his classical reading and his professional learning, while they ranged within no narrow limits, were well chosen and well directed. He had large stores of such know- ledge as is connected with the most interesting and JOHN ALLYN. 221 important topics of inquiry, or with useful applications to the wants and duties of life. In his early years he had been a diligent student, and read with a keen appetite ; at a later period, he cared less for books, and delighted more in the observation of man and of na- ture, and in giving free play to his own thoughts. Of his library, which was valuable and judiciously se- lected, he had made an industrious use. His favorite commentators on Scripture were Grotius, Le Clerc, and Locke, — especially the last, for whose character and writings he entertained the most profound respect. In mental philosophy and ethics, the authors, in whom he most delighted, were Locke and Abraham Tucker. The character of Dr. Allyn has been delineated as he was in his best days, when the peculiar powers of his extraordinary mind were in full action. The latter part of his life was darkened by disease, suffering, and decay. A premature feebleness came upon his system. He was gradually prostrated under the effects of a paralysis, which reduced him to bodily helplessness, and at length brought a cloud over the light of his once clear and powerful intellect, till the last of mortal changes came to his relief. But we willingly forget this period of sorrow, and think of him now only as he was in those better years, when his playful wisdom, his benevolent heart, his enlightened views of religion., and his strong, original habits of thought, were the de- light of every circle in which he moved. The published writings of Dr. Allyn are few. His strong reluctance to commit his productions to the press was rarely overcome. His writings, whether published or in manuscript, though marked with an 19* 222 JOHN ALLYN. abundance of good sense, and sometimes of a high or- der, cannot be said on the whole to do justice to his characteristic powers, or to give an adequate represen- tation of his mind. This is to be accounted for by the fact, that for his best exertions he depended much on the excitement of company, and the animation of social intercourse. It was in the unrestrained flow of con- versation, in the extemporaneous discussion of topics started by famihar questions, or in colhsion with other minds, that his friends witnessed and enjoyed those flashes of fine thought and striking illustration, which appeared more faintly, or vanished, in the solitary labors of the pen. The following is a list of Dr. Allyn's published writings : A Sermon at the Ordination of Alden Bradford, in the East Parish of Pownalborough, Nov. 14th, 1793. A Sermon on the Day of Public Thanksgiving, Nov. 29th, 1798. A Sermon preached at Hanover, Oct. 30th, 1799, entitled " The Flesh and the Spirit." A Sermon delivered at Plymouth, Dec. 22d, 1801, one of the best of the numerous sermons on that occa- sion. A Sermon at the Anniversary Election, May 29th, 1805. This is an excellent discourse, — the best which Dr. Allyn published. A New Year's Sermon delivered at Duxbury, Jan. 1st, 1806. No. 1. of The " Christian Monitor, a Rehgious Periodical Work." This was published in 1806, and constitutes the first half of the first volume of the Chris- JOHN ALLYN. 223 tian Monitor. It consists of" Prayers and Devotional Exercises," and is one of the most valuable manuals of devotion in the language. A Sermon preached at Sandwich, Aug. 24th, 1808, before the Academy in that place. A Charge at the Ordination of Rev. Henry "Ware, Jr., Jan. 1st, 1817. A Charge at the Ordination of Rev. Benjamin Kent, as Associate Pastor with Dr. Allyn in Duxbury, June 7th, 1826. Dr. Allyn likewise published two very characteristic and striking obituary notices, — one of Dr. West of New Bedford, and the other of Dr. Barnes of Scituate. In 1804 Dr. Allyn delivered the Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, and in 1809 the Dudleian Lecture in Harvard College on Supremacy and In- fallibility, from Matt, xxiii. 8 and 9, — neither of which was published. In the summer of 1807 he was employed on a missionary tour in Maine, by the Society for Propa- gating the Gospel among the Indians and others in North America. He was elected a member of the Massachusetts Historical Society in Oct. 1799, — a Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences in Aug. 1808, — and received the degree of D. D. from Har- vard College in 1813. MEMOIR HENRY WARE. HENRY WARE Dr. Ware's was a character of mark. In those walks of life to which my observation has extended, I have known few minds so sagacious ; none more firm, more calmly balanced, more candid, or more just. Its influence has operated extensively. Nearly all the ministers in the country, of one of the principal Chris- tian denominations, have been his pupils. Of the whole number of young men who have been educated in the academical department of the University, in the two centuries and more since its institution, nearly two fifths have been graduated since he was engaged in its service. And if his life cannot be called event- ful, its course has been closely connected with a succession of events of the strongest interest to the friends of science and of Christianity. His official connection with the College has covered the whole of three presidencies, embracing far the most prosperous period the institution has ever known. His election to office here proved the signal for the development of causes, before in silent operation, destined to divide the old Congregational unity of New England, and establish another form of Christian belief. The Di- 228 HENRY WARE. vinity School has grown up to what it is from a course of instruction which he instituted, and for a while con- ducted alone. Henry Ware was born on the 1st day of April, 1764, in the town of Sherburne, in Middlesex, being the ninth of ten children of John and Martha Ware, of that place. His father was a farmer in moderate circumstances. He was a feeble child, and little ex- pectation was entertained of his surviving the critical period of infancy. But, by the help of a peculiarly tender care on his mother's part, his constitution ac- quired strength, and when seventeen years old he was as large and rugged as most boys of the same age. He had small advantages of early instruction in book- knowledge ; but describes himself as having been always a favorite of his master's for his quiet timidity, which made him very obedient and observant of rules, and peaceful among his comrades ; though no boy of the school was a more intense lover of play. Besides these qualifications, he was able, he says, to learn with greater ease and quickness than any of his mates. But it was very little that he had opportunity to learn, the school which he attended being kept only from six to ten weeks in the winter season, and the rest of the year being employed in such work, with his elder brothers, on his father's farm, as could be performed by a boy of his age. He was left fatherless when fifteen years old, with a patrimony amounting to a hundred pounds of the currency of the time. His two oldest brothers, who looked with fond and affectionate hope on the fair David of their race, with a generosity so nobly com- mon, then and now, in our New England farm-houses. HENRY WARE. 229 agreed to combine their endeavors for his advance- ment in the world. In November, 1779, he was placed under the care of the Reverend Elijah Brown, the minister of the parish, to be fitted for college, and made such rapid progress under that gentleman's tuition, that he was admitted to the freshman class, at Cambridge, at the Commencement of 1781. The College was at this time in a state of extreme depression, greater, probably, than has been experi- enced at any other period of its history. The re- sources of the country were exhausted, as Avell as its interest engrossed, by the war of the Revolution, then drawing near to its close. The means of the College were small ; what funds it possessed were chiefly in- vested in the miserably depreciated public securities ; the Commonwealth, to which it had been such a bles- sing, seemed almost to have done caring for it ; and the Corporation were still engaged in a suit, as humble as fruitless, to Governor Hancock their late treasurer, for the possession of their papers, and the settlement of his accounts. The retirement of Presi- dent Langdon, a man richly deserving more reputa- tion and more success, however unsuiled to command the peculiar perplexities of those times, had left a vacancy in the chair, not yet filled. Of the three pro- fessors, the usefulness of the excellent Wigglesworth was impaired by feeble health, the once vigorous mind of Sevvall was under a cloud, and Williams was young in his place ; and the tutors were not men of distin- guished qualifications. With the unavoidable relaxa- tion of discipline under such circumstances, habits of idleness and dissipation had established themselves within the walls, and the standard of scholarship was 20 230 HENRY WARE. dismally low. The ostensible course of study was very limited. A sufficient supply of text-books was not to be had in any of the departments. The pre- scribed exercises were but few, and some of the officers were in the habit of neglecting a considerable portion of them. In the year 1836, when seventy-two years old, Dr. Ware set down a few memoranda of his early life, from which is derived a portion of the particulars that • have now been slated. His class, when graduated, in 1785, consisted of thirty-two persons. Its list exhibits but one or two names, beside his own, of decided emi- nence in after life. He had very little intercourse, he says, except with ten or a dozen, with whom he Avas con- nected in social and literary fraternities, and there was about the same limitation to his acquaintance with the other contemporary classes. That he was a favorite with that portion of his class with which he was acquainted, he had this evidence, that he was chosen president of each of the three associations of which he was a member. So punctilious was his correctness of deportment, that he never once incurred a fine, or any other punishment at the hands of the Faculty, an ex- emption, in those days, of very rare occurrence. At the exhibitions and at commencement, the honors were assigned to him which indicate the first rank in his class, and he also dehvered, by the appointment of his classmates, the Valedictory Oration, which was then in the Latin language. " I can look back upon my College life," says Dr. Ware, in the manuscript already referred to, " with but a limited degree of satisfaction. The honors I received were certainly more than enough to satisfy my most HENRY WARE. 231 extravagant expectation or wishes, and my satisfaction in the recollection of them would be complete, could I be conscious of their having been worthily bestowed. But I do not know whether one has less reason to feel humbled and mortified in receiving an honor which he is conscious of not deserving, than in having a me- rited honor withheld from him. I am amazed that it should be possible for one, with such habits of study and low attainments as mine certainly were, to hold so high a standing as was allowed to me. Nothing will account for it but the shameful fact, that my competi- tors were as deficient in their habits of study and in their attainments as myself." There must, however, have been not a little self-disparagement in this, the result of that genuine humihty which at all periods of hfe distinguished him. It was not possible, that, surrounded by such an apparatus of knowledge, in- complete as it was, a mind like his should not be stimulated to profitable activity ; and it scarcely ever happens that such an intellectual discipline as that of which in after years he showed the fruits, has its begin- ning in mature life. Having finished his course of study as an under- graduate, he took charge of the town school of Cam- bridge. He devoted himself, he says, with great zeal to its laborious duties, and had the satisfaction to know that his services were well received by the child- ren and the parents. He at the same time com- menced his preparation for the ministry, having, from the first period of his studies, designed to consecrate them to the sacred office. There was at that time no system of public education in theology, and, through the infirmities of Dr. Wiggles worth, the chair of Di- 232 HENRY WARE. vinity in the University was virtually vacant. What aid Mr. Ware had in the direction of his professional reading is understood to have been derived from the Rev. Mr. Milliard , then minister of the First Church in Cambridge. On the 1st of April, 1787, his twenty-third birthday, he began to preach, occupying the pulpit of the pastor and instructor of his childhood. His theological at- tainments could not have been great, his studies having been confined within little more than a year and a half, during which time he had been employed as an in- structor seven hours of every day. But his pure, up- right, and devout soul was itself a mine of religious truth and sentiment. His mind had a keen appetite for the knowledge which makes wise unto salvation, and received it with the quick intelligence and the ready welcome of sympathy. He had the great Chris- tian preparation for his studies which is assured in the promise, " If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine." The clearness. Scriptural simplicity, and practical character of his expositions of truth ; the rich personal experience disclosed in his discourses ; their modest, and at the same time winning and fer- vent tone ; the gentle and sincere solemnity, which impressed and subdued all the more for assuming nothing, and inspired confidence in the same degree as it tacitly disclaimed authority ; the native and culti- vated refinement of mind, which not only made any offence against good taste, any coarseness of address, impossible, but which knew how to find for gospel truth the kindest access to the waiting spirit ; the ruling good sense, which conceived no extravagances; the contemplative and tender feeling, which had fath- HENRY WARE. 233 omed the depths of every remonstrance and rebuke that was uttered ; these quahties in the young preach- er, set off with the advantages of an engaging pres- ence, a musical voice, and a natural action, fixed attention and won golden opinions in the congrega- tions to which he ministered, and were a rich earnest of the excellent usefulness of his years of riper service. The town of Hingham presented at this time a favorable specimen of the intelligence and culture of a leading village of Massachnsetts. General Lincoln, whom it is no injustice to any to call its brightest ornament, had just returned to it from his greatly honorable public service, and was the centre of re- spectful regard, and, as much as any other, the source of a generous influence, in a society of refined and intellectual men and women. Dr. Ebenezer Gay, pastor of the First Church of the place, had just been taken to his rest. This ven- erable man, eminent among the liberal clergy of his day, the associate of Mayhew, Chauncy, Shute, and Tucker, had exercised a ministry lengthened out to the unusual term of sixty-nine years of official service, and the ninety-second year of his age. He was taken from a numerous and prosperous congregation, full of reverence for his years, his character and doctrine, trained by him through three generations in the ways of truth and righteousness, accustomed to look to him as having been the bond of union from a time to which the memory of scarcely any living could run back. The pulpit graced by such a man was privileged be- yond the common walks of Christian ministration. The fruitful youth of Mr. Ware was esteemed tohave yielded evidence that he was worthy of such a posi- 20* 234 HENRY WARE. tion ; and he was ordained over the First Church of Hingham, October 24th, 1787. This post of honorable usefuhiess he continued to hold for eighteen years. With what he justly calls " the imprudence and want of forethought and calcu- lation so common to young men entering the clerical profession," he " early entered into matrimonial en- gagements," to the hazard of his prospects of profes- sional efficiency, distinction, and usefulness, as well as of that of personal independence which is so important not only to the minister's comfort and freedom of mind, but scarcely less to his standing with the people of his charge, and so to his power of influencing them for their good. The mischief of that pecuniary pressure, of which, in his own case. Dr. Ware condemns the occasion, was experienced by him in the necessity Avhich it im- posed of engaging in pursuits which defrauded his fine mind of full opportunity to do itself justice, and in the effect which he feared was to be ascribed to it on the premature decay of the beloved early partner of his life. " Ignorant altogether of the value and use of money, I soon found," he says, " by experience, that a salary of four hundred and fifty dollars, was far short of what was necessary for the comfortable support of a family, in the very lowest style of living which my profession and place in society required. I Avas ac- cordingly pressed with poverty, and obliged to resort to the only means which seemed to be open for a country clergyman for supplying the deficiency of his salary, that of keeping boarders, and taking the charge of boys to fit for college. It was a very laborious and irksome life, and less profitable than it should have been." HENRY WARE. 235 That, under such circumstances, he should have ac- quired so high distinction in his profession, is proof not only of great natural aptitude for its duties, but of great diligence and energy of purpose. It must be presumed that the extent of his professional attain- ments was narrowed from this cause, the general cul- tivation and efficiency of his mind hindered, and his eminence and usefulness less than under circumstan- ces more propitious they would have become. But one is led only the more to admire the fidelity and perseverance, which, under such disadvantages, ac- complished such results. Certain it is that he was conspicuous in the first rank of the clergymen of the day in all the accomplishments and graces that become that character. His services as a preacher were held in the highest esteem by the people of his charge and in the neighboring churches, while, in the more pri- vate walks of the sacred office, though long restrained, according to his own account, by a constitutional diffi- dence, which embarrassed his freedom of communica- tion, and abridged his enjoyment and usefulness in society, he won the attachment of his people by a conscientious and affectionate desire for their welfare, and sympathy with their fortunes, and was especially valued by that portion of them the most competent to estimate correctly the rectitude and delicacy of his character, and the resources of his mind. The consideration in which he was held by the best judges, as well as by the community at large, was shown, when, in 1805, in the forty-first year of his age, he was elected to the chair of the Hollis Profes- sorship of Divinity in the University in this place ; an eminent post of duty, to which any man in the min- 236 HENRY WARE. istry would have regarded it as a flattering honor to be invited. Not without hesitation and misgivings, but moved ahke by a sense of the rightful claims of the public upon those whom it demands for its impor- tant trusts, and by considerations of expected benefit to his family, he determined to make that perilous . experiment on a minister's happiness, the separation from an affectionate people. His appointment was confirmed by the Overseers on the 14th day of Feb- ruary ; he was inaugurated on the 14th of May, and removed to Cambridge the following month. One hope which had had its influence on his determination was doomed to be frustrated. " I could not," he says, " without deep solicitude and regret, see the life of one, endeared to me by pure and kind affection, and all the virtues of a faithful wife, wasted away by labors and anxieties beyond her strength ; and it was J^artly, at least, the hope of being able to provide better for her support, that made me willing to accept the offer of a professorship in College, and a removal to Cam- bridge. But it was too late. She survived only till the 13th of July following." The election of Mr. Ware to the Hollis Professor- ship marks an era in the history of the Congregational churches of New England. Dr. Tappan, his prede- cessor, was a man esteemed by all parties for the candor of his sentiments and the gentleness of his spirit, as well as for the purity of his life. Without pretending to fix the exact point of Dr. Tappan's tem- perature on the doctrinal thermometer, it fell within the somewhat vague range of what had already begun to be called moderate Calvinism. Dr. Morse, who vindicates for him a sufficient, though not the highest HENRY WARE. 237 degree of orthodoxy, sets him down as a Sublapsarian. But of late years a different theory of Christian doc- trine had been adopted by a large and intelligent por- tion of the comrniinity, and found favor with some of the governors of the College. At the time when the vacancy occasioned by Dr. Tappan's death came to be filled, the Fellows were the Reverend Drs. Lothrop and Eliot, Judge Davis, Judge Wendell, and Professor Pearson, the three first- named belonging to the liberal school in dogmatics, the last two to the ortJiodox, to use the terms by which the two parties then chose to be distinguished. Mr. Treas- urer Storer, though his views were not so precisely defined, now belonged to the church of Mr. Buckmin- ster, and was understood to be inclining to the liberal opinions of his eminent young pastor. By this cor- poration was Mr. Ware elected Hollis Professor, the rival candidate, as may be inferred from the pamphlets of the time, being the Reverend Dr. Appleton, then of Hampton, Ncav Hampshire, afterwards President of Bowdoin College. The nomination, when submitted to the Overseers, was strenuously opposed in that Board by the late Reverend Dr. Morse, of Charlestown, and others. The character of Mr. Ware was treated with unvary- ing respect. The argument was made to rest on the importance to the cause of religion and the well-being of the community, that the incumbent of the Hollis Professorship should hold Calvinistic opinions, and especially on the supposed obligation to make such a choice imposed on the College authorities by the stat- utes of the founder ; a point which has been amply treated by many writers, among others by President 238 HENRY WARE. Quincy, in his history of the College, and by Mr. Francis C. Gray, in his letter to Governor Lincoln, in 1831, and which cannot be expected to be discussed here. The nomination of Professor Ware was confirmed by the Overseers by a vote of 33 to 23, to the great discontent of a portion of the clergy, and of other lead- ing men. The following year, Dr. Pearson detached himself from the College, resigning his places both as Professor and Fellow, and assigning as the cause that there remained "no reasonable hope to promote that reformation in the College he wished," and that " events during the past year had so deeply affected his mind, beclouded the prospect, spread such a gloom over the University, and compelled him to take such a view of its internal state and its external relations, of its radical and constitutional maladies, as to exclude the hope of rendering any essential service to the in- terests of religion by continuing his relation to it." He immediately transferred his activity and influence to the erection of a new school of theological instruc- tion ; and, in two years more, was established with large endowments, the Theological Institution at An- dover, in which he became the first Professor of Sa- cred Literature. Dr. Morse published a pamphlet entitled " True Reasons on which the Election of a Hollis Professor of Divinity in Harvard College was opposed at the Board of Overseers," and presently became involved in a controversy respecting certain transactions con- nected with his and Miss Adams's Histories of New England, which did not cease for nine or ten years, and which was alleged by himself and his friends to HENRY WARE, 239 have been provoked by the part he had taken in the election of the Holhs Professor. In 1805, the once famous Magazine called " The Panoplist " was set up, for the defence and inculcation of Calvinistic opinions. To the " Boston Anthology," which though it often treated theological subjects, was rather a journal of general literature and science, succeeded, in 1812, " The General Repository and Review," edited by Mr. Norton, which, with the signal ability of its learned conductor, assumed the champi- onship of liberal views. In 1815 was republished here the chapter treating of the Progress and State of the Unitarian Churches in America, from Belsham's " Memoir of the Reverend Theophilus Lindsey," the beginning of the active controversy, in which the late Dr. Ghanning, Dr. Worcester, of Salem, John Lowell, and a writer in the " Panoplist," understood to be Mr. Jeremiah Evarts, bore the principal part, and which finally drew the line of the division still existing in the Congregational church of New England. Of this series of events, so important in our religious history, the efficient causes lay far deeper, but their immediate occasion and impulse was the election of Mr. Ware to the Hollis Professorship. Meanwhile, the original subject of all this stir was devoting himself in tranquil retirement to the proper duties of his place. He took no part in the public discussion of doctrines till after several years, when the urgency of his friends, who were unwilling that so much calm wisdom, experience, and ability should fail to bring a tribute to what he and they esteemed so good a cause, so far overcame his natural diffidence as to prevail upon him to publish, in 1820, a volume 240 HENRY WARE. entitled " Letters to Trinitarians and Calvinists, occa- sioned by Dr. Woods's Letters to Unitarians," which passed through three editions the same year, and drew, in 1821, a reply from Dr. Woods. Dr. Ware continued the controversy by an answer to this work in 1822, and a " Postscript " to the same the following year. As a prominent officer of the academical institution, he took his full interest and part in its internal admin- istration, and in all its cares and concerns. He pre- pared, and read to the students, comprehensive and elaborate courses of lectures on the evidences, doc- trines, and ethics of religion, and on the history and criticism of the records of revelation. He conducted the instruction of the classes in the text-books from time to time prescribed in those departments, xo the routine of discipline, he freely gave his time and wise attention ; and the rare union in him of firmness, gen- tleness, and sound and careful judgment, made him a stable stay, on the one part, for authority to lean upon, and conciliated confidence and made obedience easy on the other. After the establishment, in 1814, of the separate Lord's day worship in the College chapel, he punctually took his share in the pulpit service ; a heavily laborious duty, when performed as he per- formed it, to one whose week has been crowded full with the tasks of instruction. When, at two different times, after the death of President Webber and the resignation of President Kirkland, he was invested with the temporary government of the College, it prospered beneath his care. From its earher life, from the time when the legend of consecration to Christ and to the Church was in- HENRY WARE. 241 scribed above its venerable portal, the institution has been a place of preparation for the ministry of Christ's religion. It is not known that at any earlier period of the College history than that which we now are con- sidering, there had been arrangements for any syste- matic course of instruction for the young men, who, having completed their academic term, continued to reside in Cambridge, pursuing their studies for the pulpit. As far as can be ascertained the advantages they sought and found in a residence there consisted in the use of the library, and in such occasional private communications and counsels of the President and the Hollis Professor, and sometimes other officers, as might aid them in the direction of their reading, the formation of opinions, the use of time, and the percep- tion and appreciation of the particular objects of that high usefulness to which they had become devoted. At the time of the accession of Professor Ware, the importance of a more systematic culture had come to be perceived. He was one of those genuine lovers of reform and progress who are always ready for any innovation for the better ; who, in the pursuit of what is truly good and useful, are not only content to move on with their age, but desirous to move on before it. He had not been here more than long enough to obtain freedom and ease in the prescribed and tradi- tional duties of his place, before he devised and re- duced to experiment new methods of useful influence. In 1811, he began a course of stated exercises with the resident students in divinity, which proved to be the germ of the existing Divinity School. In 1815, in consequence of a circular issued by the Corporation, soliciting aid to the object of preparing 21 242 HENRY WARE. young men for the ministry, a considerable amount of funds was collected, and the " Society for promoting Theological Education in Harvard University " was formed. In the following year, at the request of the Corporation, Mr. Norton, Lecturer on Biblical Litera- ture on the foundation of the late Samuel Dexter, undertook a course of exercises with the divinity students in that science. Professor Frisbie also (and subsequently Professor Follen) afforded them some instruction in ethics ; Professor Willard, in Hebrew ; Professor Everett, in the criticism of the Sepluagint version; and Dr. Kirkland, in dogmatic theology. In 1819, just after the inauguration of Mr. Norton as Dexter Professor of Biblical Literature, the students in divinity were divided into three classes, with refer- ence to the number of years which it was desired they should henceforward devote to their novitiate. In 1824, the immediate government of the School was vested in the directors of the Society for promoting Theological Education, an arrangement which was revoked in 1831, when some of the duties of that board reverted to the Corporation of the College, and others to the Faculty of Theology. In 1826, Divinity College, erected by means partly of the funds collected ten years before, and partly of new contributions for the purpose, was first occupied by the School. Four years after, it obtained the inestimable accession of the services of the Reverend Henry Ware, junior, in the departments of Pulpit Eloquence and the Pastoral Care ; and the several subjects of instruction being divided between this office and those of the Hollis and Dexter Professorships, the system of regular education for the ministry was made permanent and in some sense complete. HENRY AVARE. 243 Dr. Ware continued to devote himself to these labors with accustomed ability and dihgence till the year 1840, more than thirty-five years from their com- mencement ; a longer service than was ever rendered by any president of the College, or any professor ex- cept two. Down to the autumn of 1839, when the writer of this memoir ceased to be his colleague, there was not apparent any decay whatever of his intel- lectual powers. He had still all the promptness and rectitude of judgment, the inquisitiveness, vivacity, decision, and clear perceptions, which had belonged to him at any period of our long acquaintance. But, about that time, in consequence of the inconvenience experienced from a cataract, which for three or four years had been forming on his right eye, he found it judicious to retire from a portion of his duties, and limit his attention henceforward to the Divinity School. In the autumn of 1840, not without misgivings on his own part and that of his friends, it was resolved to make the experiment of relief from the operation of couching, previously to taking which step he resigned his professorship, receiving from the Corporation of the College the amplest expression of the sense enter- tained by them of the fidelity and value of his long services. The operation upon his eye was not successful ; a violent fever set in, and his constitution was perma- nently impaired. To leave for posterity some monu- ment of his honorable labors, and (such was his own modest statement of the motive) " to relieve himself from the tediousness of a useless and inactive life," he employed the two following years in carrying through the press a selection from one of the series of his 244 HENRY WARE. academical discourses, which he published early in 1842, under the title of "an inquiry into the Foun- dation, Evidences, and Truths of Rehgion ; " a work deeply impressed with the good sense, good taste, candor, sobriety, gentleness, and profound rever- ence for truth and righteousness, which characterized the writer's mind. The labor occasioned by this publication may per- haps have been injurious, after the shock which his nervous system had lately undergone. His faculties of mind and body declined through that and the following year, and for the most part he confined him- self to his home, though sometimes he was present at public worship, and occasionally might be seen in his garden, enjoying the heart-healing sounds of summer and the odorous presence of the fruits and flowers which he could no longer see. The last time he walked abroad was when he passed to his new dwell- ing, on the 20th of November, 1843. It was con- sumed by fire seven weeks afterwards, but the agita- tion of that scene did not appear to distress him, but rather for a time to reawaken his energies. He was replaced in the comfort of his dwelhng, as soon as it could be rebuilt, and, at the close of an illness exempt in its later stages from suffering, departed this life on the 12th of July, 1845. Such is the doom of humanity, and wise men do not deplore it ; when and as it pleased God, the good man finished a course run for his own honor, for the divine service and favor, for the good of us who loved him here, and of many, many others, living and de- parted. To be remembered gratefully when gone, what other remembrance is there worth a thinking HENRY WARE. 245 man's thought ? To have lived well, what is there else unquestionably worth living for ? He was an equably burning and cheerfully shining light, in which for a season we were willing to rejoice, and now the sum of his example and influence is added to that of the example and influence of those good and wise who are a salt to savor the world. It is believed that he never had an enemy, and he had cordial friends and well-wishers without number. I never heard of any body's being injured by his unkind word or deed. A meek and gentle charity was the spirit of his life. Mild and encouraging in his intercourse with intimates and strangers, tolerant in his judgments, reasonable in his expectations, easy to be pleased, patient to wait God's time for his successes, grateful for what was given, content to forego what Avas denied, a rare serenity of mind endowed him richly with that truest independ- ence that can belong to man. No one could be much with him, and continue to cherish the tumults of a selfishly ambitious or a dissatisfied temper. Occupy- ing a conspicuous and responsible station, in which an agitator would have found abundance of temptation and scope for turbulent activity, and which unavoid- ably, from the circumstances of the times, invited some ungentle assault, he knew how to be inflexibly true to its obligations, without ever a departure from the meekness of wisdom. The candor of his mind was remarkable. He trusted truth enough to give error every fair chance. Who ever knew him unjust to an adverse statement, or heard him sharpen an argument with a taunt ? The scrupulous, rather the essential and spontane- ous, fairness and uprightness of his understanding was 21* 246 HENRY WARE. an eminent qualification for a liberal discipline of youth. Its influence gently laid their minds open to a willing and reverential reception of all truth, and by a sort of insensible but irresistible contagion inspired them with the love of it, and of the goodness with which it is congenial. A great firmness in counsel and action belonged to this steady tranquillity of spirit ; a truer man, to stand courageously by what his cautious judg- ment had once approved as fit and right, does not live. A hopeful perseverance belonged to it no less. His official success was not without its interruptions. At one time, twenty-five years ago, some of the most eminent of his pupils adopted a theory of Christianity the most adverse to his views of a sober interpretation of the Scriptures. At a more recent period the School was partially infected by what he and his col- leagues regarded as a sad tendency to no religion. But he had lived long enough to see many unexpected occurrences, and therefore to see some others without surprise ; and observation and experience, as well as meditation, had given him a reliance on the power of truth, and of the well directed labors of its friends, which forbade a moment's discouragement or distrust, even though some floating vapor should, within the little range of its transient shadow, obscure that ever- burning sun. And always, before long, a better state of things rewarded his constant hope. That exemplary and useful life was also a singu- larly happy one. Show me the man more truly for- tunate than was he, before disease had impaired the sense of enjoyment. A remark has been quoted a few years ago, as having been made by one as high as any in social position, of ample fortune, and experienced in HENRY WARE. 247 a round of the honors of public station. He said, he " could not name the life more fortunate than had been that of Dr. Ware." * On pausing to ponder the observation, it will be found, in all its unqualified em- phasis, to be true. Arrived at the verge of age in bodily and mental health ; rich in the priceless mem- ories of a well-spent life ; surrounded with the joys of domestic affection ; the community grateful to him for his own services, and again grateful to him for raising up to them benefactors and blessings in his children ; what was there wanting, of all that is worthy of a wise man's wish, to fill his cup of mercies to the brim ? The sacred poet's language was made for his use. " Tell thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thoughts employ : Nor is the least a cheerful heart That tastes those gifts with joy." For that crowning blessing, the cheerful heart that tastes the gifts with joy, was eminently his. On his seventieth birthday, he made a record, with a suffi- cient expression of the thankfulness that was swelling in his burdened breast, yet with a modest reserve that but imperfectly sets forth the reasons. " In looking back upon the past," he wrote, " it is not possible for me to express sufficiently my gratitude to God for the prosperity he has given me. Life prolonged to so great an age ; health as sound as at any former period of life, with few of the infirmities of age which make life a burden ; a reasonable competence for the support of life, sufficient to prevent anxiety, and not enough to encourage indolence and relieve from the necessity of * The remark was attributed to the late "William Prescott. 248 HENRY WARE. economy and care ; that medium of condition, which is best suited to virtue and to contentment ; above all, sources of domestic satisfaction and peace in the charac- ter, dispositions, conduct, and affections of all the near- est relations of life, unalloyed by a single exception of unamiableness of character, personal defect or misfor- tune." On the 20th of August, 1835, in his seventy- second year, circumstances favored the gathering of all his race around his table, and they assembled to the number of fifty, all his living children by birth and by ' the adoption of marriage, and all his grandchildren, to overjoy his heart, and take his blessing together, and grasp each other and both their revered parents in fraternal and filial embraces. What a group ! What centres of influence, what objects of wide love and veneration, were met that day, from their several spheres, beneath that roof ! The strife between Croesus, the Lydian, and Tellus, the Athenian, had they been living then, would have been solved.* Whoever else might have been the happiest of rnen, there was one here that day who would have stood between them and a good pretension to that title. In April, 1839, referring to the record on his seven- tieth birthday, already quoted. Dr. Ware wrote : — " Five years have passed away since I wrote the fore- going pages, and, by the blessing of God, for which I hope I am duly thankful, I am still here, and can still speak, as then, of unimpared bodily health, but not, as then, so confidently of organs and faculties not percepti- bly impaired by age. The last lustrum has witnessed a very sensible decay of all my powers, both of body * Tig navruv bXpianaroc ; — Herod.) Lib. I , § 30. HENRY WARE. 249 and of mind, and admonishes me more impressively with what rapid speed my life is hastening to its close. My sight, which began almost four years ago to fail, has been gradually failing ever since, so that, extend- ing now to the other eye, it has become so dim as to admit of my reading but very little, and with great difficulty. My hearing, so far as respects the mere perception of sounds, I cannot perceive to be in any degree impaired." So wrote the resigned, good man, the wisdom he loved beginning to be " at one entrance quite shut out." Six more years have passed, half of them years of sore infirmity, and the scene is closed. Blessings on the memory of an illustrious Christian sage ! The places that have known him are to know him no more. But the gracious influences with which he filled them linger yet. The community which he served has an enviable place for him in its annals, and a place as per- manent and larger still in the beneficent influence which from him spread forth so broadly through so many of its interests. The family which he trained to honor, understand well, that of what they best loved in him, all is not departed. And the large com- pany of us, his other children, who, whenever we think of any portion of good in principle and senti- ment that we may hope we possess, are reminded of his instructions, counsels, and example, will still rise up reverently at the hearing of his name, and cordially pronounce him blessed. NOTE. [The following very complete aud satisfactory statement respecting the Hollis Professorship was prepared by the Executive Committee of the American Unitarian Association and annexed to an edition of Dr. Palfrey's 250 FACTS RELATING discourse, (the original form in which the memoir appeared,) and published in one of their series of Tracts. It is republished here, as it was prepared by the Committee, being considered an historical document of too mucli im- portance to be omitted. The reasons assigned for its publication in their Tracts apply with equal force to its republication in this collection of Biogra- phies. — Ed.] The circumstances under which the preceding Discourse was delivered did not admit or require any extended notice of the controversy between the Unitarian and Calvinistic divisions of the Congregationalists of New England, the heat of which was greatest on the occasion of the election of Dr. Ware to the Mollis Professorship of Divinity in Harvard College. The large audience who listened to the delivery of the discourse, and those like- wise who gladly availed themselves of the copies of the small edition of it first printed at Cambridge, as of a treasure to be safely preserved, did not need to be informed of the merits of that controversy, or of Dr. Ware's place and part in it. They certainly could not have expected that Dr. Palfrey should have reiterated the oft-repeated story of the Hollis Professorship, or have vindicated the character of Dr. Ware from being a party to the abuse of a sacred legacy. But now that this discourse is to have a more ex- tended circulation, it may fall into the hands of some who have heard or read that its venerable subject allowed himself to be the agent or instrument in the hands of others of perverting certain funds given for the support of Calvinism to the inculcation of Unitarianism. This atrocious calumny has frequently been spoken and written with all the assurance of ignorance, and all the eflrontery of bigotry. That excellent man, who has left the im- pression of a stainless and a thoroughly Christian character upon all who were privileged by his acquaintance, has been repeatedly charged with sac- rificing conscience to ambition, and with assuming the duties of a professor" ship by the statutes of which he was plainly condemned, and by whose founder he would have been regarded as a dangerous heretic, if not as a downright unbeliever. It seemed desirable, therefore, to the Executive Committee of the Unita- rian Association, that, in introducing this discourse into their series of Tracts, it should be accompanied with a few simple statements designed in all charity and justice to acquaint any one who was honestly in error, or had been pur- posely misinformed, with the truth on this matter. So often has the truth been told, so often have all the facts and documents relating to this subject been spread before the public, that it now may be fairly concluded that who- ever repeats the calumny does so maliciously, or under the prompting of malice in others. The substance of the charge which was brought against the officers of Harvard College, and against Rev. Dr. Ware, the Hollis Professor, and which was urged in the pamplilets and newspapers at the time of his election, and which has been repeated ever since, is, that a bequest made to the College for the support of a professor of Calvinistic views was perverted from its purpose, and given to him as his stipend for teaching Unitariani.«m. This charge has likewise been made the basis of a general imputation against the College and its officers of a sacrilegious breach of trust. TO THE HOLLIS PROFESSORSHIP. 251 The facts, which it is thought important to state again here, are these. In the year 1719, Thomas HoUis, a rich merchant of London, who had pre- viously made donations of books and money to the College, founded a divinity professorship, and set apart for it a sum the income of which is now about two himdred dollars. Mr. HoUis was a man of the most liberal religious views, and of a most catholic and comprehensive charity. He held to the importance and propriety of adult baptism, and yet he proposed this his con- viction no further than to enjoin that no candidate for a share in his benefac- tions should be rejected for not agreeing with the New England Congrega- tionalists in their view of the divine right of infant baptism. From incidental expressions in his letters, it may be inferred that he coincided with the doctrinal sentiments which prevailed in his day among all classes of Chris- tians, though not a single expression of his can be pointed out which shows that he laid any stress upon any Calvinistic doctrine. He certainly enjoined no test, and asked no subscription, and imposed no creed of one or many arti- cles upon the incumbent of his professorship, — except to require that his professor should declare, " that the Scriptures of the Old and New Testa- me?tt are the only perfect ride of faith and 9na7niers" and that no recipient of his charities " should be refused on account of his belief and practice of adult baptism.^' With all plainness and positiveness we advance the following assertion, which cannot be in the least invalidated, namely, that every thing which was written or enjoined for the sake of connecting a religious doctrinal test with the use and improvement of the Hollis professorship was written and en- joined on this side of the water, and was concealed from its generous founder. Indeed, as if in open insult of Mr. Hollis, Mr. Wigglesworth, the first Hollis Professor, was required to assent to the doctrine of the divine right of infant baptism. President Quincy, in his valuable history of the College, has given a most full and clear statement of the intrigues which were used on this side of the water to vitiate and abuse the liberality of Mr. Hollis. The following con- clusion or summary of his examination of the matter may be regarded by the reader as abundantly fortified and unassailable. " The investigation, it is believed, has resulted in establishing, beyond any reasonable question, the following points. " 1. That the Professorship of Divinity, as it first came from the hands of Hollis, was absolutely without restriction or qualification ; and not only free from any sectarian test, but so broad and unequivocal in language, that no sectarian test could be extracted or deduced from it. " 2. That the terms, out of which the attempt to establish a test has grown, were of New England invention and transmission. "3. That Hollis, by providing that the only declaration required of his professor should be ' his belief that the Scriptures of the Old and New Tes- tament are the only perfect rule of faith and manners, and that he promise to explain and open the Scriptures to his pupils with integrity and upright- ness, according to the best light that God shall give him,' established his pro- 252 FACTS RELATING fessorship upon the broad basis of a belief in the Scriptures ; a foundation wholly inconsistent with a required belief in any specified sectarian points or creeds. " 4. That the construction wliich substituted, in place of the simple de- claration required by Hollis of his professor, an examination and declaration of faith in all the high points of New England Calvinism, including a belief in the divine right of infant baptism, could not have received the approba- tion or consent of Hollis ; and that there is no evidence, or reasonable ground to believe it was ever communicated to him, or known by him to the day of his death. " From these points, thus established, it unavoidably results, that the sus- picions of double dealing, to which an overheated zeal for sects and tests has subjected tlie character of Hollis, are wholly unfounded. Thomas Hollis was a man incapable of the meanness of attempting to do indirectly, by the use of a word of equivocal meaning, that which, had he done it directly, would have contradicted the whole tenor of his life, and the trait of character which he most valued, — charity. Much more was he incapable of the hypocrisy of prescribing in terms, that a belief in the sacred Scriptures should be the only declaration required of his professor, and, in the same instrument, by con- struction, clandestinely providing that his professor should be examined and de- clare his belief in all the high points of New England Calvinism. Above all, he was incapable of being a traitor to the faith he publicly professed, by estab- lishing directly, in one clause of his statutes, that his professor might be of the ' Baptist communion,' and constructively, by the use of an equivocal word, in another clause requiring in direct contradiction of the peculiar tenets of the Baptist faith, that, as a condition of admission, his professor should declare his belief in the divine right of infant baptism." The following editorial article, which appeared in the Christian Register, April 5, 1845, is copied here because of the character and interest of the facts which it presents in connection with the present subject : — " In a notice of Mr. James Peirce, of Exeter, some weeks since, we stated our intention to present to our readers an account of the proceedings of the dissenting ministers, at a meeting in London, at Salters' Hall, in 1719. Our object in bringing forward the subject, as was then mentioned, is to show how completely it overtln-ows the claim to the possession of Harvard College which the Orthodox are now making. " Mr. Peirce, it will be remembered, had broached Unitarian sentiments, and there were many in that part of the country who were understood to favor his views. The spirit of bigotry and intolerance was raised to a per- fect flame of panic fear, and violent horror against the great heresy, as it was called. All the usual methods were adopted to crush it, and, among othersi an attempt was made to procure the passage of a test by a national conven- tion of dissenting ministers in London. " Whiston, in his Memoirs, says that this was ' the most remarkable Synod or Assembly ' of dissenting ministers that had been held for many years. It was called, as he states, for the purpose of attending to and regulating the TO THE HOLLIS PROFESSORSHIP. 253 difficulties at Exeter, arising out of Mr. Peirce's Unitarianism. The ques- tion was, Shall he be compelled to make an Orthodox subscription, or to re- sign ? In other words, does Unitarianism disqualify a minister of the Gospel, and authorize exclusion from fellowship ? The result of the debate was a vote, by yeas and nays, against the imposition of any creed or test of human construction, of any other rule of faith than the Bible. The division was close, but the majority was resolute. Seventy-three declared in favor of the Bible, and of each one's liberty to interpret it for himself Sixty-nine were in favor of a test that would exclude Unitarians. Sir Joseph Jekyl, the Master of the Rolls, who had watched the discussion with the liveliest in- terest, and was delighted at the result, exclaimed, ' The Bible has carried it by four.' " Whiston says, ' This 1 look upon as the first example of a body of Chris- tians' public declaration for Christian liberty in matters of religion.' The same author slates, that ' The general Baptists had also a very great meeting in London about 1730, where the numbers were about 120, who also came i?i a manner universally into the same determination, of not making any human explications necessary to Christian communion.' " Bishop Hoadly, remarking upon tliis meeting, and upon its final vote, says, in confirmation of the declaration of Whiston, 'that it was the first con- vocation or assembly of divines, since the time of the Apostles, that had carried a question for liberty.' " Mr. Hollis took a deep interest in the proceedings of the convention at Salters' Hall, and exercised an important influence upon its result. In a letter to Dr. Colman, of Boston, two years afterwards, he thus expresses him- self. ' Had there not been a majority against subscribing the roll at Salters' Hall, such a test would have run through all the churches in England by this time, which would have endangered many schisms, and silenced many use- ful preachers ; and I ke.toice their plot did not succeed.' " That this continued to be Mr. Hollis's opinion is further evident from the fact mentioned by Whiston, that the Baptist denomination, to which he be- longed and in which he exercised great influence, in 1730, 'in a manner universally,' at a great meeting in London, declared their adherence to the principle of liberality and toleration which triumphed at Salters' Hall in 1719. " Mr. Hollis founded his Professorship of Divinity in Cambridge, in 1721. The articles were drawn up, at his request, by a commission of seven minis- isters, whose names are as follows: — Daniel Neal, Jeremiah Hunt, Moses Lowman, Arthur Shaliett, William Harris, Joshua Oldfield, D. D., Edward Wallin. " Now, let it be observed, that four of these seven, Harris, Hunt, Lowman, and Shallett, had voted, just before they were commissioned by Mr. Hollis to fiame the articles of his endowment, against excluding Unitarians by the ap- plication of a test ; against, in fact, precisely such a principle of action as the Orthodox are developing in their present proceedings in reference to Harvard College. If Mr. Hollis had designed to shut the door of the pro- 22 254 FACTS RELATING fessorship against Unitarians, it was strange that he committed the framing of its articles to men, a majority of whom had so recently declared, by their vote, given at the close of a strenuous controversy on that very point, that the door of the pulpit ought not to be closed against them ! Besides these four, Dr. Oldfield was the moderator of the meeting which decided for the toleration of Unitarians, and continued to preside at all meetings of the liberal party, after the minority had seceded. So that of the men who acted at the meeting at Salters' Hall, five of the seven selected to express Mr. Hollis's views had acted with the liberal party. Edwin Wallin was the only one of the seven who voted for a test. He was a Baptist, and selected, prob- ably, from that circumstance, Mr. Hollis himself being a Baptist. But his vote cannot be considered of any considerable weight, inasmuch as, in all likelihood, he soon saw cause to change his views, the whole Baptist denom- ination having, a few years afterwards (he it is to be presumed, among the number,) ' in a manner universally ' declared against a test of orthodoxy. The other member of the commission, Daniel Neal, the author of the History of the Puritans, was not at the meeting, but he is well known to have been a thor- ough advocate of civil and religious liberty, and was so far from favoring a test, that he would not acquiesce in a distinctive party name among Christians. Dr. William Harris was the intimate friend of Lardner, who preached a fu- neral sermon on his death. Dr. Grosvenor, who also preached on the same occasion, says of Harris : — 'To me he seemed to be of no party. Men might call him by what name they pleased ; he was fond of no denomination but that of Christian.' Dr Oldfield is also declared by his contemporaries to have been a truly hberal Christian, acknowledging no other name. Moses Low- man, one of the greatest Hebrew and Rabbinical scholars that ever lived, was a Unitarian, and the first to develop views of the office of Christ as the WORD of God, which prevail quite extensively among Unitarians iii this country, and are getting into repute with many learned men not ranked under that name. Dr. Jeremiah Hunt was anti-Calvinistic and anti-Trini- tarian. He held to the supremacy of the Father, as decidedly and as dis- tinctly as we do. And what is the most decisive proof of Hollis's own liberal view.:, he himself, although a Baptist, attended upon Dr. Hunt's ministry, and was one of the deacons of his church ! " Can any tiling be more preposterous than an attempt to wrest Hansard College out of the hands of the Unitarians, on the ground that Thomas Hollis was a Baptist and Orthodox, when Thomas Hollis participated in the settle- ment, and sat at the time under the preaching of a man, who, in one of his published sermons, declares that the Father alone is the supreme and ultimate object of worship. ' For,' says Dr. Harris, ' we worship the FatJier, by the Son, and through the Spirit, and, when there is, in Scripture, any instance of worship paid to the Son, it is paid to him as the Lamb of God, as the Son of the Father, and so ultimately paid to God.'' " Hollis was the parishioner of Jeremiah Hunt. He called upon him and six others, five of whom were the friends of Nathaniel Lardner, and the de- fenders of James Peirce, to frame the articles of a Professorship of Divinity TO THE HOLLIS PROFESSORSHIP. 255 for Hareard College, and liis name is now employed to sustain an intolerant and most bigoted procedure, and to countenance an attempt to exclude and excommunicate Unitarians. And this is done by the Calvinistic Orthodox Congregationalists, with whom Hollis never had any connection or sympa- thies whatever. If the Baptists saw lit to enter into this war against a liberal administration of the College, they might do it with a better countenance. But they are too just to themselves, to the memory of Hollis, and to the character of their own denomination, as one of the main bidwarks of civil and religious liberty, to participate in a movement so uncalled for, so un- provoked, so unreasonable, and which but poorly succeeds, by vociferous outcries about sectarianism, to conceal its own sectarian design." The part taken by Dr. Ware in the great controversy which followed upon his induction into otiice is stated in the preceding Discourse. We had intended to make some extracts from the tliree publications which he then issued, but our space will not permit. His pieces are models which all con- troversialists might well follow ; their calmness and good judgment, their just discriminations and good taste, are as conspicuous as their learning and their thoroughness ; but the beautiful spirit of candor and meekness which breathes on every page, and which was the very essence of the man, as a preacher, as a teacher, and as a writer, will command the admiration of every reader, as they did of his immediate opponent. We copy the two concluding paragraplis of the " Postscript to his Second Series of Letters." " The great articles of the Unitarian faith, I am satisfied, rest upon a foundation that can never be shaken. The more they are contemplated, the dearer they are to my heart; and the more closely I have had occasion to examine the evidence upon which they stand, and the objections that have been urged against them, the more firmly am I persuaded of their truth and their importance. The oftener they are presented to view, and made the subject of public discussion, the better will they be under-stood, the more clearly will their evidence, their reasonableness, and their foundation in the word of God, be perceived, and the sooner, I am confident, shall we witness their general prevalence. As foreign, therefore, as all my habits and all my feelings have been from religious controversy, I thank God for the opportu- nity which this discussion has given me, of contributing what was in my power to so important an end, by the exposition and defence of some of the most imporatnt theological opinions generally maintained by Unitarian Chris- tians. It has been no small satisfaction to me to know, that the argument on the other side has been so conducted as to leave no room to doubt that the Orthodox objections have been stated in their full strength, and with every advantage of which they are capable. For in this, as in every case, the cause of truth, and its eventual triumph, is best promoted by having the arguments by which it is supported subjected to a thorough and severe examination. "It has given me pleasure, also, to notice the good temper and expression of kind feelings with which the discussion has been conducted by my oppo- 256 FACTS, ETC. nent, on the side of the Orthodox faith. It is for the reader to judge, whether it has been met on my part with a spirit equally manifesting a love of truth and Christian charity. In whatever degree this has been the case, it leads to the hope, that in the same degree the cause of truth, and holiness, and love will be promoted, and that those who read, though they should not be brought nearer together in their articles of faith, will not, on the other hand, be separated wider asunder in their feelings; — that, whether they are able or not to arrive at a unity of faith upon all points which they deem impor- tant, they will make some approach toward that unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, which is a far more important and desirable object, and a more decisive mark of their Christian character." MEMOIR THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 22* THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. Thaddeus Mason Harris was born in Charlestown, Mass., July 7th, 1768. From writings prepared by him for his family, and which have been consulted and used in drawing up this memoir, it appears that his parents were of more than ordinary intelligence and respectability. His mother, it especially appears, was possesed of great goodness of heart and deep rehgious sensibilities. The son of whom we speak was the oldest of seven children. In the spring of 1775 — he being then in his seventh year — his pa- rents were compelled to retire from Charlestown, by reason of the warlike operations of Avhich it prom- ised soon to be the theatre, as it was the victim. They gathered together what of their substance they could carry as they walked, and left their home for the inte- rior ; the oldest child — our departed friend — leading by the hands his twin sisters, two years younger than himself. They journeyed, now on foot and now by chance conveyances, until they reached the town of Choxet, since Sterling. There they tarried, in a state of almost utter destitution. In the winter of '78, the father died ; leaving his little flock — all but fam- 260 THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. ished — to the sole guardianship of their mother. The subject of our notice, at the invitation of a neigh- boring farmer, soon left, for the first time, her gentle presence, to become a member of his family; whose affections he seems to have won, by his respectful demeanor and amiable dispositions. In the following spring, he went to reside at Tem- pleton, Mass., in the family of Rev. Mr. Sparhawk, the minister of the town ; where he had opportunities of reading, such as he had never before enjoyed, and of which he gladly availed himself; — discovering, at this early period, that love of books which afterwards possessed him as a passion. The next year — the eleventh of his life — he was removed to the family of a Dr. Morse of Shrewsbury, an aged minister, though not then in office, with Avhom he dwelt until his four- teenth year, and who attended personally to his educa- tion ; a man whose fatherly kindness towards him he seemed ever to remember with the liveliest gratitude, and whose character with the highest veneration. Be- neath such a guidance, and in the bosom of a home which he pictured as the abode of every virtue, all that was good in him must have been confirmed and strengthened ; and, doubtless, a permanent influence was here wrought upon his character. In the summer of '82, he left Shrewsbury for Cambridge, in the ex- pectation of immediately entering college ; his kind patron, who had prepared him therefor, accompanying him. But on acquainting his mother with the con- templated step, she so strongly objected, on account of her utter inability to meet in any degree the attend- ant expenses, that he was forced to relinquish the hope he had so fondly cherished ; and, abandoning all THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 261 views of a literary profession, he went to live with his mother, at the house of his father-in-law, in Maiden. After experiencing various disappointments in his attempts to procure occupation, he sought the aid of his grandfather, then Register of Deeds at Cambridge, and was employed by him as one of his secretaries. While there, he became acquainted with Mr. Kendall, afterwards minister of Weston, who, discovering his attainments, urged him to think again of college ; ob- tained, at length, his mother's consent that he should enter ; and interested men of influence in his behalf. He entered college in '83, at the age of fifteen. By means obtained in various modes of service, and by the aid of friends, whom he seems to have made wher- ever he went, he was enabled to meet the expenses of his academic course ; although, at times, greatly straitened and perplexed. It was during his Junior year in college, that an incident occured in his history, which, both for the interest it has in itself, and the influence it exerted upon his character long, if not ever, afterwards, should be related. His mother — having learned, by a visit to his room, of his great need of comfortable clothing, and unable herself to help him, save by her hands — had proposed to him to raise in some way the sum of money — a very small one — which would enable her to purchase for him Avhat he needed. After many fruitless attempts to do this, he set off" to meet his mother, as by previous arrangement, in Boston ; hav- ing nothing, in possession or prospect, but a few coppers which he had transferred from his trunk to his pocket as he left his room; and these — so strong were his benevolent sympathies — he gave to a poor 262 THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. crippled soldier thai he met on his way, and who, faint and famishing, solicited his aid. As he went on, deeply depressed at his destitute condition and in despair at his seeming fate, he perceived something adhering to the end of his rude staff he had cut on the way ; and found it to be a gold ring, into which his staff had struck itself as he walked, and having en- graved upon it the words, " God speed thee, friend " — its pecuniary worth proving sufficient for his present exigency ; and its moral value, incalculable ; helping to clothe him in what he felt he needed — a cheerful faith and confidence in God. The whole incident, acting upon his sensitive nature, and predisposed as he was to see in every thing which befel him a peculiar and sacred significance, subdued and overwhelmed him ; and appears to have given to his character a stronger religious determination. " That motto " — are his own words — "has ever been the support of my faith when it was feeble, and the strength of my heart when it was faint." He closed his collegiate course in '87 — having held a highly respectable rank in a class of uncom- mon excellence, some of Avhose members are among the great men of our land. After leaving college, he took charge of a classical school in Worcester ; where he continued for a year, and then returned to Cambridge to prosecute his theo- logical studies, towards which his mind was early bent. In the year '91, he was appointed Librarian of Har- vard University ; which office he held — preaching, as he had opportunity, in the vicinity — until his settle- ment in Dorchester ; which took place on the twenty- third of October, 1793. THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 263 Here he entered upon a field of wide and arduous service ; tlie whole town constituting the parish, and the town of much larger extent of territory than now. The few events in his history from the time of his settlement, need not be narrated. They are probably familiar ; and those to whom they are not so, would hardly be profited or interested in the dry recital of them. His life was a chequered one — as are all lives. It had its years of sunshine, and its days of cloud. His home was brightened by many joys, and sometimes darkened by sickness and bereave- ment. Sickness came upon himself; and, in the earlier part of his ministry, in one of its most wasting and dangerous forms — a sickness by which he was long, and, to him, hopelessly, prostrated ; and from the effects of which — although he found partial res- toration in travel, so that he was enabled to resume, and to continue for so many years, the labors of his profession — it is thought he never entirely recov- ered ; a sickness — it should be added — which came as a consequence of a pastoral fidelity, leading him, not unwarned, into the presence of those who were already victims of the same. He was again visited by disease, towards the close of his ministry, and was compelled by it to seek the influences of a southern clime. These were seasons of deep depression and despondency to him. And they were not the only such seasons. They occurred, not seldom, when there Avas nothinsr outward to create them. He invi- ted them, through his constitutional susceptibilities. His fears, at times, were more and mightier than his hopes. His timidity overcame his resolution. He saw omens of evil, where others could see nothing. 264 THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. His spirit was agitated and weighed down by what most men are enabled to disregard. It gave copious tribute of sighs and tears to what many would let pass without a thought. But he had other seasons ; — when his heart was elated with a childlike joy ; when the world beamed with brightness to him, as did to others his countenance with smiles ; when he abound- ed in a gentle playfulness and a most winning speech, unlocking the stores of his varied knowledge and chastened fancy, and communicating a cheerfulness and hilarity to all around him. Nor were these oppo- site moods always long separated, in point of time. They often broke upon each other, as sun and shower do in an April day. It was during the sickness last named, that he made a communication to his people — though not then for the first time — earnestly requesting that the burden of ministerial duty and responsibility, which he found to be an increasingly oppressive one, might be shared by a fellow-laborer. His desire being at length fulfilled, he continued but a year afterwards in the ministry ; and on the twenty-third of October, 1836 — the forty-third anniversary of his ordination — took leave of his people, in a discourse containing solemn counsel aud expressive of the deepest interest and affection towards them. It must ever be a gratifying recollection to them — now, more than ever before — that he came again and again to his pulpit after he thus left it, and renewed to them his assur- ances of affection and regard ; and that he continued to visit them in their homes, as he had strength and opportunity. He did not feel the tie to be sundered which bound him to his people. The heart had THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 265 woven a stronger than any legal one. That could never be broken. He loved, as he did no other, the place where he had lived so long — the place of his prayers, and labors, and sorrows, and joys. Every spot was endeared to him by some tender association. Every house had its affecting memorials ; every fire- side its touching history. And thus, with a melan- choly pleasure, did he walk among us ; holding converse less with the present than the past ; greeted by the children, and the children's children, of those Avho had first called him to be their pastor. And now he has passed away. His changeful life has met its last change on earth. He died, after a short though painful illness, in the seventy-fourth year of his age. Some features of his character were so marked and prominent, that they ought, if briefly, to be delineated. He was a man of overflowing sympathies for all who were distressed. He possessed a kindness and tender-heartedness, such as is rarely to be found. If he had tears for his own afl[lictions, they fell faster and warmer for those of others. Literally, as well as in spirit, did he fulfil the apostolic injunction, to " weep with those that weep." Nor was it this silent sym- pathy only, which he had to give ; though — silent if it be — its language is more expressive than all the forms of speech. He had words of consolation ; and he knew how to speak them. He had breathings of devotion ; and they were soothing as the music of heaven. In Scripture phrase, he was "as one that comforteth the mourners." That was his high com- mission ; and he fulfilled it well. By that was he endeared, and for that will he be remembered, more, 23 266 THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. much more, than for his intellectual endowments or achievements. In the chamber of sickness, by the bedside of the dying, in the circle of the bereaved, he was emphatically " a son of consolation " — utter- ing himself as from a bursting heart, and as one who had himself entered affliction's school. His feelings, I believe, always, and towards all men, were compas- sionate and kind ; his dispositions prevailingly benev- olent. Nature, in this respect, had done much for him ; but grace had heightened and crowned her ear- lier work. He cherished no enmities. He seemed not to harbor a particle of ill-will to a single soul. He wished to make every one happy. He was solicit- ously studious not to give offence, nor to injure anoth- er's feelings. These dispositions entered into, and characterized his public services. In them, he did " not strive," but was " gentle towards all men." His instructions were tender and affectionate, rather than bold and discrimi- nating. He was inclined, not only by nature, but doubtless, also, by what he deemed a wise expedi- ency, to draw men, rather than to drive ; to beseech them by the mercies of God, rather than to affright them by his terrors. And if, in this, he erred — and who shall say he did? — it was an error to which a soul that largely partook of the mercies with which it plead, would naturally be inclined. His preaching, without being distinguished for orig- inality or impressiveness, was marked, at times, by a felicity of diction, and a singular aptness of Scriptural allusion and quotation. It was often highly instruct- ive ; illustrating and explaining the written Word ; dispensing, so as to reach the humblest mind, an accumulated wealth of theological attainment. It THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 267 was simple and practical, rather than speculative and metaphysical ; that spirit of inquiry and investigation now so prevalent among us, which passes beyond the letter of Revelation, and would know of the princi- ples and philosophy of things, not having arisen within the term of his active ministry, and not putting upon him, therefore, its requirements. Amidst the fierce controversy concerning the doc- trines of Scripture which sprang up in our churches during the latter half of his ministry, his course was liberal and pacific. He sought not to make his people learned or skilful in the polemics of sects ; but rather to present and urge upon them what he believed to be " pure and undefiled religion." He had no love of disputation. He could not bandy contentious words. His heart was strung to a gentle harmony, and there could never be stricken from it the harsh tones of a sectarian zeal. He studied " the things that make for peace." He desired to lead his flock " beside the still waters," and to guard it from the strifes and dissensions which have torn and weak- ened so many of our churches. He sought to keep it a united flock; and it was such. He was free from all unworthy narrowness and exclusiveness. He cared but little for names, and parties, and creeds. " Grace be with all those that love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity," was his heart's perpetual bene- diction. He was sensitively alive to the opinions and feel- ings of others concerning himself. He dehghted greatly in human commendation. He loved to feel himself beloved, and to have the assurance of it re- newed in sensible demonstrations. He accepted with 268 THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. a childlike joy, and treasured with an unforgetting fondness, the proffered tokens of personal affection and esteem. They spake to him from the most dis- tant Past, and revived the pleasure they had at first bestowed. He coveted an immortality in the affec- tions and regard of his fellow-men. He desired to live long and sacredly in their memories. He rejoiced in the anticipation of an honored name. He would have wept at the thought that a stain could rest upon it. It remains to speak of his intellectual character and acquirements ; and of the services which he rendered, and the trusts with which he was honored, apart and away from his pastoral avocations and sphere. Dr. Harris enjoyed no inconsiderable reputation in our community as a man of letters and learning ; and, more especially, for the extent and accuracy of his attainments in some of the branches of biblical the- ology. His familiarity with what is called classical literature, to which his tastes early led him to devote himself, is frequently and pleasingly discoverable in his writings, as it was also in his conversation. He was a most diligent general reader, from his youth upward ; and, with uncommon facilities for so doing in the circumstances of his lot, had accumulated a vast amount of various and valuable information ; which a retentive memory enabled him to hold at his command. His acquaintance with books, and especi- ally with those relating to the subjects of his profes- sion, is thought to have been greater than that of almost any one among us. He was often consulted with regard to authors and treatises, even by those whose reading was by no means limited ; and few, if any, left him, without being gainers by the interview. THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. 269 He was distinguished for a patience and perseverance of investigation, and a laboriousness of research, in relation to all subjects in which he felt an interest ; and particularly, when the results of his labors were for the public eye. This is eminently observable in that work, upon which, it is presumed, more than upon any other, his reputation as a scholar will rest — his Natural History of the Bible, — a work of great value to the critical student, as affording, immediately and in a small compass, information which it might require months and years to obtain elsewhere; while, at the same time, it interests and profits the general reader of the Scriptures, — a work, which, although put forth as a compilation, and is mainly such, is inter- spersed with original suggestions and remarks that have been pronounced by competent judgment, to be among the most valuable of its contents ; — a work which has received high commendation, not only in this country, but also abroad. He has published other works on various subjects, which have been generally well received by the com- munity, and are of an interesting and useful charac- ter. He began in early life, even before his settlement in the ministry, to diffuse through the press the fruits of his reading and meditation, and continued to do so even into old age, — his last publication having been prepared after he left the ministry, and another being in process of preparation when he was called from life. His services have been given to the public, also, in the acceptance of many important trusts, and the faithful performance of the duties imposed by them. For many years, he was a prominent and active mem- 23* 270 THADDEUS MASON HARRIS. ber of several benevolent and literary associations ; and of some, at the time of his death. He has made, it is said, our University his debtor, for laborious and valuable services rendered as chairman of the com- mittee on the Library — presenting, annually, in that capacity, for many years, able and elaborate reports. This sketch of the character and services of Dr. Harris is brief and imperfect ; but brief and imperfect as it is, it is enough to show that there was in him both the ability and disposition to accomplish much beyond the circle, extended as it was, of his parochial duties and responsibilities ; that he has filled a large and important place in the community ; that it has honored him, early and late, with its confidence, as it will long, with its respectful remembrance. MEMOIR JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. John Thornton Kirkland, though not sprung from a family possessed of entailed estates and hereditary honors, could yet point to an ancestry, of which, in a republican and Christian land like this, it might be excusable in any man to be proud. On the maternal side he was a descendant, in the fifth generation, of Captain Miles Standish, the renowned military leader of the Pilgrims, and one of that noble company who in 1620 landed from the Mayflower on the rock at Plymouth. On his father's side he was one of a long line of Christian ministers, the son of one of those in- trepid and self-denying men, who, from the first settle- ment of these shores to the present day, have devoted themselves to the benevolent, but arduous and perilous work of preaching the Gospel to the aboriginal inhabi- tants of this land, " the tawny savage immortals of the desert," as his father called them. On this point he could adopt the words of the great Dr. Mayhew, when reproached by Seeker, the Archbishop of Can- terbury, for his poverty and lowly birth. " I am, indeed, even literally, the poor son of a good man, who spent a long life and his patrimony in the humble 274 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. and laborious, though apostolical employment of preaching the unsearchable riches of Christ to poor Indians." Daniel Kirkland, (or Kirtland,) the grandfather of the President, was born in Saybrook, Connecticut, in 1701, and was graduated at Yale College, in 1720. On the 10th of December, 1723, he was ordained the first pastor of the third Congregational Church in the township of Norwich, Connecticut, in the parish of Newent, which parish was in 1786 incorporated as the present town of Lisbon. He continued the minister of this church for nearly thirty years, when he resign- ed his charge ; and on the 19th of December, 1757, he was settled again in the ministry at Groton, in the same State, which parish he also left in 1758, and re- turned to Newent, where he resided till his death, in May, 1773. A few years since, persons were still living in Norwich who remembered him, and spoke of him as a man of fine talents and ready wit. During the last four years of his life he was supported in part by his son Samuel, the Indian missionary. Samuel Kirkland, the father of the President, was the tenth child and fourth son of Daniel, who had eleven children, and he was born in Norwich, Decem- ber 1st, 1741. He seems to have been early destined for a missionary among the Indians, and accordingly was sent by his father, in 1761, to Moofs Indian Charity School, at Lebanon, in Connecticut, which had been established, in 1754, by the Rev. Dr. Eleazar Wheelock, for the purpose of educating Indian youth, and qualifying them to go forth as teachers among their own tribes in conjunction with young English preachers educated at the same school. Here he JOHN THORNTON KIRKLANU. 275 made some proficiency in the Mohawk language, learning it of a young native, who was his fellow- student. In 1762, he entered the Sophomore class at the College in Princeton, New Jersey, " for the sake of better advantage for some parts of learning," where he received a degree in 1765. On the 20th of November, 1764, he set off for the country of the Senecas, one of the Six Nations of In- dians, in the interior of the State of New York, in order to learn their language and prepare the way for a mission among them. No missionary had ever be- fore dared to venture among that remote and savage tribe ; and Dr. Wheelock said at the time, " this bold adventure of his, considered in all the circumstances of it, is the most extraordinary of the kind I have ever known." He stopped on liis way at Sir William Johnson's, whose influence over the Indians is well known, where he was obliged to remain till January 17th, waiting for a convoy, and then set out accompa- nied by two Seneca Indians, as guides. In a letter to Dr. Wheelock, he says, " It is said to be a very great and dangerous undertaking to venture into those parts. Perhaps I may be killed in my first attempt." The hardships he endured, and the perils he en- countered in this expedition, are almost incredible. The weather was excessively cold, and the snow more than four feet deep. He travelled on snow-shoes, with his pack of provisions on his back, upwards of two hundred miles into the wilderness, where there was no path or house, and after a march of seventeen days, arrived on the 3d of February at a Seneca town, called Canasadaga. Soon after his arrival a famine ensued. For two months Mr Kirkland lived without 276 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. bread, flesh, or salt, subsisting on small fish, roots, acorns, and pounded corn. Two or three times he was obliged to journey on foot to the Mohawk river, a distance of two hundred miles, to procure a little bread to keep himself from starving ; and several times his life was in imminent danger from the sava- ges. After remaining among the Senecas a year and a half, he returned to Lebanon on the 24th of May, 1766, accompanied by the chief warrior of the tribe. On the 19th of June, he was ordained at Lebanon, and on the 7th of July started on a new mission among the Oneidas, with whom he live'd and labored forty years, the residue of his life. He established himself at Kanonwarohare, their principal village, the New Oneida Castle, as it was called, six miles distant from Old Oneida, and about fifteen south of the Oneida Lake. Here he built a house, cutting and drawing the timber, and digging the cellar, twelve feet square and six feet deep, with his own hands ; and with the aid of his Indians he cut out and made a road, thirteen miles long, towards Fort Stanwix, afterwards called Fort Schuyler, on the Mohawk. Here, too, he suffered extreme hardships and privations, and was several limes nigh perishing from fatigue, hunger, and exhaust- ion. For eight weeks he ate no meat, and was obliged to travel with the Indians to the Oneida Lake to catch fish for subsistence. " My poor people," he writes to Dr. Wheelock, July 13, 1767, " are almost starved to death. I am grieved at the heart for them. I would myself be glad of an opportunity to fall upon my knees for such a bone as I have often seen cast to the dogs." His life too was in constant jeopardy from the capri- cious temper and violent passions of the savages, JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 277 especially when they were intoxicated ; and this kept him in a state of unceasing anxiety and alarm. Noth- ing but his deep interest in his holy work could have sustained him under his accumulated trials and perils. " Glad should I be," he writes, " if it were consistent, to resign my commission. But I had rather die than leave these poor creatures alone in their miserable condition. I beg, for God's sake, the Gospel may be supported amongst them as it ought to be, for a trial." On the 20th of September, 1769, he married Miss Jerusha Bingham, daughter of Jabez Bingham, of Salisbury, Connecticut, and a niece of Dr. Wheelock ; and immediately returned with his wife to an unfin- ished log-hut in the wilderness, which he had com- menced building the previous spring, and which, as he informs us, was " sixteen feet square, with a bed-room adjoining eight feet square." Here they were alone among the Indians, and " their accommodations" he tells us, " were very indifferent." After passing the win- ter in the Indian village, Mrs. Kirkland went in June, on horseback, to the residence of a friend. General Her- kimer, at Little Falls, on the Mohawk, in what is now the town of Herkimer, in Herkimer county, where she remained nineteen weeks ; and there the subject of this Memoir, with a twin brother, George White- field, was born, on the 17th of August, 1770. He received the name of John Thornton from his father's regard for a pious and wealthy English gentleman of that name, celebrated for his philanthropy, who took a great interest in the Indian missions, and was Treas- urer of the Board of Trustees established in London to receive donations for Dr. Wheelock's School. That Mr. Thornton had a personal regard for Mr. Kirkland 24 278 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. appears from a letter dated August 3d, 1772, in which he speaks of having " received a library from worthy Mr. Thornton." Soon afterwards Mrs. Kirkland returned with her children to Oneida, where she lived till they were two years old. The country then became disturbed. War was apprehended ; and it being then uncertain which side the Indians would take in the impending conflict, it was deemed unsafe to remain any longer among them. Mrs. Kirkland accordingly took her children with her to Windham, in Connecticut, her mother's native place. In November, 1772, she re- ceived a donation of fifty pounds sterling from the Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowl- edge, to purchase a comfortable residence. She being pleased with Stockbridge, in Massachusetts, her hus- band bought a small house and farm in that town, it being then the nearest English settlement to the Hud- son river. Here John Thornton lived till he went to Andover. He had no school education except such as was common in a frontier village at that early period, which of course was very little and very poor. This Avant, however, was supplied by the instructions of his excellent mother, to whom, as we shall presently see, he was most tenderly and devotedly attached. His father being necessarily absent from home most of the lime on his missionary labors and soliciting benefac- tions for the Indians, the care of the children devolved almost entirely on her. At the age of three years he received a kick from a horse, the scar of which, inden- ted on the centre of his broad forehead, he carried with him through life, a striking and not unbecoming JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 279 mark, which every one who knew him must have observed, and will always remember. This blow on the seat of thought and intelligence naturally excited the tender anxieties of his mother's heart, and made her particularly Avatchful and solicitous about this son. He manifested an early propensity for books, and even then would rather sit in a corner and read than go out and play with his more active and adventurous brother. He had, too, the same sweetness of temper and amia- bleness of disposition that distinguished him in after life. A lady now living at Northampton, who went to school in Stockbridge Avith the young Kirklands, relates that John Thornton "gave early indications of talent, was a very good scholar, of a pleasant disposi- tion, and much beloved." In March, 1781, at the age of thirteen, he was brought by his father to Andover, in this State, and placed in Phillips Academy, then under the care of the late Dr. Eliphalet Pearson. His father not having the means to support and educate his son, he was kindly received into the family of the Hon. Samuel Phillips, afterwards Lieutenant Governor of the Common- Avealth, who gave him his board and paid for his tuition. A fellow-student at the Academy, who was intimate with him, remarks that "he recollects him as being of a pleasant disposition, with qualities natu- rally endearing." After spendmg two years at Andover, he was admitted, on the 4th of April, 1786, at the age of fifteen, into the Freshman Class of Harvard College, in advanced standing, " he paying into the College treasury the sum of eleven pounds and five shillings, the Government requiring the lowest sum that the law 280 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. will permit, on account of his father's peculiar circum- stances." In the winter vacation of 1787, being a Junior, and only sixteen years old, instead of going to keep school, as was his first intention, and as is the course usually pursued by indigent students in the University, he en- listed for thirty days as a volunteer in the little army of forty-four hundred men, which Avas raised and placed under the command of General Lincoln, to put down the formidable insurrection of Shays. This was not a mere juvenile or college freak, as might at first be supposed, but the expression of that true and ardent patriotism, that earnest and devoted attachment to our republican institutions, which characterized him through life. He felt, as Mr. Ames and our other patriots did, that this rebellion must instantly be put down, at all haz- ards, and without terms or stipulations ; else the gov- ernment was at an end, our independence had been achieved in vain, and treason, faction, and anarchy would be triumphant. After a brief and successful campaign he returned to his studies at Cambridge. Those of his class-mates who survive him, and others who were his contemporaries in college, speak of him as then possessing those peculiar qualities of mind and heart which in after life gained for him celebrity, and secured to him universal esteem and affection. It has been stated by one of his class-mates, now living, that " he came uncommonly well prepared- for admission, and with a high reputation for scholarship, which he fully sustained through his college life, receiving his due proportion of honors in parts assigned him at the Quarterly Exhibitions. He was highly respected by his class, and by all who knew him. His heart was JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 281 warm and sincere." Another of his surviving class- mates says, that " he shared, to an nncommon degree, the affection and confidence of his class-mates. He was entirely free from jealousy and envy, rejoiced in the success of others, and delighted to commend them. No one of their number was considered by them equally distinguished for his facility in classical acquirements, and promptness and accuracy in his recitations. He particularly excelled in the Latin and metaphysical departments." Another member of the class, who enjoyed his intimate friendship for years, has described "the cheerfulness and vivacity, for which he was characterized through the whole term of his active life, which conciliated the affections of his class, and gained for him a high place in their esteem and confidence. At an early stage of his collegiate course an apprehension Avas indulged lest he had not the strength of intellect and of moral principle which would fortify him against the temptations to which, at that age and in that place, youths are peculiarly ex- posed. This apprehension was soon dispelled. His native sense of propriety and virtue, his love of lite- rary distinction, and his purpose to become fitted for future usefulness, awakened in him correct views of the dangers of the scene, and prompted him to a regu- lar and steadfast application to his appropriate duties. He gradually obtained and permanently secured a high standing in the class. He was thought by his class-mates to be most distinguished for his attain- ments in the languages and in the metaphysical depart- ment. At the close of our term at Cambridge, there was such a fixed and general persuasion of the good- ness of his disposition, the rectitude of his principles, 24* 282 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. and his high promise of future eminence, that I can confidently assure you he was of the number who had obtained the highest standing in the estimation of his contemporaries." He was graduated in 1789, with distinguished honors, at the age of nineteen. This is the place to introduce a brief biographical sketch written by himself, " begun," as he says, " Au- gust, 1789, a little after I graduated at Harvard Uni- versity." " To review the past, that we may more wisely plan our future conduct, is certainly proper and natu- ral. The past time of my life appears almost a blank upon review, except a few heavy misfortunes and prosperous occurrences, which serve as resting-places to the memory, and make the recollection interesting. " The years of my childhood have passed swiftly and sweetly away. Recollection paints them in the most charming colors. All was innocence, enjoyment, and hope, except now and then a disappointment in my juvenile pastimes, or a parental chastisement, cast a temporary gloom over my mind. But I am led to conclude that in those periods of my life my means of happiness were more exactly proportioned to my capacity of enjoyment, than now. I was not then haunted with anxieties and fears, nor sighing after a thousand unattainable enjoyments. I was not then corrupted by vice, nor vitiated by art. Early taught to repress unreasonable desires, and seek dehght from the pleasures of a good conscience, the love and es- teem procured by an amiable, decorous, and manly deportment, I wished no other satisfaction. I recol- lect how my heart throbbed with virtuous emulation ; and the applause and preference I received for excel- JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 283 ling, and the love which others bore me for my good nature and condescension, filled me with tumultuous palpitations, and gave rise to a very keen and restless ambition. This continually increased in me from my first attempts upon elementary learning, at four years old, till I left Andover Academy at fifteen, to enter Harvard College, in May, 1786. " At this Academy, under the present Professor Pearson, for whom, though generally disliked, I had a sincere respect, I was diligent in my studies and regular in my behaviour. He was so obliging as to call me the best scholar, but one, that he ever had. . In about two years after I went to the Academy, j entered the Freshman Class, the last quarter. While there, [at Andover] I never associated with the loose or unprincipled. I cultivated very assiduously the friendship of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, to whose gene- rosity I was indebted for a year's board and schooHng, and endeavoured to be obliging and agreeable to all. I left it for the University with such promising symp- toms, as Avell as considerable acquisitions, that my friends entertained great expectations concerning me. " I had not been long in college before I began to relax in principle and conduct. My class was large, and a spirit of buckism was very universally prevalent among them. I did not, however, lose my thirst for knowledge or sense of honor, and thought I studied as much as I had time to do. I went into and received more company, however, than was necessary ; though those who were good scholars, and reputed the most choice lads, were as dissipated as myself. The impu- tation of a plodder was deprecated above all things ; so we often used to spend the day in pleasure and the 284 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. night in study. I was not so irregular in this respect as some ; but felt myself so criminal that I was always promising myself a complete reformation, the next week, the next quarter, or the next year. But this did not take place ; though except two or three times, I was never punished for absence from college exer- cises. Though my class were pleased to call me their best Latin scholar, though I was several times distin- guished by appointments from the Government, and though I had some praise for my English composition, I was never so completely devoted to my studies as I ought to have been. I wasted much time, much money, some virtue, and some health. For some irregularities I incurred my father's displeasure, and fell far short of his wishes or expectations in every thing. " For the first part of ray college life, I was as hap- py as perhaps any one ever was for so long a time together. Naturally sanguine, hope supplied each want of enjoyment. One misfortune befell me in my Junior year, which this world can never repair. My mother, on January 23d, 1788, died. The highest pleasure I could enjoy was that of pleasing her ; and her influence over me was so great that I never devi- ated from rectitude without feeling myself particularly culpable on her account. Her affection to her child- ren was as great as her sensibihty was exquisite. She seldom spoke of their welfare without tears, nor ever remitted her exertions to promote it. She found her chief consolation, under every sorrow and disap- pointment, in religion. In the doctrines and promises of Christianity she had an unshaken faith ; its pre- cepts were her delight, and their practice her orna- JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 285 ment. In her expiring moments she felt its support- ing power. When she perceived the hand of death ready to snatch her, she bid a calm farewell to her surrounding friends, and with joyful confidence com- mitted her spirit to her Saviour. May her early and constant instructions, her earnest exhortations to good- ness, her excellent example, and triumphant death, be indelibly impressed on the minds of her children, and form the directory of their lives. Go, gentle spirit, to thy native region, and join the kindred throng of raptured spirits in bliss, to hymn the praises of the great Creator. Thy genial virtues shall jfiourish in immortal vigor, and thy reward be vast as thy desires and lasting as thy existence." Here end these simple and touching Confessions, disclosing to us as frankly the secrets of his heart, and the foibles of his early life, as those of Augustine and Rousseau ; but in tones far more impressive than the vehement and impassioned expressions of the one, or the burning and thrilling words of the other. This fragment, it is obvious, was written to be seen by no one, and its statements are no doubt the overcharged and deeply colored language of a tender and sensitive conscience. His surviving classmates can remember nothing in his college life that would leave the least stain on its moral purity. Immediately after Commencement, which that year was celebrated on the 15th of July, he returned to Andover, where he spent a year as an Assistant in the Academy, then under the charge of Dr. Ebenezer Pemberton. Four letters written in the course of this year, are preserved, which display the germs of his peculiar style and character of thought, and reveal his 286 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. feelings at the time, and his purposes and plans for the future. It appears from these letters that he had not then decided on the choice of a profession, but was yet wavering between Divinity and Law. In one of these letters, dated October 21st, and written to a class-mate, he says, " I enjoy but little here ; neither do I suffer much. No incidents or vicissitudes agitate my breast. The obscure and even tenor of my days originates but few sentiments. I endeavour to keep advancing ; knowing that I shall be no sooner stationary, than I shall become retrograde. I gain some upon my disquietude ; and after I have practised acquiescence and fortitude for a time, I become a more easy companion to myself and others. The most comfortable method I can find of bafflina: disappointment is not to feel it. I never mean to be enslaved by inveterate habits or local attachments. My fortune may, but / cannot change. I des| ise to be preyed upon by imaginary sorrows. When I droop, it shall be under the powerful pressure of real calamity, not the little imfavorable incidents of com- mon life, nor the insignificant whimseys of common men. Heaven knows what is to become of me. I am at present thrust into obscurity, and confined to a very htimble occupation. It is as good, however, as I deserve, or am capable of. If I emerge, it will not be to court public applause or toil for power." In another letter, dated September 19th, addressed to his class-mate and friend, William Emerson, after- wards pastor of the First Church in Boston, he says, " I cannot find in myself a prepossession in favor of Divinity ; nor do I expect to relish all the drudgeries or be equal to all the labors and fatigues of the Law. JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 287 la Divinity, I love the peace, innocent studies, and domestic pleasures of the clergyman ; but I fear the languor, excessive confinement, and gloomy restraints of him. In Law I love and admire the argumentative and eloquent debate, the wide scope for exerting the powers of judgment and imagination, and the virtues of integrity and patriotism ; but I dread the arduous competition for a trifling preeminence, the dry and sometimes low subjects of dispute, and the oppressive tendency of the profession ; besides the inequality of my circumstances to the expense of a suitable educa- tion, and the insufficiency of my talents to the acqui- sition of the necessary merit. I am in a stationary condition at present, and a decisive choice may be suspended a while. I have not much time for private use, in my employment. Eight hours are devoted to my academical labors, and the rest is but little more than sufficient for necessary recreation and refresh- ment. I almost pant for a release already. But I am endeavouring to model my temper and conduct accord- ing to the Christian standard, and to banish from my breast all fruitless anxiety about future acquisitions and pleasures." In a second letter to the same friend, dated June 16th, 1790, he writes, " I scarcely know what has become of the time that has passed since I saw you ; so gentle and sleepy is the current of my days here, that I do not notice its rapidity. I do not care, how- ever, how insensibly the time goes between this and Commencement. My purgatorial torments will, I expect, be then at an end, and a region more favora- able to my enjoyment be allotted me to dwell in. I am to go home to Stockbridge, and study Divinity a 288 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. few months ; at the end of which I shall immediately decide, and act upon the ultimate course of my life. As I am now bent to Law, I dislike the scheme of being kept any longer from it. I am not instigated in my choice by any of that foolish ambition, which used to devour us so at college, nor by any want of regard to the affairs of a future life. That love of glory which does not comprehend the whole of our existence, is madness ; and that virtue which does not spring from religion, is nothing but impious pride. I mean not to give up my claim to another life by attending to the concerns of this, but to make sure of it by acting ever with a view to an all-important futurity. You would laugh, I think, to see me here on my academical throne ; sometimes mild and patient, sometimes rough and vengeful ; now frowning terror, now smiling be- nignity. By habit and reflection I am become supe- rior to the vexations of my employment. When I rule, I shall govern upon a very different system from what is pursued here. A patient and tame spirit is what I now want, which is no easy acquisition, and I hope never again to have any such necessity for it as this. I am not, on some accounts, sorry for having engaged in this business awhile. It has taught me to guard against the sallies of temper, and to acquire a constancy and serenity of soul." In another letter, dated October 17th, addressed to his friend and class-mate, Stephen Palmer, afterwards the minister of Needham, he writes, " I am at present unfavorably situated for literary progress. The vexa- tions of impertinence, puerilities, and noise in the Academy, are enough to waste my spirits, and unfit me for any but amusing studies, novels, newspapers, JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 289 and the like. I feel the deepest regret at the irrevoca- ble waste I made of collegiate hours. I used then to lament, and resolve, but never reform. You know I was ever dreaming of greatness, but never using the means to attain it. If I judge aright, we have a field before us. The Church and State are open. This is the theatre for political experiments. I wish it may be for moral. The manners of our country are lamentably luxurious, and its morals corrupted ; public spirit decayed, and the simplicity, manliness, and hardihood of character, which become republi- cans, and are necessary to its felicity, have given place to the refinements and effeminacy of old and bloated countries, which can neither be made much better nor much worse." After leaving Andover in July, 1790, he went home, as he purposed, to Stockbridge, where he studied Divinity for a while with the Rev Dr. Stephen West, the minister of the place, a man somewhat distin- guished in his day, as the author of "An Essay on Moral Agency ; " and who,^at a time when there were no theological institutions in the country, was accus- tomed to receive young men into his family and pre- pare therti for the ministry. The high Hopkinsian doctrines of Dr. West were not very congenial to the mind of his pupil. In a letter written from Stock- bridge to his class-mate Palmer, he says, " I have been trying to learn a little Divinity. All has been dark- ness and doubt. Hopkintonian snbtilties have puz- zled and bewildered me. They certainly attempt to explain what is, in the nature of things, inexplicable, and to carry the mind higher than it will bear to rise without swimming. Here is a little of it. ' God is the 25 290 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. efficient cause of sin ; for every thing that exists must have a cause ; and every cause must be ultimately resolved into the first cause, God.' Is it not true ? If the Hopkintonian notion of liberty and agency can be defended, every thing else which ihey preach may be. Who swallows that, can swallow all. I don't know but I should resolve to be a preacher if I was determined what to preach." It must have been highly gratifying to the youthful theologian to escape from this rigid system of Divinity and return to the place of his education, and again " behold the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies." It should be re- membered that from the very foundation of Harvard University there had always prevailed in that semi- nary a liberal spirit of inquiry on theological subjects. Dr. Colman, the first minister of Brattle-street Church in Boston, in a letter written in 1712 to Dean Ken- net, afterwards Bishop of Peterborough, after stating that he had resided for a time at Oxford and Cam- bridge, mentions " the generous principles of an en- larged catholic spirit, cherished in hi:u by his tutor, Mr. Leverett, now president of Harvard College," and adds, " if I am able to judge, no place of educa- tion can well boast of a more free air than our little College may." Again, in his funeral sermon on the elder Hollis, one of the earliest benefactors of the College, which he preached at the Thursday Lecture, April 1, 1731, before the Great and General Court, and which was printed by their desire and order, he speaks of " the free and catholic air we breathe at our Cambridge, where Protestants of every denomination may have their children educated. " It was by JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 291 means of the theological treasures which a later Hol- lis had contributed to the Library of the University, that Mr. Kirkland was now enabled to pursue that free and independent study of his profession, which led him to embrace more enlarged and just views of reli- gion than those in which he had been trained from his childhood. In company with several congenial minds then engaged in the same pursuit, among whom was his friend Emerson, and others yet among the living, he investigated widely and candidly. The writings of Jortin, James Foster, Tillotson, Lardner, Price, Priest- ley, and other liberal theologians of England, were diligently studied. The Scriptures too were subjected to a close and critical examination, and the results to which they severally came were communicated and discussed with a frank and generous confidence, in the true spirit of Protestantism. In 1792 he made a visit to his father, with whom he spent several months in the neighbourhood of the Oneida Indians. On the 16th of November, in the same year, while still prosecuting his theological stu- dies, he received the appointment of Tutor in the department of Logic and Metaphysics, which office he held till the 14th of January, 1794. There is still in existence the original manuscript of a very remarkable prayer, which he wrote July 6, 1793, just before he began to preach with a view of engaging in the ministry, and which is full of the most solemn thoughts and the most fervent petitions. Among other ministerial gifts and graces he asks for those by which he was afterwards so eminently dis- tinguished. " Let my intellectual endowments," he prays, " be adequate to the mighty work. Not only 292 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. in piely and morals, in learning and knowledge, but in prudence and sagacity, may I be found accom- plished. Let me judge rightly of the characters of men ; that I may know how best to adapt to them my public discourses and private behaviour. Let me know the avenues to the heart, and be able to reach its last recesses by the searching words of truth." Many will think that this prayer was fully answered. Mr. Kirkland preached, for the first time, in the New South Church, in Boston, August 23d, 1793. On the 13lh of October the Society recommended to the Church to invite him to take the pastoral charge over them ; and on the 23d he was chosen by the Church unanimously as their pastor, which was con- curred in by the Society on the 27th of the same month. His letter accepting the call is dated Decem- ber 1st, 1793, and his Ordination took place on the 5th of Fi'bruary, 1794. The sermon Avas preached by the Rev. Dr. Tappan, Mollis Professor of Divinity, and some idea of the reputation with which Mr. Kirkland entered the ministry, and the expectations ■which he had excited, may be gathered from some passages of that sermon. " I felicitate you," said Dr. Tappan, addressing the candidate, " on the distinguished honor which Provi- dence has done you in crowning your probationary services from the desk with the early voice of general approbation, and in directing the first destitute society which has had the opportunity of enjoying them to so united an election of you to the pastoral office. I congratulate you that your destined lot is cast in this ancient and respectable metropolis, which concen- tres so large a portion of American learning and JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 293 information, refinement and magnificence." And in addressing the people he said, " my respected breth- ren of this church and congregation, we gratefully participate with you in the joy of this day. The ami- able disposition, the intellectual and moral improve- ments of your pastor elect have long recommended him to those who have known both his earlier and malurer years. These accomplishments, joined with his knowledge of human nature and Christian divinity, form a happy presage of his future usefulness and honor as a Gospel minister. At the same time his youthful age, his delicate sensibilities, and his arduous employment, solicit your candid and tender indul- gence." His venerable father, in delivering to him the sol- emn Charge, said to him with a kind of prophetic vision, " You are a son of prayers and of vows. May God Almighty bless you ; and may you increase whilst I decrease, and shine many years as a bright star in the Redeemer's hand when I, your natural father, am set, and seen no more." Mr. Kirkland was now placed in an eminent posi- tion, and had a wide and noble sphere for the exercise of his powers ; for whatever may be said in praise of other stations, there is, for a man of superior talents, no higher place, no wider or nobler sphere of influ- ence than the Pulpit, in an enlightened and religious community. He soon drew around him an inteUi- gent and discriminating congregation, in which were some of the leading men of the times, who hung with profound attention on his lips, and whom he fed with " wisdom and knowledge and understanding." His preaching was characterized by an affluence and pro- 25* 294 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. fundily of thought, and was highly prized by those who possessed corresponding qualities. Yet at the same time that he met the wants of the thoughtful and enlightened, he was equally acceptable to the less informed. He expressed his views so clearly that every one could comprehend them. A truly great man never has to condescend to any portion of his audience. If he really has thought in him, if his views are well formed and distinct, he need be under no apprehension that the people Avill not understand him. Their native sense will grasp whatever he has to offer that is worth grasping. So early and rapid was the growth of Mr. Kirk- land's professional reputation, that in the year 1802, irj the thirty-second year of his age, and when he had been but eight years in the ministry, he received the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity from the Col- lege at Princeton, in New Jersey. At no time, indeed, did he enjoy the equivocal and undesirable reputation of being a popular preacher, as it is called, — the talk of the town, run after to-day, and deserted to-morrow for a new comer, a later favorite, whose preaching sounds to the people " as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice." As a sermonizer and pulpit orator he certainly was not to be compared with the illustrious Buckminster, who entered on the ministry eleven years after him ; and where is the man that has appeared in the American or the English Pulpit in modern times who could be advantageously compared with him ? As he himself once said, Mr. Buckminster introduced a new era in preaching. But in his day, and for a long period, Dr. Kirkland stood without a competitor in his profession. JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 295 Probably no minister ever wielded in this community such a powerful and salutary, but at the same time unobtrusive and noiseless influence. For sixteen years, from 1794 to 1810, — a transitive and pregnant period in our history — he exercised a moral control which can hardly be conceived of by those who did not live at that period, and who are not acquainted with the feverish and agitated state of the public mind that then existed, growing out of the peculiar state of the times. Society was then heaving all around, and "seemed as though it were about to heave its institu- tions from their basis. The country had not yet re- covered' from the shock which the Revolutionary War had inflicted on its morals ; and the infidel philosophy and the loose principles which accompanied the out- break of the French Revolution, were just beginning to be introduced here, and were turning the heads, infecting the minds, and corrupting the hearts of the people. It Avas not a time for declamation and fine writing, but for the sober views and sound principles and calm statements which Dr. Kirkland's Avisdom and good sense, and knowledge of mankind, were so well able to furnish. The minds of men needed to be instructed and tranquillized, and to be confirmed in the great fundamental principles of religion and morals. Dr. Kirkland addressed himself to this work with sin- gular discretion and judgment, and by his words of truth and soberness, in the pulpit and out of it, ren- dered a service to this community which can now be hardly understood or estimated, but which ought never to be forgotten. There may have been at different times in this city other preachers more eloquent, more imaginative, more popular, but never any more sound, more instructive, more useful than he. 296 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. Dr. Kirkland produced the effect which has been spoken of, not only directly from the pulpit, but indi- rectly through that large body of intelligent laymen Avhich he had gathered around him, or with whom he habitually associated. He lived on the most intimate terms with all the leading men of his time in this part of the country — with Ames, and Cabot, and Parsons, and Gore, and Lowell, and Prescott, and Quincy. His society was courted by them ; for he threw a charm over every circle by his urbanity and benevo- lence. They saw his thorough knowledge of man- kind, they had unbounded confidence in his integrity, they appreciated his sound judgment and good sense. They regarded him as a wise priest, the wisest of his tribe, and as a true patriot, who desired to promote the moral and real good of the people. They saw that " light, and understanding, and wisdom, and knowledge, and an excellent spirit, were in him." They were therefore willing and ready to exercise their powers and exert their influence in cooperation with him, and in furtherance of the views and princi- ples which he approved and inculcated. Dr. Kirkland was a mighty moralist, and as an eth- ical preacher had no equal. He possessed a thorough, intimate, marvellous knowledge of man. " He was a great observer, and he looked Quite through the deeds of men." He sounded the lowest depths of the soul, and searched its most obscure recesses. He detected men's hidden motives and secret principles of action, and dragged them forth to the light. He laid bare the human heart, and dissected its minutest fibres. He revealed the sinner to himself, brought up afresh and JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 297 disclosed to him what he had forgotten or concealed, and startled and terrified him by the view of his own soul. He tracked him through all his mazes, and stripped him of all his subterfuges and disguises. He left him no apology for doing wrong, no excuse for being a bad man. Such was his wonderful and accu- rate knowledge of human nature, and his clear insight into the springs of human action, that sometimes, when he was preaching, it seemed that he had actu- ally got his hand into your bosom, and that you could feel him moving it about and inserting his fingers into all the interstices and crevices of your heart. Dr. Kirkland uttered great moral maxims and pro- found religious truths without any parade or prepara- tion, without forewarning his hearers that he was now going to bring forward some great thought, or some new view, and without reminding them afterwards that he had done so. He was apparently unconscious and careless of those profound sayings of his which contained a world of practical wisdom. He was remarkable, too, for the comprehensiveness of his views, and the universality of his judgments. He generalized on a large scale, and generalized every thing. He took a broad and liberal view of all sub- jects, and had a world-embracing philosophy as well as charity. He could not endure details, and cared little for isolated facts. He wished always to see their connection, and to trace out their relation and bearing on other facts. Seldom would you meet with a man who in social intercourse said so many things w^orthy to be remembered, and made so many remarks that you could not forget. His conversation was a succes- sion of aphorisms, maxims, general remarks. As Chaucer describes his clerk of Oxenford, ' 298 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. "Not a word spake he more than was need; And that was said in form and reverence, And short and quick, and full of high sentence. Sounding in moral virtue was his speech, And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach." Dr. Kirkland's preaching was of the same character with his conversation. It was sententious and full of apophthegms. There was not much visible logic or induction in his discourses. The description which he gives of Mr. Ames's writings is strikingly applicable to his own. " When the result of his researches was exhibited in discourse, the steps of a logical process were in some measure concealed by the coloring of rhetoric. It was the prerogative of his mind to dis- cern by a glance, so rapid as to seem intuition, those truths which common capacities struggle hard to appre- hend. His style is conspicuous for sententious brevity, for antithesis, and point. Single ideas appear with so much lustre and prominence, that the connection of the several parts of his discourse is not always obvi- ous to the common mind, and the aggregate impression of the composition is not always completely obtained. His learning seldom appeared as such, but was inter- woven with his thoughts, and became his own." There was little apparent method, arrangement, or connection in Dr. Kirkland's preaching ; — so that it was not uncommon for him to bring into the pulpit half a dozen sermons or more, and, on the instant, constrijct from their pages a new sermon as he went along, turning the leaves backwards and forwards, and connecting them together by the thread of his extem- poraneous discourse. These scattered leaves resem- bled those of the Sibyl, not only in their confusion, causing many to marvel how he could marshal and manage them so adroitly, but also in their deep and JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 299 hidden wisdom, and in the fact that when two thirds of what he had thus brought into the pulpit was omit- ted, — thrown by as unworthy of delivery, — the re- maining third which he uttered Avas more precious than the entire pile of manuscript, containing, as it did, the spirit and essence, the condensed and concen- trated wisdom of the whole. Condensation, indeed, was his crowning faculty. It was here especially that he manifested the supremacy of his intellect. He always spoke from a crowded and overflowing mind. Although he said so much, you felt that there was much more behind unsaid. He poured himself forth in a full stream of thought, which evidently flowed from a living and inexhaustible fountain. Chief Justice Parsons used to say that Dr. Kirkland put more thought into one sermon than other ministers did into five. A single sermon of his would sometimes contain a whole body of divinity. And how much weight and wisdom were there even in sin- gle sentences of his Avritings, as when in his Life of Ames he says, " he did not need the smart of guilt to make him virtuous, nor the regret of folly to make him wise ; " and when in the same work he says, " the admission of danger implies duty ; and many refuse to be alarmed, because they wish to be at ease." Dr. Kirkland had the rare faculty, in his preaching, of intimating and suggesting much more than he directly inculcated and affirmed. This enabled him to insinuate unpalatable truths into men's minds without their taking offence, nay, almost without their perceiv- ing it. One of the most remarkable instances of this sort was the sermon which he delivered in 1813 before the Massachusetts Convention of Congregational Min- 300 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. isters. At this time the controversy between the two theological parties which divided the Commonwealth, was waxing warm, although it had not yet reached its height. Standing as he did, from his high office, at the head of the clergy, it was proper, it was right, that he should be selected to address them, and it was incumbent and imperative on him to accept the appointment, and discourse, too, on those very dispu- ted points that were uppermost in their minds. This was a very difficult and delicate task. Dr. Kirkland had too much of Christian courtesy and gentleness intentionally or heedlessly to offend any by the utter- ance of obnoxious sentiments. But at the same time he was too faithful to his Master and to his conscience to keep back what he deemed the truth. Accordingly, on this occasion, he expressed his views and senti- ments fully and distinctly ; the sermon contained the whole pith and marrow of liberal divinity ; and at the same time, without directly mentioning any of the tenets of the opposite theology, he undermined them completely, and brushed them away like cobwebs. And all this was done in such a manner that no one could take offence, or complain that his feelings were wounded, or that his sentiments were misrepresented, or rudely and harshly handled. Both as a preachei" and pastor, Dr. Kirkland, by his whole spirit and bearing, made religion lovely and attractive, particularly to the intelligent, the refined, and the young. He stripped it of its stiff and formal costume, its gloomy and forbidding look, and its austere and repellant manners. He taught men by his conversation and deportment, quite as much as by his preaching, confirming and illustrating the beau- JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 301 tiful remark of Hooker, that, " the life of a pious cler- gyman is visible rhetoric." We come now to regard Dr. Kirkland as a man of letters. " Light, and understanding, and wisdom, and knowledge, were found in him." " He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding- wise, fair spoken, and persuading." At the outset, however, it is readily admitted that he was not a very profound or thorough student. His stock of erudition was not large. His reading had not been systematic, but desultory. He was rather a general scholar, than deeply versed in any particular department. He had gleaned from a wide field, and gathered fruits and flowers from the whole circuit of elegant learning ; but he had never digged down into any dark mine of science or letters. He loved the light and the sunshine of learning. He was not a pro- ficient in any of the natural or exact sciences, nor an adept in abstruse philosophy. He was not a mere metaphysician, or a mere mathematician, a logic-mill, or calculating machine. He was no antiquary or geol- ogist — no pedant or literary drudge. But he was something more than these — something far higher and better. He knew as much of every subject as it became a Christian preacher and gentleman to know. But no single subject had engrossed his attention, and monopolized his thoughts, and narrowed and cramped his mind. Dr. Kirkland's favorite study, the one in which he excelled, and had made the greatest proficiency, was unquestionably Ethics ; and his favorite writer in this department was Abraham Tucker, the ingenious au- 26 302 JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. ihor of " The Light of Nature Pursued." He loved to grapple with hard problems in casuistry and untie knotty questions in morals. He. was emphatically a moralist in the widest sense of that term. He thought with Dr. Johnson, that " the knowledge of external nature, and the sciences which that knowledge re- quires or includes, are not the great or the frequent business of the human mind. Whether we provide for action or conversation, whether we wish to- be use- ful or pleasing, the first requisite is the religious and moral knowledge of right and wrong ; the next is an acquaintance with the history of mankind, and with those examples which may be said to embody truth, and prove by events the reasonableness of opinions. Prudence and justice are virtues and excellencies of all times and of all places ; we are perpetually moral- ists, but we are geometricians only by chance. Our intercourse with intellectual nature is necessary ; our speculations upon matter are voluntary and at leisure. Physiological learning is of such rare emergence, that one may know another half his life, without being able to estimate his skill in hydrostatics or ae^tronomy ; but his moral and prudential character immediately ap- pears. We were not placed here to watch the growth of plants or the motions of the stars, but to learn how to do good and avoid evil." Although Dr. Kirkland was never a close and plod- ding student, yet, somehow or other, he always knew what was going on in the world of letters, and was v^^ell informed about the latest discoveries in science and the arts, and the most recent productions in litera- ture. No subject could be started on which he could not readily converse and express a disihict and correct JOHN THORNTON KIRKLAND. 303 opinion. He acquired his knowledge by intercourse and conversation with intelligent and learned men, rather than from books. He had, too, the faculty of getting all the good out of a book by rapidly turning over its leaves and running his eye over its pages, without reading it in course from beginning to end. Although he did not go regularly through the process of perusal, yet he always obtained the results which the process was intended to subserve. By a sort of literary intuition he got at what the author meant, and what his book was designed to teach. — And is not this, after all, the true learning ? What we desire to know, is not the process, but the results. We do not wish to pry into the machinery, and see how the wheels interlock, and the various parts act upon each other. What we want chiefly to see is the design, and the work which the machinery accomplishes. We do npt desire to look at man with the eye of an anato- mist, but with the eye of an artist. We do not care to see the muscles and the nerves laid bare, and the bony skeleton hung before us. We want to see the flesh pal- pitating, as it were, upon the canvas, and the beautiful outline and graceful figure brought out from the mar- ble. The object of learning is not to make pedants and critics, but enlightened, judicious, reasonable beings. The aim of education is not to form gram- marians and mathematicians, but to prepare youth for the various walks of professional and practical life. It was the precept of a Spartan king, that " the child should be in.