i

SERMON
PREACHED AT THE ORDINATION
OF THE
REV. GEORGE'M. BARTOL,
AS MINISTER OF THE FIRST CHURCH IN LANCASTER,
WITH THE EIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP, THE
CHARGE, AND AN APPENDIX.

C II R 1 S T THE WAY.

SERMON
PREACHED AT THE
ORDINATION OF THE REV. GEORGE M. BARTOL,
AS MINISTER OF THE
FIRST CHURCH OF CHRIST, IN LANCASTER, MASS.,
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 4, 1847.
BY CYRUS A. BARTOL,
in
JUNIOR MINISTER OF THE WEST CHURCH IN BOSTON-

WITH THE RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP,
BY REV. c. t. thayek;
AND THE CHARGE, BY REV. ALONZO HILL.

PUBLISHED BY REQUEST OF THE PARISH.
LANCASTER:
PRINTED BY BALLARD & MESSINGER.
1847.

Note. Some passages printed in the Discourse were omitted
in the delivery.

SERMON.

"I am the Way."— 'John xiv. 6.
Jesus, about to go away from his disciples, tells them the way
he was going they already knew. Thomas replies, we know not
whither thou goest, and how can we know the way? Jesus rejoins,
lam the way, — the true and living way to the Father. Whatever
particular purpose of consolation or instruction was in his mind at
the beginning of the conversation, his thought swells into its
wonted generality and grandeur as he goes on. He uses other
strong figures of the same purport. lam the door. lam the light
of the world. And the whole strain of the New Testament, literal
and metaphorical, goes to this one point, that Christ is the way
of human salvation.
• This doctrine implies a preliminary consideration of the need
men have of light and guidance. They are wanderers who have
lost their way. They are as those that sit and wait in darkness
• for the sun to rise upon them. They are as an untended, scattered
flock, seeking entrance into the fold. Christ is the path, the light,
the door, — in one word, the way.
We may hold various theories of man's lost and benighted
condition. We may say he is constitutionally depraved as the
heir of Adam's sin; we may say he sins freely on his own
account without any such fatal hereditary bias ; or we may say
that his errors and transgressions are but the marks of his imper
fect and undeveloped state, like that of the nebula of the firma
ment, whose dim and misty form will be rounded at length into a
sliining world ; and we may ask if it shall not take as long to
make and perfect a man, an immortal soul, as a planet, a mass of
ghttering dust. But whatever our theory may be, we can hardly

differ as to the fact, that man is an erring, sinful being ; in dark
ness, and too often loving the darkness he is in, and needing light
and guidance. Or if any one will assume the natural perfection
and sufficient self-illumination of the soul, there will be to him no
question between one way or another, for no way at all is needed.
Christ is the way, — the direct individual path of salvation. He
that climbeth up some other way is a thief and a robber. There
is no way that can be a substitute for him.. And here is the great
danger, which he himself foresaw, of making something else the
substitute for him.
Many are in danger, at the present time, of substituting the
Church for Christ, — the body for the head. And surely there can
be no life, or fight, or salvation in this. Christ's Church is properly
the union of his disciples in him, by faith, and love, and obedi
ence. Considered in this spiritual idea, as constituted by these
inward bonds, it could not be so perverted or misplaced. But it is
when unduly exaggerated in its external character, and so but
partially manifesting its own idea, overlaying and alloying it with
baser elements, that it suffers so fundamental an abuse. And
that theory of the Church, which makes its essence to consist in
outward forms and rites, particularly exposes it to this loss of its
own purity, and sacrilegious assumption of the Master's office.
The Church is substituted for Christ, whenever its organization
and ordinances are brought into nearer view than his mind and
life, and made prominent, to obscure his moral glory, to eclipse
the sun of righteousness. It is substituted for Christ when it
assumes by its special observances to be the way of salvation. It
is at best and in the exercise of its loftiest influence, only a ivay
lo the way, — a foot-path into the clear and open road to God and
heaven, — and it abjures its own office in grasping at a higher.
All we ask of it is, to point to Christ. Even the forms or institu
tions with which he himself clothed his Church, are guarded
against degenerating into superstition, only when held in sim
plicity and immediate connexion with himself. All beyond is
•error and injurious substitution for him.
The doctrine ofthe Church insisted on at the present day, with
seme new indications of success, penetrating into the Protestant
communion, and well adapted to the weakness of human nature,
is a gross departure from the truth of the Gospel. It makes the

formal and sensible in religion to be the essential. It affirms a
particular mode of priestly ordination and succession, and a spe
cial understanding and administration of the sacraments, as vital
and indispensable to regenerate and sanctify the soul. It recog
nizes no salvation in any other way. A greater violation of
Christianity it is hard to conceive.
If there be any thing characteristic of tho religion of the Gos
pel, it is its spirituality ; its spare and frugal appeal to the senses,
the richness and fulness of its address to the soul ; the greater
account it makes of the internal and invisible in religion, than of
the outward and formal. The Church, according to this theory,
magnifies the visible and disparages the unseen. It has its ap
propriate symbol, not in those finer forms of life, where the vital
forces are hid in the centre of a noble organization, but in those
inferior creatures, whose nervous and vital system is upon the
outside and chiefly connected with the skin.
Christ is no external Saviour, by mechanical conditions, and a
large apparatus of means, but himself the means, and as the
great Apostle declares, he is a cjuiclxning spirit. The formal
Church, I know, pretends to a loftier presentation even of Christ's
influence than that of those whom it calls the dissenters, inasmuch
as it teaches that his disciples receive him, even his living body,
in the consecrated bread of the Supper. But what we want to
receive is not the body of our Lord, but his spirit. Were the
transubstantiation real, it would be a very little thing, compared
with the spiritual transformation of mind and heart into the Sa
viour's image. For, as the Apostle Paul says, we do not know
even Christ himself after the flesh. But we would have him
formed within us the hope of glory. We would obtain our nour
ishment, not from his literal body, but from his living virtue, his
divine temper, his holy love to God and man. As he himself said,
after speaking of the eating of his flesh and chinking of his blood,
his toords are spirit and life.
And so in regard to the introductory rite of Baptism. It is a
sacred symbol of Christian purity, of filial adoption and divine
training, to be gladly used for ourselves and our children. But to
see in it a literally regenerating power distinct from a sincere real
izing of its import, is to substitute it as the way of salvation for
Christ.

Had the ordinance itself this positive and independent efficacy,
the chief Apostle would not have solemnly thanked God that he
had baptized so few, merely for fear of misapprehension of his
act. Received as signifying all that is holy in God's law, binding
in parental duty, and needful in religious nurture, it is indeed
precious. For thus it is but a step to Christ the living way.
In the natural religions which have arisen in the world, and in
the early dispensation through Moses, suited to the spiritual child
hood of the race, the element of form has predominated, the priest
regarded as exercising prerogatives and functions mysteriously
distinguishing him from all other men. But Christianity pre
sumes that the human mind has at last come of age. Christianity
presumes that it is at length capable of something better ; recept
ive of an influence more akin to its own spiritual and aspiring
nature. The great High Priest of our profession, the Son of God,
identified himself with man, and would have his ministers and
disciples identify themselves with mankind. The genius of his
religion is to recognize the equality of men before God, their com
mon privilege of freedom, growth, and pursuit of immortal happi
ness. And nothing can stir the best principles, excite the loftiest
efforts, and turn the inborn dignity of the soul into an inbred
worth, like this recognition of its capacity, by God's grace, to
subdue evil inclinations into virtue, and turn temptation to victory.
Christ is the way of salvation by this moral power with which he
quickens and ennobles the human heart, kindles in it the sense of
its native honor, and high duty, and heavenly destiny, and which
a system of external means and appliances cannot exert.
The saving and sufficient virtue ascribed to such a system,
makes, not Jesus, but the Church, the mediator between God and
man ; robs him of his peculiar office only to fail in discharging
what it usurps. Let the Church take its true place, and no longer
arrogate the Master's ; by its superficial treatment, healing slightly
the hurt of the daughter of my people, which only the great
Physician can cure. It can bless the world only as it confines
itself to the work of obeying its Head, and of manifesting and
transmitting the true knowledge of Christ himself, without adding
to, or taking from, his own word and life. Its business is simply
that of a servant making way for the Master, and introducing us
directly to him. So far as by the law of spiritual life, his own

immortal excellence has been conveyed to us through it, we will
be grateful, whether the incumbent of a bishropic, or the lowhest
kneeler on the cathedral's marble floor, have been a link in the
chain. But behold the Saviour himself with his disciples to the
end of the world. Lo, — the fountain, whose unbroken stream has
flowed for ages and watered the breadth of the earth along suc
cessive generations, gushing fresh and pure as ever at the very
door of our heart ! Lo, — the divine portrait, of which the myriad
copies have been printed on human souls, standing in all its original
distinctness, unblurred in a single feature, unfading in the least
hue of loveliness and beauty, for every eye to gaze at on the page
of the Gospel. The portrait is alive ! It is Jesus himself. He
speaks in every recorded word, he moves in every narrated incident.
He is the way still to the erring children of men. " Follow me,"
are the words that fall on our ears as truly as on those of the pub
lican and fisherman of Judea and Galilee. Let not the Church
presume to substitute herself, but only set forth Him as the true
and living way. She can only be impotent for his mighty work.
She may rear her temple with its surmounting cross, she may main
tain the decent and impressive order of her service, and employ
every expedient instrument in her legitimate work. But in all, let
her aim be to hold up the spiritual image and figure of her Lord,
precisely as does the lone missionary who gathers his audience in
some rude barn, or upon some rough hill-side, making the spot as
consecrate to Heaven as though it were the walls and arches of
St. Peter's that rang with the preached word, and echoed back the
heaven-seeking enthusiasm of praise. And that body of Chris
tians, small or great, best deserves to be called Christ's Church,
wliich preaches him with the most vivid and regenerating power
among men, be its ecclesiastical form and discipline what they
may, through the whole wide range, — from the pomp of Rome to
the Quaker's meagre ritual. He that best shows to sinners Christ
as the way to God, is at the head of the Christian hierarchy, stands
nearest to Christ in the Apostolic descent, holds the keys wliich he
gave, is the rock on which he builds, and opens the gates of
heaven hi his name. Be he Pope of the Catholic world, or "the
voice of one crying in the wilderness," the common Lord, tlie
qii'kkcning spirit, so marks, and honors, and will own him at last.
But there is another danger of substituting for Christ as the

way of salvation, a theological creed. It certainly is a noble
effort of the human mind to analyze and condense the whole truth
and composition of the Gospel, into a few elementary principles.
The diversity of faith, to which it leads in the Church, arising
from the sincere and earnest convictions of individual minds, is
better than the unity of form based on smothered dissent or
crushed freedom of thought Nay, without this endeavor after
definite views, a firm intellectual hold of Christianity, the religion
would have been in its grave ages ago. No evil arises from this
attempt to compress the religion into a single grasp of the mind,
except when the conclusions arrived at are separated and clothed
with a distinct authority from the Scriptures, instead of being con
tinually compared with, and corrected by them ; that is, when a
creed is substituted for Christ as the way of salvation. Certainly
he has given no encouragement or facility to this. It is in fact a
very difficult thing to reduce his teachings into less compass than
they occupy. Tliere is no waste in them. None of them are of
that minor and subordinate character, which can be without loss
left out ; but all touch on grand principles of truth and duty, like
those great circles that go round the globe. At the same time
they are so intermixed with the details of actual life and the
familiarity of private conversation, as to give us precise moral
directions, and throw a piercing beam of light over each path of
human doubt and difficulty. A creed, setting forth such teach
ings, should be held but as a temporary statement, open to con
tinual amendment, hke a table of calculations to be corrected by
material or astronomical facts. It should never be substituted for
Christ himself, never made the ground of communion instead of
his mind, never imposed as containing the only terms of ecclesias
tical intercourse, or joint Christian action, upon any who receive
those best of all terms, his own words and works. Indeed the
great and pressing need now of believers of every name, is of a
closer resort to Christ as he actually stands, not only in the majesty
of his truth, but in the still holier dignity of his life, on the broad
platform of the evangelic record. If they would come nearer to
each other, let them all come to Him. The Christ of history, and
the Christ of the conscious heart, not diverse, but the same. He,
in his own character, is the harmony of the Gospels, with all-
uniting brightness, throwing then: so much magnified discrepan-

cies into insignificance and shade ; and he alone can reconcile the
varying beliefs of his followers, and be the harmony of his disci
ples' hearts.
If the intellect cannot be satisfied without some complete specu
lative notion of Christianity, let the idea be held, not insulated,
but ever in the light ofthe simple verity as it stands in that frame
of events constructed by the hand of God ; just as we hold our
idea of nature, before the actual manifestation and movement of
the world.
The geologist has his theory of the creation ; but, in the light
of true science, he will never substitute his theory for the fact, but
expose it to continual correction and enlargement from the fact.
And, if he would truly understand nature, he will, beyond and
above his theory, open his soul to her direct influence in the broad
impressions she makes of the Divine power, wisdom and good
ness. Else he exchanges the beauty, order and splendor of the
universe for a figment of his own brain. He narrows to an
abstract theoretical point the vision which should range sublimely
over the sum of things, and catch the living pictures of nature's
operations as they rise. He dwells on the agency of fire or water
as accounting for the existence and condition of things, till he
overlooks the agency of God, and screens his soul from the crea
tive glory, that stirs and shines on every side, with the blinder of
his own speculation. He theorizes about the world and contends
with a differing theorist, till they both depart from Nature, as from
each other, and the scene, the marvellous, glorious scene, at wliich
they might admire, and melt, and worship together, lies between
them like an unoccupied, disputed territory.
And so Christ himself, the true and living way, containing all
the treasures of wisdom, combining the Divine attributes in Ms
words and works, standing before our spirits bright and glorious,
like Nature before our eyes, is set aside by contentious debate
upon the schemes of scholastic divinity, and the gymnastic exer
cises of the farthest reach of theological discussion are put instead
of Him, for the way of life. The larger part of his revelation lies
between the disputants as an unoccupied, disputed territory. No
bar is to be raised to thought, to the earnest action of the human
mind on our religion. This amazing spectacle of the life of Jesus
is a subject for intense meditation. But the meditation should be
2

10
confined to the subject, and not wander away into every question
that may seem to grow out of it, — weaving a cunning clue of
proof-texts, into the labyrinth of doubt, entangling itself with
extraneous difficulties that may be grappled with as a muscular
trial of the understanding, but are impertinent to be connected
with the vital importance of the Gospel. Let us meditate on the
actual substance of the Gospel in the life and character of Jesus,
till he himself rise before us, in his own sinless and divine majesty,
in the full proportions of his commanding soul, in the clear linea
ments of his holy countenance, in the moral impressiveness of his
heavenly doctrine ; and from his divine form, the smoke and mist
of this hot controversy and abstract questioning roll, like the mist
of the mountain-top, away. The want of this simple and true
respect to Jesus Christ is the great defect of the prevailing the
ology. Christ is much referred to, and with the most exalting terms, in
the language of creeds and confessions of faith. But the refer
ence is made too much in the light of a technical and sectarian
idea. What we want to quicken and renew our hearts is, not the
image of him, which we have made and set up on the platform
of our denominational creed, but the living reality, as it appears
in the shape and motions of his own actual career. We want to
remove alike the intervening traditions of time and the. intrusive
prejudices of our own minds, and come into direct contact and
communion with Him. We honor him, not so much by any high
and worshipful phraseology, as by receiving him as he introduces
himself to us, — no more, no less, no other. It is the great wonder
of our religion, that his likeness is preserved so without loss, that
we can cherish him in a personal acquaintance and love as truly
as did John and Mary. The language of sitting at his feet and
learning of him, of being in his company and catching his spirit
seems entirely appropriate still, though the gulf of eighteen hun
dred years divide us from his daily walk and conversation. We
need no more, were it possible, we need less, than his earliest
followers, to substitute a creed for Him, He himself, undying and
immortal on earth as in heaven, is before us. He speaks and asks
the ear of our direct attention. We hang upon the opening of his
lips, our eye turns to his sitting or rising, our feet follow in his
journey, our heart glows at his life-giving accents, our cheek

11
blanches, our bitter tears flow like Peter's at his mild but resist
less reproof. And all our capacity of thought, of spiritual concep
tion, and far-reaching anticipation, is exercised and expanded,
while every good affection and resolution are aroused by his man
ner and voice. Oh ! if the members of every section of his broken
and subdivided Church could thus circle about Him, and sacrifice
the idols of their fragmentary views to the immediate contempla
tion of his spotless, fiill-orbed majesty ; if they would kindle their
souls into a common flame at the light of His revealed and au
thentic glory, how would the reproach of their inveterate strife
pass away ; how, after the long ages of division, the march of their
united and inseparable ranks against the evil in the world would
begin ; how the freedom of the individual soul be reconciled with
the unity of all believers, and the prayer Jesus offered before his
death on the cross be indeed answered of God.
But not only the Church and Theology are thus perverted in
being substituted for Christ, but Philosophy also. True philosophy
and religion have no difference with each other, but fast friendship
alone. It is only philosophy corrupted and carried beyond its
sphere to seize upon the province of faith, and monopolize the
domain of the human soul ; philosophy, coveting a false glory, and
gaining an unreal aggrandizement, whose overweening claims
must be reduced by the stricture of truth.
This philosophy is somewhat rife at the present day. It either
sets Christianity aside to take possession of the whole field of
human knowledge, or includes it stripped of its peculiar titles to
attention, and retaining only the kind of interest due to a multi
tude of moral illustrations and historic facts. The advocates of
this philosophy say ; leave the whole space of observation and
thought free and open. Let us have" no prescription or authority
as to any belief, but in the light of unaided reason, reach unbiased
conclusions. And though the sun be risen to show the way
through the dark and perplexing places of human inquiry, they
still prefer to explore by the lamp of their own judgment wherever
they go. They are jealous of any fixtures of revealed doctrine,
any guides on the road of man's duty and destiny, and nothing
will serve but they must survey and mark the whole route, through
time mto eternity, themselves. Alas, for the mazy and tangled
confusion in which their own several chains of thought lie over

12
the broad field of human life. Complaints are made of the diver
sities of faith, but even these are trifling compared with the diversi
ties of philosophy, while faith has an agreement in grand princi
ples, which philosophy has not attained. So that some philoso
phers of the profounder stamp have been led to throw themselves
at last upon faith of some sort, as furnishing the satisfaction which
their lynx-eyed logic had sought in vain. It is said of the most
distinguished of modern metaphysicians, that, finding himself una
ble by means of argument alone to legitimate any determinations
respecting God and man's relation to Him, he cast himself in the
final resort upon the authority of the conscience, as a surer basis
than any wliich his own intellectual labors could plant. And the
deepest thinkers now, in their loyalty to Christ, cast themselves
upon an authority, as solid as that of conscience, only filling up
its defects and widening its foundations to take in all which the
anxiously searching mind of man might wish to support. It is
indeed the blessing of Christianity to the world, that, in the infi
nite space whicli the philosopher would keep open, it shows the
hand of God appearing to raise the pillars of an intellectual habi
tation for the human soul. The soul, enterprising as it may be
in its excursions, needs such shelter ; it would not be sailing for
ever over the boundless sea of thought, but wants an anchor mid
the commotions of that sea, and a harbor of trust and confidence
from its perpetual heavings, and wearisome waste. Christianity
will never be outgrown, for the greatest even more than the hum
blest mind yearns for the secure mooring and safe directions in its
unknown voyage, which it affords.
For a time, the forward intellect of the age seemed tending
towards an exclusive philosophy, but only as for a moment. Its
ablest and most brilliant productions are now as instinct with
humble faith, as they are with lofty reasoning, and the writings
which seemed for a while to rival those of contemporaneous Chris
tian pens, are now left behind by the more various, composite excel
lence of the essays of a generation of disciples of no one sectarian
school, the manifestation of whose power seems as yet but rising
to the ascendant, while the brightness of an imbelieving rational
ism is already on the wane. And wane it must, — whether des
tined to brighten or fade for a time, to run a longer and mightier
career, or have its spirit laid, as it has so often been, by the potent

13
energy of the Gospel. Rise and run when and where it will, it
must be to its defeat, for it rises against the demonstrations of
God's truth, and runs upon the thick bosses of the Almighty's
buckler. Here lies the fatal weakness of the philosophy, which is substi
tuted for Christ ; its violation ofthe very conditions of truth. The
great principle of all true philosophy, whether of matter or mind,
is, that it be based on, or governed in its conclusions by, the testi
monies of fact. And such has been the character of all philoso
phy that has borne fruit, contra-distinguishing the best modern
systems from the groundless and hypothetical character of much
in the ancient schools. But the philosophy that slights or would
shoulder aside Christianity, is surely not of this solid and experi
mental kind. It shuts its eyes to, or disparages the noblest pas
sage of all history. It discredits or allows no just weight to the
finest piece of evidence, in which the most remarkable signs of
verity are all joined, and as it were, condensed. It suspects or
contemns the most glorious facts that have ever transpired be
neath the sun. It does not deserve the name of philosophy in
this age of the world, for it violates the spirit of that whose name
it bears, and, like the false herald of the era of chivalry, should
have its forged insignia of office torn away. The Christian phil-
' osopher may like to reason and speculate, as well as any other
man ; may have a mind as fertile as any in invention and con
jecture, but he turns not his back on the marvellous displays of
Divine power and love, to pursue any airy, aimless flight. Pa
tiently as any will he hunt out the hidden trail of analogies
through all material and spiritual things, but he will never substi
tute it for Christ, the open way. He bows his head before the
amazing demonstrations of God through his Son, while the philos
opher, who assumes to take a higher position in the ranks of wis
dom, passes by, as though nothing had taken place.
The philosophy which excludes Christ, or only receives Him
divested of his authority, mighty works, and moral perfection, may
affirm itself to be religious, but it prefers what it calls Absolute
religion, to any special and defined system, like Christianity;
which is as though one should prefer, for a habitation, the earth,
when it was " without form and void, and darkness covered the
face of the deep," to the well-finished and perfected world. To

14
the human mind there is a vague, shifting, shapeless quality
about this so styled Absolute religion, which must render it of
very little practical worth to the majority of men, however a few
may pretend to perform the feat of grasping its immense and misty
proportions. But the philosophy substituted for Christ, changes
with Protean facility its own form. Sometimes it is a negative
system, which could not stand at all, but by bracing itself against
the Christianity it assails ; and sometimes it is a positive spiritual
ism wliich, in its own conceit, oversees Christianity, borrows from
it what it deems good, and applies to it among the other religions
of the world, the eclecticism of some Christian believers in regard
to the various sects'. Sometimes it dwells among abstractions,
and rears its fabric on the categories ofthe pure reason, and some
times ranges with blithe sensations and a kindling eye, in a sort of
nature-worship, through all the wonder and beauty of the actual
world, preferring the mystic suggestions and pregnant silence of
God's works, to the clear and eloquent distinctness of His word.
I wish not to deny that there is a charm of appearance, a gener
osity of spirit, a power of genius, and not seldom a brilliant gleam
of truth about some of its manifestations. But, in any of its forms,
to be substituted for Christ as the way of human salvation, it is a
mistake and miserable failure. It cannot act with his redeeming
power on the highest or the lowliest minds. It has never moved
to any such undertakings or sacrifices as he has inspired in the
soul. It has not been the parent, hke him, of all good institu
tions, and of every holy cause. It has not renewed the face of
the earth as he has done, nor regenerated the individual heart, as
he is forever doing. Weighed in the balances of any such com
parison, it is found wanting. Even true philosophy cannot do the
work of faith ; and false philosophy, will do only more thoroughly,
that of skepticism.
To every believer in Christ, who receives him in the character
in which he presents himself, as speaking in God's name, his
teachings must be as segments from the sphere of Eternal truth,
and therefore corresponding with all truth, however discovered or
made known ; while he, himself, is regarded as the Truth alive,
as a living and spiritual agency, to subdue the soul of man to
himself, and thus be the only perfect way of. salvation.
But why canvass long the claims of Philosophy to be a substi-

15
tute for Christianity ? What tangible and really settled principles
of its own, has the independent and self-sufficing philosophy to
show, hke the revelations in Christ, of God's paternal character,
of man's kindred relationship with his Maker, and destination to
an immortal existence, of the conditions of forgiveness to the sin
ner, hope to the despairing, comfort to the son-owing, and final
justice to the 'wronged.
Indefinite and unsatisfying indeed are its best teachings when
set over against the Divine oracles, while it is hard to tell whether
the Pantheism or the Atheism, upon which some of its most dis
tinguished votaries have finally determined, and from which even
by the most masterly abilities for positive science some have not
been saved, tend more to the corruption of human virtue. Phil
osophy cannot be substituted for Christ as the way of salvation.
Should it be so substituted extensively among men, it would not
be long before, not only the powers of the world to come would be
scorned as a superstitious delusion, but the landmarks of order and
decency on earth removed, and the flood of sensuality and vice
make new inroads over all the embankments of human happiness.
In view of the possibility of such a result,. we can weledme even
that reaction from extreme speculation, by which some, wearied
with losing all foothold and dangling in the air, have gone back to
the broadest, if not the firmest, of all platforms of authority in the
Romish church.
But we are in danger of making one other substitution for
Christ, — that of Reform. It is one of the most honorable marks
ofthe present age, that it is an age of reform. Never before were
all the evil customs, institutions, of society, called to so terrible an
account. As it were, a travelling bar of judgment overtakes every
injurious, oppressive class in the community, summoning it cot
lectively or individually, to the trial of whatever force of public
opinion can be roused or social conscience concentrated for its con
demnation and doom. The spirit of change, like a universal spy,
overlooks nothing that can be shown capable of improvement.
This reforming tendency is the fruit of our religion, and, while
connected with, nursed and nurtured by the Christianity that gave
it birth, only a tendency to good. But not so, when separated
from Christianity, and substituted for Christ. Not so, when
divorced from his Spirit, and allied with the. unholy passions of the

16
world ; taking anger, scorn, bitterness, malice, and all uncharita-
bleness, for its companions. Not so, when the reformer withdraws
from, and mocks at the observance of Christian institutions, and
denounces the Church, and the Bible itself, as obstacles in his
career. Not so, when a fanatic and miscreating energy on the one
hand, joins with a hard insensibility on the other, to produce the
monstrous phenomenon of an apparent division and unfriendly
antagonism between the very sentiments of religion and philan
thropy ; the stream cut off from its fountain, the child in unnatu
ral war with its parent. The love of man can flow deep and pure
from no other source, than the love of God ; and lasting and
thorough beneficence have no other parentage than sincere and
lofty devotion. In Christ, the religious and benevolent sentiments
exist, each perfect, and both inseparably united. In his charac
ter, overflowing charity to man gushes out from the pure, solitary
heights of communion with God. But how often the zealot of a
good cause shows no such devout and humbly adoring soul ! And
this evil comes not, as sometimes appears fo be thought, from the
overgrowth of his philanthropy, which has left no room for his
religion. Religion and philantliropy cannot thus press upon or
exclude each other. All real increase of either, is common to both.
But it comes, when philanthropy, in its own nature, spiritual and
unconfined, has been limited to some single point, or pledged itself
to one exclusive course towards that point, and then debased its
own quality with dislike and opposition to the best and holiest
men, whose sense of right will not let them go along with it in
the same way. It comes, when a special object, or a special
measure, is held dearer than the whole scope and temper of the
Gospel. It comes when the favorite reform has been substituted
for Chiist. But a short step after this conducts to the loss alike of
brotherly kindness and filial devotion. Christ includes and fosters
all true reforms. His Church has room within its walls for the
growth of all. But no one Under him can be exclusive, as though
it were the only worthy end of human exertion. No one has a
right to overrun the whole garden of the Lord's husbandry. They
should all be cultivated on Christian ground, with Christian hands,
and then no sour or bitter fruit will grow upon their branches, but
only that which is for the nourishment and healing of the world.
And when any pf them, without this Christian culture, is sown on

17
the wild soil of human nature, though some of the seed of God's
own word were stolen for the planting, the quality of the product
will continually degenerate. The large and loving spirit of the
Gospel is the only antidote to that narrowness, dogmatism, and
gall, which are apt to be engendered in the hot and single pursuit
of any outward object, however great and noble. Only that re
plenishing of the inward fruits of pure affection, which comes
best from the mind of Christ, and that rein upon the passions,
which his hand most effectually imposes, can save the devotee of
the highest enterprise from hatred against his opponents, and, in
the excitement of his ardor, restrain every intemperate movement,
and prevent the boiling up of any drop of acid from the bottom of
his heart.
The philanthropist, with his particular outward aim, most of all
men, needs to bathe in the broad element of Christian love and
piety, which girdles in its embrace every corner and continent of
the world, so that he may pursue his special end with a sweet,
sympathetic good-nature, which no contagion of ill-will against
even an adversary, can disturb or disease. Oh, we want no fewer
reformers, — God forbid, — but more generous, catholic, Christian
reformers, who shall speak against all the evil in the world, the
unanswerable words of truth and goodness. In short, — for to this
point of the text, every rational consideration tends, — we want
Christ himself as the way.
He has been called the great Reformer. But his method is to
reform, by regenerating, mankind. Men cannot be saved by any
undertaking, however great, of outward reform, but by being born
again, — inwardly renewed in the spirit of their minds, — and hav
ing the very germs of iniquity drawn out of their hearts. The
reformer may go round with his axe, and cut down some of the
corrupt trees, but they will grow up again, fresh and lively from
the old stock, till the axe is laid— not at the trunk— but the root.
This radical process is longer, but alone effectual. The reformer
seems, not seldom, to think the evils that afflict society can be
struck off, as it were at a blow of immediate abolition. He might
as well attempt to strike off the primeval forests, or the granite
bound hills. These evils are rooted in the human heart, some of
the roots running, it may be, mto his own heart. Alas, to the
observation of Heaven, are we not all, more or less, in the same
3

18

plight, all suffering with the same chronic .disease of sin ? Wlio
shall deliver us, and help us to deliver our fellow-creatures, but
Christ the regenerator of the human soul, and so the Reformer of
the world ! He is the way. Reform is but the effect of which he
is the mighty cause, and his disciples the instruments carrying on
the work, not with the clamors of an outraged and frantic con
science, but with a sober benevolence, with a zeal supplied from
no seething passion, but from the current of a loving heart, with
an activity running in various directions, but, like the lines of the
mathematical problem, producing one resultant of right.
This criticism upon Reform implies no general disparagement
of the importance of the reformer's work, and nothing but un
qualified honor of it when conducted after the way of Christ. In
view of the pressing occasion for reform everywhere existing in
human life, we should feel inclined to pardon even the reformer's
excesses, were they not made inexcusable to his own better judg
ment, by weakening his arm, reducing the amount, and impairing
the quality of his work. 'And, with all his faults, considering the
nobility of his aim, the frequent disinterestedness of his labors,
and the noble exceptions to the harsh and unjust manner he has
too much assumed, if, in fixing his true place, there be any class
that, to finish the category, we must add to the goodly fellowship of
the prophets, the Messed company ofthe apostles, and the noble army of
the martyrs, it is the righteous band of ihe reformers. Especially
will they deserve this rank and title, when they purge away
every remainder of acrimony and bigotry from their spirit, and
clothe themselves with the internal power ofthe Gospel to accom
plish their external designs. Let them leam from Christianity a
profounder understanding of the nature ofthe evil to be removed,
learn, as all of them have not as yet clearly done, that man is not
the mere victim of circumstances, or necessary prey of tempta
tion, or helpless subject of wrong, but himself a sinner, and by sin
his own chief traitor, and worst foe. Let them not look to any
change in outward relations or re-organization of so'cietf as the
cure of human woes, any farther than it shall proceed from the
infusion of a better sentiment and the establishing of higher prin
ciples in the individual and the common heart. Carrying on then-
various plans more by the method of Christ, they may hope to
check the dominion of iniquity, not only by breaking down its

19
grosser forms, but by overcoming its moral causes, toiling not only
that the injured may be righted, but for that, if possible, still nobler
end, that there may be none to injure ; that men may be raised
above not only intemperate indulgence, but intemperate desire ;
that the sword not only be sheathed, but beaten into the plough
share ; that the rod not be wrested with violence from the oppress
or's hand, but fall at the bidding of his own soul, and the long
empire of selfishness and hate give way to the Kingdom of holi
ness and love. Such is the glorious result that glimmers from afar
upon the vision, through no path of human opening, but from the
end of that way which is Christ. Let us all devote ourselves to
hasten the fulfilment. Let us pray Gocl by His Son to hasten it.
Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly !
Thus we see everything wrongfully substituted for Christ, right
fully embraced beneath him, as his own creation or lawful domain.
There is nothing contracted or ungenerously exclusive in him,
this broad survey of the main courses of the human mind not
carrying us off the premises of our Master. The Church, in every
just appeal to the sense and fancy and social sympathy of man, is
his. The faculty or principle of Faith in the soul is drawn by his
works and teachings to its highest objects and noblest exercise.
Philosphy, led into the region of truth along the road of his verit
able revelations, starts into the track of all harmoniously related
truth. And Reform, corrected by him of its narrow and superfi
cial violence, probes* the depths of the moral maladies it would
cure. All the powers of our spiritual nature receive from him
then right direction, stimulus, and growth.
Let him be to us, brethren, the way. There is no other way so
good for us pilgrims on the earth to travel in. Let us thank God
for the way His own hand hath made, and that we are not left to
make a doubtful or devious way for ourselves. Let us be too
grateful, and too progressive in the divine direction, ever to think
of substituting any other for it. Do we not need it, as it actually
lies before us ? With temptation opening its alluring paths, and
sin drawing us astray, and sorrow dragging us to the ground, and
doubt involving us in its confused tracks, and death digging the
pit where all earthly roads converge and terminate together, do
we not need this highway, which leads to pardon and consolation,

20
which is lined with perpetual repairs of strength, and which lays
its even and unbroken courseacross the dark valley of the grave ?
This way verily ends not in the tomb, for it passes through the
lighted sepulchre of Jesus, where the shining angels sat, and by
the enduring monuments of his resurrection, which time has not
wasted nor the hand of violence shook, till it enters into the path
of his ascension. It will conduct all his followers to his own high,
immortal home.
To this way, my friends of this society, does not a finger from
this consecrated desk seem ever to point, and a voice from behind
to say, "Walk ye in it." Do not moving tones comeback, as
though these walls had not yet lost the echoes waked by the per
suasive lips of that venerated man, whose memory hallows this
spot, and whose name the Church rejoices to speak with honor ?
And is not Christ the way to which your steps have been led by a
still living and well-loved guide? It is the prayer of one, who
can pray as fervently as any for good issues to the relation this
day sealed, that Christ may be shown as the way by him who
now succeeds to their work.

EIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP;

REV. C. T. THAYER.

RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP.

Standing as you now do at the threshold of high responsibility —
about to enter on important and sacred duties, you naturally look
for sympathy as well as counsel ; you want not only the guiding-
hand, but also that which, with a cordial pressure, shall give
friendly assurance. This service has both a natural and a scrip
tural foundation. It springs from the occasion itself, while it has
the sanction of apostolical and ecclesiastical usage. None could
have been assigned me, which I should perform more cheerfully
and with a full heart. The minister at this altar and of this people
I shall ever regard as more than in a professional sense, a brother.
Accept, then, this hand as a token of Christian fellowship from
your brethren and friends — as an earnest of their readiness to
counsel, comfort and aid you in all your future course, and espe
cially in the work to which you are now consecrated. We wel
come you to its labors, than which none on earth can be higher or
worthier. Welcome to its still and delightful studies, by which
your own mind may be enriched, at the same time that it is pre
pared to enlighten and improve others. Welcome to its pleasures —
to that peculiar and sweetest pleasure arising from the conscious
ness of at once getting and doing good. Welcome to its trials, of
which we may without undignified complaint assert it has its full
share — that they are neither few nor small, but wliich may lead to
glorious issues — may be made to quicken, strengthen, refine, ele
vate. Welcome to its rewards, more valuable than all the world
beside, pure and lasting as heaven.
It is no narrow or exclusive fellowship, which we hereby pledge
to you. Our best wishes for your usefulness, and our ready co-

24
operation, will attend you whithersoever you follow the great
Master. We should greatly dread to see all minds, and those of
the ministers of religion by no means least, cast in the same
mould, thinking the same thoughts, feeling and acting alike.
Slavish deference to opinion, custom, human authority, is always
degrading and injurious. Much was comprehended in the daily
prayer of a good man — that he and his might be upright toward
God and downright to men. Such a petition might well be offered
by many, who are wanting in the spirit of just self-reliance, of
impartial inquiry, of free action. Still, we desire that you may
cherish and enjoy, as far as consistently with moral independence
you can, the fellowship of all Christians, whether of like or differ
ing faith. Thus may you attain the blessed distinction of being a
friend of peace. Tims you strengthen the cause of the Prince of
peace, and help to rescue it from the evils of bitter contention
among its professed friends. " It is written," (says Milton, with
admirable ¦ practical wisdom,) "that the coat of our Saviour was
without seam ; whence some would infer that there should be no
division in the church of Christ. It should be so indeed ; yet
seams in the same cloth neither hurt the garment, nor misbecome
it ; and not only seams, but schisms will be, while men are falli
ble ; — but if they who dissent in matters not essential to behef,
while the common adversary is in the field, shall stand jarring and
pelting atone another, they will be soon routed and subdued."
Above all, may your fellowship be with the Father and the
spirit of his Son. There will be times in every individual's expe
rience, and in the Christian minister's as much perhaps as any, in
which no other mortal can know, as the heart itself does, its own
bitterness — its conflicts, its doubts, its darkness and sorrows.
*c Oh, when we look for sympathy in vain,
Let us look deep into the secret springs
Of our own hearts. There let us wake up
The tones of meditation, and eommune
With the great spirit that is stirred within,
And seek companionship beyond all else
That is allowed to mortals."
I recognize the evident blessing of God in the harmony and
many happy circumstances attendant on the commencement of
your ministry here. In congratulating you on these and express
ing our warm interest in the relation you are to sustain to this

25
people, I cannot suppress the thought, that I am not speaking for
the living alone. Could the stillness of yonder tomb be broken,
the voice there hushed to its last silence, which long spake within
these walls, would repeat with redoubled earnestness om- welcome.
He, whose it was, would bid you welcome to this home of his
affections, to this temple he loved, to this altar at which he de
lighted to serve, to this peaceful and beautiful valley to which he
was bound by strongest ties and even a romantic attachment;
amid the scenes of which he moved for nearly half a century,
spending in them his earlier and later strength, feeling that in.
them was an abundant sphere for honorable and useful exertion,
and fondly desiring here at length to repose from his earthly labors.
If there be joy in the world of spirits at the happy events of earth,
I feel assured that he rejoices with us in the bright prospects of
this day, and mingles his prayers with ours, that your ministry
here may be long, most prospered and happy, and you be gathered
at last to the faithful who shall " clasp inseparable hands" hi never-
ending progress and bliss.
Before closing, I would tender to this beloved Church and Soci
ety the expression of our fellowship, our sympathy and joy. When
your late pastor, on whom in the outset your feelings and views
had with remarkable unanimity centred, and in whose light, dur
ing the season it was continued to you, you so much rejoiced, was
arrested by the providence of God in the midst of his usefulness,
and his strength made to fail by the way — ere it was noon, you
were called to severe disappointment and had our sincerest sym
pathy. But the same , providence has ordained that light should
spring out of darkness, and a joyful morning succeed the weeping
night. We feel, I must confess, mingled pleasure and pride at
the honorable manner in which you have passed through this trial,
and with renewed unanimity fixed on a successor to the sacred
office among you. It is our fervent desire and prayer, that the
best hopes of this hour may be fulfilled. Whetlier we come and
see you, or be absent, may we hear of your affairs, that ye stand
fast in one spirit, with one mind, striving together for the faith of
the Gospel.

C H A EG E;

REV. ALONZO HILL.

CHARGE.

My Brother, — If I were to collect and repeat all the warnings
and directions for the conduct of the ministry to be found scat
tered through the New Testament, I do not know that I could
better perform this service to which you have invited me. They
contain your best manual of duty and are worthy of your frequent
and careful study. Among these there is one which I desire may
linger in your memory. It fell from the lips of the great Teacher.
He uttered it at a time when it could not fail to have an indelible
impression on the minds of the first preachers of his religion. He
was about to send them out to proclaim his truth. They were to
go with unaffected simplicity and godly sincerity, without purse or
serip or array of apparel, and with only shoes on the feet and the
pilgrim's staff for the journey. " And into whatsoever city or
town ye shall enter, look around and see who is worthy of your
confidence, and there abide until ye go thence— there stay until
the providence of God call you away." My Brother, on the same
great mission, in the service of the same great Master, you have
entered this town. This people have given you the warmest wel
come ; you have received from them the highest marks of their
confidence and affection. You have been ordained as their
religious teacher and friend. Here, then, stay,— come with the
purpose, lay your plans, enter upon your duties with the expecta
tion of staying here, God helping you and them, until your earthly
work is over and you go to your reward.J; Here you have pitched
your tent, and here let it stand through summer's heat and win
ter's cold. Look upon these hills and fields and meadows ; this is
the scene of your fife-long labors— resolve here to stand in your lot

30
while the glory of the year shall come and go, and the leaves
again spring and fall and the flowers blossom and decay. Cast
your eyes around this ancient and venerable church ; receiving your
ordination vows this day, let it echo with the last sounds of your
voice, let it witness your earliest and latest struggles in the cause
of your Master. Regard for a moment the face of your congre
gation ; of one by one of its aged members you are to smooth the
passage to the grave, one by one of its more youthful portions you
are to send forth prepared for the world's dread conflicts, trained
by your hand, bearing the marks of your fidelity. For life and for
death, consecrate yourself to this people. Their highest interests
are given you in charge ; count that you have lived as these inter
ests have been promoted. I know what I am saying ; I know
there_are circumstances in which it is better for minister and peo
ple to separate. I know there are sacred calls of duty when the
relation must be severed, though it tear and lacerate the very
heart-strings. But this restless spirit of change, this indifference
to ties once deemed among the most sacred, is the bane of the
ministry and is robbing it of its strength. Shun, I charge you, this
error. Reverence the sacredness ofthe bond which now connects
you with this people. Be assured, they will not be hasty to seek
causes of separation. Look at the annals of their church. They
point to them with pride, for the length and harmony of the min
isterial relation. In their graveyards they will show you the mon
uments of thehr successive pastors, each resting after a long day of
labor; each reposing in the midst of the generation whom he
loved and served. Resolve, then, to establish yourself in their
affections, and with the blessing of God, to cement your relation by
years of faithful labors. Seek no higher honor than to be the
long-tried and venerated pastor, and to sleep the sleep of death at
last in the midst of them.
But for the intimacy and permanency of this relation, this oc
casion would be idle — they impart to it its chief solemnity, and
give weight to the words which now find utterance. Let me
speak to you of the means by which you may obtain a healthful
and permanent influence in this place — for then I assist you to do
the great work of the ministry. I counsel and charge you then,
first of all things, to have respect to the spirit which you main
tain. If you would enjoy a successful and happy ministry, your

31
one act of self-consecration must be the act of your whole life.
There are temptations, invading the silence of the sanctuary —
mingling in the most sacred duties— besetting the heart of the
minister, of religion, as subtle as they are fatal. Beware of their
insinuating influence on your ministerial character. Shun, as the
bane of your success, the temptation to mental and spiritual sloth.
Beware, I warn you, lest frequently interrupted, you relax your
mental discipline — lest familiar with your duties, they become
formal — lest compelled to go the round of official service, the heart
lose the first freshness of devotion and its best affections by the
constant demand upon them be worn out. Enough now may be
numbered — the first days of whose ministry have been their best
days — the living, melancholy monuments of mental sloth and spirit
ual declension. I charge you, my brother, resist the all surround
ing temptation ; for your own sake, for the happiness and useful
ness of your ministry, for the sake of this people whose welfare is
bound up in your fidelity, do not stop here. Go on from this mo
ment, day by day, increasing in wisdom and mental strength and
in Christian graces. Now you are fixed in one spot and are to
commune with the same minds week after week and year after
year, to relax your mental efforts, to forego your spiritual exer
cises and rely on your past acquisitions, would be your ruin. Now,
if never before, study — lay down some plan of study and pursue it.
Think, from the habit of thinking, and persevere in it. Watch and
pray, and be constant in watching and prayer. I can give you no
better nor more useful advice than to be faithful in a generous self-
culture. Let all your private habits be so arranged as shall con
duce most to your intellectual and spiritual improvement. Let
your early morning hours be secretly devoted ; in your noon-day
rides carry with you habits of thoughtful meditation ; and when
you retire at eventide, weary and worn it may be, give no sleep
to your eyes nor slumber to your eyelids, until you have once more
taken an account of the responsibilities and duties of the day.
This unceasing, unwearied watchfulness and activity I would
urge were your occupation any other ; how essential in one who
has in charge the spiritual welfare of a community like this !
And yet, my brother, with all this devotion^ be not restless in
your activity ; be not overburdened with anxiety ; yield not to the
spirit of despondency. There is no way in which you can more

32
effectually impair your own energies and weaken the confidence
of your people. The time will come after the excitements attending
a new ministry havp in some measure subsided, when the burthen
of duty will press heavily and when, having no longer the sym
pathy of the hour to cheer you, you would gladly cast it from
you and escape a responsibility to great for man to bear. But,, my
brother, be calm. Possess your soul in tranquillity and cheerful
ness. Remember others before you have felt this burthen and
borne it,; — have felt it almost beyond endurance, — have struggled
and persevered, and finally triumphed. And, let me tell you,
nothing will aid you more certainly in this result, than a serene,
trustful spirit, — toiling on through the long night though you
have caught nothing, as well as through the bright day amid
many tokens of divine favor. Calmness is the attribute of ear
nestness and power. God works in silence,— and through his
mighty agents showers blessings without number in solemn mag
nificence and without a word. Go then to your work with calm
ness and tranquillity ; pursue it with a self-sacrificing, yet hopeful
spirit ; with faith and with prayer, under a solemn sense of
responsibility and a cheerful reliance on God.
And what is your work ? It is to preach ; preach the Word — ^
and to preach it in all its grandeur and. simpficity and purity, means.
a g#eat deal. I charge you do this with your best energies. Letthis
pulpit be, your throne. Have no higher_ambiJion than to occupy
it faithfully and well. ( Let it be the seat of your piety and wis
dom and power. For, let me tell you, that the place in which our
venerable father stood for nearly half a century, and where our
aecomplished brother, but just now spoke with such fervor of devo
tion (alas, too soon compelled to relinquish it,) is no mean onet
nor will it cost small labor to fill it well. Enter it from Sabbath
to Sabbath with such fulness of preparation as if you were never
to enter it again. Bring to it your purest, best, and most matured
and stirring thoughts. Bring to it the choicest , treasures which
you may collect from the wide volumes of nature, and providence*
and revelation, and your own inward experience. Bring to it a
mind filled with the truth of God, sanctified by watching and
prayer and a holy endeavor, and a heart kindled with the holiest
spirit and longing to give utterance to its burning convictions ; —
and when you look around upon the face of this congregation, how

33
shall you fail to be understood and felt? For, what will you see
here and in all om- churches ? Men and women gathered from all
the walks and ways of fife, from places of business and domestic
abodes and halls of pleasure and chambers of grief, with their
burthens of care and temptation and wo ,— youth, passionate and
impetuous and encompassed with perils ; and children in confiding
simplicity and innocence ;— men, women and children, spiritual
beings, yet how many of them wedded to the earth— made for a
sublime destiny, yet indifferent to the great concern— formed for
unalloyed happiness, yet casting from them the cup— all hurrying,
while you gaze, to their account ; yet pausing for a brief space
around the pulpit to listen before they go, to words of instruction
and warning from the religious teacher. With what trembling
solicitude should he, who stands here in the name of God and
Christ and human happiness, look upon such a spectacle! In
what tones of gentle persuasion and irresistible power ought he to
utter his voice ! With what plainness and freedom and earnest
ness should he speak ! My brother, regard your congregation in
this light, and your preaching can never be a dull, formal business.
You will desire and expect palpable results ; and, however insuf
ficient of yourself, you will not be slow to learn the secret whereby
to soothe the throbbing heart and warm the wintry bosom. It
was only a wand with which the man of God struck the rock,
and the refreshing waters gushed out. The simple truth of God
is the instrument to loosen the earth-bound spirit and cause the
heavenly affections to flow. A word once stilled the tempestuous
sea ; these words, life, death, retribution, eternity, are the means
to stay the streams of worldfiness that are rushing in impetuous
torrents over the human soul. Speak out that which is within
you, my brother — speak it earnestly, yet kindly, as from the
deepest conviction, and you may be assured you shall not speak
in vain. Speak it freely too, for I hold there is not a truth which
ought to be spoken that may not be ; and which, if uttered in
tones of sympathy and kindness, will not be patiently heard and
inspire a hearty respect for the preacher.
But your public duties are not all to be done within these walls.
You must be much abroad among your people. In respect to
your pastoral relations, I have this one admonition to give. As
you go from house to house, as you receive your people within
5

34
your own dwelling, wherever you may meet them, I charge you
not to neglect your opportunities of usefulness. If I do not mis
take their dispositions, they will wish you to be much with them,
and expect you to maintain the character of a friend and brother.
The doors of your parishioners will be thrown widely open, and
you will find a cordial welcome at their fireside, and their board.
Confide in them, my brother, if you would win them. Once ad
mitted to the intimacy of affection, you will become associated
with all that is endearing and momentous in human experience,
share in the joys and sorrows which the heart only knoweth, and
with which the stranger cannot intermeddle. Present with your
benediction at the formation of each little community, you will
take a part in all its revolutions, and all its heart-thrilling history
will be written on the pages of your experience. You will be
there when the candle of the Lord shines upon their dwelling and
the song of praise is heard within the gates, — in the unbroken
circle of fathers, mothers, and their children. There, too, you will
be when life's changes shall come, — when this community shall
be rent, its members torn asunder, and each individual alone shall
drink of his own bitter cup, — when the strong shall grow weak,
the beautiful in their high places shall fall and the countenances
of this people shall be changed ; and in their woes their hearts
shall be laid all bare and bleeding before you. What rare oppor
tunities does the minister enjoy of touching the inmost sanctuaries
of the human soul and the deepest springs of human conduct.
Now I charge you, my brother, before God, the final Judge, faith
fully improve these seasons, so favorable for the profoundest moral
impression. When you descend from this pulpit think not to cast
off a shred of the ministerial robe, or leave behind a particle of
the minister's earnest and devoted spirit. Henceforth, till the tie
wliich now unites you shall be severed, you are to have no sepa
rate interests from the society. What they feel and endure,
rejoicing or sorrowing, members of your own larger family, you
must feel and endure with them. Go among them, then, as Jesus
went in Galilee, and whether you sit with them in the bloom of
health, or pray with them amid the slow wastings of sickness,
whether you mingle with the young while the dew of youth is
yet fresh upon them, with the active in the midst of their great
responsibilities, or with the aged who wait and watch for the last

35
great change, — at home, hi the shop and by the way, at the festal
board and at the tomb, let the earnest, calm, cheerful, glad spirit
of religion light up your countenance, pervade your language and
control your manners. Let your whole intercourse be marked by
frankness, honesty and fidelity. Let no earthly temptation allure
you for a moment into a forgetfulness of yourself or your responsi
bilities. Watch for souls as one who must give an account. De
ceive no one by random remarks ; mislead no one by silence when
you ought to speak ; forget no one whom you ought to remember ;
neglect no one whose joys or whose griefs you ought to share.
Be every where, hke the religion which you preach, the warm,
devoted, sympathizing friend of all.
My brother, there are many other things which my heart
prompts me to say to you ; but I cannot now, — I must not tax
your strength longer. If my prayers can prevail, — and the prayers
of those you love, of earlier and later friends, you will establish
yourself in the hearts of this people and find in this favored spot
a lasting home. Lowly laying your heart upon this altar, entering
upon your work with a single and undivided affection, I see the
selectest influences of Heaven attend your labors. I see you ful
filling the highest expectations of this congregation, and new
hopes, new interests, new sympathies springing up within and
around you. Bearing along the ark of the Lord, I see the dark
trains of moral evils, fear and agony and remorse retiring before
you, — life sweetened, death disarmed, Heaven opened to those who
hear. I see you conducted in safety to the end of a long and use
ful ministry, — your work closed amid the tears of a grateful peo
ple, — your commission sealed, — your reward great. But I am
checked in these pleasing anticipations, for I remember that
duties only are ours ; events are determined by a higher wisdom.
Be diligent, then, and devoted in your duties, for you know not
what a day may bring forth. Be faithful unto death, and you
shall receive the crown of life.

APPENDIX.

APPENDIX. *

" From humble tenements around
Came up the pensive train,
And in the church a blessing found,
Which filled their homes again —
They live with God, their homes are dust ;
But here their children pray,
And, in this fleeting lifetime, trust
To find the narrow way."

[From the Century Sermon by Rev. Timothy Harrington, May 28, 1703.]
" In the year 1645,f Sholan, alias Shaumauw, Proprietor of Nashawogg,
and Sachem of the Nashawas, who lived at Waushacum, informed Mr.
Thomas King, of Watertown, (with whom he traded and for whom he had
a considerable friendship,) of the said tract of land as well accommodated
for a Plantation, desiring that the English would come and set down by him.
" Accordingly Mr. King, Mr. John Piescott, and others, procured of said
Sholan, a Deed of said Nashawogg, ten miles in length, and eight in breadth ;
with these restrictions, that the English should not molest the Indians in
their hunting, fishing, or usual planting places, — And the General Court con
firmed the Deed.
" On this, the Associates purchased of Mr. King all his Interest in the
Premises ; and entered into mutual obligation by a certain term to appear on
the spot, to begin and carry on the Plantation and contracted with a Preacher
to go on with them.
* Both Mr. Harrington's Century Sermon and the "Historical Sketch" of Lancas
ter, by Joseph Willard, Esq. , being nearly out of print, a few ecclesiastical memoranda
are gathered into an Appendix for the use of the parish.
t Lancaster was the tenth town incorporated in the county of Middlesex, and pre
cedes, by many years, every town now within the limits ofthe county of Worcester.
Gov. Winthrop diners from Mr. Harrington as to the year when the purchase was
made, and says 1643.

40
" Having thus concerted affairs, they sent up divers persons, (to whom
they had given Lots,) to perform divers things, at the common expense ofthe
Proprietors, before the time of their general appearance ; and these were the
first inhabitants.
" But before the time for their general appearance ; their Minister, to whom
they had committed their mutual obligation," (whether by reason of his own
aversion to the place, or by the instigation of such ofthe Proprietors as were
unwilling to come up themselves, is uncertain,) forsook them, carrying with
him said mutual obligation.* And in consequence of this, all the associates,
except Mr. Prescott, refused to fulfil their contract, but yet held their Interest.
So that for the space of seven years, very little was done to forward the
plantation. — But at length some ofthe rest being willing to engage more
heartily in the affair, — on the 18th of May, 1653, there being Nine Families
in the place, tbey petitioned the General Court for an Incorporation, and
obtained it by the name of Lancaster.
" From the year 1654, Mr. Rowlandson preached among them, until the
14th of April 1658 ; at which time they invited him to settle in the Work of the
Ministry among them ; and he accepted their Invitation, and probably was
ordained the same year.
" The town was in Peace and Prosperity for the space of twenty-two years
from its Incorporation. — And the Indians were very serviceable to the inhabi
tants, by supplying them with such Corn and wild meat as they stood in need
of; and that on very moderate terms.
" But on the 24th of June 1675, Philip, Sachem of Pocanoket, com
monly called King Philip, rebelled against the English, and began a very
bloody and destructive War.
" And on the 22d of August following, eight persons, in different parts of
the town were killed.
" And as the Sachems of the Narragansett country joined with Philip in
his Rebellion ; so after the destruction of Canonicus'-Port, commonly called
the Narragansett-Port, by the forces of the united colonies, on the 19th of
December, 1675. — The Indians leaving that part of the country, moved
toward Wachusett, and meeting with the Nipnets and Nashawas, in their
* Winthrop gives the following account : " 3d mo. (May) 1644. Many of Water-
town, and other towns, joined in the plantation at Nashaway ; and having called a
young man, a universal (qu. university 1) scholar, one Mr. Norcroff (qu. Norcross "!)
to be their minister, seven of them, who were no members of any churches, were desir
ous to gather into a church estate ; but the magistrates and elders, advised them first
to go and build them habitations, &c. And then to take some that were members of
other churches, with the consent of such churches, as had formerly been done, and so
proceed orderly. But the persons interested in this plantation, being most of them
poor men, and some of them corrupt in judgment, and others profane, it went on very
slowly, so that in two years, they had not three houses built there, and he whom they
had called to be their minister, left them for their delays."

41
march, persuaded them to take up arms against the English ; and after this
combination, part turned back towards Plymouth Colony, burning and destroy
ing as they went along.
" But Philip, with the rest, confessed by themselves after the peace to be
fifteen hundred, marched for Lancaster, in which there were then above fifty
families— And on the 10th Of February, 1676, assaulted in five distinct
bodies and places, burning most ofthe unfortified houses, and killing several
persons. " However, they destroyed no Garrison, but that belonging to the Rev.
Mr. Rowlandson ; in which, there, were soldiers and inhabitants to the num
ber of forty-two. And as there was no fdrtification on the back of the house,
and the English being unable to ply their shot on that side ; the enemy hav
ing loaded a Cart with combustible matter, pushed it flaming to the house ;
and thus being reduced to the sad necessity of either perishing in the flames,
or resigning themselves to the Savages, they surrendered.
" On this, the Men, except one who made his escape, were slain, or re
served for torture, and about twenty of the Women and Children were carried
into Captivity ; among which was the Consort of the Rev. Mr. Rowlandson ;
an account of whose Captivity, Sufferings and Return, written by her own
hand, you have doubtless many of you seen in Print.
"Mr. Rowlandson was then at Boston soliciting the Governor and Council
for more soldiers for the protection of the place — And on his return, met the
heavy news, which he received with a becoming submission and magnanimity.
" About six weeks after the assault of the town, it being judged untena
ble under the then present circumstances, both of that and the country ; the
remainder of the inhabitants, except one who was killed that very day by
the enemy, drew off under a guard of Horse and Foot. — And immediately on
this desertion of the place, every building that remained, save two, were
reduced to ashes. And in this state of Desolation the town continued for
about four years."
" The first minister of Lancaster," says Mr. Willard, " commenced bache
lor at Cambridge in 1652, with all the honors of his class, as he appears to
have constituted the whole of the class of that year. Cotton Mather calls
him an author of ' lesser composures.'* What these were, I venture to say,
after diligent inquiry, is not to be discovered. Mr. Rowlandson began to preach
in Lancaster as early as the summer or fall of 1654. * * * * The commis
sioners, at their meeting, April 25, 1656, directed the town to pay Mr. Row-
* " Not only have we had a Danforth, a Nathaniel Mather, a Hoar, a Rowlandson,
&c, the authors of lesser composures out of their modest studies, even as with a
Cesarean section, forced into light ; but also we have had an Hubbard, an Isaac
Chauncey, a Willard, a Stoddard, the authors of larger composures." — Magnalia, book
4, part I. 6

42
landson ' fifty pounds by the year,' taking ' wheat at sixpence per bushel,'
under the usual price, ' and as God shall enlarge their estates, so shall they
enlarge therein answerably,' &c. In September, 1657, the Commissioners
ordered the selectmen ' to take care for the due encouragement of Master
Rowlandson, and also for the erecting a meeting house,' &c. In compliance
with these orders, a house for worship was erected soon after. A town
meeting was held in it in June, 1658. It was situated on the northeast side
of what is now the new burying ground, on the brow ofthe hill, opposite to
Mr. Rowlandson's house, and about one-third of a mile a little to the west of
south of the present church. * * * * After preaching in town nearly four
years, he probably became discouraged as to the prospect of being invited to
settle, and gave out his intention of removing from town. Whether this was
done in sober earnest, or was merely to bring the town to terms, is only a
matter of conjecture at this late' day. The following extract from the re
cords, has some point, and perhaps will bear being quoted."
" Monday, 3, 3 mo. 1658. On the certain intelligence of Master Row
landson's removing from us, the selectmen treated with him to know what
his mind was, and his answer was, his apprehensions were clearer for his
going than for staying. They replied they feared his apprehensions were
not well grounded, but desired to know his resolution. He said his resolu
tions were according to his apprehensions, for ought he knew. Then the
selectmen, considering it was a case of necessity for the town to look out for
other supply, told Master Rowlandson, that now they did look upon them
selves as destitute of a minister, and should be forced to endeavor after some
other, — so discharging him.
" Friday 14, 3 mo. 1658. A messenger came from Billerica to fetch
Master Rowlandson away ;* upon which, the town having notice given them,
came together with intent to desire him to stay and settle amongst us ; and,
after some debate, it was voted as follows :
" 1. Whether it were the mind of the town to invite Master Rowlandson
to abide and settle amongst them in the work of the ministry. The vote
was affirmative by the hands of all held up.
" 2. Whether it was their mind to allow him for maintenance fifty pounds
a year, one-half in wheat, sixpence in the bushel under the current prices at
Boston and Charlestown, and the rest in other good current pay, in like pro
portions ; or, otherwise, fifty-five pounds a year, taking his pay at such rates
as the prices of corn are set every year by the Court. The vote was affirm
ative by the hands of all held up.
" 3. Whether they were willing that Master Rowlandson should have the
dwelling house which he lived in as his own proper right according to the
deed made by the town and confirmed by the committee ; with the point of
* The meaning is, that he was invited to preach in Billerica.

43
land westward, and some land west, and some north, of his house, for an
orchard, garden, yards, pasture and the like.
" This was put to the vote and granted by the major part, (and opposed
by none but old Goodman Kerley,* only there was a neuter or two,) with this
pioviso, that it hindered not the burying place, the highway, convenient
space to pass to the river, and the land intended to be for the next minister,
&c. " And upon this, Master Rowlandson accepted of the town's invitation,
and gave them thanks for their grant, and agreed to the motion, concerning
his maintenance, and promised to abide with us in the best manner the Lord
should enable him to improve his gifts in the work of the ministry."
" Mr. Rowlandson preached for some time as a candidate in Weathersfield,
where he died November 24, 1678, and before Lancaster was resettled.
He was probably born in England. His father, Thomas, took the freeman's
oath May 2, 1638, and died in Lancaster, November 17, 1657."
After the town was resettled, and for seven years, the pulpit was sup
plied by Mr. Carter, (probably Samuel Carter, Harvard University, 1660,)
William Woodrop, and Mr. Oakes, (perhaps Edwa-rd Oakes, H. U., 1679.)
Mr. Woodrop was one of the two thousand ministers turned out of their
benefices under the act of conformity, on St. Bartholemew's day, 1662.
In February, 1688, Mr. John Whiting, of Billerica, a graduate of Har
vard University, 1685, was invited to preach on probation ; and continued
preaching until November, 1690, when he was invited to settle in the work,
of the ministry, and was probably soon after ordained. f
On the accession of William of Orange to the throne, England was involved
in a war with France, and New England in a war with the Canadians,
French and Indians. " In the calamities of which," to go on with Mr. Har
rington's account, " this town had a large share."
" For on the 18th of July, 1692, the Indians assaulted the house of Mr.
Peter Joslin, who was at his labor in the field, and knew nothing of it, till,
entering the house, he found his wife and three children, and a woman that
lived in his family, barbarously butchered by their hatchets, and weltering in
their gore.
* Goodman Kerley, (William Kerley, senior,) seems to have continned in a wrath
ful state of mind for some time ; for though one of the number appointed to manage the
municipal concerns of the town, he did not attend the meetings of his brethren ; it
beino' a usual entry in the records that the Selectmen met at such a time and place, all
excepting Goodman Kerley.
t It was not usual during the first age of the New England Church, or indeed
through the seventeenth century, to have a discourse preached at ordination. And
when the practice was introduced, the minister elect preached it himself.

44
" His wife's sister, with another of his children were carried into captivity.
She returned, but that child was murdered in the wilderness. Thus was he
stript naked, and called to bitter weeping and lamentation.
" In 1695, on a Lord's Day Morning, Mr. Abraham Wheeler, going from
Garrison to his own house, on some occasion, was there shot by an enemy,
that had lain in ambufeh for him ; but although mortally wounded, he wrested
the gun from him, and brought it towards the Garrison, until met by his
friends. " In 1697, a considerable body of the enemy, under five commanders, but
one in chief, came and lurked in the woods for some time, sending in their
scouts by night to observe the posture of the town. — And having done this,
they determined to begin the attack on Mr. Thomas Sawyer's Garrison ; and
the firing at that was to be a signal to all the rest, to fall on in their respec
tive stations.
" And accordingly on the 11th of September, when the inhabitants, sus
picious of uo enemy, were gone out to their labor ; they came in several
companies into the town, and were very near surprising said Sawyer's Gar
rison, both the gates being left open ; but that Mr. Jabez Fairbank, who was
at his own house half a mile's distance, and designing to bring his little son
from said Garrison, mounted his horse which came running to him in a
fright ; and rode full speed into the gate, but yet nothing suspicious of an
enemy. — However, this was a means of saving the Garrison ; for the enemy
who were just ready to rush into it, supposing they were discovered, gave
over that design ; and fired at such as were out in the fields.
" At that time, the Rev. Mr. John Whiting being on some occasion at a
distance from his Garrison, they surprised and killed him. — They indeed
offered hira quarter ; but he chose rather to fight to the last, than resign
himself to those whose tender mercies are cruelty. —
" At the same time they killed twenty others, wounded two, but not mor
tally ; and captivated six, five of whom returned,
" On this sorrowful occasion, the town set a-part a day for Prayer and
Fasting." From 1697, the year of Mr. Whiting's death, to 1700, the pulpit was
supplied by Rev. John Robinson, (afterwards settled at Duxbury, in Novem
ber, 1702, where he died, 1731.) Mr. Jones, (perhaps John, Harvard
University, 1690?) and Mr. Samuel Whitman, Harvard University, 1696.
In May, 1701, Mr. Andrew Gardner, Harvard University, 1696, (but not
in italics in the catalogue, because never ordained,) was invited to preach, and
in the following September received an invitation to be the minister of the
town. In July, 1702, the war between England and France was renewed,
and the Colonies were once more involved in trouble. In July, 1704, seven
hundred French and Indians proceeded against Northampton, but finding the

46
inhabitants prepared against an attack, they turned their course towards
Lancaster, excepting two hundred, who returned home in consequence of a
quarrel about the division of spoil. Early in the morning of the 31st, they
commenced a sudden and violent attack on the town. During the day four
persons were killed, and the church, which escaped desttuction in Philip's
war and was the first hou^e of public worship in town, was burnt. Six other
buildings and much ofthe live stock ofthe town were also destroyed.
" On the 26th of October following," continues Mr. Harrington, " there
having been a party ofthe enemy discovered at Still River, (Harvard,) the
soldiers and inhabitants belonging to the Rev. Mr. Gardner's Garrison, with
divers others, went in quest of them ; who returning in the evening, fatigued
with the service of the day — Mr. Gardner, in compassion took the watch that
night upon himself; and coming out of the Box late at night, on some
occasion, was heard by one between sleeping and waking in the house, who
supposing him an enemy, seized the first gun which came lo hand, and shot
him through the body in the Parade.
" But the fatal mistake immediately appeared ; and he being carried into the
house, forgave the person that shot him ; and in an hour or two expired, to
the great grief not only of his consort, but of his people, who had an exceed
ing value for him."
In May, 1706, a new meeting-house, situated on what is now called the
Old Common and opposite to the second burying ground, was probably
completed. The Records in Mr. Rowlandson's time, were, without doubt, consumed
in his garrison, and as those in Mr. Whiting's day are not to be found, we
have no account of the number of Communicants, or of Baptisms, from the
founding of the Church to the ordination of Mr. Prentice, in 1708.
In May, 1705, Mr. John Prentice, a native of Newton, and a graduate of
Harvard University, 1700, commenced the supply ofthe pulpit and continued
to preach until February, 1707, when he was invited to settle. He accepted
the invitation and was ordained March 29th, 1708.
On the same day, previous to his ordination, the members of the church
subscribed their names to the covenant, which was the same probably as that
in Mr. Whiting's and even in Mr. Rowlandson's time.*
From the 15th of October, 1705, to the 5th of August, 1710, four persons
were killed, two wounded, and three taken captive by the Indians ; and the
inhabitants were doubtless kept in a continual state of anxiety and alarm un
til peace was concluded in 1713.
*It was retained until November, 1793. Our limits will not admit its insertion
It was, however, general in its nature, and did not contain the injunction of particular
doctrines as necessary to enable one to participate in the ordinances. The second

46
In 1733, from members of this church was formed a considerable part of
the church in Harvard — in 1741, the church in Bolton — in 1743, in part, the
church in Leominster — (all these towns originally included in Lancaster,
having been, from time to time, previously set off upon petition of their
inhabitants) — and in 1744 the church in what had then been separated into a
second precinct and is now the town of Sterling, «
A new church building was completed in 1743. It contained thirty-three
pews on the lower floor with many ofthe long seats common at that day.
Mr. Prentice died January 6th, 1746, aged 66. During his ministry of
forty years 1593 were baptized and 331 admitted to the church.
His successor, Timothy Hairington, born in Waltham, February 10th,
1716, was a graduate of Harvard College, 1737, and preached at Swansey,
New Hampshire, until the destruction of that town, and the dispersion ofthe
inhabitants in April, 1747. He was installed at Lancaster, November 16th,
1748. The sermon was preached by Rev. John Hancock of Lexington,
(father of Rev. John Hancock of Braintree, and grandfather of Governor
Hancock.) Mr. Harrington died Dec. 18th, 1795, in' the 80th year of his age. In his
ministry of this church, 1531 were baptized and 478 admitted to the
communion.*
article reads thus : " We also bind ourselves to bring up our children and servants [in
the] knowledge and fear of God, by holy instructions according to our abilities, and in
special by the use of Orthodox catechism, [that] true religion may be maintained in
our families while we [live,] yea, and among such as shall live when we are dead and
gone." What the standard of " Orthodox catechism,'3 was, may perhaps be inferred from
the fact that March, 1731, the town voted to buy Rev. Pres. Samuel Willard's " Body
of Divinity, to be kept in the meeting-house for the town's use, so that any .person
may come there and read therein as often as they shall see cause, and said book is not
to be carried out of the meeting-house, at any time, except by order of the Selectmen,
or the town.
November, 1734. The church voted " that any desirous of admission to full com
munion, scrupling his or her obligation to make a relation of his or her experience
shall be informed by the pastor that the brethren do not insist upon that as a term of
communion, but will take np and be satisfied with a written confession of their faith."
* Mr. Willard, (to whose hisLory, by his kind permission, we stand indebted for
more in this Appendix than we can easily indicate by the usual signs,) speaking of the
great changes which took place in the state of society in New England, during Mr.
Harrington's ministry, "when ancient simplicity was yielding to the alterations, if not
the refinements, in manners, induced by a widening intercourse with the world, the
increase of general intelligence, and the number of well educated men," remarks more
particularly ofthe changes which took place in the Psalmody used in Lancaster.
" I do not find that the introduction of instrumental music as a part of public wor
ship, or the change in the mode of singing, gave rise to any uneasiness in the parish.

47
On account of infirmity he had preached but little during the last five years
of his life. From March, 1791, till the following spring, the pulpit was in
part supplied, among others, by Messrs. Alden Bradford and Thaddeus M.
Harris. June 3d,'l792, the town voted unanimously to concur with the
church, in giving Mr. Nathaniel Thayer an invitation to be their minister, with
a settlement of £200, and a salary of £90 during Mr. Harrington's life-time,
and £120 ($400) after his decease. (Afterwards increased.) Having
accepted this invitation he was ordained as colleague pastor, October 9th,
1793. The following was the order of services. Prayer, by Rev. Dr-. Belk
nap, of Boston. Sermon, by Rev. Dr. Osgood, of Medford, from Acts, xx.,
27. Ordaining Prayer, by Rev. Mr. Whitney, of Shiiley. Charge, by
Rev. Mr. Jackson, of Brookline. Right Hand of Fellowship, by Rev. Mr.
Emerson, of Harvard. Concluding Prayer, by Rev. Dr. Claike, of Boston.
The building that had been used as a house for public worship from 1743,
being old and inconvenient, the town voted, December 4, 1815, to erect a
new one, — and the corner stone of the present edifice was laid July 9, 1816.
The pastor first made an address on the occasion, — and after the 87th Psalm,
(Except Mr. Wheelock used to shake his head, when the pitch pipe was sounded, and
Thomas Holt would leave the house at the sound of the pitch pipe, or when ' Funeral
Thought' was sung.) Not so, however, with the introduction of the ' New Version.'
Many were grieved because of the change, and two individuals proceeded further.
The version of Sternhold and Hopkins, the first metrical version of the Psalms, in
English, was never used in this town. This was not in high repute. Eliot, Welde,
and Richard Mather, in 1639, attempted a translation, but their labors were not val
ued ; and President Dunster, the following year, was called upon to revise'the collec
tion. His improved version was the one in use in most of the New England churches
for many years — and in Lancaster, till the time of Mr. Harrington. Probably about
the year 1763, the collection by Tate and Brady was introduced. Early in 1665, a
complaint was made that one of the members of the church, Moses Osgood, with his
wife, Martha, had been absent from the communion service more than a year. On
being inquired of by the church, why they absented themselves from the Supper, they
sent a written reply, in which they say that the reason is, 'the bringing in of the New
Version, as we think, not in a prudent and regular way. Also we find, in said Ver
sion, such words and expressions as are unknown by us, so that we cannot sing with
the understanding also. The composers of the said Version, we find, have taken too
great a liberty to themselves, as we think, to depart from the scriptures. And as for
the hymns taken from the other parts of the Bible, we know of no warrant in the Bible
for them, and shall humbly wait on such as are the maintainers of them to produce and
demonstrate the warrantableness for them from the Word of God. We are therefore
waiting the removing or in some way or other the satisfying the above said doubts ; for
they are a matter of grievance to us, and we think we are wronged in our highest
interest, &c.' "
Belknap superseded Tate & Brady in this church. Greenwood's Collection was
introduced January 5, 1834, and is still in use.

48
Belknap's Collection, had been sung, in the tune of Old Hundred, prayed
for the divine blessing on their work. The corner stone was then laid, a
silver plate with this inscription being placed beneath ; " Fourth house built
in Lancaster for the worship of God. Corner stone laid July A. D. 1816.
May God make our way prosperous and give us good success. Rev. Nath'l
Thayer, pastor of our church."
January 1st, 1817. Agreeably to a vote of the town the new meeting
house was dedicated. Introductory Prayer, by Rev. Mr. Capen of Sterling,
" who also read the prayer of Solomon at the dedication of the temple."
Dedicatory Piayer, by Rev. Dr. Bancroft of Worcester. Sermon, by the
pastor, from Ephesians ii., 19, 20, 21, 22. Concluding Prayer, by Rev.
Mr. Allen of Bolton.-'
Dr. Thayer was born in Hampton, N. H., July 11th, 1769, graduated at
Harvard College, 1789, and died June 23d, 1840, in the 71st year of his age,
and the 47th of his ministry.*
In the course of his ministry, he baptized 1017, received into the church
388, married 1038, and buried 1130.
Dr. Thayer's successor was the Rev. Edmund H. Sears, a native of
Sandisfield, and a graduate of Union College, who, after pursuing his
theological studies at Cambridge, settled in Wayland. Having accepted
an invitation from this parish, he was installed December 23, 1840. The
Order of Exercises was as follows : Introductory Prayer and Reading the
Scriptures, by Rev. Mr. Hill, of Worcester. Hymn 222, (Greenwood's
Coll.) Sermon, by Rev. Dr. Henry Ware, Jr. Hymn 534, Greenwood.
Prayer of Installation, by Rev. Isaac Allen, of Bolton. Charge, by Rev.
Mr. Lincoln, of Fitchbutg. Fellowship of the Chuiches, by Rev. R. P.
Stebbins. Address to the Society, by Rev. Chandler Robbins, of Boston.
Concluding Prayer, by Rev. C. T. Thayer, of Beverly. In April, 1847,
Mr. Sears resigned on account of ill health. During his ministry, 80 were
baptized, 56 became communicants and 151 were buried.
Mr. George M. Bartol, who was graduated at Brown University in 1842,
and received his theological education at Cambridge, having been invited to
the care of the church as his successor, was ordained August 4th, 1847.
* It will be seen by referring to the dates, that the united ministries of Mr. Prentice
and Mr. Harrington extended through nearly ninety years, that Dr. Thayer's settle
ment exceeded forty-six, and that making allowance for the time the latter was col
league with Mr. Harrington, there was a period of 131 years, during which but ten
months elapsed in which the church was without a settled minister. For some account
of Dr. Thayer's life and character, see Rev. Mr. Hill's Discourse, and " Notices,"
by Dr. Parkman, in the Monthly Miscellany, August, 1840.

49
ORDER OF EXERCISES AT THE ORDINATION.
I. VOLUNTARY.
n. INTRODUCTORY PRAYER, BY REV. MR. WHITE, OF LITTLETON.
III. READING OF THE SCRIPTURES, BY REV. MR, HALE, OF WORCESTER.
rv. HYMN. REV. DR. FROTHINGHAM. (Greenwood's Coll., 534.)
" O God, whose presence glows in all," &c.
V. SERMON, BY REV. C. A. BARTOL, OF BOSTON.
VI. HYMN. REV. DR. FROTHINGHAM.
O Lord of life and truth and grace, The golden lamps are at his feet,
Ere nature was begun, And in his hand the stars.
Make welcome to our erring race
Thy Spirit and thy Son. O may he walk among us here,
With his rebuke and love, —
We hail the Church, built high o'er all A brightness o'er this lower sphere,
The heathen's rage and scoff, A ray from worlds above.
Thy Providence its fenced wall,
" The Lamb the light thereof." Teach Thou thy youthful servant, Lord,
The mysteries he reveals,
Thy Christ hath reached his heavenly seat That reverence may receive the word,
Through sorrows and through scars, And meekness loose the seals.
VH. PRAYER OF ORDINATION, BY REV. JOSEPH ALLEN, OF NORTI-IBORO' .
VIII. RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP, BY REV. MR. THAYER, OF BEVERLY.
IX. CHARGE, BY REV. MR. HILL, OF WORCESTER.
X. HYMN. REV. DR. FROTHINGHAM.
The patriarch's dove, on weary wing, The dove of God, in happier hour,
One leaf of olive found, O'er Jordan's sweeter wave,
Within the narrow ark to bring, In symbol showed the spirit's power,
When all the world was drowned. That all die earth would save.
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O Lord ! to this our sacred rite And still on life's baptizing tide,
Such gracious tokens grant, Or sorrow's bitter sea,
As make thy temples, where they light, Descending peace be multiplied,
Thine arks of covenant. And hallow hearts to Thee !
XI. CONCLUDING PRAYER, BY REV. MR. FROTHINGHAM, OF SALEM.
XII. ANTHEM.
" O be joyful in the Lord, all ye lands," &c.
XIII. BENEDICTION.

Cctus JDco.

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