Columbia (Bntftem'tp mtljeCitpofJUrttigork THE LIBRARIES Bequest of Frederic Bancroft 1860-1945 REMINISCENCES, Sketches and Addeesses SELECTED FROM MY PAPERS During a Ministry of Forty-five Years IN MISSISSIPPI, LOUISIANA AND TEXAS. BY EEY. I. E. HUTCHISON D.D. HOUSTON, TEXAS: E. H. GUSHING, PUBLISHER, 1874. o - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by E. H. GUSHING, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at "Washington, / ^^.Sxf- i) c c % Lange, Little & Co., PKINTKES, KLKCTBOTVPERS AND STKBKOTYPEKS. 108 TO 114 WoosTER Street, N. Y. oo]srTE:^Ts PAGE Personal Recollections 7 CPresbyterianism in the Southwest: Origin of Oakland College — Murder of President Cham- berlain 21 ("history of the Church of Bethel and Rodney 29 Physical Science 35 Dueling in Vicksburg 51 The Code of Honor 55 The Dignity of the Ministerial Office 70 History of the Presbyterian Church, Houston, Texas . 84 Rev. J. M. Atkinson 85 Rev. J. W. Miller 85 Rev. L. S. Gibson 85 Rev. Alex. Fairbairn. 86 Rev. Jerome Twichell 86 Rev. R. H. Byers 86 Rev. Thos. Castleton 86 Rev. J. R. Hutchison, D. D 87 Rev. Wm. Somerville 87 Rev. Jno. J. Read 87 The Sabbath 88 A Christmas Story 99 The Hope of the Nation 108 The Glory of the Chltich 117 Universal Benevolence 125 Moral Insanity , . . .136 Love of Money 139 Influence 141 VI CONTENTS. PAGE Semi-Centennial of Presbyterianism in New Orleans . 146 The Services 147 An Historical Paper on the Origin and Growth of Pres- byterianism in the City of New Orleans 147 Reminiscences 168 The Origin and Growth of Preshyterianism in the South- west 173 Texas 183 Indians in Texas 184 The French in Texas 185 The First White Man Lost in Texas 187 The Spaniards in Texas 189 Americans in Texas 191 First American Colony in Texas 194 Galveston Island 196 The Fall of the Alamo 198 Capture and Slaughter of Fannin's Men at Goliad 201 Battle of San Jacinto 205 Religion in Texas 208 Animals of Texas 211 Early Churches in Texas 212 Letter from Nashville : The Texas Dead of Hood's Brigade at the Battle of Franklin 216 PEESONAL EECOLLEOTIONS. During ray long residence in the Southwest, I have often been surprised at the want of interest manifested in the preservation of family reminiscences. Many grandchildren know not where their grandparents came from. An adventurer from the North strays off to this new land of promise, forms new family ties, and finally dies and is buried, and carries to an unmarked grave much which his sons should have been proud to remem- ber and transmit to their posterity. Even titles to land have been forfeited by this neglect of parental or filial oblioation. I have almost literally helped in decipher- ing the dim records of old gravestones to aid Northern claimants to establish heirship to Southern dead men's property. What an unexpected surprise to a descend- ant of Dr. Timothy Dwight, if in some old Georgia cabin were yet to turn up a quaint tin box, containing the long-lost original title-deeds of his father and Gen- eral Lyman to all that rich section of country embrac- ing the city of Natchez and the surrounding region ! But it is in reference to what is more precious than lost land-titles that I would infuse a new spirit into every rising Southern village. Pride of ancestry is as valua- ble at the South as at the North, and should contribute as much in building up a Texan family as a New Eng- land town. I was born in Columbia County, in the State of Penn- sylvania, on the 12th of February, 1807. I am a lineal descendant, by my father's side, of those noble patriots 8 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. who maintained the celebrated siege of Deny, in the north of Ireland, against the combined forces of James of England and the king of France. This siege lasted from December, 1688, to August, 1689. From this dates the " Protestant succession," and William, Prince of Orange, ascended the British throne. The sufferings of the people, during that memorable occasion, equal anything to be found in the records of English history. For several generations after coming to this country, there was preserved in my family a knife with which the original owner, of the name of Hutchison, dug up roots beneath the walls of Derry upon which to subsist during the horrors of that terrible siege. (Read Mac- aulay's England and Charlotte Elizabeth's Sketches.) At what time my family crossed the Atlantic I am unable to say. I think it was in 1732. But my grand- father, Joseph Hutchison, ^vas a native American, and was born in Dauphin County, Pennsylvania, near the spot where now stands the city of Harrisburg, the capital of the State. In early times the Susquehanna, as well as all other Northern rivers, abounded in shad. It was customary, immediately after wheat-harvest, in those days, for neighbors to assemble together, and in a short time, by dragging the seine, to supply their families with fish suffi- cient to last during the ensuing winter. During my grandfather's boyhood, in one of those assemblies of the farmers for fishing, a violent thunderstorm coming up, my great-grandfather took shelter under a tree on a small island opposite where the city of Harrisburg now stands, and was instantly killed by a stroke of light- ning. Soon after the birth of my father, my grandfather and his brother Samuel removed to that part of North- umberland County (Pennsylvania) now called Columbia PERSONAL RECOIJLECTIONS. 9 County, where they purchased a large tract of land on the Cliillisqnuque Greek, near the present village of Washiugtonville, and midway between Danville and Milton. This purchase included Bosley's Mills, where there was a small fort during the Revolutionary AVar. This neighborhood '^vas the scene of many stirring inci- dents in the early settlement of tlie country. I remem- ber, when a child, of hearing many romantic and thrill- ing incidents of border Avarfare and Indian barbarities. Whole settlements were often broken u]), and the in- habitants killed or scattered. It was customary for families, on a sudden incursion of Indians, to hide their most valuable articles of property and flee to some more populous and better defended locality. I have, when a child, seen various articles, such as pots, gridirons, gar- ments, etc., turned up by the plough in my grandfa- ther's field, where they were buried in baste by tlie flee- ing inhabitants. The place of my nativity is about thirty miles south of the valley of Wyoming, the scene of a massacre by Indians and Tories which will be for- ever remembered in the annals of the country. I will here relate an incident which I heard from my mother, and which illustrates the state of the times and the character of the people. At the massacre of Wyo- ming the whole region was aroused and the people fled to the block-houses. My mother, then a small girl, and residing with an aunt, had to flee with the rest. Hungry and exhausted, and gaining a respite from their savage pursuers, she and her young friends supplied themselves with a quantity of red apples, taken from a crib on the wayside which had been abandoned by its owners. When this act of taking the fruit came to the knowledge of the parents and guardians of the children, it was construed into a species of theft, and though in the direction of their Indian pursuers, all were required 10 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. to retrace their steps and replace the apples, and thus run the risk of meeting the Indians. Such a require- ment in a parent or guardian in our day would have been viewed by most persons as a cruel exposure of the life of a child. But in those days children were taught elevated views of morality, and the slightest approach to theft or falsehood was most promptly punished. The effect upon the mind of my mother of this severe test of her courage and obedience was most beneficial, and she often alluded to the incident in her family as exert- ing a happy influence on her character in all subsequent life. My father, Andrew Hutchison, the second son of my grandfather, was a man of fine personal ajDpearance, of medium size, of great muscular activity, and was very popular in his neighborhood. Possessing a better edu- cation than most other young men of his day, his ser- vices were in great demand as a surveyor, a writer of deeds, letters, etc. His earlier days were spent in at- tending the mills of his father and uncle, and towards manhood he was engaged in teaching school. He mar- ried young and settled on a small farm adjoining that of my grandfather. In 1813 he was chosen colonel of a regiment of militia which was ordered to the northern frontier to engage in the war with Great Britain. Though but six years old at the time, I remember every important event that occurred — the frequent mustering of the militia, my father's gay military dress, the patri- otic songs, and many other thrilling incidents of a time of war. At last, my father's departure for Black Rock, my mother's tears, and the adieus of friends are all re- membered. Equally well do I remember my father's return in a short time — his illness, his death, in dead of winter, amid the deep snow, the grave (the first I had ever seen), and the painful impression I long enter- PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. 11 tained of his confinement in the cold ground. The first dead man I ever saw was my father. After my father's death my mother continued to re- side on the same farm, and support and educate her family of five children, the eldest of whom was ten years old. She was a woman of remarkable energy of character. At this distant day, her many virtues, ren- dered prominent by her heroic struggles with compara- tive poverty, stand out before my mind in bold relief. She was a woman of great decision of character, and in great demand as a counselor in the neighborhood. After my father's death (who was a professor of religion and maintained family worship) my mother continued the practice of praying in her family, and maintained it while she lived. She labored faithfully, and often with tears, to impress upon the minds of her children the importance of youthful piety. My earliest and most important religious impressions were produced by her instructions and prayers. She was firm but tender in domestic discipline, often weeping when using the rod, mingling tears with correction. Precious is the memo- ry of my mother. In recalling the scenes and incidents of my childhood, I wish here to record my unbounded admiration of the character of the Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, who were the principal settlers of the middle counties of Pennsyl- vania, and of many other States of the Union. Much has been said, and with justice, of the noble character of the Puritans, the Huguenots, and cavaliers. But the influence which has been exerted upon the nation by the Scotch-Irish element, spread out as it now is throughout Pennsylvania, Western Virginia, the Carolinas, New York, Eastern Mississippi, and all the Western States, can never be fully appreciated. I glory in my descent from such a noble stock. My impression also is that much 12 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. more information was communicated, when I was young, by oral instruction, than at the present time. Old people rehearsed by the fireside the incidents of their early days and what they had heard from their fathers, and the young were eager listeners. Though books and newspapers and traveling afford greater means of impart- ing knowledge now than then, yet I doubt whether youth are better taught in useful things, or have the more important faculties both of mind and heart better developed at the present day than, formerly. My mother died when I was eight years old. " My mother, when I learned that thou wast dead. Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son. Wretch, even then, life's journey just begun ? " Immediately after the death of my mother, our fami- ly (five in number) were scattered among our relatives. I became a member of the family of my uncle, the Eev. John Hutchison, of MifiBlintown, Juniata County (Penn- sylvania). He was the only full brother of my father, by whom I was adopted and educated. He was a supe- rior man in almost every respect. He graduated at Dickinson College (Pennsylvania), under the presidency of the celebrated Dr. Nesbitt. In 1805 he assumed the pastoral charge of the churches of Miffiintown and Lost Creek, where he continued to labor until his death, which took place on the 11th of November, 1844, hav- ing retained the charge of the same churches for thirty- nine years. Few ministers of the Gospel in Central Pennsylvania have lived more honored and died more lamented than he. He was a man of great purity and simplicity — an entertaining companion, a firm friend, a wise counselor, a patient endurer of reproach, and a fearless defender of the faith. He seemed to have pos- PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. 13 sessed an intuitive knowledge of human nature. Tlie motives of men seemed to reveal themselves at once to his view. He was the last man on whom any one could palm an imposition. lie was also famed throughout the country for great neatness and system in all the ordinary affairs of life. His house, his apparel, his do- mestic economy, his traveling equipage, were all e-^res- sive of the order and native sense of propriety which characterized him. His attainments as a scholar and theologian were of a highly respectable order, and for many years he was a prominent member of Hunt- ington Presbytery. Like many of the Presbyterian clergymen of the Northern States, he devoted much of his time and attention to classical studies. His acade- my was known for more than thirty years as the best in all Central Pennsylvania, and his Latin and Greek scholars always took a high position upon entering any of the colleges of the State. A large number of the professional men in the middle counties of Pennsylva- nia were trained under his tuition. At the age of thir- teen I commenced the study of the Latin and Greek languages. When I arrived at the age of seventeen I became his assistant, and thus secured the means of fin- ishing my college course. 1 thus had an opportunity of attaining a degree of accuracy in classical studies which has proved of essential advantage to me in all my subsequent life. I wpuld here remark that, after having been for a long time professor of the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew lan- guages, it is my opinion that better classical scholars Avere made fifty years ago than now. Several causes may be assigned for the present degeneracy: First. In the present day boys are taught too many things in con- nection with languages. Second. The many new gram- mars and new editions of the classics, with their various 14 PERSONAL EECOLLECTIONS. helps, explanations, and English notes, are no real im- provement on the old ones. These modern lielps to study prevent study. Tliird. Teachers have degener- ated. Now, our teachers are young men, nice young men, possessed of great self-esteem, intending to study law or medicine, and making teaching only a stepping- stone to something else. In my early day, teachers were usually Presbyterian ministers, or candidates for the ministry, who loved to teach, who knew how to teach, and who had a reputation to sustain. Fourth. Boys in the present day are more difficult to be taught than formerly. They are not taught as much at home as in former years. Especially, their memories are not drilled, as they once were, by committing to memory the (xeneral Assembly's shorter catechism. Conse- quently, they are not so capable of committing with accuracy the Latin and Greek grammars. I have always noticed that the sons of old-fashioned Presbyterians usually make the best classical scholars. Their superior religious training renders them more susceptible of a thorough classical training. From these and other con- siderations, I am more and more convinced that if we would have better scholarship in our colleges, we must have our youth prepared, not in preparatory schools, but by the pastors of our churches, or in parochial schools under their care. I resided in Mifflintown from 1815 to 1824. Those years constitute the most important period of my life. I can now trace back almost all my habits and my pecu- liarities of character to that period. My residence in my uncle's family imposed upon me the duty of work as well as of study. Gardening, the providing of fire- wood in winter, the care of horses, cows, etc., were, for- tunately for me, combined with intellectual culture, thus giving the best means of developing the powers PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. 15 both of mind and body. Having also access to all kinds of books, I then formed habits of general read- ing, and by some assistance and close application I qnaliik'd myself for entering the Junior Class in Jeffer- son College. How often do I now revert in thought to those pleasant by-gone days. Within a few months past, I was once more permitted to revisit those scenes of my youth, after an absence of twenty years. But alas, how changed! Nature was there. There were the bold Alleghany Mountains, the green hills, the beautiful stream of the Juniata. But almost all the companions of my youth and my kindred were no more. Strange faces looked upon me, and I found myself more at home among the tombs of the dead than in the dwell- ings of the living. In the Spring of 1825, 1 left Mifflintown for Jefferson College, Cannonsburg (Pennsylvania). Stopping at Pittsburg for a few days, I had the opportunity of see- ing the distinguished General La Fayette, the compan- ion of Washington, the eai-iy and devoted friend of the struggling American colonies, who was then revisiting the scenes of his early battles in the cause of liberty, and whose progress through the country resembled a continued Roman triumph. I entered the Junior Class in Jefferson College half advanced. The class consisted of thirty members. Jef- ferson College, at the time I entered it, was in its zen- ith. It was the most prominent institution west of the Alleghany Mountains, and under the long presi- dency of Dr. Matthew Brown, it furnished the ministry which gave character to the Presbyterian Church in all that vast region of country. Rev. Aaron Williams and Rev. Dr. A. T. McGill, now professor at Princeton (New Jersey) were my associates in study. I entered the Theological Seminary at Princeton in the Fall of 1826. 16 PEBSONAL EECOLLECTIONS. My health failing in two years, I became an inmate for a few months in the family of the Rev. Dr. E. S. Ely, pastor of the Pine Street Church, Philadelphia. Dr. Ely was at that time at the height of his f\ime as a pop- ular preacher, a leader in ecclesiastical courts, a man of wealth, a skillful financier, a patron of all public insti- tutions, and the liberal friend and helper of all young men seeking the ministry of the Gospel. Though a man of eccentricity, " full of fat, fun, and fortune," yet he exerted for many years a controlling influence in all matters connected with the Presbyterian Church in the Middle States. About the year 1831, he became a prominent leader in an effort to found a great Western city on the Missouri River. Many persons, by his influ- ence and wealth, were induced to unite with him in this plausible scheme. Many widows, and others hav- ing the control of small means throughout the country, cast in their lot with him and invested their all — and Marion City, near Alton, for a short time bid fair to rise to some eminence. But the pecuniary revulsion which spread over the whole country in 1837-8, fell upon all such enterprises with a stunning blow. The greater portion of the people assembled at Marion City were dispersed, their means were squandered, their health and spirits broken, their chief leaders abandoned the project, and Dr. Ely, broken in fortune and spirits, returned to Philadelphia. Though Dr. Ely's course in the incidents just narrated, and also in the part he took in the divis- ion of the Presbyterian Church into Old and Xew School, is certainly to be condemned, yet he deserved great honor while he lived, and his memory should be still cherished since his death, for the great good he accom- plished in the earlier period of his life. Multitudes of young men were aided by him in their efforts to enter the ministry. His residence in Philadelphia was the PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. 17 abode of elegant liospitality. Tlie Jefferson Mediccil College was founded mainly by his efforts. Many widows and orphans were clothed and fed by his money; and for many years he expended thdwhole of his salary from his congregation in acts of benevolence. I must place on record this tribute to the name of Dr. Ezra Stiles Ely. On the 22d of April, 1829, and when in my twenty- second year, I was licensed to preach the Gospel by the Presbytery of Philadelphia, at Frankfort, a village some miles from the city. Two other young men were li- censed at the same time : Rev. Nicholas Murray, now deceased, for many years pastor of the First Presbyteri- an Ciiurch at Elizabethtown (New Jersey), a man emi- nent for his learning, and particularly a popular writer against Catholicism, over the name of "Kirwan." The other was the Rev. Alexander Aikman, of Bordentown (New Jersey), a young man of varied attainments in learning and theology, who was sent to New Orleans in 1832 to take charge of the First Presbyterian Church in that city, rendered vacant by the deposition from the ministry of Rev. Theodore Clapp by the Presbytery of Mississippi. Mr. Aikman commenced his labors under most encouraging auspices, and did much to divest Presbyterianism of the odium under which it had been suffering for many years from the misrepresentations of Mr. Clapp. But in a short time his health failed, and, leaving New Orleans, he came to Natchez, where, after lingering for some weeks, he died. His sun went down at noon. My first appearance in the pulpit was at Norristown, in Montgomery County, about twenty miles from Phila- delphia. In the month of October, 1829, I started for Mississippi, landed at Rodney, walked out to the resi- dence of Dr. Rush Nutt (two miles from the river); 18 PEKSONAL EECO'lLECTIONS. remained in that vicinity, preaching at Rodney and Bethel, until July following, when I removed to Baton Rouge (Louisiana) ; succeeded Rev. John Dorrance as pastor of the church ; married on the 20th of September, 1832 ; in January, 1834, became connected with the Col- lege of Louisiana at Jackson ; went as a delegate to the General Assembly at Pittsburg in May, 1836 ; visited New England during the summer of that year; returned to Louisiana in the fall ; accepted a call to the church of Vicksburg, with a salary of 13,000, where I remained pastor for six years ; then accepted a professorship in Oakland College, which I held for twelve years ; then resigned in 1854, and removed to Covington (Louisiana), where I had charge of a private seminary of learning for three years, preaching also during the same time at Covington and Madisonville ; then removed to New Orleans, and purchased the property called the Brick House Station, on the Carrollton Railroad, where I established a male high school, and, at the same time, preaching at Carrollton Church and the Prytania Street Church in the city. In the fall of 1860 I removed to Houston, in Texas, and took charge of the Public Academy; was removed from the institution by the military authorities of the Confederate States, which converted the establishment into a hospital ; then opened a private male and female academy at Turner's Hall, where I also preached to the Presbyterian Church until their edifice, which was burned down, was rebuilt. At the close of my superintendence of the Public Acad- emy of Houston I had one hundred and fifty male and female pupils. At the close of the war, in 1865, 1 became deeply con- cerned as to my duty in reference to the spiritual deso- lations of the villages and churches within the bounds of the Brazos Presbytery, and accessible by railroads PERSONAL RECOLIiECTIONS. 19 from the city of Houston. My convictions of duty iu this mutter led me to open a correspondence with my ministerial brethren in the region referred to, asking their advice and co-operation, and inquiring whether my entrance into the field would meet their approval, and ill no way interfere with their respective fields of labor. From all with whom I corresponded I received cordial encouragement. And then the question pre- sented itself to my mind, " How shall I obtain a pecu- niary support ? " for, up to the close of the war, no reor- ganization of the Presbyterian Church had been efiected within the boundsof the Confederate States. The Cor- responding Secretary of the Board of Domestic Missions at Philadelphia, intimated, through a third party, that, on evidence of "loyalty," a sufficient salary would be secured to me, if I would enter upon the same field. Such a proposition I could not entertain. In the fall of 1866, in a conference with some prominent members of the Church, I was urged to carry out my original purpose ; and the late Thomas M. Bagly, of Houston, and Mr. James Sorley, of Galveston, placed in my hands $50 each, as a salary for the month of January, in 18G7, to justify me to leave my home and commence my work. It was agreed and understood that I should explore the whole field, ascertain the Presbyterian element in each destitute community, preach the Gospel, organize churches, and prepare the way for the settlement of pastors and stated supplies. On the 1st of January, 1867, I commenced my labors, visiting as soon as pos- sible the towns of Hempstead, Chappell Hill, Navesota, Eichmond, Harrisburg, Columbus, Alleytown and Beau- mont. AVithin six months from the commencement of the year, I had reorganized the churches of Hempstead and Chappell Hill, and organized new churches at Navesota and Bryan City. During the first year of my 20 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. mission, I received no formal recognition from the Presbytery, and no pecnniary aid, excepting from the two brethren above named, and from the voluntary contributions of the people to whom I ministered. And during no single month, from the commencement of my services until now (1874), has my entire income ever exceeded one hundred dollars. At all the points where I have labored, I have always been emphatic, both in my private and public announcements, that so soon as any congregation may think itself able to call a pastor or stated supply of its own, I should at once retire from the field. The people of Navesota and Bryan City can testify to the truth of my present assertion. In recapitulating my ministerial life of forty-five years, I wish here devoutly to record the goodness of a special Providence in prolonging my days to the com- mencement of my sixty-seventh year, preserving me amid sickness, amid epidemics, amid war, blessing me with a faithful and loving wife, and ten grown and affectionate children. Though I have had the yellow fever more than oncej yet I have never been seriously interrupted in my profession by any dangerous or pro- tracted sickness. I have never lost the confidence and esteem of any community in which I have lived. I served the church of Baton Rouge for three years ; the College of Louisiana, three years; theVicksbnrg Church, six years; Oakland College, twelve years; Covington, three years ; New Orleans, three years ; and Houston, fifteen years. I have married three hundred couples, and received in marriage fees four thousand three hun- dred dollars. PRESBYTERIANISM IN THE SOUTHWEST. ORIGIJS" OF OAKLAND COLLEGE — MURDER OF PRESIDENT CHAMBERLAIN. Oakland College is located in Claiborne County (Mississippi), thirty-five miles north of the city of Natchez, and five miles east of the Mississippi River. Rodney is the nearest landing. Bruinsburg, three miles north, is the spot where General Grant crossed the river and gained possession of the rear of the city of Vicksbnrg, and soon that city fell. Oakland is situated in a region of country rendered interesting from many reminiscences of early times. Here was the scene of some characteristic incidents in the life of General Andrew Jackson. A few miles from the college was the residence of Blennerhassett. HerQ was the place of the capture of Aaron Burr. In this vicinity was the plantation of the amiable, patriotic, and lamented Gen- eral Zachary Taylor. This- region also derives much interest from the visits and labors of some of the earliest pioneers of Presbyterianism in the Southwest. Rickhow, and Smylie, and Montgomery — the last lately gone to his reward after a long life of labor in the Master's vineyard, the two former still living at an advanced age — here came, when the dew of their youth was upon them, and laid the foundation of our churches. Here visited and preached Schermerhorn, and S. J. Mills, and Larned, and Bullen, and many others whose praise is in our Southern Zion. The eccentric Lorenzo Dow here rode his mule and blew his horn, and attracted 22 PRESBYTERIANISM IN THE SOUTHWEST. crowds of the first settlers, preaching on housetops and haystacks, resembling Peter the Hermit, who once mar- shalled all Europe under the Crusader's banner. The origin of Oakland College may be traced to a meeting of Presbyterian ministers, held in the town of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, in April, 1829. Some circum- stances had occurred previous to this meeting which had particularly attracted the attention of Presbyterians to the subject of Southern education. There was not, at that time, a single college, prepared to give a regular collegiate education, w^ithin the States of Louisiana, Mississippi, and the territory of Arkansas — containing a population at that time of more than three hundred thousand souls, and a tract of country of more than one hundred and forty-five thousand square miles, embrac- ing the growing city of New Orleans and other cities — with a soil capable of sustaining a vast population. Efforts had been made by the Legislature of Tjouisiana, with princely liberality, to establish several institutions of learning, all of which had virtually failed. In the State of Mississippi exertions had been made for nearly thirty years, and large donations from the general gov- ernment, and from corporations and individuals, had been expended ; and yet not one individual was known to have been graduated. The religious community had done nothing. After viewing these facts, and having a full inter- change of sentiments, the clergymen above referred to concluded that they would fail in their duty, and forfeit the character of their Church, as the great champion of learning, if they did not make an efibrt to meet the claims of the country, and provide means for a thorough Southern education. A committee was accordingly appointed who, after an extensive correspondence, con- tinued through several months, called a meeting of the PRESBYTERIANISM IN THE SOUTHWEST. 23 friends of education at Bethel Church, two miles from the present location of the college, on tlie 14th of Janu- ary, 1830. This meeting was composed of gentlemen from tlie parishes of East Baton Rouge, East Feliciana, and West Feliciana, Louisiana; and from the counties of Claiborne, Amite, "Wilkinson, Adams, Jefferson, War- ren, Hinds, and Madison, in Mississippi, and continued six days. The following resolution was presented: Resolved, That it is expedient to establish and endow an insti- tution of -learning within our bounds, which, when complete, shall embrace the usual branches of science and literature taught in the colleges of our country, together with a preparatory Eng- lish and Grammar School, and Theological Professorship, or Seminary. This resolution was sustained by gentlemen from every part of the country represented in the meeting ; and after considering it for three days, it was unani- mously adopted. A subscription was immediately opened to supply the requisite funds. Twelve thousand dollars were contributed for the purchase of a site and the erection of necessary buildings. Committees were appointed to prepare a constitution, to view the various locations which had been spoken of, and to make all necessary arrangements for opening the school. The Presbytery of Mississippi, embracing, at that time, all the Presbyterian ministers in Louisiana, Mis- sissippi, and Arkansas, received the proposed seminary under its care, adopted a constitution, appointed a Board of Trustees and the President of the college, and fixed the location within three miles of Bethel Church, in Claiborne County, Mississippi. On the l-4th of May the school opened with three pupils, who had accom- panied the President, the Rev. Jeremiah Chamberlain, D.D., from Jackson, Louisiana, where he had been pre- siding for some time over the " College of Louisiana." 24 PEESBYTERIANISM IN THE SOUTHWEST. On tlie 2d of July, 1830, the first clearing was begun on the magnificent Oak Eidge, now occupied by the college buildings. At the end of the session, March 28th, the school consisted of sixty-five pupils. The two more ad- vanced formed a sophomore class, and there were five in the freshman class ; the remainder were in the English and classical schools. The President instructed the two college classes and the classical school in the lan- guages; and his brother, Mr. John Chamberlain, after- wards professor of chemistry and natural philosophy, instructed the classes in mathematics and in the Eng- lish school. In the winter of 1831, a charter was received from the legislature of the State. In 1833, the first commencement was held; and Mr. James M. Smylie, recent Vice-Chancellor of the State of Mississippi, was the first graduate of Oakland College. His classmate, William Montgomery, son of Rev. William Montgomery, one of our oldest ministers, who expected to receive his degree at the same time, was removed by death about three weeks before the commencement. This is believed to be the first commencement south of Tennessee, and Judge Siiiylie is the first native Mississippian who re- ceived the degree of A. B. in his own State. Such was the origin of Oakland College, an institu- tion which has aided in the education of nearly one thousand native youth, and which now has on the roll of its graduates one hundred and twenty alumni, who are scattered throughout the Southwest, and occupied in the cultivation of the soil or in the learned profes- sions. And the writer believes that there is not on the list of the graduates of Oakland College a single name upon which rests a blemish of dishonor or immorality. And the large number of those educated young men who assemble annually in the groves and halls of their alma mater, is a pleasing token of their interest and PRESBYTERLVNISM IN THE SOUTHTVEST. 2o affection, and a guarantee of what the institution may hereafter expect from the influence and character of her own sons. The necessary buildings and accommodations for students and teachers have been provided as the wants of the institution have required. There are, at this time, about thirty cottages for the occupancy of the pupils ; residences for the President and professors; two handsome halls for the literary societies, with libraries attached; a college library of upwards of four thousand volumes; a philosophical, chemical, and astronomical apparatus, which cost nearly $4,000 ; a main college of brick, one hundred and twelve by sixty, containing a college chapel, prayer hall, lecture rooms, and other requisite accommodations. The institution has never received any aid from the State or general government. Its funds have been provided entirely from private liberality. And these funds would now be sufficient to sustain the college, were it not for some unfortunate investments a few years since in the banks of the State. We shall conclude this brief history of Oakland Col- lege, by stating a recent occurrence, which, at the time, cast a deep gloom over the institution, and filled the whole land with astonishment and grief. The President and professors had been performing their quiet and laborious duties, unconscious of being the objects of any great amount of popular dislike or favor, when, during the pendency of the election in the State of Mis- sissippi, in the summer of 1851, for members to the State Convention, the faculty were accused by indi- viduals, and by some of the State Eights papers, of giving in their teachings undue favor to the sentiments of the Union Party. These clamors gained ground, until, during the election in September, handbills were circulated directly charging the faculty with highly 2 26 PRESBYTEKIANISM IN THE SOUTHWEST. improper conduct in this respect. These charges were mildly but firmly repelled in a card signed by the Presi- dent of the college. The leaders of the two parties were General H. S. Foot and Jefferson Davis. A citizen of the neighborhood, who had no connection with the college, either as a student or in any other respect, but who deemed himself either personally or politically implicated in the denial of the President, stopped at Dr. Chamber- lain's house, on the evening of the 5th of September (at a time when the professors and students were absent enjoy- ing the vacation), and called the doctor to his gate.. Ee- taining his seat in his vehicle, he commenced denounc- ing the doctor in very abusive terms, and made some charge against him, the nature of which was not dis- tinctly heard. Dr. Chamberlain, quietly leaning upon the top rail of his gate on the inside, denied the charge, and said that it could not be proved. Instantly the assail- ant sprang from his carriage, and knocked the doctor down with the butt-end of a loaded whip. As the doctor rose, or attempted to rise, he was knocked down again ; and as he attempted to rise the second time, he was stabbed to the heart with a bowie-knife. All this took place in the presence of the female members of the family, wbose screams were heard at a distance, and brought the doctor's son-in-law to the spot. He found the doctor standing up, but bleeding, and the murderer, outside of the gate, wiping his bloody knife upon his handkerchief. The doctor had strength to walk to the house, but, on reaching the middle of the open passage, lie exclaimed, " I am killed ; " and, sinking on the floor, he immediately expired. Thus fell a great and good man. Conciliatory in all his intercourse, bland and courteous in his manners, even when smarting under unmerited obloquy, but brave and firm as a martyr for principle, and ready to PKESBYTEEIANISM IN THE SOUTHWEST. 27 stand in his lot for the cause of truth and right, at all times and against any odds, he at last fell to appease the bitterness of partisan malice and personal hate. For more than a quarter of a century he devoted him- self, with a zeal, a self-abnegation, and a success un- paralleled, to the cause of Southern education. Mainly by his efforts and sacrifices, a college has been founded in Mississippi which has educated and graduated more young men than all other colleges south of Tennessee. And after all the labors, the trials, and the temptations of his long career, he has left the memory of no one act which his bitterest enemy will now venture to censure. We would here simply remark that a coroner's jury, consisting of fourteen citizens, i)ronounced the act by which Dr. Chamberlain came to his death, murder. The perpetrator of the crime, on the second day after the deed, committed suicide, and passed beyond the reach of all human tribunals. Although President Chamberlain thus fell, so cruelly, so suddenly, yet Oakland College did not fall with him. It still lives, and shall live, a monument of his fame, and a blessing to the present and future generations. And as it is the ordainment of heaven that martyr blood becomes precious seed, whence springs nn dying truth, we doubt not that the great principle, in this instance as in others, will be fully developed. No sooner was Oakland's chief founder and first President cut down, than the true and firm friends of the insti- tution began to rally. Precisely one year has elapsed since the sad event occurred; and in that year much has been done to place the college upon a firm and per- manent basis. Upwards of $60,000 have been con- tributed to pay its debts, and meet its more immediate wants. The name of its first President is to be per- 28 PKESBYTERIANISM IN THE SOUTHWEST. petuated, by the investment of a permanent fund, to be called the " Chamberlain Fund," the interest of which is to pay the salary of his successor. Overtures have been made from a distant source to found a professor- ship of Natural Science ; and from various other sources are cheering indications that this infant seat of learning, which has struggled so long and done so much, will yet become the glory of the South, and a rich blessing to the future generations. The present faculty are: Rev. E. L. Stanton, D.D., President, and Professor of Moral Sciences ; Rev. •J. R. Hutchison, D.D., Professor of Latin, Greek, and He- brew Languages J T. Newton Wilson, A.M., Professor of Mathematics; W. Le Roy Brown, A.M., Professor of Chemistry and Natural Philosophy ; H. B. Underhill, A.M., Principal of the Preparatory Department ; James Collier, Esq., Steward. September 6, 1853. HISTORY OF TUB CHURCH OF BETHEL AND RODNEY, (NEAR OAKLAND COLXKGE, MISS.)- In* the year 1838 tlie Legislature of Mississippi granted a charter to that portion of Bethel Congrega- tion now worshiping in Rodney, under the name of the "Presbyterian Congregation of Petit Gulf," and designated David Hunt, John H. Savage, John Watt, and James Couden as trustees, with the power of ap- pointing their successors. At the same time and in the same act, the Legislature granted a charter to that por- tion of the congregation worshiping at Bethel, two miles from the college, under the style and name of the "Presbyterian Congregation of Bethel," and named William Young, Lewellin Price, John Magruder, and Smith C. Daniel trustees of the same, with similar pow- er of electing their successors. The first building for public worship erected by this double congregation was located in the rear of the plantations of the late Smith Hubbard and James M. Batchelor, about three miles east of the town of Rodney. The prominent actors in this new enterprise were Daniel Hunt, John Bolls, Smith Hubbard, Dr. Rush Nutt, John Murdock, Sen., M. Mc- Clutchy, and also Matthew Bolls. The last named was the son of John Bolls, who was a man distinguished in the early annals of the church in this region, and whose name appears on several church books — a man who, though little in stature, was mighty in faith, swift of 30 HISTORY OF foot, great at a bear-hunt or in taming wild steers, the fii'st to hear of a new preacher coming to the settlement and ride thirty miles to see him ; mighty in cutting down trees to build meeting-houses, and who had the honor of being imprisoned in the calaboose in l^atchez for being a heretic, having been betrayed to the priest by a stranger whom he had sheltered and nursed in sickness. His son Matthew was as large again as his father, tall and gaunt,' a wit and a poet, whose quaint sayings, famous " book of chronicles," and imitations of Burns' poems convulsed many a circle with laughter. Eorty years ago, he had much to say about early times — how he soon outgrew his father, but still dared not disobey him — how he never regularly wore shoes and stockings until after he was married — how, for the want of saddles and bridles, he and his companions would seize wild horses, noose them with grape-vines, and ride furiously to merry-makings. He knew something by experience of the toilsome mode of removing cotton from the cotton-seed, before the introduction of the cot- ton-gin. Then every little boy and girl, white and black, had to bend themselves to the task, just as in picking wool ; and when a sufficient amount was pre- pared, a large barrel, like an empty tobacco hogshead, was filled, shafts were attached to each end, and it was trundled across hills and cane-brakes to Selsertown, to be pressed into bags. Cotton was precious in those days, bringing forty cents per pound. Matthew Boll's account of the first meeting to build the church build- ing, of which we are speaking, was characteristic of the men and the times. One thought that it would come to nothing. Another, that it would break up the faces down at Greenville and spoil their Sunday sports. Another, that it might help to keep the women and children in order. But all concluded to try it, and each THE CHURCH OF BETHEL AND RODNEY. 31 put clown a dollar to begin with. Noble effort! In that little gathering were men who learned from that time to give their thousands to the cause of Christ and educa- tion. In a short time, " the little church down Hub- bard's lane— the little church round the corner" — be- came inconvenient ; and about 1824 efforts were made to build two houses, one at Bethel cross-roads, two miles from Oakland College, and another at Rodney. The first stated minister of the church was Rev. Sam- uel Hunter, a native of Ireland, who preached at differ- ent points in the vicinity; and about 1826 organized " Bethel Church," an offshoot of the Old Bethel, near Fayette, made up of members principally from the old "Bayou Pierre Church," which worshiped formerly in a log building on the road now leading from Mrs. Crane's residence to Port Gibson, and near the residence of Mr. Venable. The place where the house stood can only now be identified by a few old trees and sunken graves. I know the spot. As early as 1824, the old Presbytery of Mississippi met in session there. There were Rickhow, and Montgomery, and Patterson, and Chase, and others. A young man from New England offered himself as a candidate for the ministry, was li- censed (the first licensure ever witnessed by the people), and after laboring a short time at St. Francisville and Baton Rouge, returned to his home, and within two years past has ceased from his labors. He was the Rca'. Thomas Savage, late of Londonderry Presbytery. A later incident connected with this lonely spot is familiar from personal presence. Nearly twenty years ago, two horsemen, on a sultry day, turned aside at these old graves to repose beneath the shade, and have time to get to Oakland at sundown. Plucking some wild grapes from overhead, they stretched themselves on the grass to rest and talk. Being both given to being merry and r>J " HISTORY OF sad as occasion offered, the time and the place gave food to both extremes of temperament. They talked about the past, the present, and the future. They then arose and departed. One remains until this day to record the past. The other (three days after) fell by the hand of an assassin ! (See History of Oakland College.) The original members composing the " Bayou Pierre Church/' and then incorporated into Bethel Church, were John Bolls, elder (noble old man, with a little body but a big soul, and who loaned himself about among the churches as an elder until other elders arose), Mrs. Catherine Crane, Lewellin Price (grandfather of Rev. Robert Price), William Young, Clara Young, Dr. Rush Nutt, Mrs. Nutt, Mrs. Elisa Kerr, David Hunt, Mrs. Ann F. Hunt, and others. Early in the spring of 1828, Mr. Hunter retired from the care of Bethel and Rodney churches, and the Rev. Zebulon Butler took charge of the congregation in conjunction Avith the church of Port Gibson, for one year. In November, the Rev. J. R. Hutchison came from Princeton Theo- logical Seminary, and preached at Rodney as stated sup-- ply until the following July, when he removed to Baton Rouge and succeeded Rev. John Dorrance, who returned to Pennsylvania. While J. R. Hutchison preached at Rodney, there Avere but two members of the Presbyterian Church residing in the place, although the village con- tained a larger population than at present. Yet almost all the heads of families in the town formed themselves mto a Bible Class and were instructed weekly in the Holy Scriptures. The first place used for public worship was the bar-room of a house of entertainment. On Sabbath morning the landlord would ring the dinner- bell, wipe the stains of decanters and bottles from the table, bring out an old Bible, and the people would come in. Some objected to the preacher because he was too THE CHURCH OF BETHEL .VXD RODNEY. 33 young; but ^[attliew Bolls, the great oracle, thought that "if they would give the youug man a little time, he would get over that defect." The young man lias long since got over tliat fault. The writer has now lost his raven locks, has put on gray hairs, and is old enough. Early in 1829 steps were taken to erect the j)resent brick church at Rodney. It was dedicated to the wor- ship of God on the first day of January, 1832, by the preacliing of a sermon by Rev. I)r. Chamberlain from Exodus XX. 24 : " In all places where I record my name, I will come unto thee and I will bless thee." After the house was finished, it appeared that the builder still held a claim against it of 81,500 — which debt was quietly paid by Mr. David Hunt, a princely man, and the build- ing released from all embarrassments. Early in the spring of 1830 a new element of life and vigor was introduced into this church, by the loca- tion of Oakland College within its bounds, towards which the members of the congregation subscribed $12,000. Afterwards the same individuals multiplied their donations to the amount of tens of thousands. The reason why the college was located in so retired a spot, was this: at that time no toivn or city in the South- west was deemed siifficiently healthy or sufficiently moral to be the seat of a college. In addition to his position as president. Dr. Chamberlain preached at Rodney and Bethel alternately for seven years. During that time, in addition to the support of their preacher, the people contributed to the different boards of the church about $1,000 annually. On the 11th of November, 1837, the Rev. J. T. Russell was installed pastor, and resigned in 1842. For the twelve next succeeding years, Rev. J. R. Hutchison, having removed from Vicksburg, acted in the capacity of both professor of ancient languages and pastor of the church. During those years the cougre- 34 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF BETHEL AND RODNEY. gation in its spiritual aspects assumed many interesting features. In 1837, about twenty were added to the church, principally young men connected with the col- lege. In 1845, about fifty persons were added to the communion. During the long term of thirty years, the congregation contributed largely to the boards of the church — to the Tract cause, the Bible Society, Sunday- school Union. Tlie American Colonization Society al- ways was a favorite, and sometimes received from indi- viduals contributions amounting to thousands of dol- lars. For many years, a few noble planters supported a minister to labor exclusively among their slaves. At one time, forty negroes, valued at $330,000, were liberated and sent to Liberia. An individual (Thomas Freeland) contributed, from 1833 to 1843, $333 annually, to sup- port a missionary in China. The students in the college gave about $300 for the boards of the church. Besides, the Theological Seminary at Maryville (Tennessee), the Natchez Orphan Asylum, etc., received large contribu- tions. ! those were palmy days, gone, never to return. HousTOF Texas, August 28, 1871. PHYSICAL SCIENCE. An Address delivered at Oakland College, on the occasion of the Inauguration of Dr. J. II. Savage, as Professor of Chemistry, August, 1&42. Oentlemen of the Board of Trustees and Faculty : All attentive students of history have remarked that great men and great events have generally appeared in clusters. When one individual of vast enterprise or learning has attracted the gaze and admiration of the world, others, remarkable for similar qualities, have arisen almost simultaneously with him. When great inventions and discoveries have dawned upon the earth, others of a kindred character have sprung up around them. What is the philosophy of this historic truth ? How do we account for it ? By the following simple process : — That waking up and inquisitiveness of the human intellect, which results in the discovery of some new principle, or the development of some new and startling invention, impel it forward in a new career, — a career of universal investigation; and speedily other discoveries and inventions open before it, and re- ward its newly-awakened energies. In addition to this, all truth is intimately affiliated and interwoven, and any change in one of her departments, speedily extends its influence to every other, and, ere long, all things become neic. But the chief cause why great events and discoveries have so often appealed simulta- neously has been, that witliout such simultaneous ap- pearance they would have been of no great benefit to 36 PHYSICAL SCIENCE. the world. Providence seems somefcimes designedly to have held lack the mind of man from the perception of certain great principles because the world loas not ready for them ; their time had not yet come. What worthy advantage could have resulted from the discovery of the a}'t of printing, had not mankind about the same time begun to call in question the old and time-hallowed dogma that none but kings and priests should possess power and learning — that it was a sin against God for the common people to investigate political and theolog- ical opinions. Hence, the discoveries of Johannes Faust and Martin Luther appeared in close proximity — the one standing ready to aid the other — the power of the Press to advance and perpetuate the power of the unshackled mind. This simultaneous appearance of great events and their adaptation the one to the other, was most strik- ingly displayed in the discovery of America, and those other astonishing discoveries and inventions which appeared at the same time. About the middle of the fifteenth century, that deep night of intellectual and moral darkness which had brooded over the earth for a thousand years began to break away, and the day began to dawn. Suddenly, as by a common impulse, Europe became the theater of great and marvelous events : — the invention of the mariner's compass — the use of gunpowder — the art of printing — the commencement of the glorious reforma- tion, — and the discovery of a new continent beyond the vast Atlantic! These and a thousand other magnificent discoveries thronged upon eacli other with pressing haste ; when with a steady and triumphant step the peerless form of human intellect arose erect, and throw- ing off from her freshening limbs the death-shade and the grave dothes which had so long enshrouded her. PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 37 ascended to the glorious resurrection of that noontide luster which irradiates the horizon of our own day, " rejoicing like a strong man to run a race." Now some of these events paved the wa}^ for others — some were rendered useful solely from the previous existence of others, and all exerted upon each a re- ciprocal effect. Among the fruits of this new order of things — of these new developments of mind — of this fresh impulse to the spirit of universal investigation, of which that cluster of great events was partly the cause and partly the effect, we should always give a prominent place to that department of knowledge called " Physical Science.'^ For although the middle of the fifteenth century is generally marked as the great era of the revival of religion and of letters, it is no less deserving of being distinguished as the time in which men began to study, appreciate, and comprehend the laws and phenomena of the material world; and it is a remark- able historical fact, that at the very time Martin Luther effected the revolution of the theological system, at Wittenberg, in a city sixty miles to the north, Nicholas Copernicus was revolutionizing the long-received system of astronomy. "While the one taught that the " Seven-hilled City " was not the center of the Church, the other demonstrated that this world was not the center of the universe: glorious coinci- dence of great events — the type and the prophecy of the approaching emancipation of Matter and of Mind ! My theme is the present position and aspect of the Physical Sciences. 1. The Physical Sciences, previous to the fifteenth century, were the main agents and hand-maids of superstition. Instead of contributing to the happiness of the race, 38 PHYSICAL SCIENCE. as they were tlien understood and wielded, they were the chief source of human disquietude and suffering. The mass of men, ignorant of the hiws which govern the material world, and hence wholly incompetent to unravel their mysteries and explain their phenomena, became the sport of every strange fact or uncommon occurrence which nature presented. The sudden ap- pearance of an eclipse, or of a comet with its blazing tail, the coruscations of the Aurora Borealis, the ex- plosion of subterranean gases, the bursting up of vol- canic fires, the ignis fatuus, dancing over the marshy meadow at nightfall, have often filled whole nations with alarm. Nor in those cases where a solution of these physical facts was known to a few more gifted than their fellows were the masses the wiser or the better. For such knowledge was hoarded up with jealous care — became the exclusive property of the mysterious alchymist— the cunning priest, the ambitious ruler, and was held in terror over the heads of the multitude. And it is a subject of curious investigation, to trace out the mode in which science thus became an instru- ment in the hands oifhofetu, to overawe and enslave the many. And we believe that history will bear us out in the assertion, that every known branch of physical science was laid under contribution to sustain some one species of religious and political imposture. How often did a knowledge of the principles of As- tronomy enable the general on the eve of battle, to calculate the time of an approaching eclipse, and at- tacking the enemy at the moment darkness was spread- ing over the earth, decide the contest in his own favor, by appealing to this visible interposition of the gods. Did not Archimedes, by his knowledge of Mechanics, toss the Eoman ships in the air ? or consume them with PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 39 his burning lenses, thus arming Syracuse with protec- tion more terrible thtin a wall of fire ? The Egyptian priests, by some secret art resembling our modern mesmerism, could charm the adder, and the serpent, and thus rivet the chains of ghostly power upon the necks of the people. In a word, what constituted the hidden mysteries of the ancient sorcerer, the physi- cian, the astrologer ? Nothing but a knowledge of a few chemical, astronomical, or herbal secrets, as familiar now as the letters of the alphabet. Doubtless the secret use which the ancients made of their scientific discov- eries, has prevented many of their inventions from reaching our day : as for instance, the Egyptian art of embalming, their dead, and the erection of the pyra- mids. Yet an examination of most of their famous miracles and fables will show us that their chief decep- tions had their origin in physical science. "The science of acoustics furnished the ancient sor- cerers with some of their best deceptions. The imitation of thunder in their subterranean temples could not fail to indicate to a superstitious worshiper, the presence of a supernatural agent. The golden virgins, whose charm- ing voices resounded through the temple of Delphos, — the stone from the river Pactolus, whose trumpet notes frightened the robber from the treasure which it guarded; the speaking head which uttered its oracular responses at Lesbos ; the vocal statue of Memnon, which began at break of day to accost the rising sun in strains of melody; were all deceptions, derived from science, and from an imitation of the phenomenona of nature." The principles of Hydrostatics were equally available in the work of popular deception. The marvelous fountain, which Pliny describes, in the island of An- dres, as discharging wine for seven days, and water during the rest of the year ; the spring of oil, which 40 PHYSICAL SCIENCE. broke out at Rome, to welcome the return of Augustus from the Cicilian war; the empty urns which filled themselves with wine at the annual bacchanalian feasts in the city of Elis ; the weeping statues, and the per- petual lamps in the old Greek and Eoman temples ; were all the efiects of the equilibrium and pressure of fluids, known to the initiated, but hid from the vulgar. The department of Mechanics, also, lent its aid. In the Eleusinian mysteries of ancien Rome, when the un- fortunate victim was carried off by the gods, there is reason to believe that he was hurried away by the aid of machinery concealed in their temples. When Appolonius, conducted by the Indian sages to the sanctuary of their deity, felt the earth rising and sinking beneath his feet, like the agitated sea, he was doubtless placed upon a moving floor, made to imitate the heaving of the waves. The rapid descent of those who consulted the oracle in the cave of Trophonius ; the walking statues of An- tium; the wooden pigeons of Archytas; yea, almost all the pretended miracles of antiquity, are specimens of the mechanical resources of ancient magic. But, doubtless, the science of Optics w^as the main de- pendence in the ancient arts of deception. The power of bringing remote objects apparently within the very grasp of the observer, and swelling iuto gigantic mag- nitude objects the most minute, never fails to inspire with astonishment even those who know something of the process by which such marvels are accomplished. What then must have been their effect upon the minds of the ignorant? The ancients, indeed, were not ac- quainted with those combinations of lenses and mirrors which constitute the modern telescope and microscope, but they possessed the power of distorting, inverting, and even of igniting objects by means of plates of THYSICAL SCIENCE. 41 polished steel ; and iii miiny of the descriptions of the o[)ticul displays wliich hallowed their temples, we rec- ognize all the transformations of the modern 2)ha)itas- magoria (See Brewster's Letters). Now, when we contemplate these facts, how wonder- ful the change in the aspect and use of the physical sciences ! How has the right arm of superstition heen broken ? How has the giant been shorn of his strength and laid harmless at our feet? and man can now walk abroad, and gaze upon nature in all her external dis- jdays or hidden wonders, unawed, unterrified. 2. Another new aspect which the physical sciences have assumed, and in which they differ from what they were in former ages, is their diffusion. Once they well deserved the name of Occult Sciences ; for they were secrets known only to i\\Q fciu — sacred mysteries veiled from the vulgar. They were like light upon the moun- tain top, while the valleys were wrapped in darkness — fountains in high places, whose streams sent down a penurious supply to the plains below. The custom, ever since the revival of learning, of writing all scientific works in the Latin language (a language unknown to the people) ; the scarcity and high price of books; the want of philosophical instru- ments, in connection with the warlike habits of the world — all conspired to render science, for many ages, a 7nonopoli/, and confined it to the call of the monk, and the dusty garret of the alchymist. But now the spell is dissolved. Nature has thrown wide her doors, has re- vealed her hidden wonders, and all men are invited to enter and worship at her shrine. The physical sciences received their first great im- pulse from the art of printing, fostered by the universal inquisitiveness and adventurous spirit which that art created. Next came the labors of Lord Bacon (the 42 PHYSICAL SCIENCE. greatest genius, in many respects, which Enghind ever produced), who pointed out the only true mode of phi- losophizing. Then came the discoveries of Galileo, Kep- ler, and Newton; and finally, about the middle of the last century, there began to issue from the press a large number of popular works on natural history, geogra- phy, astronomy, and experimental philosophy; and these, divested of the pedantry of former times, and the technicalities of the old philosophy, began to operate on the mass, and transferred knowledge from the few to the 7na7iy — from the pampered priest and feudal lord, to the peasant and mechanic. And thus, in process of time, a neAv order of things has arisen. A new era in the age of the world has dawned. And now the arts and sciences are like the light of the sun, or the showers that burst from the clouds, or the broad surface ol rivers and seas; the birthright and blessing of all men ; and, guided by the light of a few simple principles, mul- titudes in the humbler walks of life, who would once have been spurned as unworthy to set their unhallowed feet upon the threshold of the temple of science, are astonishing the world by their inventions and dis- coveries. Verily " many are running to and fro, and knowledge is increased." 3. Another remarkable aspect of the physical sciences, and in which they differ essentially from what they once were, is their practical tendency ; their every day utility; their adaptedness to the actual state of things ; affording direct alleviation to the physical and social wants of man. The age of theories and day-dreams is no more. The time when men shut themselves up, and exhausted both mind and body with learned trifles, and spun out fine cobwebs of the brain, of no practical benefit to them- selves or others, has passed awny never to return. PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 43 How humiliating to contemplate the follies of the ancient school-men; the utter destitution in their most profound disquisitions of anything like practical utility. Yea, it Avould seem that the greatest 7;Ai7o6-o/;7ier.9 were the greatest fools^ and that the higher they advanced in their fancied learning, the farther they receded from common sense. " Men,'* says Lord Bacon, " withdrew themselves from the contemplation of Nature, and tumbled up and down, in their own fancies and conceits. They sought truth in their own little world, and not in the great and common world " around them. Behold a conclave of grave fathers of the Church, laboring with holy fervor and orthodox zeal, to deter- mine, — whether God can exist as well in imaginary space as in real space ; whether God loves a non-exist- ing angel more than an existing insect ; whether angels can see in the dark ; whether an angel can pass from one point of space to another, without passing through the intermediate space. Is it not such " stuff that dreams are made of ? " Equally absurd were the trifles which absorbed the attention of the student oi physical science. Look at one toiling from youth to hoary age to find out the philosoi:)her's stone ; another, the secret of transmuting all metals into gold; a third is bent upon the perpetual motion ; a fourth tortures Nature to extract from her a universal medicine, by which to cure all earthly diseases and rejuvenate the powers of man ; while a fifth consults the stars to foretell coming events, and cast the horoscope of kings. "They could foretell whatever was By consequence to come to pass — As death of great men, alterations, Diseases, battles, inundations ; They would search a planet's house to know Who broke and robbed a house below ; 4A PHYSICAL SCIENCE. Examine Venus and the moon, Who stole a thimble or a spoon ; They would question Mars, and, by his looks. Detect who 'twas that soiled your books ; They'd feel the pulses of the stars. To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs ; And. all earth's mysteries unriddle, As easily as you can thread a needle." — Hudihras. But now this age of learned folly, of wise ignorance, of sublime nonsense, has passed forever away, and been succeeded by an age oi practical utility. And now can be realized, in some good degree, another beautiful sentiment of tlie great Lord Bacon : " Men no longer seek in knowledge a couch, whereon to rest a searching and restless spirit; nor a terrace, for a wan- dering mind to walk up and down, with a fair prospect; nor a toioer of state, for a fond mind to raise itself upon ; nor Si fort or commanding ground, for strife and conten- tion ; nor a shop, for profit and sale ; but a rich store- house, for the glory of the Creator and the good of man's estate.'' We set out by attempting to account for all the strange facts and j^henomena of antiquity, upon some well-known principle of physical scienge. We think we have explained a feiv, but there are some which are too profound for our philosophy. For instance, Mer- catus, physician to Philip 11. of Spain, relates that he actually saw a beautiful lady break a steel mirror to pieces, and peel the bark off some trees, by a single glance of her eyes ! Josephus relates that a certain Jew, named Eleazer, in the presence of the Emperor Vespa- sian, drew the devil out of an old woman's nostrils by the application of Solomon's seal to her nose! Good old Dr. Mynsight is said to have cured several bewitched persons with a plaster of assafcetida. How the assa- PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 45 fcetida was efficacious was much disputed among the learned. Some thought the devil might consider such an application to any part an insult, and ran off in a passion. But others very sagely observed that, as devils are supposed to have eyes and ears, they doubtless have noses also, and dislike vile smells to come between the wind and their olfactories. But let us drop this point, lest we suffer in the conflict. It is dangerous to meddle with devils and witches. They Ml haul you o'er the coals. And stir the fires of Phlegethon, With every mother's son ; Nor say one single- mass. To cool the caldron's bubble, That boils your bones — Unless you pay them double. We repeat the remark, that every branch of physical science is now cultivated, primarily, for the sake of utility. " Ciii lono " is the motto of every philosoplier. Behold Astronomy taking up her instruments, and making an actual measurement of the magnitude and distances of the heavenly bodies, explaining their influ- ences and variations, and even measuring the comet in its swift and fiery flight. The moon has struck and come under our lee, that we may gaze upon her burning mountains. The little star, which seems no bigger than the diamond that glitters on a lady's ring, is really found to be the center of a magnificent system, around which vast worlds revolve. View Meteorology^ explaining the laws of the clouds, and the philosophy of storms, for the benefit of the farmer, tlie mariner, and the fisherman. 6^foZo^?/ searches 'amid primeval rocks, and the dry beds of old oceans, to furnish man with a knowledge of shells and soils and metals. 46 PHYSICAL SCIENCE. Natural History unfolds, for practical purposes, the properties and uses of beasts, insects, and birds. Botany takes man by the hand, and leads him out into the green fields, to teach him the uses of plants and roots and flowers. Cheniistry stands behind her retorts and crucibles, and discourses of earths and alkalies and gases, teaching man how to compound medicines, prepare food, improve soils, burnish metals, manufacture glass, disinfect im- pure habitations, and bleach and dye garments. And what shall we say of 3Iechanics ? Calling to her aid a few of the simple principles of nature and art, and pressing them into her service, she has given the world the mariner's compass, the safety-lamp, the diving-bell, the air-pump, the microscope, ihe spinning-jenny, the lightning-rod, the magnetic needle, the electric tele- graph. Such are her rich gifts to man. And what shall we say of the practical application of science in the wonders of Steam ? Oh, this is the lever by which we are moving the world. It has armed the feeble hand of man with a power to which no limits can be assigned, completed the dominion of mind over matter, and is causing old things to pass away and all things to become new. Men have dug down mountains and crossed oceans by steam. The Birmingham fire-king has visited the fabulous East, and the genius of the Cape has been alarmed at the thunders of his voice. The shuttle drops from the fingers of the weaver, and falls into iron fingers that can move it faster. The horse is stripped of its harness, and finds a fleet fire- horse yoked in its stead. The sailor has folded his sails, to bid a strong, unwearied servant to bear him on vapory wings over the waters. "The Allegheny has bowed down his back like a camel to receive the load of com- merce; and the waters have gone over him, and the PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 47 navies of boats ride in triumph over his high places." Nature, through all her works, has surrendered. The victory of mind is achieved. Even distance has been annihilated, and, panic-struck, has vanished from St. Anthony to New Orleans ; and the panic is spreading, and distance, in all directions, is fleeing away. If such are the achievements of Science in her infancy, what will she not achieve when arrived at manhood? when other ISTewtons, and Arkwrights, and Fultons, and Morses shall arise, with minds still more brilliantly illu- minated with the lights of science, and the splendid achievements of the present age shall be far surpassed by the future miracles of mechanic power. 4. We should be doing violence to our own feelings, and injustice to our subject, were we to omit to point out another prominent characteristic of physical science. It is the fact that it is confirmatory of revelation. It is becoming the direct auxiliary of Christianity. And every new fact and development is only adding to that great cloud of witnesses which attest the divinity of our holy religion. Once it was not so. Once science was viewed with suspicion. Once it was discountenanced because of its supposed contrariety to the principles of the Gospel. The inventor of the art of printing was thought to be in league with the devil. Galileo was cast into the dungeons of the Inquisition, for teaching that the sun is stationary and the earth moves around it. Columbus was opposed in his theory of the globular shape of the world, and of a western passage to the In- dies, by its alleged inconsistency with revelation. But a short time has elapsed since geology was looked upon as subversive of the whole Mosaic narrative. But now how changed the whole aspect of the scientific world. Our men of wisdom are becoming men of God. Every science and every system is now bringing its offering, to 48 PHYSICAL SCIENCE. lay them at the foot of the cross. Science and Eevela- tion walk hand in hand, the one as the queen, the other as the queen-daughter by her side. And the missionary of salvation, as he goes far hence to enlighten the teem- ing millions of the East, has only to teach the first principles of ioliy8ical science, and many of the systems of heathenism begin to crumble, and their idols totter to the ground. Glorious aspect of the sign of the times. The revelations of nature are in harmony with the revelations of Scripture. And future Lockes, placing it above all philosophy ; and Bacons, above all learning ; and JSTewtons, above all science ; and Miltons, above all song — each bearing his precious gift — shall come, like Eastern magi, with their gold, their frankincense and myrrh, and lay them in lowly worship at the feet of the Prince of Peace. I call upon the devotee of science to contemplate this noble and sublime aspect of revealed religion. It is the great fixed point around which all things else revolve, while itself remains unchanged. It is the emblem of Him who gave it, the all-embracing medium, in which every other thing moves, increases, or lessens, is born and destroyed. It is the last refuge of thought, the binding link between the visible and invisible. It is the solution of all anomalies, the determination of all problems in outward nature and in the inward soul. It is the fixing and steadifying element of every system, tlie grand object of every meditation. It appears to us even as the olive, that emblem of peace and duration, as described by Sophocles; a plant not set by human hands, but of spontaneous and necessary growth, in the great order of creative wisdom ; fearful to its enemies, and so firmly grounded that none, in ancient or modern times, have been able to uproot it. Yea, it is a monu- ment, standing in the solitude of the desert, upon which THYSICAL SCIENCE. 49 is inscribed the history of men and nations, which for ages rose and flourislied, and then burst like bubbles at its base. It is a rock in the ocean of time, which has braved the fury of a thousand storms. It has withstood the plots of politicians, the revolutions of empires, the gloom of the dark ages, the sophistry of infidels, the fires of martyrdom, and the rage of devils. In concluding this imperfect sketch of the present aspect and practical tendencies of the physical sciences, we shall detain the audience with only one reflection. This subject teaches the transcendent importance of fostering schools and colleges. The discoveries of the past must be carefully transmitted to the future. And what shall be tlie medium ? Let the great Lord Bacon answer. "Our duty towards learning," says he, "is conversant about three objects — the places of learning, the books of learning, and the persons of the learned. For as Avater, whether it be of the dew of heaven, or the springs of the earth, doth scatter and lose itself in the ground, except it be collected into some receptacle, where it may, by union, comfort and sustain itself; and for that cause the industry of man hath made and framed spring-heads, conduits, cisterns, and pools, Avhicli men have accustomed likewise to beautify and adorn ;- so this excellent liquor of knowledge, whether it descends from divine inspiration or springs from human sense, would soon'perish and vanish to oblivion, if it were not preserved in books, traditions, conferences," and places appointed; as universities, colleges, and schools, for the receipt and comforting of the same." Let all, then, who are engaged in founding institutions of learning, be encouraged by the fact that they are forming spring- heads and pools to collect and preserve *' this excellent liquor of knoAvledge." Not all the luster of a noble birth, not all the influence of wealth or fame, not all 3 50 PHYSICAL SCIENCE. the pomp of titles, not all the splendor of power, not all the joys of carnal pleasure, not all the charms of beauty, can impart such dignity to the soul, or so assimilate man to the angels, as this. This will grow, while all else decays. This will cling to us, while all else forsakes. This will survive, while the grandest works of genius and of art will expire amid the univer- sal wreck of matter and of worlds. Colleges will outlive empires. DUELmG IN YICKSBUEG. About the time of the removal of the Indians from North Mississippi to the Indian Territory, west of the river, Vicksburg began to assume the appearance of a city. On my arrival from Louisiana to take the pastoral charge of the Presbyterian Church in that place, in the Fall of 1836, I beheld a most animated scene. The eye of the stranger was greeted by the sight of a most bril- liant panorama — crowded streets, thronged wharfs, well- filled warehouses, and a large and bustling population. Every man seemed to be a man of business. Multi- tudes were running to and fro. The countenances of all beamed with hope, the hearts of all beat high with joyous expectation. Crowds of Virginians and Ken- tuckians, with their families and slaves, were pouring in from every steamer; and from this city of the bluffs, as from a hill of observation, multitudes were selecting fresh homes on the Sunflower, the Yazoo, and other por- tions of the vast territory offered for sale, by the with- drawal of the red men to the further west. New streets were opening, scores of new dwellings were in process of erection, and every corner rang with the noise of the saw and the hammer. Property of all kinds in Vicks- burg rose to a fabulous height; and hotels were crowded to such a degree as to make it necessary to portion out, by chalk-marks on the floor, designated spots where strangers might lie down and repose for the night. Physicians and lawyers and land speculators were innu- 52 DUELING IN VICKSBUBG. merable. No city in the South was more attractive than Vicksbnrg. Every man was going to Vicksburg. Every speculator was buying lots in Vicksburg. Soon, how- ever, the scene was changed. That melancholy pecu- niary revulsion which, in 1838, came upon the whole commercial world, spread like a funeral pall over the young city. The hum of business began to die away. The wheels of industry moved sluggishly. The sinews of trade were cut; and ere long every citizen experi- euced the effects of a wide-spread embarrassment. And soon, from loss of confidence and loss of trade, from fires and epidemics, Vicksburg became but the shadow of its former self. Its wealth had taken to itself wings like an eagle, and had fled. The gay and busy multi- tude that once thronged its streets had faded away. They slept their last sleep on the bleak hillside after life's*fitful fever was over. "Lord, what is man! His days are as grass. As a flower of the fieM, so he flour- isheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the place thereof shall know it no more, forever." Let us take a brief glance at another "picture from life in Vicksburg." We pass over the years of 1838 and 1839, down to 1840. But the gloomy fall of 1841, who can forget it, who can describe it? It was the great yelloiv fever year. If an invading army had. suddenly burst upon the town, the panic could not have been more terrible or the effects more desolating. Disease and death entered almost every dwelling. For six long weeks we bore the dead to the grave in almost one con- tinuous stream. The shafts of the pestilence flew thick and fast. And the fairest were the first to fall. The maiden was cut down in her bloom and beauty, the young man in the midst of his pleasures ; the old man and the man of influence, the learned counselor and the eloquent orator. Death tore away the props of families, DUELING IN VICKSBURG. 53 removed the ornaments of the State, broke clown the pillars of the church, and clad our city in lamentation and woe, leaving behind weeping widows and desolate orphans. Then, upon a damp and chilly Sabbath morning in November, with a heart almost broken with the afflictions of the people, I staggered to the church, and in the audience of sixty-four men (all*told), and not a female in the house, I spoke from these words of St. Paul : '' But this I say, brethren, the time is short. It remaineth that both they that have wives be as though they had none; and they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this world, as not abusing it, for the fashion of this world passeth away." Turn over to another tragedy in the Walnut Hill city. Vicksburg had been, for some years befoft the season of yellow fever, the seat of the gamblers. The formidable gang of the Murell men, which had per- vaded the entire State, had been dispersed. Murell, their ringleader, had been incarcerated in the peniten- tiary at Nashville, and hordes of horse-thieves and ne- gro-stealers had been broken up. Then another formi- dable cloud arose. Fierce and lawless men, but of pol- ished manners, who had been increasing in numbers and power in the young city of Vicksburg, had attracted the notice of the people of the great South, and had even called down the animadversions of members of the British Parliament. Gamblers ruled the day. Gam- bling-tables had usurped the place of law and set peace- ful citizens at defiance. Suddenly the mass of quiet and law-abiding men, who loved their property and their families, arose in their armed majesty, and, after the outlaws had killed Dr. Bodley, they seized the ringlead- ers, put some on flatboats and set. them adrift on the 64 DUELIXG IN VICKSBUEG. Mississippi, and dragging five of the remaining num- ber to a neighboring hill, improvised a long gallows, hung them by the neck until they were dead, and buried them in unhallowed graves. Then, for a time, the place had peace. Next arose the reign of the duello. Almost " every man had his little game." Every one had his duel. Eival lovers had their duel. Almost every dispute was settled by a duel. Foote and Prentiss had their duel. Hagan and McCar- dle had their duel. There were duels of pastime and duels of etiquette. Aikenhead and Flaherty fought about the right mode of preparing Irish potatoes for the dinner-table. Chilton and Harris left the Odd Fel- low's lodge when in session, crossed the river, and fought. General Foote and S. S. Prentiss had a rambling and aw^kward duel; and so crooked was the general's firing, that ePrentiss cried out to the little boys on the trees that overhung the ground, " Boys, look out, or you will be hit. General Foote can't shoot straight. He has missed me three times." Lastly, there were some who became celebrated surgeons or famous seconds to duels. Dr. Green was tall and gaunt. He seemed to me near seven feet high, solemn and grim at that : " The fiend was long, and lean, and lank, And moved upon a spindle shank." But because of his skill in loading rifies for duels, Pren- tiss dabbed him "Death's ramrod." Thus, from grave to gay, swung the popular current. The last serious affair of the kind, to which I would now advert, was the celebrated duel between Col. A. K. McClung and Major Menifee, opposite the city, in No- vember, 1838. Col. McClung was a nephew of Chief Justice Marshall, was a famous duelist, skilled to per- fection in deadly weapons, had killed Col. Allen, of DUELING IN VICKSBURG. 55 Brandon, and, after many rencounters of the kind, finally committed suicide. A challenge was passed and accepted between the parties. Great preparations wore made. Fresh dueling weapons were ordered from New Orleans. Sporting men came in crowds from Jackson, Brandon, and the interior towns. Bets were freely made and accepted. The hills around the fatal spot were covered with thousands of spectators. At the hour ap- pointed the parties took their position, the word was given, the parties fired, and Menifee fell. McClung fled to the interior. Major Menifee was buried on Friday. On the following Sabbatli morning a crowd assembled at the Presbyterian Church, when the writer, who had been preparing a discourse for the occasion, arose and spoke as follows THE CODE OF HONOR. "Tliou Shalt not ^u7/."— Exodus 20:13. This pro- hibitory enactment of heaven, was designed to be of universal application ; forbidding the taking, not merely the life of man, but likewise of beast. Before any one, therefore, can be innocent in taking life from any creature, whether rational or irrational, he must first obtain express permission from the same high authority from which this law originally emanated. Such permission, has, in some few particular cases, been obtained. Thus God expressly gave to Noah and his sons permission to destroy the lives of animals and use their flesh as food. And this grant contains our only warrant for the taking of animal life. If, then, we may not take the lives of animals without express permission from the King of heaven, much less may we take away the life of man — God's noblest work, made in his own image, constituted Lord of Creation, endowed with reason, and heir of immortality. 56 DUELING IN VICKSBURG. Has God specified any cases where the life of man may be taken ? He has. The Scriptures, in several places and in a variety of forms, declare that human life may be lawfully destroyed in righteous warfare between two nations; by the civil magistrate as a punishment for murder, and in necessary self-defence. "With these three exceptions, the Scriptures are most solemn and fearful in their denunciations of divine wrath and in- dignation against the destruction of human life under any other circumstances. The prohibition of the text therefore — " tJioit sJialt not hilV^ — is aimed directly against all acts of violence oflfered to man which are not included under these three specified exceptions, i. e., it is aimed against murder, suicide, and diieling. I call your attention to the latter crime. Dueling is a crime of very great prevalence, upheld by many plausible arguments, and sometimes practiced or countenanced by individuals of high respectability, and in some respects of much moral worth. What are the arguments against it 9 1. Its very origin and history condemns it. Dueling was entirely unknown among the ancient Greeks and Romans. The polished Greek knew nothing of it; the noble Roman was above it. The custom is exclusively of a heathenish and savage origin. It arose among the fierce and warlike nations of the north of Europe. The ancient Germans, Danes, and Franks, carried this mode of warfare so far, that none were excused, except women, sick persons, cripples, and those over sixty years of age. Even ecclesiastics and monks were required to decide many of their contests by an appeal to single combat. Bear in mind, however, that the object and design of contest by duel, among those northern barbarians, was DUELING IN VICKSBURG. 57 very different and far more rational, than the duel of modern times. The object of the ancient duel was to decide impor- tant points relative to crime or property. Criminal ac- cusations, or titles to landed estates, were always the subjects of dispute. And the trial by duel was a species of high court of appeals. It was considered as a direct reference of the whole matter to God, the great arbiter of right; who, it was believed, would always decide the contest by terminating it in favor of the innocent party ; and then the party vanquished, if not slain upon the spot, was punished by hanging, beheading, or mutila- tion of members. But tlie design of the modern duel is vastly different. Its object is to decide, not the titles to property, or ac- cusations of crime, but points of honor — points of such a delicate and invisible character, that half the world have never yet been able to perceive them, or determine in what they consist. The modern duel, or the duel upon points of honor, may be dated as far back as the year 1528, when Charles V., emperor of Germany, challenged Francis I. of France, by a public herald, accompanied by the grace- ful epithets of coward, liar, poltroon, etc. From that period it became customary, throughout Europe, when- ever a gentleman received an insult or injury which seemed fo touch his honor, he thought himself entitled immediately to draw his sword and demand satisfac- tion. Dueling became so common in France, that it is calculated that six thousand persons perished in single combat, during ten years of the reign of Henry IV. The effusion of human blood from the same cause, was frightfully prevalent in England during the time of James I. and the two Charleses. And what is the his- tory of this bloody code of honor in our own land? 68 DUELING m VICKSBURG. "Within the last luilf century of our political existence, how often has our land been clad in mourning? How often have we yielded up the most costly victim to glut the maw of this bloody Moloch ? Hamilton, and Deca- tur, and Cilley, and a host of others, both of our army ajid navy, the pride of many a rising family, our coun- try's strength in war, its ornaments in peace, — Oh "how are the mighty fallen ! " How have the most valuable lives been sacrificed, and the most precious blood been spilt, in conformity to a custom which knows no origin but superstition, no reason but madness, no apology but revenge! And the practice is still gaining ground, with all its attendant curses, — such as the dishonorable and cowardly practice of carrying concealed weapons, mak- ing a man an offender for a word — bloody broils and street fights — a disposition to decide every contest, ex- cept that relating to property, by a resort to the pistol or the dagger. Even our sacred halls of legislation have been the scene of bloody strife. Alas, our land is soaked in gore, and calls on God for vengeance. The very history of dueling then, with its attendant evils, proclaims its condemnation and brands it with infamy. 2. Dueling is a direct violation of all the settled prin- ciples of law, both human and divine. In Genesis, 9 : 6, God thus declares : " Whc^ shed- deth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed ; for in the image of God made he man." In Numbers, 35 : 16, etc., it is thus written — if a man smite any person "with an instrument of iron, so that he die," he is a murderer ; " the murderer shall surely be put to death." And if he smite him " with a hand weapon of wood, wherewith he may die, and he die, he is a mur- derer; the murderer shall surely be put to death." " Whoso killeth any person, the murderer shall be put DUELING IN VICKSBURG. 59 to death by the month of witnesses." " Moreover, ye shall take no satisfaction for the life of a murderer who is guilty of death, but he shall surely be put to death." "The land cannot be cleansed of the blood shed therein but by the blood of him that shed it." Such is the law of God. E(iually explicit are the laws of man. What says Blackstone, Book IV., ch. 14? "If two persons, A and B, agree to fight a duel, and A gives the first onset, and B retreats as fiir as he safely can, and then kills A, this is murder, because of the previous malice and con- certed design." Again says the sameautliority : "Kill- ing must be committed with malice aforethoiight to make it the crime of murder." " This takes in the case of deliberate dueling, where both parties meet avow- edly with an intent to murder, thinking it their duty as gentlemen, and claiming it as their right to wanton with their own lives and those of their fellow creatures, without any warrant or authority from any power, either divine or human, but in direct contradiction to the laws of both God and man; and, therefore, the law has justly fixed the crime of punishment of murder on tliem, and their seconds also." What says Dr. Paley ? " Murder is forbidden, and wherever human life is deliberately taken away, other- wise than by public authority, there is murder." AVhat says Mr. Russell, in his treatise on crimes ? " A party killing another in a deliberate duel is guilty of murder, and cannot help himself by alleging that he Avas first struck by the deceased, or that he had often declined to meet him, and was prevailed upon to do so by his importunity, or that it w^as his intent only to vindicate his reputation, or that he meant not to kill, only to disarm his adversary. He has deliberately engaged in an act highly unlawful, and he must abide the consequences." 60 DUELING IN VICKSBURG. Such is the law of England. The laws of almost every commonwealth in the United States are equally explicit. In Vermont, for killing in a duel, it is death. In Massachusetts it is the same. In Rhode Island, for fighting, although death may not ensue, the punish- ment is carting to the gallows, with a rope ahout the neck, and sitting on the gallows an hour, and subse- quent imprisonment. In Maryland and Virginia, it is political disfranchisement. What is the law of Missis- sippi ? The challenger, or bearer of a challenge, is pro- hibited from holding any office of trust, and is liable to six months' imprisonment, and a fine of one thousand dollars. All justices of the peace are required to give testi- mony against duelists, and the survivors in a duel required to pay the debts of the man killed. But here is a code of laws, setting at naught all these sacred enactments both of earth and heaven. Coming out like Goliath of Gath, and defying the authority of the living God. 3. Dueling is murder, and tliat too of the most aggra- vated and enormous character, and it is murder, not merely where the death of one of the parties ensues. For the common law declares that if one man attempts the life of another and fails in tlie attempt, he is a mur- derer, and should be punished accordingly. Look, too, at the many additional circumstances, which constitute every duel, whether resulting fatally or not, the most lieav en-daring murder. It is premeditated murder ; for every challenge con- tains a proposition to kill or be killed! It is accepted always with the express expectation of killing or being killed. It is deliberate murder ; for days and even weeks often elapse previous to the contemplated meet- ing. In the meantime weapons are prepared, and that DUELING IN VICKSBURG. Gl too of the most deadly character. Previous practicing takes place. Friends are chosen. The spot is marked out. Witnesses are present. The broad light of heaven beams down upon the guilty scene; and then, all tilings being ready, the most deliberate aim is taken at the seat of life — the head, the heart, and the lungs. Can any murder be conceived of a more atrocious character than this? Does the highwayman or the assassin commit murder under circumstances half so aggravating? Murder, then, is committed in duels with ten-fold more deliberation than murder under any other circumstances, and murder is here committed without any adequate cause. "Trifles light as air," causes the most contemptible and silly, a rash word, a disrespectful look, an indiscreet remark, dropped in the heat of de- bate, the clashing claims of rival lovers, party politics, petty envy — oh! these are the causes for which men ex- pose their blood, and rush upon the bosses of Jehovah's buckler. But it is said that the duelist feels no malice ; that he fights merely for the point of honor. IS'either does the highwayman feel malice. He who cuts the throat and rifles the pocket of the passing traveler, feels no malice ; and if he could procure his money at a less costly price, would stay his murderous hand and let the trembling victim off. But what says the common law relative to this thing of killing without malice ? It de- clares where one man assails another with a deadly instrument with an intent to kill, malice is implied. For if he have not a particular malice, he entertains a general malice — a malice against all mankind — an in- nate thirst for blood, which renders him unfit to live. But we deny that the duelist is free from particular malice. Duels are generally the result of the most deliberate 62 DUELING m YICKSBURG. malice; burning, diabolical malice; malice, which nothing will satisfy but the heart's blood. Duelists, as a class, are preeminently haughty, irri- table and revengeful^ and to overlook an insult, that magnanimous act of a noble soul, is, in their view, the height of pusilanimity. 4. Dueling is suicide, as well as murder, and suicide may be committed not merely by one's own weapon, but by the weapon of another. To permit another man deliberately to kill you, is the same as to commit the act yourself. Take away the circumstance of the duelist exposing his own life, and dueling becomes assassination. Add this circumstance and it becomes suicide. And who gave you authority to take away your own life, that most precious treasure, upon which such momentous interests depend ? Your life is not your own. It belongs to your friends, your family, your creditors, your country. How dare you then, destroy that in which you do not possess an ex- clusive title ? How dare you destroy that which was given you with which to work out your soul's salvation ? Yea, the duelist puts himself upon an equality with the Lord Jesus Christ. Christ says, " I have power (or au- thority) to lay down my life." The duelist says " so have I ! " 5. Dueling affords no reasonable prospect of securing the proposed end. The end or object proposed by the duelist is to gain satisfaction for some alleged insult, or to inflict punishment for some alleged crime. But how can the fighting a duel secure either satisfaction or punishment, seeing that the innocent is just as liable to fall as the guilty ; seeing that the victim depends not upon the rectitude of the cause, but upon skill in the use of deadly weapons. Or, is the object of a duel to wipe off a disgrace, to repel a foul and infamous charge ? DUELING IN VICKSBUIIG. 63 How can it possibly effect this object ? How can smoke, and noise, and blood alter the nature of things ? I am accused of being a liar, how can the firing of a pistol make me a man of truth ? I am accused of being a yillain and a knave, how can the same process prove the charge false, and make me an honorable man ? But absurd as it would seem to the dull comprehen- sion of some of us, such is the magic power of an ex- change of shots. According to the laws of honor, " it entirely varnishes over a defective and smutty charac- ter; transforms vice to virtue; cowardice to courage; makes falsehood, truth; guilt, innocence." In a word, it gives a new complexion to the whole state of things. The Ethiopian changes his skin, the leopard his spots ; and the debauched and treacherous, having shot away the infamy of a sorry life, comes back from the field of perfectibility quite regenerated, and in the fullest sense, an honorable man. He is now fit for the company of *' gentlemen." And let none dare dispute his title, or he will vindicate his tarnished honor by another act of homicide. Oh, what a cheap and expeditious mode of making gentlemen ! 6. Dueling implies cowardice. Many brave men have fought, but their fighting was no part of their bravery. True, there may be courage, but it is only brute cour- age. Why is it that duelists often find such difficulty to screw their courage to the sticking point, and ex- hibit such woe-begone visages on the field of battle ? Why so many wild and random shots ? But it is not the lack of physical courage for which we contend. The duelist lacks moral courage. He fights because he is afraid of public sentiment — afraid of being called a coward ; he stands in awe of the sneers of the ungodly multitude. Who is the truly brave ? He who conquers his corrupt passions. He who stems manfully 64 DUELING IN VICKSBURG. the torrent of depraved public sentiment. He who dares to do what he knows to be right, and dares to abstain from what he knows to be wrong. But mark that little pusillanimous soul, violating his conscience, lest for- sooth he may be called a coioard — thus x^roving himself to be the very thing he would not have the world to think him ! 7. Dueling, if it terminate fatally, damns the soul. "No murderer hath eternal life abiding in him." In the case of suicide we may hope there was insan- ity. In the case of execution for murder, we may see previous exhibitions of genuine repentance. But what is our hope of him, who falls in the very act of defying the authority of the great Jehovah — dies a murderer — dies and goes to judgment — with blood upon his soul! They turn'd liim on his back ; his breast And brow were stain'd with gore and dust And through his lips the life-blood oozed, From its deep veins so lately loosed ; But in his pulse there was no throb, Nor on his lips one dying sob ; Sigh, nor word, nor struggling breath Heralded his way to death : Ere his very thought could pray, Unanel'd he pass'd away. Without a hope from mercy's aid — To the last a renegade. 8. Dueling is a most unjust and disproportioned code of iniquity. It inflicts the very same degree of punish- ment upon all offences indiscriminately. Death for a thoughtless word ; and death for a deliberate act. Yea, it is a complete system of bullying. See with what in- stinctive sagacity this trained blood-hound selects his victim — always, if he can, insulting some one over whom he knows he has some advantage ; and then dogging him from place to place to seek his blood. Oh, the DUELING IN VICKSBURG. 65 horrors of this bloody code of honor ; trampling with fiendish cruelty upon all the sacred feelings of the heart; stained with the blood of statesmen, fathers, husbands ; revelling in the groans of widows, the wail of orphans, the shrieks of sisters, lovers, friends ! " Is there not some chosen curse, Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, Red with uncommon wratli, to blast the man "Who gains his honor from the blood of souls?" 9. Dueling is condemned by tlie very confessions of duelists themselves. What bitter groans and regrets fell from the lips of Hamilton and Decatur ! Observe the subsequent life and conduct of a successful duelist. Did you ever know such a man to be happy ? Is he not pre-eminently miserable ? afraid of being alone ; plung- ing into one crime to avoid the reflection of another; drowning conscience in the intoxicating cup ; and often becoming the victim of derangement. Then how con- science thunders and remorse goads; and the grim and gory ghost of the murdered one haunts him in his dreams! Oh, could he but drink of some oblivious stream and forget the past — forget that once he opened the fountain of the orphan's tears, and broke the widow's heart! But no, he cannot. Eternal justice will not suffer it. Oh! duelist, the remembrance of your deeds must follow you. Conscience will interpret everything into an accusation. When men fasten their eyes upon you, you will think they remember the man you mur- dered. When men stand in groups and speak in whispers, you will imagine they are talking about you. Every work of God, and every deed of man will be to you an accuser. Oh, the horrors of blood-guiltiness ! How it clings like a hungry vulture to the guilty soul ! QQ DUELING m VICKSBUEa. *' Tliough thy slumbers may be deep. Yet tliy spirit sliall not sleep, There are shades that will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish ; By a power to thee unknown, Thou canst never be alone. By thy delight in others' pain, By thy brotherhood of Cain, I call upon thee and compel, Thyself to be thy proper hell." 10. Dueling is subversive of all law and government. It saps the very foundations of civilized society ; for it usurps the highest prerogatives of a nation : the right of taking away human life. The duelist takes upon himself the adjudication of his own wrongs, and thus lends his influence to resolve society into its original elements. All the laws of God and man must give way, while this man adjusts his quarrels. He must have the whole field of social, civil, and domestic relations sub- ject to his fury. What though his enemy be a citizen charged with duty to the State ; or a representative en- trusted with the interest of his constituents ; or a friend gladdening many a social circle; or a son sustaining and blessing fond and white-haired parents; or a hus- band cherishing a devoted, faithful wife; or a father, surrounded by afiectionate, helpless children ; what though he be all these and more — the claim of the duelist for his blood, on account of some unguarded or disrespectful word, is paramount to every other. God, and law, and nature, with all their sacredness, must be despised and trampled under foot, while this incarna- tion of ferocity gnashes his teeth, and gluts his maw, and quenches his fevered thirst for blood. And if he may act thus, why not his neighbor ? For what is right in one man, cannot be wrong in another. If you have a right to adjudicate your own DUELING IN VICKSBUIIG. 67 quarrels, so have /. If men have, so have hoys. And if you may kill your fellow-man for a word, why not for a deed? why not for a malicious prosecution, for dis- turbing your slumbers by a midnight riot, for bringing a contagious disease into your neighborhood and en- dangering the lives of your family ? Oh, the long train of cause which follow in the train of this bloody god of honor! Every day our ears are made to tingle by tales of anarchy and violence, the brandishing of knives and pistols, the deeds of desperadoes and cut-throats, and all from what cause? Dueling is the cause of it. Let us noiv briefly hear and ansioer some of the argu- ments of the duelist. The duelist says that dueling, notwithstanding all that has been said against it, is necessary " as giving a man a passport among gentlemen." What a cheap way of making a gentleman! But are duelists more of gentlemen than their neighbors ? Are they more hon- orable in their dealings, more punctual in the payment of their debts, and more attentive to all the courtesies of life than other men ? Who generally fight duels ? The blustering and the boisterous, bankrupts, gamblers, and upstarts — men often stained with a thousand crimes. The duelist contends that the practice "has a ten- dency to make men polite and cautious in their remarks." Oh, it is making us polite savages, accom- plished barbarians; causing men, from fear of some swaggering bully, to go armed to the teeth. Dueling, then, is producing the politeness of bandits and pirates. AVe are told that there are certain offences for which the law of the land provides no remedy, and, therefore, the duelist must fight. And what are these off'ences ? Are they not generally the silliest trifles, fit only for children in the nursery ? And where is the duelist's magna- 68 DUELING IN VICKSBURG. nimity, that he cannot pass over an insult? A gentle- man luill not insult you, a blackguard cannot. We are told that it is the only way of avoiding the imputation of cowardice. You say, " How shall I avoid tlie imputation of cowardice unless I fight?" I would reply, if you do fight, how will you avoid the imputa- tion of cruelty to your friends ? of dishonesty to your creditors ? of guilt to your conscience and your God ? And if you fall, hoAV will you avoid the damnation of hell? These are previous questions, which you are called upon to settle. Let your motto be, "I am not afraid to fight, but I am afraid to sin." And if you wish to show your courage, prosecute your challenger ; defend your person, if he assails you ; and help in voting out of office every officer who. does not exert his au- thority in suppressing this vice, and in keeping the peace. But the duelist says: "My character — my precious character has been assailed, and I must defend it." And what a frail thing your character must be, that a little breath of calumny can tarnish it. If your char- acter is such a brittle thing as this, you had better get a better character — a firmer, stronger character. But the duelist says again : " I cannot bear up under the imputations cast upon my honor. I would rather die than bear it." Where is the duelist's vaunted courage ? I thought duelists were all brave and heroic men. But it seems that a little charge breaks them down. They have not half the courage of many Avomen. Others have been called liars and cowards, and still have sur- vived, the charge. And why may not these brave and fearless souls, by a few years of perseverance in the path of rectitude, silence every slander, and live down every imputation ? In conclusion, by all the solemn motives which can DUELING IN VICKSBURG. 69 I operate upon a higli-mindecl and generous community, ; I appeal to yoii: — 1 call upon you as patriots, as heads of families, as lovers of peace, as friends of God — by all ' the sacredness of human life, by the law of your country, by the universal conscience of the civilized world ; for the sake of our talented and cliivalrous youth, on whom I our country depends in war and in peace ; by the silence I of the dead; by the agony of surviving friends; by the anguish of widows, and the loneliness of orphans; by all the joys of heaven and hopeless misery of the lost, I \ adjure you to stay this foe to God and man. Let every freeman, and every man of moral courage, raise his voice in lionest indignation; let the press speak out, and record every duel as a murder; let the lodge expel every \ Mason who fights; let candidates for office be required : to abjure the bloody code; let every association whicli ' has for its object the amelioration of society, or the pro- ' tection of property, frown upon the duelist, and drive j him forth, a second Cain, with the brand of guilt burn- ^ ing on his brow — the stigma of murder fixed upon his I name. ; THE DIGNITY MINISTERIAL OFFICE. Preached at the installation of Rev. J, J. Read, of Houston Church, Dec. 10, 1873. " I magnify mine office^ — EomaJis 11 : 13. No man ever entertained a more exalted conception of the dig- nity of his office, than did the apostle Paul. With an intellect refined to all the culture of the age, with pros- pects of worldly eminence unsurpassed by any of his cotemporaries, he made of them a most willing sacrifice. Yea, doubtless he counted all things but loss that he might win Christ, and become a herald of his great salvation to the Gentile world. Acting on the principle suggested by sound philosophy, that no one can excel in any profession or pursuit in life, who does not enter- tain for it a most exalted conception, and engage in its duties with an ardor bordering on enthusiasm, he com- menced a career of toil, of self-denial, and of sufi'ering, of which the world cannot present a parallel. Hence, in every sacrifice he made, in every epistle he penned, in every church he founded, in every peril by land and sea which he endured — whether we view him standing before Felix, and reasoning with such overpowering majesty, as to cause that proud ruler to tremble, or as stauding on Mars Hill, surrounded by the venerable court of the Areopagus, and there uttering terrible de- THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERLVL OFFICE. 71 imiiciutions against those heathen gods, Avhose mag- nificent temples reared their stately columns all around him — one grand conception filled his soul, one master passion ruled his life, and that was, to "magnify his office" — to feel himself and make all around him feel, that he was clad with a vocation of all others the most honorable and the most important, Avorthy of his loftiest ambition, his most fervent zeal, his most unbounded efforts. TJie text suggests the dignity and importance of the ministerial office. 1. This is shown from the honor which God has placed upon it in all ages of the world, and under all dispensations of the Church. God has but rarely com- municated his will to earth, without the instrumental agency of man. Though sometimes he has made his purposes known by the medium of angels, by voices from the skies, by miracles, by solemn and significant ceremonies, by the peaceful rainbow, and the rumbling earthquakes ; yet it has ever be^n his chosen and most peculiar method to transmit his pleasure to earth by the lips of the living preacher, and the familiar and per- suasive tones of the human voice. And although this chosen medium of divine communication is designated in Scripture by different appellations — though the men thus called by God are denominated Priests, Prophets, Preachers, or Seers, — yet the honor and the office have ever been substantially the same. Enoch, the seventh from Adam, was a prophet of the Lord, a public pro- claimer of the will of heaven ; and at last, in public at- testation of his ministerial character and holy life, he was translated to heaven, that he should not see death. Noah also is denominated a preacher of righteousness; and during that long term of years in which he was preparing an ark for the saving of his house, he was oc- 72 THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTEKIAL OFFICE. cupied in publicly denouncing the sins of his time, and warning an ungodly world of its approaching doom. Abraham commanded his numerous household to serve the living God. Melchisedec was Prince of Salem, priest of the most high God, a glorious type of Christ, and i^ublished the glad news of future Gospel times. Moses was a most eminent publisher of heaven's will, deliverer, judge, ruler, and preacher — proclaimed the law of God from Mount Sinai, established the Jewish Church, and for forty years, his speech distilled like the dew upon the assembled congregations of God's chosen people. And thus, from Moses and Aaron to Solomon, Prince of Judah, and Amos, a herdsman of Tekoa, the noblest and most honored of all Israel's sons were pub- lic proclaimers of heaven's will. Some of these preachers delivered their messages in camps, and in courts, in deserts and on housetops. Some spoke to crowds, and some to individual auditors, as the Lord commanded. Sometimes they appeared in public with dishevelled hair and torn garments — with leathern girdles around their loins, and weapons of war in their hands, and yokes of slavery on their necks, and in various other methods by which to startle and alarm the people. They wept, and fasted, and prayed, and prophesied, and preached. There were schools of the prophets, semina- ries for theological training, over which venerable men, such as Elisha, and Samuel, and others, presided. Be- hold Elijah, the Tishbite. He was an awful and soli- tary man. The divine afflatus came upon him, and tore him from the plow, and hurried him into the wil- derness, where, communing with God and nature, he becomes qualified to be a reprover of kings, a denouncer of woe to a degenerate people. Then suddenly, as a vision of the night, he bursts upon King Ahab, delivers his message, and as suddenly disappears. Where is he ? THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERIAL OFFICE. to AVe find him shortly after in a poor widow's dwelling, multiplying her Inmdful of meal and crnse of oil, and raising her dead son to life. Again we see him upon the top of Mount Carmel, challenging the priests of Baal (four hundred and fifty), and the prophets of the groves (four hundred and fifty), to a public decision hy fire, whether Baal be God, or Jehovah be God. Where is he now ? He is at the brook Kishon, a heaven-con- stituted homicide, shiying the false prophets, heaps upon heaps. Now we find him compelling clouds and rain from the brazen sky and running before Ahab's chariot, to the entrance of Jezreel. We follow him again, a fugitive from Jezebel's vengeance, fleeing into the wilderness ; fed by ravens ; lodged in a cave ; com- muning with God in the wind, in the earthquake, and the fire ; and as he hears the still, small voice, he wraps his face in his mantle and bows his head, and worships. Again he sallies forth into the busy populace, armed with new terror, and burning to utter new messages ; anoints Elisha as his successor ; appears once more as a ghost to king Ahab ; then turns his weary steps once more towards Jordan, with none but Elisha with him ; smites the waters with his mantle ; passes over dryshod ; meets the fiery chariot let down from heaven ; mounts the chariot like a king and conqueror ; is carried up- ward in a whirlwind ; drops his mantle ; while Elisha stands awe-struck and cries after him, " My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horseman thereof." (See Gillfillan). Pass now over a long sweep of years, and see what honor still clings to the heaven-constituted office of God's ministry, at a most important crisis in Jewish his- tory. The Babylonish captivity, covering a period of seventy years, is drawing to its close. The captives of Israel, who had long hung their harps on the willows 4 74 THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERIAL OFFICE. that skirted tlie streams of Babylon, and wept in silence when they remembered their distant homes, now lift up their heads with joy. The edict of Cyrus has gone forth — "Jerusalem shall be rebuilt — her altars re-es- tablished. Eeturn, ye ransomed people, home." Then, at the grand re-organization of state and temple, behold God calling into prominent view his own chosen servants to do his own chosen work. What moral sublimity, clusters around the person of Ezra, as, on the return of the people, he collects fifty thousand souls together near the water-gate, in the streets of Jerusalem. A pulpit of wood is erected above the heads of the immense mass, where, on elevated seats, on right and left, sat the Levites and elders of the people. As Ezra ascends the pulpit and opens the law, the whole mass, by a simulta- neous impulse, rise and stand. As he offers up prayer and praise to God the people bow their heads and wor- ship, with their faces to the ground ; and at the pray- er's close, with uplifted heads and hands, they respond, "Amen, amen." Then the sermon begins — and what a sermon! For, as the preacher proceeds, every eye becomes a fountain of tears; and the elders weep; and the Levites weep; and all the people weep. And toward noon tlie weeping became so excessive and exhausting that the preacher and Levites had to restrain them. And in obedience to these wise and holy men, fifty thousand hearts are calmed in a moment, and they disperse in peace. Plato was alive at this very time, teaching cold philosophy to cold academies. But what was Plato, and what was Xenophon, and what was Demosthenes, in comparison with Ezra preaching at the water-gate, in the streets of Jerusalem ? From this period to the Christian era, public preach- ing was universal; synagogues were multiplied; vast THE DIGNITY OF THE IHINISTERLVL OFFICE. 75 numbers attended ; and elders and preachers were ap- pointed for the purpose of order and instruction. At last " came John the Baptist, preaching in the wilder- ness of Judea, and saying, repent ye ; for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. For this is he that was spoken of by the prophet Esaias, saying, The voice of one cry- ing in tlie wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, ■make his paths straight. And the same John had his raiment of camel's hair, and a leathern girdle about his loins; and his meat was locusts and wild honey. Then went out to him Jerusalem, and all Judea, and all the region round about Jordan. And were baptized of him in Jordan, confessing their sins." But this bright "morning star" soon faded away be- fore the rising splendor of the " glorious sun of right- eousness," who spake as never man spake, and suffered as never man suffered, and died as never man died, and rose as never man rose ; and forty days after his resur- rection, led his disciples out as far as to Bethany, where he uttered his great commission : " Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature ; he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, and he that be- lieveth not shall be damned." " He spake and light shone round his head, On a bright cloud to heaven he rode ; They to the farthest nations spread The faith of their ascending Lord." 2. The great dignity and honor of the ministerial office is shadowed forth by the many names and appella- tions by which it is designated in Holy Scripture. There is not an honorable epithet or title applied to oc- cupations of distinction among men which is not used to illustrate the office of the ministry. Is the Church 'represented in Scripture under the similitude of a vine- yard, ministers are the laborers toiling in its culture. 76 THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERIAL OFFICE. Is the cliiircli called a city, ministers are the watchmen stationed on its walls, to descry danger from afar and sound the alarm. Is the Church a sheep fold, they are the shepherds, guarding and feeding the flock. Is she a building, rising in fair proportions, eventually to be polished after the similitude of a palace, they are the builders rearing the gigantic and beauteous structure. Is Zion an army with banners, they are the standard- bearers. Is this world a revolted province of God's em- pire, they are the ambassadors, sent forth to adjust the claims of heaven's court and beseech men, in Christ's stead, to become reconciled to God. Is the Church on earth an object upon which the ascending Saviour wishes to bestow the richest boon, ministers are the pre- cious donation. " Wherefore when he ascended up on high, he led captivity captive, and gave gifts unto men. And he gave some, apostles ; and some, prophets ; and some, evangelists ; and some, pastors and teachers ; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the minis- try, for the edifying of the body of Christ : till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." Would the en- raptured Isaiah depict the future glories of the universal church, ministers form a prominent object in the glow- ing picture : "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that pub- lisheth peace ; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation ; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth! Thy watchmen shall lift up the voice; with the voice together shall they sing ; for they shall see eye to eye, when the Lord shall bring again Zion." 3. The ministerial office assumes an aspect of vast dignity because of its rich fruits — its countless and transcendent blessings. Pen cannot recount, tongue THE DIGNITY OF THE MDsISTERLVL OFFICE. 77 cannot utter, history will never adequately record the blessings which accompany and flow from the estab- lishment of the Gospel ministry — diffusing themselves in ten thousand channels, over the Church and the world, over religion and science, over refinement and laws. Since the days of Christ and his inspired apos- tles, the voice of the living preaclier has been the method the most conspicuous and the most honored of God in propagating the truth and conserving the world. For ever since that period, the chief function of the ministry consists in preaching, accompanied with prayer and the administration of the ordinances. There are no suc- cessors of the Jewish priests — there are no successors of the twelve apostles. The ministry now hath no sacer- dotal or apostolic character. There are no lords over God's heritage. All God's ministers are equal. All are bishops, and all are brethren ; and Christ alone is Head, and Christ alone is King. And in compensation for the withdrawal from the world of miraculous gifts, pro- phetic tongues, apostolic pens, and angels' visits, God has concentrated the essence of all former honors and offices upon the Christian ministy. Yea, there are clear intimations in Holy Scripture of God's design to cir- cumscribe great spiritual blessings within its immediate range. " How, then (saith the apostle), shall they call on him in whom they have not believed; and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard; and how shall they hear without a preacher; and how shall they preach except they be sent." " So faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God." As true as God does not warm men without fire, nor nourish men without food, nor drown men without water, just "so sure does he not usually convert men without preach- ing. Though there ever have been, and ever will be, cases of sincere conversion without the public preaching 78 THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERIAL OFFICE. of the Gospel, yet they are of rare occurrence — excep- tions to God's great rule. " The pulpit " Must stand acknowledged while the world shall stand, The most important and effectual guard, Support and ornament of virtue's cause." What myriads of sacred influences and associations cluster around the pulpit, calculated to enhance its im- portance as a 7noral poiver. There is a vast element for good in having a class of men expressly set apart to instruct the people in holy things — with minds stored with learning — with hearts warm with love — with "lips eloquent with truth — whose themes are divine — whose topics are the whole range of Bible facts — and whose arguments and motives are drawn from life and from death, from time and eternity. Look also at the influ- ence of numbers, the power of sympathy, the expression of the human eye, the tones of the human voice, the whole force and magnetic power of human eloquence, calculated to awe, to thrill, to convince. Who can fully estimate the amount of knowledge communicated by the weekly ministrations of the Sanctuary, to a people many of whom are thoughtless and would never other- wise pause and reflect, and many are defective in educa- tion and incompetent to comprehend without a teacher ? Who can recount the blessings to neighborhoods and villages in the instruction given, the impressions pro- duced, the vices restrained, the public order upheld, and the peace, harmony, and friendships created by a regu- lar ministry ? And, on the other hand, what a melan- choly scene presents itself to the eye, where there is no Christian ministry — in Sabbaths desecrated, public morals lowered, youth unrestrained, the Bible unread,* and God and eternity forgotten — vice stalking abroad unrebuked, and the large mass grasping after wealth and. THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERIAL OFFICE. 79 pleasure, and no one to raise his voice and warn them to fiee from the wrath to come. And Oh, wlien we take a higher range — when we look upon the ministry as chiefly designed to proclaim to men a crucified Saviour, and qualify them for heaven, how the office swells in honor and dignity. And next to Jesus, the Lamb in the midst of the throne, the chief objects of interest and attraction in the upper state, will be those ministers of the Gospel, who have converted the largest number of souls to God. For "they that turn many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars forever and ever." Raphael took a piece of canvas, of which the maker thought nothing, and the vendor thought nothing, and threw upon it his own immortal colors, and has made it live forever in the galleries of Europe. So a minister of the Gospel takes a- human heart, for which the possessor cares but little, and re- traces upon it the lineaments of God's own image, to be exhibited forever in the galleries of heaven, as a trophy of redeeming grace. Tui-n for a moment more to earth, and look at the temporal achievements of the ministry. What hath God wrought by preaching ? The Roman empire was Christianized by preaching — the preaching of Paul and his noble companions. And though the " weapons of their warfare were not carnal, yet they were mighty through God, to the pulling down of strongholds." There sat Paganism at the capital, enthroned above the heads of kings and emperors — clad in all her dazzling splendor — with her magnificent temples — her gorgeous train of priests — her holy vestal virgins — her learned interpreters of the sibylline oracles— her gladiatorial shouts — her vast amphitheatres, some of which could contain tens of thousands of spectators. But Paul preached, and institutions venerable by ages tottered 80 THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERIAL OFFICE. and fell. The glorious Eeformation was chiefly brought about by preachiiig — the preaching of Luther. The Eepublic of Geneva, after which our own Republic was fashioned, was produced hj preaching, the preaching of Calvin. The sturdy national character of Scotland was formed chiefly by the preaching of men like John Knox, of whom at his grave it was said, " There lies one who never feared the face of men." The present quiet of every New England village was laid far back in the preaching of the Stoddards, and the Mathers, and the Edwardses. The present national existence of the Samd- wich Islands, whose people forty years ago were wild cannibals, is the fruit of the* preaching of American missionaries. The foundations of the American Union were laid in the labors and toils of such men as George Fox, the Quaker, and John Wesley, the Methodist, and George Whitfield, the Calvinist, who traveled and preached from Massachusetts to Georgia, and aided the people to form religious and ecclesiastical affinities, before the cry to arms rung out from old Faneuil Hall. Civil liberty, in the days of our fathers, was perched upon the standard of the cross, and will al- ways visit every land where that standard is unfurled. And the conversion of the nations to God, and the final and universal triumphs of the Gospel, will be effected mainly by the same heaven-ordained and heaven-owned method. For the Lord shall give the word ; great shall be the army of the publishers. " For an angel shall be seen, flying through the clouds of heaven, having the everlasting Gospel to preach to every nation." And as that blessed Gospel shall begin to walk abroad on its last triumph, thrones shall tremble, .oracles shall grow dumb, and the brows of tyrants shall turn white as aslies. Then cities and palaces shall fling wide their gates at her advancing tread, and the great mass of THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERLyi. OFFICE. 81 suffering, sinful men shall bow their adoring heads as her sweet voice sliall fall upon their ear. 1. In view of all that has been said, it is expedient that there should be a much more exalted appreciation of the ministerial office. It should be magnified above all other callings. Is lie deemed great who founds em- pires, gains victories, amasses wealth, or glitters in stars and coronets — whose praises live in history, and whose name is engraven on marble ? How much more hon- orable, and how much more deserving of gratitude, s]?ould they be deemed who ameliorate the hearts of men, subdue passions, found churches, form public morals, and produce effects on character and conduct that shall last forever. 2. AVe also see, from this subject, the propriety of set- ting apart a distinct class of men to the ministerial work. If the ministry be of divine appointment, honored of God, magnified of Paul, filled by Christ, surely not every one is competent to enter it, and none should enter upon it, but he that is " called of God, as Avas Aaron" — called by the Church, called by his own breth- ren, called by the Spirit, called by his own heart, glow- ing with love for souls, and appropriating the words of the Apostle, " for necessity is laid upon me, yea, woe is me if I preach not the Gospel." And when such a one has assumed the ministry, he should never desert it. He should wear out in it, and become every day more and more a centre of influence, and a saver of life unto life to immortal souls. Alas for those who do not thus magnify their office. ^Yoe to those who degrade the ministry — detract from its heavenly dignity by pervert- ing it to secular purposes, and "steal the livery of the court of heaven to serve the devil in." Among such we include sectarian preachers, poetical preachers, sensa- tional preachers, political preachers, fanatical preachers. 82 THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTERIAL OFFICE. 3. Contemplate the elevated position of onr Church in its high appreciation of the dignity and sacredness of the office, in permitting none to enter it but men of piety and learning, that the ark of the Lord be not car- ried by inefficient or unholy hands. Hence the honor- able distinction of our Zion in her zeal in educating the young, in founding schools and colleges, and furnishing the world with a learned ministry. 4. You here learn the duty of the people to provide for the temporal wants of the ministry. If we minister to you in spiritual things, is it not a small matter that you should contribute to us of your temporal things? Is not the laborer worthy of his hire ? Should not they who serve at the altar, live of the altar ? And is not that church most criminally remiss in her duty to herself and her head, which expects of her ministry constant services and elevated mental toil, but which extends to them a scanty and niggard support, expect- ing men to be given to hospitality and devoted to study, as well as punctual in meeting their pecuniary obliga- tions, but whose worldly maintenance is inadequate or paid with reluctance. 5. The views which we have advanced respecting the ministry, so far from begetting in the mind feelings of vain glory, are calulated to instill the deepest humility. When we recount our arduous duties, our severe trials, and our fearful responsibilities, we would cry out with the Apostle : " Who is sufficient for these things ? " Oh, brethren, " we are wdtli you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling." And we Avould appeal to you in the language of the same Apostle, " Brethren, pray for us." Nothing will so much relieve us, nothing will so much encourage us, as your fervent prayers. For a prayerless people will always have a desponding minis- try ; while, on the other hand, the performance of this THE DIGNITY OF THE MINISTEKIAL OFFICE. 83 duty will lead to the performance of every other. They who pray for their pastor will necessarily love him ; they will contribute to his worldly support; they will be careful of his reputation ; they will punctually wait on his ministry; they will receive with meekness the word of God from his lips, will grow up with him as heirs of the grace of life, and finally enter with him into the same eternal j.oy. HISTORY or THE PEESBYTERIAISr CHURCH, HOUSTON, TEXAS. This cliarcli was organized on tlie 31st of March, 1839, in the Senate Chamber of the Congress of the Eepublic of Texas, by Rev. William Y. Allen, after a sermon preached by him from Psalm cxxii., verse 6: "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem, they shall prosper that love thee." The following preamble and resolutions were adopted as the basis of organization, viz. : "For the purpose of promoting Divine worship, and our mutual edification in the knowledge and practice of piety, we, whose names are hereunto subscribed, do agree to associate our- selves together as a Presbyterian Church upon the following principles, viz. : " 1st. We believe the Scriptures of the Old and New Testa- ments to be the Word of God, the only infallible rule of faith and practice. " 2d. We sincerely adopt the Confession of Faith of the Pres- byterian Church in the United States of America as containing the system of doctrine taught in the Holy Scriptures, " 3d. We adopt the form of Government and Directory for worship as laid down in the Constitution of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America." To the above agreement the following names were appended; A. B. Shelby, Marian Shelby, J. Wilson Copes, James Bailey, James Burke, Sarah Woodward, Isabella R. Parker, Jennett Smith, Edwin Belden, Harris G. Avery, Sophia B. Hodge. rRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, HOUSTON, TEXAS. 85 The organization was completed by the election of James Burke to the office of Ruling Elder. On the 14th of April, 1839, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper was administered to twenty-five com- municants. This was the first celebration of this sacra- ment in Houston, most probably the first in Texas. After organizing the church. Rev. W. Y. Allen con- tinued to minister to it until the spring of 1842, when he resigned and returned to Kentucky, and was suc- ceeded by REV. J. M. ATKINSOJ^, then on a visit to Texas. lie received a unanimous call to become pastor of the church. Finding his health unfitted him for the labors of the office, he de- clined the call, and left the State early in 1843, having served the church about one year. In the spring of 1843, application was made to the Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church, in the United States, which commissioned the Eev. J. W. Miller as a missionary to this field. REV. J. W. MILLER arrived December, 1844, and entered on the discharge of his duties. He received a unanimous call to the pas- torate, and was installed November 21, 1847. His health failing, he resigned the charge in January, 1850, having been five years over the congregation, during which time seventy members were admitted to the church. REV. L. S. GIBSON", being in the city, received a unanimous call from the church and congregation. His health failed under two severe bilious attacks, in 1850 and 1851, which caused him to cease preaching. He died in Philadelphia, in 86 HISTOKY OF THE May, 1853, while in attendance on the General Assem- bly, as commissioner from the presbytery of Brazos. On December 31, 1851, an invitation to supply the pulpit for one year, was made to REV. ALEX. FAIRBAIRl^. In 1853, he received a call for his services as pastor, and was installed in February of that year. He resigned his charge in December, 1854, and moved to Huntsville. REY. JEROME TWICHELL was installed as pastor of the church in April, 1855, and was lost on the "Nautilus," in the Gulf, during the storm of August 10, 1856. REV. R. H. BYERS was called on June 20, 1857, and entered on his minis- tration in the following September. In November, 1859, he accepted the financial agency of Austin College, by which the pulpit again became vacant. He was succeeded by REV. THOS. CASTLETOiq", called in April, 1860, and installed April, 1861; he filled the pulpit during the greater part of the war. On October .25, 1862, the church, a frame building, fronting on Main-street, was destroyed by fire. Under the exertions of Mr. Castleton, plans were speedily ma- tured to replace it by a brick structure, which he was not permitted to see completed. In October, 1864, his relations with the church were dissolved by presbytery. In 1865 — with his wife — he embarked on the " Shibbo- leth." for New York, and is supposed to have been lost at sea, as that vessel was not heard of any more after leaving Galveston. PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, HOUSTON, TEXAS. 87 After the fire, worship was conducted in the Court House, until it was taken for barracks, when Turner's Hall was obtained ])y REV. J. R. HUTCHISON, D. D., who preached every Sabbath morning until June, 1865, when the hall liad to be given up. The New Building was dedicated on Sabbath, July 7, 18G7, by Rev. R. H. Byers, D. D., assisted by Rev. S. A. King and Mr. Moore. On April 1, 18G8, REV. WM. SOMERVILLE was invited to supply the pulpit one year, when the regular services of the church, after a long interruption, were resumed. He was installed pastor of the church in May, 1869, and resigned in October, 1870. On Sep- tember, 1871, REV. JNO. J. READ, a licentiate of the presbytery of Mississippi, received the unanimous call of the church and congregation to be- come pastor thereof, having accepted the same, he was dismissed to the care of the presbytery of Brazos. After having sustained a satisfactory examination, the presbytery proceeded on Sabbath, December 10, to or- dain him to the full work of the Gospel ministry, the Moderator, Rev. R. F. Bunting, D.D., presiding. The Rev. J. R. Hutchison, D.D., was appointed to preach the Ordination Sermon ; Rev. J. W. Miller, D. D., to deliver a charge to the congregation, and Rev. R. F. Bunting, D. D., a charge to the pastor. THE SABBATH. Preached at Hempstead, Texas, October, 1869. ^^ Remember the Sahhath day to keep it holy" — Exo- dus 20 : 8. The observance of the Sabbath is essential to the spread of Christianity, and to its transmission from one age to another. The Sabbath is the centre of the system, the keystone of the arch. Without it, the Gospel would have no opportunity of exerting its benign influences upon the masses, of giving forth, in public assemblies, its loud and solemn utterances of warning and instruction. For how could mankind retain a knowledge of the great doctrines of the Cross, unless they were plainly and publicly taught them ? And how could they be publicly taught them, unless there were a specific day on which, by common consent, they might assemble for the purpose ? The necessity and importance, therefore, of the Sab- bath, as a day of religious instruction and meditation, the honor which it confers on God, the peace and quiet which it brings to man, the rest it imparts to the body, the solemn pause it secures to all the secularities of life — these, with other most weighty considerations, com- bine in enforcing the command of the Decalogue, "Re- member the Sabbath da}^, to keep it holy." It has, however, been contended by some that the Sabbath day is a Jewish institution, and being merely national and ceremonial in its character, is not of per- petual and universal obligation. But can it not be THE SABBATH. 89 shown that the Sabbath was instituted long before the Jewish nation existed, and although incorporated into the civil and ecclesiastical polity of that people, it never exclusively belonged to them, but is binding, in all its force, upon the people of every country and every age? Our first argument is drawn from its great antiquity. The Sabbath was instituted two thousand years before the Jewish nation existed. It is as old as thef creation. It was given by God to the first man, Adam. It is then binding on us ; because Adam was a public character, and acted in a public capacity. Adam was not merely our great progenitor; he was also our federal head and representative. Adam negotiated with the court of heaven, not only for himself, but for all his posterity. This is one of the plainest doctrines of the Bible. Con- sequently, according to the laws of imputation and representation, all Adam's acts become our acts, all Adam's institutions become our institutions. If, then, the institution of the Sabbath was observed by Adam, it must be observed by us, for the same reason that we observe the institution of marriage. Where, then, is the evidence that the Sabbath was known to our great representative ? It i^ found in the book of Genesis, second chapter, second and third verses : " On the seventh day God ended His work which He had made, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had made. And God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because that on it He had rested from all His Avork which God created and made." Adam was created on the sixth day; the next day was the sacred day of rest. Hence the first rising sun which Adam ever saw, ushered in the hallowed rest of the new-born Sabbath. But we have other evidence that the Sabbath is as old as the creation. We find traces of its existence and * 90 THE SABBATH. partial observance in the history of every nation of antiquity, both Jewish and heathen. Begin Avith the history of the Jews in the wilderness, as they were jour- neying from Egypt to Palestine, and before they reached Mount Sinai. Observe how regularly they abstained from the gathering of manna, at the close of every sixth day, in order that they might rest on the seventh. Mark how familiarly Moses refers to the Sabbath in the giving of the ten commandments. He there takes for granted that the Jews knew of the Sabbath before the giving of the law on Sinai. For he says, " Rememher the Sabbath," implying that it had been previously known. Now go further back into the history of the Jews, and you will still find proofs of the existence of the Sab- bath. Examine the history of Job, forty years previous to the giving of the law, and you will find familiar men- tion of the Sabbath. Go two hundred and fifty years further back, to the time of Jacob, and you will observe that he observed the Sabbath. Go one hundred and fifty years further back, to the time of Abraham, and you will find that he knew the Sabbath. Then go back four hundred and fifty years further, to the time of Noah, and you will perceive that he also observed the Sabbath. In this day, the Sabbath can be traced back to Adam. Now turn from the history of the Jews to the history of early heathen nations, and go back until all history is lost in fable or is merged in the Mosaic narrative. The Sabbath is mentioned by Homer, the father of Greek poetry. He says, " The seventh day is the day on which all things were finished." It is referred to by Linens, another early Grecian writer, who says, " The seventh day is an auspicious day, for it is the birthday of all things." It is mentioned by Philo, an early THE SABBATH. 91 Egyptian writer. He asserts that "the Sabbath is a festival, not peenliar to any one country, but is common to all the world." Josephus, the Jewish historian, tells us tliat in his day ^' there was no city, either of Greeks or barbarians, where the obligation of the Sabbath was not known." And the learned Grotius declares " that the memory of the creation being performed in the seven days, was preserved not only among the Greeks and Italians, but also among the Celts and Indians, all of whom divided their time into weeks." Thus we find traces of the Sabbath among all the nations of antiquity. And now the important question presents itself: How did those early heathen nations acquire their knowledge of the Sabbath ? Whence conld have arisen this universal practice of dividing time into weeks, and of showing such marked deference to the seventh day ? How happened it that people inhabiting different coun- tries, speaking different languages, and adhering to different religions, all agree in this one practice ? Would their notions respecting astronomy have led them to such a division of time ? No ; their astronomical views would have led them to divide their time into months and days and years, but would never have suggested to them a division of time into weeks. Weeks are unnat- ural divisions of time, suggested by no revolutions of the heavenly bodies. Nor did the ancient heathen de- rive their knowledge of weeks from the Jews. For many of these nations existed before the Jews were em- bodied into a nation. Some of them never heard of the Jews, and some entertained for Jewish customs a very strong abhorrence. The only method, then, of accounting for the early and universal practice of dividing time into weeks, is that it was communicated by God to Adam in Paradise, as was the rite of marriage, handed down by tradition 92 THE SABBATH. among the antediluvian patriarchs, then scattered, after the flood, among all the nations of the earth. We base the perpetual obligation of the Sabbath, not merely upon its institution in Paradise, its recognition among all the nations of antiquity, and its incorpora- tion into the Jewish economy, but mainly on the fact of its constituting a prominent part of the ten com- mandments. Hence, all who admit the universal and perpetual obligation of the Decalogue, must admit the equally binding nature of the Sabbath. For if the Sabbath w^as merely ceremonial, serving a temporary purpose, and then passing away, like other temporary rites of the old dis2:)ensation, why should it occupy such a prominent place in that code of laws designed by God to be binding on the whole human race? Why is it found there at all? AYhy select it from the number of the merely temporary ordinances of the Mosaic economy, and place it so conspicuously in the very centre of that eternal compendium of moral duties, given for the government of the whole world? The fact of its being found where it is decides the ques- tion.- And there is something in the peculiar position w^hich this command occupies in the Decalogue, and the language in which it is couched, w^hich renders it the most remarkable precept of the entire ten. It is the longest commandment. It is the most minute and specific in its language, carefully enumerating a large number of particulars. It is located in the very heart of the code, between the two tables of the law — the first embracing our duties to God, the second our duties to man. And because this precept partakes of the nature of both tables, and enjoins duties to both God and man, it is placed hetween both. It is the golden dasp which binds the two tables together; and whoever would take it away, breaks the clasp and mars the THE SABBATH. 93 whole. For he robs God of his worship and man of his rest. The fact, then, of the law of the Sabbath being found in the Decalogue, settles the question under dis- cussion. And mankind have no more riglit to violate or ignore its requirements, than they liave to set aside the law respecting idolatry, or murder, or theft, or filial insubordination, or conjugal infidelity. Another weighty argument for the obligation of the Sabbath, is derived from considering the great design for which it was originally instituted. What was that design ? It was of the most beneficial nature. It was that man might have time to rest his body, improve his mind, and purify his heart; that he might have sufi&- cient respite from physical toil — sufficient leisure to worship God and prepare for eternity. Now, are not these uses of the Sabbath just as important now as they ever were, and, therefore, is not the observance of the Sabbath just as necessary ? Does not man require just as much time to rest his body, to improve his mind, to purify his heart, to serve his God, and to prepare for eternity, as he did in the juvenile ages ? It is the tes- timony of anatomists, that the constitutions of both man and beast absolutely require one-seventh portion of time for rest and relaxation, or else they will soon wear out. Behold, then, the wonderful adaptation of this part of the moral government of God, for the physic- al constitution of man. And if it was necessary that the ancient patriarchs and the other early inhabitants of the world, should have one-seventh portion of their time for rest and relaxation, is it not far more impor- tant that we should liave the same rest ? The bodies of men and beasts now are not half so vigorous as they were in those early ages, and require more rest and more leisure. And the laborious employments of men now are far greater than they were then. For in those 94 THE SABBATH. primeval days of simplicity, men had little else to do than to attend to their peaceful flocks, shoot the passing game, and drink the crystal stream. And still they needed a day of rest. How mnch more do ice need it. Now, arguing from the design for which the Sabbath day was originally instituted, we may safely argue the necessity of its continuation and perpetuity. Does the cause for which it was originally given exist still ? then should not the day exist likewise ? So long as man's physical nature remains what it is; so long as the soul retains its importance ; so long as man shall sweat and toil both in body and mind the larger portion of his time, just so long does he need the merciful provision of the Sabbath. If Adam in Paradise required the sacred day of rest, much more do his sinful descendants need it. Not, then, as punishment, but as a merciful condescension to our infirmities, has God said, " Ee- member the Sabbath-day, to keep it holy." The obligation to sanctify the Sabbath, in addition to what has been set forth in our former issues, rece-ives still greater force by contemplating the great blessings and advantages resulting from its observance, and the sad results flowing from its desecration. In enumerat- ing these blessings both to soul and body, both to man as an individual and as a member of the social compact, both as a dweller on earth and as a candidate for heaven, where shall we begin, and where end ? By keeping the Sabbath, those who are compelled to toil during the week are permitted to rest and recruit their exhausted energies. ^len of business and specu- lation are permitted to pause in their career of bargain- ing and sales, have time to reflect calmly and dispas- sionately, and are thus often held back from sudden bankruptcy or a too great love of money. Those also whose incessant occupations during the week prevent THE S.U3BATH. 95 them from having access to books find time to read and improve their minds. Attention can be given to dress and cleanliness, and to the polite civilities of friends. People of all classes can assemble together in the house of God. The high and the low, the rich and the poor, meet together upon a perfect equality. They are taught to feel that they have a common God and a common Saviour ; a common origin — a common end. They are also instructed in these things in the best possible man- ner. For there is something in the presence of a crowd, in the power of sympathy, and in the thrilling tones of the human voice, which renders the -public preaching of the gospel, and the songs and prayers of the sanctu- ary, the most effective means of impressing divine truth upon the hearts of men. They who are unable to read and improve themselves at home, can listen to the reading and reasoning of another. Impressions are thus made which are deep and lasting. A thousand conflicting passions are harmonized. The affections are weaned from earth and soar towards heaven. The pious are edified ; the ignorant are instructed ; the wicked are warned; the wavering are confirmed. A love for morality and order is diffused from heart to heart, and from family to family. The community Is improved; intelligence is diffused; crimes are dimin- ished. A moral sentiment is spread all around, which forms a more effectual preservation of the liberties of the country than pikes and armies. Oh] in view of such blessings, who ought not to love the Sabbath ? What patriot, what Christian, what lover of his own family, what friend of the poor, should not sanctify the Sabbath ? But reverse this pleasing picture and view the result. Abolish the Sabbath, and you take away every one of the blessings we have enumerated, and you substitute a 96 THE SABBATH. corresponding curse. Abolish the Sabbath, and you give the laboring class no stated time to rest, and the commercial class no regular period to pause in their career of worldliness. Abolish the Sabbath, and you place in its stead no other effectual method of instruct- ing the ignorant, of restraining the vicious, or of im- proving the manners of the masses without injuring their morals. In a word, take away the Sabbath, and you give us no other method of diffusing the blessings of Christianity. And if Christianity be not diffused, vir- tue, morality, and liberty must soon bid farewell to the land. Nothing but the power of the Gospel can purify and save this nation. Nothing but this can preserve us from the effects of infidelity, of intemperance, of party-strife, and national pride. Our general intelli- gence, our growing w^ealth, our ardent patriotism, and our invincible courage cannot, of themselves, preserve us. They did not preserve Greece, or Rome, or France. Hence nothing but the Sabbath, as a means of incul- cating our holy religion, can preserve the fair temple of American liberty. Nothing but a phalanx of holy hearts clustering thick around the Sabbath, can pre- serve us from going down to the gloomy grave of nations. We haye had an instance in modern times, of a whole nation deliberately abolishing the Sabbath, and what was the result ? No sooner had France blotted out this moral sun from her heavens, than the mighty God whose being she denied, and whose worship she ignored, stood aloof and gave her up ; and a scene of proscription and assassination and crime ensued, unparalleled in the an- nals of the civilized world. Every moral and domestic tie was ruthlessly torn asunder. A brother's hand was deeply imbrued in a brother's blood. The tears of the lisping babe, the shrieks of the agonized mother, and THE SABBATH. 97 the frantic cries of hoary and decrepit age, mingled with the demoniac shouts of an infuriated sokliery, dragging their victims to the guillotine. Yea, says one, it seemed as if the nation's knell had tolled, and the whole world was summoned to the funeral. In the city of Paris, there were in 1803 eight hundred and seven suicides and murders. Among the criminals executed, there were seven fathers who had poisoned their children, ten husbands wdio had murdered their wives, six wives who had poisoned their husbands — and fifteen children wdio had destroyed their parents! Do then the Infidels of this land desire to have the scenes of revolutionary France re-enacted, let them abolish the Sabbath, and forthwith, from the vasty deep will come up the demons of blood. The Sabbath is the "cord by which God holds up the nation from the yawning rolls beneath it." AVhile, then, one strand of this cord after another is cut, w^hat can prevent, when the last cord is severed, this mighty nation, like the massive rock on the mountain's clifi", from thundering doAvn to ruin. Give up the Sab- bath — blot out that orb of day — suspend its blessed at- tractions — and the reign of chaos and old night will return. The weaves of our unquiet sea will roll and dash, shipwrecking the hopes of patriots and the world. The elements around us may remain, and our gigantic mountains and rivers; our miserable descendants may multiply and rot in moral darkness and putrefaction. But the American character and the American nation will go down into the same grave that entombs the Sab- bath — and our epitaph will be, '' Here ended the nation that despised the laws of heaven, and gloried in their wisdom, wealth, and power." Be entreated then, to " Eemember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy." This is the day the Lord hath made. He calls the hours his owm. Remember it, for it comes 5 98 THE SABBATH. to rest the weary laborer, to calm the fevered brow of the anxious merchant. Remember it, for it is the type of heaven — of that rest which remaineth for the people of God. Remember it, for God wrote it with his own finger upon tables of stone, and proclaimed it, amid thunderings and lightning and earthquakes, from the summit of Mount Sinai. Remember it, because of the awful judgments inflicted on those nations and individ- uals who have violated it — on rebellious Israel, on In- fidel France, when God thinned their families, wasted their treasures, and drenched their cities in blood. Re- member it, because of the many terrible calamities which have come under your own observation in consequence of its violation — the carriage accident — the boat disas- ter — the faithless gun — the gay party of pleasure, which went out on the morning of God's holy day, but who never returned, or else were brought home mere man- gled corpses, monuments of the wrath of heaven. We never, in the whole course of our recollection, met with a Christian friend who bore upon his character any evidence of the spirit's renovation, who did not keep holy the Sab.bath. " We appeal to the memory of all the worthies who are now lying in their graves; we appeal to every one who reads these lines, and who car- ries in his bosom a recollection of a father's worth and a mother's piety, if, on the coming round of the seventh day, an air of peculiar sacredness did not spread itself over the mansion where he drew his first breath, and was taught to lisp his infant hymn, and breathe his infant prayer. The Sabbath is still dear to him. He loves the quietness of the hallowed morn. He loves the church bell sound, which summons him to the house of prayer. He loves to join the chorus of devotion, and sit and listen to the voice of persuasion, which is lifted up in the hearing of the great congregation." A CHEISTMAS STOEY. Preached at Baton Rouge, November 25, 1831. ^^ Beliold, I bring yo\i good tidings of great joy, loliicJi shall le to all inople^ — Luke 2 : 10. The silence of mid- night reigns over Judea. The inhabitants of the city of Bethlehem are reposing in peaceful slumber, all save a ia^ humble herdsmen upon a neighboring field. The notes of a sliepherd's pipe float across the moonlit plain. Suddenly those notes are hushed ; for music of a loftier strain — music such as is set and sung in heaven— comes along the breeze. A seraph's wing rustles in the sky, a seraph's dazzling form comes down, a seraph's voice proclaims the embassy, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." Oh, what emotions of rapture must have thrilled through .those shepherds' hearts, as this announcement fell from the angel's lips ! " The predicted Messiah, the long-expected deliverer of the world, has He at last come ? That glorious Personage, the theme of many a poet's song, the burden of many a prophet's rapture, has He at last actually appeared ? And now no more shall the nations mourn ; no longer shall their ardent expec- tations be disappointed. The darkness of superstition 100 A CHRISTMAS STOEY. will now roll away ; the types will all be fulfilled ; the spirituality of a once sublime system of worship will be restored; the blind shall see, the deaf hear, the lame man shall leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing; for the Lord whom we have long sought has come to his temple. Let us haste to the city, and wor- ship the heavenly stranger." Was this announcement of the incarnation an event of intense interest to the Jew, it is equally so to the Gentile. For hear its language : " Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." And all peo^Dle have had reason so to view it. The assumption of human nature by the Son of God was the commencement of that chain of glorious events which received their consummation on Calvary, consti- tuting a scheme of redemption for sinners of every age and nation, forming a river of free grace, which has rolled and widened, and watered the earth ; upon whose sacred brink loe are permitted to stand and drink and never die. Yea, must not the historian, in tracing all the improvements of modern society to their true cause, go directly back to him who was born in a manger in Bethlehem, and expired as a malefactor on the Cross ? For what else but his benign religion — the combined product of his incarnation, his example, his teachings^ and his death — has changed the aspect of our world; communicating its kindly influences to every public and private department of life; working itself into the framework of civil states ; giving a tinge to the com- plexion of governments, to the temper and administra- tion of laws ; restraining the spirit of princes and the madness of the people ; softening the rigor of despotism ; blunting the edge of the sword, and spreading a vail of mercy over the horrors of modern warftire ? Its kindly influences have descended into families, improved every A CHRISTMAS STORY. 101 domestic endearment, given tenderness to the parent, humanity to the master, respect to superiors, to inferiors ease. And what is its influence on our prospects of a life to come ? It is all our dependence and all our hope. When the soul is burdened under a sense of guilt, how readily it reverts to those awful scenes which occurred eighteen hundred years ago. There, while dwelling by a retrospective faith upon Bethlehem and Gethsemane and the Cross, the hard heart is softened into penitence and love. There death itself has lost its sting, and the soul, with a holy magnanimity, has borne up under the terrors of dissolution, and has sung old Simeon's song, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant de- part in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Behold, then, we bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. All people are benefited by his birth, all people are instructed by his life, all people are saved, if saved at all, by his death. The time of the advent was one of great joy. 1. Christ became incarnate at a period in which the whole civilized world were expecting him. History asserts that not merely were the Jews at that time con- fidently looking for the promised Messiah, but also that a profound impression was pervading all civilized na- tions, that a glorious personal personage was about to arise to reform and bless ^le whole earth. Hence, as if by a common impulse, the nations had laid aside their bloody conflicts, and were reposing in unwonted har- mony. AVars had ceased. The temple of Janus at Rome was closed. The blessings of peace were enjoyed throughout the vast Eoman empire. The wise men of Greece and Rome and Persia, impelled either from a secret impulse from heaven, or else from the influence of a wide-spread tradition, were all casting their anxious gaze to the land of Judea, as the place from which would 102 A CHRISTMAS STORY. Speedily issue the world's great deliverer. And thus we read, that when Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, in the days of Herod the king, there came wise men from the East to Jerusalem, saying, "Where is he that is born King of the Jews ? For we have seen his star in the East, and are come to worship him." And guided by that mysterious star, they came to the place where the sleeping infant lay, and bowing down before him, they gave him their gold, their frankincense, and their myrrh. 2. The incarnation of Christ occurred at a time his presence was most needed. It is a historical fact, no less strange than true, that the period of the advent was a period of unprecedented moral darkness. The repose of the nations was the slumber of spiritual death. Not- withstanding Jerusalem had her temple, Greece her academic groves, and Kome her senate and her forum, and all three had their priests, their poets, and their orators, yet still a gloomy night of ignorance, supersti- tion, and vice, brooded over the earth. The Jewish Church had utterly lost her spirituality, and was repos- ing complacently on mere external ceremonies. The Pharisee, on the one hand, placed all religion in mere external morality. The Sadducee, on the other hand, destroyed all religion by denying the immortality of the soul. Was such the condition of the Jews, what was the state of the Gentiles ? Darker still. The nations had sunk into the most abject ignorance on moral topics, and were calling on their wise men for light and knowledge, but all in vain. The speculations of human reason, the refinements of human philosophy, all the elegant accomplishments of the Augustan age, had utterly failed in elevating the morals and restraining the vices of men. Yea, their gods were hideous mon- sters, debauchery and crime. There was not a single A CHRISTMAS STORY. 103 vice, in the dark catalogue of human enormities, which was not shamelessly perpetrated under the sanction of some one of those innumerable gods and goddesses before whose shrines the nations bowed. "The world by wisdom knew not God." Then it was clearly demon- strated that no attainments of poetry, eloquence, or science, however great, can supersede the necessity of divine revelation ; that a man may be affluent in all the riches of learning, and glittering in all the attractions of wit, and still need a teacher from heaven, a divine physician to heal his moral maladies, a supernatural light from the skies to dispel the darkness of his soul. Hence the declaration of a heathen writer of that day, that unless the gods sent down to earth a special mes- senger, the nations must wax worse and worse. Xow, in view of these facts, I a^k you, when was such a being as Jesus Christ more needed? "When was such a de- liverer more longed for? And what was calculated to give more joy to the earth than the announcement of his incarnation ? 3. The period of the incarnation was the best possi- ble period for the propagation of a new religion. Kot merely did the world expect a Saviour — not merely did the debased state of the world absolutely need his pres- ence — but the condition of the nations at that time presented peculiar facilities for the spread of a new faith. The fullness of the time had come. There was the Greek language — the language of Christ and his apostles — the language of poetry and passion, spoken throughout the civilized world — standing ready to serve as a most happy vehicle for the spread of a new religion. Never had there been a period in which there was greater intercourse between the various nations of the earth. All the large cities were filled with strangers. Mer- chants and philosophers were continually traveling from 104 ' A CHRISTMAS STORY. city to city, in searcli of wealth and knowledge. Hence we read that when Peter stood up on the day of Pente- cost and preached his first sermon, he was heard by the representatives of seventeen different nations — "Par- thians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judea, and Cappadocia, in Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers of Eome, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians, we do hear them speak in our tongues the wonderful works of God. And they were all amazed, and were in doubt, saying one to another, What meaneth this?" Aud returning to their distant homes, they spread the wondrous story. Oh what an auspicious era for the coming of our Lord! 4. The time of the advent was the time accurately foretold by the prophets of the old dispensation. The seventy weeks of Daniel were now drawing to a close. The types and ceremonies — the slaughtering of sheep and of goats — all the solemn pomp of the Jewish wor- ship, were pointing in a manner not to be misunder- stood, to the speedy coming of the Lamb of God, who, by the sacrifice ^ himself upon the Cross, would take away the sins of the world. There are nearly two hun- dred prophecies in the Old Testament Scriptures, which clearly indicated the approaching advent. One prophet had predicted the circumstances of his birth — another, the tribe from which he would spring — a third, the very month of his incarnation. Had he not then appeared at the specified time and place, the credit of the Old Testament as a divine Revelation would have been for- ever destroyed. But " behold we bring you good tidings of great joy;" for unto you was born in the city of David, a Saviour. By being so born, he has fulfilled the prophecies, abolished the sacrifices, broken down the middle wall of partition between Jew and Gentile, and A CHRISTMAS STORY. 105 has purchased everlasting salvatioo for men of every age, and tribe, and people. " Glory be to God in the highest, on earth peace, good will to men." In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, Barbarian, Scythian, bond or free — but all are one, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one church, and one heaven. 5. We come now to the most important consideration which made the incarnation of Jesus a source of " great joy to all people." " Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea," in order that he might die upon the cross for the redemption of a lost world. Or, as St. Paul ex- presses it, "When the fullness of the time was come, God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him might not perish, but have everlasting life." No wonder that a multitude of the heavenly host came down and sung glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will to men. And why all this ? Why the awful mystery of the in- carnation ? Why must the second person in the God- head be wrapt in a veil of mortal flesh ? Why born of a woman and cradled in a manger ? Man is placed under the moral government of God. 'No moral government can exist without law. No law has any force without penalty. Penalties are useless, unless they are executed. Must God reward the right- eous, Avhen they obey ? Then, for the same reason, he is bound to punish the wicked when they transgress. Could the honor of his law, could the stability of his throne, could the well-being of the universe for one moment be maintained, were he to permit the guilty to escape ? Who tlien have incurred the penalty ? Man. Who can remove the penalty ? Christ. " Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, having been made a curse for us." He bore the load. He endured the penalty. He paid down the ransom. He released 106 A CHRISTMAS STORY. the captive. lie redeemed the slave. His wounds are our healing — his groans, our songs — his death, our life — his crown of thorns, our crown of glory. But could not Christ achieve this great work, without becoming in- carnate? No. Human nature had sinned. Hence, human nature must suffer. For, " without shedding of . blood, there is no remission." Blood, then, must first be possessed, before blood could be shed. Hence the absolute necessity, that the Eedeemer should become man — man to set us an example, man to enable him to sympathize with humanity, man to suffer death in the room of the guilty. Equally essential was it, that He should be God; otherwise, his sufferings and death, however agonizing, could have had nothing meritori- ous, no more than the death of the martyrs. Christ must needs be man, to qualify him to suffer; he must needs be God, to im|)art to his sufferings infinite merit. And by virtue of his being both God and man, he of all beings in heaven and earth, is qualified to be the Re- deemer of the world. By the union of the two natures, the blood of Cah'ary becomes efficacious, and mercy flows down to a lost race. "Behold the man! How- glorious He." Are you guilty? We bring you good tidings; Christ hath delivered us from the curse of the law. Are you tempted ? Here are good tidings. " He is able to suc- cor them that are tempted." Are you bowed down under the troubles of life ? Hear him saying, " Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden." Are ye poor ? He is the poor man's friend. Are you afraid to die? He hath abolished death, and become the conqueror of the king of terrors. Finally, to one and to all, we bring good news. In the effects of his wonderful incarnation, you are all interested — of the A CHBISTMAS STORY. 107 fruits of his death, you are all invited to partake. Be- cause he became man, you may become kings and priests unto God. You may, however, neglect the offer — refuse the message — turn a deaf ear to tidings that made all heaven glad ; the time will come when this strange in- difference will be over. " Pleasure will fold her wing, and friend and lover shall to the embraces of the worm have gone." The moment you enter eternity, how changed the scene. The love of Christ, the infinite felicity of being saved, the unspeakable misery of being lost, will occupy the vast capacities of the immortal soul. THE HOPE OF THE NATIOIf. Preached in Houston, Dec. 16, 1864, by request of President Davis. ^^ For the nation and kingdom that icill not serve thee shall perish; yea, those nations shall be utterly wasted" — Isaiah 60 : 12. Nations exist only in this life. Hence, they receive all their rewards and all their pun- ishments here. And they are rewarded or punished in proportion to the degree in which they obey or trans- gress the laws of Heaven. It is a truth susceptible of the clearest moral demonstration that righteousness exalteth a nation as well as an individual, and that " Godliness is profitable for all things, having the prom- ise of the life that now is, and that which is to come." If the Gospel were permitted to exert its proper influ- ence upon the kingdoms of the world, the highest de- gree of temporal happiness and prosperity would be the sure result. Civil liberty is perched upon the standard of the Cross, and will visit every land where that stand- ard is unfurled. In the religion of the Bible we have an unfailing antidote against all those moral maladies which in past ages have brought ruin on nations. The Gospel proposes to change the hearts of men — to soften their tein^ers — to impart a holy direction to the govern- ing purposes of the soul — thus leading men to be moral and virtuous from principle ; not from constraint, but from choice — not from the dread of temporal punish- mients, but from a cheerful preference. The Gospel is opposed to ambition, the bane of empires. It forbids THE HOPE OF THE NATION. 109 reyenge, the usual cause of national conflicts. It con- demns avarice, the prolific parent of oppression, dishon- esty, and fraud. It denounces idleness, and declares that " if a man will not work, neither shall he eat." It imposes a solemn restriction on the animal appetites, "teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world," thus cutting off ten thousand avenues to miser}^, violence, and blood. The Gospel inculcates the fear of an invisible but omnipotent Jeho- vah, and thus leads men to be virtuous in secret — to reverence the obligation of oaths, upon the observance of which property, reputation, and life so frequently depend. It likewise teaches us to love our country — to defend our rights — to obey magistrates — to pity and help the poor. It elevates the female sex, and gives woman her proper rank in the social state. It proclaims the original equalit)|of the human race, and thus frowns upon the arrogant claims of kings — the divine right of the few to rule the many, of the strong to oppress the weak. Are such some of the pure and elevating principles of our holy religion, all must at once perceive that their belief and practice would exalt the nations of the earth, and make them great, glorious, and free. And there- fore, must not every community in which these princi- ples are unknown be poor and abject — a prey to misrule and faction, and, in its gradual but sure decline, soon ex- hibit a melancholy illustration of the^truth of the text, that " the nation and kingdom that will not serve God shall perish ; yea those nations shall be utterly wasted ? " But if it be true that the belief and practice of the precepts of the Gospel can alone make nations great, the remark applies with most peculiar force to a country like ours. Here the people govern themselves. All 110 THE HOPE OF THE NATION. authority and all power emanates from them. Hence if the people be not enlightened and virtuous, our ex- periment of self-government must assuredly fail. If the fountain be impure, the streams will be polluted, and will form a river of death, which will desolate and curse our fair inheritance. The waves of our unquiet sea will rise and swell as high as our mountains, and shipwreck the hopes of patriots and the world. For who, then, can rally the nation and roll back the burning tide ? Who then can guide the bark of liberty, amid the raging and the roaring of such a sea of fire ? It is idle to say that the enforcement of our wise and equitable laws will, witliout the moral power of the Gospel, ensure our continued prosperity. How can laws bind the heart and purify the motives ? How can laws repress selfishness, or curb ambition, or eradicate volup- tuousness and pride ? The worst enemies to civil liberty are offenses which human laws caff never reach. Hu- man laws are restricted to the government of external actions, and only such actions as are grossly wrong, and wiiich can be proved by competent witnesses; while the great mainsprings of vice and corruption, lying deep within the soul, remain unreached and unchecked. There must then be a profound reverence for Almighty God resting upon the spirit— an inward love of virtue — a solemn regard to the retributions of eternity, or crime and passion will rage in defiance of all law. The streams of corruption, originating in the recesses of the unsanctified heart, will rise and swell until they burst through every barrier, and our glory and our country will sink down amid the vortex of revolutions. Nations are like volcanoes ; they contain within their own bow- els the seeds of ruin ; and if God takes off his hand they will explode, scattering far and wide the fragments of their greatness. "Manners," says Chatham, "have THE HOPE OF THE NATION. Ill more influence than laws." Public sentiment, especially in a country like ours, is superior to all legislation. For it matters not Iioav good and wholesome may be our written code, it will remain forever a dead letter if there be not public virtue in the mass of the people, sufficient to sustain the officers in its execution. Now, can the diftusion of knowledge, the spread of education, of itself, perpetuate our free institutions? There are no moral qualities in intellect. A man may be glittering in all the attractions of wit, and rich in all the gifts of fancy, and still have within him the heart of a demon. Science is a mere instrument which may be turned either to good or bad account. So that, while knowledge does not of itself corrupt, it does not of itself purify. History lifts her venerable voice and declares that those countries and ages that have been most distinguished for the arts and sciences, have also been most conspicuous for voluptuousness and crime, thus showing that the era of moral dissolution may follow close upon that of the highest intellectual cul- ture. At no period were scientific pursuits more pop- ular in France than during her terrible revolution, when blood flowed in streams down the streets of her capital, and crimes, enough to make devils blush, were daily perpetrated under the sacred name of Liberty. . Nor can national wealth, of itself, preserve the liber- ties of our country. From the manner in which our politicians and public men talk, it is evident that they look upon riches as the chief element of national great- ness. Hence their frequent and noisy harangues upon the currency, the taxes, the revenues, and trade. But his- tory declares that national opulence has always been del- eterious to national virtue — cooling the patriot's ardor, impairing moral principle, weakening both mind and body, and disqualifying men to defend their country. 112 THE HOPE OF THE NATION. The history of our present war shows that the poor have been more prompt to rush to the conflict than the rich. All, therefore, that is done to accumulate wealth and stimulate the nation's thirst for gain, is only providing fuel to the flames which will consume us. The greater our wealth, the more speedy our downfall, nnless the power of the Gospel come to the rescue, and teach the people self-denial, curb their avarice, inculcate prin- ciples of honesty, and hold up the claims of God and of the soul. Where is Babylon, and Athens, and Rome, those ancient depositories of wealth ? Their pomp has gone down to the grave, and the noise of their viols has ceased; and from their gray ruins comes np a voice which seems to say : " Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom ; let not the mighty man glory in his might ; let not the rich man glory in his riches, but let him that glorieth, glory in the Lord." " For the nation and kingdom that will not serve God shall perish ; yea, those nations shall be utterly wasted." Let it then be proclaimed aloud this day, throughout the whole length aud breadth of the land, that nothing but an enlightened public sentiment, under the control of religious principle, can maintain the ascendency over corruption, and preserve our country. Tell us not of our wise legislation, of our patriotism, and of our armies. Tell us not that in a nation like ours, wealth is joower, or that talent is power, or that knowledge is power, or that law is power, or that bayonets are power. There is a declaration that must be placed above them all, viz. : Truth is 2^owe7\ Wealth cannot purchase it, talent can- not refute it, knowledge cannot overreach it, laws can- not silence it, bayonets cannot crush it. Fling it into the most tremendous billows of popular commotion, cast it into the seven-fold heated furnace of the tyrant's wrath, it will mount aloft like the ark on the waves of THE HOPE OF THE NATION. 113 the deluge ; it wiH walk like the Son of God, untouched amid the burning fiery furnace. Truth — evangelic truth; a profound reverence for Almighty God ; a deep sense of personal responsibility, pervading all classes from the lowest to the most exalted, it is this (in con- I'unction with education and the love of liberty) which will preserve our country, and make it a blessing to our descendants and the world. And now, in view of all that has been said, let us here pause, and ask ourselves this solemn question: What are we, as a nation, doing to uphold and spread these great principles, which are essential to the per- petuity of our free institutions ? How are we acting in view of the fact that " righteousness exalteth a na- tion/' and that the nation and kingdom that will not serve God, shall perisli ? Have we no national sins to mourn over ? Are there no indications among us of an alarming degeneracy ? Is there nothing in the signs of the times forcing the conviction upon the Christian patriot's heart, that we, as a people, are forsaking the God of our fathers, and are cherishing in our bosom the seeds of national ruin ? Bear in mind that the con- nection between national sins and national ruin is not arbitrary — it is natural. God does not usually destroy guilty nations by a miracle. The people that will not serve God shall perish, as the legitimate result of their own conduct. They destroy themselves. And what are some of our national sins ? Must we not place prominently in the list the wide-spread dese- cration of the Sabbath ; thousands making the day a season for secular business, or of festivity and gossip ; the transaction of official duties under the plea of mili- tary necessity; the example of our governors, our judges, our congressmen, and our military officers, who are notorious for their neglect of public worship. Look 114 THE HOPE OF THE NATION. at intemperance, with its kindred vices of profanity, lewdness, and gambling ; the awful increase of conjugal infidelity; military libertines and gaily attired Avantons, unblushingly parading all our towns, and jostling honest men's wives and daughters ; the growing laxity of family discipline; the withdrawal of the requisite means to support the Gospel, and the conseqent ne- cessity of ministers engaging in secular pursuits to sustain their families; the wide-spread speculations and exorbitant prices in reference to the necessaries of life ; the frauds and peculations in our various army bureaux ; the corruption of the press ; the neglect of the duties of masters to their slaves; the neglect of the families of our brave soldiers who have gone far from home to fight the battles of our country. Are these some of our national sins ? What then must be our doom, unless speedy repentance and ref- ormation interpose? "Shall not the Lord visit for these things, and shall not he be avenged on such a nation as this ? " And may he not give us over to our own lusts, a prey ? A lingering decay is worse than a sudden overthrow. A nation dies when everything great and good dies in it. The name may live after the glory has departed. Talk not of our written Constitution, glorious as it is — immortal as we hope it may be. Political security dwells not in the letter, but in the spirit of our free in- stitutions. Yet many deem all safe, so long as the letter is safe. Death does not take away the soul and body both. Life may have departed, and yet not an artery, or bone, or fiber be removed. And so the spirit of a government may perish, and not a line or letter of its written constitution be effaced. When usurpation comes in, masked and hypocritical, its abiding place is usually the dead letter of a once free Constitution. THE HOPE OF THE NATION. 115 beheld Augustus Caesar wielding imperial power amid the forms of a dead republic. The safest place of despotism is the vacant temple of freedom — a woeful desecration, like the temple of God turned into the mart of the money changers. Finally, I call upon all, in view of our alarming con- dition, to prostrate themselves before the mighty Ruler of the Universe. Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God. Be afflicted and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned into mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Let your prayer be, " Spare, oh Lord, spare thy people, and give not thy heritage to reproach." Forget not that the sins of the nation are the sins of the individuals who compose it. Let each one, then repent of his personal sins. Let each one enquire how far he has, by his example, contributed to swell the guilt of the land, and excite the wrath of the Almighty. We read that when Nineveh was threatened by the prophet Jonah, the king proclaimed a fast. " ' And he arose from his throne, and he laid his robe from him, and covered himself with sackcloth, and sat in ashes.' And the whole city was clad in the habiliments of sor- row. Yea, the very cattle were deprived of their usual sustenance, that by their mournful lowing, they might increase the solemnity of the occasion. And, in con- sequence of this public and universal humiliation, the Lord spared the city. If, on this day, set apart as a season of national fasting and prayer, our honored Chief Magistrate, with his distinguished associates in the government, has cast aside the pomp and ceremoni- als of office, and has prostrated himself in humility before his God, and if a loud and fervent cry for mercy has ascended from a million of penitent hearts in all parts of this bleeding country, may we not humbly trust that our prayers will be heard ; that our sins as 116 THE HOPE OF THE NATION. a nation shall be blotted out, that the judgments of heaven will be arrested, and that rich and abundant blessings such as God alone can besto^v, will visit all our borders ? ' Then shall the earth yield her increase ; and God, even our own God, shall bless us.' " THE GLOEY OF THE OHUECH. Preached at Bethel Church (near Oakland College), on taking the pastoral charge of said church, April 23, 1843. " The King^s daughter is all glorious luithin." — Psalm 45 : 13. This language is figurative. By " the King's daughter " is meant the Church. And by the Church is meant — the body of all true believers of every name and country, however separated by national or ecclesiastical barriers. What, are we informed, consti- tutes the glory of the Church? Something which is internal. " The King's daughter is all glorious within." JSTow, if the glory of the universal Church be internal, the glory of every particular branch of the Church must be internal likewise. Because, whatever is true of the whole, must be true of all the several parts. Conse- quently the glory of every individual Christian, as well as of every particular denomination, is internal glory — the glory of the inner man — a glory arising not from external splendor, but from internal tempers and graces. " The King's daughter is all glorious within." " The kingdom of heaven is not meat and drink, but right- ousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." Taking the text as our infallible guide, let us pro- ceed to enquire in what consists the true glory of a par- ticular local church or denomination of Christians. In w^hat does it not consist ? 1. It does not necessarily consist in wealth. The pos- session of ample pecuniary means is not essential to the health or vigor of a particular denomination. The 118 THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH. moral power of a Church is often impaired instead of being increased by the influence of great temporal re- sources. There are two forms in which a Church may possess wealth. It may consist either in the wealth of its individual members, or in the possession of vested funds. If in the former, these results will most gener- ally follow — a sufficiency of pecuniary means to sustain the Church is obtained without a struggle; conse- quently there exists no powerful cause to beget a deep sense of dependence on God. The pecuniary burdens of the Church, are, in that case, usually borne by a few. These few, because of their wealth or importance, are strongly tempted to arrogate to themselves dangerous prerogatives, to frown upon their poor brethren, aud even to interfere with the pastor in the faithful dis- charge of his duties. Or, does the wealth of a Churcli consist in vested funds ? Consequences still more inju- rious are liable to ensue. These funds give rise to a spirit of contention. Various and contradictory are the plans proposed for their disbursement; and hypocritical and designing men often insinuate themselves into the pale of the Church, and pervert these funds from their original purposes. Facts to substantiate these remarks might be easily adduced. But let a denomination be comparatively poor ; let it experience difficulty as it respects its pecuniary con- cerns, and this very difficulty will prove a benefit. It will beget a sense of dependence of God. It will tend to awake up the energies of the whole Church; to bring into requisition the services of every member, and cause every individual to feel that he is called upon to bear his part of the common burden. And just in proportion to the difficulties to be encountered, and in proportion to the degree in which these difficulties are met and borne by the entire mass of the Church, will the interest THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH. 119 which will be uwukened, and the energy tind vigor which will pervade the entire denomination. For noth- ing tends more powerfully to cement societies or empires together, than a sense of common weakness, or an ap- prehension of common danger. And nothing is more calculated to beget a deep interest in any object or pos- session, than the labor and care which have been be- stowed upon it. Comparative poverty, pecuniary diffi- culties, personal self-denial, often aid materially in building up a Church. 2. The glory of a Church does not consist in mem- bers. How often has a feeling of despondency insensi- bly pervaded a denomination and paralyzed its energies, merely from the fe"\vuess of its adherents; from a small membership — a thin audience. And, on the other hand, how frequently have very unholy feelings and sentiments been begotten, from the fact that the Church is large, its members numerous, and its stated services attract crowds of hearers. There is something exceedingly flat- tering to human pride, in the face of numbers. The consciousness that our cause is popular — that we are enrolled with the majority — that there is a large multi- tude who are acting in concert with us — is calculated to beget a train of feelings by no means in accordance with the humility of the Gospel. Under such circumstances, the Church is in danger of being caressed merely be- cause it is fashionable. There is great danger, also, that excitement will be mistaken for religion, that persons may be admitted upon very slight inquiry into their qualifications, and that hypocrites and designing per- sons may enroll themselves among the dominant party, golely from selfish and sinister purposes ; until, erelong, the Church, trusting wholly to her own strength, loses sight of her great heavenly reliance. But, on the con- trary, what more clearly indicates the sincerity and ster- 120 THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH. ling integrity of a Church ? When her friends adhere to her through evil as well as through good report; even when her members are few, when her cause is unpopu- lar, and the w^orld treat her with contempt. Then her friends, few and solitary, cling more closely around her. Then their hearts become knit together as the heart of one man ; and trusting not to an arm of flesh, rely more implicitly on the arm of the Lord. Then it is they can plead the promise of Scripture — "Fear not, little flock," " Where two or three are met together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Oh, it is easy and pleasant to go with the multitude. But to stem the current ; to breast the storm ; to maintain an attach- ment to a cause which has but few adherents ; it is this which tests the character ; it is this which lightens all the Christian graces, and evinces a lofty and magnani- mous soul. 3. The glory of a Church does not consist in impos- ing and attractive forms of worship ; in the eloquence of her ministry ; in the splendor of her architecture ; in the visible impressiveness of her stated ceremonies. History declares that the Church has often flourished most and been most glorious within, when persecuted without ; when her members have had to take refuge in caves and mountain-tops from the storms of persecutions. True, there is no essential inconsistency between true piety and impressive external ceremonies. But when does there exist the greatest danger of mistaking mere forms for true religion ? of substituting the excitement of the imagination for the devotion of the heart ? It is when wealth, and taste, and fashion combine their influence to array Christianity in borrowed plumes beneath the splendid domes of some time-hallowed pile ; where the dim religious light streams through carved openings, and architecture and dazzling priestly vestments com- THE GLORY OF THE CHUBCH. 121 bine with the solemn music of the full-toned organ, to impart an unearthly grandeur to the scene. There the senses may be feasted while the heart remains untouched. There tears may flow, but not the tears of penitence. There the whole soul may be elevated by a species of ecstasy ; and after gaziug for an hour upon the gaudy pantomime, return with greater zest to the lusts of pleas- ure of an irreligious. Oh, be not deceived ; " God is a spirit, and they that worshij^ him must worship him in spirit and in truth." Having thus briefly dwelt upon the negative part of our subject, we come now to dwell upon its positive import. Having shown in what the glory of the Church does not consist, let us now^ show in what it does con- sist. The text declares that it consists in something wiiich is internal. "The king's daughter is all glorious within." 1. The glory of the Church consists in her doctrinal purity: in her being the depository of the truth — the advocate and the guardian of the great lead- ing doctrines of the Gospel. A sound and scrij^tural creed lies at the foundation of all holy obedience. Where there exists in a Church no doctrinal purity, it is impos- sible long to maintain holiness of heart and life among her members. There can be no elevated morality where there are no sound religious princii^les. If we think wrong we will act wrong. The creed and the conduct will always go together. Hence, where a Church is un- sound in her doctrines, she will be unsound and unholy in her practice. Hence, God has committed to his Church the sacred principles and ordinances of the Gos- pel, and the Church is commanded to maintain them at all hazards, and transmit them pure and unadulterated from age to age. To this end, we are commanded to " contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints" — "to buy the truth and sell it not" — "to write 6 122 THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH. it upon our hearts" — "to bind it as frontlets upon our foreheads, and to teach it to our children, and to medi- tate upon it when we lie down, and when we rise up." When, then, is the '' King's daughter all glorious with- in?" When her ministers and her members proclaim to the world that there is but one living and true God — existing in three persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost — that the Scriptures are the only infallible guide of faith and practice — that man is a sinner, lost and ruined by the fall — his whole soul utterly depraved and exposed to the wrath and curse of God — that salva- tion can be obtained only through the blood of Jesus Christ — that the heart must be regenerated by the power of fhe Holy Ghost — that man must lead a holy life, or else his profession of religion is vain — " that God has appointed a day in which he will judge the world," " when the Lord Jesus will descend from heaven with a shout," " when the heavens shall pass away, and the ele- ments shall melt with fervent heat." When these great truths are believed in all sincerity — proclaimed from the pulpit with all fidelity, and when they produce a holy influence upon the external conduct of those who be- lieve them, then the glory of the Church will shine forth, and '- Zion will arise from the dust, put on her beautiful garments, and appear, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners." 2. The glory of a church consists in her spirituality— in her cultivation of heart-religion — in her tenderness of feeling, ardor of love, and fervency of devotion. Let none suppose we would exalt mere orthodoxy of creed above the more important possession of experimental godliness. No : faith without works is dead. Such a faith will save no man. It will only deepen his future damnation. "For he that knoweth his Master's will and doeth it not, the same shall be beaten with many THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH. 123 stripes." An orthodox creed without a holy heart, is a mere shadow without substance — a house without a foundation — a dead carcass without an animating prin- ciple of life — a palace of ice, beautiful externally, but within it is chilliness and death. "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, or love, it profiteth me nothing." And what is this love, to which the apostle attaches such infinite value ? Love for communion with God — love for secret prayer — love for the Holy Scriptures — love for the Lord Jesus Christ — love for the ordinances of the Church — love for all true Christians — love for our bitterest enemies. Oh, it is when Christians entertain these feelings, that the Church becomes " all glorious within." 3. The glory of a Church consists in the harmony of its members. " Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity ! It is like precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard ; that went down to the skirts of his garments; as the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion : for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore." Nothing more powerfully illustrates the divinity of our holy religion, than a oneness of feeling, of sentiment, and of action, among its professors. And why should it not be so? How gloriously was this ex- hibited on the day of Pentecost: "And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one ac- cord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled 124 THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH. all the house Avliere they were sitting. And there ap- peared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance." Then was the Church '*all glorious within." Christians bore the im- j)ress of the divine image in their hearts, and brought forth the fruits of holiness in their lives. Ministers and people felt a common impulse. They had one heart, one hope, and one interest. "The love of Christ con- strained them," and losing sight of all party feuds and personal animosities, they were wholly absorbed in one sublime object, the glory of God, and the salvation of the souls of men. And that object was attained. The Holy Ghost came down, and three thousand were added in one day. Now let Christians in our day, unite to- gether in the same harmonious union — let them all come together with one accord, in one place — full of faith, full of zeal, full of brotherly love, and effects as glorious would be sure to follow. The whole united energy of the Church, concentrated in this one grand object, would call down the influences of the spirit of God. A deep solemnity would pervade all classes. But why the low state of piety in the Church ? The aliena- tions, the strifes, and the unhallowed divisions of Chris- tians. "One is for Paul, another for Apollos, and few for Christ." One finds fault with the preacher ; another complains of being slighted by his brethren; a third is given to a continued spirit of fault-finding ; and mur- muring, and envyings, and heart-burnings mar the beauty of Zion. " And the Spirit, like a peaceful dove, flees from the scenes of noise and strife." UNIVEESAL BENEVOLENCE. An address preached before the Young Men's Christian Association of Houston, August, 1873. ^' As we have, therefore, opporhmiti/, let us do good unto all men; especially to them, who are of the house- hold of faith." — Gulatians, G : 10. Those who "are of the household of faith," have special claims upon the benevolence of their brethren ; for they have com- menced a life of peculiar trials, have espoused a cause to which is often attached peculiar odium, and against which are often arrayed enemies of no common viru- lence. Hence they need a peculiar and unusual share of fraternal sympathy and aid. From these considera- tions, however, we are by no means to infer that this class of our fellow-men are to be exclusive objects of our love. We must " do good unto all men." Where'er there is a sufferer throughout the immense brotherhood of man, there must love hover on her downy pinion. Like the knight-errant in the days of chivalry, who roamed the earth to punish proud oppressors, and vin- dicate the trodden-down rights of the friendless, so must man sally forth with a hand to succor and a heart to feel ; prompt to every call of mercy ; equipped, as op- portunity may present, to dispel ignorance, to soothe sorrow, to reclaim the wanderer from the path of virtue, and wipe the cold sweat from the brow of the dying. / shall attempt to advocate the claims of universal henevolence. Why 7nust we do good unto all men ? 126 UNIVEESAL BENEVOLENCE. 1. Universal benevolence constitutes the true dignity of man. Under no other garb does human nature present a more sublime aspect. He who is actuated by the ex- pansive spirit of doing good ; he who aspires to be not a mere passive recipient, but an active, a muniticent dis- tributer of blessings, feels that he is born for a high and noble destiny. Hence he learns to look down with abhorrence upon all that is base, tyrannical, and bigoted. He gradually gains the mastery over his evil passions; bursts the chains of selfishness and pride; overleaps the narrow bounds of sectarian exclusiveness ; obtains an effectual antidote against the undue love of money, and throws wqde the doors of his heart to the entrance of every generous and philanthropic impulse^ Must not that be the most exalted species of human nobleness, which gives birth to feelings and results like these ? The possession of this virtue constitutes the true dignity of man, for it leads directly and necessarily to an ob- servance of the holy Decalogue. " Love is the fulfilling of the law." Let universal benevolence become the prevailing temper of the heart. And how can its pos- sessor, for one moment, endure the thought of assailing a fellow-mortaj's person, or breathing a whisper of calumny against his reputation, or violating his rights of property, or coveting his dear and most cherished possessions? Benevolence is man's true dignity, for it assimilates him to all the great and noble beings in the universe. It causes him to bear some resemblance to Almighty God. "God is love." His very existence constitutes a boundless ocean of benevolence. It causes him to resemble the Lord Jesus Christ, that glorious Prince of benefactors. It elevates him to a place among the most exalted and renowned spirits that have ever trod the earth — the Washingtons, the La Fayettes, and UNIVERSAL BENEVOLENCE. 127 the Howards ; men avIio lived, and toiled, and wept for the good of their fellow-men ; the effects of whose bene- factions will be coeval with Time ; the measure of whose fame will be boundless as Eternity. It is the spirit of expanded benevolence which lives and breathes through all the works of nature. Every object througliout the vast material univej'se, seems to exist on ])urpose to do good, to communicate blessings to other beings, while it apparently makes no provision for itself The glori- ous sun, the rolling ocean, the rivers, the silvery moun- tain streamlet, the many-colored rainbow, the enameled flowers, the dappled morn, the bending fruits of autumn — all, all are continually pouring forth streams of pure beneficence into the laj:) of man, whilst they take back no blessing in return. All nature is '* beauty to the eye, or music to the ear." And will that which gives so much loveliness and grandeur to nature, impart no moral sublimity and dignity to man ? 2. Universal benevolence constitutes the true happi- ness of man. All those other sources to which mankind usually re- sort for pleasure — such as fame, wealth, exemption from pain and care — are often very difficult to be found; or if found, are most difficult to be retained ; or if retained, and indulged in beyond a certain limit, recoil upon the heart surcharged with a load of remorse, satiety, and disgust. But here is one pure fountain, to which every thirsty soul may have free and unobstructed access. The crystal streams flow perennially. The channel never dries. Of its healthful waters full and frequent draughts may be imbibed, and lU) loathing disrelish will e'er ensue. The pleasures of benevolence are of two kinds : posi- tive and negative. It creates happiness; it prevents ?nis- ery. And if the blessing of benevolence was merely of 128 UNIYEESAL BENEVOLENCE. the latter kind, it would constitute the most desirable of all possessions. For, let it once gain entrance into the heart, and how instantaneously will it drive out a legion of diabolical passions — envy, anger, covetousness, revenge — passions that rankle in the heart like barbed arrows, sting like scorpions, gnaw like vultures ; and ever aud anon bursting forth like the smoldering fires of a hidden volcano, roll their scalding lava over society. But pour the oil of pure philanthropy into the soul, and the billows cease to roll ; the storm subsides into a placid calm. Is this the only species of negative happiness which benevolence occasions ? It is not. The God of heaven has so constituted man, that not more than one-half of his existence is absolutely requisite for needful toil, sleep, and animal indulgence. Consequently, as a gen- eral rule, every human being has a large surplus of time, talent, and energy, over and above what is neces- sary for his own use. A very important question then here arises: How shall this siirphisage be enqjloyed? In what way shall it be expended? To what cause shall it be sacredly devoted ? Benevolence would gladly step in and borrow it of man ; and after having employed it in her sacred service, pour a glorious compensation into the owner's bosom. But man will not accept of the overture. This precious capital, instead of being made to yield a daily revenue of unalloyed pleasure, is most wickedly perverted ; and by being so, generates a countless train of woes. " What shall we do to get rid of this useless portion of our existence? how shall we kill time?" is the constant aim of multitudes. One seems to aspire to no higher honor than the life of a mere animal. He has eat and drank and slept like a stall-fed ox, until at last he can endure it no longer. And linked to his species by no strong ties of sympa- UNIVERSAL BENEVOLENCE. 129 thetic feeling, absorbed and elevated by no grand object of pursuit, life becomes an intolerable burden ; the world, a gloomy prison-house ; and raising his suicidal hand, he plunges the dagger to his own heart, and rushes un- bidden into eternity. AuQther has too great dread of death, thus suddenly to let go his hold on life. But still, he has unoccupied time and unemployed energies, which hang heavy on liis hands; and what shall he do with them ? He turns lazy monk, or musing anchorite. Behold a third. He has spent many a year of toil and care, to accumulate wealth. At last he has attained his object. And now what shall he do with the remainder of his days? How shall he enjoy his dear-bought pos- sessions ? V Oh, this he will do : he will retire from busi- ness, and having bought him a beautiful villa far from the bustling throng, he Avill there doze out the remainder of his days in calm retirement — a second Cincinnatus or Sage of Monticello ; forgetting, however, tliat he has no fountains of enjoyment, as they had, in his own breast. And no sooner, then, is he fairly housed in his new retreat, than he falls a prey to the most morbid melan- choly; and unless he speedily retake himself to his former bustling occupation, he will die of premature old age, or sink into all the whims and frailties of a second childhood. Behold a fourth. He is determined that lie will not die, like his purse-proud neighbor, of gout or ennui; but will keep on at the goodly and respectable occupation of making money. Wan and care-worn, he pursues his ceaseless round — counts his bags and cons his ledger; until at last he falls a victim to a most wretched monomania; avarice lays her cold clutches upon his stinted soul; money, money, is his god — "give, give," like the horse-leech's daughter. And finally, death tears him from his idol, and throws his worthless body to the worms. There is still another, perhaps 130 UNIVERSAL BENEVOLENCE. somewhat singular in the plan he adopts, to squander the precious surplus capital with which nature hath en- dowed him : "This is your modern man of fashion— A man of taste and dissipation : A busy man without employment, A happy man without enjoyment. In sleep, and dress, and sport, and play, He throws his worthless life away. Has no opinion of his own, But takes from leading beaux the ton. Custom pursues, his only rule, And lives an ape and dies a fool." Now what a blessed antidote to all these miserable modes of dragging out life, of murdering existence, does benevolence propose. Take that surplus of time, talent, and energy, which you do not need lor your own wants, and the squandering of which causes so much sin and folly, and expend it in the cause of others. " Go about doing good." Open thine eyes upon a world of misery. Instruct the ignorant, reclaim the vicious, espouse the cause of the friendless. Seek out retiring merit and unrequited virtue from tlieir secret abodes, and demand for them a public reward. Aid in sending the Gospel to the heathen. Oh, let the wail of the orphan and the tears of the widow — let the piteous tale of the penniless, the groans that issue from dungeons and battle-fields, from families escaping from their blazing habitations, and mariners wrecked upon the ocean, reach thine ears, and pierce thine heart, and nerve thy soul to noble deeds of charity. Then thine energies will never stagnate; then thy sympathies in life will never expire for want of nutriment ; then thou wilt never become a prey to melancholy, nor life hang heavy on thy hands, because of no great object of pursuit to give healthful occupa- tion to thy powers. UNRTEKS^U. BENEVOLENCE. 131 Such are some of the mere negative portions of the pleasures of benevolence. But, in addition to all this, she has happiness of a jjositive kind, joys of her own creation, pure fountains in the heart, of which none can taste but their own possessor. For there is the fervent prayer of the poor; tliere is the tear of gratitude trick- ling down the cheek; and the heart-felt invocation of heaven's richest blessing on thy soul, uttered by him thou hast so timely succored. There, too, is the joy of giving, the luxury of doing good, sweeter to the soul than music's richest melody, or the gush of water in the desert to the thirsty pilgrim. Oh, if there be a foretaste of angel's food on earth, it is the consciousness of having done a noble action, of having dried a mourner's tears, or stanched one bleeding w^onnd in sorrow's breast. " This world's not ' all a fleeting sliow, For man's illusion given ; ' He tliat hatli soothed a widow's woe. Or wiped an orphan's tears, doth know There is something here of heaven." "It is more blessed to give than to receive." "The liberal soul shall be made fat; and he that watereth, shall be watered also himself" While he that has no boon to bestow upon his species, is the meanest of all God's creatures. He has no music in his soul. He is " Creation's blot, creation's blank ; Whom none can love, whom none can thank." Power will cause you to be feared; learning, to be admired ; wealth and beauty, to be flattered. But naught but benevolence will cause you to be truly loved. And when thou diest, tears of gratitude will be poured out like sweet incense on thy tomb, and children yet unborn shall lisp with reverence thy name. 3. The virtue which we advocate is the very essence of true piety. 13'2 UNIYERSAL BENEVOLENCE. In proof of tliis position, hear tlie plain and positive declarations of God's word. 1 John 4 : 20 : " If a man say, I love God, aod hateth his brother, he is a liar; for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen ? " James 2 : 15, 16: "If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food; and one of you say unto them, depart in peace, be ye warmed, and filled; notwithstanding ye give them uot those things which are needful to the body ; what doth it profit ? " " Pure religion and unde- filed before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep one's self unspotted from the world." And at the awful day of judgment, after the glorious temple of truth and righteousness, which is now erecting on this earth, shall have received its completion, and " Grace, Grace," shall be the shout of heaven's anthem at the laying of the top-stone, and when the mighty Architect shall come down to review the work, and knock away this external scaffolding, and pay off the laborers, " then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory ; and before him shall be gathered all nations; and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. And he shall set the sheep on the right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say to them on his right hand. Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the founda- tion of the world. For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in ; naked, and ye clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous (bowed down with a sense of their great unworthiness and many im- perfections) answer him, saying, Lord, when sa^ we thee an hungered, and fed thee ? or thirsty, and gave UNIYERSAL BENEVOLENCE. 133 thee drink ? When stiw we tlice - })er corner of Lalayette square, within a square of this 170 SEm-CENTENNIAL OF church, all that remained of Sylvester Larned was con- veyed to the Girod street cemetery. He was a man of strong social feelings, peculiarly adapted to 2:>lease the Southern people. He had a heart "broad as the heavens and deep as the ocean." His brow was open, his eye gentle, features intellectual; in person reminding you of the Apollo Belvidere; of a sweet and affectionate disposition, and a " silver-tongued voice " that rolled music, and captivated all his hearers. Said a distinguished judge once of him, "I cannot go to hear that young man because he makes me shed tears." Mr. Clapp was a great conversationalist. His style of delivery was impressive and eloquent. His mind was neither analytical nor logical, still less, profound. He impressed his audience and had many warm per- sonal friends, whom he retained even after he left this city, and Avho generously contributed to his support until his death at Louisville in 1866. The Eev. Mr. Parker, who followed Mr. Clapp, walked from his home in Vermont to Union College at Schenectady, New York. He represented to the pro- fessors that his father was a poor farmer and a revolu- tionary soldier, that he could not afford to furnish the money required for his education, but that if they would give him work, he would try and repay them for the trouble and expense of his graduation. The pro- fessors were pleased with his determination, and Parker studied for the ministry. He was a man of great de- cision of character, vigorous and logical, plaiii in person, not prepossessing in feature, and not calculated to ob- tain and keep personal friends. Yet he was a man spoken of as having the highest order of talent as a minister of the Gospel. In the summer of 1831 he was sent North to solicit subscriptions in the larger cities, for the PEESBYTERIANISM IN NEW ORLEANS. 171 purpose of obtaining, if possible, a sum sufficient to finish the church tiien building. While on the tour it was represented that he had stated "that there were forty thousand Catholics in the city of New Orleans who were atheists, and that the Protestants were no better." This statement was published in the news- papers and copied into the Neio Orleans Bulletin, creating great excitement and indignation. Mr. Parker replied to the charges made in one of the newspapers North, denying that he had made any such statement. The Ma3'or of this city advised that "that i^riest" be sent away, and — if Mr. Maybin was not mistaken — a proclamation was issued commanding the peace. When it was known that he was returning to this city word was sent to the Balize that he be landed before the ar- rival of the packet in New Orleans, and Mr. Parker was accordingly put off at the English turn. The next day he arrived in New Orleans, and appeared upon the streets to vindicate his innocence. A meeting was called the next day at the City Hotel, at which Mr. Parker was requested to explain. He made a clear statement, but the people were not satisfied. Eesolutions were drawn up and passed, that he leave the city, that the elders of the church dismiss him, etc. A meeting of the members of the church was immediately called. Fifty attended. They one and all supported Mr. Parker as being in the right. They all believed his representation made at the City Hotel, and declared they had a right to have for a pastor whom they pleased, and they intended to maintain that right; and they did, and Mr. Parker was retained. That was a trying hour in the history of the Protestant Church in this city, but the storm was weathered. If Mr. Parker was abandoned, what secu- rity had other pastors that they would be retained. They were weak, feeble, discouraged, but they stood 172 SEMI-CENTENNIAL OF their ground and conquered. Like the weak little band of Apostles on the sea of G-alilee when they called upon the Saviour to stay the storm, while the waves ran mountain high and threatened to dash their little bark to pieces, the storm was hushed by the Master. He said to the waves "be still," and they went down. He bade the winds to cease, and they slept as gently as a babe upon the bosom of its mother. Eev. Dr. John Breckinridge, descended from the pioneer stock of Kentucky heroes, was the next pastor. A courteous aud polished gentleman, with a sweet voice and allow of native eloquence, but a feeble frame ; his brief pastorate was soon closed by death. His successor was Rev. W. A. Scott, who at the age of eighteen, en- tered the army as Chaplain, by appointment from Presi- dent Jackson, and was thus enabled to save sufiicient money to finish his theological education at Princeton. Mr. Scott was called to this position from the pastoral charge of the church at Tuscaloosa, Ala., his Presbytery, as in the case of the present pastor, having at first refused to place the call in his hands. Dr. Scott was an attractive and eloquent preacher, distinguished for his ability to set forth the truth by illustrations drawn •from all sources, whether from na- ture or the customs and institutions of men. In referring to those who rendered most effective co-operation in building up Presbyterianism in New Orleans he paid a passing tribute to the late Nathan Goodale, elder of the Lafayette Church — "whose every vein was filled with philanthropy." All honor to the little band of twenty-four, who comprised the original church organization — would you see their monument — look around upon this congregation ! " Are they not at this moment, while singing their songs of everlast- ing praise — looking down on this scene from Heaven ? " PRESBYTEIILINISM IN NEW OKLEANS. 173 You see before you the lust elder of that baud — staudiug as au isthmus betweeu the preseut aud the past, the last conuectiug liuk. It is to me a crushiug thought. Ou this occasion, and it may be my last opportunity, I desire to return my humble and heartfelt thanks to the pastor, elders, and members of this church for all the kindness I have ever received at their hands. And now I want to declare that it is my wish to die in the service of this honored church ; and that my children and children's children may die in the same faith. I stand here — a brand snatched from the burning. And when I die let it be inscribed on my coffin over my heart, "It is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I — I — I — am chief! '* The congregation then sang, " I love tliy Kingdom, Lord." Dr. Smith then read the following historical paper : CTHE ORIGII^ AN'D GROWTH OF PRESBYTERIA:NISM IN" THE SOUTHWEST. The history of our Church in New Orleans, belongs to the history of the Church in the Southwest. We shall better appreciate the significance of the chapter which concludes our work, if we glance at the more general movement of which it forms such an important part. To do this, we must go back into the past more than a quarter of a century before our work in the city was organized ; even to the times when the tide of our immigration was first turned in this direction. The settlement of the Southwest was much encour- aged by the policy of the British GoverDment. At the close of the French war of 17G3, she obtained the 174 SEMI-CENTENNIAL OP Natchez country and East and West Florida. "West Florida was attached to the Natchez country, and set- tlers were attracted by liberal grants of land. One result — unfortunately — of our war of the Eevo- lution was, that this country was ceded back to Spain. The Natchez country thus became a Spanish Province, and continued to be for twenty years. By the Spanish authorities Protestant worship was decreed to be a criminal offense. Intolerant laws were enacted and re- morselessly enforced. Three quarters of a century ago Presbyterians at Natchez could not worship God with- out a sentinel at the door to warn them of danger. Persons detected in this crime were arrested, thrown into a filthy prison until they gave bonds not to repeat the offense, and were threatened if detected in repeating this offense to be sent to the mines of Mexico. Many were imprisoned. Among those imprisoned for holding prayer-meetings was John Bolls, a ruling elder of the Presbyterian Church, from North Carolina, who had served in the Eevolutionary war. John Bolls was not destined to slavery in the mines of Mexico, for this distressing state of things at length came to an end. On the night of March 29, 1798j the Spanish commandant evacuated the post. Next morning the American flag floated from the walls of Fort St. Rosalie, and religious liberty found shelter beneath its folds. It would be hard to enumerate the various routes by which you may gain access to the Southwest now, but in the year A. D. 1800, the best known land route was a bridle path. The Natchez trace was an Indian trail from Nashville, which could be traveled only on horse- back or on foot. It passed through tangled forests and swamps, through warlike Indian tribes, and was infested by bands of lawless desperadoes, more dreaded than the PRESBYTEMANISM IN NEW ORUEANS. 175 Indians tliemselves. Along this friendless path came Hall, Montgomery, and Bowman, missionaries sent from the Synod of the Carolinas. Amidst the perils of this adventurous journey they found, at Pontotoc, Joseph Biillen, missionary to the Indians, sent there by the Xew York Missionary Society in 1797, and after meet- ing this sympathizing laborer they entered again on their perilous journey, evaded death and outstripped starvation, and, liually, reached Natchez, the field of their future labors. These were the pioneers of our Church in the Southwest. At that time there were about seven thousand Ameri- cans in the province. From many of these the mission- aries met a cordial reception. With Natchez as their headquarters, they entered on their work, and visited the settlements, and established preaching places ; gathering up the scattered Presbyterians and forming them into communities, soon to grow up into organized churches. In a year or two they returned home. But Joseph Bullen, the Indian missionary, took up the work they had begun. Coming southward in 1803, he preached with great acceptability to these congregations. And in A. D. 1804, it was his privilege to organize the first Pres- byterian church established in the Southwest. It was well named Bethel. It has survived, too, the many changes that have intervened, and is existing still. For years afterwards, the Synod of the Carolinas con- tinued to send missionaries to this field, and other churches were organized from time to time. At length the need of Presbyterial jurisdiction came to be felt. At that time the general jurisdiction of this region was vested in the Synod of Kentucky. Ten years after the first church was organized, the Synod of Kentucky was overtured to establish the Presbylery of Mississippiy which? was done a. d. 1815. And the name of John 176 SEMI-CENTENNIAL OF Bolls stands first on the list of its ruling elders, as the representative of the first church organized in the South- west. In the year 1818, the honored name of Sylvester Larned was added to the list of its members. And in 1823 the Presbyterian Church in New Orleans was placed upon its roll, and two important streams of in- fluence coalesced, to form thereafter but one current of moral energy. The Presbytery of Mississippi, when organized, formed part of the Synod of Kentucky. The movement of population, and the expansion of our church, involved certain changes in its subsequent relations. In 1817, it was associated with the Synod of Tennessee. In 1826, we find it placed upon the roll of the Synod of West Tennessee. But in 18,29, in connection with other Presbyteries, which appear to have been set off from its territory, it was erected into a Synod, called the Synod of Mississippi and South Alabama. In 1835, three Presbyteries were set off from this growing Synod to form the Synod of Alabama, and from that time it is known as the Synod of Mississipjn. God so prospered this Synod, that in 1817 it became necessary to divide it again, an(i four more Presbyteries were set off to form the Synod of Mejnphis. And in 1851, three more of its Presbyteries were erected into the Synod of Texas. And in 1852, out of the territory ceded to the Synod of Memphis, there was formed still another Synod, the Synod of Arkansas. In the light of this interesting record, the unity of sentiment and harmony of purpose which have hitherto prevailed among us in the Southwest, cannot seem sur- prising. Our membership is largely drawn by descent from the Presbyterian stock of the best of the older com- munities ; bound together by strong ecclesiastic^ fam- PRESBYTEKIANISM IN NEW OrvLE.\.NS. 177 i]y-iies; linked together in common interests, and labor- ing shoulder to shoulder in a common cause ; we con- stitute, to a large extent, a homogeneous Presbyterianism, whose moral influence, if combined and wisely directed, must prove a permanent benefit to the world. The piety of those formative times was bold and ag- gressive. For many years, while the country as yet was new, camp-meetings were annually held at some central point, easy of access to a wide region of country. To these points people from long distances Avould come, to spend a week or two in waiting on God, and seeking his face. Immense assemblies would congregate in these cathedrals of the wilderness, and great religious revivals were often the result. The utmost decorum prevailed on such occasions, and unbounded hospitality made all comers welcome. It was not unusual for the Presbyteries to convene at these meetings. And on one occasion, as we told, a meeting of the Synod was held. The style of doing the work of the Gospel was adapted to the needs of the times. And the work was blessed. These meetings were not discontinued until facilities for public worship became more abundant, when the necessity for them had accordingly passed away. The spirit of the Synod, also, was a missfonary spirit. With such men as Montgomery, Smylie, Kingsbury, Alfred Wright, Moore, and Chase, men of apostolic zeal, amongst its members, it could not be otherwise. Such men prosecuted their missionary work under its juris- diction. After the manner of the Synod of the Caro- linas, it sent out its evangelists into the broad domain of Texas, as soon as the Republic was established. And we find it overturing the Assembly to consider the ques- tion of sending missionaries to Mexico and Oregon. lb never shrunk from the call to press the evangelistic work in any direction. So that, in the course of time. 178 SEMI-CENTENNIAL OF there has passed under its jurisdiction a territory which stretches from Georgia to the Rio Grande, and which reaches northward far enough to include the State of Arkansas, and the Indian nation. Texas will have a religious history of its own, and it will be characteristic, as it ought to be. It will be found that it was born in battle — the offspring of that struggle for constitutional liberty which planted Travis, Bonham, and Crockett, with their little band of heroes, in the path of the ferocious army of Santa Anna. The massacre of the Alamo, in 1836, was undoubtedly the Thermopylae of civil and religious liberty for the far Southwest. That form of Christianity will best succeed among its diversified and scattered communities which most clearly enunciates the simple principles of the Gospel, and best illustrates the power of vital godliness. In these respects, it seems to us, our Church in that State has a great work before it. So we find one little band borrowing the use of a blacksmith's shop to inaugurate public worship, then and there laying the foundations of an important and influential church. Elsewhere we see some Scotch-Irish elder assembling his neighbors in his house 'for prayer- meetings, and laying the founda- tions of another church. And again, we find the un- converted son of pious parents appalled by the sur- rounding destitutions, feeling that the responsibility for the continuance of this spiritual ignorance rests on his own conscience, essaying to meet it by establishing Sabbath-schools and Bible-classes ; and carrying them on, to the best of his ability, until such time as it may please God to relieve him from the duty, which God so mysteriously laid upon him. In so far as our people courageously accept these allotments of Providence, they represent a form of Christianity full of vital force PRESBYTERIANISM IN NEW ORLEANS. 179 and growth, and set forth, by pure principles and a con- sistent, earnest activity, that blessed Gospel which in all possible emergencies is the one thing needful for man. No one can tell how much, and in how many instances, the Gospel has been, and still is, proclaimed in our sister State through such unpretending but noble instruments. The coming years will rejoice in the harvest, but the names of those who planted for it, it must be left for eternity to disclose. It becomes us, also, to refer with gratitude to the re- sults of our work, as a Church, among the Indian tribes of the Southwest. It ig a much greater work than is generally known. There is far more piety and Chris- tian character, and a far greater knowledge and appre- ciation of Christian truth, among the tribes brought into contact with the institutions of Christianity than is believed by the uninformed. In the bounds of the Creek nation, the Baptists report twenty-four ordained Indian preachers, some of whom are well known Creek and Seminole chiefs. The Methodist Church South can claim a similar record. From the times of Joseph Bullen, the Indian missionary and founder of the First Presbyterian Church in the Southwest, until to-day, our church has evinced a deep and constant interest in the welfare of those tribes. Perhaps the most important mission work among them is conducted by the South- ern Presbyterian Church. And what is the result of these various labors ? It is this. They have printing- presses, newspapers, and books; they have preachers of their own race — men of culture, piety, and moral power; and, in proportion to their population, the people of the Indian nation have more schools, more churclies, attend more largely religious Avorship, and contribute more money for religious purposes than the people of any Territory in the United States. 180 SEMI-CENTEKNIAL OF It is a strange mistake to suppose that the nature of the Indian cannot be brought under the power of the principles of the Gospel. At a Bible Anniversary in one of our AVestern cities not .long since, one of those Indian chiefs stepped forward, and with intense feeling, said, "When I come from among my people and visit the cities, I hear white men debating, whether it is of any use to send the Gospel to the heathen? Some seem to think that it is of no use ; that the Gospel cannot con- vert the heathen. It is of use to send the Gospel to the heathen. I and my people were heathen ; we be- lieved in all its silly and degrading superstitions ; we worshiped we knew not what ; we knew of no future for the soul ; we were without God .and without hope. But now the true light shines among us. We know and love God, and we live in hope of a happy home beyond the grave. This is what the Gospel has done for us. Let no man doubt that the Gospel has power to convert the heathen ! I was a heathen, and it converted me." Who shall gainsay such testimony to the work which it has pleased God to accomplish, by those who have preceded us in this field ? Our Church in the Southwest may not boast of having achieved all that it aimed to achieve. Perhaps a sense of comparative failure and shortcoming has attended its most successful enterprises. Nevertheless, there is much to gratify a Christian heart in the contrast be- tween its present efficiency and its humble origin. There is no great interval between the extensive relig- ious liberty and influence which Ave enjoy to-day, and that Spanish prison at Natchez — and the connection is not hard to trace. It is onlj another illustration of God's fidelity in rewarding the devotedness of his ser- vants. John Bolls' prayer-meeting led him to a Spanish prison seventy- five years ago; and slavery in the mines PRESBYTERIANISM IN NEW ORLEANS. 181 of Mexico seemed to be the inevitable result of them. But where duty to God is concerned, the apparent result is often vastly different from the actual result. Could he have looked through the bars of his prison on tlie Held of religious activity, of which that prison was de- stined to be the center — could his eye have pierced the veil of three-quarters of a century, he would have seen this wide territory covered with a goodly family of five Synods, twenty Presbyteries, and nearly six hundred churches ; together with all the multiform kinds of moral, benevolent, and religious enterprises which they represent or sustain. The history of the world does not often produce, in such a limited period, and from such a desj^ised begin- ning, a more glorious result. Yet this was not merely the work of one man, nor is it the mere development of any one line or form of effort. Many a worker wrought in that field — each in his own sphere, at his own work, in his own way — known or un- known, scattered or united, organized or unorganized — but each and all for the Lord. And by the myste- rious control of an Almighty hand, all things, whether good or evil, or the work of friend or foe, were ruled and overruled, and made to combine and co-operate to accomplish his gracious purpose. The future may have great things in store for us, but- it can teach us no better than the past has taught us, that great lesson, that fidelity to God is not lost — neither is it to be held as of little moment, though it be obscure and seemingly uninfluential. However trivial it may seem, each particular and individual movement must live till it obeys the laAvs of a divine attraction, and combines with a greater, which shall lead it on till it co-operate even with the greatest. We may be as insignificant as the raindrop on the 182 PEESBYTERIANISM IN NEW ORLEANS. mountain side ; yet that drop must not perish till it blends with others, and compels the rivulet to spring into being. And the rivulets can find no rest, until they make to bound forth into life the growing river, wealth- bearing and life-producing. Nor can the rivers return or cease, till they have mingled their mighty burdens on the bosom of the deep. And so the act of fidelity and the prayer of faith ; the godly life and the preached word; prayer-meetings aud Sunday-schools will join and conjoin, and operate and co-operate, increase and multiply, overleap all restraints, and in their ebb and flow bear down and continue to bear down all opposing forces. -Out of tlie feeble will come the strong, and from the bosom of patience shall leap forth might ; till the grace of God shall sweep over society like the tides of the ocean in their strength ; till the knowledge of God shall fill and cover the earth ; till the time shall come, when rejoicing angels shall declare," It isfinished,'' "The kingdoms of this world have become the empire of our God." Dr. T. R. Markham, and Rev. R. Q. Mallard delivered addresses admirably illustrating the aggressive move- ment of the Church, through the two arms of her ser- vice, the pastorship, and the pulpit; the one urging home the Gospel to the heart of the individual, in per- sonal intercourse; the other, in the stated systematic presentation of truth to the masses. The audience then rose and sung "All hail tlie power of Jesus' name." The benediction was then pronounced by Rev. W. Flinn. TEXAS. If you look at the map, you will see that the Gulf of Mexico is somewhat in the shape of a horse-shoe. Its opening is defended and adorned by the island of Cuba. Commencing at Cape Florida, we find that its capes and harbors are very numerous, and are sufficient for the vast commerce of this great inland sea, and the rich territories that border it. They are Tampa, Apalachee, Mobile, New Orleans, Atchafalaya, Calcasieu, Sabine, Galveston, Brazos River, Matagorda, Corpus Christi, Brazos Santiago, Tehuantepec, Campeachy, and Sisal. At the toe of this great slioe lies the State of Texas, reaching for a distance of four hundred miles along the coast, and embracing in its entire boundaries two hun- dred and thirty-seven thousand square miles, or about one hundred and fifty millions of acres. It is four times as large as Virginia. The country along the coast is a level prairie ; but as you pass to the interior, the surface gradually rises and becomes more uneven; and still further inland, it becomes hilly and mountainous. After crossing an extensive belt of timber, and reaching more than a hundred miles from the coast, you find the nigh rolling prairies, composed of the richest soil in the world, covered with musquit-grass, and having along the streams and valleys sufficient timber for all needful purposes. Texas is what is called" an alluvial country, and bears strong evidence of having been once under water. Very 184 TEXAS. little rock is found, except in the northern part. It possesses every variety of climate and surface, and there is nothing which can contribute to the comfort and wants of man which will not grow here. Oranges and sugar-cane flourish in the south ; cotton in the middle regions ; wheat in the north ; and potatoes, corn and vegetables flourish everywhere; while countless numbers of cattle, horses, sheep, and hogs can be reared in any part of the State. In fact, there is no country on the continent better suited to become the abode of millions of contented and happy people. It is a world in itself, where nature teems with all kind of riches, and holds out all kind of attractions to people of other States to come and find homes for themselves and their children. Our only wonder is, that so boundless a country has remained so long without being filled up with civilized peoj^le. IJ^DIANS IN" TEXAS. The Indians, from their mode of living, and the con- tinual wars among their different tribes, were but thinly scattered over the immense country lying between the Eio Grande and Eed River. The Lipans and the Caran- kaws lived along the lower Eio Grande and the Colorado and Brazos. They subsisted mainly upon fish. The next tribe, going east, was the Cenis, inhabiting Buffalo Bayou, the San Jacinto Valley, and the Trinity Eiver. On the banks of the Trinity their villages were large and numerous. Their habitations were like bee-hives, and some of them were forty feet high. As they de- voted much time to raising corn, they were compara- tively wealthy. They traded with the Spaniards of New Mexico, from whom they procured horses, money, spurs, and clothing. The next tribe east were the Nassoriis, living between tlie Cenis and the Sabine Eiver. These TEXAS. 185 four tribes, two ceuturics.ago, formed the original iiiluib- itants of Texas. The hmding of the colony of La Salle Avas to them a new and wonderful event. The sight of ships and the sound of fire-arms were to them subjects of awe and astonishment. Living in the simplicity of nature, they were free from most of the diseases and vices of European nations. They were worshipers of tlie sun, and full of the superstitions common to other North American Indians. They had their rain-makers, their game-finders, and their witches. Living in a mild climate, and among prairies covered with buff;ilo and game of all kinds, and near streams and bays abounding in fish, they obtained their living with but little effort. They were contented and as free as people ever can be- come who know nothing of the usages of civilized life. Early and vigorous efforts were made by Catholic missionaries to convert them to Christianity. Estab- lishments were formed called presidios or missions. Buildings were erected round a square, and consisted of a church, storehouses, dwellings for priests, officers, and soldiers. Huts were erected at a short distance for the converted Indians. The ruins of many of these old presidios remain to this day. But the Indians are now all gone, and none are found except on the northern and western frontiers of the State. One race has dis- appeared, and a new one is fast filling its place. The weak have yielded to the strong — the savage to the civilized ; and before many years roll round, the only record of once powerful Indian tribes will be the beau- tiful names which still cling to some of our rivers and our mountains. THE ERENCH li^ TEXAS. The first Europeans who visited Texas were led here by La Salle, who landed near the entrance of Mata- 186 TEXAS. gorda Bay, on February 18, 1685. La Salle was a brave and gallant knight under Louis XIV., King of France. Born of a good family, and intended for the priesthood in the Catholic Church, he had received a finished edu- cation. He was a man of great talents, of an enter- prising spirit, and possessed firmness of mind which danger and adversity seemed only to strengthen. He kept his own secrets, relied upon his own genius, and bore without a murmur whatever ills befell him. A squadron of four vessels was provided and fur- nished by the king, and the whole number of persons embarked in the enterprise, was three hundred. The squadron first touched land near Sabine Bay, but mak- ing no discoveries, and being unable to get any in- formation from the Indians, they proceeded westward, and sailing through Pass Cavallo, entered the Bay of St. Bernard, since known by its present name. One of the vessels was wrecked in attempting to land. The others landed in safety, and a camp was formed on the west side near the entrance of the Bay. The little colony was greatly refreshed by an abundance of game and fish. They were charmed with the country. The herds of buffalo and deer that were seen grazing on the prairies, the innumerable wild flowers that covered the earth, and the birds that warbled in the trees, led them to believe that they had found an earthly para- dise. But these bright prospects were soon clouded. Troubles arose with the Indians. Their chief supply of provisions was lost. Sickness began to thin their numbers. Disagreements arose between La Salle and the leading men of the colony. A captain of one of the vessels set sail for France, carrying away most of the ammunition. Finally, the settlement was aban- doned, and a new location was selected on the Lavaca TEXAS. 187 River, and a fort was there erected, and named St. Louis, in honor of the king. La Salle, the leading spirit of this infant colony, being of an ad venturous disposition, and being intensely desirous of ascertaining the exact mouth of the great Mississippi River, started on the business of exploring the vast regions between Texas and Illinois; aiid after enduring incredible hardships, and meeting with many wild and romantic adventures, was finally murdered by one of his own men. The Indians, on hearing of La Salle's death, attacked Fort St. Louis, and killed or scattered all the colonists. This was the end of the first European colony in Texas. THE FIRST WHITE MAN" LOST IN TEXAS. In 1720, a colony of Europeans entered the Gulf of Mexico, with the view of settling in Louisiana. Among them was M. de Belisle, a gentleman of distinction. The wind and current carried the vessel on which he was sailing into Matagorda Bay. A boat was sent ashore for water, and Belisle, with four others, went in it. As the boat had to make several trips to and from the ship during the day, these men concluded to remain on shore and go out hunting. But, overstaying their time, the boat made the last trip, and the captain, be- coming impatient, weighed anchor and sailed from the Bay. Being thus left alone in an unknoAvn country, the hunters traveled westward along the coast for several days, living upon herbs and insects. Belisle had brought a young dog with him from the vessel. This he gave up to one of the men to be killed for food. The man was so weak with hunger that he was un- able to kill him, and the dog escaped and disappeared. The four companions of Belisle died of starvation and despair before his eyes; and for some days after, he 188 TEXAS. continued to live on worms and insects, until at last the dog returned with an opossum which he had killed. Shortly after this, the dog was wounded by a wild beast, and he was compelled to kill him. Being thus left aloue, he turned from the west, and bent his course to the interior, in sea.di of men. He found footsteps, and followed them to a river, on the opposite side of which he saw some Indians engaged in drying meat. They soon discovered him, caught him, stripped him, and divided his clothes among them. They then took him to their village, and gaye him to an old squaw, w^ho treated him so kindly, that he soon re- covered his strength. He learned their language, be- came a warrior, and rose to distinction among them. After some time, a party of strange Indians visited the tribe where he was a captive, and, seeing him, re- marked that they had also in their nation some men of the same color. This remark excited Bel isle's feel- ings, and he determined to profit by it. He then made some ink of soot, and wrote on a piece of paper which he had secretly saved, an account of his condition. One of the strange Indians secretly agreed to carry it to the white people at Katchitoches. He performed his prom- ise, delivered the paper to Captain St. Denis, com- mandant of that post, who wept on learning the fate of his white brother. As St. Denis was a great friend of the Indians, and a favorite with them, ten of their number volunteered to go after Belisle, and return in two moons. They were furnished with horses, and a horse, arms, and clothing for the prisoner. They reached the village, and fired off their guns, which overawed the Indians. Then delivering a letter from St. Denis to Belisle, they helped him to mount his horse' and the whole party galloped away, and reached Natchitoches in safety. From there Belisle found his TEXAS. 189 way to the infant city of New Orleans, and became Major General of the Marine of Louisiana. THE SPANIARDS IN TEXAS. Early in 1G8G, the Spaniards, who at this time held possession of Mexico, hearing of the effort of the French, under La Salle, to make settlements in Texas, deter- mined on driving them out of the country. An expe- dition of one hundred men left the Spanish settlement of Monclava in the spring of 1G89. But on arriving at Fort St. Louis, on the Lavaca, they found it abandoned. Going into the country, they found two of the French colonists among the Cenis Lidians, whom they took prisoners, and sent to Mexico, and there condemned to work in the mines. Keturning to Fort St. Louis, they there established the Mission of San Francisco; and collecting some priests and friars, commenced their efforts to convert the Lidians. The king of Spain now determined to recover the possession of all Texas and Coahuila. A governor of the country was accordingly appointed ; soldiers and priests were sent out to different points, to establish military posts and missions. They took with them cattle, and seeds for planting. They formed settlements on tlie Red River, the Neches, and the Guadalupe. But in a short time, all these infant colonies, and also that of Fort St. Louis, began to de- cline. The Indians were hostile, the crops failed, and the cattle died. So that in 1693, they were all aban- doned, and Texas was once more without any European settlers. Not much was done by the Spaniards after this to settle Texas, until the year 1715. From tliis year may be dated its permanent occupation by Spain. They now commenced in good earnest to found colonies, to estab- lish missions, and by arms, agriculture and arts, to ex- 190 TEXAS. tend and establish their influence and laws over the whole country. But notwithstanding all their efforts and sacrifices, the Government was not prosperous; and in the year 1745, the entire Spanish population in Texas did not exceed fifteen hundred, with perhaps an equal number of converted Indians. In 1758, a sad scene occurred at San Saba. The Indians, in large numbers, assaulted the mission, and murdered priests, soldiers, and Indian converts, leaving not one alive to tell the tale. This fearful butchery caused the Spanish missions in Texas everywhere to decline. They never recovered from the blow. During the American Revolution, the Spanish pos- sessions of Mexico and Texas remained in quiet. Texas was safe from danger. Her harbors were almost un- known ; her property offered no temptation to pillage, and her scattered population could aflbrd no recruits. The Spanish settlement at Xatchez, however, had opened up a trade with Texas through Nacogdoches. This road had become familiar to many besides the Spaniards. Traders, on their return, would make known to the Americans in and around Natchez, the advantages of trade in Texas, the surpassing beauty and richness of the country, the abundance of the game, and a thousand other attractions to adventurers. Thus the tide of travel and of trade began to set in the direction of this new country about the beginning of the present century. The town of Nacogdoches soon became a place' of much importance. Many persons of wealth and education emigrated from Louisiana to that place. The old mis- sionary station became a town. An arsenal, barrat3ks, and other substantial buildings soon made their appear- ance — some of which are still standing. Although the Spaniards held the country for upwards of one hundred and fifty years, yet little now exists in TEXAS. 191 Texas to remind us of their rule here, excepting the names which they gave to the principal towns and rivers. Most of these names are still retained. AMERICANS IN TEXAS. A trader, called Philip Nolan, engaged in traffic be- tween Natchez (Mississippi) and San Antonio, about the year 1785. In October, 1800, he started on one of his expeditions into Texiis, with a company of about twenty men. Among them was Ellis P. Bean, a young man of seventeen years of age, whose romantic charac- ter and strange adventures entitle him to a more ex- tended notice. Nolan and his company, in order to avoid attracting public attention, took a new route, after crossing the Mississippi at Natchez. Occasionally they halted to kill game and refresh themselves. Before reaching Red River, three of them strayed off, got lost, but afterwards found their way back to Natchez. Nolan and his remaining men passed around the head of Lake Bistineau, and crossing Red River, came to a Caddo village, where they obtained some fine horses. In ten days they crossed the Trinity, and immediately entered upon an immense rolling prairie, through which they advanced, till they came to a spring, which they named the Painted SpriJig. At the head of this spring stood a rock, painted by the Indians, to commemorate a treaty which had once been made there. In the vast prairie around them they could find no fuel with which to cook their food. The buffalo, once so numerous here, had all disappeared, and they were compelled to live for nine days on the flesh of mustang horses. By this time they reached the Brazos, where they found plenty of deer, elk, and "wild horses by thousands." Here they built an enclosure, and caught and penned three hundred head of mustangs. At this 192 TEXAS. place, they were visited by two hundred Camanche In- dians, with whom they went on a visit to the great chief Necoroco, on the south bank of Eed Eiver, where they remained a month, making many friends, and gaining much information. They returned at length to their old camp, accompanied by an escort of the natives, who managed to steal eleven of their best American horses. The company at this time consisted of Captain Nolan, five Spaniards, eleven Americans, and one negro. As they could do nothing without their horses, some six of the company volunteered to go after them. They went on foot, and after a march of nine days found four of the horses, under the care of a few Indians. The other horses, the Indians said, had been taken on a buffalo- hunt by the balance of their party, and would return in the evening. They further stated that the one who stole the horses was a one-eyed Indian chief. In the evening, the Indians came in, bringing the horses and abundance of meat. The whites tied the one-eyed chief, and guarded him till morning; they then took such provisions as they wanted for their journey, let the In- dians go, and returned to their camp in four days. While in camp, resting themselves, a troop of one hundred and fifty Spaniards came suddenly upon them. The trampling of the horses aroused the Americans, who, seeing their danger, prepared for defense. They had built a square in closure of logs, in which they slept at night. Into this they fled. The Spaniards at day- break commenced their fire, wiiich was returned from the log pen. In ten minutes, Captain Nolan was killed by a ball in the head. Bean then took the command, and continued the fight. In a short time after, two more of the little company fell. The Spaniards had brought with them a swivel on the back of a mule, with which they fired grape. At this time, Bean proposed to TEXAS. 193 his men to charge on this piece of artillery, but the men jointly opposed it. It was next proposed to retreat, which was agreed to. Eacli one filled his powder-horn, and the remaining ammunition was placed in charge of the negro. They left the inclosure, and gained a small creek. "While here engaged in fighting, the negro with the ammunition, and one wounded man, stopped and surrendered. Bean and his party, though under a con- stant fire from the enemy on both sides, kept up the fight, until at last they took refuge in a ravine, and, for a short time, the firing ceased. At length the enemy began to close in upon the ravine, but were soon re- pulsed. About two o'clock in the afternoon, the Span- iards hoisted a white flag, and an American, who was with the Spaniards, Avas appointed to hold a parley with Bean. They said, all they desired was, that the Ameri- cans would return to their homes, and cease to come any more into Texas. The Americans agreed to this. A treaty was made, in which it was agreed that both parties should return together to Nacogdoches — the Americans not to surrender, but to retain their arms. They soon reached the Trinity River, which was over- flowino^ its banks. Bean soon contrived to make a small canoe out of a dry cotton- wood tree, and managed to carry over all the Spaniards, leaving their arms and com- mander on the other side. He now proposed to his men to throw the arms into the river, start the commander over, and again march for the prairies. In this, how- ever, he was not seconded. In a few days they all reached Nacogdoches, where they remained a month, expecting, according to promise, to be sent home. But in violation of the treaty, they were all put in 'irons and sent to San Antonio. Here they were kept in prison three months. They were then sent to San Louis Potosi, where they remained in prison 9 194 TEXAS. for sixteen months. The prisoners being without clothes, contrived means to procure them. Bean and Charles King gave themselves out as shoemakers, and were permitted to work at their prison doors, by which means they earned some money. Then they were started off to Chihuahua. Arriving at Saltillo, they were treated with more kindness. Their irons were taken off, and they were permitted to walk about the towai. Here we will leave them for the present, simply remarking, that this battle of twelve Americans with one hundred and fifty mounted Spaniards, was probably the first which ever took place between these two nations, and from it we may judge of the character of each. FIRST AMERICAN COLONY IIT TEXAS. The first grant from the Mexican Government to found an American colony in Texas, was dated January 17, 1821. This grant was given to Moses Austin, a native of Connecticut, and the father of the distin- guished Colonel Stephen F. Austin. The father dying suddenly, the son undertook the great and benevolent work of carrying out his father's plans. He accordingly explored the country watered by the Guadalupe, Colo- rado, and Brazos Eivers, and laid out the town of San Felipe de Austin, on the Brazos. The news of Austin's colony had spread over the western country, and there were many adventurers who were anxious to join him ; so that the number of colonists came on faster than provision could be made for their support. The first settlers were often reduced to the necessity of living en- tirely on wild game, and clothing themselves with skins. They also suffered greatly for several years from the Carankaw Indians. In the year 1813, one of the colon- ists gives us the following account of their sufferings : " Those of us who have no families live with families TEXAS. 195 of the settlement. A part of us are obliged to go out in the morning to hunt food, leaving a part of the men behind to protect the women and children from the In- dians. Game is now so scarce that we often hunt a whole day for a deer or turkey, and return at night empty-handed. It would make your heart sick to see the poor little half-naked children, who have eaten nothing during the day, watch for the return of the hunters at night. As soon as they catch the first glimpse of them, they eagerly run out to meet them, and learn if tliey have found any game. If the hunters re- turn with a deer or turkey, the children are wild with delight. But if they return without food, the little creatures suddenly stop in their course, and the big tears start and roll down their pale cheeks." These were hard times for the young colony. But they were engaged in a great and good work, and met and overcame all difficulties with manly firmness. The common dress of the people was buckskin; and occa- sionally a strolling peddler would penetrate into the wilderness with a piece of domestic or calico, which was deemed of as much elegance as silk or satin is among'us. Soon after the establishment of Austin's colony, many other colonies were founded in different parts of the country. The settlement at Victoria was begun in 1825. The town of Gonzales was laid ofi" about the same time. In 1828, Colonel Austin obtained another con- tract to colonize three hundred families on lands near the Gulf Texas had now become the great point of at- traction to thousands of adventurers from all parts of the United States. Men of desperate fortunes and of roving habits, speculators in land, broken-down politi- cians^ refugees from justice, as well as multitudes of a better class, who were desirous of finding new homes for their growing families, and fresh lands for their increas- 196 TEXAS. ing slaves, swelled the tide of Texas immigration. This tide, rolling down from the Xorthern and Western states, at last excited the jealousy of the Mexican gov- ernment, and finally brought on a Avar with Mexico, which ended in the independence of Texas. GALVESTOi^ ISLAND. From the discovery of this island, in 1686, by the French under La Salle, until 1816, it remained un- settled. A few^ roving Indians occasionally resorted to the western end of the island for the purpose of fishing, but there were no human habitations on it. As late as 1816, it was covered with a long, green grass, on which fed herds of deer. It also abounded in serpents, and was hence called by the pirates of the Gulf, Sncike Island. In 1816, Don Louis Aury, commodore of the fleet of the Republics of Mexico, Venezuela, La Plata, and New Granada, consisting of fifteen small vessels, was chosen governor of the province of Texas and Gal- veston Island. He immediately set out upon a cruise against Spanish commerce, and soon swept from the Gulf the vessels of the mother country. The rich prizes brought into Galveston soon enabled Aury and his little garrison to live handsomely. African slaves were also smuggled into the place, and sold at about one hundred and fifty dollars apiece, and sent across the country into Louisiana. In 1817, it fell into the possession of the celebrated Lafitte, who had for many years been the terror of the Gulf — a man of great accomplishments and of many crimes — who, when the war between England and the United States broke out in 1812, had his head- quarters at Barataria, in Louisiana, and after refusing to join the British, offered his services to the American Government, was pardoned by the Legislature of Louisi- TEXAS. 197 ana, and fought bravely at the battle of New Orleans under General Jackson. After the battle of New Orleans, Lafitte returned to his former occupation, and he and his followers on Gal- veston Island numbered nearly a thousand men. They were of all nations and languages, and though pretend- ing to be engaged, under tlieir distinguished leader, as privateers, were actually nothing but pirates. Lafitte was a man of handsome person, winning manners, gen- erous disposition, and had a wonderful influence over his men. He built his town on the ruins of Aury's village, erected a dwelling called the red house, and con- structed a fort, a small arsenal and dock-yard. From New Orleans he was supplied with building materials, provisions, and many of the luxuries of life. A "Yankee " boarding-house sprung up, and Galveston soon became a place of many attractions to the wild free-booters of the Gulf. But, in 1820, Lafitte and his men committed some acts which brought on him the displeasure of the United Stales Government, who sent an armed vessel and broke up his establishment. This prince of pirates entertained the captain of the American vessel with great hospitality at the red house. He then assem.bled his followers, made them an address, supplied them Avith money, advised them to disperse, and bidding the American officer farewell, sailed out of the bay, and left Galveston forever. Galveston, in 1822, was again desolate, and for some years it was only visited occasionally by sailors in search of Lafitte's hidden treasures. 1\\ 1836, the eastern end of the Island was occupied by some Texas troops under Colonel Morgan, who had charge of some Mexican prisoners. Two years after this, when Texas had estab- lished its independence, and crowds of strangers com- menced coming into the country, the town began to 198 TEXAS. rise ill importance. Comnierce had sought out the harbor as the best in the young Republic, and respon- sible merchants began to make it their permanent abode. In 1838, vessels were arriying and departing daily, and the harbor presented the appearance of an Atlantic port. In the first quarter of the year 1840, ninety-two vessels arrived at the port of Galveston. THE FALL OF THE ALAMO. In 1836, Santa Anna, who was at that time President of Mexico, determined to invade Texas, and either drive the Americans out of the country, or crush out the spirit of independence which had broken out among them. Accordingly he set out for the Eio Grande on the 1st of February of that year, at the head of seven thousand troops, and on the 27th of the same month, he marched into the city of San Antonio. The few Texas soldiers who were stationed in that city retired across the river in good order, and took refuge in the Alamo. The Alamo, though strong, Avas not properly a fort, but a presidio or mission. It had been standing for nearly one hundred and fifty years, and had been the scene of many strange and interesting events. Here Colonel Travis, with his small force of not more than one hundred and fifty men, determined to make a stand, and conquer or die. He had only eight cannon, and was greatly deficient in provisions and ammunition. When the enemy first appeared before the place, he had only ninety bushels of corn and thirty head of cattle. But the watch-word of the little band of heroes was, " Victory or death ! " Santa Anna immediately de- manded a surrender, which was answered by a shot from the fort. The enemy then hoisted the red flag, and commenced the attack. They erected a number of bat- teries, and for several days kept up a constant skirmish- TEX.VS. 199 ing. Travis and his little band frequently sallied out and met their assailants, whom they drove back with considerable loss. On the 1st of March, thirty-two gal- lant men, from Gonzales, forced their way into the Ala- mo, thus swelling the force of Travis to one hundred and eighty-eight. For several succeeding days the con- test was kept up with spirit on both sides, the Texans firing but seldom, in order to save their ammunition ; and the Mexicans advancing their batteries nearer and nearer to the walls. Travis succeeded in sending out, through the enemy's lines, a last appeal to his country for help in this his terrible extremity, setting forth his position, and stating that if not soon reinforced, he and his men had solemnly determined to perish in the struggle. By the same courier he wrote to a friend in Washington County the following affecting message: " Take care of my little boy. If the country is saved, I may make him a fortune. But if all is lost, and I shall perish, I Avill leave him nothing but the proud rec- ollection that he is the son of a man wlio died for his country." Thus for one long week did this little band of heroes defend themselves against the overwhelming force of the enemy, until they were completely worn down by con- stant watching and fighting. On Sunday morning, the Cth of March, Santa Anna determined to take tlie place by storm, and the Alamo was completely surrounded by the whole Mexican army. The infantry was placed in a circle nearest the fort, and the cavalry around them, so that not a single straggler might escape. At a given signal, tlie whole host advanced rapidly, under a tre- mendous fi"re from the Texans. Just at daylight, ladders were placed against the walls, and the soldiers began to climb up. But they were hurled down by the brave defenders within. Again the charge was sounded, and a 200 TEXAS. second effort made to reach tlie top of the wall ; but again the assailants were beaten back. For a few min- utes there was a pause. A third attempt was made with more success. Some reached the top of the wall, wavered and fell; but their places were supplied by hundreds pressing up behind them on every ladder. At last, cut down, killed and wounded, the Texan defenders began to give way. Instantly the fort was filled with hundreds of infuriated murderers. The survivors within the walls still continued the battle. They clubbed their guns, and with shouts and yells of defiance, fought from wall to wall, from room to room. Some few cried for quarter, but no quarter was given. Travis and Crockett fell with piles of dead Mexicans around them. Major Evans, in attempting to set fire to the magazine, was shot down. Colonel Bowie, who was sick in his bed, was murdered and his body mangled. Major Dickinson, in attempting to leap from the wall with his child tied on his back, was instantly killed. Thus, one by one those noble heroes sold their lives; and by sunrise on that Sabbath morn, every one had perished, and all was still. But around them lay the dead bodies of over five hundred Mexicans, with an equal number of w^ounded. The only survivors of this terrible conflict were Mrs. Dickinson, her child, a negro servant of Colonel Travis, and two Mexican women. The bodies of the Texans were stripped, mutilated, and then thrown into heaps and burnt. As not one of all the defenders of the Alamo escaped, we shall never know the full particulars of that desper- ate struggle. About a year after, their bones and ashes were col- lected, placed in a coffin, and buried with due solemnity. A small monument was made from the stones of the fortress in 1841, was purchased by the State, and now TEXAS, 201 stands in the Capitol at Austin. But the most lasting monument of the heroes of the Alamo is found in the hearts of their countrymen, who will cherish their memory, and tell each succeeding generation the tale of their sufferings, their endurance, and their heroic end. They fell unnoticed, but undying — The very gales their names seem sighing". CAPTURE AND SLAUGHTER OF FANKIN'S MEJq- AT GOLIAD. The news of the fall of the Alamo and the entire destruction of its brave defenders soon spread through- out Texas. It now became necessary that the army of the young republic should retreat before the advance of the larger force under Santa Anna, and make a stand against him in the eastern part of the country. Ac- cordingly, General Houston, who was at the time at Gonzales, issued orders that the scattered troops should fall back and unite at some more favorable place. In this retreat the two armies had frequent skirmishes, in some of which the Texan s gained signal advantages. Colonel Fannin, who was stationed at Goliad with three hundred men, began his retreat. Thinking that the enemy would not pursue him, he was not suflScient- ly on his guard, and was overtaken at the Coleta Creek, about thirty miles east of Goliad, on the 20th of March. He and his men were in an open prairie, and the infant- ry and cavalry of the enemy were concealed in the tim- ber near the creek. The enemy's cavalry, coming up within a quarter of a mile, dismounted, and began to advance and fire. Fannin ordered his men to reserve their fire and to lie down in the grass. The Mexicans having now come within one hundred yards, the Texans opened a fire of rifles, muskets, and artillery. Fannin here received a flesh wound in the les^. 202 TEXAS. While thus engaged with the Mexican cavah\y on their right flank, they suddenly discovered the enemy's in- fantry, one thousand strong, advancing on their left and rear, and concealing themselves in the long grass. Whenever they would rise to shoot, and show their heads, the Texas rifles generally took them down. The battle soon became general. The Texan s having no w^ater to sponge their cannon, the pieces soon became so hot that they could not use them, and they were forced to rely wholly on their small arms. With these they kept up the fight from one o'clock until sundown. At dusk, a party of Camanche Indians, who had joined the Mexicans, were placed in the high grass, about thirty yards from the Texan s, from which they poured a de- structive fire. But, as soon as it became suflSciently dark for the Texans to see the flash of their guns, they seldom flashed twice from the same place. A little after dark, the enemy drew off their troops. The Texans lost, during the day, seven killed and sixty wounded. The enemy's loss must have been five times as great. The Mexicans took position, during the night, in the skirt of the woods. Early in the morning they renewed the attack, and, arranging their whole force in the most imposing manner, surrounded the little band of Texans with overwhelming numbers. Fannin and his officers now held a consultation, and it was the opinion of the majority that they should surrender. A white flag was raised, and terms were agreed on. It was stipulated that the Texans should be received as prisoners of war, and in eight days should be sent to the coast and shipped to the United States. This agreement was reduced to writing in both the English and Spanish languages, read over two or three times, and the writing exchanged "in the most formal and solemn manner." TEXAS. 203 The Texaus immediately stacked their arms and such of them as were able to walk, were marched back to Goliad on the same day. At Goliad they were crowded into the old church, with no other food than a little beef, without bread or salt. Some other prisoners were also brought in who had been captured at other points. Here they were kept until the 27th of the month, ex- pecting every day to leave for the United States. The prisoners were spending the evening of the 27th in the most pleasant manner. Colonel Fannin was entertain- ing his friends with the prospect of a speedy return to the United States; and some of the young men, who could perform well on the flute, were singing "Home, Sweet Home." Alas ! how little they knew of the sad fate that was awaiting them. At seven o'clock at night, a courier arrived with an order from Santa Anna, that the prisoners should all be shot ! Accordingly, on the next morning at the dawn of day, the Texans were awakened by a Mexican officer, who said he wished them to form a line that they might be counted. The men were marched out in several divisions, under differ- ent pretexts. Some were told that they were to be taken to Copano, to be sent immediately home ; others, that they were going out to kill beeves; and others again, that they were being removed from the church to make room for Santa Anna and his suite. Dr. Shackleford, who had been reserved jrs a surgeon for the wounded Mexicans, and was invited to the tent of a Mexican officer, a little distance from the fort, says: " In about half an hour we heard the report of a volley of small arms on the east of the fort. I immediately inquired the cause of the firing. The officer replied that he did not know, but supposed it was the guard firing off their guns. In about fifteen or twenty min- utes after, another such volley was heard directly south 204: TEXAS. of US. At the same time I could distinguish the heads of some of the men through the branches of some peach- trees, and could hear their screams. It was then, for the first time, that the awful conviction seized upon our minds, that treachery and murder had begun their work. I then asked the officer if it could be possible they were murdering our men. He replied that it was so, but that he had not given the order, neither had executed it. In about an hour more the wounded were dragged out and butchered. Colonel Fannin was the last to suffer. When informed of his fate, he met it like a soldier. He handed his watch to the man who was to kill him, and requested him to shoot him in the head, and not in the back. He then seated himself in a chair, tied a handkerchief over his eyes, bared his bosom, and re- ceived the fire. " As different divisions were brought to the place of execution, they were ordered to sit down with their backs to the guard. A young man, of the name of Fen- ner, rose on his feet, and exclaimed, 'Boys, they are going to kill us — die with your faces to them, like men ! ' At the same time, two other young men, swing- ing their caps over their heads, shouted at the top of their voices, 'Hurrah for Texas!' " Many attempted to escape ; but most of those who survived the first fire were pursued by the cavalry and cut down. It is- believed that twenty-seven of those who were marched out to be slaughtered made their escape, leaving three hundred and thirty who were butchered in cold blood. The dead were then stripped, and their naked bodies thrown into piles, and though an attempt w^as made to burn them, it did not fully suc- ceed, and many of them were left a prey to dogs and vultures." Peace to the ashes of these noble martyrs of liberty ! TEXAS. 205 They did not full in vain. A cry for vengeance arose to Heaven. It rung through the land, and a terrible ret- ribution overtook the cruel murderer and his army at the battle of San Jacinto. BATTLE OF SAN JACINTO. The battle of San Jacinto was the last and most im- portant one which took place in the war between Texas and Mexico. Though the numbers engaged in it were not very large, yet the victory of the Texans wjis so great, that it brought the war to a close, and soon led to the independence of Texas. It was fought on Buffalo Bayou, and near San Jacinto River, in Harris county, on April 21, 1836. General Santa Anna, the President of Mexico, commanded the Mexicans, and General Hous- ton led the Texans. The Mexicans numbered fif- teen hundred men, and the Texans only about seven hundred. We need not describe the proud advance of the Mexican army, the retreat of the Texans, the burning of Ilarrisburg, the skirmishing on the 20th, and other incidents which took place before the battle. General Houston called a council of war, and it was de- cided that they must now fight, or the Mexicans would drive them out of the country, and compel them to cross over into Louisiana. Many of the soldiers were impa- tient to bring the matter to close quarters, and were de- termined either to meet the enemy at once, or else go home and take care of their families and property, which were in danger of being destroyed by parties from the Mexican army, who were prowling over the country. It was about three o'clock on the afternoon of the 21 st, when General Houston made preparations for the attack. The Mexicans seemed to be almost entirely unprepared for battle. They had just finished their dinner. Some were 206 TEXAS. lounging about the camp. Some were playing monte, and many were taking a quiet nap. Santa Anna was him- self asleep. The Texans formed their plan of attack behind the shelter of some trees, which concealed them from view. Burleson's regiment was placed in the center ; Sherman's on the left wing, and the cavalry, under Lamar, on the extreme right. The artillery, including the " Twin Sisters," was under the charge of Hockley. The whole army was soon in readiness. The " Twin Sisters " now advanced to within two hundred yards of the Mexican breastworks, and opened a de- structive fire with grape and canister. Sherman's regiment rushed forward and began the attack with great fury. The whole line then advanced in double- quick time, shouting, " Eemember the Alamo ! " "Re- member Goliad ! " The Mexicans fired as the Texans approached, but the latter reserved their fire until they were within pistol shot. They then opened fire along their whole line. The effect of this discharge was ter- rible. They made no halt. Onward they rushed, firing and yelling as they went. The Texan cavalry then charged that of the Mexicans, who immediately fled; and in a few minutes Burleson's regiment and Millard's infantry stormed the breastwork, and captured their whole artillery. In fifteen minutes after the charge, the Mexicans gave way at all points, and the pursuit became general. Some fled to the river ; some to the swamp, and most of them to a clump of trees in their rear, where they surrendered. Such was their terror, and so sudden was their flight, that many of their cannon were left loaded, their money and other valuables left untouched. — Those that were asleep, awoke only to be overwhelmed or killed. Those that were cooking left their food untouched; and those that were playing monte, left the game unfinished. The swamp, in the TEXAS. 207 rear of their camp, presented an awful scene. Men and horses, the dead and dying, were piled in heaps, and formed a bridge over which their terrible pursuers con- tinued the chase. The Texans, not having time to load their guns, used them as clubs ; and then, seizing their bowie-knives, slaughtered the poor fugitives like sheep. Many begged for their lives, but no quarter was given them. Their pursuers remembered the many fearful outrages committed by the Mexicans on former occa- sions, and they were determined to put to death all who came within their power. At dark the pursuit of the flying enemy ceased. The prisoners who surrendered before the flight com- menced, were conducted to the Texan camp, a guard placed over them, and were furnished with provisions. The wounded of both armies were cared for. In sum- ming up the results of the battle, it was found that 630 Mexicans were killed, 208 wounded, and 103 made pris- oners. A large quantity of arms, great numbers of mules and horses, camp equipage, and the army chest, containing 112,000, were captured. The Texans had only 8 killed and 25 w^ounded. General Houston re- ceived a wound in the leg. On the morning of the 22d, detachments were sent out to scour the country in the direction towards Harrisburg, and pick up stragglers. A party of five continued their search down Buffalo Bayou. One of them, in the act of shooting a deer, saw a Mexican hid- ing in the tall grass, with a blanket over his head. They called to him to rise and come to them. He ad- vanced, and taking one of them by the hand, kissed it. They asked him who he was. He replied that he was only a private soldier. But, seeing some gold buttons on his shirt, they pointed to them. He then burst into tears, and begged to be conducted to General Houston. 208 TEXAS. This prisoner was none other than the celebrated Santa Anna. On approaching Houston, he announced his name, and declared himself a prisoner of war. General Houston was reclining beneath a tree, and was suffer- ing considerable pain from his wound. He, however, received the prisoner with due consideration. Santa Anna was much agitated and much alarmed. Knowing the hatred entertained towards him by the Texans, be- cause of his many former cruelties, he justly feared their vengeance. He asked for opium, some of which he swallowed, whether for the purpose of quieting his nerves, or destroying his life, we know not. But in a few minutes he recovered his usual composure, and be- gan to display his usual vanity. He at once made application to be released from captivity. " You," said he to Houston, " can afford to be generous, for you have conquered the IN'apoleon of the West ! " General Hous- ton distinctly informed him that he should be turned over to the civil authorities. President Burnett then took charge of him ; and after detaining him for some time a prisoner, he was permitted to go to Washington City, from whence he was sent home by General Jack- son, in a vessel of war, to Vera Cruz. Thus ended the celebrated battle of San Jacinto. The brave band, under their distinguished leader, ob- tained a victory as glorious as any other recorded in the annals of history, and the happy consequences of it will be felt in Texas in all future generations. It shows what brave men can do when fighting for liberty against tyrants. RELIGIOl^ IN- TEXAS. Although many of the early settlers in Texas were immoral in their habits, yet the mass of the people entertained a great regard for religious observances. TEXAS. 209 Most of them Avere educated in the older States, and brought with tliem their reverence for sacred things. The leading men among them were well aware that no people can be prosperous who do not encourage the worsliip of God. This was particularly true after the country became independent of Mexico. It was then that a feeling of gratitude to Heaven, for its blessing on tlieir efforts to become a free people, seemed to pervade all classes, and ministers of the Gospel, of all denom- inations, were cordially welcomed to the country. It is now difficult to decide what Christian sect had the honor of organizing the first church in Texas. The Methodists and Baptists both claim this distinc- tion. As early as 1818, tlie Rev. Henry Stephenson, of the Methodist denomination, preached in the Kcd Eiver settlements, in Western Louisiana. In 1824 he paid a visit to Texas, and preached the first Protestant sermon west of the Brazos, near San Felipe. There were four families present on that occasion. The first camp- meeting was held in Texas in 1833, ten miles from San Augustine. About eighty persons attended. A few individuals professed religion, and a church was organ- ized. On January 17, 1838, the corner-stone of a Meth- odist house of worship was laid in San Augustine. Gen. Thomas J. Rusk delivered an address on the occasion. This w^as the first effort to erect a church building west of the Sabine. In 1837, the Rev. R. Alexander, D.D., emigrated to Texas, preached extensively throughout the State, was the means of doing a great amount of good, and still lives to see the fruits of his labors. About the same time, the Rev. Dr. Ruter, for some time president of Alleghany College in Pennsylvania, a man of practical views, sound learning, and of a truly missionary spirit, 210 TEXAS. settled within tlie bounds of the young republic, and labored and died in Texas. One of the most remarkable preachers, whose name appears in the early history of the State, was Paul Denton. He was early left an orphan in Arkansas, and liyed in a family where he was treated as a servant, and had to cook, wash, scour, and perform other degrading work. Until he was twelve years of age, he was a stranger to hat and shoes. "When he became older, he ran away from his oppressors, and commenced life for himself. At an early age he married, and learned to read and write after becoming the head of a family. He finally became a preacher, and soon showed remark- able powers as a public speaker. He was a man of fine person, agreeable manners, and although without any advantages of education, displayed a high degree of elo- quence. His first efforts as a preacher of the Gospel were in the Eed Lands in Eastern Texas. He after- wards removed to the northern part of the State. He was a man of public sx)irit, and was brave as well as good. He raised a company of volunteers to chastise the Indians, who had become troublesome to the white settlers, and was killed in battle. Texas has honored him in calling a county by his name. Among other ministers of the Gospel who came to Texas at an early time the Eev. Sumner Bacon is worthy of honorable notice. He arrived in the country in 1828. He was a native of Massachusetts, and was first a soldier in the United States army before he became a clergy- man. He was a man of great energy and courage. In connection with his duties as a preacher, he distributed thousands of copies of the Bible from the Sabine to San Antonio. On one occasion he was overtaken by a band of ruffians, who seized him and threatened him with instant death. He begged his captors to first join with TEX.VS. 211 him in prayer. They refused to unite with him, but consented that he might first pray himself before they put their tlireat into execntion. He knelt down and prayed so fervently, that tliey all quietly left him. On another occasion, as he and some others were preparing to hold religious services near San Antonio, certain per- sons sent him word that they intended to come and break up the meeting. Col. James Bowie, being in the neighborhood, and hearing of their purpose, went to the place where the meeting was to be held. He made the sign of the cross on the ground, and informed them that he was captain in those parts, and that the meeting should take place. Knowing the character of Bowie, and fearing his wrath, the opposers of the meeting with- drew, and Bacon and his friends proceeded with their services. Mr. Bacon belonged to the Cumberland Pres- byterian Church. AKIMALS OF TEXAS. A stranger, on first arriving in Texas, is struck with the large size and spreading horns of the cattle. Their large and superior forms are probably owdng to the mild climate and the abundance of grass, which yields a rich supply of food at all seasons of the year. They require no other care than occasional herding to keep them gentle and prevent their straying, and to mark the calves. Hogs thrive admirably in Texas on grass, roots, mast, and fruits. Pork is easily converted into bacon, and preserved without difficulty, owing greatly to the pecu- liar dryness of the air. Herds of wild horses feed on the prairies, and increase in numbers as you proceed west. They are easily sub- dued to the saddle. The catching of a wild horse by a Mexican is a display of skill and valor which is truly 212 TEXAS. wonderful. The ranchero on horseback dashes among the herd as they rush over the prairie, and swinging about his head his lariat — a platted rawhide with a run- ning noose at the end — he throws it with great accuracy over the neck of the wild animal, and in a few minutes he is run down and captured. Mules are also raised in great numbers, though perhaps not so good as those of Kentucky. No country surpasses Texas in abundance of game. Immeuse herds of bnifalo were still found, within a few years past, in the northwestern settlements. Deer flock over every j^rairie. Wild turkeys, the prairie hen, par- tridges, the delicate rice-bird, with numerous others, are found in great numbers. During the winter, the bays are alive with thousands of wild geese and ducks. The flamingo is occasionally seen to display its brilliant plumage. The stately swan frequents the waters of the bays; and around the houses of the plantations the mocking-bird sings its melodious notes. In all the waters, fish, of the choicest kind, abound. Along the coast are oysters of the largest size and finest flavor. The fiercest wild animal in Texas is probably the panther, though it is rarely met with. There are also bears, wolves and a few wild-cats. Among the lesser animals are the opossum, rabbit, and gray squirrel. EAELY CHUKCHES li^ TEXAS. In a previous article it will be seen that the Method- ist Church sent the largest number of clergymen, in early times, to Texas. The first Baptist preacher who came to the country, was the Rev. Joseph Bays, who emigrated from Mis- souri, and preached on Peach Creek, on the west side of TEXAS. 213 the Brazos, in the year 182G. In a short time he re- moved to San Antonio, where he continued to labor until he was ordered away by the Mexican autliorities. In 1829, a number of Baptists, who came from New York, establislied the first Sabbath-school in the country, in the town of San Felipe. It was taught by T. J. Pil- grim, who was the interpreter of the Spanish language in Austin's colony. The same year another Sabbath- school was opened at Matagorda, and in the year follow- ing a similar one was started at '' Old Caney," by members of the same Church. After this time, many members and ministers of the Baptist Church came to the country and organized churches in different parts of the State. In the year 1838, the Rev. Caleb S. Ives, of the Prot- estant Episcopal Church, arrived at Matagorda, where he collected a congregation, established a school, and built a church. He continued to. labor until 1819, Avhen he died. In the fall of 1838, the Rev. R. M. Chapman, of the same Church, came to Houston and organized a parish. In 1810, he was succeeded by Rev. H. B. God- win. In the spring of 1810, the Rt. Rev. Leonidas Polk (late General Polk of the Confederate army) visited and explored the country between the Trinity and the Colo- rado. In 1811, the Rt. Rev. G. W. Freeman, Bisliop of Arkansas, visited the churches of Texas, and continued his visits annually for several years. In 1811, the Rev. B. Eaton was sent out, as a missionary, to Galveston and Houston. On January 1, 1819, a separate diocese was organized for Texas with six clergymen. Since that time the Episcopal Church has continued to grow both in numbers and influence. The Presbyterian Church was not among the pioneer churches in Texas. About the year 1838, the Rev. 214 TEXAS. Hugh Wilson arrived in the new republic. He was probably the first Presbyterian minister who settled in Texas. He organized a Presbyterian Church in San Antonio shortly after his arrival, and in the year follow- ing established one at Independence. He was a labori- ous and useful man, and will always stand high among the first ministers of the Gospel in Texas. The Rev. John McCulloch came to Galveston about the same time, and gathered a congregation and founded a Sab- bath-school under many disadvantages. The state of morals and religion in the Island City at that time was not very favorable to the efforts of the young mission- ary.* With the Rev. W. Y. Allen, at Houston, and Rev. W. C. Blair, P. H. Fullenwider, I.J. Henderson, F. Ruther- ford, and a few others, located at different points in the State, the Presbyterian Church began, about the year 1840, to take a position among the other religious de- nominations in the country, and has been gradually advancing in influence and usefulness until the present time. As most of the clergymen referred to are still living, we can say but little more respecting them than merely to give their names. The most laborious and useful minister of the Pres- byterian Church, who ever lived in Texas, was the J.iev. Dr. Baker, who died within a few years past at Austin. He was a man of great energy and apostolic zeal. All could see that his sole aim aiid purpose was to preach the Gospel and do good to the souls of men. Coming to Texas as a missionary about the year 1810, he visited almost every part of the State, and preached most abun- dantly. In all weathers and in all places, he showed himself the fearless soldier of the cross. With a fine * Mr. McCulloch died within the last three years. TEXAS. 215 person, a silvery voice, and often with melting eyes, he presented the great truths of salvation in sncli a man- ner as to attract large congregations, and win many converts to Christ. At last, after a long and useful ministry, he died a peaceful and happy death in the city of Austin. The college at Huntsville owes its existence to his exertions. LETTEE FEOM ISTASHVILLE. the' TEXAS DEAD OF HOOD's BRIGADE AT THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN". Nashville, Tennessee, Nov. 26, 1867. Being in attendance as a delegate from Texas to the Southern General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church now in session in this city, I accepted an invitation a few days ago to visit the mansion of Colonel John Mc- Gavock at Franklin, twenty miles from Nashville, that I might partake of his princely hospitality and view the quiet resting-place of those Southern soldiers who fell in the disastrous battle of Franklin on the 30th of De- cember, 1864. Three Louisiana friends accompanied me. Here repose, in peaceful graves, the mortal remains of nearly fifteen hundred Confederate soldiers who fell on that eventful day. Around their silent dust an ele- gant iron fence is now near its completion, erected by the citizens of Galveston, Houston, and the surround- ing villages, through the agency of Miss Gay, of Georgia, whose presence in Houston some months ago will be remembered by many, and whose faithful disbursement of the funds contributed, together with the names of every Texian contributor, is attested by documents now in the hands of Colonel McGavock. In full view of the mansion, and on a gently-sloping lawn, we entered the gate, and paced solemnly down the smooth walk that LETTER FROM NASHVILLE. 217 separates the long rows of rounded hillocks where, in regular order, are interred the remains of Mississippians and Tennesseans, soldiers from Georgia, Alabama, and Texas — each in his warrior bed, on which is inscribed the name, company, and former residence of the occu- pant. "With emotions which patriotic and Christian hearts alone can fully feel, and with silent tears on the cheeks of men not used to weep, we advanced from grave to grave. We thought of the bloody strife and of these sad results. Here lies the mangled body of many a father who came far from home to fight the battles of his country ; of many a son, the pride of his mother ; of many a brother, the idol of fond sisters, and many more, bound to distant ones by still tenderer and holier ties. But the largest share of our attention and the deep- est sympathy of our hearts were elicited, as we stopped and lingered long around that portion of the ground where lie the dead from Texas. There are fifty-nine in all, with the name of the Lone Star State inscribed on each tablet. Here they lie, far from home, and many a heart was left desolate by their fall. How grateful should those Texas parents feel, whose sons were spared through many a bloody conflict, and are now at their happy firesides, cheering their households by their pres- ence, and cultivating the arts of peace. Why were these taken and others left ? AVhy did my friend's son fall and mine escape? "Even so. Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight." But we would not omit to say, that on many of the tablets of the Texas dead no name is lettered; but in its stead is simply the word ^^ Unknown ! " — unknown, alas, his name, his age, his calling — unknown the place where his kindred dwell — and unknown to kindred where lies the body of their lost Texan I As the sad 10 218 LETTER FROM NASHVILLE. word " unknown " was repeated with a low and saddened voice which 1 thought none near me could hear, the imposing form of an old friend (not of the clerical pro- fession) advanced to my side, and with quivering lips uttered these cheering words : * ' Unknown ' is all the epitaph can tell — If Jesus knew thee — all is well." I now looked around and inquired where lie the re- mains of General Granberry — that man of classic taste, and commanding form, and trumpet voice — Granberry, once my pupil, who sat in my recitation-room for four full years, in the quiet groves of Oakland College. " He is not yet here," replied our host; "but as soon as his Texas friends shall request his removal from a neighbor- ing farm, he shall come here also, to repose among his friends who fell with him on the field of battle." To those in Texas who have friends buried in this at- tractive spot, I would add that if they have inquiries to make, or requests to present respecting their dead, they may communicate without reserve with Colonel McGav- ©ck, the proprietor of the premises, who will cheerfully and promptly impart all needed information. And to some who may ask to be more fully informed respecting the agency of Miss Gay, who presented the claims of the cemetery to their consideration, I may add that no one more worthy of their confidence could have been selected to convey their offerings to the place designated. f ^ COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY iir" 0035520108 928 •n H374 PHOTOCOP^f ^