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REV. DR BODWELL'S

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AUGUST 5, 1866.

A Pastor's Fare-well to his Flock.

SERMON,
PBBACHED IN THE
FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH,
WOBURN, MASS.,
AUGUST 5, 1866.

By Joseph C. Bodwell.

WOBUEN:
MIDDLESEX JOUENAL JPEESS.-E. MAECHANT, PEINTEE.-MAIN ST.
1866.

Wobuen, August 16, 1866.

Eev. J. C. Bodwell, D. D.
Dear Sir: — By unanimous vote of the Church, we have been
appointed a Committee to solicit for publication a copy of the Tare-..
well Sermon preached by you on the 5th inst. Your compliance with
their wishes will be most gratifying to them and to us.
Your friends,
JOHN R. KIMBALL,
DAVID D. HART,
EPHRAIM CUTTER, COMMITTEE.
LEWIS L. WHITNEY,
WILLIAM A. STONE,

Wobukn, August 17, 1866.
Messrs. John E. Kimball, David P, Haet, JJpheaim Cutter,
L. L. "Whitney, William A. Stone,
My Dear Friends : — In compliance with the request of the
Church, conveyed in your kind note of the 16th inst,, I send herewith
the manuscript of the Sermon, with the earnest prayer that its publi
cation may subserve, through the blessing of God, the welfare of the
flock to which my heart is bound by so many strong and tender ties.
Very faithfully and affectionately yours,
J. Q, BODWELL,

SERMON

" And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of
his grace, which is able to build yon up, and to give you an inherit
ance among all them which are sanctified." — Acts, xx. : 32.
f?HE heart of the apostle was full of tender and
1* sorrowful emotion. He loved the church at
@2 Ephesus, as only a pastor can love the flock
^ among Avhom he has lived and labored in the
ministry of the gospel.. For the space of three years
he had dwelt there, and had preached Christ to the
church which, without being perfect, had stood so
firm amid all the seductions of Grecian effeminacy
and voluptuousness, as to have called forth that singu
lar commendation of the Holy Spirit in the Apoca
lypse : " I know thy works, and thy labor, and thy
patience." In all the boundless grace and fullness of
its doctrines, in all the riches of its everlasting
promises, and in all the breadth and strictness of its
precepts, he had preached the "word of God. Nothing
had been kept back, and nothing had been softened,
to flatter the pride of carnal reason, and conciliate the
favor of unregenerate men.

The blessing of God had attended his ministry.
Some had opposed, but many had believed, and had
nobly sustained the apostle in his faithful labors. He
had been to them a true and loving pastor ; had minis
tered consolation to them in their afflictions, and
rejoiced with them in every joy. Already they were
reaping largely, both minister and flock, very precious
fruits. Their hearts were one. With what emphasis
could Paul say to them : " Peace to the brethren, and
love with faith from God the Father and the Lord
Jesus Christ." A love stronger than death bound
them to one another, even as the same undying love
bound them to Christ.
His ministry among them has reached, at length,
its appointed close. The providence of God is
Commanding him away. He must bid them fare
well, to meet them no more till both shall- stand at
the judgment bar of Christ. He has been absent
from them a little season, preaching the gospel at
Philippi, at Corinth, at Troas. Southward, among
the islands of the Archipelago, the ship which bears
the apostle again makes its way. He will not trust
himself to stand where he has stood so often, in the
congregation of his beloved Ephesians, nor subject
them to the trial of a parting interview. .The ship,
by his special oi'der, keeps at a distance from the port
of Ephesus, and makes for Miletus, some forty miles
further south. There he sends for the elders, and
there, through the elders, he speaks to the flock his
words of affectionate farewell. What could be more
fitting than the language in which he breathes his
tender and earnest prayer for the growth and spiritual

prosperity of that beloved flock, when his pastoral
oversight of them shall have ceased forever : " And
now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the
word of his .grace, which is able to build you up, and
to give you an inheritance among all thetn which are
sanctified." Be this the language of my soriowful benediction to
you, my dear brethren. Sorrowful, because my labors
among you in the ministry of the gospel are brought
this day to their appointed close. Here, where I
have so loved to stand in the hallowed service of our
Sabbath assemblies-, I stand now for the last time to
address you as your pastor. When the service is
ended, and our parting hymn sung, and the solemn
benediction pronounced, the record of out mutual rela
tions, as pastor and flock, will be closed, and sealed,
and laid away, to be brought to light when we shall
stand together in the judgment of the great day*
The Sabbath on which I stood here fot the first time
to address you and direct your worship as your pastor,
as I stand now for the last time, can hardly have faded
from your memory. It was a cold November day,
nearly four years ago. You remember the text of
that morning sermon : " The glorious gospel of the
blessed God." Was I not right in thinking that it was
mainly for this purpose you had called me, that I
should preach from this pulpit, and in this holy and
beautiful house, the glorious gospel of the blessed
God 1 This is God's grand design in the institution of
the Christian ministry, even as the Christian ministry
is God's instrumentality, in every age, for the upbuild
ing of the church, and the salvation of the world., , If

I have failed in this, I have failed in everything.
" Woe is me if I preach not the gospel," said Paul .
and only because he had come fully up to the measure
of his high obligation in this matter at Ephesus, could
he say, in that last touching address : " Wherefore I
take you to record this day, that I am pure from the
blood of all men." Pure from . the blood of all men,
not because he had not preached soul-destroying error,
but because he had not kept back one jot or tittle of
the truth of the gospel.
This, in all the ages, has been, as it is to-day, the
grand temptation and peril of the Christian ministry,
to keep back something of the truth, and thus to
incur the guilt of blood ; to lie under the fearful bur
den of the everlasting death of human souls. There
is glory in the gospel, the brightest possible glory, the
highest conceivable grandeur of wisdom, and power,
and truth, and love. But it is all for Christ ; and for
Christ as the Divine and all-sufficient Redeemer of
man from depths of guilt, and degradation, and
wretchedness, than which nothing can be conceived of
more abject and hopeless. A total corruption of the
moral nature, from the birth and from the conception,
involving all the race in the same condemnation with
Adam, is the plain and unmistakable doctrine of the
Bible. The Son of God, the Father's equal and fellow
from eternity, descending from his throne, laying aside
his sceptre and his crown, entering into a mysterious
union with our fallen humanity, and suffering, in the
garden and on the cross, the holy displeasure of God
and the penalty due to the sins of the world, sb mak
ing full satisfaction to the claims of immutable justice,

, and preparing the way for the sinner's justification, as
perfect as that of the unfallen angels, through the
imputation of Christ's righteousness by faith : this is
no less clearly and unmistakably taught in the Word
of God.
This is the truth of the gospel ; and the fruit of all,
when Christ makes it effectual, by the Holy Spirit, in
the conscience and the heart, is to redeem from all
iniquity, and to purify unto himself a peculiar people,
zealous of good works.
This, my brethren, is the glorious gospel of the
blessed God ; this, and nothing less. This is the gos
pel, as you will bear me witness to-day, which, duiing
these last four years, I have preached unto- you. I
have not been ignorant, brethren, that there has been,
all around us, the zealous setting forth of doctrines
differing widely from this ; and for which it is claimed
that they are the fruit of a higher interpretation, a
profounder insight, a more matured scholarship. I
have examined these views with care, and' I can not
accept them. They do, in my judgment, clearly set
aside the positive, and emphatic, and oft-repeated
declarations of the Word of God in relation to human
sinfulness, and the atonement by Christ, and regenera
tion and justification. To say that men are born the
subjects of a depravity which has in it nothing more of
a moral nature than there is in a cancer ; that they are
born sinless, and with full power to obey God's perfect
law, and enter heaven with no help from Christ — this
assuredly is not the doctrine of the fathers, neither,
but by the most daring sophistry, can the declarations
of the Bible be reduced to even a seeming harmony

10
with sUch teaching,, So, too, When I heal1 it bi'oadly.
asserted that, in all the humiliation and sufferings of
the Soil of God, thefe was no bearing of the penalty
due to sin, and no proper satisfaction made to the jus
tice of God ; that all the huge agony which filled the
soul of Christ at Gethseniane and Calvary ^ was nothing
more than an expression of the desert of transgression,
I find, uideed, the fittitig counterpart of such a doctrine
of human sinfulness as has been indicated;, but not the
Bible doctrine of the atonement; John affirms at
once a fact and a doctrine, When he says of the sons of
God, " Which are born, not of blood, nor of the will
of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God;"
yet these men of profounder insight claim, that man
has a self-regenerating power. It should occasion no
surprise, after this, that the doctrine which the church
has so long held, of justification by the direct imputa
tion of Christ's righteousness, should be sought to be
set aside by bi'oad caricature and allegation of contra
diction. My brethren), these are not unimportant shades of
difference, according to a . constitutional predisposition
or the bearing of a philosophy. Do not their advo
cates claim that they are a new and advanced theology,
as compared With the views held by the fathers alike
in early and in latter days ? Rather they are, possibly
in a new form, the experiment which has been renewed
in each succeeding age of the church, to reduce the
profound and humbling* mysteries of the Christian
faith to the level of human reason. That such mighty
thinkers, and humble learners in the school of Christi.
as Anselm, and Augustine, and John Calvin, and

1 1

Owen, and Howe, would have welcomed such bold
speculations as a substantial advancement in biblical
interpretation and the science of theology j is a notion
to excite a smile.
These views, so extensively and so zealously put
forth in our day, are a wide departure from scriptural
soundness in the faith. They do not lead to serious
and fatal error : they constitute the very substance of
such dangerous error* If they are admitted, the clear
and emphatic teachings of the Word of God on funda
mental and vital points cannot stand. It is not, in my
judgment, a circumstance to excite our special won
der, that the most brilliant of all the living champions
of this higher interpretation should have put forth his
strength, in a goodly octavo*, to overturn that great
foundation doctrine of the vicarious nature of the
sufferings of Christ ; boldly affirming that the death of
the Son of God had no more relation to the Divine
justice and the violated and dishonored law, than have
the sufferings which you voluntarily incur, when you
enter, from a strong sympathy or a sentiment of benev
olence, into efforts to redeem and save the fallen and
miserable ! For, if Christ did not bear the penalty
due to sin, then what have We of atonement % It is,
therefore, no matter of astonishment that the advocates
of the new divinity do not find it in their hearts to
treat otherwise than with tenderness this production of
Dr. Bushnell, in which he goes vaulting clean into the
ranks of Socinianism. It is only a new instance and
illustration of the old law of sympathy;
I thank God to-day, my brethren, that I have
* " Vicarious Sacexfice-.'5

12

preached among you, not a new gospel, but the old ;
even the same which I declared unto you at the begin
ning: the glorious gospel of the blessed God, in all its
breadth and fulness, its vast and incomprehensible
mysteries of- human guilt and redeeming love, bring
ing only abasement and shame to fallen man, and
glory to Jesus Christ, in his deliverance and restora
tion. This is the grand system of faith contained in
the Catechism, and in the symbols of the fathers and
early churches of New England, so lately re-affirmed
by the great national council of Congregationalism, as
they stood under the open sky, near Plymouth rock.
Need I say that this preaching has not been without
its appropriate fruits ] That it has excited displeasure
and provoked resistance, is simply a thing of course,
if it has bean true to the great commission. " For the
word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than
any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing
asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and mar
row, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of
the heart." The pulpit has only words of tenderness
and love for the contrite, the humble, the sincere, the
obedient ; but it has thunders of doom for the wicked.
It must be separated, by an infinite distance, from
every kind of complicity with evil. The impure, the
profane, they that speak lies and defraud, the covetous,
extortionate, unjust man, must find no peace in the
sanctuary. The arrows of the Almighty must be
made to stick fast in them, and his terrors must make
them afraid. But, above all, if evil doers seek to hide
their iniquity under a hypocritical profession of godli
ness, going to the table of the Lord with heart and

13

lips and hands defiled ; doing things in secret and
in the open daylight, at which upright and honorable
men of the world stand aghast ; making the house of
prayer a den of thieves, and the church of God a
temple of impurities. O, my brethren, if the loudest
thunders of hell do not shake terribly the miserable
foundations on which such men stand, then is not the
Christian pulpit true to its high appointment. God
grant there may have been little need of such severity
in my ministrations among you, my beloved brethren.
We turn to more grateful thoughts. If the preach
ing of the gospel has ministered instruction to you
during these years of our happy relation, so that you
have seen more clearly the glory of Christ, and your
hearts have been enlarged in the knowledge of the
truth ; if you have found strength in God in the hour
of temptation, and consolation in the hour of sorrow ;
if your faith and love and Christian courage have been
confirmed, so that you have never for a moment
wavered, in your allegiance to Christ, or hesitated in
the duty he required of you, then, assuredly, you have
not received^ the grace of God in vain, and I have not
labored among you in vain.
May I not retire from this pulpit, and leave this
beautiful and thriving town, with the cheering impres
sion that my ministry has not been without its fruits in
the formation of the character of the young, in purity,
uprightness, intelligence, the love of country and the
fear of God; that all the virtues and graces which
should adorn the young of both sexes, and constitute
their high qualification to be the founders of the future
families in this most favored and happy community,

14
have been fostered and nourished by the spirit and
principles of that gospel which has here been pro
claimed] I can never forget the yearning of heart
with which I saw the throng of young men who
helped to make up the large congregation on the first
Sabbath of my preaching here in the spring of 1862 ;
and how enviable to me, on that day, appeared the lot
of him whom Christ should appoint to preach to those
young men the glorious gospel of the blessed God.
How interesting a part of my charge you, young men
of Wobum, have been, and how earnestly I have
desired your welfare, I shall not need on this occasion
to remind you. The interest you have manifested in
the services of God's house has been among the things
which have contributed most to impart strength and
gladness to my heart under the almost overwhelming
pressure of my responsibilities and toils.
The grand ultimate design of preaching the gospel
is the salvation of sinners. If I have not aimed
habitually and earnestly at this grand resu.lt, then,
dojibtless, my ministry has exhibited a mournful defect.
My brethren, God is witness how sincerely I have
desired, and how often prayed, if it were His will,
that the best days of your past history might return
upon us, when, through the mighty outpouring of the
Holy Spirit upon the labors of the beloved Bennett,
hundreds were converted to Christ, and became largely
the strength and glory of this highly favored church.
Alas, this honor and joy were not for me. Yet God
has permitted us to rejoice in the steady and almost
constant admission of members, commencing on the
first Sabbath of our commemorating the Saviour's love

15

together, and terminating to-day. That so large a
number have, through the blessing of God upon my
ministry, become, as we trust, Christians indeed ; have
experienced that great change whose results are vast
as eternity, and taken their place in the church of God,
fills my heart with devout thankfulness. So great and
marvellous does that change appear to me, my brethren,
that, if I could have the assurance that every indi
vidual of the fifty-five whom I have taken by the hand
and welcomed to the fellowship of this church, on
profession of faith in Christ, was a child of God in
truth and sincerity, and that through my instrumen
tality, I should feel that I ought to be filled with
amazement and joy, through all eternity, at the extent
of the honor put upon me by the Master.
You will permit me to remind you of the promin
ence which has been given to the subject of infant
baptism in my ministry among you. It is. among the
things fixed and cherished in my most settled convic
tions, that the covenant which God made with Abra
ham so long ago, is still in force, having never been
annulled, but renewed and confirmed under the gospel ;
that it embraces the infant children of believers now,
as it did then ; that its seal is baptism ; that it lies near
the foundation of the church ; that it is of the very
last importance in its ordained relation to the growth
and- prosperity of the church, and can not be neglected
without serious loss and damage. It is, therefore,
matter of most heartfelt satisfaction to me this day,
that of the entire number, sixty-twq, who have received
the ordinance of baptism at my hands in the course of
my ministry in Woburn, thirty-seven have been little

1 6

children, brought in the arms of parental faith and
obedience. I remember those little children to-day
with all a pastor's tenderness and affection. They are
of the flock, and the Saviour beholds 'them with a
watchful care and a love ineffable.
This service must not close without a passing tribute
to those who are gone. Your catalogue has been
numerously starred during these few past years, my
brethren, especially among the veterans, and those who
had passed the meridian of life. I look in vain through
this great assembly for the familiar faces of some who
greeted me with a warm and true heart on that day
which installed me as your pastor and theirs. Prom
inent among them was the noble form, still erect at
fourscore, of Dea. Ezekiel Johnson, for many years a
strong and stately pillar in this church of God, richly
adorned with many a Christian grace.
You can not think of him without remembering that
man of masculine energy, quick intelligence, sound
judgment, generous sympathy and large public spirit,
enshrined in a form that was majestic in the maturity of
his manhood, all consecrated to the glory of Christ, and
all commended by a singular courtesy of bearing,
which made him a welcome companion for the young
to the close of his long life ; I mean Dea. Calvin
Richardson. Very fragrant in the memory of us all is the
name of Willis Buckman, a good man, whose very
presence in the house of God, which he dearly loved,
and from whose service he was never absent for
the period of more than thirty years, was a comfort to
his pastor, as it was to him a chief source of the

n

Christian peace and contentment which always beamed
in his open countenance.
Every church has valuable treasures in its quiet,
unobtrusive members. They seek no prominence,
but rather shrink from it. They are self-distrust
ful, modest, humble. But they are far from reproach,
in their daily life, and in their Christian profession.
Such were the venerable men, Stratton and Living
ston, both of whom, like Willis Buckman, were called
suddenly to their rest, and all within the short period
of three months.
Of kindred spirit was Jameson, who brought with
him to Woburn an intelligent and firm attachment to
the old foundations, on which he had been settled
and grounded under the able ministry of such men
as Elias Cornelius and Parsons Cooke, and made full
proof of their strength in his last lingering illness and
peaceful death.
The aged go to the grave as a shock of corn, fully
ripe. Their work is finished, and we can not deplore,
however much we may miss them. The loss is far
greater when the young, the heads of rising famihes,
are called away.
There was such a man, a husband and father, whose
constant attendance and deep interest in the holy Sab
bath and at the weekly meeting for prayer I marked,
while his name was still unknown to me. We missed
him from our weekly assemblies, when he left his dear
home at the call of his country, to return a weary,
broken man, and to pine away unseen, and die, like
many another noble-hearted victim of that dreadful
war. On a cold, winter day, we looked for the last

18

time at the wasted form of Marshall Eaton, in this
house of prayer which he had loved so well, and com
mended his bereaved ana sorrowing ones to the God
of the widow and the fatherless.
Of the same class were Eastman and Fawcett, who
would doubtless have had a place in this church of
Christ, had they been living now, but who had hardly
reached their prime when death ended their career.
Younger still was Alexander, having hardly reached
his majority, who was with us here in all the public
services of the last Sabbath in June, and before the
week was ended had died in perfect peace, through
faith in the blood of the Lamb, and been borne, by the
hands of his companions, from the solemn funeral ser
vice in this house of God to his rest in the grave.
I am sure you will remember to-day, and many among
you with the renewal of a sorrow which time thus far
has only softened, another occasion, when such an
assembly was .gathered here, for numbers, respectability
and intelligence, as this house has very seldom contained.
The noble form which lay unconscious in its coffin in
front of this pulpit, was the form of Dr* Benjamin
Cutter. The presence of that vast concourse, on a
week day, from every class in the community, was a
spontaneous outburst of grief for a man whose death
awakened deep sorrow in all the region round about.
Richly and variously endowed by nature, eminently
skillful as a physician, familiar, by constant study,
with every discovery and advance in his profes
sion, Whether in the United States or in Europe, he
was the acknowledged Mentor of that Medical Society
of whieh he was the father and founder, and in con-

19

stant request in difficult cases of consultation in a large
circuit of towns. Assuredly this was enough for one
man's life. Yet the intelligent stranger who had
accompanied him in a pleasant drive among the hills
and valleys of this exceedingly picturesque town, would
have been very much impressed with his broad and
varied intelligence ; his accurate acquaintance with the
history of the town, which to him was chronicled, as
in a book, in its roads and streams, and ancient, moss-
covered houses, and many an indentation, where houses
long ago had been ; his ready knowledge of every tree,
and shrub, and plant, and the facility with which he
read the lessons of the rocks, written on the huge
boulders, or in the curious layers of the perpendicular
gravel banks. Such a stranger might have set him
down for a man of literary leisure, but would never
have guessed that his heart and hands were constantly
full of the labors and responsibilities of a most anxious
and exhausting profession : nay, I very much doubt
whether he would even have guessed that he was a
member of a profession at all, unless, perchance, he
had called on a patient by the way.
Was there any public or social interest of the town
which had not his warm sympathy, and his active
co-operation \ That beautiful marble monument,
erected by personal love, and admiration, and sorrow,
over his grave, will tell to the generations to come ofthe
influence which Dr. Benjamin Cutter exerted on those
who are to-day the fathers of the town, stimulating and
guiding them in every lofty aim and pursuit, when he
was a young man with them. Was there any class in
the community who would not listen to his counsels,

20

and was not that counsel always well considered, and
judicious, and safe ] In his professional life how well
he won the appellation bestowed on the companion and
fellow-traveler of Paul, " the beloved physician."
He carried every where a heart full and overflowing
with a tender sympathy, as some of you could testify,
who remember the words he spoke to you so kindly in
the time of your affliction.
But his character shone brightest of all as a Christ
ian man, and a faithful and beloved member of this
church of God. How beautiful was the humility
which covered him as a garment. All his endowments
were consecrated to Christ. He was a contrite man,
and a believer. Daily he confessed, with a penitent
heart, his personal guilt, and daily sought forgiveness
through the blood of the Lamb. I almost fear lest I
should seem to intrude on what is private and sacred,
if I venture to refer to the sweet solace which, under
the heavy pressure of his professional labors, he daily
sought at his much loved family altar; in its Scripture
reading and sweet hymns, with music to which his ear
and soul were so nicely attuned, and its fervent prayers.
His attendance here was constant and devout. With
a modesty and humility which instinctively shrunk
from observation, he was a strong and beautiful pillar
in this church. For the long period of twenty-one
years, he was your Clerk, making all your
records with a scrupulous accuracy, and with
a singular neatness and elegance, and resigned his
office only with his life. Do you not see him still, and
catch the sound of his clear, sweet voice, as he stood

21
up in his accustomed place with us for the last time,
and sung, out of the fulness of his heart :
" Hock of Ages I cleft for me."
Smitten down in the full strength of his powers, and
at the point of his highest influence and usefulness, he
saw the approach of death without the very slightest
symptom of fear, made all his arrangements as calmly
as if it had been for a pleasant journey, bid an affec
tionate farewell to his family, and died as he had lived,
in a serene and unfaltering trust in the atoning blood
of Christ.
I am sure you would not forgive me if I did not
allude tenderly in this connection, to one whom we all
sincerely loved and deeply deplore, although he was
not a member of the Church ; the ingenuous, upright
Jotham Hill. In all the ordinary relations of life,
private and public, he was a model man ; of most exact
and scrupulous integrity, to whose name any suspicion of
wrong could not have been made to adhere. The
edifices he reared were a fitting emblem of his own
well-compacted and beautiful character. How constant
was his attendance in this house of God, which he
raised from its foundations to the summit of its lofty
spire, without the smallest accident ; and how sincere
his interest in the great purposes of its erection, you
do not need to be reminded. We trust that in his
heart was a true principle of faith in that Redeemer
whom we worship, and that he stands in that Redeem
er's presence, absolved from the mistake he committed
in not confessing his name before men.
Precious, O my brethren, exceeding precious in your

22

heart, is the memory of our buried dead ; and precious
also to me, beyond what any poor words of mine can
express. We can not forget, in this sorrowful tribute,
those Christian women who have likewise gone from
us during these few swift years. Their names, some
of them once and twice repeated, will recall their
many Christian virtues, their cheerful service done for
Christ, the beauty of their daily life, their meekness
in suffering, and their peaceful death. Richardson,
Whitcher, Shattuck, Weston, Gage, Cummings, Wyer,
Fowle, Coffin, Carlton, Rickard, Pearsons, Hill : prec
ious all, and all, we trust, in the Lamb's Book of Life.
Most of them were members, faithful and devoted, of
that Society* whose semi-centennial anniversary was
celebrated about one year ago ; a society whose influ
ence, in my judgment, has been of untold value to
the best interests of this church and congregation.
There are other names of young disciples, very dear
to the pastor's heart, not all of whom had publicly
professed theh faith in Christ : Anna Maria Thomp
son, Annie P. Richardson, Fannie Howard Trull, Clara
Shedd : their simple faith and peaceful death-beds,
how pleasant to remember.
Among the things which engaged the anxious atten
tion of Dr. Benjamin Cutter in his last brief and
distressing illness, as you remember, the interests of
this church and parish had a prominent place. On
his death-bed and in his will, the last instrument to
which he set his hand, he secured a generous donation,
the sum he had purposed to give, towards the payment
of the heavy debt then resting on this house of God.
* The Female Charitable Readixg Society.

23

Doubtless it would have gladdened his spirit in depart
ing, had he been permitted to know how soon, and by
what particular instrumentality, that enterprise was
to be accomplished.
I greatly doubt., my brethren, if that achievement
has been appreciated by you, whether considered with
reference to its difficulty, or the peculiar magnitude of
its bearing and results. We were passing into the
deepening shadows of that great and dreadful war.
All the burdens which war inevitably brings were
daily increasing upon us, and all hearts were oppressed
with gloom. Was that the time for the payment of
such a debt 1 Yet it was done.
The total cost of the house was sixty thousand
dollars. Up to March, 1863, only twenty thousand
dollars had been realized on the sale of pews. Be
tweeen that time and November, 1864, one year and
eight months, the entire balance of forty thousand
dollars was secured. During this period one hundred
and thirty pews were sold, appraised at twenty-five
thousand dollars, and all the rest was a free gift from
the willing hearts of a generous congregation. All
this, my brethren, not only without damage to any
other object, but with constant and steady increase of
our contributions to the cause of Christ at home and
abroad, which increase has continued to the present
time. Was it not a manifest token of the favor and bless
ing of God ] Need I say that such an enterprise is
only possible to a community of great commercial
resources; only possible to a community of a large
and generous heart, and of broad and liberal views in

24
regard to the worship of the house of God? But
having all this, and you had it all, one other thing was
no less indispensable, and a thing by no means com
mon, even in a community of the most abundant
wealth and the largest liberality. That other indis
pensable thing was, the man or men who could, and
who would, take so great an enterprise in hand and
carry it through. I take leave to say here, on this
occasion, that they must be men of a rare combination
of qualities. God gave you the men, and the thing
was done.,
My brethren, have you duly weighed all this, and
estimated aright the singular favor of God in this
matter] I fear you have not. For myself, when I
remember how I felt when I stood up here and consid
ered that this house, so commodious and magnificent,
which we called Jehovah's, and had solemnly dedi
cated to him, lay under an incumbrance of forty
thousand dollars, and then think how that incumbrance
has been removed, and the house of God made free, I
seem to myself like a man who has accomplished with
safety a difficult and perilous voyage, or who has
escaped from some complication which might have
resulted in a crushing calamity. My heart exults in
the thought, as I preach my last sermon in' this beauti
ful house, that it is entirely and forever free from the
burden which rested upon it when I preached my first.
And, brethren, will you pardon me if I say, I fear God
may have been displeased with you, for that you have
not duly estimated and properly acknowledged his
signal favor and interposition, in this so great and
important matter.

25

It is fit and incumbent, in this farewell address to
my own beloved flock, that I should make grateful
mention of the very pleasant relations I have had with
the general community of my fellow citizens during
the period of my residence in Woburn. Among the
cherished memories of these years will be that of the
many noble and generous hearts with whom it has
been my privilege to be acquainted in congenial social
intercourse, and to labor with them in connection with
the various public interests of the town. It has been
a peculiar gratification to know intimately a class
deserving of all honor in every community, the instruc
tors of the young ; while to have free access to the
children and youth assembled in our public schools,
has been to me, I can not tell you how largely, amid
labors of a graver nature, a recreation, a solace, and a
joy. All this I owe to your generous confidence, my
fellow citizens, which assigned me so early a place in
the board of your Superintending Committee ; a place
which, from the peculiar courtesy and kindness of the
gentlemen with whom I have been associated in this
service, not less than from the pleasure of the service
itself, it will cause me deep regret to resign.
I have made allusion already to the gloom which
was settling more and more heavily on our country
when I came to dwell among you four years ago.
Stranger, comparatively, to you all, it has been to me
a matter of pride that this old town of Woburn so
promptly and nobly bore her part at every point in
that dreadful conflict. We have rejoiced together in
the successful termination of that conflict ; have real
ized results greater and grander far than the most

26

sanguine dared anticipate ; while we are recovering so
rapidly from the tremendous shock, that the direful
scenes so recently enacted, seem already fading away
as a dream. To the God of our fathers we will give
the praise.
But I am forgetting, what, indeed, it is most painful
to remember, that I am preaching my farewell to this
much loved people of my pastoral charge. The time
for which God sent me to labor among you is brought,
this day, to its appointed close. The work which
He sent me to do is accomplished. I should be
ungrateful indeed, if I did not feel that to have been
associated with you, as your pastor, in the experience of
such incidents, and the accomplishment of such enter
prises as have passed in review, is a high honor and
privilege. That these four years, with what they have
embraced, make up a period in your history fraught
with the gravest issues as relates to your future well-
being as a church, it is impossible to doubt. It is
yours, my brethren, to see to it that all be made to
subserve, under God, the designed and appropriate end,
for the glory of Jesus Christ, and the honor and sta
bility and enlargement of this his church.
It is given to no man to accomplish any thing of
importance in this world, except through incessant con
flict with obstacles and difficulties, and least of all to
the Christian pastor. When seen aright, these only
brace the heart for its appointed work, and promote
its triumphs. How greatly, also, they enhance, to the
pastor, the value of every manifestation of confidence
and affection, only he can fully understand. Shall I
say, my beloved friends, that it increases at once the

27

sorrow and joy of this parting, that such manifesta
tions have so much abounded on your part, during the
entire period of my sojourn among you. Be assured
that not one of them all is forgotten. Each one has
made its impression on my heart, and the hearts of my
household, to be remembered with increasing gratitude
when we shall be separated from you forever. The
elegant gifts you brought, wherewith to commemorate
an interesting domestic anniversary*, will be treasured
heir-looms to my children's children. Your repeated
and ample munificence, when war had deranged the
standard of values, was meet confirmation of what I
had heard long before, that you know how to take care
of your minister. All these outward tokens have had
their chief value in the fact that they were the honest
expression of true and loving hearts.
And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to
the word of his grace, which is able to build you up,
and give you an inheritance among all them which are
sanctified. O, my brethren, I should be sorrowful
indeed to-day, if I might not do this ; but because I
can thus commend you to God, my soul is filled with
perfect peace. He is able to build you up. This is
his church, purchased with his blood, and infinitely
dearer to his heart than to yours or mine. All his
boundless wisdom and grace in Christ Jesus our Lord,
and all the infinite fullness and tenderness of his ever
lasting love are pledged for your guidance, instruction,
safety and peace.
You will permit me to remind you, my dear breth
ren, that these are vouchsafed only as you are faithful

* The Pastob's Silver Wedding, Mat 16, 1864.

28

to the exalted trust Christ has committed to your
hands. A vast responsibility rests upon you. Christ
will build you up only in certain ordained and unalter
able methods. One of these is scriptural soundness
and fullness of doctrinal instruction. This is the very
substance of the food on which the church of God
lives and thrives. Let it be withheld, and the result is
spiritual apostacy and death. You must look to this,
my brethren, and that with an unslumbering vigilance
and jealousy. And I pray you never to forget, that
you are not to be satisfied merely when you find no
positive error in the teachings of the pulpit. You
must have the truth, or you will die. The prison at
Andersonville became a Golgotha, not from the pres
ence of poison, but from the lack of bread. The
history of the church is full of instruction and of
melancholy warning on this point. The most desolat
ing floods of scepticism and infidelity have had their
rising in the omission of the great doctrines in the
ministrations of the pulpit. What then have you to
do, my brethren] You are to see to it, J answer, not
that he who comes to you brings no positive doctrinal
error, but that he comes in the fullness of the blessing
of the gospel of Christ. " All scripture is given by
inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for
reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness;
that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly
furnished unto every good work."
Of hardly less importance, in order to the spiritual
prosperity and enlargement of a church, is the steady
and persistent maintenance of discipline. What is
this, but the administration of the law of Christ, the

29
loyalty of his realm, the honor and stability of his
kingdom ] To neglect it, is daring presumption, high
handed disobediance, deliberate crime. It is disloyalty
to Jesus Christ, the subversion of his supremacy, the
unbarring of the gates of the citadel to his foes.
And all for what ] Will you do it for the sake of
peace] But know you not that such are not the
peace-makers on whom Jesus pronounced the blessing]
"First pure, then peaceable," is the law pf the
church. To reverse this is to make a covenant with
death, and betray Christ. I say, brethren, to betray
Christ, and sell his honor to his foes. In the case of
Judas Iscariot, the price was money. Here it is a
miserable, and a dishonorable peace ; a delusion and a
lie. Scan closely this cowardly plea of peace, and yon
shall find, many times, it is resolved into that which
filled the hand of Judas ; nay, even less than the thirty
pieces of silver. Is there wrong and scandal in the
church ; wrong and scandal, from even the imputation
of which upright and honorable men of the world
would make haste to set themselves free] And do
you suffer the men who are guilty of such wrong ;
and do they, on their part, suffer you to escape from
the personal inconvenience, the disturbance of social
quiet, or, peradventure, the loss in trade which allegi
ance to Christ, in maintaining the order of his house,
might entail ] What is this but a corrupt and traitor
ous compact, a deliberate selling of the honor and
favor of Jesus Christ, for the favor of wicked men]
And what can the result be, but his sore displeasure,
and his signal judgments] If a cowardly surrender
to evil-doers, the lawless and the factious, is confusion

30

and ignominy and ruin in the civil State, it is not less
so in the church of God. To doubt that the approba
tion of the Lord Jesus Christ, in a most unquestioning
compliance with all his commands, is the first and
absolutely indispensable condition of health and pros
perity to a church, what is this but infidelity, and how
can it fail to incur the displeasure of the Lord ] In
the faithful administration of the laws of his house,
on the other hand, and a steadfast adherence to sound
scriptural doctrine, are the peace of God, and health,
and life.
And now, dear brethren, my work is done. Yet
suffer me, once more, to commend to the confidence
of this great congregation the infinite and almighty
Redeemer, whom, with many imperfections, I have
preached to you in this place. He offers himself to
your acceptance now, with all the atoning efficacy of
his death, the cleansing power of his blood, the
exceeding and untold riches of his grace and love.
You need, to-day, that peace in your conscience which
only the blood of Christ can give. You will need, in
the hour of temptation, when fierce passion is hurrying
you into awful guilt, the strength and aid of his Holy
Spirit. In the bitterness of sorrow, which comes to
us all, you will be poor indeed if you have not the
sympathy of Christ ; and when you shall reach the
end of this mortal life, and your spirit is leaving its
house of clay, what will you do if Jesus receives you
not to a place in heaven ] He offers himself, in all
the plentitude of his love, to your acceptance to-day.
Brethren, dear brethren, farewell ! Be faithful and
true in the allegiance you owe to Jesus Christ, and

31

your peace and prosperity as a church shall yet
surpass all that you have experienced in the years
which are gone, and when you come to die, you shall
leave, in Christian ordinances, and in a spiritual order
and purity and life, of which this holy and beautiful
house will be only a very faint symbol, a glorious
inheritance to your children's children.